Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A groan erupted from the figure at the sudden bright light of the overhead. It granted an instant headache as the young man pressed into the wide space. The body moved without the help of the mind; closing the door, as he adjusted to the pain sprouting in his head. Shuddering breaths filled the lavish master bath as the room threatened; more than once, to tilt completely on end. The young man attempted to move further in, but something around his throat caught and he turned to see. The brand new tether to his collar was caught in the door.

He gave a trembling sigh and popped the door open once again to get the metal cable on his side. He struggled to get it right with the headache clouding his mind, until there was sudden slack and the tether was inside the room with him. His eyes drifted back out the door, seeing everything and nothing until he saw his husband peeking around the corner. He immediately glanced down and snapped the door shut after a quick nod in his husband’s direction. The whole experience startled him.

Park Seonghwa stood with his head against the door to the excessive bathroom and waited. He half expected Marcus to come and bang almost immediately upon the door. No such thing happened in this moment and he gave a shaky sigh as he pushed himself away from the hall and his husband. Dark eyes flitted up to the ceiling, marred by the new track he was leashed to. Seonghwa reached delicate fingers to the collar around his neck and hated how tight it was. Chunky and intrusive to his body and mind. He gave another sigh and finally made his way into the room and stopped short when he caught sight of his own reflection.

Tears pushed down his cheeks as he took himself in. Heavy bags sat beneath his eyes as the only evidence of his recent sleepless nights. His makeup streaked down his cheeks with his tears and his clothes were covered in the night’s dinner. The silk was completely destroyed by the oil and grease from the food still splattered in places. The simple trousers sticking to his thighs from the wine splashed on him. There was nothing he could do for the clothing, except throw it away. He was already in enough trouble for letting such delicate fabrics become utterly ruined.

No.

He didn’t let them get ruined. Marcus had ruined them. Seonghwa repeated that over and over in his mind as his eyes inspected his reflection once more. His lips pulled a pout as he saw the tear in the fabric along his collarbone where the white silk was speckled with red. Shaking fingers moved the fabric aside and Seonghwa saw the scratch in his skin where the plate struck him. Dark eyes drifted up from the scratch to his neck as a thought entered his mind.

A few inches higher … and a little deeper … this could all have been over. Oh … what a relief that would be.

Lost in thought, Seonghwa never heard his husband call through the door. A sharp bang of a fist against the door finally pulled him from his mind and he looked to the door in the mirror. “Sawyer, are you all right in there?” the voice was stern, teetering on pissed at having to ask the question a second time. Seonghwa’s face rankled the new name. He hated it with every fiber of his being, but answered all the same.

“Yes, I’m fine. I’ll be right out,” he answered moving with a swiftness until he reached the end of his tether. He gave a gentle tug, but no more line came and he was still too far away from the linen closet for a quick change of clothes. Seonghwa reached out as far as he could, but the collar kept him in place. His fingers barely able to breeze the door handle of the small closet. With a huff, he returned directly under the track and watched as the feed of the line was taken in and not given back. He tested his movement as the tether grew taut and found he couldn’t move from the spot.

Panic set in as Seonghwa reached up to feel the collar. The tether line continued to tighten until he was forced to stand on his tiptoes to keep from choking. He gave a cough as a hard, almost playful laugh sounded from the other side of the bathroom door. In his panic, Seonghwa fought the tether line, attempting to give himself some slack, but none came.

Fear and dread quickly replaced the panic as the lock disengaged. He … he didn’t even remember engaging the lock. He knew he should get to his knees, but the feed of his tether still refused to give. So, Seonghwa awaited whatever was coming; even as breathing became difficult. He cast his eyes down and set his hands at his back in the hopes of appeasing Marcus in some small way.

“Now that--” Marcus began, pointing up at the ceiling as he entered the room. If Seonghwa had looked up, he would have seen the almost sinister yet gleeful smile on his tormentor’s face. “--is the very best investment I have ever made. When you’re on it, I’ll be able to punish you even from work. Fantastic isn’t it?” he inquired, leaning in toward Seonghwa, but never crossing into his line of sight.

“The best, Marcus. The very best,” Seonghwa managed to say, voice tight with the collar cutting into his throat. With a sudden whir, slack was finally given and the young man fell hard to his knees. A series of coughs sputtering out of him as he regained his barrings from the floor.

“I’m glad you agree, Sawyer. Glad to see that you’re finally starting to learn the rules, but--” Marcus paused again as he moved around his husband’s back. “--you did lock the door, my love,” he sneered into Seonghwa’s ear with a malice that shook the young man to his core. Habit and fear had taken over him and he had no real idea he’d even done it. He wanted to look up, wanted to beg for forgiveness, but the movement at his back told him he was already too late. “Time for another lesson, my love.” Those words, growled and spat at him, drew Seonghwa’s eyes to Marcus and the face that would haunt his nightmares.

Darkness was the last thing he would remember as his skull cracked into the tile floor.

Chapter Text

Waves crashed against the shore much as they always had. His sole comfort over the last four years. The only constant that seemed to help him sleep during those nights; even if he couldn’t actually hear the waves. The ocean and the stars; which helped him to remember his given name every time he looked up at them, his real comfort. Amorphous beings helping to keep him grounded in these trying times. Seonghwa stared out over the deck and almost felt a peace like he had not during his marriage. A contemplative thumb rested against his lips as he stared at the clouded beach beyond the windows; which were open and allowing the salty air throughout the house. It brought a pleasant chill that kept him grounded as he thought.

“Oh, there you are Sawyer, looking out at the waves again?” came that deceptive, silky voice from a few feet away. Seonghwa canted his head in his husband’s direction and gave a small, contemplative nod. He never raised his eyes to the man so as not to betray his hatred of that name. “What if I were to take you out on the boat tomorrow?” Without moving his head, Seonghwa’s eyes glanced back to the ocean with a quickness. That thumb sliding down to his chin as he worried his bottom lip between his teeth. All the poise he had learned over the years slipping some as his shoulders sagged. “Oh, seems like someone might be excited by that prospect.”

“I can’t swim,” Seonghwa admitted as he felt Marcus come up right behind him. His much taller husband was flush to his back; causing him to stand a little more straight.

“Don’t you worry, love. You won’t need to think about swimming, we’ll be on a boat,” Marcus teased, bringing his hands to rest on Seonghwa’s upper arms and causing nervous goose-flesh to blossom under his touch. “You’ll be fine, Sawyer,” he whispered into the shell of his ear before giving it a not so playful bite. A sharp intake of breath was all there was in response. Seonghwa had learned quick that any overt reactions were worthy of punishment. “Good boy. You know, I think you’ve earned yourself some quality outside time today. Stay right there,” Marcus ordered as he stepped away from his husband a moment.

Seonghwa forced himself to remain calm, kept his breathing even, and waited for Marcus to return. The calmer he was, the sooner he’d be released from this one track prison of his. It was only a minute before he heard his husband returning, the jangling of keys announcing his presence. Despite all his mannerisms, Marcus was surprisingly gentle as he removed the chunky collar; still attached to the track tether. Seonghwa pulled at his fingers to keep them from adventuring toward his neck. He knew Marcus was far from done.

“Chin up,” his husband commanded and he obeyed, lifting his chin and stretching his neck out. He felt Marcus lay a very cold, but thankfully thin metal band around his neck. It was a great change from the house collar he wore, but still hated wearing all the same. Seonghwa waited with baited breath for the collar to be locked. He gave a small sigh when Marcus gave a pleasant hum. “There, now you’re ready to go out.”

“Thank you, Marcus,” came Seonghwa’s voice, small and faraway as his head tilted back down. This showman’s collar; as Marcus had named it, was so much smaller than his normal one. The weight of what it stood for made it feel heavier to him. A constant reminder that as long as he wore it, Marcus owned him. That there was no place out in the world he would be free of that knowledge.

“Now go out and breathe in some of the sea air. Get used to it before we head out tomorrow. I’ll be back in four hours, Sawyer,” Marcus stated as he leaned down toward Seonghwa. He felt the grip on his chin before realizing what was happening. Hwa tilted his head up for the hard kiss; which he allowed passively. “Be back inside when I get home, understand?” Seonghwa nodded once at the warning and waited as his husband finally turned away to leave for work. The young man stayed perfect and still the few agonizing minutes until he heard the front door close. Every shuddering breath he wanted to take during the encounter came flooding to the surface. They threatened hyperventilation, but Seonghwa found control within himself and somehow managed to remain mostly calm.

Tears found their way down his cheeks and Seonghwa quickly swiped them away as he finally; after a year of not being let off the track, moved freely about the house. Before he did anything outside, he needed to make sure everything was in its place. Dishes from breakfast were washed and put away, leftovers were binned, everything was straight and perfect. Just how Marcus likes it, he thought to himself bitterly. He checked over the whole house, if anything was out of place, Marcus would know and….

No, he stifled that thought quickly. Seonghwa had this unfortunate knack of willing solitary into existence, so he was quick to snuff out any thought of it. He took a steadying breath as he unconsciously followed the route of the track to the foyer. It was the one area the track didn’t go and he had been conditioned to not enter the space without Marcus. The jacket he wanted to wear hung just out of reach and he had to physically remind himself that the track collar was not around his neck. His fingers tenderly grazed the bruised skin and only found the thin, showman’s collar. He stepped into the foyer, quickly grabbed the jacket, slipped into a pair of loafers, and stepped back in line with the track of the hallway. It was only in that moment that Seonghwa realized the rising panic attack. He cast his eyes to the deck and wondered if he really would be able to set foot out there.

- + - + -

“Yeah, Travis. I’m sorry to leave you shorthanded today, but I just … I don’t wanna give whatever this is to anyone else in the office, y’know? I’d hate for anyone to get sick, especially Lydia,” Marcus croaked, his eyes on the ever present iPad in the dash. The name, CAM 16 [Main Hall 1] showed in the corner of the screen and brought a smile to Marcus’ face. He didn’t hear anything of what Travis said, except the, “Hope you feel better soon.” He hated having to wipe the smile from his face to reply. “Yeah, I hope so too. Talk to you soon, bud.” Marcus hung up without waiting for a reply and returned his eyes to the screen.

Sawyer was well trained. Followed the track around the house without actually being on it. What a year this training had been, but it was growing dull. Marcus barely got hard at work anymore, even when he tightened the winch for the littlest of things. He had an itch that needed to be scratched and offering Sawyer outdoor privileges after a year of keeping him in the house, seemed the best start. If nothing came of it, then Marcus would simply need to change the rules. Again.

STATIC
CAM 03 [LIVING ROOM 2] – Sawyer softly walks through the room to the bay door and stops. He rests a hand on the glass before pushing it open and donning the jacket.
STATIC
CAM 30 [BACK DECK 1] – Sawyer exits the house hurriedly and stands for a full minute on the deck, just breathing. He moves on after that moment, hurrying down the steps.
STATIC
CAM 32 [BACK DECK BEACH] – Sawyer zips the jacket all the way up and wraps his arms around himself. He pauses again, long hair blowing in the gentle breeze before he walks.
STATIC
CAM 33 [BEACH 1] – Sawyer lazily walks the beach, bending down every now and then to pick things up. He examines them in his hands, seashells, before continuing toward the water.
STATIC
CAM 34 [BEACH 2] – Sawyer makes his way to the boardwalk and squats on the wood, pulling the jacket over his knees. He rests his head atop his arms as he looks out over the ocean.

Marcus tapped his finger in impatience against the steering wheel. He could punish Sawyer for bringing stupid shells into the house, but they barely meant anything. Merely keepsakes of the outside world that his husband had barely been a part of since they had gotten married. He thought back to the early days of their relationship. The trust he had built. The painstaking time and money he had spent wooing this fine piece of cattle. Marcus had seen from the very start that all Sawyer needed was a strong hand to take care of him and here he was, that strong hand still guiding his cattle from across the city. He thought back to when he insisted on changing names. Sawyer had fought that as hard as he could, but in the end, he succumbed, just like he always would. Oh how that had been a fun week of corporal punishment. He was getting hard just thinking about it, when movement caught his eye.

CAM 34 [BEACH 2] – Sawyer looks at something off screen, once, twice, three times over five minutes. On the third time he gets up from his squat and moves toward whatever it is.
STATIC
CAM 35 [BEACH 3] – Sawyer crosses the boardwalk to approach a payphone, reaches out a tentative hand, but stops. He waves his hand like he’s saying something out loud only to jump when the phone seems to ring again and he answers it.

“Mother fucker!” Marcus punched the steering wheel and sounded off his horn. A driver in another car looked at him, possibly wondering what he was honking at, but he only had eyes for the iPad. He had no view from the payphone to read his husband’s lips. A fact he would change by the end of the week. “Sawyer, you’re a dead man,” he whispered in a harsh tone to no one but himself, flicking the stick for his turn signal down.

CAM 35 [BEACH 3] – Sawyer doesn’t stay on the phone long. He seems to lean in for something, then back out before he hangs up less than a minute later. Sawyer visibly shivers as a breeze rolls over him and prompts him to leave.
STATIC
CAM 34 [BEACH 2] – Sawyer walks along the boardwalk with a quickness.
STATIC
CAM 33 [BEACH 1] – Sawyer slows on the sand as he picks up a couple more seashells. He glances in the direction of the boat and shivers again before moving back toward the house.
STATIC
CAM 32 [BACK DECK BEACH] – Sawyer trots back up the stairs, pausing near the top to remove his loafers and shake whatever sand might be in them out before breaching the next camera.

Marcus cursed under his breath again and the second he was able to turn when the light became green, he did. His face was a permanent scowl as he swung the car around in a u-turn. He needed to get back home immediately.

- + - + -

Seonghwa shivered as he closed the glass door behind him. He decided to keep the one in the dining room open as he was about to heat up the kitchen by making dinner. The hour out in the salty sea air had been most refreshing from the staleness of the house. Twilight was coming soon and he needed to get dinner started. He walked his shoes back to the foyer and once again fought the rising panic to make sure he disturbed nothing else. Slipping both shoes into their home, he took the jacket off and heard the jangle of shells in the pocket. The sound brought a smile to his face as he adjusted it on the hook.

“Perfect … I hope,” he whispered softly to himself, a frown pulling at his lips as he fought the pessimism in his mind. “Okay, dinner. -sigh- Dinner?” he wondered aloud as he moved; once again following the track, into the kitchen. Meal prepping was not something Marcus ever deigned to do. Woman’s work as he called it, so it was of course Seonghwa’s job. While he’d never say it aloud, if he were allowed to actually go to the store it would be easier. Seonghwa’s eyes drifted back out to the ocean and the pleasant solitude it granted. The first time in a year he’d been allowed outside and he only thought to spend an hour out in it.

Hwa hummed sadly as he opened the fridge, stocked with food he had to order online. He held the door open a few seconds before the thought. A steak dinner with roasted vegetables. That was a meal worth having. Delicate hands began to pick out all the right vegetables for the roast. He even manage to grab the teriyaki bottle from the door as he made to set everything down. The afternoon had been going so peacefully that the slamming open of the front door startled Seonghwa to his core. A shattering of glass was all he heard as the vegetables scattered along the floor. Dark eyes went wide at the mess at his bare feet. A couple dozen pieces of glass and about twelve ounces of sauce splattered out on the floor. His head shot up at the second slam of the door as it was closed. Hwa tried to remain calm, but the lock engaging on the door to the garage behind him sent him hyperventilating.

“Sawyer! You’re gonna pay for that!” Marcus bellowed from the foyer, those heavy feet already making their way toward the kitchen. Whatever he thought to do, Seonghwa knew none of it would help. Run out to the beach and risk someone seeing them? Marcus would find some way to explain his husband. Run for the bedroom? Marcus was bigger than him and already between him and the relative safety of that room. All he could think to do was to sink to the floor and hug his knees. Stomp after stomp after stomp. It drove fear into the center of his brain as he waited, terrified for whatever came next. “The phonecall, who was it?” came his husband’s voice from somewhere closer. Seonghwa knew of the cameras, how could he not? It still sent a chill through him to know that Marcus … he never made it to work today. It was all a trap.

“No one. I don’t … I don’t know who it was,” Seonghwa explained, his voice just barely above a whisper.

“A minute is a long time for someone you don’t know, love.” Hwa stilled. He didn’t dare look behind him. From the moment he heard Marcus’ voice, his own heartbeat drowned out all his surroundings. He never heard Marcus get closer.

“I swear, Marcus, my love, it was no one,” he pleaded, his voice cracking under the pressure of the situation. A tense few seconds passed and he suddenly yelped as his husband’s hand came around his throat from behind. Seonghwa felt himself easily dragged out of the kitchen as he coughed against the grip. He almost swore he heard his own voice trying desperately to get Marcus’ attention. Out of the kitchen, Marcus adjusted his grip to hold Seonghwa in both hands and thrust him back against the decorative granite wall of the living room.

“Tell me about this no one, Sawyer, now,” he growled, pressing his hands dangerously tight into his husband’s throat. Seonghwa pulled at the hands around his neck as Marcus was six foot four to his five foot ten. The predicament was in danger of rendering him unconscious as his body weight was off the floor.

“It was … no one. I didn’t -gasp- I didn’t ask … a name. They called … five … five times. Thought -gasp- didn’t realize they … had the wrong number. Please … Marcus, I can’t … I can’t … -gasp- breathe!” Seonghwa cried out, still pulling at those too strong hands around his neck. Darkness was already threatening to pinprick his vision away. He gave another yelp as he felt his body leave the wall and was completely supported in Marcus’ hands.

“Why did you answer at all!?” he growled possessively, not caring that his husband’s eyes were steadily turning red and the color was building in his face.

“W-w-worried. Thought they might -gaspgasp- trying to reach some … one. Thought … important. Death … sickness … had to be sure … they -gasp- reached … their people. Please-- no, Marcus!” Hwa begged, panic filling his voice as those thumbs pressed momentarily harder into his throat. “I read … them the number. Figure out … they put it -gasp- wrong,” Seonghwa gasped hard, darkness creeping in from the corners of the room as his brain and lungs cried out for oxygen. His rational brain knew not to fight, but the primal fear of death was winning out as his body fought for air.

Seonghwa watched through lidded eyes as Marcus tilted his head, trying to determine if what he was hearing was a lie. Just as his body was starting to calm with his eyes rolling back slightly, he dropped the Korean like a stone. Seonghwa crumbled to the floor in a heap and it was a few seconds before his brain realized he could breathe again. He took a giant breath in before coughing it back out. He couldn’t tell how long he coughed for, but when he was finally able to control his breathing again, he looked up at Marcus towering over him.

“Sawyer, Sawyer, Sawyer … I really thought you were ready--”

“I swear,” Seonghwa began in between gasps for breath. “After the third ring, I though they … might be trying to reach someone important. I let them know they were calling a paypho-- AH!” Sudden pain blossomed in his gut as Marcus placed a hard boot there. He set a fair amount of his weight upon Seonghwa and had a look of pride when the Korean tried to escape. He reached out for a chunk of dark hair and gained another cry in response.

“You had better not be lying to me, Sawyer. If you are, I swear I will lock you in solitary and not let you out for a week. Do you hear me?” The fact that Seonghwa’s whimpers had come to a full stop indicated yes, he heard and he was terrified. “Now, clean up your fucking mess; all of it, while I figure out what to do with you,” Marcus threatened, tossing his head aside and stepping over Seonghwa; momentarily putting all his weight on the young man. Seonghwa rolled with the movement, groaning as he did. The sound of the toy closet sent a shiver down his spine. He didn’t have much time.

Chapter Text

Time was impossible to tell when Seonghwa was locked in the sleepless box. It was so tight around his already bruised neck as his head tipped back in exhaustion. The mechanism made its presence known by immediately tightening in response to the involuntary movement. Seonghwa managed to cough around his gag and forced his head up once again. If only his body wouldn’t fight it so much. He would let his head fall back and surrender to the blissful arms of death. His head started to tip before he shook the thought from his mind. No, he needed to make it to tonight. Tears slipped down his cheeks again at the thought of his chance being taken away from him. A few whimpers made it through the gag as he began to cry in earnest.

Hwa didn’t know how long it had been before the tears finally dried. He sniffled as he felt movement on the bed behind him and did his best to stifle any remaining crying. He adjusted his position on the floor and sat on his feet patiently. Only to feel the box get pushed aside and held at an angle as Marcus made to pass him. The collar of the box did its job well as it constricted around Seonghwa’s throat. With the deep gag in his mouth and the tightness of the collar, his breath was already hitching in his chest. Hwa tried to pull the box back up, but Marcus tipped it further.

Seonghwa’s hands; mitted as they were, came up to the collar and pawed uselessly at the leather. He squirmed in place as his body fought for the limited air the box provided. There was laughing from outside the box before it was finally released. Seonghwa held his head up straight and took big heaving breaths. His bare chest rising and falling quickly as the gag fought giving him breath as much as the box. He barely heard another hacked laugh as it was pushed aside once more and the threat of Marcus was gone. Seonghwa forced himself to slow his own breathing. His hand were shaking as control slowly came to him and his body no longer burned for oxygen and instead ached for release. He reminded himself what he was living for and lost track of time once more. Only managing to stay awake by digging his fingernails into the palm of his hands. He felt fresh blood ooze around his fingers as he bit the gag in pain. It didn’t matter, he needed to stay awake despite every fiber of his being begging for sleep … or worse.

It had to be hours later when the box was suddenly grabbed and he was pulled up to be standing. The box bit into his chin and pulled a small groan from his as rough hands went through the motions of unlocking the sleepless box. Seonghwa breathed a sigh of relief. He had gone down the dark thought path of being left behind and his only chance of real escape being lost. When light began to peak through the bottom, Seonghwa closed his eyes so he wouldn’t be temporarily blinded. He heard Marcus mumbling sweet nothings as he opened the box fully and removed it from his head. The sweet relief of being able to breathe relatively normal was a welcome feeling as his body slowly adjusted to the scant form of freedom.

“There’s my darling boy,” Marcus said in a sweet tone that had once fooled Seonghwa. “Can you look at me?” His abuser inquired as he felt those rough fingers hold his chin tight. Bleary, bloodshot eyes slowly blinked as the brightness was allowed in. “There he is, there’s my baby. You have a pleasant night?” Everything in Seonghwa screamed no, but he nodded once into Marcus’ hand. “Good. You know you needed this, right?” The sugary tone of the question turned his stomach, but Seonghwa nodded all the same and brought a smile to his husband’s face. “Excellent. Once I get you out of this, you need to get dressed. You really earned the trip out on the boat,” Marcus explained as he released his grip and spun Seonghwa to unlock the gag.

He was eager to stretch out his aching jaw, but Seonghwa waited patiently for the straps to come undone. Marcus turned him again and ever so slowly pulled the near perfect copy of his own cock from Seonghwa’s mouth. The slowness of the movement made it all the worse and Seonghwa involuntarily gagged around the rubber member before Marcus yanked it away.

“Don’t tell me you hate my cock that much,” Marcus stated, his tone edging with contempt.

“No, no, no,” Seonghwa croaked as his voice was raw from the choking, crying, and fake cock. “I love it. You know I love it so much,” he lied with a finesse that Marcus couldn’t see through or chose not to.

“Well then, I guess we can’t go that long without it again, can we, Sawyer?”

“No, we can’t. Thank you.” A fresh tear slipped down Hwa’s cheek as his gut writhed at the words. He hated having to be thankful for the abuse and couldn’t wait for it all to end. Marcus gave a nod in acceptance of his answer and moved to leave.

“Ope, can’t forget those,” Marcus quipped playfully as he turned back and lifted Seonghwa’s hands to unlock the tight mittens. “Now, put all this away and get dressed. I’m gonna start getting the boat ready.” He wanted so badly to recoil from the kiss that came to his cheek, but stood fast and waited for Marcus to leave. When the monster closed the door, Seonghwa collapsed onto the bed. Every part of him ached. His mind. His body. His very soul ached.

Pained air was sucked in through tight teeth as Seonghwa finally pulled his balled up fists out of the mitts. Blood trickled between his fingers and down the backs of his hands. It seemed to pool around his wrists where the latex had been locked and now that the dam was gone, was slowly trickling down his exposed arms. There was only one problem, his fingers were cramped into position and trying to move them sent a shooting pain up his arms. Hwa needed to get his fingers straightened out. With a resigned sigh, Seonghwa maneuvered one set of fingers under the other and did his best to wedge his fingers apart. Quick, sharp breaths escaped him as he worked. His bottom lip sitting between his teeth in the hopes of keeping his noise down to a bare minimum.

“Ah~ aya,” he whimpered, finally able to splay the fingers of his right hand out properly. They kept threatening to curl back in on themselves, so he pressed that hand against his thigh. Hwa was grateful for the soft fabric of his lounge pants. After thirty seconds, Seonghwa lifted his hand and looked at the partial handprint left behind. Conditioning told him to clean it, but he knew; or at least hoped, that it wouldn’t be much longer. He was careful to not get blood anywhere else as he stood. His left hand; still trying to relax, held the mittens as he crossed the master suite.

Thunder rumbled directly overhead and the sound nearly made him collapse on the spot. He didn’t even hear the yelp escape his mouth, but he heard the biting laugh of Marcus from the living room before hearing the glass door close. Seonghwa glanced in the general direction as he tossed the mittens into the toy closest. There was silence. No Marcus and only the gentle roll of thunder overhead. Determination and the lack of any collar around his neck prompted him to put the plan into action. Seonghwa rested his palm against the dark wood and pressed the door of the toy closet almost closed. If closed all the way, it would latch and no one could get in but Marcus. He winced slightly as he pulled away and saw the drying blood there.

It was a risk, but one he had to take. He was counting on Marcus being too preoccupied with getting the boat and everything ready. Hwa didn’t linger long, silently hoping the handprint wouldn’t be discovered until it was much too late. Thunder rumbled softly overhead once more and brought a small sigh from the Korean as he moved to the master bath; yet again unconsciously following the path of ceiling track.

His own reflection caught him off guard. Hwa’s face was ashen from crying and he could still see the tear stains. As he followed the streaks down his cheeks, Seonghwa saw the marks the tight gag had left on his face. They were fading, slow and steady, but his eyes drifted to one that would never completely fade. Fresh tears brimmed his eyes as he brought a hand to his throat. The mark would never leave him, a constant reminder of the abuse he had suffered. Movement in the mirror caught his attention and his eyes locked onto Marcus’ reflection.

“Hurry up, love.”

“Do I have time for a quick shower?” Seonghwa’s voice sounded barely above a whisper due to the damage done over the last twenty-four hours. “Please?” he added in a begging tone.

“You know I can’t say no to that tone. You have twenty minutes, so get a move on,” Marcus stated with a slight edge to his voice before disappearing from view once more.

Seonghwa moved as quick as his exhaustion would let him, stripping out of yesterdays clothes and hopping into the quickly warming shower. The sigh of relief his whole body gave off threatened to tumble him to the tiled floor, but Seonghwa willed himself to remain standing. Wincing as the warm water ran down his back and giving him a stark reminder of the lashing he had taken overnight. Amidst everything else on his mind, Hwa had somehow forgotten that his back was likely littered with small welts. As much as he wanted to just stay under the gentle shower spray, he needed to clean himself up. The fingers of his left hand had come loose of their own accord, but still threatened to curl tight into his palm once more.

Air passed between tight teeth as Seonghwa sucked in a gasp when he exposed his palms to the hot water. Fresh blood mingled with the water as he inspected the self inflicted wounds. Little half moons smiled mockingly up at him from both hands. His nose wrinkled in pain as; for the first time in some years, Seonghwa’s eyes drifted down to his wrists. They were faded now, but he could still see them. He would always see them. Hesitation marks marred the skin around the scars on each wrist. He wasn’t ready to die then, barely a year into their marriage and the reason the track had been added to the home in the first place. That was how Hwa had first found out about the cameras.

Ten painful minutes later, Seonghwa exited the shower and tried to towel dry as quickly as possible. The crisp air on freshly cleaned wounds giving him spikes of pain all over, but he worked through it. He wrapped the towel around his waist as he moved to the medicine cabinet. The last thing he wanted was an infection, so he went through a; rather unfortunately, practiced routine to get his hands well. Or as well as he could with the antiseptic cream, medical pads, and gauze. Every little movement of his hands hurt, but he still had things to do as he picked up the brush to run through his hair. The shower hadn’t helped the look of his throat; which was feeling more and more bruised the more he moved.

“Oh my. Look at you beautiful,” Marcus stated from the doorway. Seonghwa gasped softly and looked at the reflection with a nervous smile that didn’t reach his eyes. His eyes remained on Marcus as the much larger man moved to be right behind him. The man leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to Seonghwa’s neck; causing goose-flesh to pop in his wake. “They make you look more lovely, don’t you think?” he inquired, pressing more kisses against the bruises around Seonghwa’s neck while one hand pressed hard against one of the welts.

Hwa sucked in a sudden breath at the press and gave a little giggle. “If you say so, then they must,” he agreed with Marcus, hating every word that fell out of his mouth. He only called Seonghwa beautiful when he was adorned in bruises.

“You have five minutes to get dressed, love and dress warm. We might get a bit rained on out there,” he stated as another rumbled of thunder sounded nearby, followed by a second and third. Seonghwa gave a nod and moved to turn, only to feel himself get lead by Marcus. He walked steady and with purpose with the threat at the back of his neck.

