Chapter Text
Trigger Warning: Themes of psychological distress, hallucinations, and implied past trauma.
Junseo woke up earlier than usual. The digital clock glowed 5:47 AM . He had an 8 a.m. lecture, and the thought of being late made his chest tighten in a way he couldn’t quite explain. It was only his second month at SNU, still a brand-new freshman, still adjusting.
He took a long shower. Steam fogged the glass, and for a few quiet minutes, he let himself believe it was just another peaceful morning. When he stepped out, his phone buzzed.
Leo - Missed Call
A message followed immediately.
Leo: hey juns, i called you but you didn’t pick up. just wanna make sure you didn’t miss our early class today
Junseo typed back quickly.
Junseo: just finished showering, thanks for reminding.
Leo replied instantly, as always.
Leo: no need juns, what friends for right <(￣︶￣)>
Junseo set his phone down on the bed and stared out the window, rubbing the back of his hand anxiously. He still had an hour before class. His dorm was close to the lecture hall, so he decided to cook something simple. If he wasn’t in class, he’d usually be at his part-time job. He needed the money not only for himself, but for Sanghyeon, his little brother. Their grandmother was taking care of him for now, but she was getting old. Junseo worked so they wouldn’t have to struggle.
He was stirring his oatmeal when the voice came.
You didn’t deserve to live after what you did.
His body froze. The voice was clear, venomous, and utterly his, a voice Junseo knew better than his own. Junseo pressed his palms hard against his ears, squeezing his eyes shut. “I had to,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “I had to.”
The voice didn’t stop.
You’re just a fake. A fucking, two-faced shit.
His breath hitched as he crouched down, curling into himself. “I’m sorry… I didn’t know what to do… please stop already…”. His heartbeat pounded painfully in his chest. After a minute, the voice faded, leaving behind a hollow ache.
Junseo forced himself to stand. He splashed cold water onto his face, gripping the sink so tightly his knuckles turned white. In the cabinet, a small orange bottle. He shook out a pill, dry-swallowed it, the bitter chalkiness a familiar penance. “Breathe, Kim Junseo… it’s not real,” he whispered to his reflection...one he couldn’t quite bring himself to look at.
He packed his bag and left his apartment.
By the time he arrived on campus, students were already filling the halls. Classmates greeted him cheerfully...waves, smiles, cheerful good mornings. He smiled back. It was easy. He’d done it his whole life.
Inside the lecture hall, Leo and Sangwon were waving him over. “We saved you a seat!” Leo said proudly.
Junseo blinked, momentarily confused. They’d known him two months and trusted him like an open book. He sat, and Leo immediately leaned over to borrow a pen, to peek at his notes. Junseo smiled softly, sliding his notebook closer.
But there was always a line he kept between himself and everyone else. A quiet distance. After class, he declined the café invitation with a gentle, practiced excuse. He needed silence. Not peace, he’d given up on that. He just wanted silence. Space. A moment to breathe.
He ate a quick lunch alone before heading to the library, choosing the farthest corner seat, nearly hidden behind the shelves. Still, people kept stopping by to greet him, to chat, to ask about classes or notes or weekend plans. He didn’t even know most of them. Yet they acted like he was someone dear. Even so, he never pushed anyone away. He didn’t want to be rude. He didn’t want trouble. He’d had enough of that in the past.
When the library finally quieted down, Junseo opened his journal. His hands trembled as he wrote.
___________________________________________
Journal Entry:13 November 2025
Saw him again today. Clearer. Is he haunting me or am I haunting myself?
Grandma says it’s guilt. The doctor says it’s stress. I say it’s him.
I took the pill. I always take the pill. So why does he get louder?
i’m tired. i’m so tired.
i can’t keep doing this.
but what about yeon?
who will care for him?
grandma can’t raise him alone.
i have to stay alive for him… but i’m tired.
____________________________________________
A tear fell onto the page. Then another. He wiped them away quickly but the voice returned, low and venomous.
You’re worthless. You shouldn’t live after what you’ve done.
Junseo curled his fingers into a fist, his knuckles trembling.
Ignore it. Ignore it. Ignore it.
But he couldn’t. The incident from two years ago had carved itself too deeply into him. No matter how much time passed, it refused to let him go.
Admit it. Fake. Murderer.
“I had to…” Junseo whispered, barely audible. “I just had to. Please… please stop…you made me...”
His whole body shook.
