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Red Taehyung wandered through the clean halls of his mansion, his fingers brushing against the smooth surfaces of the sculptures that surrounded him. They were perfect in every detail—frozen mid-laughter, caught in tender embraces, or gazing at him with unchanging adoration. Among them was the girl he adored, her hand eternally outstretched toward his.
Her sculpture awoke then the two wandered throughout the mansion, playing and laughing like carefree children, completely lost in the joy of the moment. He gathered his new friends, hosting a lively party where they danced together in harmony, filling the bright, all-white room with warmth and happiness.
He smiled, though his heart ached with a strange, hollow weight. He didn’t question it. Why would he? This world was his sanctuary, a place where love and connection surrounded him at every turn. Here, he was cherished, accepted, and understood. Yet, in the corners of his mind, a shadow stirred, whispering truths he wasn’t ready to hear.
The air shifted. A cold gust swept through the room, and the lights dimmed. The room froze as the song of his world fell silent when a presence entered—one that made Red Taehyung’s skin prickle with unease.
From the shadows emerged Black Taehyung, his sharp eyes glinting with something mysterious, his movements deliberate and unyielding.
Red froze, his hand hovering over the girl’s. “What are you doing here?” he asked with his trembling voice.
Black didn’t answer. Instead, he stepped forward and reached out, his fingers curling around the edge of the sculpture. With a sudden, violent motion, he pushed it to the ground. It shattered on impact, fragments scattering across the floor and the girl Red loved vanished from beside him. He gasped, his heart lurching as if it had cracked too.
“Stop!” Red shouted, rushing towards him. “What are you doing? You’re destroying everything!”
“Everything?” Black’s voice was calm, almost cold. He picked up another sculpture, turning it in his hands as if it were nothing more than a piece of jewelry. “Or nothing?” He let it slip from his grasp, and it shattered like the first, another one of his friends disappearing.
Black Taehyung continued to break each of the statues and Red’s friends began to disappear one after the other.
Red dropped to his knees, his hands fumbling with the broken pieces. They cut into his palms, but he didn’t care. “Why?” he whispered, tears streaking down his face. “Why would you do this to me?”
Black crouched beside him with a piercing gaze. “Because it’s not real.” He gestured around them. “This world, these people, that girl you adore—they’re nothing but illusions. Lifeless, empty sculptures you’ve convinced yourself to love.”
Red shook his head violently. “You’re lying! I feel them. They’re real to me!”
Black’s expression softened, just slightly. “You’ve been living a dream, Taehyung. A beautiful, comforting lie. But deep down, you’ve always known the truth. Haven’t you?”
The words pierced through him, and Red’s hands stilled. Memories surfaced—the stillness of the air, the unchanging expressions, the hollow ache that no amount of love or connection seemed to fill. He had ignored it, buried it, clung to the perfection of this world because facing the truth felt unbearable.
Black stood, extending a hand toward him. “It’s time to wake up.”
For a long moment, Red stared at the hand. Looking back at his own, he noticed how the fragments of the sculptures began to vanish from the floor and his hands.
Slowly, he rose to his feet. Together, they walked through the halls as Black continued his destruction, shattering every sculpture, every illusion. Red didn’t cry anymore. He didn’t beg. He simply watched as the pieces of his world fell apart, revealing the emptiness beneath.
When the last sculpture crumbled, the pristine halls dissolved into darkness. Red stood alone, the weight of reality pressing down on him. It was cold, unfamiliar, and terrifying. Yet, as he looked down at his hands, no longer bloodied by the fragments, he felt… lighter. Free.
A small smile tugged at his lips. It wasn’t a smile of joy or triumph but of quiet acceptance. The dream had ended, but in its place was something more precious: the truth.
And with that, he took his first step into the unknown.