“We’re sure the storm will pass, right?” Seonghwa inquired, voice soft and small as they entered the main hall. He refused to meet Marcus’ eyes as the taller man curled in front of him.

“Oh, sweet little Sawyer,” he whispered, voice dripping with venom as his hand curled around Seonghwa’s throat and he brought the Korean directly to him. “You know, I am never wrong. Keep pushing your luck and you’ll end up in solitary or is that what you want?” Marcus threatened, a sinister grin etching its way across his face as Seonghwa vehemently shook his head. “Then don’t ask such a stupid question,” he spit, shoving Seonghwa back into the wall before walking away. “You have five minutes!”

Hwa stood against the wall, shaking like a leaf. A weird feeling of pride crept over him, something he hadn’t felt in years. Sobs were shaking his chest as his legs nearly crumbled under him. His back screamed as he pulled away to see the evidence in his periphery. Marcus had shoved him back with such force that one of the small welts had burst. He felt a fresh tickle of blood down his back and moved into the master suite with a quickness that his body was running out of energy to keep up.

He stood in front of the walk-in for a few seconds before forcing himself into the enclosed space. Seonghwa hated this closet. Marcus had trapped him in here on two occasions, but the one that stuck with him had him looking at the kennel kept on the floor. He turned his eyes away from it and the memory with a quick snap and set about finding an outfit. A dark turtleneck that would hide his bruises. He didn’t care at this point if hiding the marks would upset Marcus. After tonight, no matter what happened, it wouldn’t matter anymore. Getting dressed proved just as painful as he thought, slipping the fabric over his head and the welts on his back.

Seonghwa took a steadying breath as the pain hit the usual peaks and valleys. He closed his eyes and found himself praying to whomever might be listening. Please, he thought to himself, tears slipping down his cheeks as he moved to finish getting dressed. If anyone is listening. I need this storm. He is going to kill me. I don’t want it to be him. Please … grant me this one thing. I need this storm. “… please,” he begged softly to the world, his voice breaking as he spoke. The rest of his outfit had come together during his prayer; black trunks, dark jeans, and a lightly colored, oversized knit sweater. By the time he pulled the jeans up, his mind was back in the present and he hissed in pain. Seonghwa looked to the gauze covering both hands and saw them tinted red.

Huffing a sigh through his nose, he pulled the thumb loops of the turtleneck into place over the gauze. He was as quick as possible when the sound of Marcus began to come through the living room. Seonghwa didn’t glace at the blood on the wall as he passed it, that would give it away. He made the foyer just as Marcus stepped up the hallway.

“’Bout time. I thought you had maybe chosen solitary after all.”

“And deny you a chance to take the boat out? Never,” Seonghwa quipped back, trying to sound playful and from the hum Marcus gave, was successful.

“Hurry up,” Marcus stated as he reached to give Seonghwa a playful slap and turn toward the sliding door leading out. In a quick moment, Hwa feigned pain and gripped the jacket he had worn yesterday. The jangle of shells told him what he needed. Marcus was too preoccupied with punishing him that he never checked anything else. He kept his grip on the jacket as he slipped into yesterday’s loafers and slipped a hand into the pocket of shells. Finding the one he wanted quickly, Seonghwa stuffed it into his pocket as he adjusted his clothes before moving to join Marcus at the door.

“You finally ready?” Seonghwa nodded in response as Marcus gave him a tight squeeze. His eyes were locked the dimming horizon. The sun was setting and the clouds were moving in. Hurricane Margret was making her presence known with the near constant rumbles of thunder and the ever present threat of rain. He saw Marcus smirk at him and wondered what he saw, hopefully fear, because he was terrified of what he was about to do. “You’ll be safe as houses on the boat, don’t you worry.” Seonghwa wanted to pull away from the kiss to his cheek, but kept himself still. “I’ve got you, forever and ever,” Marcus whispered into his ear, pulling a whimper from Seonghwa.

Chapter Text

Whenever they were out in public together; a rarity as he enjoyed torturing Sawyer far too much, Marcus was a perfect gentleman to his husband. Helping the Korean into the moored boat before grabbing the line and shoving away from the dock. Marcus glanced up to the houses on either side of his expansive property and huffed through his nose at the Korean next door. He never bothered to learn the boy’s name. The one and only time Marcus had let Sawyer out to one of the house parties, he had gravitated right toward someone familiar. He watched their conversation, despite not understanding a word of it.

As the boat drifted, Marcus cast his possessive eyes down at Sawyer. That was the first night he introduced his prize to the solitary box. He stepped down hard onto the deck of the small boat and paused to run his fingers through Sawyer’s hair; enjoying immensely the wince that was granted. Marcus gave a playful giggle as he pointed all the way aft of the boat and Sawyer moved obediently.

Marcus smiled to himself as he stood at the helm as the boat drifted slow from the dock. He kicked the engine on at its lowest speed to help it along. A grin lit his face, More help than I’ve ever given that bitch. The thought had him glancing over his shoulder to look back at his husband. His most prized possession. The only help he enjoyed giving Sawyer, was help into the playroom. As he turned back out to the open ocean and the dark shelf of clouds the hurricane brought. It still looked miles off and he figured the boat was fast enough to outrun God.

Once clear of the shallows, Marcus kicked it in and heard a shout from behind him as the speed sent them out to sea. “Hang onto something back there!” he cackled over the sound of the engine. The light drizzle of the encroaching hurricane was welcoming to Marcus. Even if it didn’t stay the whole journey out. He sped passed the five mile marker and finally slowed down. Turning back, Marcus expected to see Sawyer in the seats, but he was cowered in the corner. He was on the verge of berating Sawyer when he saw the fresh tint of red on the gauze.

“Oh, my poor baby,” he mewed, releasing the wheel and stalking over to his husband. He had Sawyer so well trained. The young man refused to look him in the eye and somehow managed to sit up straighter while making himself appear smaller. Marcus saw how afraid he was and felt his cock get hard at the notion. He knelt down in a way the only escape was going overboard. “How does it feel to be out in the world again?” It was a teasing question with no right answer. Sawyer simply looked away only for Marcus to reach out and grab his chin with the quickness of a viper strike. “Answer the question.”

“I hate it,” came a croaked response.

“Really now?” The honesty Marcus heard in the answer surprised him. “Why?”

“Because it’s fleeting … and doesn’t offer your comfort,” Sawyer said, leaning his cheek into Marcus’ palm.

“Hmm, that’s wonderful to hear, Sawyer. Maybe this notion of going outside won’t ever enter your head again. You’ll stay inside where I can take of you forever and ever,” Marcus hummed, pulling Sawyer into a hard kiss. There was resistance to the kiss and he smiled into it, forcing his tongue into Sawyer’s mouth. His husband went rigid under him and Marcus realized how hungry he was to take his prize. He pulled away from the kiss and adjusted his hand to hold the whole of Sawyer’s jaw. “Enjoy this last night outside, because you’re spending the weekend in solitary. Now, get in the fucking seat.” He roughed Sawyer’s head into the waterlogged cushion and stood, frustration evident in his jeans.

Marcus returned to the helm and didn’t engage the engine until Sawyer was back on the cushions. He was barely holding onto the rails with his aching hands. The American was smug in his smile. Fear achieved. It was almost better than sex. Almost, he thought to himself as he revved the engine again and found they had drifted out beyond the ten mile buoy. Marcus was gentle with the rest of the ride out as he forgot about his husband for the time being.

The drizzle returned at the fifteen mile buoy and he enjoyed the feel. It added a cold sting that he felt his Sawyer needed desperately. His boy hadn’t been so disrespectful in so long, so it was nice to teach him those lessons again. He glanced over his shoulder to see Sawyer laying on the soggy cushions as sleep had finally claimed him. A wicked thought crossed his mind and Marcus jerked the wheel so hard that Sawyer damn near tipped overboard. He cut a harsh laugh over the noise of the engine and turned to watch the Korean fight his way back on deck. He still found it unbelievable that his husband had no clue how to swim.

He watched Sawyer pull himself back on deck and sit himself back upright, cradling his hands in pain. Genuine pleasure curled Marcus’ face into a mask of delight. Hidden beneath that was his true, sadistic self. Part of him wanted to go over and shove the Korean back into the water and hold him under. Bring him back up and back to life only to do it again until Sawyer was a well and truly broken toy.

A gust of wind nearly tore the wheel from his hands and Marcus returned his attention to the present. The dark shelf of hurricane clouds was almost directly over the boat. His brow furrowed in confusion, they hadn’t been going that fast. That’s when it hit Marcus. The hurricane had changed directions since he last listened to the forecast. He cursed aloud as another gust ripped along the sail. A vague question from Sawyer was drowned out by the crack of thunder directly over the boat. As much as he wanted to enjoy the squeal of fear from his husband, Marcus put the wheel to starboard to turn it around.

“Hold onto something, Sawyer!” he shouted over the boat crashing on the waves. He couldn’t spare a second to see if the Korean had listened and just continued toward home. Marcus glanced overhead as a rumble of thunder sounded over the extra noise. The shelf was keeping up with them and turning the early evening into the dead of night. Wind continued to make the boat fight him as the skies opened up. Torrential rain fell hard upon the couple and forced Marcus to slow his advancement home. He just caught sight of the buoy as they passed it, number obscured by the falling rain.

Marcus was barely holding the boat on a steady path as the wind wiped hard against the sails, threatening to pull the tight knots lose. The wheel fought him something fierce as he did his best to navigate back to the docks. He called out orders to Sawyer left and right, but didn’t look back as a wave crashed into the boat and nearly tipped it over. He shook the water from his hair with a hearty laugh.

“Holy shit. That was some fucking wave, wasn’t it, Sawyer?” Marcus finally looked back to the seats … only to see them empty. A single loafer where his husband had once stood. His stomach dropped. Sawyer couldn’t swim. How long had he been overboard? “Sawyer!?” he screamed out, trying to be heard over the storm. Marcus only succeeded in making himself hoarse the more he screamed out for his husband. He couldn’t hear his own voice over the storm, how was he supposed to hear the Korean’s? Panic filled his heart for the first time in years.

In a moment of potential madness, Marcus released the wheel and went to the side. The spotlight there burned bright in the dark as he swung it to find his prize. The boat continued to rock and move as the storm raged around him. There was no sign of his husband. He growled the chosen name so loudly that he grated his throat even more. His only answer was the sweater Sawyer had been wearing, floating nearby. Marcus reached out and grabbed the sweater and screamed with everything he was.

“Sawyer!”

- + - + -

Marcus was fuming. He had nearly put a fist through one of the walls and was prepared to do worse if not for the sheer number of police officers crawling over his property. They were already asking questions he didn’t care for and didn’t want to give them anymore reason to be in his home. The sun was fighting the remnants of Margaret for supremacy of the sky and currently losing. Rain gently pelted down upon him and he did his best to ignore it.

The still soaked sweater was tight in his grip as he hoped he portrayed the grieving husband instead of the furious owner he really was. Bright green eyes were focused on the coast guard boats floating along the water. They were utterly useless in their search methods and only further steeped Marcus into his bad mood. His eyes snapped away from the coast guard to the house next door. Marcus would make the Korean pay. He saw no movement within the house, but was sure … whatever his name was was somewhere inside. That little shit had to be the one that phoned the police and coast guard, because Marcus had no intention of doing either.

His home had been infiltrated by cops wanting to use it as a base of communication with the coast guard. Something about keeping the equipment dry. Marcus hadn’t really paid attention to anything they had said. He just agreed in the hopes his prize would soon be home so he could beat Sawyer to a bloody pulp. If that fucking twink is alive, I’m gonna kill him, Marcus thought to himself.

- + - + -

Chief Bode had taken the call late last night himself. Some idiot had gone out just before the storm made landfall. She was a category one hurricane at the time, but no sailboat built for a few people was going to last long. The more he studied the home owner, the more uncertain he became that this might just be an honest mistake. Despite the shivering of his shoulders, the beast of a man remained on the deck outside, watching the; hopeful, rescue efforts. His pen tapped against his notebook where he listed everything Mister Levitt had said and the inconsistencies he had noticed.

“Sir?”

“Hmm?” Bode hummed when he was addressed. Officer de Marco stood at the end of the hall looking at him. Her eyes flicked to Mister Levitt then back to him before she waved the chief over. His brow furrowed as he glanced toward Levitt himself before standing to approach the junior officer. “Yes, de Marco?” he inquired in a low hush.

“There’s something you need to see, Sir.” She motioned for him to follow and he did with out second thought. “I think more happened than he’s letting on,” she whispered, keeping close to the far wall; causing Bode to follow suit.

“You got that feeling too?”

“Yeah, but that certainly helped,” she explained, pointing out a blood smear on the opposite wall.

“Whoa. What made you come and check for that?”

“Well, the inside of the house wasn’t a scene, so I was gonna use the head, but not anymore,” de Marco stated in an obvious tone. “You can just see a trail of blood leading to and from the bathroom and that.” She pointed directly up to the ten foot ceiling and the worn track there.

“… what the fuck?” Bode finally said after a thoughtful minute.

“It reminds me of this episode of ‘Elementary’ where a guy held a woman captive in his home and kept her attached to a leash track, just like that. We’re sure that this Sawyer is his husband?”

“I’ll have registrations checked, just to make sure, but no matter what, I have some questions to ask Mister Levitt,” Bode stated with a glance back down the hall toward command. “Okay, I’ll send Jones to help, clue him in and follow protocol. Hug the walls, search for more evidence of blood and anything else. Shout me an affirmative for blood or affirmative and more for anything else over the radio. I’ll speak with Mister Levitt,” he explained, getting a nod in return as he carefully moved back toward the living room. Bode was pleased to see that Levitt was in the same spot he had left him in.

“Chief Bode, coast guard,” Officer Jones stated, holding a receiver out to him.

“Jones, quietly go help de Marco in the hall. Follow her lead, okay?” He took the handheld, not once taking his eyes off Marcus.

“Yes Sir.” Was all he heard as Jones stood to join his fellow officer.

“This is Chief Bode, what’s the word?”

“Not good, Sir. Divers are having no luck. If they only went out to the five mile marker, we likely should have found him by now. It’s been nearly twelve hours, we’re coming in. It’s likely Sawyer was washed away in the storm, I’m sorry, Sir.”

“Thank you for your efforts, I’ll let the husband know,” Bode sighed down the line as the call disconnected. He set the handheld back in its cradle and adjusted himself as he walked toward Marcus Levitt. “Mister Levitt, I’m afraid they aren’t having any luck. I’m sorry. They’re bringing the divers up.”

“No. He … he hasta be out there, they aren’t looking hard enough.” Bode marked the tone, Levitt was furious. “He’s so lost without me. He has such a difficult time taking care of himself, you know? He hasta be out there somewhere. Tell them to keep looking.”

“They’ve been at it for twelve hours, Mister Levitt.”

“Then get new divers.”

“Are you sure you were only five miles out?” That question got a response. Small, but a response all the same. Levitt finally pulled his eyes from the ocean to cut them at Bode; whom got the distinct impression that look was used to scare the lost husband.

“I’m sure. Sawyer didn’t like not being able to see the house.”

“Being unable to swim, I’m sure that any time out on the water was frightening,” Bode prodded, looking for another response. Which came in the form of a tightening jaw. One could almost hear the teeth grinding before Marcus spoke in a tone that Bode was pretty sure was supposed to be pathetic, but wasn’t.

“What are you insinuating, Officer Bode?”

“Chief. I’m simply getting my facts straight from the information you’ve given. Sawyer Levitt couldn’t swim, correct?”

“Correct, but what are you saying? That I took him out there to kill him and ruin my own life? Why the fuck would I do that?” Marcus said with an inflection he knew was wrong the moment the words left his mouth. Bode watched Marcus suck his lips in just to keep from saying anything else that might land him in more trouble when the radio on his shoulder crackled to life.

     de Marco for Bode, over.

“Go for Bode, over.”

     Affirmative and more, Sir. Over.

“Thank you, de Marco. Call forensics, over and out.” Bode released the radio and returned his attention to a very annoyed Marcus Levitt.

“Forensics? For what?”

“A number of the inconsistencies in your story. Anyone could see that hurricane Margaret was on her way--” Bode held up a finger to keep Marcus from interrupting. “And anyone truly paying attention would have checked the news before heading out on their boat last night to see that the path had changed. Then there’s the lack of him wearing a life vest when you knew he couldn’t swim. The fact the neither life vest was being worn is enough cause for worry, but that is negligence. Then there’s the blood in your house,” Bode stated with a finality just to see what the response was this time.

He watched Marcus’ head tick sharply to the left. “What?” His tone was hard, full of shock and anger.

“It starts in the hall and goes into the bathroom and your bedroom. Would you care to explain that, Mister Levitt?” Chief Bode asked, never taking his eyes off Marcus and speaking slowly as if he was addressing a child. He saw a vein pop on the owners neck as he tried to out think the situation.

“I … I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he tried to lie, but Bode could easily see through it. He was well versed in dealing with abusers, but was glad when de Marco and Jones stood in Mister Levitt’s way to keep him from entering the home.

“We have some more questions to ask you Mister Levitt. Would you mind taking a seat?” He pointed behind him to one of the deck chairs. The officers had their hands on their firearms in case Marcus thought about running, but he gave a resigned sigh and moved to the aforementioned chair.

Chapter Text

- Seventeen Months Ago -

“You be right back here in an hour for pickup, got it?” Marcus explained with a tight grip on Seonghwa’s wrist. He nodded quick while trying to keep his face from betraying the pain. “Good, go have fun.” Marcus released him and shooed him out of the car. Not needing to be told twice, Seonghwa exited the vehicle in a rush. He only just managed to close the door behind him before his husband pulled away. A moment passed before he finally moved into the park.

Seonghwa breathed a heavy sigh of some kind of relief as he tried to massage the ache from his wrist. The ring he wore caught the light and brought him to a standstill. His breathing quickened as tears welled up from the depths. A sob escaped him as he tucked the hand in his pocket and found a covered spot to sit. The sun warmed bench was most welcome and reminded him of so much he had recently been denied. Seonghwa tried to lean back, but shot up in a hiss of sudden pain. Another sob broke through as the realization that simple comfort in the day was denied him.

He scrunched his trousers in his fist as tears started to come freely. Seonghwa did his best to curb it, but that only made it worse. Instead he gave in, brought his knees to his chest, and cried into the crook of his elbow. He cried freely with no one looking over his shoulder. After ten or so minutes, Seonghwa’s crying slowed to almost nothing. He gently roughed a hand over his face to wipe away the tears. Resting his elbows between his body and his knees, Seonghwa held his face in his hands. He made himself take up as little space as possible in the hopes of blinking out of existence.

“Ttong,” he cursed in his native tongue. Curled in on himself, Seonghwa felt a kind of peace. It was comforting in the sun-dappled light through the trees. May’s weather was in full swing, but even in this peace, he found himself unable to enjoy it in full. He was so lost in his own head that he never heard the soft footsteps approaching, nor his name being called.

“Park Seonghwa?” came the voice from much closer that it caused him to jump and turn toward the speaker. Fear was first on his face, but it quickly changed when he saw his next door neighbor.

“Lee Tae Min! You startled me, how have you been?” Seonghwa asked as casually as he could. Tae Min huffed through his nose and stepped forward to hug Hwa now that he was uncurled. It was a few seconds before he returned the hug, squeezing Tae Min so hard he was worried he might break him.

“I’ve been fine, Seonghwa. You though, I should be asking you that question. I haven’t seen you outside in months. I’ve been so worried,” Tae Min admitted, not at all minding how tight Seonghwa held on; who stiffened at the question before pulling away.

“You know it’s Sawyer now. I’ve been fine too. Nothing to worry about,” he blatantly lied, letting Tae Min go and motioning for the young man to join him on the bench. He did and Seonghwa felt eyes on him the entire time, begging for answers.

“Fuck that. You are not Sawyer Levitt, you are Park Seonghwa and you will always be that to me,” Tae Min explained in a rough tone that told Seonghwa all he needed to know about how his friend felt about the new name. He hated it himself and had hated it from the moment it left Marcus’ lips. He still held scars from that argument. “Months, Seonghwa. It’s been months that I haven’t seen you and you say you’re fine? Please, I want to help.” Tae Min spoke soft and the tone pulled a fresh bout of tears from Seonghwa. He felt so embarrassed to be crying again, but the reality of his situation came crashing in on him and he couldn’t stop himself. He felt a comforting hand on his shoulder as Tae Min moved a bit closer. “Seonghwa, please, what is going on?”

Hwa did his best to keep from outright sobbing, but shook his head at Tae Min. “I can’t … Tae Min, I’m sorry, I can’t.” He started rocking slightly as if preparing to run, but his legs were shaking far too much.

“If you’re worried about Marcus showing up, I waited to make sure he wouldn’t. I even walked around the park to make sure he wasn’t just around the corner. You and I are alone here until he comes back,” Tae Min explained, causing Seonghwa to still his movements.

“You won’t believe me. No one does. Everyone thinks he’s so … perfect. A silver tongue that can charm anyone,” Seonghwa growled as he roughed his hands over his face until they were in his long hair and holding tight.

“Your actions right now are enough proof that he isn’t perfect. Tell me how I can help, please?”

“Promise you’ll fight when they try to bury me as Sawyer Levitt.” As much as he wanted that to be a joke, it wasn’t and it didn’t sound like one either.

“… what?”

“He has me so low, Tae Min. I had things I wanted to do, but he … he’s only given me an hour. So I won’t leave the park. Then I’ll get back in his car, lie about what I’ve been doing, and go home,” he whispered, almost hoping he wasn’t speaking aloud at all. Unknown to himself, Seonghwa pulled at the collar of his shirt, revealing part of the ever present bruise and the glint of something metal around his throat.

“Seonghwa … is he hurting you?” The way he stilled would have told Tae Min everything he needed to know, but he nodded once all the same. “And no one believes you?”

“You said yourself. You haven’t seen me in months. Who can I tell when I only have him?” Seonghwa explained, finally turning his tear filled eyes to his friend. “He won’t let me go and I can’t leave him. I tried once … it didn’t go well. And if I’m going to die, it’ll be by his hand, because he won’t let me. I know,” Seonghwa said quietly. He let the information sink in and saw the distress on Tae Min’s face when it clicked.

“The ambulance in December. That … I.” Tae Min fumbled his words for a few seconds as he came to terms with the information. “I hate him so much more than I thought I could.”

“That’s why, when he kills me, I need you to fight for me to be buried as Park Seonghwa. Please,” Seonghwa begged, reaching out to grip Tae Min’s hand in his.

“No, because I’m not letting that happen. You and I have--” Tae Min checked his watch and cursed. “Damn, twenty minutes left. You and I have ten minutes to make a plan to get you free of him. I am not going to let the world lose such a bright star. I’ll make sure that whenever you’re let out, that we can talk. Even if it’s only for a few minutes. We need to have a plan. Okay?” Tae Min begged softly, moving his head to follow Seonghwa’s line of sight.

“You’re … you’re serious?”

“Of course I am. Seonghwa, you need someone in your corner. Someone who will listen and believe you and I am here for you.” The earnest honesty in Tae Min’s voice caught Seonghwa completely off guard. Words caught in his throat as he saw; for the first time in a very long time, a friend.

- Fourteen Months Ago -

The August heat was in full swing as Seonghwa was pushed from the car. Marcus said one hour and sped off with such force that the passenger door closed. He whimpered while pushing himself to stand. Seonghwa glanced around and despite being the middle of summer, was happy to find that only a few people were in the park. Only when he was satisfied that no one had seen his exit from the vehicle did he move into the park.

Seonghwa ignored his growing anxiety as he moved into the greenery. Marcus had picked his outfit and the barely there tanktop he wore showed off his scars, his current bruises, and the dreaded showman collar. At the same time, he was doing his best to ignore the pain in his ankle that forced him to limp all the way in. He glanced down to see the start of the bruise in the center of his chest and stopped walking. No, he couldn’t face Tae Min like this.

“Hwa?” came a voice from behind him. The concern in the tone choked Seonghwa up before he even thought of turning to face his friend. “You … let’s sit down.” Tae Min moved into his space, hooking his arm around Seonghwa’s waist to help him to a seat. He hissed in pain as everything hurt, but didn’t argue with the help as his ankle was the worst of it.

He couldn’t look at Tae Min as his friend took in his entire being. Seonghwa tried to hide as much of his torso as he could, but even that hurt to do. “I … I’m sorry I’m late,” he whispered, barely glancing up to see the look on his fellow countryman’s face.

“Late … Seonghwa. Why did he keep you for so long? Did he … did he find us out?” He watched Tae Min quickly glance around the park and half expected Marcus himself.

“No, he doesn’t know. He--” Seonghwa started, only to gasp when a movement made his chest throb in pain. He took a few deep breaths as Tae Min sat next to him. When the pain subsided, he continued. “He … changed the rules on me. Then he said that’s how they’ve always been. They haven’t always been that, I know,” he finished before catching himself. Seonghwa cast his eyes sideways at Tae Min to see his face. He was pissed and it was written all over his features.

“I think it’s high time we put our plan into action, Seonghwa.” Tae Min’s tone was set and very serious. The Korean’s stared at each other for a moment before the bruised and battered fell into his friend. “I’ve got you, Hwa, and I’m going to get you away from him. I promise.” Seonghwa stiffened against Tae Min as uncertainty reared its ugly head, but he nodded all the same.

- The Day before Yesterday -

Ignoring the weight of the showman collar, Seonghwa took his first steps outside his prison in over a year. The salt wind stung as autumn had set in now that Halloween was right around the corner. He cast his eyes down at the beach and caught a sight in his periphery. Tae Min’s boat was moored at his private dock. He pulled the jacket tight as the biting wind drew his attention out to the ocean. The hurricane wasn’t intended to make landfall, but he hoped she would. The wind, rain and sudden nightfall she would bring would make escaping so much easier. He didn’t care if it also increased his chance of dying, Seonghwa needed this. No matter the cost.

He trotted down the stairs and quickly made his way into the sand. Waves crashed only a few feet away when he finally stopped to listen. The noise had been his only true comfort during the last year. Now that he was down next to them again, oh how he just wanted to wade out into the water and disappear beneath the surface. Seonghwa even made to take a step forward when he kicked something up in the sand and looked down to see the only sand dollar. He bent to pick it up and a few other shells so as not to arouse suspicion. The shell was rough on top and smooth on the bottom as he ran it through his fingers.

Seonghwa stood back up and made his way toward the boardwalk. Inspecting all his shells. The sand dollar was the only important one. He placed all the shells; disguised air tag included, into his jacket pocket. He knew roughly where the cameras were and made sure to be seen as he squatted on the boardwalk. Zipping the jacket around his legs, Seonghwa waited. He hoped that Tae Min was still home and that their plan from over a year ago wasn’t forgotten about.

The ringing of the old payphone from behind him startled him to his bones. Seonghwa let out a quiet curse before giggling to himself. He let the phone stop ringing one, two, three times before finally getting up. Hope and fear were kindled in him. Hope that it was Tae Min following their year old plan. Fear that it was someone else entirely. By the time he cautiously made his way closer, the fourth call had already ended. The fifth made him jump again and he reached a slow hand out to answer it.

“Seonghwa!?” came his friend’s voice down the line. He could have broken into a fit of tears then and there, but held himself together. “Is it finally happening?”

“Tomorrow evening. I found your gift, you sure it still works?” Seonghwa replied as he leaned in and looked as if he was reading something off the phone itself.

“I’ve replaced it at the start of every month, you’re good. As long as you have the tag, I’ll be able to find you. Stay safe,” Tae Min explained, causing Seonghwa to hide his grateful smile from the cameras.

“You too, good luck,” he said softly as he slammed the receiver back in the cradle. He didn’t have to play off the conversation as fear gripped his heart. It was really happening. At least, it should be. He glanced in the direction of his prison just seeing the cameras looking at him. He shivered hard as the wind ripped through him and made his way back to the house. Seonghwa was sluggish on his way back, like he was walking through molasses. He tucked both hands in the jacket pockets, holding the air tag dollar tight in one hand.

He paused where the beach was dry sand again and glanced back out over the ocean. Fear and hope mingled on his face as he cast his eyes over the expanse of water. He absentmindedly spun the ring on his finger. It would feel so nice to be rid of it soon. Seonghwa smiled to himself before finally turning and making his way up the stairs.

- Last Night -

The act of falling overboard wasn’t exactly a difficult task as the remnants of Margaret made herself known. It was stronger than Seonghwa had expected, but he was glad of it. It would make finding him in the water that much more troublesome and it was keeping Marcus’ focus elsewhere. Seonghwa turned to see the wave coming. The wind alone nearly took him overboard, but the crashing wave made it a certainty. With a lungful of air, Seonghwa accepted the motion as the wave nearly tipped the boat and carried him beneath the surface.

He turned and tumbled, driven by the force of nature; which had pulled him out of the oversized sweater. He was thankful for the help and shoved it to what he hoped was the surface. Seonghwa saw light barely breach into the tumultuous water and started to swim in the opposite direction. Adrenaline sent him far before he had to come up for air. He breached the surface only to be forced back under by another great wave. Seonghwa fought the current, he wouldn’t let this ruin his chance. He breached the surface once again and took in great lungfuls of air, ocean water, and rain.

