Chapter Text
The dim light buzzed in the gym storage room, casting a pale glow over scattered cones, volleyballs, and stacks of dusty mats. Skylar pushed back his wavy, dark hair, its slightly sweat-dampened strands clinging to his forehead. He wiped his glasses on the corner of his uniform, leaving a faint smudge he didn’t care enough to fix.
“Cirrus, help me stack the cones, would you? Please? All this stupid dust from these deflated dodgeballs — my glasses are a mess.” His tone was weary, but a faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Let’s get out of here already.”
The gym’s storage room hummed a rhythmic sound of the air conditioner, but an unspecified humid scent still wavered in the air. Not only that, but the school stayed eerily quiet, as Mr. Lee had requested Cirrus and Skylar to stay after the last period to sort the equipment.
Cirrus, pin straight mocha hair, emerged from behind a tall stack of volleyballs, his eyes absorbing the light in a way that made them seem greenish, almost like watermelon flesh under the harsh fluorescence.
“I hear you,” he said, picking up the cones one by one, his movements smooth, practiced and methodical. “Can we, after this mess, drop by our homeroom? I forgot my wallet, and it’s quarter to six. Let's have dinner and sleepover at my place.”
Skylar’s head perked, dropping a few cones into Cirrus’s hands before slumping against the wall. The thought of meeting Candy after what felt like ages palpably shone over his pulsing agitation of cleaning an untouched storage room after hours. “Mhm, but seriously, remind me again why Mr. Lee picked us for cleanup duty?”
“He’s definitely jealous after overhearing our winning match during gym today,” Cirrus joked, knowing very well that he, Skylar, and his team were two points away from a penalty. “If I’d faked a fainting spell from the heat, maybe we’d be home by now…” He trailed off, muttering, as he stacked a final cone with exaggerated care. “Just wait until Jigyeom and Chan-il hear about this.”
Skylar laughed, a quiet sound that seemed to waft into the storage room’s thick silence. “Well, you know we’ll never hear the end of Jigyeom's stupid roast for us sticking around so long.” He paused, blowing on his glasses lens and wiping them again. “But hey, I haven’t seen Candy since… I can’t even remember. Let’s finish up and get out of here.”
Cirrus watched him for a moment, his eyes softened by the reflection of Skylar’s lingering echoes of laughter. The silence in the storage room was filled only by the steady hum of the air conditioner, which did little to mask the musty, damp scent clinging to the walls. He felt the heaviness of the day easing, only slightly, under the weight of the shared quiet.
The storage room door creaked open as Skylar and Cirrus stepped from the crowded junk into the deserted hallway. Their footsteps echoed softly, swallowed by the stillness that hung in the air. The usual sounds of laughter and locker doors slamming were absent; only the hum of distant air vents broke the silence.
Skylar walked slightly ahead, casting a quick glance back at Cirrus. “You know,” he muttered, his voice low as if the empty school demanded quiet, “for once, I was actually looking forward to a studious afternoon for our upcoming midterms – but here we are, spending extra time in this ghost town of a school.”
Cirrus chuckled softly, catching up. “Were you going to spend another night sprawled out over your study space at that cafe? Again? Since when have you decided to make that stupid study cafe your second home, when my place is perfect for you to concentrate?” His voice, though light, carried a subtle warmth. “Besides, this gives us an excuse to visit that new K-BBQ place.” Skylar blinked at him, his expression radiating annoyance and sarcasm, as his face flushed aglow in the dim light. “As if! I just… did you hear that?” Both boys paused simultaneously, turning back toward the stretch of dim, empty hallway behind them. Somewhere down the hall, a door had slammed shut. They waited, holding their breath, but no other sound followed.
“Probably just the wind,” Cirrus murmured, though his eyes scanned the darkness with an edge of wariness. “Or maybe it’s Mr. Lee finally realizing we’re still here.” Skylar snorted, breaking the momentary tension with a smirk. “Mr. Lee? He probably forgot about us hours ago. Besides, I’m too hungry to be scared by ghost stories right now.” But even as he laughed, his eyes darted around, seeking reassurance in Cirrus’s steady gaze.
