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Seungmin was bored.
Lying on his side in bed stuck in scrolling paralysis for the last two hours was starting to give him a migraine. If it were up to him, he would be doing something he actually enjoyed instead of wasting his day away, mindlessly flicking past visual garbage. His brain refused to let him; the overwhelm he felt from having to choose which of his hobbies to allocate his newfound free time to left him unable to start any task properly. It was easier to do nothing than to decide which pastime was worthy of his break.
When his head began to pound, he sat up, sliding his phone away. Too much of the day had passed for him to will himself to write, journal, or attempt any form of art, so he reached for his laptop - an easy transition from the mini, pocket-sized internet to the bigger, less portable internet. Maybe the same apps would be more interesting on a different device than they had been two seconds ago. (Even to his stubborn brain that sounded like a load of bull.)
At least the bigger screen would put less pressure on his eyes.
He twirled his hoodie string around his fingers, rubbing the material between them as he glanced at the recommended videos that the algorithm determined he was likely interested in. Except, they all pertained to Felix's interests. Tech, cooking, ASMR, Tiktok compilations…his friend borrowed his laptop too often.
He sighed, clicking on what looked like a decent animatic. It was infinitely better than the short-form content his phone had been shoving down his throat minutes earlier. His gaze wandered in search of something new to watch shortly after it ended.
Something caught his eye in the sidebar recommendations. An inconspicuous suggestion, really, one of many gaming videos that were no doubt a result of Felix’s obsession with finding indie game trailers and stumbling down a rabbit hole of related content.
Or it would have been, if not for the familiar animals in the thumbnail.
He recognized those characters. That art style. The blurred background.
He was nine years old again, staring at the colours and the animals and the green login button. He loved it. He hated it. He was delighted. He was terrified.
He wanted to watch the video.
The title read: It's finally back!
He hesitated, leaving the cursor to hover over the title as his mind raced a mile a minute. Could it be?
If so, was he prepared to face the past?
He dared to click.
The universe had it against him, it seemed, as the video buffered before it could even begin. He was doomed to suffer despite his usually stable internet connection. The suspense was killing him, if the tightness in his chest was anything to go by.
He absent-mindedly flapped his sleeves in his lap while making soft popping sounds with his mouth to pass the time. It reminded him of bubbles.
The slight burn of tears he refused to acknowledge dissipated as the thought of going out to the balcony and blowing bubbles distracted him. That always cleared his head. Maybe a bubble bath would help him feel more relaxed and fulfilled on his day off. He wondered if he should ask Felix if they had more of his beloved scented solution - he could rope Lix into giving him a bath if he used his best puppy eyes, his presence was as warm and soothing as the act itself - but more importantly, did they need to go to the store? He had been wanting to get more snacks anyways. What did they have to eat at home? Although he wasn’t craving anything in particular, he didn’t want to go hungry until he made up his mind. He could ask the others for suggestions, unless they had already ordered food for themselves. What were they doing? Did they ever wonder what he was doing?
He blinked back to reality when some noise grabbed his attention and oh, his video was already a minute in. He rewinded it and rubbed his face.
“Finally,” he muttered, pressing play.
A wave of nostalgia crashed into him the second the familiar background came into view. For the most part, the gameplay was the same as it had been years ago. Some elements and map locations were missing, Seungmin noticed. He was intrigued. How much had changed and how much had remained the same?
The player navigated their animal avatar around the screen and Seungmin’s misty eyes followed, having completely tuned out the voiceover of the video in favour of simply staring at his past - or rather, it staring him in the face.
Felix meandered in at some point, unbeknownst to Seungmin, until he spoke up with a soft “What’s up Minnie?”
Seungmin scrambled to untangle his hand from where it had been twisting his sleeve and hit the spacebar, suddenly feeling all too exposed in the comfort of his bedroom as he looked up at his freckled friend. Felix had seen him at some of his most vulnerable points, yet somehow the gross, churning seed in his stomach took root and began to grow, watered by unshed tears and fed by unspoken thoughts.