Seonghwa shook his long hair from his face as he glanced around. The hurricane made it so much more difficult to see than he was expecting it to. He never heard his voice as he whispered to himself. Exclamations, curses, how could he have been so stupid. He was certain tears were streaming down his face when another wave sent him under. Turned and tumbled again, Seonghwa held his breath until released and he could surface safely. A huge gasp for air came from him as he met the air.

A red flash of light caught his eye and treading water, Seonghwa glanced over to see the buoy bobbing in the ocean. He couldn’t tell how far away it was, but it hardly mattered as he started to swim. He pushed his body to the limits as the buoy came into view through the rain. A wave grew under him and surged him forward. Seonghwa collided hard with the mile marker, but he hooked an arm on it so as not to be dragged under by the wave. He clung hard to it, resting a hand over the number five on it. The buoy bucked hard under him, but he refused to let go, if he did, he’d be lost. All he had to do was wait for Tae Min. As he clung to the ocean marker with everything he head left, Seonghwa prayed to the same whomever was listening to steer Marcus as far away from him as possible.

After an hour, sleep tried to take him and Seonghwa momentarily slipped from the buoy. He sputtered a cough as he took in the ocean water. He was shaking when he manged to get a hold of the buoy again. “No. You’ve come too far, this is not where you die. Tae Min is coming, he’s coming,” Seonghwa whispered over and over again to himself. The storm was finally showing signs of slowing. He rested his head against the metal as worry coursed through him. What if Tae Min’s boat couldn’t fight the storm? What if Tae Min had decided he wasn’t worth the trouble after all?

He punched the buoy and heard the metal of his wedding band clang against it. His eyes locked onto the bit of metal that bound him to Marcus and quickly made to rip it from his finger. The titanium shown bright as a streak of lightning streaked overhead. With a sudden motion, Seonghwa let the thin metal slip through his fingers and disappear under the sea. A terrifying thought came to him as he floated there and he pressed a hand to his throat. Tears immediately came to him. In the rush of getting ready after the sleepless box, Marcus had never put the showman collar back around his neck. There was no longer anything on his person that bound him to his abuser.

A hand found his shoulder and brought a scream out of Seonghwa. “Hwa, it’s me, I’ve got you,” Tae Min stated from his little row boat as he was nearly drowned out by a boom of thunder. Seonghwa turned slightly and felt a smile break across his face at the sight of his friend. With Tae Min’s help, he made it into the boat.

“You came,” Seonghwa cried against his friend’s shoulder.

“Of course I did. It doesn’t matter when I said it, I told you I would save you from him. Now let’s get you in and dry before he finds us here.” Tae Min patted Seonghwa’s shoulders before maneuvering around him to row them back to his home.

Chapter Text

Getting Seonghwa to sleep was the easiest thing in the world after hanging on an hour in a hurricane. Keeping him asleep was a different matter entirely. Fear and pain kept waking him, but Tae Min was there for comfort. He cooed Seonghwa to sleep once again around midday and was thankful that it seemed to take as exhaustion truly set in. Tae Min watched Seonghwa for a few minutes before the sound of a car pulling into the drive caught his attention.

“Oh not now,” he muttered softly before exiting the master suite and closing the door behind him. He heard the sheets rustle and hoped, prayed that Seonghwa would stay asleep the whole time. An authoritative knock sounded on the front door. He took a deep breath before opening the door to see two police officers on his stoop and his breath caught in his throat. “Please, have you found him?”

“Mister Lee?”

“Yes?”

“We’re following up on your call from last night. I’m Chief Bode, this is Officer de Marco. Do you mind if we come in?”

“Of course I don’t,” Tae Min opened the door fully and gestured them inside. “Why don’t we sit in the living room? I have a friend that’s been traveling and they’re sleeping the jet lag away,” he explained with a soft smile as he closed the door behind the officers. Tae Min then lead them as far away from Seonghwa as possible. “Can I get either of you a drink? Water, coffee?” Both shook their heads as Tae Min gestured to the loveseat for the officers. When they sat, so did he, in a single seat opposite them.

“Mister Lee--”

“Please, Tae Min is fine. I gather from your lack of an answer, you don’t have good news, do you?” His eyes flicked between their faces as his own pulled a frown. “Were you at least able to find him?”

“I’m sorry to tell you this, but no. There’s been no sign of Sawyer Levitt,” Chief Bode stated, causing a hand to come to Tae Min’s face as the frown deepened. “I’m so sorry for your loss. You two were close?”

“As close as Marcus would allow,” Tae Min stated, surprising himself with the force behind his words. Years of not being able to contact his friend and the frustration of the situation overpowering his sadness for the moment.

“Interesting, would you care to elaborate on that?”

Tae Min took a steadying breath before speaking. “Last night was the first time in … at least thirteen months that I had physically seen Sawyer outside that house. It looked like he was being dragged along. He couldn’t swim,” Tae Min explained, casting glassy eyes out toward the ocean. “I tried Marcus’ cell first, then the boat phone, but the automation said the number was no longer in use. By the time I ran out there to scream over the wind, they were already out in the open water. I have my own, but it’s not well motorized. I never take it out far. I--I never … I never would’ve caught them,” Tae Min sighed, his voice catching in his throat. “I should have at least tired.”

“It’s more than likely a good thing you didn’t. We’d be looking for two bodies instead and we wouldn’t be able to question you about their relationship. As much as it hurts, it’s good that you’re here to help us, help him. Now, we’ll get back to the last time you saw Sawyer in a moment, but he didn’t have a cell you could call?”

“No. Not anymore I mean. He did when they first started dating and then shortly after their marriage it was taken away. I remember trying to call it and it said the number no longer existed. Seems to happen a lot around Levitt.”

“You’re sure about that?” Bode asked as de Marco took constant notes.

“Sure? Yes. Positive? I could never get Sawyer to admit it. There were a lot of things I couldn’t get him to admit, fear you know. Marcus was good at instilling fear and sweeping it under the rug.”

“Okay, there’s already a lot to unpack there. Why don’t we go back to the last time you saw him, Sawyer … or would you prefer to address him by his Korean name?” Bode inquired with a kindness that honestly surprised Tae Min.

“I would, but Park Seonghwa didn’t die or get murdered out there, Sawyer Levitt did,” he said with an appropriate frown on his face. It wasn’t difficult for Tae Min to appear sad over the loss of his friend as he had felt like he was losing him for the last five years. “I bet you couldn’t get Marcus to say it,” he added bitterly.

“No, we couldn’t. What did he have against his name?”

“You’d have to ask Marcus. I just remember the fight over it.”

“They fought over the name change?” Bode glanced at de Marco; who shrugged back before returning to her notes.

“They were out on the deck. I remember it being a very pleasant night so most of us were out on our decks. The family on the other side of me was having a cookout. I was asking about what they were having because it smelled delicious when we all heard Marcus raise his voice. I turned and his voice got louder, then he yanked Seonghwa out of the chair and threw him inside. When he saw people were looking at him, Marcus tried to play it off, but I went inside and immediately called the police,” Tae Min explained, roughing a hand over his face as he thought back to that night.

“So there’s a record of this call?”

“It was over four years ago, I don’t know how far back your records go, but I’d like to hope. For Seonghwa. He deserves that much justice at least.” Tae Min paused for a moment until he shook his head and returned to the main topic. “Sorry, you asked about the last time I saw him. Almost a year and a half ago I found him in the park. We talked for a while. At that point it was the first time in nearly two months that I had seen him. I saw a bruise around his neck. I called the police that night and asked for a wellness check as I had reason to believe he was being abused. I watched them come and speak with Marcus, but they never made it inside the house,” he stated, shaking his head. “Marcus was always a silver tongued devil. He could just about charm his way out of anything.”

“He might have just met his match. I don’t charm easily,” Bode said with a slight grin. de Marco was smirking as well, but quickly wiped it off her face as Tae Min opened his mouth again.

“One can only hope … even if it’s too late to save Seonghwa,” Tae Min let the bitterness run through his words before sighing to keep his cool. “Sorry. It just … it sucks to know that I’ve tried to get someone to listen about Marcus for years. It’s only now that my friend is likely dead that people are hearing me. That people are listening for him … when it’s basically too late to do anything.”

“I understand that you’re upset and I am so very sorry for the loss of your friend. I give you my word that any evidence we find of what he did to your friend will be used to put him away for a very long time.” Tae Min watched Bode speak, roughing a hand into his dark hair before wiping away genuine tears.

“Thank you, better late than never as they say.” He wiped at his cheeks again as a bitterness rose in him. Was he beyond happy that Seonghwa was safe? Yes. But the measures they both had to go through just to get here. This could have been avoided. Tae Min huffed a strained sigh before continuing his side of things. “After that it was … another three months before I saw him outside again.”

“So, you’re telling me that over the course of the last year and a half you have only seen your friend outside the house three times?”

“I am and I did. That time he was wearing something he wasn’t comfortable in. It didn’t cover any of the bruises.”

“Do you have any evidence of these bruises?”

“Um, yes. Hold on a moment,” Tae Min raised a finger as he stood. He headed toward his bedroom, creeping inside to mime grabbing his cell when he was actually checking on Seonghwa. He closed the door just as quietly and waved his phone at the officers. “I can’t believe I left it in there. I’m just glad it didn’t go off,” he said while flipping through his photo albums until he found the one he was looking for. Tae Min held the phone out to Chief Bode and let him take it.

“Holy--” Bode caught himself before saying anything else and just stared at the phone as he swiped through the album.

“Yeah, it was hell getting him to agree just to take the photos. He didn’t want to get in trouble.”

“Did you ever show these to anyone?” Bode inquired, reluctantly handing the phone back over.

“Of course. I had called in another wellness check, but no car came out. So I went to the station and showed Officer … um … Officer what? What was his name? Gale, I think.”

“Clive Gale,” de Marco spoke, noting down the name with some disgust.

“Yes, that was him. I brought him the photos and he said that the makeup was shoddy at best. That I was trying to slander a good man’s name and served me a restraining order,” Tae Min explained as he looked down at the year old pictures. The bruise around Seonghwa’s neck was worse now and in the back of his mind he knew it would never heal completely.

“A restraining order, for what?”

“Harassment. I was trying to protect my friend and he figured out the best way to bar me from that. Then he spoke to the HOA and I get a notice the next day to remove my cameras. None of which were pointed at their house at the time, but his were allowed to stay up. I filled a counter argument and lost because he claimed not to have any cameras installed. I know that’s a lie. It might have been four years or so ago, but I know they started with the outside cameras first and then spent hours inside. For the work he was doing out on the beach for his cams, he would have had to file with the HOA but they refused to look up the information,” Tae Min huffed, turning his phone over on the sofa beside him and leaning back on the cushion.

“No wonder you sound so bitter. It must have felt like the whole world was against you helping your friend. Mister Levitt didn’t say anything about having cameras, did he?” Bode turned to de Marco; who quickly flipped back through her notes.

“’No, officer, no cameras. The HOA doesn’t allow that sort of thing. They have it all covered.’”

Tae Min huffed through his nose. “Trust a snake to have friends in high places. I did comply with the motion. I removed the overt cameras, but … I left one facing their house. It doesn’t see that well at night, but getting my friend Ki in yesterday, I forgot to check the footage. If you give me a minute, I could bring it up on my computer?” Tae Min offered, pointing a hand to the open office area behind the officers. Bode nodded and he moved into the office to find what he needed.

- + - + -

In the quiet aftermath of so much information, Bode could only hear de Marco’s pencil as she wrote her notes. He glanced at her and motioned for her to follow him as he stood. He put a little more distance between them and Mister Lee before speaking.

“We need to check if Clive has any ties to Mister Levitt and if he’s a member of the ruling party within the HOA here. It would explain a lot,” Bode whispered, watching de Marco’s pencil move.

“This case is really fucked, isn’t it?” she asked, keeping her voice soft.

“That’s putting it lightly. I knew there was a lot that I didn’t like about Levitt, but this? Those bruises. That collar? Those bruises on the neck, they would be explained by the track on the ceiling, wouldn’t they?”

“Oh God, they would, Sir. It’s just like that episode I mentioned. I wonder if that’s where he got the idea?”

“Chief Bode, I found something,” came Tae Min’s voice from the office. Bode nodded for de Marco to follow as he moved through the modest home. He stood behind the owner at looked at the footage on the monitor. “I’m sorry it’s not more clear, but this is the best I could do without being overt. I’ve already gone through the first few hours. There he is,” Tae Min stated, a sadness to his voice as he viewed the last footage of his friend.

The officers watched the young man walk onto the beach, momentarily disappear as he collected something and seemed to be examining it as he walked to the boardwalk. “He could have kept walking, why didn’t he?”

“Fear.” Bode hated Tae Min’s answer, but knew he was right. They scrolled through Sawyer … Seonghwa waiting on the beach until he started to react to something. “Looks like someone called the payphone. I didn’t even know it was still working,” Tae Min admitted.

“We need the call log for that payphone,” Bode said to his fellow, not taking his eyes off the screen. He watched Seonghwa leave the phone and reluctantly head back into the house. “And that’s the last you see of him?”

“I think … so, yes.” Tae Min scrolled through a little more time only to resume normal playback when Marcus pulled into the drive. His body language said everything. Bode could see murder in his walk as he made his way into the house.

“On my card here, is my email. This footage from the last two days and the photos from a year ago, would you send them to me please?”

“Of course.” Tae Min took the card as it was offered. “Anything to keep him from doing this to anyone else. It’ll all be in your inbox by the time you make it back to the office … station. Since seeing them go out last night, anxiety has kept me from sleeping,” he explained while opening up his email in front of the officers. Bode couldn’t help but notice a confirmation email from an airline.

“Planning a trip soon? Sorry, policeman’s habit of picking up information quickly.”

“Oh it’s no problem. My friend Ki and I are headed back to Korea in a couple days. It’s been on the docket for work for months now, but I’ve also been missing home recently. I can put all the information of where I’ll be and how you can reach me in the email? In case you need to reach me for further questions?” Tae Min turned to look Bode in the face. He could see the hope mingled with sadness. Bode hoped to never lose a friend this way.

“If you can’t delay your flight, that would be a great help.”

“I’ll be hitting the ground running as it is … which will both be a help and a hindrance. It’s gonna take a long time to process this,” Tae Min’s voice wavered as he spoke and turned back to the PC to finish the email. He double checked that all the information was there. Bode saw all the bruise photos and … two videos? “I added last nights footage, what of it there was. I haven’t had a chance to watch it myself, but you might be able to see them headed out. Any little bit can help, right?”

“Right. Just one more question before we let you get some rest. Mister Levitt said he only went out to the five mile marker, did you see him out beyond that?”

“Yes. His boat is very quick and he was near the marker when I went out and streaking beyond it. I’d say he easily went out at least ten miles, if not more. That’s how much he enjoyed scaring Seonghwa,” Tae Min explained bitterly as he hit send on the email. Bode cast his eyes at de Marco and shook his head.

“Wonderful. So our divers were looking in the wrong place all night. Gonna hafta ask him about that. Lee Tae Min, thank you for your help and your insights. I hope you and your friend have some good rest and a safe flight. Again, I am very sorry for your loss,” Bode said with a slight bow of his head. Both officers began to move back toward the front door and Tae Min followed.

“So am I, he was a great friend. I’m … I’m going to miss him so much,” Tae Min sighed, his voice shaking once again as he saw the officers out. “I hope the rest of your day is calm, Officers.” Bode gave a nod in response before the door was shut softly.

“He was oddly helpful, wasn’t he?” de Marco inquired as she put her notebook and pencil away.

“He was, but I get feeling that watching a friend become ever more isolated and you suspect abuse as well? You learn how to be helpful when people actually choose to listen. Some people are calm and collected because they need to be. Korean’s are often like that. Now that we’re gone, he’ll likely mourn in private. Those bruises though … how could Clive think that was just makeup?” Bode asked on the way back to the cruiser.

“Boy’s got some ‘splainin’ to do.”

“So does the HOA if that security system turns out to be true. Contact Jones, tell him to start looking for cameras inside the house. They’ll probably be small, so look for the reflection of the lens or appliance outlets out of place. Levitt feels like a crafty S.O.B.,” Bode stated as he sat in the drivers seat of the cruiser. He listened to de Marco relay his instructions as he glanced back at the Lee house. “Hell of a thing to happen,” he said before driving off.

Chapter Text

Darkness.
Claustrophobic darkness.
It was all around him.
Despite being able to move freely, he could barely move at all.
He felt his mouth open to scream, but no sound came out.
A shadow in the dark.
Fear said don’t do it, but his need to be heard had him crying out for help.
Still no sound left him.
More shadows passed by him in the abyss and still, no one heard him crying for help.
He could feel the tears streaming down his cheeks.
Still making no sound, he crumbled to the ground.
He just needed someone.
Just one person to see he was in danger.
That was all.
Please … one light in his dark world.

In an answer to his silent prayer, a small light began to shine.
It nearly blinded him to look at it.
A familiar, kind voice was calling his name.
He breathed a sigh of relief.
He tried to stand only to find resistance.

When he looked down, he paled.
He saw the heavy chains pinning him to the spot.
Locked in place.
The light began to fade as he fought the restraints with all his might.
Sudden hands gripped his throat from the dark.
“Think you can get away from me, you little fuck!?”

Seonghwa startled awake with a yelp. He pushed himself to sit up in the unfamiliar bed, kicking the sheets away to ensure he wasn’t chained. He looked around at the minimalist bedroom in confusion. It was a moment before it all came flooding back to him. The boat, the storm, going overboard, and the rescue. The rescue. Hwa closed his eyes and envisioned it again. His light at the end of the tunnel and the name left his lips. “Tae Min.”

“Seonghwa!?” His name was preceded by hurried footsteps and spoken in a hushed yet fearful tone. He opened his eyes to find his savior; who looked as tired as he felt, pushing into the room. “Oh … you’re awake. Are you?” Tae Min looked him over in the dim lighting hoping to see some detail that told the truth.

“Have I been asleep the whole time?” Seonghwa asked softly, his throat revealing just how bad he had been hurt. He pressed a hand to his neck to help alleviate the pain only to find gauze covering his skin.

“You’ve been up and down the last thirty-six hours. Most of it sleeping, but my guess is you’ve needed it. I did get you to eat something this morning, you were awake but not really present. Kind of … going through the motions, you know?” Tae Min explained as he moved into the room. He sat on the edge of the bed to be level with Seonghwa. “But now that you’re fully awake it seems … it’s time for the big, dumb question. How are you feeling?”

Seonghwa’s mouth guppied, trying to find the right words for how he felt in this moment, but nothing immediately came to him. “Um … I don’t know yet. A nightmare woke me. I’m a little weird from that. Not to mention--” He paused and brought tender fingers to the gauze around his neck once more. “Not to mention everything else.”

He could feel Tae Min’s eyes watching him and brought his hand down as his knees came up to his chest. Seonghwa hid behind them as the moment of the nightmare drifted through his mind. After a minute Tae Min felt the need to break the silence. “The salt water did a number on that,” he started, gesturing at his own neck. “I got you cleaned as best I could, but I’m guessing you’ll need a proper shower soon.”

Seonghwa nodded and ran his fingers over the gauze. The pain furrowed his brow as he did so. “How bad did it look?” Tae Min looked away, afraid to answer. “That bad?”

“That bad. I know how you liked to sing. I think that’s the worst scar of the lot,” Tae Min explained in a soft tone. Seonghwa closed his eyes as he felt fresh tears well in them. They sat in silence for a while. The only sound being Seonghwa’s soft cries as he came to terms with the permanent scar to his voice.

“Hopefully it’s the last reminder of him I have to bear,” Seonghwa croaked out when his tears slowed. He hugged his knees closer, trying to appear small.

“I do have some good news. He was arrested that day,” Tae Min said when Seonghwa looked up at him. He watched his friend’s face go through a number of emotions before finally sticking with shock. “Yeah. I don’t know exactly what the officers found in the house, but they had enough to charge him with assault. They want to charge him with your murder.”

Shock. Fear. Amazement. Excitement. Disbelief. Seonghwa passed through every emotion twice before landing back on disbelief as he looked to his gauze covered hands. “It worked? It … worked? Really? It worked?” he whispered, looking up from his hands to Tae Min; who smiled softly at him.

“It worked. They found blood evidence in the house and refused to go into detail about other things they found, but the full report will be coming soon. It worked, Seonghwa. I’m so proud of you,” Tae Min stated with a grin that turned to confusion with the way his friend looked at him now.

“Proud? How? How … how can you be proud of me? I should have left him sooner. I shouldn’t have said yes! How can you be proud of me!?”

“Seonghwa--” Tae Min scooted a little closer to place a gentle hand on his knee. “I am proud that you survived him. You lived through a monster. You lived through everything he did to you. One hundred percent of your bad days. I am proud that he is rightly going to face jail time for what he’s done to you. Most of all, I am proud that you’re still here. That you get to bring your life and light to the world once again. Seonghwa, who couldn’t be proud of the strength it took to learn to swim? To make a plan and survive the dregs of a hurricane? To set him up and escape with your life? That’s what I’m proud of, my friend. Your tenacity to live beyond that monster.”

Another mix of emotions fought for dominance across Seonghwa’s face. Love, desperation, disgust, self-hate, sadness, curiosity, back to love, before finally settling on sheer exhaustion. The flood gates opened as he began to sob. The moment pulled at Tae Min’s lips, fighting to make him frown. Seeing this young man with star quality in his name brought to such a low point pierced his heart with sadness. After a moment of crying into his knees, Seonghwa moved to wrap himself around Tae Min; who was momentarily taken aback by the action. He involuntarily shrunk from the arms when they were first wrapped around him, but Seonghwa stayed there in the safety of his friend.

They stayed that way for some time while Seonghwa sobbed and Tae Min rocked him to and fro. He didn’t pull away when the crying slowed, or even when it stopped. He was waiting for his friend to make the first move. “Thank you … thank you,” came Seonghwa’s slightly hoarse voice a moment later.

“Cheonman-eyo,” Tae Min replied innocently; which he immediately wondered if he had said something wrong the way his friend shivered in his arms.

“That … that was the first rule I learned,” Seonghwa whispered as he pulled loose of Tae Min. He was looking off into nothing before returning his gaze to his friend. “He hated how Korean sounded. Budget Japanese he said. He refused to let me speak my native language in the house. Even little things like aya when I was hurt. I couldn’t say it unless I was alone … and with him watching me, I was never truly alone,” he explained while looking at Tae Min. His expression was like it was the first time he had truly thought about how restricted his life under Marcus was.

“Would you like to continue more comfortably then?” Tae Min asked in their native tongue and was pleased to see a bit of brightness return to his friend.

“I would like that very much,” Seonghwa answered back in kind. His eyes drifted to the door behind Tae Min, like he was somehow expecting Marcus to spontaneously show up and punish him. “Could we … would it be possible to cut my hair also?” he asked, his voice soft and shaky as the language came back to him. A small smile played on his face as he continued with the much more natural language.

“Of course we can. Now or maybe when you feel a bit more rested?”

“Now, please. He liked having something to hold on to and the length is just … one more reminder of him. I hate it. I don’t want this anymore,” Seonghwa admitted, tucking some of that shoulder length hair behind his ear.

“How short?” Tae Min inquired as he shifted off the bed and held his hand out for him to take. Which Seonghwa did after staring at it a few seconds like it was going to bite him.

He was quiet a moment as he used Tae Min to help himself up from the bed before speaking his request. “Shaved on the sides, shaved short in the back but not buzzed, and a little length on top. Okay?”

Tae Min’s heart sank at the simple little question. Like Seonghwa was expecting him to go back on his word. He licked his lips into a smile and nodded. “It sounds perfect. Will it be okay if I leave it just a little bit longer. Just a bit, in case we dye your hair?” Seonghwa’s brow furrowed at the thought of dying his hair, but he nodded all the same. “Awesome,” Tae Min said as he led the pair to the bathroom and motioned for Seonghwa to sit on the toilet while he went in search of the Wahl. He sat there in a contemplative silence while Tae Min drifted behind a half-wall. Seonghwa watched the spot and waited, not realizing that he was pressing the thumb of one hand into the wounded palm of the other. That is, until the pain shot up his arm and he gasped.

“Hwa?” Tae Min popped up and around the wall with the case he was searching for in hand, just in time to see his friend trying to cover up his hand. He gave a sad little sigh as he set the case on the lip of the sink before he knelt in front of his fellow Korean. He kept his distance, not wanting to crowd even though he was nowhere near Marcus’ size. “Seonghwa, you don’t have to tell me anything he did to you, but if you choose to, know that I am here for you and that I am going to listen. I won’t press, you can come to me in your own time. I just want you to know I am here for you when you need me, okay?”

There was a kind of relief on Seonghwa’s face, but it was mixed with embarrassment. He nodded all the same, but it was clear he was ashamed. “Thank you,” was all he said for now as he sat up a little more straight for Tae Min. Who nodded his own understanding before pushing himself back up. He was quick to unpack the clippers, then reached under the sink to find the spray bottle he used for his own hair. When he popped back up, Seonghwa was facing the wall.

“Hey, you okay?”

“I thought it would be easier for you. You’ll be working mostly on the back and sides, it would be difficult to move around the toilet for that,” Seonghwa grinned; which Tae Min returned, overjoyed at the fact that some happiness adorned his friends face. The grin had long been lost to the world and to see it, even small as it was, was a comfort.

“As long as you’re comfortable,” he said, plugging the clippers into the outlet.

“I know I don’t look it or sound it yet, but … this is the most comfortable I’ve been in … such a long time,” Seonghwa sighed with a little smile on his lips. He glanced over his shoulder to reassure his friend with a slight nod before straightening his back once more.

“Promise to let me know when you need a break, okay?” Tae Min asked as he picked up a comb and the spray bottle. Seonghwa nodded slightly and closed his eyes. With his eyes closed, he thought the illusion might shatter and Marcus would rip his head back but no such action came. His friend was incredibly gentle with him. Spraying his hair before lightly running the comb through it and repeating the process over and over until his hair was saturated enough for cutting. Tae Min started with the scissors first, trimming off as much of the length as possible. Seonghwa flinched only a few times during the process, forcing the growing anxiety into his stomach. He was otherwise incredibly still the whole time.

When he was satisfied with the trim, Tae Min picked up the Wahl and clicked the four guard into place. As he approached Seonghwa, he rested a hand on his shoulder. “I’m going to move your head as gently as I can, okay?” A nod was his answer and he began the process of the requested cut. Tae Min paused at every wince and waited until Seonghwa’s shoulders relaxed again before continuing. He wet the hair as needed, switched blade covers often to get the cut just right, and was true to his word; being as gentle as possible during the process. He set the Wahl on the counter and grabbed a towel to wipe the stray hairs from his friend’s shoulders.

“Okay, we’re … done,” Tae Min began as he draped the fluffy, warm towel around his shoulders and knelt at Seonghwa’s side. “Hey. I know what we’re doing right now must be going against everything you’ve known for the last few years. I need you to do me a favor though, okay?” he inquired, looking up at his fellow Korean. Seonghwa opened his eyes and furrowed his brow as he looked down. “I need you to stop hurting yourself, please?”

“Wha--” The furrow of his brow deepened as Tae Min nodded to his lap. Seonghwa looked down and found his thumb once again pressing into the palm of his other hand hard enough that a small pool of blood had formed around it. He gave a sharp gasp as he pulled his thumb away and grimaced at the pain that followed. “I’m sorry, Tae Min.”

“There’s no need to apologize. Ah, no there isn’t,” he reinforced when he saw Seonghwa preparing a rebuttal. “You’ve only just started the difficult and long road of recovery from years of … what I can only assume was some pretty intense abuse. It’s not going to be an easy journey. You are going to have lots of little moments like this. You do not need to apologize for your trauma. It will rear its ugly head when you least expect it and the only thing you can do is make it to the other side of that feeling,” Tae Min explained in an even tone that didn’t sound like being berated as he had expected to be. Seonghwa breathed a shaky sigh of thanks as a tender hand was placed on his shoulder. “Would you like to see this trim now, because I think it looks great.”

Seonghwa let Tae Min’s word wash over him and felt relief set in. He was being seen unlike those shadows in his nightmare. The ones that refused to hear his cries for help. It was as if the coffin he had been locked in was finally opened. Relief that the light let in was help and not fire. “I would love to see it,” he finally said after a moment. Tae Min helped him up from the toilet as he cradled the pool of blood in his palm and moved toward the mirror. Seonghwa stopped dead at the sight of himself.

Dark brown eyes searched the figure in the mirror and the haircut felt more like him than anything he had been forced to keep in the last few years. Silent tears found their way down his cheeks and a gasping smile broke his face open as he tried not to sob at the sight of himself.

“Do you like it?” Tae Min asked softly, breaking the silence of the moment.

“It … it’s perfect. Thank you, thank you so much.” The smile on Seonghwa’s face was so genuine and happy that it nearly broke Tae Min’s heart. He wanted so bad to hug his friend, but instead simply rested a hand on his shoulder. A few quiet sobs found their way to the surface as Seonghwa couldn’t take his eyes off his reflection. The moment was only broken by the ringing of a far off cell phone.

“Dammit, okay,” Tae Min cursed, pulling his hand from Seonghwa’s shoulder to wipe tears from his own face. “I’ll go answer that, if you want to wash your hands, there’s more medical supplies in this top drawer. I’ll be right back,” Tae Min explained, softly patting Seonghwa’s shoulder as he went by.