He shoved the journal into his bag, wiped down the table with trembling hands, and rushed out of the library. He couldn’t break down here. Not in public. He barely made it inside before collapsing, his back against the door, bag spilling at his feet. He pulled his knees to his chest, forehead resting on them, and waited. Twenty minutes. Twenty minutes of silent shaking, Twenty minutes of wishing the noise in his head would stop.
Only when his breathing finally steadied did he unlock his phone. He texted the one person he trusted, the person who had been his boyfriend for three years now.
Junseo: woo… can we meet?
The reply came immediately.
Geonwoo: yes. come to the park.
Geonwoo. His anchor for three years. The one who had seen the aftermath two years ago and hadn’t run. The one who, despite being the same age, carried a steadiness Junseo had leeched onto like a lifeline.
Junseo washed his face and headed out.
“Woo-ya…” he called softly.
Geonwoo turned from where he leaned against a lamppost and smiled. Junseo walked straight into him, wrapping his arms tightly around his waist. Geonwoo held him just as tightly, saying nothing, for almost two minutes, long enough for the shaking in Junseo’s body to ease, just a little.
“Are you ready to talk?” Geonwoo asked gently.
Junseo nodded, not pulling away. He rested his head on Geonwoo’s shoulder, finding a point of focus in the steady rise and fall of his chest.. Geonwoo stroked his hair slowly, comfortingly. The park was empty at this hour. Streetlights glowed softly, and a cold breeze passed through the trees.
“Woo-ya…” Junseo began, his voice unsteady. “I hear him again. He’s still haunting me. I don’t know what to do. It feels so real. What if… what if it’s not a hallucination? What if it’s really him… coming back for me?”
Geonwoo’s hands came up to frame Junseo’s face, tilting it gently until their eyes met. His gaze held no pity, only a deep, unwavering certainty. “I can’t pretend to understand everything you’ve been through,” he said, his thumb brushing away a traitorous tear. “But remember this, either it is real or not, imagined or not… I’m here. I’m always on your side.”
A sob caught in Junseo’s throat. He folded forward again, clutching Geonwoo, whispering a fractured “thank you” into the fabric of his coat.
Later, he walked back toward his dorm.
Still trembling.
Still unsure.
Still haunted.
But not alone.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
Sleep never came gently to Junseo. He always had to drag it down...like pulling a stubborn curtain over a window that refused to close. That night was no different. He lay flat on his mattress, staring at the faint shadows crawling along the ceiling, listening to his own heartbeat thud too loudly in the quiet room.
When sleep finally took him, it didn’t creep in.
It dropped.
A cold pressure snapped around his throat.
Crushing. Violent.
His eyes flew open. The room was dark, familiar. And he was pinned. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t twitch a finger. Couldn’t even turn his head. A leaden, invisible weight pressed down on his chest, rooting him to the mattress. Sleep paralysis. The clinical term flickered and died, drowned by raw, electrocuting panic.
Panic tore through him like electricity. He tried to inhale. His mouth opened. His lungs screamed for air. Nothing came. Tears spilled instantly, sliding down into his ears, soaking the pillow beneath him. His chest burned as he fought for breath that wouldn’t arrive. He tried to scream, but the sound strangled itself in his throat, trapped beneath the invisible weight crushing his neck. His fingers clawed upward, scraping desperately at his own skin, trying to tear away something that wasn’t there. Something invisible. Something hateful.
It hurt. It hurt so badly he thought his neck would snap. And then the thought came...uninvited, familiar, cold.
Is it… him?
His chest tightened further, as if the thing around his throat had heard him. He squeezed his eyes shut.
“Please… stop… please… please…”
The words came out broken, barely a breath.
Then, He jolted awake. Air slammed violently back into his lungs. He shot upright too fast, doubling over and coughing like he’d swallowed fire. His body shook uncontrollably as he dragged in breath after breath. His chest ached. His throat throbbed. But when his fingers searched his skin, there were no bruises. No fingerprints. No marks at all.
Only the ghost of pain. Only the memory of being completely helpless.
He wiped his face with shaking hands. The digital clock bled red light into the dark: 3:03 AM. The witching hour. He fumbled for the orange bottle, shaking out two pills, then a third. He dry-swallowed them. He rocked on the edge of the bed, a litany choking his burned throat: “Not real, not real, not real, notrealnotreal…”
He didn’t remember lying back down. He was simply absorbed again by the darkness.
