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changbin was a member of the up-and-coming rap group, 3racha. he had his entire life planned out, him and his boys would become succesful rappers, they'd win awards and perform on big stages. they would eventually find partners, get married, have kids, and continue to rap, until the day they died.
so here he was, it was him, chan, and jisung, sitting in chan's musty studio with random plates of food and cups of god knows what strewn about, a couch in the corner with a pull out bed and an air mattress on the floor.
he was laying on the air mattress, glasses perched across his nose, notebook and pen in hand. jisung and chan were recording, and he was writing. he wasn't the strongest writer, but with a few tweaks of words and rythym, he's message came across loud and clear.
he listened to the beat of the song as chan and jisung went over the part a few times, and let his mind drift. who was he? what did he want people to think when they look at him? what did he feel when he looked at himself?
the last question is what he went with as he started scribling down his thoughts, for jisung and chan to tweak and rhyme later. he thought back to earlier that morning, he was awoken to their shitty old microwave going off, and chan cursing jisung for such noise.
he groaned and had awoken, walking to their small bathroom to get ready, he looked in the mirrior, just as he always did. he studied his sharp jawline and the way it came to a softened point at his chin. he watched how his adam's apple bobbed when he drank his water, how his muscular arms looked as he took his shirt off to shower.
and to be honest, changbin wasn't sure he liked it anymore. he wasn't sure if he liked looking at himself anymore, he knew he was handsome, he got complimented on all of those aspects he had studied constantly, the way his voice was low and raspy, such a manly voice.
changbin wasn't sure he wanted to be handsome.
sometimes, when felix would visit he would be wearing makeup. changbin liked the way the younger looked, so feminine. felix identified as a male, and nothing would ever change that felix was felix, so he could wear the sparkly eyeshadow and the pink lip gloss. nothing would change if felix wasn't a male, and nothing has changed because he's a feminine boy.
sometimes, changbin wonders if it would be the same with him, that nothing would change if he wore makeup, dressed more femininely, realized he wasn't male. most of the time, changbin doesn't think it would be the same as when felix started dressing more feminine.
because felix was felix, and changbin was changbin.
he felt empty a lot, alone. it had gotten better with chan and jisung by his side, but still. he felt empty a lot. he felt like he wasn't there, that this body wasn't his. that maybe, if he put on some of that lip gloss and eyeshadow felix kept in their medicine cabniet for "emergency purposes" that he would feel different. like he was here, like he was him.
or her. or them.
it was hard, to be unsure, because how can something that feels so right, feel so wrong at the same time? some days he stared at himself in the gym mirror, admiring his muscled, the way his adam's apple bobbed as he drank his gatorade. others, he stared longingly at that eyeshadow palate laying next to his antidepressants, wanting nothing more to put it on, to be pretty. it was hard, to feel so wrong.
he hadn't noticed that chan and jisung were calling his name as he wrote every single thought that popped in his head, about how he felt when he looked at himself, because he didn't know. it scared him, to not know, when everything else was so sure.
suddenly the notebook was out of his hands and thrown onto the desk, he noticed it was jisung who grabbed it, jisung hands were long and gentle, adorned with black nail polish. he wished he had hands like jisungs.
then, there were chan's hands, waving in front of his face to snap him out of it. chan's hands were strong and veiny, they were gentle yet rough, and although they too were adorned with black nail polish. it wasn't the same as jisung's hands. changbin wished he had hands like chan's.
"bin. bin, look at me, are you with us?" chan called softly, as he leaned on the floor to be height level with the younger.
"yeah." changbin mumbled, snapping out of his trance and looking up at the concerned faces of his hyung and dongsaeng.
"what happened, bin-hyung?" jisung asked, sitting next to changbin on the deflating air mattress.
" 'was writing. thinking." he explained, smiling at the younger, he didn't like it when jisung was scared or worried.
"can we read it?" chan asked, reaching up for changbin's red journal.
"promise me something first." changbin said, looking down at his hands. they were skinny and short, not as short as felix's, but they were small.
"of course, hyung, what is it?" jisung asked, he was getting scared, what was in that notebook?
"what's in that notebook, stays in that notebook. it doesn't change anything, we don't talk about it, you don't bring it up again." changbin explained, looking up at his best friends. he was dead serious.
"we promise." chan said, grabbing the journal and opening it to the page it was at.
changbin watched the two's expression as they read the paragraph's he had written, he watched as jisung's go from burrowed in confusion to relaxed in what looked like relief. meanwhile chan's face stayed the same, eyes dashing down the rows of blabber and thoughts in changbin's messy handwriting.
and then, they closed the notebook. it hit changbin there, they were going to break the promise, they were going to ask him questions. they were going to tell him he was disgusting, they were going to send him to a mental hospital.
they were going to break their promise.
he was anticipating it, waiting for the questions, the yells, the 'why' with his eyes tightly scrunched closed. but it never came, he felt the bed dip from both sides, and heard a silent complaint form jisung about how his ass was touching the floor.
then he felt two pairs of arms wrap around him as they laid down, the three of them squished together, the lights turned off and chan's computer illuminating the room. "we love you, bin. nothing will ever change that." chan whispered, han mumbling a 'what he said' as he burrowed into changbin's chest.
"i love you, too, channie-hyung and jisungie." changbin whispered back, tears pooling at his eyes.
"i know we promised not to talk about it, and we won't tonight, but is it okay if tomorrow hannie asks you some things? he's a little confused." chan smiled, kissing changbin's cheek.
"yeah. yeah i think that will be okay..." changbin said, closing his eyes and resting his head on chan's chest and running a hand through jisung's hair lovingly.