“Oh, uh, watching a gameplay. How long have you been standing there?”
Feeling a lot was no excuse to be impolite, Seungmin thought, patting the space beside him. Felix joined him on the bed, making a careful mental note of the way he started to rub his fingers together.
“Not long. Do you want a burger? I was about to order one for myself but I figured you might like one too.” Felix showed him the pending order on his phone.
Seungmin could have cried (well, his stomach definitely was, letting out a tiny growl at that very moment) because of how thoughtful he was. He nodded. “Get me one too.”
“Done!”
“Thanks.”
He continued to feel around his fingers as Felix leaned on his shoulder, peering at his laptop.
“A gameplay you said? This looks familiar.”
Seungmin sighed. “Yeah, I used to play it. I think I told you to make an account so we could both play.”
“Ah!” Felix exclaimed with such enthusiasm at the recollection that Seungmin couldn’t help but laugh. “You did! I did! I tried getting into it but you always found it more interesting than me. Half the time my character kept glitching and freezing too.”
Seungmin hummed. “I could never find your username when I searched for it.”
“Maybe the game knew I wasn’t meant for it.” Felix chuckled. “I miss playing internet games. Ever since flash died my entire childhood basically went up in flames. There just aren’t any free, safe, online spaces for kids anymore that aren’t riddled with a million ads that give you a headache.”
Seungmin agreed. He was nowhere near the avid gamer that Felix had been, but he had spent much of his youth on games now rendered unplayable, websites that were no longer available.
“I remember you were so invested in this one,” Felix continued, smiling fondly. “You used to tell me about all the features and minigames every time we called. Didn’t you have a bunny character?”
Seungmin swept his thumb along his fingernails as his shoulder was squeezed gently.
“I did.”
“You loved it.”
“I did.”
There was a shift in the air, an inexplicable unease that settled into Seungmin’s bones. He gripped a finger hard. Twisted it. Dropped his hands and his gaze into his lap as Felix’s smile faltered.
“Why did you stop?”
Felix knew how much he loved it. Felix knew the extent of his passion, his obsession. Felix knew he wouldn’t have given it up on his own.
“Was it because it’s a flash game?” He asked, his tone so soft that Seungmin couldn’t bear to restrain his tears. His vision blurred as he took a shaky breath.
They both knew he had stopped playing it long before the widespread demise of their corner of the internet.
He shook his head, biting his lip as Felix took a hand in his and intertwined their fingers. He cared so much. He didn’t know why Seungmin had deserted his favourite game but he still cared so much.
“Did it fade out of your life?”
Fading away, drifting apart. Like old friends. Like falling out of love. Naturally, normally, on good terms. The concept was so foreign to him, so absurd. If only it had happened that way. With the way he had hyperfixated on the silly little animal game, finding joy and solace in it, letting it fade out at the peak of his enjoyment was impossible.
Seungmin had been too ashamed to tell him back then, in seventh grade. He still was. A squeeze of his fingers, a hand on his knee, the warmth of adjusting their position so that Seungmin was leaning on him instead, it all compelled him to provide the closure he had withheld for so long.
Felix was being so kind. Seungmin wanted to take advantage of that. The thought left him suffocating on the guilt sprouting from the pit in his stomach, blooming through his body and branching throughout his veins. How horrible he was, for wanting comfort over a stupid game. Stupid game. Stupid grades. Stupid-
That voice. The dining table. His report card. Test papers graded in bold red ink. Tears.
He mustered all his strength to delay their, and his, inevitable downfall as he met Felix’s eyes.
“Dad made me stop.”
Seventh grade.
Seungmin had barely become a preteen, thrown into the awkward limbo of adolescence. Thrown into slightly more advanced classes with harder concepts to grasp, more intricate details to study. He found it difficult to remember it all, often having to negotiate with his brain to conjure up some semblance of focus.