When he was finally alone, Seonghwa collapsed to his knees. His hands clasped together at the counter between his head and the marble. More silent tears found their way down his face as he prayed, thankful to whomever had thought to help him in his escape. He would never forget this and never think twice when it came to his safety ever again. Their help was the only reason Tae Min was nearby this whole time. He would be forever grateful to the invisible hands that helped him find his freedom.

He finished his prayer with a breathy sigh and whispered his thanks to the room. Seonghwa pulled himself back up to stand on shaky legs and moved to clean his hands of blood. He allowed the water to run while he removed the old gauze. He hissed as the thin fabric tried to stick to the wounds. Blinding white pain shot up his arm as the more wounded left hand met the air. Seonghwa froze, taking sharp, pained breaths as he acclimatized to the pain, almost thankful for it. Pain; he had found, was an excellent indicator of whether one was in a dream or not.

The warm water made the pain worse as he finally ran his air stung hands under the flow. Soap added a new sting as he began to wash the old and new blood away. As the water washed everything away, he noted how his palms looked. Crescent moons that matched his fingernails were marred his palms twice over. The pain in that moment was worth it as he grabbed a towel to pat his hands dry. Seonghwa would have to ask what it was like to see Marcus get arrested when Tae Min walked back into the bathroom.

“Good call?”

“Um … hard to tell so far,” Tae Min started, unable to take his eyes off his friend. “Seonghwa … your parents are on the phone. Do … do you feel up to talking to them?”

Chapter Text

The ringing grew louder as Tae Min worked quick to find his cell where he left it. At least, he was going to see whom was calling and at most, would have let it go to voicemail. He didn’t like the thought of leaving Seonghwa alone for too long now that he was awake, but time seemed to still as he read the number calling. The Park’s. He cursed quietly and held the phone as the screen dimmed. He had no idea how to broach the subject and wasn’t given any time to think as the number called again. Tae Min steeled himself and slid his thumb across the screen to answer.

“Lee Tae Min … please. Please tell us it isn’t true?” Came a voice before he could even get out the greeting now caught in his throat. The anguish he heard in Mister Park’s voice and the soft crying in the background told him that both of Seonghwa’s parents were there, listening and waiting for an answer. “Is our son … is Seonghwa really dead?”

“When did the police notify you?” Tae Min inquired, keeping his voice surprisingly even as he glanced back at the bathroom while an idea formed.

“We’ve been camping for the last week with poor service, they had to leave a poorly translated message. Please, Tae Min--” Hard sniffles interrupted Mister Park and Tae Min heard the phone change hands.

“Tell us if our star is really dead. The message did not say for sure, but living near him, you might know more. Please, it’s agony not knowing,” came Misses Park’s voice equally as raw as her husband’s. The idea solidified in Tae Min’s mind as he looked back at the bathroom one more time.

“I need a moment to compose myself, would you mind waiting while I collect my thoughts?”

“A moment? Why can you not simply tell us? We are only asking you to tell us about the welfare of our star!?”

“I know and I apologize profusely. I was the last to see him and the grief is still very near for me as well. I promise, I just need a moment to collect myself and everything will be explained,” Tae Min pleaded, his voice breaking nicely to help the effect. If the Park’s wanted information on their son, it seemed only right to give it to them from the source. He only had to make sure that Seonghwa was in the right headspace to speak with them. He waited while the Park’s whispered and cried to each other.

“Collect yourself,” Mister Park said in a stern, unhappy tone. Tae Min whispered a thank you in return before setting his phone down to run to the bathroom. He approach the threshold just in time to see his friend reaching into the drawer of medical supplies.

“Good call?” Seonghwa inquired, glancing at Tae Min and not really seeing him.

“Um … hard to tell so far,” Tae Min started, unable to take his eyes off his friend. “Seonghwa … your parents are on the phone. Do … do you feel up to talking to them?” He watched the young man become still as a statue at the question. One hand only just holding him up as the weight of the question hit him. Tae Min saw the thought run through his mind as he shook with a myriad of emotions.

“They … they called you?”

“The police notified your next of kin. They know I live nearby so they’re calling me for answers, but I know what would really help them and you. I know they’d love to hear your voice, Seonghwa. So, would you like to talk to them?” Tae Min posed the question once again and watched the wheels turn.

“I mean … desperately. I haven’t spoken to them in … so long. Almost our whole marriage. But … how? How do I explain--” The question furrowed his brow as he waved scarred arms in front of himself. “How do I even begin to explain…?”

“You start with, ‘Hello, I’m alive,’ and then you go from there,” Tae Min smiled, causing Seonghwa to cough a laugh as he moved to almost rustling his newly cut hair with a hand but stopped himself.

“Um … I don’t want to get blood on your phone.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll put the call on speaker and I’ll wrap your hands while you talk, come on,” Tae Min exclaimed, nodding Seonghwa toward the door while he moved in to grab everything he would need from the drawer he stood in front of. Seonghwa was hesitant for a few seconds before he stood out of Tae Min’s way. “I’ll be right by your side the whole time, don’t you worry.” He gave Seonghwa a kind smile and led the way back toward his phone. Tae Min helped his friend sit on the sofa before setting the medical gear in his arms down.

“Mister and Misses Park?” Tae Min asked as he quickly set the phone to speaker mode and set it on the table in front of Seonghwa.

“Please, Tae Min, we cannot take it any longer, what information do you have on our son?” came Misses Park’s voice as Seonghwa stared at the mobile. He looked unsure about it all of a sudden, but Tae Min gave him a reassuring smile and mouthed the words, ‘Go on,’ to the young man. Seonghwa turned back to the phone and gasped hard, not realizing he had been holding his breath. “… Tae Min?”

“No, eomma … that was me,” Seonghwa sniffled; which turned into a giggle when the phone clattered to the floor down the line. He gave a grateful look to Tae Min as he waited for the phone to be collected and gave his hand when it was motioned for. It was nearly a minute of quiet sobbing before the sound of rustling told them someone had picked the phone back up.

“Seonghwa?” Fresh tears found their way down Seonghwa’s cheeks as he heard his father’s voice.

“Hello dad. I … I’m sorry to have scared you both, but -sniffs- I’m alive,” he admitted with a lump in his throat that Tae Min could hear as he gently began to wrap the hand in his. He did his best to ignore the hesitation marks on the wrist as he covered them.

“Oh Seonghwa, why did you never call us? We’ve missed you, we’ve missed speaking with our star so much, what happened?” Tae Min watched as the question hit Seonghwa like a sledgehammer. He gave his friend a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

“I wanted to. So badly, I wanted to, but I couldn’t. It didn’t matter how much I missed you and wanted to hear your voices, I could not call you. Marcus took my phone when I tried to call home on mom’s birthday … just after the wedding. I watched him destroy my phone and I knew he monitored the landline. I wanted to call you both … so badly … so many times. And…,” Seonghwa paused and cast apologetic eyes toward Tae Min as he continued. “I knew he had cameras watching the payphone on the beach. He couldn’t monitor the call itself, but he would have seen that I had reached out. He would have known … and I didn’t want him to hurt anyone for reaching out. I am so sorry,” Seonghwa apologized as he turned back to the phone. Tae Min knew that last part was for him as much as his parents. His eyes drifted to the neck he had delicately wrapped the night before and his head snapped up in realization. Seonghwa gave him another apologetic look. Tae Min wouldn’t ask the question now, but he would ask it.

“Oh no. Oh, our star. Seonghwa, he hurt you?”

Seonghwa was quiet for a long moment before he finally spoke with a soft, sad, “… yes. In … every way you could think. Physically, mentally, emotionally,” he explained, hugging one arm around himself while Tae Min finished wrapping his hand. “But I made a plan, right under his nose. I wasn’t going to die to him as someone I wasn’t. I followed through. I feel so free now, at least in one way and now he might be wanted for my murder,” he finished, sounding proud as he spoke. Proud for the first time in a long time.

“Can they charge him with that?” The question from his mother brought an upset face out of Seonghwa.

“I’m not certain. Probably not since they can’t find a body, but I think … I think an assault charge will stick. They probably found the cameras and he was so busy being himself that I doubt he had time to back up and erase the videos. He liked to keep … sessions together,” he explained in a soft, sad tone. They both heard a few hushed words exchanged between the Park’s as they dissected the riddle of Seonghwa’s words. Tae Min held the newly wrapped hand in his as he looked at his friend. Hearing the way he spoke about his abuse turned his stomach and made his heart break.

“Seonghwa … I am so sorry, my son,” Mister Park said as they heard the phone jostle. Tae Min assumed the coupled hugged as Seonghwa leaned into him.

“I’m sorry too. I wish I had left sooner … before he made it almost impossible. I was going to ask Tae Min how he got arrested later, but now, where we all can hear it…?” Seonghwa started, glancing at him; who was wearing an almost mischievous smile.

“I made a call to the cops shortly after his boat pulled out. I even tried to call him directly in case the cops needed my phone records. I explained that a boat had left the docks with the storm moving in. I know he can sail, but not through a hurricane. So with the storm about to make landfall, I also knew that the police would be swamped. I’m just glad I was able to find you before he did,” Tae Min explained, hardly taking his eyes off Seonghwa.

“You had your own plan to help?” If he didn’t have an idea what Seonghwa had been through, the note of surprise would have wounded Tae Min.

“I did. I had to make sure he wouldn’t get away with what he did to you. Rescue teams showed up shortly after I got you inside. They stayed well into the next day. Even popped over here for a short time to follow up on my call. I gave them a minute history of things I had seen, things I had tried to prevent. I even helped to get a police officer suspended pending a hearing. It turns out that he and Marcus are very close friends and any fuss I made about him was erased. Evil people like him should get exactly what they deserve,” Tae Min finished with a nod. He could see Seonghwa looking at him in a new light as silent tears slipped down his cheeks.

“Well done, Lee Tae Min. Thank you, so much for helping save our son,” Seonghwa’s mother sniffled as quieted sobs walked away from the phone for a moment. “Now, how can we help on our end?” The question caused Seonghwa to look at Tae Min with a curious face.

“I already have flights booked for us to come home, but we haven’t really been able to discuss the next steps just yet. I think we both might need some proper sleep before we do that though,” Tae Min explained as his own brand of exhaustion was creeping up on him.

“Well, when you’ve had some sleep and some time to talk, send us your information and we’ll send you some money to help with the expenses. We’ve miss you, our star. We’ve missed you so much,” she said with a small sob. The exclamation of love pulled a sudden sob from Seonghwa and he covered his face with both hands to hide.

“I have … missed you both with my whole being. I just--” A few more sobs stopped him from speaking as Tae Min carefully pulled him in close to comfort him. “I just want to be home again,” he admitted softly.

“Soon, our star, soon. You two … get some sleep and we’ll talk again soon. We love you, Seonghwa.”

“I love you too, eomma,” he managed to get out before sleep laid claim to his exhausted mind.

“Talk to you soon, Misses Park,” Tae Min stated as he leaned back to create the perfect cradle for Seonghwa as the Park’s reluctantly hung up. He adjusted and got comfortable under his friend’s admittedly thin frame. “No one is going to hurt you ever again, Seonghwa,” Tae Min whispered as sleep took him as well.

Chapter Text

A soft moan escaped Seonghwa as he stirred from his sleep. He hugged whatever his arms were around and heard a groan from nearby. Huffing a heavy sigh, he worried about having woken Marcus. Although … the thought felt wrong as it crossed his mind. He opened one bleary eye and was met with the dark of night in unfamiliar surroundings. Another groan and he felt movement under him. Seonghwa sprung up onto his hands, arm straddling either side of the figure beneath him. Marcus? No, he blinked twice as sleep gave way to full consciousness and the lie lapsed into truth. He saw Tae Min materialize into being as his face fought between happiness and confusion. A smile took his lips while his brow furrowed as he tried to recall the day. He spied Tae Min’s cellphone on the coffee table and the reality of speaking to his parents for the first time in five years hit him all over again.

Quiet sobs echoed in the open living room as he settled back atop Tae Min for a moment and felt gentle arms wrap around him. Seonghwa sighed soft in the pleasantness of it all. It had been so long since he’d felt comfortable in the arms of anyone. His mind drifted back to sleep for a few seconds but the lifetime of a nightmare sprouted and he startled atop Tae Min. Pushing himself out of those comforting arms, Seonghwa stood. He looked down at his friend who was still himself now that he was awake once more.

The threat of hyperventilating loomed a few moments before his practiced ways of dodging it kicked in. “Okay. I’m okay,” he whispered and repeated in English until he remembered that this was not Marcus’ house. He could speak his own tongue here. “So many things to unlearn,” he whispered again, slipping back into Korean. Seonghwa rubbed his brow and winced. Glancing at his hands, he saw the dried blood on the gauze. A groan escaped his throat. In his short life, he had cleaned so much of his own blood that the tediousness of it suddenly hit him. Just a few more times and then hopefully he’d never have to do this ever again. Seonghwa almost moved toward the bathroom without the extra gauze and antiseptic ointment that they had used during the call. He quickly gathered the kit as a sudden need for the restroom hit.

Seonghwa was quick about his business before removing the gauze once he was done. Fully flexing his hand was painful, but at least they were beginning to itch. “The first stage of healing,” he whispered to the empty room as he gently rubbed the thumb of the opposite hand into each palm. The only comfortable way to scratch the itch and not cause more damage. Seonghwa watched the dried blood flake away when his stomach suddenly flipped. A wave of nausea caused him to cough into the sink, but nothing came up. The lights were too bright and his heartbeat was so loud in his ears that Hwa was certain he’d go deaf. Seonghwa just managed to hold himself standing by gripping the edge of the marble countertop.

After a few minutes, the feeling passed and Seonghwa felt normal again. He took a shuddering breath as he steadied himself to his full height. Tae Min said he had eaten something yesterday, but before that, Seonghwa couldn’t recall the last thing he ate. Breakfast on the day of the beach walk maybe? His memory of the last few days was hazy. He assumed it to be the collective trauma of his marriage messing with his memory. Another steadying breath filled the room as he glanced at his reflection while he finally made to wash the blood from his hands.

He hardly recognized himself. Not just because of the drastic cutting of his hair, but the bruises and set of scars under the scrunched gauze around his throat. His breath shuddered again as tender hands lifted and pulled the stained cloth away. The room went quiet as he revealed the mess to himself. Dark, ugly bruises in the exact shape of Marcus’ hands just barely hid the ever present marks of the collar. Seonghwa couldn’t breathe as he stared. His breath kept catching in his chest, as if those hands were actually around his throat in the moment. Somewhere in the dark of the bathroom, a voice.

I’m not that easy to get rid of, slut. Seonghwa whipped around to the darkened areas and saw nothing. He just heard the quiet remnants of that cruel laugh from somewhere he couldn’t see. A presence made itself known behind him and his breath stilled and he closed his eyes, forcing tears down his cheeks in despair.

“Seonghwa, are you okay?” came Tae Min’s sleepy, concerned voice. He released the breath he was holding and spun to see his friend. Tears of relief flooded his eyes and the release of tension allowed Seonghwa to collapse to the floor. Tae Min quickly rushed to his side but refrained from putting his hands on him. “Are you okay?”

“I’m … I’m fine. My mind is just … being cruel, that’s all,” Seonghwa explained through the hands over his face. “I’ll be fine. I will, just like you said. I have a long healing journey ahead of me. But … how am I supposed to heal my voice? How do I heal through this?” He gestured to his throat as sobs broke his voice. “This will be with me … the rest of my life. How…? How am I supposed to heal something that will never leave me?”

Words failed Tae Min as he stared at Seonghwa. He had no good answers for his friend as he continued to cry. After a few minutes, Tae Min shifted to grab one of the paper cups and filled it with tap water. Once Seonghwa had calmed enough, he held the cup out for him to take. Seonghwa momentarily looked at the cup like it might bite him, but after a moment, he took it and drank as if he hadn’t tasted water before.

“Thank you,” he sighed, holding the cup in both hands and wishing it was full again. “I’m sorry,” Seonghwa murmured, his voice quiet and small.

“Please, don’t worry about that, Seonghwa. You’re on a path I’ve never had to walk, I pray to never have to walk. Neither of us know exactly how this is going to go, but just know that I will walk beside you all the same. You know I’ll help as I can, even if it’s just to be here while you cry,” Tae Min smiled as he moved to rest a hand on Seonghwa’s knee. The hand being rest atop his surprised him, but his smile broadened at his friend.

“Should we eat? I feel like it’s probably been a while for us both,” Seonghwa sniffled as he wiped his cheeks of his tears.

“We probably should, but let’s get some fresh gauze on you first.” Tae Min stood and offered a hand to help him up; which Seonghwa took after a few seconds. Having someone around that actually wanted to help him was going to take some getting used to. He gave a nod at the suggestion and poured himself another cup of water before sitting on the toilet once again.

He felt Tae Min’s eyes on him from time to time as the other prepared the gauze for him. There was a question he wasn’t asking, but wanted to and Seonghwa had a vague idea what it was. “This wasn’t your fault. I knew he would react. I didn’t warn you because I didn’t want you to back out,” he explained, his voice hoarse from crying. Tae Min stilled over the medical kit a second before continuing.

“You’re right, I would’ve backed out, but only to find a different way to get you out of there.”

“There wasn’t another way. It was this way or a body bag and I didn’t want it to be that. I--I’m sorry, Tae Min.”

“No, I’m sorry, Seonghwa. I let you rot in that house an extra year because of the plan. I should have gone to the police sooner, spoken to the Chief then. You wouldn’t have needed to nearly kill yourself just to escape him,” Tae Min explained as he ran a washcloth under warm water and began to rub soap into the fabric. “But, you’re here now and all that matters is that you’re away from him. I apologize in advance if this stings,” he added, squeezing the excess water out of the towel.

Seonghwa watched Tae Min come closer and prepared for whatever small pain might be coming. He hissed in through his nose as the cloth touched the tender skin of his neck. A mumbled apology came as Tae Min patted the skin. “Can you tilt your head to the right, please?” Seonghwa did as asked, wincing slightly as he stretched the wounds a bit. “There we go, I just don’t want to miss anything,” Tae Min explained as he dabbed the cloth into the bruise darken flesh. He could make out each of Marcus’ fingers and huffed angrily through his nose.

Keeping his eyes down as he had been taught, Seonghwa sniffled a bit. He knew this needed to be done, but he was so used to taking care of his own wounds that it was beginning to well embarrassment in his gut. Tae Min was careful though. Any time he winced in pain, Tae Min would pause, allow him to calm, and then keep moving. Seonghwa pouted the whole time, knowing there must be burning questions. Tae Min returned with a freshened cloth and finally asked, “How does it feel now?”

“That’s all you want to ask?” Seonghwa replied after a long quiet minute. Tae Min’s brow furrowed at the response as he looked down at the partially healed grooves in his friends neck before returning to his duty.

“You’ll tell me in time, Seonghwa. I told you I wouldn’t push it and I meant that. I’m not Marcus,” he added with a soft bite to his voice. With a wince, Seonghwa shrank slightly. He knew that of course, but five years … it was so much to begin unlearning.

“I’m sorry, it feels about how you’d expect. It hurts, it always did. From day one,” he stated, finally answering the question.

“I have some numbing cream if that would help?”

“Thank you, but … the pain isn’t in my neck, it’s in my head.” Tae Min pouted hard at the comment and rested his fingers in Seonghwa’s hair a moment before moving back to the medical kit for the antiseptic and gauze. Dark eyes followed him as the young man watched him. He gave his friend a reassuring smile and Seonghwa gave a weak one in return. He was still processing everything and suddenly remembered a question he had wanted to ask. “What was it like watching him get arrested?”

“Ha~! Oh, it was … it was perfect,” Tae Min began as he moved back and began to wrap Seonghwa’s neck lightly. “I knew they were speaking to him outside, they couldn’t let him back in the house so he couldn’t contaminate the scene. When they started to read him his rights, my neighbor and a couple from the other side all went out to see what the commotion was. So, he’s kind of fighting the police while shouting about how he didn’t do anything to you. I remember hearing Marcus say what about the gook next door, did you check his place, you know they always stick together. The general racist bullshit. He got extra nasty with words after that and was basically raving about how he couldn’t have done anything to you.” Tae Min paused when he got to tying off the gauze around Seonghwa’s throat. “It was terrifying to see a shade of his real self. I can’t imagine what you went through,” he added in a contemplative tone.

“He wasn’t like that when I met him. He had to lie to get someone to love him … to care. Why keep it up for so long if he didn’t really love me? Why fake it?” Seonghwa asked as a single tear ran down his cheek.

“I can only assume that it was a way to draw you in. Keep you close, make you dependent on him. Cruel, simply to be cruel,” Tae Min tried to explain, hoping he had done it well enough as he grabbed the last of the gauze for Seonghwa’s hands. He wrapped both as they sat for the time in contemplative silence. Tae Min apologized when he caused Seonghwa to wince. “Those are going to make doing a lot painful. In the kitchen in the cabinet to the left of the stove, you’ll find some medicine. I’ll join you in a few. I just have to use the facilities,” he added when Seonghwa pulled a questioning face.

“Oh! Oh of course.” Seonghwa was quick to move up from his place on the toilet. “I’ll see about getting something started for us as well,” he mused, downing the last of the water in his cup as he left Tae Min to his business. The sound of bare feet padded through the house slowly as Seonghwa found his way to the kitchen. The house was minimalist in a lot of its style, but when there was a place for extravagance, it was tasteful. It brought his mind to the granite wall in the house next door. His heart skipped a beat as a second of panic set in. Seonghwa took a deep, calming breath and pushed his way into the kitchen and away from the darker, lingering thoughts.

Seonghwa found the cabinet Tae Min spoke of and the medication there. He only grabbed a couple of pills as he was sadly used to the pain. Upon taking the medication, he sighed and glanced around the room. A wall of windows that faced the beach drew his attention. The sun was just beginning the crest the horizon. He wandered over to the windows, intent on pulling the shade down, but found himself caught in the moment. The hurricane has passed, leaving clear skies in its wake and for the first time in nearly four years, Seonghwa was watching the sun rise. His tongue darted out and drew his bottom lip between his teeth to keep the quiet sob in. The emotions refused to be held in as the sun rose. Soft hiccups filled the kitchen as he watched the second most beautiful sight he’d seen recently.

The growling of his stomach brought him out of the moment and with a little giggle and a wipe of his cheeks, Seonghwa turned back to the kitchen. “Okay, let’s find something to eat,” he muttered to himself as he went looking for food. He had to peek in a few cabinets before finding the pantry. Ramyun greeted him and brought a smile to his face. “Perfect,” he found himself saying as he grabbed two before closing the door.

A natural in the kitchen, Seonghwa found the setup far more intuitive than that of the prison next door. He easily found a pot for water and quickly set about getting the ramyun for himself and Tae Min. The smell of the spice packet drew another grumble from his stomach. He would need to be careful eating, otherwise it all might come back up. In another pot he got a soft boil going on a couple eggs when he heard foot steps joining him. He glanced over to see Tae Min, changed and wet.

“Sorry for making you wait, but I needed that shower. It smells delicious in here. Is that the buldak?” Tae Min inquired as he moved to the coffee machine behind Seonghwa.

“I think so. I didn’t actually look at the packaging, I just grabbed the first thing that got my attention. I hope that’s okay?”

“Of course, buldak is one of my favorites. Do you want some cheese to go with it?”

Seonghwa considered the question, trying to decipher if he was being asked his opinion or told what to do. His brain reminded him that Tae Min was not Marcus and he sighed. “I would love some actually.” He heard the coffee begin to percolate as Tae Min moved to grab both the cheese and a pair of bowls for their morning feast. Seonghwa turned off the stove and made to lift the pot of noodles when he hissed. The weight and heat of the pot went through the bandage on his hand. “Ow,” he exclaimed in a small voice, almost trying to keep it from Tae Min.

“Why don’t you let me plate this and you sit down?” Seonghwa knew a wide range of emotions crossed his face by Tae Min’s eyes as they took all of him in. “You’re okay, Seonghwa. No one is going to be mad at you here. It’s time someone took care of you for a change,” Tae Min offered with a kind smile.

“Okay, that sounds good,” he muttered softly, skirting passed Tae Min on his way to the bar just on the other side of the cook top. By the time he sat down on the nearest stool, Tae Min was mixing the noodles with the spice and sauce packets. He added a little water to one bowl which pulled a curious face from Seonghwa.

“Just in case you can’t handle all the noodles. At least you can have some of the soup,” Tae Min explained with a smile, which was returned in kind. A blossom of hope filled Seonghwa at the kindness that in reality was just common courtesy. He watched as the cheese and freshly peeled eggs were added to the bowls and then cut down the middle. “Wow, these eggs are perfect. Literally the best soft boil I’ve seen outside of a restaurant.” The praise brought another soft smile to his face.

“When I have the chance, I’m actually a pretty good cook. I think … I think even he liked it,” Seonghwa mused as the bowl was brought to him.

“He wouldn’t let you make a lot from home, would he?” Tae Min inquired as he sat on the stool next to him.

“Got it in one,” Seonghwa huffed, plucking the chopsticks up to mix the cheese into the noodles as it melted. “He said I could on my birthday. It was an annual tradition of his to spend increasing time in the week leading up to it just having something to say about it. Making me feel bad for wanting to cook something I enjoyed and that it would likely be terrible anyway. So I would end up not making anything. Just something he would enjoy,” he frowned, looking at the bowl of noodles like he should be ashamed of them.

“He’s not here to stop you now. All you need to do is take your time, but you do need to eat, Seonghwa,” Tae Min explained in a soft, encouraging tone and giving his friend a smile when those tired eyes turned up to him. Seonghwa gave a small smile in return and picked up a few noodles with the chopsticks. He knew Tae Min was watching him, making sure he was safe and taking care of himself. The comfort of that made him smile.

They ate in silence for some time. Seonghwa only managing about half the noodles and half the egg before stopping short of his guts revolting from the general lack of food. He gave a pleasant sigh at the fullness he felt and leaned against the counter as he watched Tae Min. Their eyes met for a brief second before Tae Min looked away. “You can ask a question if you want,” he pointed out, sitting back up and placing his hands in his lap.

Chopsticks hovered over a nearly empty bowl before Tae Min sighed. “Are you sure it couldn’t have been prevented? Was it really necessary that he be allowed to hurt you like that?”

“Yes, to both. The only way it would’ve been prevented is if I didn’t answer your call, but you needed to know I found what you left me.” Seonghwa watched a frown deepen his friend’s face. “Please, don’t blame yourself. Did I know he would leave such marks? No, but I knew he would retaliate and for my half of the plan to work, I needed him to retaliate,” Seonghwa explained, reaching a careful hand out to Tae Min’s knee. “This wasn’t your fault.”

Tae Min looked at the hand on his knee before raising his eyes to Seonghwa’s. It felt like looking for the lie, but when none was found, he stood and entered the younger man’s personal bubble. With his arms slightly open and a question on his face, Tae Min waited. A small smile broke across Seonghwa’s face and he nodded, opening his own arms and accepting the hug. Tae Min cradled Seonghwa in his arms, head against his chest as he began to hum an old Korean folksong. The sun warming the kitchen and the soft vibrations of Tae Min’s hum, lulled Seonghwa to sleep.

- + - + -

Seonghwa snapped quickly out of sleep with a sniff and a groan as he rubbed at his eyes. He heard a voice somewhere behind him as he sat up, the blanket that had been covering him sliding to the floor of the living room. His mouth opened to question when he heard the voice mumble something else before saying goodbye.

“You’re awake, good. I was just calling the travel agent, we’ll be able to leave in a couple days.”

“What?” His brow furrowed at the information before his memory caught up with him. “Oh, okay. You sure? Aren’t the police looking for my body?”

“Mmhmm, do you still have a passport?” The line of questioning confused the barely awake Seonghwa as he roughed a hand through his mercifully short hair.

“I do, I was safe with that. I know where we can pick it up, but why are you asking?”

“Because it will still say Park Seonghwa and your hair is already cut. I say we dye it and I have some colored lenses you could wear. The police are primarily looking for Sawyer Levitt, a young Korean man with long dark hair. Not to mention that JFK is one of busiest airports in the county. There would be so many people that catching one already presumed dead Korean is hardly top of their to-do list. I think getting you home is actually going to be rather easy,” Tae Min explained as he came around the sofa to sit in a chair across from him. “What do you think?”

“I think,” Seonghwa began roughing his hands over his face to rid himself of the last remnants of sleep. “It’s risky, but so was what I did to get here. So with some tea and being a little more awake, why should the risk stop now?” He gave Tae Min a soft, but triumphant smile. “Can we start putting this together soon?”

“As soon as you want.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Perfect.”

Chapter Text

A gentle nudge pulled him from his slumber and Seonghwa groaned awake. Tae Min smiled with his eyes and pointed out the window. He followed the gaze and pushed up in his seat just in time to watch the clouds break and reveal Seoul in all its glory. Seonghwa gasped as if it was his first time viewing the city. It had been years since he had last set foot in his home country and seeing it from above moved him to quiet tears. He reached a desperate hand out for Tae Min; who offered his own, and held on tight as the moment washed over him.

Seonghwa was home.

