Chapter Text
Kun's usually small studio felt large. He sat in the corner of the room, his iPad in his lap, playing god knows what. His head was too filled with voices and thoughts to notice the characters or story filling the screen in front of him. His eyes were glazed over, hazy yet not a single tear fell down.
Because that's how Qian Kun was. That's how he had to be. For his bandmates. For his family. For his "kids". Most importantly for his members, his boyfriends. He was their leader, their strength, their voice of reason, their pillar.
Pillar, Kun thought slightly amused. Cracked, misplaced, stained, old pillar. Kun never understood how he could be their strength when he was broken himself. How he could be their voice of reason when his own mind betrayed him over and over again. How could he lead them when he was lost himself.
He never understood how the other six angels loved him. He didn't deserve even a bit of it.
He wasn't experienced on stage like beautiful, mesmerising Ten nor could he dance like him.
He couldn't be thoughtful or sweet or talented as the silent but strong when needed Sicheng.
He wasn't as tall or good looking with a powerful deep voice as their happy-go lucky and strangely philosophical Xuxi.
His vocals aren't melodious or smooth as the quirky Dejun.
He couldn't cheer people up with a simple smile or easy coming jokes like their prince Guangheng.
He couldn't raise spirits of his members and keep the morale positive like their baby, Yangyang.
He.....he was just Kun-ge. There wasn't anything special. Just fucking Qian Kun.
He glanced up at the poster of his family that he had in his studio, to remind him of his home away from home yet today it only reminded him of how out of place he looked. An extra. Always an extra.
Kun shut his eyes and tried taking deep breaths. But his lungs betrayed him just like his hands which trembled and itched to hold something. He wanted to curl up and rest his head on his knees but his choreographer's voice echoed through his mind. Don't move like that. You look fat. Yangyang take Kun's place. Kun, at the corner.
The ache from the practice hours still rested in his muscles and bones. And his chest and back hurt even more from the hits. His leg shook despite his attempt to ground himself. His phone lit up and he turned slowly hoping it was one of his angels. It wasn't. It was a summon to another meeting. Kun got up, supporting himself on the wall. He looked up at the white ceiling and sighed. He didn't have time or the energy to break down.
He walked to his desk and collected his belongings, shaking out his emotions and unnecessary thoughts and locked them away. He looked at his phone while he walked to the room, pretending to be texting someone when there wasn't the single text or call anyways. It's just twelve. Ten, Xuxi and even Dejun have returned way late past that.
Once seated in the cold meeting room with their managers and executives, Kun was bombarded with all sorts of questions. Whys, what's and how's. Many that Kun could not answer but he had learnt through the experience of last two years.
He had learnt to bargain rest time between schedules of two different bands for the always working, Ten, instead offering them his time which was usually "was not necessary." or "required only Ten."
He endured the hate, the taunts and the lashes to get Xuxi back.
He would spend hours arguing for the drama for his sweetheart Dejun.
He went back and forth with producers to allot more lines to darling Winwin.
He took brunt for fun-loving Hendery's and Yangyang's slip ups or misconduct.
And that's what he did today. Despite his mind being painfully numb, despite the reduction of lines, despite the rejection of his self produced works. He did what he did the best, protecting his didis.
Three hours passed and Kun walked out of the company, looking at the text Yangyang had sent alerting him that all members had reached home. He put it on silent but keeping the vibrate on, too scared to miss out anything which his boyfriends need or want. He trudged through the snow, his cold hands buried in his pockets and still freezing.
The city was surprisingly quiet, maybe due to the snow blessing the city with its presence since last three days or maybe due to the ungodly hour, Kun couldn't be sure. After all city was still strange to him, way different from his small hometown. Seoul was large, populated with strangers. Kun was one of them too, strange to the city and his own body.
Kun's head ached along with his screaming muscles. His ears felt like they would bleed anytime along with a few cuts he already sported, due to the constant music flowing through his EarPods but he refused to lower the volume. Perhaps if he had he would notice the footsteps behind him. But Kun didn't know he was being followed until he was a block away from the dorm and he was pulled into an alley by a tight grip on his hair.
His voice, still hoarse from the recording let out a surprised noised and his eyes met familiar amber eyes. Eyes that smiled at his boyfriends every morning and night but glared at him across the table merely an hour ago. He felt himself being pushed deeper into the alley and his cheek stinging the moment his back hit the wall. He cupped his cheek, still in shock and looked up in disbelief but his dulled senses only registered a sharp pain in the back of his head, a cracking sound and eyes. Familiar, dark amber eyes.