The results for the second batch of quizzes had been released. Seungmin wasn’t sure how to break the news to his parents. What he was sure of was the disappointment that would follow. He went home that day with bated breath and an interim report card of B minuses and Cs.
His father couldn’t comprehend that his son was struggling in school.
It couldn’t possibly be Seungmin’s brain, no, he had gotten straight As his entire life. Clearly, his friends were distracting him from his studies. It had to have been that game he wasted his free time on instead of trying harder.
Seungmin himself could not be having a hard time.
He wasn’t allowed to struggle.
He wished his father had blamed him and faulted him for his own lackings instead of narrowing down his entire life to revolve around a letter on a piece of paper.
“He was so mad that day,” Seungmin whispered in Felix’s embrace. “I had to apologize to him for doing so badly and promise to never touch the game again. I had connected it to my email so he couldn’t close my account, but it didn’t matter. Every time I snuck online behind his back to play it, he’d find out. Somehow, he intuitively knew to bust into my room unannounced right when the page finally loaded.”
He huffed out a sardonic breath in lieu of a sniffle, attempting to laugh. “I got sick of getting yelled at, so I stopped lurking. I just…stopped.”
“I tried to pick it back up, years later. By then I had completely lost interest in the game. I felt so guilty and scared whenever I looked at the homepage, y’know?” His curled fingers took turns sliding against each other, back and forth, as if a mini piano was positioned under them. “I couldn’t play it in peace anymore, so I deleted my account. What else was I supposed to do?”
Felix petted his hair, silent apart from the periodic hum that let Seungmin know he was being listened to.
“I really wish I still had my account, Lix. I wish I had never deleted it. I want to play it again, I wanna be ten years old staying up ‘till one in the morning collecting minigame prizes and learning fun facts about animals.”
His lip quivered as he finally let the tears welling up in his eyes flow. His cheeks were streaked with wetness within seconds. “I wish I’d been a better student. I’m so stupid.”
“Minnie, no ,” Felix protested, hugging him tight. “You aren’t stupid at all. You did well in that term overall, I remember because I bought you ice cream to celebrate.”
“No, no-no, I did bad.” Seungmin hiccuped into his chest, his speech almost childish.
“You did so well, even better than me! You’re so smart.” Felix could only hold him through it and hope his words provided some comfort.
They seemed to have the opposite effect, however, causing Seungmin to stiffen and look up with wide eyes.
“I-I’m sorry, ‘m sorry. Did bad for me, not you. I didn’t mean-” he took a shuddery breath, “Don’t mean to hurt your feelings. I did okay, yeah. Did okay but wasn’t good enough, okay.”
He hurriedly tried to dry his eyes of the endless tears cascading from them, a futile attempt that broke Felix’s heart.
Seungmin had so much pain from his childhood, small papercuts with everlasting impressions on his life. One such raw wound that Felix had accidentally grazed upon was something he hadn’t been around for.
“The kids didn’t like it when I got happy for doing well in elementary school. They said I made them feel bad for scoring less. Celebrating is bragging.”
That was what Seungmin had told him in junior high, when asked why he had scowled at Felix for cheering loud enough for the next room over to hear after seeing Seungmin get the highest exam grade. When asked why he had meekly taken his papers without so much as a smile, his response had been:
“I don’t feel a rush of joy or relief anymore, just acceptance. This is what’s expected of me anyways.”
Felix knew he was privileged, in a way, to not have faced those things, to not understand how people could be so cruel. Careless. Blissfully unaware of the impact their words and actions could have on a person. Such formative experiences had the potential to shape Seungmin into a bitter, angry person. Instead, he chose to be the kind, caring puppy they knew and loved.
Seungmin whimpered, bringing Felix back to the present day. He was at a loss. What could he even say or do to make things better?