Landing and disembarking passed by in a blur that he didn’t recognize they had done them until they were waiting for their luggage. He stayed tight to Tae Min’s side until they had their bags and were heading out to get a taxi. There was a nervous energy to Seonghwa as they waited. Just as they had from the sky, Seoul’s skyscrapers were the most beautiful sight he had seen in a very long time. All he wanted to do was wander the streets, eat the familiar food, and be himself in a familiar space where he hardly stood out. Seeing so many faces that looked like his own brought tears to his eyes once again. He had promised the first thing they would do when they landed was visit his parents, so that’s where they would be heading when the taxi finally pulled up.

Seonghwa glanced at Tae Min and received a smile in return. They were both so glad that their barely thought through rouse from a few days ago had worked. The pastel pink hair, the grey contacts, his given name, and some slightly over sized clothes had surprisingly done the trick. Adrenaline was still buzzing through his veins and he could only imagine that Tae Min was feeling the same. He was trying not to put the worst thoughts out into the universe as the driver exited the vehicle to help put their bags in the trunk.

Tae Min urged him to slide in the taxi before he moved to help the driver. Seonghwa nodded his thanks for getting off the street; despite very much wanting to wander. The sheer nerves of being back home made his stomach taut in anticipation. He took a deep, steadying breath under his mask and tried to calm his nervous tummy. Visions of imagined food filled his mind and Seonghwa wondered if he would even be able to keep any of what his mother had made down. That would be a bridge to cross when they happened upon it, he guessed.

Lost in his own thoughts, Seonghwa started when Tae Min and the driver entered the car around the same time. He let out a breathy giggle when he saw it was just them and settled back into his seat. His mouth formed the words with Tae Min as he gave the driver his parents address. As the car pulled away from the curb, Seonghwa found himself once again reaching out for Tae Min’s hand; who gave his freely once more, and held on tightly.

“You look nervous, Hwa.”

“I am. I haven’t seen my parents in so long … since before our marriage. I guess I’m worried what they’ll think when they see me,” he whispered, soft and scared as he lifted his free hand to try and chew on his thumbnail only to be blocked by his mask. Giving a soft huff, he elected to fidget with his thumbnail instead.

“The way they spoke about you on the phone, you know they miss you. You know they’ll be happy to see you, so why are you worrying?” There was an honest, inquisitive tone to Tae Min’s voice as he looked Seonghwa over.

“Just,” he sighed, looking away in embarrassment. “I guess I’m still thinking about parts of my life through Marcus’ lens,” Seonghwa admitted softly while taking his hand back. He wanted the comfort, desperately so, but felt as if he had already taken more than his share.

The statement pulled Tae Min’s lips into a hard frown as he leaned across the seat to hug Seonghwa; who stiffened at the action. After a few seconds, he leaned into the hug and gave it back in kind. It was still incredibly strange to be so free of his husband while simultaneously not. Marcus’ voice still ran through his head and he could hardly control when it would scream out at his actions; as it was doing inside his head at this very moment.

“Seonghwa, it’s going to take time to get through what’s happened, but you have made it through all your worst days already. Just keep thinking about that. You have already survived one hundred percent of your worst days,” Tae Min reassured him, giving a slight squeeze as he spoke. Seonghwa leaned heavier into the hug and held tight to his friend … his only friend right now.

They remained that way for a few minutes before the driver finally noticed and reminded them to sit properly please. Tae Min voiced an apology for the both of them and leaned back into his seat, but left his hand for Seonghwa to take if he wanted. Almost immediately, Seonghwa placed his hand into the one waiting for him. He held tightly to his friend as his eyes turned outside and he watched the people and buildings pass them by. Seoul was simultaneously old and new to him. It was terrifying in a way.

“Seonghwa?” Tae Min’s voice pulled him from his thoughts and the streets he was no longer really seeing. He turned to face his friend with curious eyes. “Are you okay?” The question caused his brow to furrow and unknown tears to slip down his face only to be caught by the mask.

“Oh, yeah. I’m fine. A little overwhelmed I think. I’m home. For the first time in years, I’m home. He always said he would never let me come back and yet, here I am. I’m about to see my parents again and I could not be happier … but I am equally terrified. They’re going to have questions. Questions I don’t have the strength to answer right now. Questions I can’t begin to think about answering. What if…,” Seonghwa started but was unable to finish voicing the thought in his head.

“You can’t think about what if’s right now. You know that’s Marcus talking,” Tae Min stated in a tone a little more harsh than he meant it to be. It seemed to get the point across as Seonghwa nodded. “We just need to remember that when we arrive, we’re family offering our condolences. Your parents will be doing the same, but once we’re in the house, all bets are off.”

“Hopefully I make it into the house,” Seonghwa added with a small giggle. “I have this vision of seeing them and then passing out.” Tae Min added a giggle this time, giving his hand a playful squeeze.

“If you do, I’ll catch you.” With that, the rest of their ride passed in relative silence, except for the amount of nervous movement Seonghwa made the closer they got to his home. When they finally turned onto his old street, he stilled and did his best to prepare to be a grieving family member. Tae Min placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder and he felt his stomach tie into tight knots. The closer he got to his home, the more he felt his mind threaten emptiness.

When the cab pulled effortlessly to a stop, Seonghwa gasped soft and quiet. The house he had grown up in was stood just as it had when he’d left. The shades fluttered as someone peered out at them from inside. His heart skipped a beat as his door opened and he looked up to see Tae Min holding a hand out to him. He looked back inside the cab for a few seconds and was shocked to find it empty. He turned back to Tae Min and peeked at the driver unloading their bags from the trunk.

“Oh, I am definitely going to pass out,” he muttered to himself as he finally took Tae Min’s helping hand and exited the cab. With his hyung’s help, Seonghwa stood at the end of the walkway leading up to his childhood home. For a brief moment he saw a vision of his younger self playing in the yard, blissfully unaware of the devastation years in his future. The vision snapped away when the front door opened and there stood his mother, tears running down her face. Seonghwa felt himself smile for a second before the world suddenly went dark.

- + - + -

With the help of Mister Park, Tae Min laid Seonghwa in his childhood room. His mother stood at the door and watched as her son was gently placed on his bed. She was quietly muttering sweet nothings across the room as the blanket was brought up Seonghwa’s legs. Mister Park made to grab the hem of the sweatshirt when Tae Min reached a gentle hand out to stop him.

“There’s … a few things you haven’t been prepared for yet,” he answered the look of confusion. “Seonghwa has a lot of scars now. Some he’s going to have difficulty hiding, even with clothing. He won’t be able to explain them to you either, not now anyway. I just want you both to know that you’re about to have a lot of questions he can’t answer right now. You’ll need to be very patient with him,” Tae Min finished explained before helping to carefully remove the sweatshirt. Both parents nodded as if they completely understood what was being said to them. Tae Min had to hope that they were really ready for Seonghwa’s current reality.

Mister Park and Tae Min were overly gentle with him, cradling his limp body as they moved him about. Misses Park entered the small room a little more as Seonghwa’s arms fell from the sleeves. “What happened to his hand?” she inquired of the bandage still wrapping the delicate appendage.

“Um, technically he did, but Levitt is at the core of … everything that has happened to him,” Tae Min explained as he held Seonghwa up so Mister Park could pull the sweatshirt over his head.

“His neck…,” came the elder’s soft realization that Tae Min had eluded to. “What happened to him, Lee Tae Min? What happened to our son?”

“Let’s tuck him in first, then I’ll explain what I can.” Tae Min was firm, but not at all disrespectful to his friend’s parents. It was a simple matter that he knew what to do and they needed to learn. Tae Min gently brushed Seonghwa’s hair from his eyes as his father covered him with the blanket the rest of the way. He sighed at his friend’s prone figure before pushing up from his bedside.

“Where are you going?” his mother asked as he began to move toward the door.

“Just out of earshot.”

“Are you sure we should leave him alone?” Mister Park questioned, not bothering to move from his position.

“We’re not going to be far from him. I think it would be for the best, he’s obviously been very overwhelmed by everything today. Adding our voices to what should be rest won’t help him,” Tae Min paused at the door, watching mother and father move in to loom over their son.

“I’m not leaving our son, not again.”

“Neither am I,” came his mother’s voice as she moved in further to kneel at her son’s feet. The young man sighed and glanced over the family. The parents thankful to have their son back, but certainly he’d not returned as he was when he had left. A dark thought flitted across his mind and Tae Min leaned against the wall in silence. This was not going to be easy on them.

“Well, Lee Tae Min, what’s happened to him?” Mister Park asked as he knelt by Seonghwa’s side. Tae Min’s eyes drifted to Seonghwa behind his parent’s backs. He could already see the signs of a dream; although it was more than likely a nightmare, building.

“Not in the room with him.”

“Why not? He already knows it, he lived it.”

“He did, but he’s not ready to relive it yet. Seonghwa’s not ready to tell you himself and he’s far less ready to hear someone talking about it over him. He doesn’t know what I know about this and I’d rather not startle him.”

“You will tell us what happened to our son,” Mister Park stated in a forceful tone, possibly louder than he intended.

Tae Min’s eyes snapped to Seonghwa; who’s brow furrowed at the statement. “I will, but not here. He needs rest and he’ll get it better without us talking about his abuse like he isn’t right here,” he explained, his own tone forceful, but far more quiet.

“What does it matter--” was all Mister Park got out before all of a sudden, Seonghwa sat up out of the blanket with a shout. Both parents heads shot to him, with Mister Park scooting back a little in surprise. Seonghwa had scooted against his wardrobe and was breathing rapidly while muttering “He changed the rules,” over and over in English.

With both parents frozen in shock, Tae Min eased into the space near Seonghwa, careful not to crowd him. “Hwa, there are no rules anymore. Hey, hey. He’s not here anymore. He can’t hurt you anymore. You’re safe. Seonghwa?” The name drew the younger man’s eyes to him and Tae Min smiled soft at him. The grey lensed eyes searched his face before it was clear that his face was recognized.

Seonghwa released a breath he had been holding. “Tae Min. Right, I’m safe. He’s not here,” he muttered; switching back into Korean, as his lids grew heavy again and an exhaustive sleep took him. Tae Min caught his friend once again and helped him back into the bed. He hardly looked back at the Park’s as he did so, instead allowing them to see exactly what their son was like in this moment. Once it seemed that Seonghwa was resting comfortably, he stood and walked to the door.

“Like I said, I won’t talk about what happened with him here.” With that, Tae Min exited the room and went down the small hall into the living space. He stopped in the kitchen for a glass of water while he waited to see if the Park’s would join him. It took a minute, but they both did; looking considerably more pale than when they brought Seonghwa in.

“What did that monster do to our star?” Misses Park asked quietly.

“A lot. I guess the biggest thing he’s done is change who Seonghwa is. How he interacts with the world now and that will include you both. He ruined Seonghwa’s spirit. Belittled and broke him. Sometimes it will be difficult to see him. There will be some days you won’t recognize him, but the Seonghwa you raised is still in him somewhere, just buried under years of abuse and neglect. He was beaten fairly badly just before he escaped, so he’s recovering from that on top of everything else,” Tae Min explained as he pulled out his phone in anticipation of the answer to his next question. “I can translate the article the police put out about him, if you’d like?”

The Park’s looked at each other before they sat on the nearby sofa, readying themselves as best they could for what Tae Min was about to read.

Chapter Text

Daylight slivered through the shades of Seonghwa’s room as the clouds allowed for the last vestige of summer to show its face. It crossed his own and he retaliated by covering his face and rolling away from the bright morning sun. Seonghwa ached all over as he turned away from the light. He currently had no concept of time, but then he wasn’t completely awake yet. A single eye opened to peer out from under the covers and closed just as quickly.

“Stupid dreams,” Seonghwa whispered sleepily to himself and he curled up tight under the covers waiting for reality to hit him. Minutes stretched out and nothing he was expecting came so he peeked his head out again. It was still his room … his room at home. His brow furrowed momentarily before the truth smacked him in the face. “That’s right. I left. I’m home, Korea.” He rubbed a hand over his face and groaned at the ache his jaw still held. He found himself briefly wondering when his confusion over his surroundings was going to stop. Marcus’ voice sounded in the back of his mind with a harsh, Never.

“You just need time, Seonghwa,” he whispered to himself as he attempted to stretch out the stiffness from his neck. Of every pain he had, his neck was still by far the worst of it. His voice would often catch to remind him that there had recently been hands around his throat. Seonghwa’s thoughts were interrupted by a gentle knock on the door. He quickly pulled the blanket up to his chin. “Come in,” he called softly, curling onto his side to see who came in. His mother creaked the door open enough to take a single step inside.

“Good to see you awake. How are you doing this morning?” she inquired, curious eyes searching his figure under the covers. It was a constant and loaded question. Seonghwa glanced into the pillow before adjusting slightly and causing himself to wince in pain. He noted his mother’s instinct to step forward to help him, but she managed to stay at his door for now. Seonghwa still wasn’t ready for his parents to see the extent of the pain that had been reaped across his body.

“I woke up peacefully this morning, so I’ll count that as a win for today,” he explained with a slight smile toward his mother. She returned it.

“That’s good. Very good to hear. There’s mandu guk when you’re ready and here are some fresh clothes,” she said as she reached toward a basket just out of sight and set a pair of fresh pajamas on the dresser. “They’re still warm. So I hope it helps.”

“It will, thank you eomma,” he cooed from his cocoon.

“Your father and I will be at the table when you’re ready,” she smiled before reluctantly moving to grab the door to close it as she left. Seonghwa nodded his thanks and when the door was closed, he momentarily buried his head back under the blanket. He heaved a great sigh after a minute or so then finally pushed himself to stand despite the aching cry from his bones. The few seconds on his hands and knees triggered a memory and a sudden wave of tears rippled through him. Seonghwa could feel every scar. Every pain that had ever been wracked against his body. After a moment, the pain subsided and he let out another heavy sigh.

Breathing out as he stood up onto shaky legs, Seonghwa let the blanket fall to the group in a near perfect ripple. With one last steadying breath, he moved to grab the fresh clothes his mother had left. It was a much softer fabric than he had recently become used to and it was a pleasant sign that he was free. Thankfully he didn’t need to go far for the bathroom as it was directly across the hall from his room, but he still peaked out to make sure that no one was looking. Satisfied, he crossed quickly and snapped the door shut behind him. Panic was always a nearby nuisance when he had to be out in public with his scars on display. While his own childhood home might not be the most public of places, he still wasn’t ready for the questions his parents undoubtedly had for him.

Seonghwa remained against the door for a moment before setting about for his shower. The whole time, he did his best ignore the mirror in the room. He knew what he would see, but still, his eyes eventually betrayed him. When he finally caught a glance of himself, he looked at the complete picture for a while. His neck was still the worst of it as delicate fingers brushed lightly at the angry marks. Seonghwa hissed a breath through his teeth at his own touch. Thankfully the bruises were beginning to heal, turning yellow on the edges as they were now nearly two weeks old. The marks left by his collar were another story entirely. They were still angry and aggravate by the saltwater from his escape. After a few long minutes, Seonghwa tore his eyes from his reflection and turned on the shower. The water was quick to heat up and by the time he was naked, it was ready for him. He was quick about washing himself up, a habit he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to break. Part of him still expected Marcus to come in at any moment and yank him from this dream.

Seonghwa turned off the water and toweled himself dry while doing his best to be careful around the multiple fresh wounds he still carried. The warmth of the shower had allowed his neck to loosen up some and he was honestly grateful for it. He moved to the fresh clothes and paused with the shirt in his hands. It was a button up … with short sleeves. He cast a glance at his reflection then back at the shirt. There was no way it would cover everything. His parents would see … they would question him. His mind when through a myriad of what-if’s as he reeled for a moment. Tae Min’s words entered his mind after a minute and after another, he spoke them aloud like a mantra.

“They happened to me, but they do not define me. They happened, but they do not define me,” he began to whisper over and over as he slid the shirt on. Seonghwa smoothed the shirt out with a wavering sigh before forcing himself to look at his reflection again. His eyes lingered only for a second on his face before drifting down to his neck; completely on display. There was no hiding it. His face screwed up in a mix of disgust, shame, and … the anger on his own face startled him. His parents knew how he didn’t want to talk about his scars, or have them seen, and yet here his mother had given him a shirt that would force him to show them off and explain them.

He pressed his palms into his eyes as he suddenly crouched in the bathroom, quiet sobs beginning to wrack his thin frame. He kept trying to repeat Tae Min’s words, but for a moment, his voice failed him. Seonghwa allowed himself to cry until his voice returned and he whispered the words again. “They do not define me.” Seonghwa opened his eyes as he pushed himself back to standing and took another good look at his reflection. “They do not define me,” he repeated with a hard edge to his voice that startled even himself. Deep inside he knew the tone. If his parents really wanted to talk about it, Seonghwa would give them reason not to ask again. At least not until he was ready.

“Seonghwa?” came his father’s voice from the other side of the door. His head snapped to the door before glancing back at his reflection.

“Coming,” Seonghwa replied, turning from the mirror to slip quickly into the comfortable pants his mother had given him. Tossing the old pajamas into the hamper, he glanced at his exposed scars one last time. His eyes lingered on his extended wrists. Seonghwa knew where to look for the thin marks and he wondered if his parents would notice those over everything else. With a shake of his head, he crossed to the door and opened it with a steadying breath. Seonghwa met his father with a soft smile. “Mandu guk, huh? I bet it hasn’t changed since I last had it,” he stated, only just managing to maintain the smile as his father caught sight of the damage done to him.

After a moment of awkward silence, “It hasn’t,” his father finally said, unable to take his eyes off his son. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m fine, getting there. I have a long journey ahead of me though. Shall we?” Seonghwa motioned for his father to walk ahead of him as they made their way to the dining room. He paused before crossing the threshold and sat without a word. His father didn’t sit yet, instead moving about to grab a glass for Seonghwa to drink from. He heard whispers as he looked over the small spread on the table. There was a pause in his parents soft voices then a soft gasp as he presumed his mother peeked a glance at him.

“They’ll heal, eomma. I’ll be okay in the end. It’s probably just going to take me a while to get there,” he answered the unasked question. The question that would likely follow him for the rest of his life. Seonghwa spooned some of the mandu guk into a bowl and began to eat like he had never tasted food before.

His parents finally joined him after a moment and a hefty glass was set in front of him filled near to the brim with water. He whispered a slight thank you and reached out for it, exposing the fading bruises his arms held; not to mention the hesitation marks on his wrist. His mother gasped in shock and looked at him as he brought the water to his lips. He gave a slight shrug, but it was her reaction to his neck that burned. She watch him drink for a moment, that shock still on her face until she looked away, unable to keep her eyes on her son’s pain. Seonghwa swallowed hard and set the cup down with a soft tap.

“I know, eomma. I wish I could look away from them too.” The tone caught himself by as much surprise as it did his parents. Seonghwa set his utensils down and rubbed at his mouth before speaking. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bite like that.”

“It’s okay, Seonghwa,” his mother tried to reassure him, but the tone felt wrong to his ears and he shook his head at her.

“No it’s not. None of this is okay. I’m very volatile right now and none of us are helping each other,” Seonghwa admitted as he brushed the start of tears away from his eyes.

“We’re trying. It would help if we knew more--” Seonghwa huffed a hard laugh to cut his mother off.

“No. That would not help you. You don’t want to know what he did to me.”

“Seonghwa, we’re trying to help and be understanding, but,” his father paused, not daring to say the next words. So it would be up to Seonghwa to finish his father’s statement.

“But what, appa?” Seonghwa kept his eyes on his father, but nothing left his mouth, as if he had lost the nerve to say anything. “But what? I … me? … I’m making it difficult?” He glanced between his parents. His father held his eyes a little longer, but his mother refused to look at him. “I wonder why that is. I’ve only been held captive in my own home for the last four years, but that’s no big thing right? It doesn’t matter that I had to make a plan that involved a hurricane that could have easily killed me just to get away from him. Or that I wanted to retread these scars--” He ran a finger up his wrist in a swift motion and surprised himself with the lack of hesitation in the movement. “--to get away from him. He would’ve seen it and stopped it, but it didn’t matter to me. That is how badly I needed to escape from him. Otherwise you would be hearing about my death from Tae Min,” Seonghwa spilled, his eyes still darting between his parents, neither of whom chose to speak. “But I’m the one making this difficult?”

“Do you want to know what’s really difficult?” he continued when his parents still had nothing to say as he stood from the table to pace around the living room. “More difficult than waking up every morning in confusion about my surroundings. Worse than waiting for hands to crush my throat even more and rip me from this safe reality. No, the most difficult thing is not having my boundaries respected,” Seonghwa spit the words like venom at his parents. Deep down, he understood what they were wanting to do, but at this very moment he could not forgive the intrusion. Angry tears made their way down his face as the fire roared in him. “I told you both, I didn’t want you to see these. That I wasn’t ready to talk about what happened.” Finally his father looked away in shame.

“The most difficult thing is the betrayal I feel in my heart right now,” Seonghwa whispered as heard a sob waver his voice. He held the front of his button up and shook it in his hands as he continued to speak. “I didn’t come home with anything short sleeved and I’ve never worn these before. They feel new and I think you both know that they are. I think you went out of your way to buy me something I did not want to wear. Which hurts exceptionally because he had done that,” Seonghwa explained and watched the words hit his parents like a ton of bricks. “I know you want to help, but seeing and knowing what he did to me will not help you and it won’t help me either.” The fire ebbed from his voice as his outburst left him without an appetite. “I’m going back to bed for a while.” Without another word he walked back toward his room. His parents made no motions to stop him and as he closed the door, he heard his mother crying.

- + - + -

Seonghwa’s head slipped from his hands as a moment of sleep attempted to take him. The morning was a dark blur that he was trying to forget under his oversized hoodie. His head turned a fraction as he heard footsteps outside the door he was sitting against. By the lightness of the steps, he had to guess it was his mother coming to check on him. She didn’t try to open the door, didn’t even knock, she just stood outside his room for a minute or two before heading back down the hall. Seonghwa took a hard gasp as a little blossom of betrayal tried to bloom in his gut, but his own guilt about raising his voice to his parents the way he had was starting to eat at him.

Fresh tears were threatening again and he was tired of tears. He had cried himself to sleep earlier and was exhausted at the prospect of them again. His mind wandered back to the morning and his reaction. In the grand scheme of things, Seonghwa would bet he under reacted to what his parents had done, but he couldn’t bring himself to remain angry with them. Unlike Marcus, they were kind and as they couldn’t begin to imagine what had happened to him, he couldn’t imagine what it was like to see their son like this. Seonghwa looked down at himself, hidden perfectly under his sweatshirt.

Their curiosity won’t be sated until they know everything thing I did to you, came a voice from his mind.

“Shut up,” he replied in English.

Every little thing that made me feel good. The voice cooed and Seonghwa backed away when he swore he felt a hand caress his face. His own hand wiped the sensation away, as well as the shock of tears. After a moment he released the breath he was holding when a soft knock drew his attention up. In his haste to back away from the phantom touch, Seonghwa had pulled his door open a few inches and now his mother’s face was peeking in at him.

“Are you okay?” she inquired in a soft and quiet tone.

“I--” He glanced around the room to make sure he was truly alone. “I’m fine, eomma. My mind is just playing tricks on me. Apologies if I startled you,” he explained as he shifted to sit proper once more. When he looked up, his mother was kneeling outside his door. His brow furrowed as she bowed to him.

“I’m sorry for this morning. You were right, my star. My curiosity got the better of me and I forgot my purpose as a mother. I made you feel like you were in danger when my purpose is to protect you.” The catch in his mother’s voice made him pull a sad face as he shifted to open the door the rest of the way.

“It’s okay, eomma. This is new territory for us all. We’ll make it through, probably with some more hiccups, but we’ll make it,” he reassured her as he reached out for her hand. She looked between it and his face. Seonghwa nodded and gave a smile. When she took it, she did so with both hands and placed a gentle kiss to the back of it before resting her cheek against it. The action caught him off guard slightly but a slow smile spread across his lips as she held his hand. Seonghwa had long missed the warmth of his mother and said nothing while she offered a bit of that warmth to him.

“Are you hungry? There’s still some mandu guk from this morning,” she explained as she let go of his hand and gazed softly at him.

“I am actually, but … I’d also like to talk to you and appa about something,” Seonghwa proposed cautiously. Even though he made no mention of what he wanted to talk about, the look on his mother’s face was momentarily shocked and curious. She didn’t ask immediately, although he could tell that she wanted to.

“He’s still up. It would be nice to talk,” she smiled, pushing herself up from the floor. Seonghwa smiled at her optimism even while he knew what he wanted to speak with them about. He pushed himself to stand as well and followed his mother back toward the kitchen. The television was low, but he could still hear the news talking about tomorrow’s weather as he entered the living space to see his father adjusting on the small sofa.

“Good evening, how’re you feeling?” his father asked upon seeing him. Seonghwa gave a wry smile at the question.

“Better now that I’ve cooled down. It gave me time to think. I have a feeling outbursts like that might be a common occurrence right now and I don’t want to yell at either of you again. I didn’t like how it felt,” he admitted as he roughed a hand through his pastel hair. “I was thinking … maybe getting my own place would be a good idea?” His eyes glanced between his parents as they absorbed the statement. Seonghwa watched as his father gave a slight shrug before they locked eyes.

“You’re sure about that?”

“Sure? Not entirely, but it might be better than us all walking on eggshells here. I wouldn’t be doing it alone. I mean, I’d seek out a therapist to help with … everything. I’d call often, let you know how I’m doing. I do think it’s a good idea to start regaining my independence,” Seonghwa explained, glancing furtively between his parents. They were still looking at each other when a smile began to creep across his father’s face.

“It’s funny you should mention that, because your mother and I had a similar conversation out here. For the last couple years, we’ve been putting money aside with the thought of visiting. The in-laws showing up unexpectedly,” he explained to Seonghwa’s shock. The star looked between his parents in complete disbelief. “We had taken a camping to steele ourselves for what was to come and everything changed. Now the money is just sitting in our account, but given that you’re trying for independence, we’d like you to have it.”

“…what?” To say there was a look of confusion on his face was an under statement. Of course he was going to need his parents help to find and rent a place, but a part of him thought he would need to fight tooth and nail for that money. The Marcus voice in his brain, ever doubting anything good or easy for him.

“Well, it’s twenty million won we have no use for now--”

“Twenty million!?” Seonghwa blurted out in a louder tone than intended by the way he quickly covered his mouth. Both his parents giggled at his reaction.

“Yes. Your mother made an excellent savings plan. Two tickets on non-stop flights to JFK airport, enough for nearly a weeks stay in a hotel, and enough for food and cabs if we needed them. Then enough for three flights home on non-stop flights to Seoul,” his father explained as his wife set a tray of tea down for all of them to enjoy. Seonghwa’s brows knit as he followed what his father had said.

“Three … three?” he confirmed.

“Yes, our star, three,” his mother smiled. Seonghwa cast his eyes between his parents for a full minute before his mind put the information together completely.

“You were coming to get me?”

“That was out plan, but you beat us to it,” his father giggled softly as he reached for a cup of tea. Seonghwa’s knees threatened to tumble him to the ground, so he quickly lowered himself to the floor, landing heavy on his knees as he stared at his parents.

“This was meant to happen now then. Didn’t exactly matter how, but that … that multiple people had a plan to save me … this was meant to happen,” he said with a tearful face, but happy smile. Then he adjusted himself on the floor and bowed before his parents. Despite the mornings anger, to learn that his parents were on the eve of their own flight to come and save him warmed his heart. It wasn’t until he felt his father’s hand on his shoulder that Seonghwa realized that he had begun to cry silently. He wiped his eyes as he sat back up onto his knees to look his father in the eye and give him a small smile.

“I think you’re right, it was meant to happen that week. We’re just glad to have you back,” his father stated while still giving him a kind smile.

“Despite this morning, so am I. We just have to cross those hurdles as we come to them,” Seonghwa admitted as he finally reached out for a cup of tea.

“Well, we have a little more information that could help with that.” Producing his cell, his father held it out for Seonghwa to take after he unlocked it. He took the phone with confusion and found himself looking at a series of texts from Tae Min. As he read, Seonghwa nearly dropped the cup, but he quickly fumbled to replace it on the table.

“Really?” Shock filled his voice. He couldn’t believe what he was reading.

“The article is in English, but from what Tae Min said, it’s true,” his mother voiced from his left. Seonghwa glanced at her and her smile warmed his heart even more. Turning back to the phone, Seonghwa re-read the texts.

The verdict has been handed down!
Maximum 30 months for assault!
The prosecution says there is ample evidence to extend his time, but defense holds to no body, no crime.
Levitt continues to say he “loved Sawyer” with all his heart and would never hurt him.
A load of lies.
Let Seonghwa know his plan worked!

A link followed the texts a few hours later with a headline that read, Prominent Chesapeake Local Jailed for Assaulting Missing and Presumed Dead Husband. Seonghwa had to hold the phone with both hands to keep it from shaking free as he clicked the link. “You’re telling me it worked? Everything I went through … worked? I … I’m really free?” he said aloud, not really talking to either of his parents. They remained quiet and let him have his moment. “As the verdict was handed down, Levitt was furious. Continuing to claim that he would never harm Sawyer. The judge ordered him to silence and reminded him of the footage aired to the court earlier in the trial,” Seonghwa’s voice wavered as he read the article. The thought that strangers saw him at his most vulnerable struck his heart, but deep in his mind, he knew it was a necessity.