They finally reached their homeroom, its sliding door standing slightly ajar, the last fading rays of sunlight casting long, crooked shadows across the floor. Cirrus moved quickly, slipping his hand into his locker and retrieving his wallet, checking its contents with a quick, careful glance. Just as he pocketed it, a faint click sounded from the hallway.
Skylar’s brows knitted together as he looked toward the door. “Cirrus… did you close the door on your way in?” Cirrus’s fingers hovered over his wallet as he looked up, the faint humor in his expression fading. “I didn’t touch it. In fact, you walked in after me. Wait-”. “You don’t think we’re locked in, do you?” Sklyar completed his sentence, a thin lace of snarkiness embraced his tone, as it hid his rising panic.
A cool breeze whispered through the open window, making the classroom door shiver slightly on its hinges. The last traces of sunlight slipped behind the horizon, leaving the room bathed in its soft aftereffects, silver-grey shadows outlining the blackboard. Cirrus glanced over at Skylar, his usual easy confidence dimmed by a flicker of uncertainty, as if sensing the change in the air.
“Well,” Skylar said, swallowing. “Good thing the view is amazing?” Cirrus nodded, his prying hands tangling the digits of his lock, while his smirk returned faintly as he nudged Skylar’s arm. “Could be worse. At least we’re not alone.”
Skylar tried the door handle again, tugging and jiggling the handle as if it might somehow loosen on its own. But it didn’t budge; instead, it rattled firmly in his grip, echoing against the silence of the empty school. He glanced over at Cirrus, his calm expression cracking slightly into one of confusion “Huh, it’s actually locked?” he whispered, his exasperated tone hoping it would make the situation untrue.
Cirrus took a step forward, wrapping his hand around the handle beside Skylar’s. He tried pulling, then pushing, but the door held fast. A reluctant laugh escaped him. “Yep. Looks like we’re officially locked in.” He turned toward Skylar, raising an eyebrow as his mouth quivered upwards.
“You’re not implying anything are y-”
“So much for some good meat. Unless your emergency plan includes magically unlocking doors.” Cirrus sighed dramatically, holding his stomach while the other caressed his forehead, as he slouched on the floor beneath the window beside Skylar’s methodically organized table.
Skylar sighed, leaning back against the door, his head thudding lightly against the wood, providing a rhythmic beat alongside his rising heartbeat. “What if the cleaning crew locked up the classrooms without checking inside? Or worse, what if we’re here until tomorrow morning?” His voice dipped into something just shy of a whine, but he caught himself, forcing a laugh to lighten the mood. “And, uh, what if I have to pee?”
Cirrus stifled a laugh, glancing sidelong at him. “Only you could make being locked in a classroom sound ridiculous.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, his confidence returning in small degrees. “Worst case, we’ll just study until someone realizes we’re here. Or, we can find an escape route similar to those movies if it comes to that. You’re the one who suggested studying, right?”
Skylar sighed, rolling his eyes but pushing off the door, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Fine, fine. But you still have some nerve, asking about studying when you’re the reason I bombed my midterms.”
He drifted over to the seat of his own, and as he settled in, the classroom took on an unexpected coziness in the deepening twilight. The moonlight began pouring through the windows, throwing soft, slanted shadows across the rows of empty desks. Skylar let out a slow breath, pulling his knees up and folding his arms across them, his posture cramped, but his eyes thoughtful.
Cirrus leaned back in his seat, glancing at Skylar with an expression somewhere between amusement and quiet curiosity. “Guess this isn’t how you planned to spend your afternoon, huh?” he murmured, a note of something softer—almost vulnerable—creeping into his tone.
Skylar didn’t answer right away. He looked down at the floor, his fingers tracing idle patterns on his desk. When he finally spoke, his voice was hushed, as if confessing to the empty room itself. “Honestly? It’s kind of… nice. I mean, when you’re around, it’s – it’s different. I don’t feel like I have to try so hard. Ok, well, it obviously wasn’t like that in the beginning, but…”. His voice trailed off, as he twiddled with the rusted zipper of his uniform sweater.