“You did do okay, but don’t just say it because you want me to feel better. Your brain was having a bit of trouble at that time. That doesn’t mean you did badly, you did the best you could have. Your best wasn’t as good as the high expectations placed on you because your brain wasn’t getting the help it needed back then.”
More sobs boiled over, bubbling out from Seungmin and shaking his fragile frame.
“I know you didn’t mean to imply that I was a bad student because you did better than me. That thought never crossed my mind. I’m sorry you had to worry about that.”
He held the back of Seungmin’s head, keeping him tucked close. After some time, Seungmin shifted to sit in his lap facing away from him. It made him worry that the week-younger felt awkward and embarrassed when all he wanted was to make him comfortable.
“Hey, look at me.”
One look at his red, glossy eyes had Felix wishing he could take all his pain away with a snap of his fingers.
“I was listening, I just didn’t know what to say back,” he managed to croak out, his cries calming down the longer Felix stayed pressed to his back. His firm presence soothed the buzzing edges of his brain.
“That’s okay.” Felix tapped his cheek.
The screen in front of them turned black, the sleeping laptop neglected as Seungmin reached for a handful of tissues to clean his face. He tossed them out and took a deep breath, fiddling with the hem of his shirt as he sat back down.
“Felix?”
“Hm?”
“Why does it hurt?”
He should have gotten over it all, and yet, the past continued to haunt him. He curled up small next to Felix.
“These small things, they’re so old. I can’t seem to let them go. Does it hurt because I let it all hurt me?”
Was it his fault for being affected?
“A broken bone doesn’t hurt because you let it hurt. A broken bone hurts because damage has been caused and needs time to heal. When it doesn’t heal properly, it causes pain in the long term.” Felix cupped Seungmin’s face with tenderness that he desperately craved.
“Similarly, you aren’t allowing these things to cause you pain. You’re hurting because you didn’t get the chance to heal from the damaging ideologies forced onto you. Feeling upset is a completely normal and valid reaction.” Felix’s sorrowful gaze made Seungmin squirm. “You were young and deserved better.”
Maybe that was why Seungmin was a middle regressor.
The pain he had carried with him for years, buried deep within until something triggered it to surface, had to be released in some form. Journalling and singing helped him to sort out his thoughts and manage the stress of his adult life, but he needed something more.
Regressing proved to be effective in healing his inner child. It enabled him to return to his youth and relive it differently, show his younger self the way things should have been. He could give himself the childhood he deserved without all the fear, shame, and guilt associated with everything that made him happy.
Those feelings did often manifest in his headspace, however. His regression episodes mostly consisted of big feelings. Breakdowns and tantrums were a common occurrence. Felix could never fault him for any of it. He wanted Seungmin to have a safe space to express his negative emotions.
“Lix?” Seungmin placed a hand over Felix’s, relishing in his touch. “Is anyone else home?”
His eyes flitted to the open door of his room, teeth hooking onto his lip.
“The others are out. It’s just us.” Felix smiled.
Seungmin visibly relaxed, closing his eyes and melting into Felix’s hold. The others didn’t know about his regression and he preferred to keep it that way. Not because he thought they would mock him, no, he trusted them with his life. He simply liked keeping that side of himself private, reserving such intimacy for Felix’s eyes alone.
They’ve done this enough times for Felix to interpret his unspoken desires. He knew what Seungmin was asking for, barely holding back the urge to coo and kiss his head. He never explicitly babied him unless he had expressed the want or need for it first, not wanting to patronize him when he was already distressed.
“I-I want…Could you…maybe? Please?”
Sometimes, Seungmin couldn’t verbalize the urge and needed a push.
“I can take care of you, puppy. You can let go now, I’ve got you.”
Seungmin slumped against him, glancing up and grinning at his upside-down face. He reached up to touch it while Felix simultaneously reached out to scritch his head. They both paused in midair, sharing a surprised giggle at how synchronized they were, and decided to meet in the middle, clasping their hands together.