“When the judge asked Levitt to stand for the verdict once again, he refused and bailiffs had to hoist Levitt to his feet as the judge handed down the verdict on more time. ‘Thirty months in prison. It might not be as long as when you kept your husband, but I assure you it will be just as bad where you are going. Bailiffs remove this man.’ The judge was heard saying. As the courtroom began to stand and empty, Levitt attempted to rush the judge, only to be roughed to the ground by the bailiffs as he continued to scream, ‘I would never have hurt him, I loved him!’” Seonghwa set the phone down with more force than intended. He was still shaking as he brought one hand up to wipe more tears from his cheeks.

“After five years, I’m finally free,” he giggled softly as he released the phone, unwilling to read anymore of it. “I’m free,” he stated once more, somehow happy and sad all at the same time. Laughter suddenly erupted from Seonghwa, but it quickly turned from something manic, to something somber as years of built up tears came flooding out of him. His mother scooted to the floor next to him and she placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. He startled her and himself by leaning into her. Thankfully it only startled her for a few seconds before she wrapped a loving arm around her son.

Seonghwa continued to sob as his father collected his phone from the table and he shifted closer to them. He knelt on the floor in front their star and rested a hand on his knee; which Seonghwa covered with his own. The Park’s stayed this way for several minutes until his sobbing had calmed. Seonghwa took a few deep breaths and sighed into his mother’s shoulder; unaware his parents had been having a quiet conversation over his head.

“When would you like to start looking for a place?” his father asked softly, shifting his hand to hold Seonghwa’s in his.

“Um … next week?”

“A fine time,” his mother stated as she pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

“If you need help with the actual move, call us, we can help.”

“Maybe not. I am supposed to be dead,” Seonghwa reminded his father with a giggle.

“Oh yes. Well, no matter. We’ll always call if we’re planning a visit. Given this morning, your mother and I promise to respect your privacy and your boundaries,” his father stated while giving his hand a gentle squeeze. Seonghwa smiled, appreciating the comfort that his parents were giving him.

“A life on my own terms … with my own things … in my own country again. You have no idea how good that feels to say,” Seonghwa sighed as he leaned into his mother’s shoulder again.

“As good as realizing this is the first day of the rest of your life, our star."

Chapter Text

Low k-pop filled the taxi as they neared the last appointment of the day. Seonghwa sighed hard behind his mask as the driver began to look for a place to park. It was another of the many buildings that he’d been visiting all over Seoul the last few days. Today’s district was Mapo-gu and was proving about as fruitless as all the others. Trying to find a place that didn’t make him feel claustrophobic was proving exceptionally problematic. Most apartments he found were in skyscrapers; which in of itself was not the problem. The elevators were or if they were on the lower floors, they turned out to be about as small as the play room. Neither situation gave him high hopes as the cab pulled in directly in front of the building.

“Would you like me to wait again?” the driver asked as he put the car in park.

“Given the way the rest of our day has gone, Kim Kyung Moon, I think that would be a safe bet. I will let you know if I’ll be a little bit,” Seonghwa stated as he undid the seat belt and climbed out of the cab.

“Pardon me, are you here for the showing?” came a woman’s voice from the door and clearly startling Seonghwa as the door closed heavy when he jumped. “Oh I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re fine. You weren’t there when I looked out the window,” he giggled from behind his mask as he adjusted the jacket around his frame. “But in answer to your question, I am.”

“I’m been told I have a habit of sneaking up on people, I do apologize,” she explained with a deep bow before moving to pull the door open. “Please, come in.” She waved for him to go ahead of her and with only a few seconds of hesitation, he did. “My name is Lee Yu Bin and it will be my pleasure to show you around our options today,” she stated as she took off her own coat now that they were in the warmth of the building.

“Park Seonghwa. Thank you for you time,” he said in a soft tone as glanced around, his eyes locking on the pair of elevators at the other end of the entrance hall. “I’m sorry, I’ve visited so many places in the last few days that … um, I’m having trouble remembering what your offerings are.”

“We have three currently listed, two on ten and one on twelve. Will that be a problem?” Yu Bin inquired with what sounded like genuine concern in her voice.

“The floors themselves, no. The elevators on the other hand…. I uh … I can’t,” he shook his head and finally tore his eyes away from the lifts to face the young lady whose time he was wasting. She glanced at the end of the entrance hall a second before returning her eyes to him

“Claustrophobia?”

“Not exactly, but it’s a good word for it. I am terribly sorry to have wasted you time Lee Yu Bin, but thank you,” Seonghwa said with a gracious bow before turning to make his way for the door. Yu Bin stood in a stunned silence for a minute as the young man made it to the exit before her brain began to work in overdrive.

“Wait, hold on a moment,” she exclaimed, running around the front desk to type on the computer. Seonghwa kept his hand on the door, but waited as asked. He could see her lips moving as she quietly read a few things out to herself. She seemed to be contemplating something until a smile broke across her face. “We have a single on the next floor up as well. It was still being cleaned earlier and was slated to be listed this evening. Seems like you arrived at just the right time. Would you like to see it?” she inquired, grabbing her clipboard and walking back around the desk.

“Are … are you sure?” Shock was clear in his voice, but it made her smile.

“Of course, we can even take the stairs right here. No elevator involved,” she explained with a smile and a gesture to stairs that Seonghwa had not registered. He stood with his hand on the handle for another few seconds before making his way back into the foyer.

“I can handle stairs,” he grinned. Not that she could see it through his mask, but she could hear it in his voice.

“Wonderful. If you would follow me please.” Yu Bin motioned once again for Seonghwa to follow her and he did with little encouragement. “You might be close to the road, but it’s a wonderful little place.”

“I can’t wait. May I ask why the previous tenant moved?”

“They’re having children. The first few floors are largely made up of, to quote the West, Bachelor Pads. Best for singles, couples, or people with pets. Definitely not built for people looking to expand their families. You’re also in luck as it’s a corner suite, so the bedroom has wonderful windows,” she explained with a flourish of her hand as they made their way to the partially open door at the end of the hall. “And it looks like they’ve finished cleaning, so we don’t have to boot anyone out,” she grinned and opened the door fully for Seonghwa.

After taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, Seonghwa entered the small single bedroom apartment. As he walked in, the intrusive thought that the space seemed as big as kitchen and dining room of Marcus’ home crossed his mind. Seonghwa shook the thought away as he moved in, finding the kitchen to his left to be a perfect size for just himself. It opened into the living and dining area and what he presumed was the bedroom off to the right. He opened the only door in the apartment and found the bathroom to be more roomy than he was expecting it to be.

“You’re in luck Park Seonghwa, this is one of our open concept showers. There’s no door, so it hopefully shouldn’t trigger your claustrophobia,” Yu Bin explained from the door. Seonghwa stood in the center of the bathroom for a minute, unable to move. There were no questions, no gentle teasing, just an understanding the he had a problem with small spaces and she was finding the best ways to accommodate him; on purpose or accidental, he didn’t care. He gave a breathy sigh as he glanced around the bathroom and found her words to be true. There were no extra walls to separate the shower from the rest of the bathroom. A smile found his lips as he exited the bathroom and stood in the middle of the open living space. He heard high heels behind him and turned slowly to face the realtor.

“How much is it?”

“Let me look that up one moment.” Yu Bin lifted her clipboard and flipped open the tablet that it had been resting on. After typing a few words in, she flitted back to another tab when a bing sounded from the device. “Five hundred thousand.”

“That … that’s it?” Seonghwa balked visibly under his mask at the number. He glanced around the very clean and modern apartment. “This is too nice a place to be only five hundred.”

“We make enough from the rest of the building to be able to offer it at that price.”

“In Mapo-gu?”

“We’re hardly the city center. Although there is plenty of nightlife going on out there, but you also have the look of someone needing to begin anew. My parents are more than sympathetic. We have quite a few residents looking for fresh starts, so you would be right at home here. What do you think, Park Seonghwa?” Yu Bin inquired as she held the clipboard and tablet close to her chest. The young man looked around the apartment once more and sighed heavily in thought.

“I think it’s perfect.”

“Then it’s your.”

“Without my information? Without checking on me?” Seonghwa’s head wiped around fast at her words, the shock evident in his eyes as well as his voice.

“Like I said, a fresh start. It feels like you need someone to believe in you. I’d like to be that person that does just that. So, why don’t start filing out the paperwork real quick while go get the keys--”

“Actually … would I be able to request that a new lock be put in?” Seonghwa interrupted quietly. The fact he even got the words out while she was still speaking surprised himself.

“Of course. I’ll put that request in while you fill out the paperwork and then I’ll explain your laundry situation. How’s that sound?” Yu Bin questioned as she placed the paper he needed to fill out on top of the clipboard, then pulled out a pen for him.

“It sounds great to me. Thank you,” he replied almost sheepishly as he took the offered clipboard and pen to the counter to fill out. Most of the blanks he was very quick about filling out, but some he had to think about. He paused when it came to marking himself as single. It was still a strange sensation to be single after five years of heavy adornments meant to remind him who he belonged to. He glanced to his left hand and could still see the faint line where his wedding ring used to sit. For a moment he remembered the titanium heaviness that used to occupy the space, then his mind recalled the heaviness of his collar. Seonghwa closed his eyes and huffed the heaviness away before shaking his head to finish filling in the blanks. That is until he reached the question about current and former jobs. He stood to his full height as Yu Bin reentered the apartment, jingling the keys in her hand. “Um, I don’t currently have a job and have no past employers, but I am looking. Now with this chance at a home, I’ll be looking with more fervor and will hopefully be able to update this information soon.”

“As long as you keep us updated, that should be fine. May I ask though, why you have no past employment?” Yu Bin felt the question was wrong just from how her new tenant stilled. “I apologize if the question is too forward.”

“No. No, you’re fine,” Seonghwa stated as he straightened up but didn’t turn to look at her yet. “My ex-husband preferred to provide for the house, so I stayed home,” he half-lied, omitting the terrible truths of his marriage.

“Oh. I’m sorry for your loss.”

“You don’t have to be, he was a terrible man,” Seonghwa admitted as he finally looked over to Yu Bin while he spoke. It was plain on his face that he felt no remorse for the loss of his husband. There was a moments quiet while she absorbed and adjusted her understanding of the information.

“Then the world is likely glad to be rid of him,” she stated confidently as Seonghwa moved to hand he the clipboard and pen back.

“I know I am,” he stated in a whisper that caught his own mind be surprise as she looked the information over.

“It all looks good. If you’ll follow me, I’ll explain your laundry.” Yu Bin led him back to the bathroom and went about explaining how to set up the mini washer in the shower. “The last tenant left it as a gift. I think they said something about paying it forward. Giving a bit of their good fortune to the next soul that might need it.”

“How kind of them,” Seonghwa smiled beneath his mask. The gift of a place to live and something he wasn’t going to need to buy as he moved in.

“We’ll be very happy to have you here, Park Seonghwa. Welcome home,” Yu Bin smiled as she held out her hand for him to shake.

A smile creased Seonghwa’s eyes as he took her hand for the shake. “Thank you for having me.”

“You’re welcome. When do you think that you’ll be moving in?”

“Within the week, I hope. I have a lot of furnishings to buy.”

“Amazing. Let’s lock up so that I can hand off the keys for the current lock since it will be a day or three until they can replace it. This way you can come and go as you please until the lock is changed.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Seonghwa sighed as he followed Yu Bin out of his new apartment. In the exact moment the door was locked, his stomach growled audibly. “Oh my … I’ve been so worried about finding a place to live today that I think I forgot to eat. I ought to fix that,” he added with a giggle as she handed him the keys.

“I know of this great little eatery just down the road. It’s a great atmosphere for personal celebrations.”

“I’d really like that, thank you,” Seonghwa said as he followed her back to the main hall. Yu Bin gave him quick directions to Accidental Destiny, a small gift shop eatery as she described it. “Thank you again, Lee Yu Bin.”

“You’re most welcome, Park Seonghwa. You’ll normally be able to find me behind the desk during the day, but we do have security at night, just so you’re aware. Welcome to your new home,” she added with a deep bow that he returned in kind. He couldn’t stop smiling as he stood back up. It was an incredibly freeing moment, as much as it terrified him to take this step. He gave another small bow of his head with another thank you before making his way back outside. The cab sat exactly where he had left it, but the driver was standing outside the car.

“That looks like it went well,” Kyung Moon stated with a smile in his voice. Seonghwa returned his smile as he stepped closer.

“It did. It went very well. How much do I owe you for the day?” he inquired as he shifted to put the keys in his pocket and fish out his wallet.

“Are you sure you won’t need me anymore today?” Kyung Moon asked as he opened the passenger door to peek at the meter; which was just ticking over to an even two hundred fifty thousand.

“Well that’s fortuitous,” Seonghwa murmured as he fished out his card to hand off. “I’m pretty sure I’ll be okay. I might do some shopping. Definitely get myself something to eat. I’ll just start acclimatizing myself to this part of the city.”

“All right,” the driver nodded as he took the card and ran it. He waited for the happy little ding before tearing off the receipt. “There you. If you ever need a day driver again, call our number there--” He pointed to where it was on the receipt. “Ask for Kim Kyung Moon and I’ll be here to help.”

“Thank you, thank you so very much,” Seonghwa exclaimed softly as he bowed graciously. Kyung Moon exited the vehicle and return the bow in kind. They both held the bow for a few seconds before Seonghwa stood straight and gave a little wave. Kyung Moon watched him for a moment before walking around his car to climb back in the driver’s seat.

“I hope he lands on his feet.”

Chapter Text

A weight felt as if it had finally lifted from his shoulders. After nearly a week of places that triggered something in his mind, Seonghwa had managed to find himself a place to live. He gave a happy shout out to the universe as he walked down the street. It was a freedom he hadn’t felt in years. Hwa blissfully ignored the eyes focusing on him in his elation. It was everything he could do to keep from crying out in happiness. Seonghwa took a deep breath of the city and tempered his elation a bit. Yu Bin had said the building he was looking for was just on the next block and he would know it the moment he saw it.

“Huh. She wasn’t wrong,” he mused to himself as the establishment came into view. She said it would feel out of place and tucked between two skyscrapers, the single floor building fit almost perfectly. It felt like a storefront he had seen back in America, but was clearly tailored by a Korean eye. It said the name in both Korean and English upon the building and from the half frosted windows, looked incredibly inviting; even if it looked like no one was seated inside. Seonghwa tested the door gingerly, just in case it was locked. The door opened and he entered the warm space.

“Hello,” came a voice from behind the counter to his left. Seonghwa’s head snapped to the blonde across from him. Kind eyes smiled over their own mask as the young man brushed the shaggy blonde hair from his eyes. “Is this your first time?”

“Here? Yes. It’s been some time since I had last visited Mapo-gu. This building definitely wasn’t here then, but I … I like the feel of this place,” Seonghwa explained as he entered some more; as to not block the door. He glanced around at the balance of bright colors and muted tones that seemed to denote the front of house from the back. Seating was to his right and a short declining hall broke up the space in a way that felt natural. “I like this.”

“I’ll have to make sure San knows. You’re one of the first to actually like the establishment,” the blonde explained as he set about to clean something from the counter.

“Really, why?” Seonghwa asked as he stepped closer to the register the blonde was stood behind.

“It feels too Western for a lot of them.”

“Ah,” he sighed as he glanced around. “I mean, the building itself feels very American, but it’s clearly been tailored by a Korean; who has quite the eye for color,” Seonghwa stated as his eyes wandered the walls.

“Oh now I definitely need to let San know that someone finally gets it.” The blonde was once again grinning over his mask and Seonghwa giggled as his eyes finally turned to the menu board on the wall. Cafe sandwiches and boba teas. He could get used to having an eatery like this nearby.

“Excuse me,” he started, taking another step up to the counter as the blonde poked the register to take down his order. “I’ll have an inkigayo please and … a matcha milk tea boba with the brown sugar pearls please.”

“Just those?”

“For now, yes.”

“All right.” Seonghwa heard a soft bing from the kitchen as his order went through. “You could have a seat or wander the shop. Either way, I’ll bring it out for you when it’s ready,” the blonde explained, that smile in his eyes again. Seonghwa gave a nod, returning that effortless smile before turning away and gazing upon the shop walls once again. Art pieces of varying sizes hung all over the seating area, but one had caught his attention. He stepped up to the large piece labeled Fragile and gazed upon it. It seemed like two figures intertwined, but they both carried the same face. One had a shattered body with a face of fear, the other had the same shattered figure but the cracks were filled with gold and its face was content. He took a few steps back to see the piece as a whole and felt a hand around his heart. It felt just like him.

“Are you finding everything okay?” came a different voice from just down the slanted hall he was standing in front of. The voice pulled Seonghwa back to the present as he looked down the hall for the source. Another young man about his age only with vibrant red hair was staring at him curiously. His eyes flicked to the piece again before returning to the vibrant red head.

“I, um … yeah. This piece … it really speaks to me,” Seonghwa said with a slight cough as he attempted to hide the break in his voice.

“Oh? Which one?” the young man asked as he stepped into the main hall to follow Seonghwa’s gaze.

“Fragile. Do you know the artist?”

“I do, he works here part time. You’ll be able to meet him later if you stay a while,” the red head jibed with a smile that wrinkled his eyes closed. Seonghwa found the smile infectious and returned it from under his mask.

“I … would really like that actually. To ask him what it means to him.”

“Mountain!” came the blonde’s voice again as he stepped out from the kitchen. “He said he likes the feel of this place. Your--” The blonde paused as he glanced down at the boba cup in his hand. “One moment. Kim Junsung, matcha milk tea, not mocha,” he said as he stalked back into the kitchen where they couldn’t hear his voice anymore.

A rough sigh escaped the red head as he ran his fingers through his hair before turning back to Seonghwa. “So, you like the place?” he asked, clearly trying to distract himself from the kitchen.

“I do. I can see the American influence in the architecture sure, but it’s so much softer than many American buildings. Clearly seen through the eyes of our culture, but you don’t go out of your way to alienate tourists either. You must be the owner he spoke of, it’s clear you’ve put a lot of work into this place,” Seonghwa explained as he looked around the establishment with a soft smile.

“Choi San, at your service. The one that likes to call me mountain is Kang Yeosang, a very dear friend. I should probably see what’s keeping your meal, I think I’m about to be out another cook. Excuse me,” San sighed with a slight bow as he stepped away before Seonghwa had a chance to give his name. Yeosang came back out with a different cup of boba that he could see was matcha green this time.

“I am so sorry about that, but here’s your boba, correct this time.” Yeosang held out the cup with an apologetic bow of his head. Seonghwa took it from his hands and returned the bow before turning to move to a table to sit. In one swift motion, he stabbed the straw against the table then into the top of his boba. It brought a giggle out of Seonghwa as it had been some time since he had been able to do that. He sat down as he slipped his mask off and quickly took his first sip, only for his whole face to furrow.

“Oh no,” came San’s voice from behind the counter. Seonghwa looked up to see the owner standing there, looking exacerbated with his eyes focused on him. “What’s wrong with it?” Seonghwa panicked a few seconds as he fixed his face and wiped his lips trying to come up with a lie. “Please, I’d rather you be honest.”

“Um … I can taste the powder. It’s messing with the texture,” he explained honestly. It wasn’t the only problem, but it was the glaring problem with the drink. Seonghwa watched San sigh and glance back toward the kitchen.

“Yeo, would you bring this to him and turn the sign to closed,” the red head ordered in a clipped but polite tone as he held the plate out for the blonde.

“Sure thing, Mountain. Be kind,” Yeosang jibbed with a grin as he was already moving to bring Seonghwa his sandwich.

“I’m … I am kind,” San huffed as he turned back into the kitchen. Yeosang set the inkigayo down with a smile before he stepped up the door and flipped the open sign to closed. Seonghwa stiffened in his chair, his appetite slowly fading.

“Should I go?”

“No, please stay. You’ve only just gotten your meal. We’re hosting a few friends and we just want everyone else to know. I’ve been telling him for months to get the hours changed, but he keeps putting it off,” Yeosang explained as he took a seat near Seonghwa; who could only imagine the potential look of fear on his face.

“Are you sure?” he pressed, sitting up like he meant to get up from the table.

“I am,” San hollered from the kitchen entrance as he stepped back out into the main room. “Please, stay and eat. It’s the least we can do after the small foul up.” He waved for Yeosang to join him as a boy exited the kitchen behind him. Looking about sixteen, Seonghwa watch the teen move through the store and head straight for the door. The kid glanced him up and down and scoffed slightly.

“Hey,” Seonghwa found himself saying as the teen grabbed the door. “If you keep practicing, I’m sure you’ll be able to come back one day and prove him wrong.” He nodded his head in San’s direction; who had paused his conversation with Yeosang to listen. The kid; with hair just as red as San except worn in excessively done up spikes, glanced back to his former boss.

“It was only a job to make my mother happy.”

“Well, if you do keep at it, I wish you luck,” Seonghwa offered with a smile. The teen took a moment before slowly smiling back.

“Thanks, but I was looking for a reason. I’d rather hang with my friends, so, I thank you for your honesty,” Junsung stated with a bow before opening the door and leaving without another glance back to anyone. Seonghwa’s brows furrowed in confusion as he turned back to the owner. San simply gave a shrug and continued his talk with Yeosang when the growl of his stomach reminded Seonghwa he needed to eat. He finally picked up the inkigayo and took a bite.

“Hmm,” he hummed as he processed the sandwich. Peeling apart the bread to look inside, Seonghwa shrugged at his own thoughts and took a second bite to get his thoughts together.

“Thoughts?” San asked from the next table, startling Seonghwa; who hadn’t heard either of them take seats nearby.

“Um … the egg and potato mixture needs more seasoning and the jam doesn’t make up for how dry the mixture is. Your bread however, is very good.”

“I wish we could make our own bread, but we get it from a bakery just down the road,” San explained as he leaned back dangerously in his chair. “Why say anything to him though?”

“Because he needed to know he technically didn’t do anything wrong. If it really was just a job to make his mother happy, being almost seventy percent a decent chef without trying is admirable. I just wanted to let him know if he wanted to apply himself, he could be a decent chef one day,” Seonghwa explained in a tone that surprised himself. As if he was talking about himself instead of the teen.

“Hmm, I hadn’t thought about it like that. Maybe he will come back and prove me wrong one day, that would be nice,” San hummed as he set all four legs of his chair back on the ground with his eyes still on Seonghwa. “Do you know what you would do to make it better, more palatable?”

“It’s all about counteracting the bread. It might be soft, but it’s naturally dry, so you need lots of jam and the potato mixture needs to be just right.”

“Do you cook?”

Seonghwa’s brow furrowed momentarily at the question. “Only as a hobby really. I like to cook for myself and my family, but I’ve not worked in a kitchen like what you might have back there before.”

“There is a first time for everything,” San stated with a cocky grin. The furrow of Seonghwa’s brow deepened as he tried to understand the statement. Just as he did, the door suddenly opened as a tall, silver dyed young man walked into the eatery with a wide grin on his face.

“HALA date night! Oh, hello,” he said when he caught sight of Seonghwa. “Um, two things San, why don’t I hear a mess being made in the back?”

“Because I let the kid go. Turns out he was looking for an excuse.”

“Ah. So you’re already interviewing then?” the taller man inquired with a thumb jabbed in Hwa’s direction as he shook his jacket free.

“He’s not--” Seonghwa paused to turn sharply back to San with shock on his face. “Are you?”

“I might be trying. Honestly it depends on if you need a job and how well you can cook. Since we have all the makings for inkigayo and I know the group enjoys it, why don’t we see what you can do? Test you out by preparing a meal for a party of eight. How does that sound?” San offered as he stood up from his table to adjust his apron.

“I … wha--. You don’t even know my name yet.”

“Well, Choi San, owner and florist,” he repeated while pointing at himself with a little grin before gesturing again at the others.

“Kang Yeosang. I’m typically behind the counter, but I’ve been known to help in the kitchen if there’s a need of it.”

“I’m Jeong Yunho, artist, host, and like Yeosang, I sometimes help out in the kitchen. Mostly doing dishes, but if you were to ever need help, I know we could.”

“You are…?” San inquired with his hand extended for a shake.

“Park Seonghwa,” he said after a strained few seconds, taking the offered hand and giving it a small shake.

“Well, Park Seonghwa, what do you think?”

A slow, small smile broke across his face at the very thought. “I think I ought to see what you have in your kitchen.”

- + - + -

A frustrated growl filled the room as equally frustrated hands smoothed back fiery orange and red hair. No, he couldn’t look at this anymore and slumped into his chair to pivot away from the mannequin he was attempting to dress. Facing the wall that bore the name HALA Brand printed on it, Song Mingi sighed harshly while bringing his hands down his face.

“Haven’t heard you that frustrated in a while, captain,” came a voice from the other side of the room. Mingi turned to see his co-owner standing behind his own tastefully dressed mannequin.

“Now, why can’t I simply do something like that, Hongjoong?” he asked the newly blue haired individual.

“You’re thinking about it too much. Look, we’ve already started to make a name for ourselves, now we just have to let that breathe. Most important thing to remember is that you wanted to make this affordable. What you’re trying to build there is very … techwear,” Hongjoong stated with an honesty that Mingi knew was true, but didn’t want to actually hear out loud. “I know how badly you want to dress the industrial, Mangi, but we’re still trying to build our brand. You just have to give it some time.”

“Well … it’s actually something for myself, out of our leftover material, but I get your point. When did you get so wise, Hongjoong? You’re too young to be that wise,” Mingi jibed back with a giggle as he sat up straighter.

“I’m not that much older than you!”

“I know, that’s what worries me.” Both laughed at the comment, but the joyful moment was shattered as the door opened and their principal photographer came in with his hands full.

“Mingi.” He blanched at the tone. It wasn’t accusatory, it was worried. Worried was never good in this industry.

“No, Wooyoung, don’t you bring that tone in here.”

“But you need to see these, now,” Wooyoung stated as he splayed the photos in his hands on the nearby empty table. “Look,” he urged again before taking a seat in his own chair. Mingi heaved a heavy sigh and stood to see what his friend was talking about. His brow furrowed as he shifted the photos around.

“What…? I thought these looked good on the day?” he questioned, glancing at his favorite oreo haired friend before returning to the photos.

“They did, at the start. Most of these are from the second photographer. I guess there was no communication between them and I know you two were dressing models, I was helping with makeup. Jongho … was getting lunch for everyone when this happened. None of us had a chance to make sure they were being done correctly,” Wooyoung explained as he picked up one of the photos. Blurry and out of focus. Mingi was separating the blurry photos out before tossing them on the table.

“Fuck,” he cursed; not a rare occurrence by the smirks Hongjoong and Wooyoung shared. “How many of the photographs are like this?”

“About two thirds,” Wooyoung hated stating as hands went through his boss’ fiery hair.

“Brilliant, that’s more than half the clothes unable to be displayed,” Mingi huffed as he turned away from the table with one hand in his hair and the other on his hip. He knew his friends eyes were on him, but they said nothing. Mingi glanced at his mannequin when he heard the photos being shifted behind him. The idea suddenly struck him like lightning. “Is Jongho in?”

“Of course and just as pissed.”

“Okay, tell him to get his camera, grab your as well Wooyoung. Hongjoong and I will gather the outfits for the drop. We’re going to do this how we should have done it before.”

“Should have done what?” came a voice from the door. All three heads turned to see Jongho in the doorway.

“We should have done a guerrilla style photo shoot in the office from the get. You and Woo are getting your cameras and what doesn’t fit on any of you will fit on me. Three shots per outfit. Front, back, and a close up. The garments have already been photographed off the body, so we just need this. And we have a date tonight, so let’s get moving!” Mingi ordered and everyone fell in line. He glanced up just in time to see Jongho’s purple head duck back out and run across the frosted glass, followed quickly by Wooyoung.

- + - + -

San led Seonghwa back into the kitchen after the young man had taken his coat off. It was a pretty standard setup and was fairly intuitive; at least to him it was. “Pots and pans are under here, bowls and plates are up in the cabinets here with the cups and mugs on the end near the drink station,” San explained as he pointed everything out. It was a perfect size for two people and yet he noticed how small Seonghwa was trying to make himself. “Do you need us to do anything while you prepare?”

“Um, this party coming, what do they normally like to drink? Coffee or something else?”

“Americano’s are their number one, but if you make some boba ahead of time, they’ll drink it. None of them are particularly picky,” San stated, watching his potential hire look over the kitchen. He watched him think better about rolling up his sleeves no fewer than three times. San’s nose wrinkled with curiosity for a second or two, but he continued to show Seonghwa around the kitchen, even grabbing him an extra apron.

“I think if you were to start a fresh pot of coffee, I should be just fine on my own for now. I’ll give a shout if I need help,” Seonghwa offered with a grin.

“I will. Masks and gloves are by the sink in that corner and the refrigerators and freezers are pretty self explanatory. Have fun,” San grinned back before moving towards the coffee machine to make the requested pot. With his back to Seonghwa, he almost missed that nearly a full minute passed before he heard the faucet start to run. He emptied the baskets of both pots, but only got fresh grounds for one before turning to wash the carafe in his hands. Seonghwa was gloved and masked up, already moving around the kitchen with a kind of ease. San envied people at ease in the kitchen, among young men in Korea, it felt like a rare find. He set the carafe under running water and grabbed himself a mask while food was now moving about. Cleaning out the carafe, San caught glances from Seonghwa, but did his best to keep his questions to himself for the time being. He moved to replace the coffee pot when he noticed a flinch from his potential chef.