A loud knock ripped him from sleep. His head throbbed painfully. His limbs felt heavy, sluggish, like they didn’t fully belong to him. He stumbled to the door and cracked it open. Leo and Sangwon stood there, wide-eyed, panicked.
"Junseo, what the hell?” Sangwon’s hand shot out, steadying him. “You missed three lectures. You didn’t answer any texts. We thought you were dead in here.”
Leo’s usual brightness was gone, replaced by a pale concern. “We were about to call campus security. Are you sick?”
Junseo blinked, slow and heavy. The hallway light was an assault. “Time…?”
“It’s four in the afternoon,” Leo said softly.
Junseo’s breath caught.
Half the day, gone. He didn’t remember falling asleep again. Didn’t remember anything after the pills. “I’m sorry,” he said quickly, words tumbling out. “I was just tired. After class I went to meet my boyfr...”
He froze. His hand flew up to cover his mouth.
Leo’s eyebrow lifted, a teasing grin spreading across his face. “Boyfriend? Our Junseo? Since when?”
Sangwon’s eyes lit up, the earlier fear forgotten in this new, sparkling gossip. “Wow. He must be incredible. I mean, you’re…” He gestured vaguely at Junseo’s disheveled state as if seeing the perfect student beneath. “You’re you.”
He started counting on his fingers. “Handsome, kind, smart, pretty...”
“Stop…” Junseo whispered, ears burning.
Leo’s grin turned wolfish. “Is that why you’re so wrecked? Did you two have a long… night?”
“Yah!” Sangwon swatted Leo’s arm, but he was laughing. “Don’t embarrass him! Look, he’s practically glowing.”
“I am not!” Junseo protested, but the damage was done. The narrative was set: a blissful, romantic fatigue. A better, cleaner story.
“Fine, fine! We’ll go!” Leo chirped, already backing down the hall. “But we expect to meet this mystery man soon! Bye, Juns! Get some real rest!”
“See you tomorrow!” Sangwon called, chasing after him.
Junseo closed the door with a small laugh. But the smile didn’t last even a second. Silence flooded the room.
‘You let them believe a pretty lie.’The voice was a whisper from the corner of the room, where the shadows were deepest. ‘You happy little fraud. Do you think you deserve that? Happiness? wait until you realize the whole truth kim junseo’
The voice twisted around his thoughts like barbed wire. Junseo collapsed to the floor, hands clamped over his ears.
“Stop… please stop… I’m trying… I’m trying so hard…”
His phone lit up.
His phone vibrated on the floor beside him, lighting up the dusty dimness. geonwoo ♡.
Junseo answered instantly, voice breaking. “Woo-ya…”
Geonwoo’s tone softened immediately. “Junjun? What’s wrong? Are you crying?”
“H-he’s here again…” Junseo sobbed. “I heard him… it feels real. I’m so scared. I... I felt like he was choking me… like he did before…”
“I’m coming now,” Geonwoo said firmly. “Don’t move.”
Five minutes later, Geonwoo was there. (even superman couldn't arrive this fast though, flash maybe?)
Junseo collapsed into his arms the moment he saw him, burying his face against Geonwoo’s chest. Geonwoo held him tightly, one hand cradled the back of Junseo’s head, fingers threading through his hair in a slow, rhythmic pattern that seemed to push the whispers back into the walls.
“Breathe,” Geonwoo murmured into his hair. “Just breathe. I’ve got you. I’m right here.”
And Junseo, piece by shattered piece, allowed himself to be held together. He fell asleep like that, curled on the floor in the shelter of Geonwoo’s arms, too broken to even make it to the bed.
He woke to gray morning light and an empty space beside him on the mattress. Geonwoo had transferred him at some point and left. The room was cold. A faint, familiar disappointment curled in his gut...he should have left a note...but it was quickly smothered by a wave of aching gratitude. He smiled, a fragile, private thing that felt like a secret in the silent room.
Two months passed like that. Nights filled with nightmares. Days heavy with exhaustion. Some nights the shadows whispered. Some nights he woke choking. Some nights he cried until morning. But every time...every single time...Geonwoo came when he called. He loved him with his whole heart.
Leo and Sangwon didn’t know about the nightmares. They didn’t know about the past. They did not know about the voice that lived in the air vents and the dark space behind the closet door. Junseo wanted to tell them someday. Just… not yet. He wasn’t ready for anyone else to see how broken he truly was.