Cirrus’s gaze softened, and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, eyes locked on Skylar. “I know what you mean.” He hesitated, his words barely more than a whisper. “Sometimes, it’s like… like everyone’s watching. I put on this face, this act, like nothing can bother me. But with you…” He trailed off, shrugging, but his eyes spoke the words he couldn’t seem to voice.
A faint smile ghosted over Skylar’s lips, and he turned toward Cirrus, his glasses catching the low light. “You don’t have to pretend, you know. Not with me.”
The silence returned, thicker than before but somehow softer, laced with something new. Cirrus’s eyes didn’t leave Skylar’s, and in that quiet moment, the reality of being locked in didn’t seem so daunting after all.
“Skylar, do you remember the incident in front of the convenience store?”
”She didn’t even think twice when she threw out everything I cherished from my mom. I should have stopped her, or stooped low to grab whatever remained in the garbage. But I didn’t. I don’t know how long it’ll be until I forget her face. Not a single photo or clothing remains..” Cirrus hushed, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I used to think... if I just kept my guard up, no one could hurt me. Throughout middle school, everybody thought I was perfect. Nothing bothered me." He let out a bitter chuckle. "But it doesn't work like that. The resentfulness creeps in, taking a hold of your body, flowing through your veins, until you’re full of hatred. No matter what."
Skylar, who pretended he didn’t listen, still gazed at him, soft, hesitant, almost loving. "Yeah," he said, nodding. "I get how you feel."
Once again, quietfulness wafted in the room. Unlike an uncomfortably suffocating silence, this type of isolation was dim. It was a silence that filled the space between unsaid words, between things they had been too afraid to voice until now.
“Do you ever wonder… if our happiness was just a facade? Like, we’ve been so immersed in these roles, we lost our true selves. We perform on stage, but there’s no audience”. Skylar’s clear words wavered, his bony fingers tracing mindless patterns on his sleeve.
Cirrus exhaled sharply as he bit his tongue, a tinge of blood painting the inner corner of his mouth. "Every day," he admitted. "But tonight... It feels different. Skylar, when I’m with you, I don’t want to pretend anymore."
In the muted evening light of the classroom, both eyes met, an unspoken confession passing between them. Cirrus pushed his head, filled with the weight of every unsaid, off the locker and leaned toward Skylar, his heart racing. "I guess... what I’m trying to say is..." He hesitated, the words catching in his throat. "I don’t want to lose you. How can I continue, when you taught me to love? You taught me true happiness, and pulled me out of my lifeless void"
Skylar’s breath caught. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel the urge to run, to throw up the old revolting memories that resurfaced, to push away the things that he shadowed in the back of his wretched mind. Instead, he moved to caress Cirrus’ hand, meeting his longing gaze halfway. Under the cold, fluorescent lights, bathed in moonlight from the windows, the world outside felt far away, as if it didn’t matter.
"You never could," Skylar whispered, his voice steady now. “You’re everything I’ve been waiting for.” Cirrus laughed, shaking his head slightly as if to convey his undoubtful yearning. "You make it sound so easy."
"There’s no need for it to be hard," Skylar said, almost to himself, his hand brushing against Cirrus’ in a tentative, quiet gesture.
Cirrus looked down at their hands, then back up into Skylar’s eyes. A long moment passed, an unmistaken beat of the clock drowning in the background. The weight of everything they had kept hidden between them seemed to dissolve.
"Do you ever think the universe was just waiting for this moment? I love you Skylar, you’re the piece of me I never knew I was missing." Cirrus asked, a faint smile creeping back onto his face, but this time it wasn’t a mask — it was real.
They sat there, inches apart, the weight of everything unsaid between them slowly lifting, replaced by something fragile but undeniable. Cirrus leaned in, placing his cracked lips on Skylars, and for what felt like time had stopped, they allowed themselves to feel it — no more guards, no more pretending. Just two troubled boys, bathed under the fluorescent lights, with fate that tied them together. In such a morose world, their souls were intertwined, and they longed to seek the comfort that was hidden from them.
“I love you too,” Skylar murmured, barely breaking the kiss.
And in that moment, with the world locked out behind a classroom door, nothing else mattered. Just them.