Part of San wanted to question it, but if it turned out that this young man wasn’t a good fit, it wouldn’t matter if he understood what had just happened. If it turned out that he worked well, then they would have time to get to know each other and he didn’t feel like over stepping boundaries so early in a relationship. With the carafe replaced, San hit the brew button and turned to leave. He and Seonghwa nearly collided as they both tried to move into the same space. The look of … fear on the pastel haired face was palpable and San let him take the space first before uttering a quiet, “Behind,” as he left the kitchen to the potential cook. Two curious faces greeted him as he threw the mask in the trash.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Yunho asked before Yeosang could open his mouth.

“No, but at this point, is it really going to hurt us?”

“You have just left a man who stated he’s never been in a kitchen like ours alone in your kitchen with little to no supervision,” Yeosang pointed out as he began to clean up the food Seonghwa left behind.

“I don’t think he’ll do anything untoward. Just be sure to announce yourself if you’re going to enter the kitchen. I can’t be sure, but he jumped like he was expecting me to do something. As for leaving him in their without supervision, we all came here with a fresh start in mind, maybe he did too,” San theorized as he moved to help Yunho with the tables. Together they abutted the two longest table for the eventual party of eight they would be having. As they began to set the chairs around the setup, San remembered something he was supposed to tell Yunho. “Oh yeah, he’s interested in Fragile, maybe you could talk to him about it?”

With a chair in hand, Yunho looked up to the piece on the wall with a content smile. “Mingi would honestly probably be okay if I tried to sell it, but if he’s like you think, I can certainly see why he likes it at least.” He set the chair down as Yeosang grabbed up the plate now that the tables were mostly set. “Oh Yeo, let me, I’ll ask him if he’d like to buy it,” Yunho stated as he ran to take the plate and boba cup from his friend.

Yeosang gave a quiet thanks as he handed the dishes off before turning back toward San. “What next?” he asked, his hands finding his pockets without anything to do. Just as the red head was about to open his mouth, the clatter of a bowl sounded from the kitchen. “Do you think it hit the floor?” Yeosang inquired over his shoulder.

“No. Sounded like it hit the counter. I told him to announce himself,” San stated with a chastising little grin.

“You really think he’s been through something terrible?” There was a tremor to Yeosang’s voice that brought San to a standstill.

“It’s hard to say, but he has some tendencies you see in how abuse victims are shown on television. Plus, it’s always warm in the kitchen and he wouldn’t roll up his sleeves in front of me.”

“So trying something new, but still being cautious about it. I can sympathize,” Yeosang remarked, his tone sad and prompting San to stalk over and wrap his arms around him. He tried to push his friend away, but failed and accepted the hug; even returning it.

“You don’t have to worry about that asshole ever again. You have scary dog privileges now. Jongho is terrifying,” San added with a giggle and a slight squeeze to Yeosang before letting him go.

“He isn’t that scary,” Yeosang quipped back when released. He gave a grin to San as he headed for the counter.

“Oh come on, you know he can be!” San laughed as he finished with the chairs. He thought over the unique man now cooking in his kitchen and sighed through his nose. Sure it was risky, but so was his business venture in the first place. He was never sure anything he was doing was right and in all honesty, he sometimes found himself wondering why he was doing this at all. San had once had the chance to be an idol, but after just a few months into training he couldn’t do it. The pressure of it had gotten to him and so he decided to turn to his second passion. San’s eyes darted to the back where his flower arrangements stood. The smile that broke his face a reminder of the very reason he eventually chose this line of work.

He quickly trotted to the back room to grab one of the arrangements for the table. San looked over the offerings that he was already planning on gifting the HALA boys when their first line officially dropped tomorrow. Humming as he picked two of the smaller ones, San made his way carefully back up the ramp to see Yeosang setting up the tables.

“Yunho is helping him learn the fryer. Spur of the moment soondae tempura. I know Jongho will be happy about that. It also looked like he was making something with whipped cream, so we might even have a sweet tonight,” Yeosang relayed as he paired each plate with silverware.

“Oh? I think I like him already,” San grinned as he carefully placed each arrangement on the tables. “You don’t think they’re too much, do you?”

“You know how much Wooyoung loves your flowers, what are you worried about?”

“Mingi?”

“Oh, come on. He’s a big softy, according to Jongho.”

“According to Hongjoong as well. Maybe a little lonely, but a big softy,” Yunho stated as he rejoined his business partners.

San hummed as he pulled out a chair to sit in while they waited for the rest of their party to show up. “What’s your verdict so far?”

“He’s a quick learner, picked up the fryer pretty easily, but I think you’re right. He’s been through something pretty terrible. I still managed to startle him more than once and he … he pulled back like he was waiting for me to … I don’t know, hit him or something. He’s going to need kid gloves San, if you do decide to hire him,” Yunho explained as he also chose to sit at the table.

“Well, I guess we’ll see how he handles clients when the boys get here, won’t we?” They all nodded and fell into a comfortable silence while Seonghwa continued to cook away in the kitchen.

Chapter Text

After a manic, but hard worked hour, the four partners of HALA Brand collapsed into their seats. Each wore a playful smile as Mingi suddenly burst into a fit of laughter. “Did we really just do that?” Happy tears found his eyes as he spoke. “A quick, dirty, and amazing office shoot is going to turn out better than the professional one we tried?”

“That shows us to doubt the talent we have on staff,” Jongho stated plainly, pitching the room into a soft silence. Everyone looked at him; stiff as a board and unable to believe he had said that out loud.

“Too right, Jongho. I will not be making that mistake again,” Mingi admitted with a small bow of his head towards the youngest partner. For a few seconds it looked as if Jongho didn’t know what to do with himself before a shy grin broke his face and he returned the bow.

“So long as we can get the right picks from this shoot done before noon tomorrow, it will be an outrageous success,” Wooyoung mused from his seat, still dressed in the active wear fit he had last taken photos in. “I’m just glad we were able to talk you into one of the last fits, Mingi. The whole crew deserves to be recognized.”

“Especially its lead designer,” Hongjoong added from his left. Mingi gave a hearty yet playful laugh.

“Okay, okay, I get the hint, I’ll be a little more involved in the photos from here on out. I’ll probably be in early to start going through our pictures, but that’s not an invitation,” he added, pointing at his photographers. “You all have date night plans and I am not infringing on those plans.” Mingi pushed up from his seat and began to clean up some of their mess. “Why don’t you get changed and then we can be off?” Three versions of the same question were asked at once and Mingi could only laugh. The other’s joined in his laughter when they all realized what had happened. “I don’t see why you can’t wear them out. Perks of working for the company right? You can help me clean up then,” he added when the laughter died down.

Jongho stood in his business casual that Mingi suddenly thought was perfect for a date night. His brain then started to draft up designs for date night before he shook his head to help his team get the garments back on the racks. “Is everyone ready for date night?” he questioned, honestly curious about his friends.

“Always!” exclaimed Wooyoung as he replaced a hanger.

“Mmhmm or … I will be when we get there. It’s been a while since Yunho and I got together and mmm I’m feeling it tonight. I do think he wishes we were more like WooSan over there, but I’m still just here for the casual fuck every now and then,” Hongjoong stated with a nod at one half of the couple.

“Not everyone can be me and San. It’s good to keep your options open, or in his case, take an eternity,” Wooyoung jibed at Jongho; who threw a not so playful punch into his arm.

“Yeosang and I are very happy.”

“I … I know. I’m sorry … I guess I’m still learning to understand things.”

“We all are,” Hongjoong added. “I’m learning what makes me happy. Which Yunho does make me very happy and I can understand why you and him were together, Mingi, but he’s amazing and I still cannot understand how or why you let him go,” he mused as he smoothed the fitted turtleneck sweater he wore while Mingi grinned, but chose not to rise to the inquiry.

“Even I’m learning what it means to be asexual. So don’t worry Wooyoung, we’re all learning,” Jongho repeated the general sentiment before turning to Mingi. “It’s him we should worry about.”

“Me? What’s wrong with me?”

“You have no one,” Hongjoong quipped quickly, earning nods from the other two and pulling a blush to the surface.

“I like being around my friends when they’re having a good time. Who cares if I don’t have a date yet?”

“We do,” Wooyoung spoke before anyone else could. “We all know you’ve had multiple offers; men and women alike, but without so much as a date, you’ve turned them all down. Even Yunho. How did you lose him?”

“I’m with Wooyoung,” Hongjoong stated quietly, giving Woo a playful smirk. Mingi looked between the November born of his partners before Jongho drew his eyes with a look that asked him, Et tu Brute?

“I know I’m hardly one to talk, but … yeah, me too. We love that you’re here for all of us and while we can be there for you, we can’t be there in every aspect. And I’m not just talking sexual,” Jongho added as he put his last few hangers on the rack.

“If you all must know, their personalities failed to inspire. Every. Single. One of them,” Mingi stated plainly, causing mass confusion amongst his design partners. Faltering slightly under Hongjoong’s eyes as the question of ‘Really?’ was in those deep brown orbs. “Okay, Yunho didn’t fail to inspire but as we grew closer, I realized he wasn’t … right for me. So we make better friends than lovers,” he explained, giving the group a little more insight into how he worked as an individual.

“So you know within the first words words of speaking with someone, if you’ll like them or not?” Hongjoong questioned.

“That’s the best way I’ve figured out how to put it. I’ve found out that if I don’t almost immediately begin to design something personal for them, the relationship just doesn’t last. Yunho was different though. Like I said, we just matched better as friends,” he explained while moving to take the last outfit from Hongjoong’s hands and placing it on the rack. “So, now that that’s out of the way, what do you say we get this date night underway?”

“More like voyeur night for you,” Wooyoung giggle as he dodge the playful punch coming from Mingi while Jongho opened the door for everyone to leave.

“Bite me, Woo.”

“Where and how hard, captain,” he giggled again, not quick enough this time to dodge Mingi’s fist.

“You’re such a pain. You’re lucky I like you,” Mingi grinned, wrapping his arm around Wooyoung as Hongjoong and Jongho laughed at the sight. The whole group continued to rib each other as they made their way toward the elevator.

- + - + -

Seonghwa tossed the spoon he used to taste his improved potato and egg mixture for the inkigayo in the sink. He let out a pleasant hum and replaced his mask with a smile. Now it was just a matter of assembly; one of his favorite things to do. He moved quickly thankfully without the knowledge of being watched from the lobby. The song coming through the speakers changed and brought a wider smile to his face. It might have had lyrics once, but he would recognize BTS anywhere. As if he had done this his whole life, the sandwiches came together rather easily. He wrapped each one in paper and gave a quick glance outside. Still only three in the lobby, so he wouldn’t cut them just yet. The more perfect they are, the happier he’ll be, he thought to himself, only to stand stock still a second after.

“They aren’t Marcus,” Seonghwa forced himself to say aloud. “They are not Marcus. They don’t require perfection from you,” he whispered to himself. He closed his eyes and whispered the mantra again, doing his best to calm his suddenly rapid heart. A soft knock sounded at the entrance to the kitchen and pulled him back into the moment as he turned to look San in the eyes.

“The rest of them are about ten minutes out. You okay?” the red head inquired, his head tilting inquisitively.

“Me? Oh yeah, I’m fine. Just making a mental list that I’ve done everything that I need to,” he lied. “Ten minutes though? Okay, I’ll wash up, then put the soondae down for a quick second fry.” Even as he turned away to go about his business, Seonghwa still felt eyes upon him.

“Shout if you need a hand then,” San offered after a moment, patting the door frame before stepping back out of view. Seonghwa gave an unsteady breath as he mentally prepared himself to be judged by seven complete strangers. He moved to the sink, removed his gloves and looked at the door one more time before rolling up his sleeves to wash the dirty dishes in the sink. Seonghwa was quick and efficient after years of unfortunate practice. He pulled his sleeves back down when he was done and quickly slid on another pair of gloves. Seonghwa moved nearly effortlessly around the kitchen as he placed the soondae back in the basket and set it down for one last quick fry up. The knife slid through the inkigayo like butter. With crackle and pop of the fryer and the sound in his own mind, Seonghwa never heard the front door open with a boisterous greeting as the ten minutes had passed.

It wasn’t until he was placing the sandwiches on a tray that he heard the extra voices. They all sounded so happy. It left a pang of jealousy on his heart. He shook his head and tried to put the jealousy to rest. “Time, Seonghwa. All you need is time,” he reminded himself as he grabbed the tray to bring out. With a pause and steadying breath, Seonghwa brought the tray out into the lobby and all seven heads turned his way. His step faltered for a few seconds, but he quickly plastered a smile on his face; hidden by the mask as it was, and moved forward.

“Oh that looks amazing,” came praise from San as he set the tray in the middle of the two tables. Everyone else leaned in and gave their own bits of praise as a couple of those he didn’t know grabbed a half sandwich each.

“I hope everyone enjoys,” Seonghwa stated, hating the waver in his voice.

“I’m sure we will,” said the young man with fiery hair. He gave a nervous smile at the praise before standing back up straight.

“Why don’t you bring out the rest, then we’ll do introductions?” San suggested as he gestured to the rest of the group. Seonghwa gave a nod before making his way back into the kitchen.

- + - + -

Mingi’s eyes followed the figure all the way back to the kitchen before returning to San. “So you really already have a new cook?” he inquired as he looked at the bisection of the sandwich. A thick layer of jam on one side and a potato and egg mixture that didn’t ooze out of the sandwich nor look so dry that he would need to wash it down with a drink. “Whoa.”

“Not officially yet, but I can tell you that this looks so much better than anything any of my other cooks ever tried to make. Oof,” San added when Wooyoung leaned heavily into his chest. He pressed a quick kiss to the top of his boyfriend’s head before pushing Woo back up so he could grab himself a half sandwich.

The captain of HALA Brand grinned as he pealed back the paper to take a bite and his brow furrowed in disbelief. He covered his mouth as he chewed and locked eyes with San. A slow smile formed under his hand as Jongho perked up to see what the cook was bringing in. Mingi swallowed his bite and took a peek. “Well that should make you very happy,” he quipped to the youngest and watched as one of the plates was scooted a little closer toward Jongho. He cast a curious glance to the pastel haired man; still hiding behind his mask, as he started for the kitchen once more.

“Seonghwa, why don’t you sit and enjoy this with us, the dishes can wait,” San stated as Mingi took a second bite and hummed. The hums weren’t just from him, but the whole group.

“I have just a couple more things to bring out, then I’ll sit, I promise.” The tone caught Mingi by surprise and he found his eyes on the young man once more. He wasn’t sure exactly what sounded off about his tone, but it stuck in his brain.

“Yunho, will you help him so he can actually enjoy this fantastic meal he’s prepared for us with us?”

“Yep,” Yunho confirmed before sucking the jam from his thumb as he stood. He ran his fingers through Hongjoong’s hair as he passed and followed this Seonghwa into the kitchen.

“This is really good,” Mingi stated as he used chopsticks to pick up a couple pieces of soondae.

“Mmm, if you don’t hire him, love, you are insane,” Wooyoung said from his place in San’s lap.

“Will you sit up a bit so you don’t die choking?” San asked as he tried to move his boyfriend.

“Hmm, true. You know I’d much rather die choking on something else.”

“Wooyoung!” came Hongjoong’s voice before anyone else could react and broke the whole table into a fit of laughter.

“Who are we laughing at?” Yunho asked as he set down his platter of drinks and started to hand them out.

“WooSan,” Yeosang giggled as he pointed to the newly adjusted pair; one of whom was terribly red in the face.

“I will get you for that at home,” San threatened, poking Wooyoung in the kidney and earning a squeal in response. Yunho giggled at the noise as he placed the seven Americanos down.

“Nothing for himself?” San inquired curiously as Yunho moved to place the platter on another table for now.

“He said he was fine,” he shrugged before taking his place beside Hongjoong once again.

At that moment the figure exited the kitchen again with two plates, but these were filled with the softest looking sweets. Cream and fruit sandwiches. One looked like strawberries and the other was yellow, maybe mango, Mingi thought as the plates were set in the middle of the tables.

“Will you be joining us now?” Mingi found himself asking as he shifted to push the last empty chair out. He gestured to it when the cook didn’t move. If he didn’t know any better, Mingi would have thought that the young man was stalling before he finally moved to the seat and took his mask off. Mingi’s eyes flicked to his jawline and followed those hands as they didn’t pick up anything to eat just yet.

“Let’s start with some introductions, this--ugh,” San started when his boyfriend suddenly shifted against him to wave at Seonghwa and placed his elbow directly into San’s stomach.

“Jung Wooyoung and I’ll be hurting him later if he doesn’t offer you this job before we leave today.”

“Move your elbow!” San exclaimed with a giggle as he adjust his oreo haired boyfriend. “That there is my little brother.”

“San, please don’t confuse him this early,” Jongho stated plainly, a piece of soondae abandoned with a huff. The table once again erupted in raucous laughter. “I’m Choi Jongho, but we’re no relation. He just enjoys teasing me,” Jongho explained once the laughter quieted. He took up the tempura and hurled it at San, instead hitting Wooyoung.

“I do,” San stated mid-deep belly laugh. “It’s a highlight of my day when I can do that. You’re next.”

Hongjoong coughed as they waited on him to finish his mouthful of food. “You would point at me when my mouth is full. Kim Hongjoong and this--” he paused to swallow again. “This is so good,” he punctuated his point by taking another bite of his sandwich.

Mingi gave a grin in Hongjoong’s direction before turning his gaze to the chef. His smile broadened as he raised his sandwich with its own missing bites. “He’s not wrong, this is very good. I’m Song Mingi and this very hungry bunch are my business partners,” he explained as he picked up a piece of tempura with his chopsticks. The light pink of the chef’s hair caught the overhead lights as he bowed at each introduction. By his facial features alone, Mingi could tell he had a model’s physique. A jawline and neck simply waiting to be photographed. The tightness of his clothes gave a decent idea of the line the rest of his body would give. He gave a quiet hum as lines began to form in his head.

“Well, I’m Park Seonghwa and I’m truly grateful that you all enjoy the food. I enjoyed cooking it,” he said and Mingi could have sworn he heard a tremor in that voice. He cast a quick glance at San with curiosity in his eyes, but any question he wanted to ask was cut off by Seonghwa asking his own. “May I ask what business you’re in?”

“Fashion. We are HALA Brand. Hearts Awakened, Live Alive is what it stands for,” Mingi offered when he saw the look on the cook’s face. “We’re hoping it’s going to be a successful gender neutral fashion company. Hongjoong helps me design most of the clothes--”

“No, I … well yes, but mostly I just keep you from going too industrial too quickly and he keeps me from going avant garde,” Hongjoong interrupted with a grin that Mingi returned.

“True, he does. We’re hoping to make affordable clothing that anyone would feel comfortable wearing. Wooyoung and Jongho are marketing and photographers. And I think,” he paused to look around at his three partners. “Every stitch they are wearing right now is from the winter line that drops tomorrow. My mother thinks I’m a little crazy for trying this, but I told her that sometimes you have to be,” Mingi explained before finally putting the tempura in his mouth.

Watching as Seonghwa glanced around the table, Mingi found himself lost in thought over the cut of his jaw when those dark eyes landed back on him. “From what I see, you have quite the creative depth. It’s never easy going after one’s dreams, I wish you the best of luck. What does Hearts Awakened, Live Alive mean though?” Seonghwa inquired thoughtfully, still not having reached out for any of the food he had prepared, almost like he hadn’t prepared any for himself.

“Well … the world has been feeling very oppressive and dark recently. Like you can’t escape hearing about someone that’s been murdered over nothing or worse. Tragedy after tragedy, small and large. It feels like we’ve been steadily growing numb to it for so long that it hardly seems to phase most when they hear about them now. The world, our lives, should not have to be like that. This is not something we should be used to. It should devastated us and yet it doesn’t. My hope is that somehow our clothes help someone else live their most authentic life, however they choose to. That somehow our hearts wake back up and we can truly live our best and help others to do the same,” Mingi explained as he spoke to the whole table. His eyes wandered every face with a sad smile on his lips. They had all faced their fair share of tragedy and he wanted them to know that they should be celebrated.

“That sounds like the worthiest cause,” Seonghwa stated quietly, bringing all eyes to him. He wasn’t looking up but Mingi watched as he wiped a tear away before meeting his eyes. “I like the name a lot and the reasoning behind it. It’s comforting to know that someone still cares about the stranger when so many couldn’t care less.”

“With so many of us being outside the norm, we felt that Mingi’s idea was a great one. From us at HALA to here at the Destiny. It’s something we’re all proud to be a part of,” Jongho voiced from the far end of the table as he wrapped an arm around Yeosang; who carefully leaned into the gesture.

Mingi watched as Seonghwa once again let his eyes wander the group as if trying to pick out what Jongho meant. “It was definitely something we didn’t need to think about too much. That mission statement has been on my mind since I was a teen,” Mingi admitted with a grin.

“Speaking of not needing to put too much thought into things, Seonghwa, how would you like the job?” San asked nonchalantly. The pastel haired young man balked at the sudden question as his gaze snapped from Mingi to San.

“What?”

“I think we’re all in agreement that this is some of the best, if not the best food made in my establishment, right?” San posed to the group as Hongjoong was reaching out to grab the other half of his inkigayo. Jongho had cleared at least of fourth of the soondae from the plate near him and Wooyoung was nodding furiously with his mouth full of tempura. Most of the drinks were down by half as were most of the sandwiches. Yeosang and Yunho had both grabbed a half of the cream and fruit treat and were part way through them when they nodded in response. Mingi raised his nearly empty Americano to the pastel haired chef and swore he could only see confusion on Seonghwa’s face. “So with everyone in agreement, it only makes sense to hire you.”

“I … I have no formal training or schooling. Are you sure you want to trust me with your kitchen?”

“Right now, I don’t think there’s anyone else I’d rather trust with my kitchen. I didn’t start this business with any schooling either. Just a dream, hence its name, Accidental Destiny. I stumbled into this path and found I really enjoyed it. I still do. So I’ve been surrounding myself with people that also enjoy it and are willing to take their own chance on it. Willing to expand and try new things, like Yunho sharing his art here and Yeosang with his passion for color. With your knowledge of food, just from what we’ve tasted here, I think you would be a wonderful addition.” Mingi watched Seonghwa as San spoke. A number of emotions crossed the young man’s face and he found himself wondering why so many of them looked negative. It wasn’t a question for their first meeting, so he locked it away for another time.

Seonghwa seemed to think it over before speaking about a minute later. “I am in desperate need of a job. I just never thought it would be this.”

“Well then, welcome to your own Accidental Destiny, Park Seonghwa.”

Chapter Text

A cold wind blew in as San escorted the last customer out himself. “Ah~ it’s cold, stay warm out there!” he told them before locking the door behind them. He returned the wave given to him by the regulars and smiled as he turned back to move about and clean the dining room of the few plates left behind. He was humming with the instrumental still playing over the speakers when something caught his attention. Seonghwa was pacing back and forth through the kitchen. With plates in hand, he stood there a moment and just watched his cook. Seonghwa had hit the ground running when he started working and San felt like he hadn’t really stopped at all. Here they were in the middle of December now and he was beginning to worry about his new hire. Not that he had made a mistake, but that Seonghwa was in an unhealthy place mentally. It still felt wrong to try and ask him about it, but the lunch rush today was nearly a disaster. San sighed softly to himself at the thought as he brought the plates to the kitchen.

“Aya~” he singsonged as he hip checked the counter on his way. With a hiss, San checked his hip before looking up to see Seonghwa staring at him, frozen. He gave a bow of his head and it took his chef a few seconds to reciprocate it. Knowing he would likely have a small bruise, San carefully pressed into the kitchen, not wanting to crowd Seonghwa as he moved to the sink. “I thought I nearly lost you during the lunch rush today,” he stated as he placed the dishes in the basin.

“I thought you had too,” Seonghwa affirmed quietly before changing tone as he continued. “But I think I recovered okay. …right?” The question pulled San’s face into a pout as he ran water over the dishes. It wasn’t the first time that Seonghwa had sought recognition for his deeds, but he only let the question hang in the air just a minute. While they hadn’t been working together long, San already knew a few quirks about his cook. Answer too quickly and he would get nervous, answer after too long a wait and he would get scared. San was still trying to find a safe middle ground that didn’t trigger either reaction.

“I was honestly impressed by your recovery. I know it’s not easy being the only two in the building, but I know you reacted better than I did the first time that happened to me. Had to close the doors early and honestly thought about never opening them up again,” San explained with a giggle as the memory surfaced.

“Unfortunately … I have a lot of, um, practice under pressure. Not this particular pressure, but high tense situations all the same,” Seonghwa replied as he shifted to lean against the counter top. The honesty in his voice caught San by surprise. It was the most honest he had heard his chef so far and thankfully the wait hadn’t trigger the fear response he was used to getting.

“I think Yunho may be the least stressed out of the four of us, but we’re all here for each other. A shoulder to lean on, an ear to talk off, that kind of thing,” he said, turning the water off and turning to face Seonghwa; who was running a nervous hand through his fading pink hair.

“He does feel effortless. I’m jealous.” Seonghwa balked at his own words as he covered his mouth with his eyes wide in shock. San gave a playful grin as he moved toward the lobby.

“Don’t worry, Hwa, I’m jealous of him myself sometimes,” he admitted as he passed, his eyes wandering over the tables to make sure he didn’t leave anything behind that needed to be washed. There were muffled words behind him before he heard the water start up as Seonghwa began to wash the dishes. Satisfied he got everything, San turned to watch his new hire. He was stiff when he knew he was being watched and San found himself wondering what happened to make him like that. A quiet groan climbed up his throat as he bit his lip to keep the question locked up for now. “When you’re done with that, why don’t you head on home?” San suddenly offered as the last few dishes were being scrubbed.

“What?” Seonghwa asked over his shoulder, stilling as the water kept flowing.

“I said, when you’re done with those, why don’t you head on home?” he repeated after moving closer to be heard over the running water.

“No, I can help with the cleaning.”

“I know you can, Seonghwa, but you’ve been working yourself to the bone since I hired you. The last thing I want is for you to burn yourself out. It started when I hired you and now we’re two weeks away from Christmas. I can see that pattern starting up again. I want you to take a couple days to relax. Okay?” San expressed as Seonghwa turned off the water to listen to him, but not look at him. He watched his chef’s face process what he had said.

“I’m fine, San. I really am.”

“I don’t doubt that you are, but I’m worried about you all the same. I won’t be here all alone for long if that’s what you’re worried about. Wooyoung will be here soon,” he explained softly, just seeing the change in Seonghwa’s body as he stood there.

“I … I know I messed up today and I’m sorry--”

“No, no. Seonghwa,” San interrupted a little louder than he wanted. “I’m not firing you. I’m worried about you, I … Seonghwa, would you look at me please?” he asked softly, adjusting his tone and pointing to himself. The waiting was always the worst part. Waiting for the request to be acknowledge, but San was nothing if not patient; especially with his friends. When Seonghwa finally did as asked, he continued, “I am not firing you. I’m very worried about you. Today was wake up call for both of us. I need to be more conscious of noticing how hard you’ve been working and schedule you some more time off. So … take a couple days to rest, recharge, and relax, okay?” San’s tone was soft, not unlike the tone he used in the bedroom with Wooyoung; only not as sultry. He didn’t want to speak at Seonghwa but with him and he wanted him to know that.

Seonghwa’s eyes searched San’s face for something but when he didn’t find it, the stiffness vanished and a very tired young man stood before San. “Okay. Um … you can call if you absolutely need me, okay?”

“Hopefully I won’t need to, but I will if I have to. Take care of yourself, Seonghwa.”

“I’m trying.” The words fell out of his mouth before he could stop them and San could see that plainly on his face. He watched the young man sharply move to leave the kitchen in response to his own words. San’s hand immediately went to his face and he stood there for a minute. This sadly wasn’t new to him. He remembered how Yeosang had been after they had finally gotten him away from his ex. Yeo wasn’t to Hwa’s severity, but he could see the similarities. They were going to need more than kid gloves here, he thought to himself as he left the kitchen. San heard the rustling from the back where Seonghwa was likely putting his coat on. “Do you need me to call you a cab?” he hollered down the hall just as Seonghwa was coming out of the backroom.

“No, I’ll be fine. I have plenty of layers,” came a rather quiet answer as he walked by San without looking at him.

“If you’re sure,” San said as he sighed through his nose softly as his chef reached and unlocked the door. Seonghwa was ready to pull the door open but paused before glancing over his shoulder in San’s direction.

“Thank you for the offer though. I’ll see you in a couple days,” he said before stepping out into the cold. San stood there for a moment, watching Seonghwa through the frosted glass before jogging to the door and braving the cold to keep his friend in sight. He knew he could get attached quickly and was pretty sure that’s what was happening in this moment. San watched as Seonghwa moved with an almost lazy purpose. The young man knew exactly where he was going and he sincerely hoped he would be okay.