“Lix-”
Said member’s phone rang before Seungmin could get another word out. He pouted as Felix let go of him to check the caller ID.
“Our food’s here. Sorry pup, I need to go get it.”
Seungmin huffed. “Gee, could the timing be any more perfect?”
He laid the sarcasm on thick, flopping on his back in dramatic fashion that had Felix stifling a laugh.
“I’ll be back soon. Don’t burn the dorm down while I’m gone,” he teased, chuckling as Seungmin stuck his tongue out at him. “Aish, you punk.”
“You gotta love me though!” Seungmin said brightly, squealing as Felix tackled him with wriggling fingers. The tickle attack lasted long enough for Seungmin to need a minute to recover. Felix took the opportunity to slip away. By the time Seungmin had caught his breath, he heard a jingle of keys, followed by the thud of the front door closing.
Everything went quiet as he was once again on his own.
He lay unmoving, taking slow, deep breaths as he contemplated, trailing back to what started this mess in the first place. He felt as if he were walking on eggshells, teetering off the edge of a fine tightrope thread. Like he had been, on the cusp of teenagehood, without ever having had the chance to be a child.
Sitting up, he shuffled closer to his laptop. His fingers gravitated to the keyboard before he could think twice about it. He opened a new tab.
He stole a glance at his surroundings, ensuring no one was there to witness his actions. In the back of his mind he knew it was a bad idea. The url engraved in his soul was typed out in the address bar, his fingers gliding over the keys with practiced ease. One hovered over the enter key, waiting.
He froze.
Felix could walk right in and see him.
…and?
He wouldn’t scold him, he wouldn’t give him a glare of disappointment, he wouldn’t take custody of his laptop for the rest of the night.
On his knees, he leaned forward, plucking his stuffed dog from its designated spot beside his pillow. He situated his tan plush buddy in his lap and patted its head.
“Daengmo, your services are required. For, um, moral support,” he said, wrapping a hand around one of its paws. “You can go back to your nap soon.”
When he next cast his eyes on the screen, the insertion point blinked at the end of the string of text. He squeezed the fur in his fist for reassurance.
Curiosity got the best of him, concluding his internal debate. He mustered up the courage to press the single button that would transport him to the website he had regularly visited until the age of thirteen. To his game.
It had been nearly a decade since he last played.
Unlike earlier, the page loaded immediately. He thought he would be greeted with the nostalgic sights he was used to.
Instead, the colours and animals had changed. There was no green login button, no username or password fields. A giant download now! at the bottom of the page stared back at him.
The tween in him wanted to scream. His twenty-something self blinked, conflicted.
His web-based virtual world had turned into an unrecognizable app, a redesigned shell of its former glory.
For a brief moment, he considered downloading it.
Was his previous username available?
Would he even find it fun anymore?
He didn’t want to go through with it. Couldn’t. The novelty would replace the history embedded in his mind, erase the sentiment he had left. He would rather keep the image he had of the game.
His fingers itched, rubbing along one another, burrowing in the plush softness of his stuffed dog. He pressed and pulled and kneaded, anything to stave off the burn in his throat and the searing pain in his chest.
“I have our burgers!”
His grip tightened, as did the knot he thickly swallowed around.
“Seungmin?”
Nothing ever remained the same. The passage of time was constant, unyielding, warping his every desire into a void. Yearning for his youth was a fruitless endeavour. He was seeking familiarity in the unfamiliar, stability in change.
It hurt to know that he could never regain that part of his childhood, no matter how hard he tried.
“It’s too different.” A solitary tear rolled off his eyelashes.
“What?” Felix turned to him.
Those days were gone.
“It’s too different!”
He shouted, gritting his teeth and slamming the laptop lid. He hurled Daengmo at the floor, clawing mercilessly at the neatly folded blanket at the foot of his bed.
“Hey.”
He managed to unfold it before Felix got to him, using it as a shield to block his caregiver's arms from restraining his frantic movements. Like a parachute, it billowed out above him as he plummeted to the sheets. His knuckles were white around the cloth corners as he collided with the mattress. He let it shroud his trembling figure from the world.
“Hey!”
Felix tugged at the fabric. It didn’t budge. He switched tactics, letting Seungmin stay hidden. He planted his hands on the middle’s back and rubbed slow circles to soothe him. “Minnie, please don’t shut me out.”
The weight of his palms was too much to bear.
“Don’t touch me!” Seungmin snapped, curling in on himself. "Leave me alone!”
Unwilling to do that, Felix shifted to sit on the floor so his presence was less suffocating.
“I'm sorry, I should have asked.”
A few inches away lay Seungmin's prized stuffie. He refrained from touching it, knowing how sensitive Seungmin was about his belongings while he was regressed. His pup, his journal, his blanket; although few in number, they consoled him immensely.
Seungmin clutched the blanket he was bundled in, tightening it around him to envelope himself in consistent pressure. He choked on broken sobs, whimpers escaping him in spite of the hand he clamped over his mouth.
Hearing him cry made Felix's heart ache. He was hurting so badly and all Felix could do was let him mourn, holding a funeral for his lost adolescence.
Eventually, he peeked out from under the covers to breathe, his cries slowing to small sniffles and hitched breaths. He caught a glimpse of Felix unpacking their food. He hoped it hadn’t gone cold. His gaze fell to his stuffed dog next, which he made grabby hands at. His outstretched arms lifted the forlorn toy and dusted it off, setting it on his stomach.
“I’m sorry Daengmo.” He scratched the fur behind its ears as if it were an actual pet. “It’s a good thing you’re stuffed or that would’ve hurt.”
The tracks on his cheeks were tacky. He rubbed at them harshly, causing them to become redder.
“Feeling better now?” Felix asked.
He shrugged. “M’ itchy.”
Felix gave him a sympathetic nod. “I can help wash your face.”
Seungmin let Felix lead him to the bathroom, and allowed himself the freedom to squirm and whine as Felix splashed water on his flushed face.
“Nearly done, pup.” Felix dried him off with a fluffy towel, not minding his resistance. He chuckled when Seungmin held Daengmo out to get towelled off too and gently patted the toy’s damp fur. “We don’t want him catching a cold now, do we?”
“Thank you. He doesn’t like getting wet either.” Seungmin hugged it to his chest. His smile quickly faded as his childish behaviour brought about a sudden wave of guilt. “I’m sorry I’m difficult.”
Felix frowned. “You aren’t difficult Minnie. I’m glad you’re fussy with me.”
“Glad?” Seungmin echoed.
“I like seeing you be yourself.” Felix plopped the towel on his head and ruffled it, eliciting a giggle out of the week-younger. “My little rascal.”
“You gotta love me.” Seungmin beamed, a hint of mischief in his eyes.
“I love you at your best and worst.” Felix ducked under the microfiber cloth so Seungmin could internalize his earnest words. “Nothing you do will make me love you any less.”
“Okay,” Seungmin said softly, knocking their foreheads together.
They stayed like that until Seungmin abruptly raised his stuffie to squeeze between them.
“Daengmo! Don’t interrupt us!” He scolded, making Felix burst into laughter.
“Come on you troublemakers, it’s time to eat.”
Felix guided him to the bedroom and distributed their burgers. He listened to Seungmin ramble about his beloved game throughout the meal, reminding him not to talk with food in his mouth, and fondly watched him draw pictures of his in-game avatar bunny afterwards.
They’d talk about the heavier stuff later, when he was big again. He’d hold him through more tearful recollections of memories that hit a sore spot.
Right now, watching him grab pink and purple coloured pencils, his feet kicking in the air as he scribbled, Felix vowed to protect him with all his might.