“Babe, you’ll catch your death of cold from being out here in that,” came a recognized voice behind him. San pouted in Seonghwa’s direction but his lips turned to grin at Wooyoung just coming into the light of his storefront. “What are you doing out here without a jacket? It’s freezing,” Wooyoung pointed out in a pouty tone that San could only grin wider at.

“We had better get inside then,” San teased as he re-entered the Destiny with Wooyoung on his heels. His fiance hung off him as he locked the door again. He stood there in the door with Wooyoung resting his head on his shoulder and his arms locked around San. “How was the fashion industry today?” he asked; almost absentmindedly, while his eyes tried to focus through the frost to see where Seonghwa had vanished behind the next building.

“Pretty good. I took some amazing shots of the group. We wore colors today. Not just a sprinkling in with the black either. I mean red, green, silver and gold were the primary colors of these fits. We looked strange and fantastic for the holiday pictures. I pity whomever Mingi ends up picking because he looked like a snack in that red today,” Wooyoung giggled as he gave San a squeeze. When he didn’t get the reaction he wanted, his brow furrowed and he glanced up to see San still looking out the window. He followed the line of sight to nothing and stood up straight behind his future husband. “San?”

“Hmm?”

“You okay?”

“Me? I’m okay, why?”

“You didn’t hear me, did you?”

“No, I did. My mind is just … worried about Seonghwa, that’s all,” San admitted, not entirely happy that his brain processed a little differently than others.

“What about him has you worried, love?” Wooyoung inquired as he finally detached himself from San. He turned to watch his oreo haired lover shift away to get comfortable as he sat himself on a table to listen to the tea. San gave a small huff as he tried to put his thoughts together. “Is he doing okay at least? Like settling in and everything?” Wooyoung asked as he slipped the shoulders of his puffy jacket down and let the jacket pool on his arms.

“I’d say he’s settling in okay, but as for how he’s doing…,” San sighed as he contemplated even trying to explain his thoughts to Wooyoung. Some secrets he could keep, but other’s he had a very hard time holding in. Though San knew if he kept it to himself, his own mental health would suffer for it. “Do you remember how Yeosang was when we finally talked him into leaving the ex?” The color drained from Wooyoung’s face as San watched him look for Seonghwa himself. “He’s a lot worse than that, Woo.”

“Oh no. Oh … that poor kid … young man, have you talked to him about it?”

“No. I … I wouldn’t know where to start. He barely talks about himself and what I do know, you can see on his face that he regrets he said anything the instant he’s said it. He’s shrinks from loud voices and … I’m really fucking worried about him,” San explained as he moved toward Wooyoung; who opened his arms to welcome the red head into a hug.

“Have you told him you’re worried at least?”

“I did tonight. He worked himself to the bone throughout November and I can see it starting up again as Christmas comes closer. His work is incredible just going from the profits we’ve made in the month I’ve had him, but…. Something truly terrible happened to him and I’m not sure he’s seeking help for it yet,” he huffed into Wooyoung’s hair. He grunted as his fiance brought him in for a tight hug.

“You’ve told him you’re worried, so that should help, right?”

“Well it did something. It was like he couldn’t quite understand what I was saying. He expected me to angry or upset, I think, and when I wasn’t he thought I was firing him. When I finally got him to listen to what I was saying, he finally understood. I hope anyway. So I’m either going to be seen as really weird, or someone he can actually trust,” San frowned.

“It helps that you already are really weird.”

“Hey.” San playfully jabbed the photographer in the rubs.

"I’m your fiance, San. I’m allowed to say these things about you,” Wooyoung pointed out as he buried his face into San’s chest. He wrapped his arms around Wooyoung’s shoulders in a hug. Even though he knew so little about Seonghwa, he knew that tonight was the night his soul claimed the pastel haired man as a good friend. It pained him to think that something truly terrible had happened to him, worse to not know exactly what had happened. “I know, San.” Wooyoung patted his back when San realized he was hugging his fiance rather tight.

“Sorry. I guess I’m … more worried than I thought I was.”

“I know. He’ll likely speak on it one day, but he just needs time to get there. Then you’ll be able to understand. You just have to be--”

“Patient?” San finished and pulled a giggle from Wooyoung as he created space between them to look his fiance in the face.

“I know, it is literally the worst thing I could ask of you, but you know it’s the right thing to do,” Wooyoung explained before pressing a kiss to San’s collar. With a groan, the red head leaned into the kiss and curled around Woo. It was almost like a super power he had. Defusing the tension of the moment with something as innocent as a single kiss. San hummed as he remained curled around Wooyoung for a moment.

“You know what, you’re right. I’ve let him know and that’s the best that I can do right now. The cleaning can wait. Why don’t we go to my office?” San offered, his voice dropping an octave as a playful look came over Wooyoung’s face. Yes, Woo had quite the superpower over his fiance.

Chapter Text

With his fingers steepled in front of his face, Mingi observed the fabric draped on the mannequin. A breathable satin on top of the most flexible sheer mesh he’d ever had the pleasure of working with. The pants were going to be tailored with the same mesh that was under the top but would be over the pants in a three quarter high-low skirt. He found himself wondering if gold or silver accents would be best and never heard the door open.

“Well now,” Hongjoong stated, startling Mingi out of his own head. “Who are you making that for?” The knowing tone in that question hit Mingi like a ton of bricks as he turned away from the partially dressed mannequin. Hongjoong’s hair was overly vibrant with the wonderful blue once again and it brought a smile to the captain’s face.

“I see Yunho was busy last night,” he tried to deflect as he stood to hide the mannequin from view.

“Yes he was, but you didn’t answer my question. Who’s that piece for?” Hongjoong probed again as he pressed further into the room to gaze at the piece despite Mingi doing his best to hide it.

“Um, no one. Just getting a jump on the new year drop,” he lied; poorly, as he felt his ears go red. He finally stood out of the way when Hongjoong; who had pulled up a chair to sit near his boss, was close enough that he couldn’t hide it anymore.

“You mean the drop that isn’t until February and whose completed designs have already been sent out for production? That line?” Hongjoong teased as he bumped Mingi in the hip with an elbow. “Come on, who is it for?” he inquired a final time. Fading fiery hair was tossed as Mingi ran a hand through it. The lead designer looked over his shoulder at the mannequin before turning partially to it and delighting in the inspiration he still felt from it … from him.

“Okay, okay. It’s … it’s the first inspiration I got from Seonghwa.” Mingi stayed looking at the piece before him and saw Hongjoong slowly entering his field of view at his right. His mouth was open in disbelief.

“Wait. Really? Song Mingi, are you telling me you found a personality that inspires?”

“I’m just personalizing clothes.”

“No, no, no. This—” Hongjoong pointed at the mannequin with a finger while gesturing with his whole hand in his excitement. “This is building a fit from the ground up. That is not just personalizing clothes like you’ve done for yourself or the rest of us and those at the Destiny. You, Song Mingi, got inspired, just like you said you could!” Hongjoong giggled as he jostled his boss and bounced in his seat.

“Shh,” Mingi hissed as he tried to cover Hongjoong’s mouth with his hand. He was grinning as well, but Hongjoong was wily as he quieted his volume down.

“Okay, okay. I’ll keep quiet about it, but that is amazing.”

“I know that we don’t know him that well, but he certainly has a body that inspires. I just need to get to know him better. I was thinking I might take a late lunch there, San said he should be back today,” Mingi mused as his eyes drifted back to the mannequin, mind playing with the barely there layout for a moment.

“And what if he isn’t there?” Hongjoong asked in a soft but knowing tone.

Mingi sighed a little as his shoulders dropped slightly. He heard Hongjoong’s mouth open but no words came before he turned around to look at him. “Yunho?”

“Yeah. Apparently he called out this morning and asked for at least another day.”

“Hmm. Did he say why he took a few days?”

“Yunho says San suggested he take some time. He didn’t want him to burn himself out. Which we all saw nearly happen during November, especially when he learned when mine and Wooyoung’s birthdays were. San was pretty worried he was getting back into that pattern with the holidays coming up,” Hongjoong explained as he leaned against the table.

“Ah, okay, I can see why San would suggest the time off then. The food was amazing, no lie, but he looked worn to a frazzle, didn’t he?” Mingi said as he recalled the look of Seonghwa throughout much of the month, but especially at the end of November.

“He did,” Hongjoong fell quiet as Mingi moved toward the mannequin again. “Be careful with him, okay?”

“Well … I’m always careful, but do you mean be especially careful with him?”

“Mmhmm,” Hongjoong hummed as he sat back up properly in his chair. “San has suggested treating him with kid gloves.”

“Oh? Did he give a reason why?” Mingi pouted as he continued to try and get the drape just right along the hips.

“Not really. Or at least Wooyoung didn’t say whether or not he had good reason to say that. I think he might have reached that kind of protective he gets over his friends,” Hongjoong mused as he watched his boss work.

“He does get rather protective, it’s one of the great things about him. Maybe we can ask when we go to lunch later”

- + - + -

An unexpectedly busy schedule kept Mingi and the rest of the HALA crew from visiting the Destiny for nearly two weeks. Only now; a few days before the Christmas celebrations, did any of them have the time to visit. As he waited in line at the cafe, Mingi thought back about the blur the last two weeks had been. A whirlwind and flurry of activity as HALA were commissioned for a set of three outfits made in house for Holland. The idol had been an incredible pleasure to work with as he had been turned down by a number of other brands before they found each other. Mingi thought him to be a delightful pleasure to work with and disliked the nature of so many other brands that had turned Holland away because of his sexuality, but he was exactly the kind of person HALA was founded on helping. These last two weeks had put their mission statement to work and Mingi could not have been more proud of the way his team had delivered. Mingi hadn’t even realized he was next in line until San spoke. “Mingi, it’s good to see you,” the redhead said from behind the register when he made it to the front of the line.

“Oh … I need to pay attention more. San, good to see you too. Been too long. So sorry about that. Been a busy day?” Mingi asked as he nodded over his shoulder at the crowded dining room.

“Um, yes and no. We’re a little behind, but don’t worry about the missed time. Youngie told me about what you lot were doing. I can’t wait to see the pictures.”

“Behind? Did he call out again?” he inquired softly as the garment bag in his hands slipped from his shoulder, his eyes glancing into the kitchen where he saw both Yeosang and Yunho doing their best to keep up with the flurry of before Christmas orders.

“He did and he didn’t sound well. I’m honestly really, really worried about him, but I can’t get away until we close. Do you think you could check on him, let him know that we’re thinking about him?” San was pleading with Mingi, looking up at him with these big puppy dog eyes that Wooyoung would never once be able to say no to … and Mingi couldn’t either; but then he was going to make the suggestion himself.

“Of course, I was about to say the same thing, so what are friends for. Um, I might as well take him something to eat, right? Make it two bulgogi sandwiches and his favorite boba,” Mingi ordered as he shifted to grab his wallet. He heard San confirm his order as he hooked the garment bag on his collar so he could grab his card and looked up just in time to see Yunho and Yeosang waving at him from the kitchen. He smiled and waved back before paying. Mingi bowed slightly to the couple behind him as he stood off to the side to be out of the way. He heard San apologize to the same couple and excuse himself a moment as he moved back into the kitchen. Whatever he did took only a few seconds and he was back out taking orders again.

Mingi waited patiently for his food, once again adjusting the garment bag over his shoulder. His mind drifted to the outfit inside it and he smiled to himself. Mingi was proud of the fit, even if it wasn’t to Seonghwa’s exact measurements, but that could be easily remedied with a simple fitting.

“Minmin,” came Yunho’s voice, using the familiar nickname to pull him out of his own head. He looked up and moved closer as beckoned. “There’s a slip of paper between the sandwiches, it has his address, please don’t lose it,” his ex whispered so as not to be heard by anyone else.

“Oh perfect, Yunho, thank you. Thank you!” he repeated, calling the last part out loud enough to be heard by Yeosang still working in the kitchen as more orders were coming through. Mingi waved at San as he made to leave, exiting out into the cold, late December air once more. The paper came loose easily and Mingi glanced up. “Lucky man, he doesn’t live far from work,” he mused to himself as he set off in Seonghwa’s direction. In the cold, he counted himself lucky that he didn’t need to go far, but thankfully the walk would keep him warm.

Little more than five minute passed by the time Mingi reached Seonghwa’s apartment complex. A light snow had started as he approached the door, being held open by a young woman. He gave her a bow as he entered the lobby. “Welcome, where may I direct you today?” she asked as she made her way back behind the desk.

“I’m looking for Park Seonghwa. His boss sent me with some food and to check up on him,” Mingi held up the bag of food and boba as proof. The young lady stared at him a moment before she shook her head to properly hear him.

“Boss? Oh, that’s right. He did get the job at Accidental Destiny,” she remembered with a bright smile.

“He most certainly did. I’ve been lucky enough to taste his food, it’s amazing, but I hear he’s been under the weather lately, so I’m here to check up on him,” he explained as he took a couple more steps inside so he could leave the December cold outside where it belonged.

“He’s just … I’m sorry, you’re Song Mingi, aren’t you?” The question was one Mingi had been waiting ages for and it brought a smile to his face.

“I am indeed. I must say, you’re the first civilian--” He felt silly saying the word as he air quoted it. “--to recognize me.”

“Well, in Korea, I … I guess that doesn’t surprise me so much, but I have the tattered sweater from your autumn drop,” she stated in a soft tone, almost embarrassed as she tucked hair behind her ears.

“Our … really? I thought most of that was picked up internationally. You’re the first person I’ve run into that’s bought any of our products. Our first. Wow. The drop only had three pieces and the sweater sold out if I recall,” Mingi mused softly, thinking back to their threadbare first drop. They were so nervous that it would do poorly and in the end, the demand surprised them all.

“With good reason. I love wearing it with a camisole under it during the spring and autumn. May I say that I love the purpose of your brand? That we’re all people and deserve to live how we want.” The young lady seemed nervous but the more he got her talking, the more confident she was feeling talking to the owner and creator of a brand she bought. Her description of their brand made his heart soar. Their brand through the eyes of someone else not within their small group was wonderful and exactly what he had been hoping for. It was all he ever wanted and now it was here, staring at the floor nervously and speaking with more confidence as the time stretched.

“You nailed it. What’s your name?” Mingi finally asked of the young lady.

“Oh, Lee Yu Bin.”

“Well, Lee Yu Bin, when you go to buy something from us next time, send a message first and we’ll give you a discount.”

“Wait … what?” Yu Bin stood behind her desk in shock.

“As far as I know, no one else from Korea has bought our work. To meet whom I am calling our first local customer, I’d like to commemorate that, but first I’d like to check up on my friend,” Mingi stated as he subtly returned to the task at hand.

“Oh, yes, sorry. He’s just up those stairs and is at the end of the hall, the corner unit,” she explained with a blush rising up her neck to her cheeks; which she tried to cover with her hands. Mingi gave her a bow in thanks before moving where indicated. He found himself smiling for multiple reasons; one being the squealing young lady he was leaving in the lobby, but first and foremost in his mind was seeing Seonghwa after so long of going without.

“Corner unit she said, ah, here we are,” he mumbled to himself as he set the bag of food down so he could knock on the door, but his knuckles hovered over the door for a moment. Mingi leaned in closer to make out what he could hear through the wood. It wasn’t much, but it sounded odd. Just the occasional voice, possibly the TV playing? It sounded like Seonghwa, but through the door it was difficult to discern. He leaned back up and adjusted the hanger in his other hand before knocking softly three times. The sounds from inside the apartment seemed to stop as he stood there. “Seonghwa? It’s Mingi. San sent me to check up on you. I brought some bulgogi sandwiches and your favorite boba from the shop,” he explained through the door. An extended silence hung in the air as no sound came through the door. He heard no movement, no voices, nothing. “Seonghwa? Do I need to call an ambulance?”

There was scrambling from somewhere in the apartment before a body collided softly with the door. “No!” came a sharp, desperate voice directly on the other side of the door. The desperation in his friend’s voice made him jump … and worry. “I’m just not feeling very well and I don’t want to get you sick. You can leave the sandwiches though.”

“Well….” Mingi glanced over his own shoulder to the garment bag hanging there and hummed. Changing hands with the hanger, he reached into his pocket and pulled out an unwrapped mask. “I have a mask?” he offered. “I’d prefer to hand the sandwich to you, to make sure you get it. Okay?” The silence returned as Mingi began to put the mask on. He wasn’t entirely surprised, but he had hoped that the promise of a mask would bring some comfort. “Hwa?” Mingi pressed softly a few seconds before the door creaked open and he finally saw the occupant inside. It looked as if Seonghwa hadn’t slept in days and if he had, it wasn’t a good sleep. His face was ashen and slick with tears while his eyes were bloodshot. If he didn’t know better, Mingi would have thought a ghost was staring out at him from the dimly lit interior. “There you are,” Mingi smiled under his mask, soft and sweet as it was seen on his whole face. Even with the mask it was easy to tell the he was smiling since his eyes turned into perfect slivers. “San and everyone at the Destiny have been worried about you and truth be told; especially from seeing you now, so am I. How are you?” he inquired with a sincerity that seemed to surprise Seonghwa.

“I’m fine. Apologies for making you come all this way for nothing,” Seonghwa replied and nearly snapped the door in his face.

“Wait, wait, wait. Are you sure? Maybe I could help with something?” he offered, doing his best to get an invite inside. They may not have known each other long, but Mingi was growing to care for Seonghwa and seeing him like this … it was incredibly distressing. “Please?” he added after watching those tired eyes glance back inside. Seonghwa’s pastel hair was going toward grey as the color was washing out and his roots were coming in. On top of everything, the clothes he was wearing looked slept in.

“I’m fine, I promise.”

“You don’t look fine and I’d like to be able to help in any way I can. Any little thing I can help with?” Mingi made no effort to get closer, getting the feeling that it would be a poor move on his part. Seonghwa glanced back inside once more before moving out of the way and opening the door for Mingi to enter. Reaching down, he grabbed the bag of food from the floor and made his way inside with a bow of his head and closed the door behind him.

“I’m sorry for the mess,” Seonghwa whispered as he walked down the short hall to turn the television down some more. Mingi glanced around the darkened apartment as he set the bag of food on the kitchen counter. He had said mess, hadn’t he? The small apartment was pristine. Nothing seemed to be out of place and everything looked as if it had been cleaned within an inch of its life. “Like I said, apologies for the mess,” Seonghwa repeated when he saw Mingi looking around and mistaking his concern for disgust.

“What mess?”

“The … the mess?” Seonghwa repeated as he gestured out to what looked to Mingi like a well maintained home.

“Seonghwa … everything is clean. There’s no mess, anywhere,” Mingi explained, letting a quiet fall between them as he watched his friend look around the apartment like it was the first time he was really seeing it. He made no movements as his friend turned on the spot to view his truly spotless home. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I thought…. I thought it was ruined,” Seonghwa whispered in disbelief.

“Have you been sleeping at all?”

“Yes, but not well. There have been nightmares. I … I could have sworn,” Seonghwa continued in disbelief as he ran his fingers through his fading hair.

“Maybe some good sleep would help. Not to mention some good food. It might not be yours, but Yunho and Yeosang made the bulgogi today,” Mingi offered as he moved to hang the garment bag on the nearby coat hook.

“What is that?” The tone caught him off guard as he stepped back from the bag to see his friend. Seonghwa was staring hard at him while doing his best to control his breathing. Mingi’s brow furrowed slightly as he looked to the bag and back at Seonghwa.

“This? It’s a gift. It is Christmas after all and you deserve to be treated like everyone else. I’ve already gifted them their pieces, now it’s time for you.” He took a step toward the garment bag to unzip it only to watch Seonghwa put as much distance between them as his setup would allow. Mingi stopped moving entirely and watched his friend. There was fear in his eyes. Genuine fear … of him and it turned his stomach.

“You need to leave. Now. Right now. Take it with you and leave,” Seonghwa spit as the furrow of Mingi’s brow deepened. He didn’t understand, but watching Hwa fight hyperventilating right there in front of him sent the perfect message. “I don’t want it. I don’t want anything from anyone, take it and get out, now!” Seonghwa said, steadily raising his voice as he spoke. Mingi didn’t need to be told again and quickly scooped the garment bag back up and marched right back out the way he had come in, closing the door gently behind him. The dismissal stung, but Mingi didn’t stick around as he took the mask off, tucked it into his pocket and tried to keep the disappointment off his face as he left the building.

Chapter Text

Humming filled the kitchen as Seonghwa was busy making something with his hands when he heard a knock from behind him. He turned to see San standing just outside the door frame with a kind smile on his face. Seonghwa held up a single finger with the gold pouch mandu still in his hands; which he quickly finished turning to get the pouch just right. Placing it with the rest, he smiled at the mandu before walking over to his employer.

“Oh that looks so good. I’d love to eat it now, but it’s for the new year?” San inquired, peeking over Seonghwa’s shoulder to view the carefully prepared spread he had going.

“Yeah, there should be enough to last the whole day. At least … I hope I made enough anyway. I could panic make extra if we need them,” he added with a soft giggle.

“Do you think you have enough to spare some for tonight?”

“What’s to--oh! I totally forgot. HALA,” Seonghwa remembered in a hushed tone as he turned to look over the numerous trays of dumplings.

“It’s just going to be the seven of us, I hope, so it’s not that small a party, but it’s something private to celebrate the new year,” San explained as Seonghwa stood a little straighter at his words.

“Only … seven?” he asked in that same hushed tone, not yet turning around to look at San.

“I think so. Wooyoung is pretty sure that Mingi won’t be joining us,” San confirmed with a pout on his lips. A face that was mirrored under Seonghwa’s mask before he shifted to look at what the kitchen had to offer.

“Well, between the ramyun bar, tteokbokki, and fish cakes, I think I can spare a few mandu for a private celebration. Would you … would you mind texting Wooyoung and finding out for certain if Mingi won’t be joining tonight, please?” Seonghwa questioned nervously. It was the first time he had ever really asked for something of San; who seemed just as taken aback by the request as the man whom had made it, but nodded after a few seconds. Seonghwa felt truly terrible for turning Mingi away those couple of months back and had been wanting to make up and apologize for the matter. He was told on more than one occasion that Mingi had stopped by when he wasn’t working. Hwa had also noticed he had stopped accompanying his friends to their group dates. Seonghwa felt as if he was driving an unintentional wedge between these friends and that was the last thing he wanted to do.

“Sure, I can. I’ll ask him to let Mingi know that he’s missed,” San confirmed with a slight pout. Seonghwa nodded, because he did miss the fiery haired man. He also thought back to when Wooyoung was a little drunk and started to explain why he thought Mingi wasn’t there anymore without realizing that he was standing right there. Woo had felt terrible, but it was something Seonghwa had needed to hear at the time.

“Please and, um, let him know I’d like to apologize for something,” he stated, hardly able to look San in the face before turning back to finish up with the mandu. It was a moment before he heard his boss on the phone and he did his best to not listen in. His anxiety said he should, find out how pissed they were with him for ruining their friendship, but his rational mind was plenty in control this time. They aren’t Marcus, you don’t need to read their tones like you used to, he told himself as he moved to set what he was working on in the steamer.

- + - + -

Mingi had been working exceptionally hard since Christmas. He was barely taking breaks as he designed outfit after outfit for future lines that they had barely any plans for. The Lunar New Year drop was performing extremely well and he was determined to make every other drop just as successful. Even though that wasn’t the entire reason for his sudden boost in work ethic. The sound of someone entering the studio barely caught his attention, but as they didn’t outright disturb him, Mingi kept working. His focus was currently on the summer collection with its breezy selection making him smile. In a quiet moment when his pencil was no longer scratching the paper, Mingi heard Hongjoong and Jongho speaking softly to each other.

“I’m worried. I know he’s the lead designer and all, but it seems like he’s--”

“Closing himself off?” Jongho finished when it seemed that Joong couldn’t find the right words.

“Yes, exactly. I have no doubt the clothes will look amazing, they always do. I just … I think he’s taking this Seonghwa business a little hard,” Hongjoong whispered with a huff.

“You two know the room isn’t that big, right? And with the least amount of furniture in it, you both echo quite well in here,” Mingi hummed from his draft table without turning around to look at his partners.

“Fuck,” his co-designer cursed, pulling a small giggle from Jongho. “I do now.” Mingi sighed, deep and heavy before setting his pencil down and turning to face the others. He was tired and knew he looked it just from their faces when they saw him, but he was doing his best to ignore it.

“This,” he started as he motioned at the papers on the table. “Isn’t because of Seonghwa. These needed to get done so they can be sent to the manufacturer in time. We all know I had been putting them off for a while,” Mingi explain, not meeting their eyes near the end. It was only part of the truth and nearly entirely a lie.

“Is that why you haven’t come to a group date night since?” Jongho inquired in a blunt manner that only he could pull off. Mingi sighed as he picked up his pencil to have something to fiddle with in thought. “We miss having you there, hyung,” he continued with a sincerity that pulled Mingi’s lips into a deep pout as he still couldn’t meet their eyes.

“I’m with Jongho. And Wooyoung. And everyone else at the Destiny. We all miss having you there with us. Your laugh is incredibly contagious and it’s missed by everyone,” Hongjoong added, doing his very best to entice their boss back into the collective. A tapping on the door near his partners drew everyone’s attention. Wooyoung was tapping his phone against the glass to show it was San calling. He stopped when he saw Mingi looking at him.

“No, Wooyoung, I won’t be in attendance today,” Mingi stated loud enough to be heard through the door, if not on the call itself. “I want you three to go and enjoy yourselves though.”

Wooyoung ripped the door open with a, “What do you mean you’re not going!?”

“I think I was pretty clear, Woo. Like I said, this—” Mingi gestured at everything he had been working on the past two months, everything that he’d been using as an excuse to stay away from the Destiny for a while. “—this is not because of Seonghwa. Okay, not entirely because of him,” Mingi added when it looked like all three of them had something to say about that statement. “I’ve never been upset with him over what happened that night. I’ve been upset with myself and I have … yet to figure out how to apologize for what happened, for what I did, it doesn’t matter that it was an accident. The panic I saw on his face when I mentioned I had brought him a gift. The fear he looked at me with … like he was scared something was going to happened after that. I brought that fear to his doorstep without thinking. I never want to see that on his face ever again,” Mingi explained for the first time since the incident. At first none of them properly questioned him about what had happened and when they finally started to, he would avoid it. He didn’t want to talk about it or it was in the past so it no longer mattered, but it was very obvious to everyone in that room that it meant a great deal to their captain. Mingi glanced at the garment bag still hanging in the corner of the room. Always in his line of sight so that he would remember that for a moment, Seonghwa was scared of him. “I’ve been throwing myself into work, trying to find the right way to apologize for what I did. Trying to build my courage so I can face him and say that I’m sorry for I did. Until I have that courage, I … I can’t bring myself to face him,” Mingi finished explaining before he turned back to the sketches and sighed heavily.

“Mingi,” Hongjoong started while Wooyoung brought the phone back to his ear to listen to San a moment.

“Why don’t you three take an early night and head down now? I’m sure your boyfriends will be very happy to see you.” Mingi had hoped to hide the slightly bitter tone in his voice, but he wasn’t entirely sure he had succeeded. He glanced up at the reflection on the glass he would sometimes sketch on. Wooyoung was confirming to San that Mingi wasn’t coming and then they were all looking at each other. If they looked hard at him, it would have been easy to see that he hated seeing them all leave, but he also wasn’t going to back down on himself when he still didn’t know how to apologize to Seonghwa for what had happened.

“We’ll bring you back something to eat, okay?” Jongho said in a sad tone before being the first to move toward the door, deciding that this battle was lost.

“I’d really like that, but you guys aren’t coming back tonight. I meant it when I said to take an early night. I’ll see you three tomorrow,” Mingi stated with a small smile before returning his eyes to the sketches he was working on. Behind him he could hear Hongjoong ushering Wooyoung out; who almost certainly was thinking about making some sort of rebuttal. He grinned sadly to himself and continued working in a gentle quiet.

- + - + -

Seonghwa had been laboring under the hopeful impression that Mingi would be joining them all tonight and just as he was steaming the last batch and mandu, he heard San sighing just outside the kitchen. He knew that tone of sigh already and turned to see the pout on his bosses face. The answer was obvious, but he had to ask the question anyway. “He’s not coming, is he?” Seonghwa called across the space, startling San; who had no idea that attention was on him. San simply nodded, not entirely wanting to elaborate on what he’d overheard. “Because of me?” The bluntness of the question clearly caught San off guard as he suddenly coughed while trying to sigh again. Seonghwa gasped, not meaning to upset his boss like that, but he was being waved off to keep taking care of the mandu while San recovered.

“I only heard that Mingi was working on the summer line without a break, but the rest of them are coming soon. Mingi’s given them the rest of today off, so at least we’ll have some of them here to celebrate the new year,” San relayed, glancing at his phone as the chime went off. “In fact, they’re on their way now.”

“Has anything like this happened before?” Seonghwa inquired and immediately got the sense that it was the one question that San was desperately hoping would not be asked of him.

“Normally it’s only once in a great while, not … three or four times in a row,” Yunho answered from beside San, plates in hand as they were starting to gather up from the last guests. “I’ve never known Mingi to work this hard, but I guess we shouldn’t be so terribly surprised. Launching their brand has done a lot for them and Mingi will likely be wanting to keep that pace going for a while. Both him and Hongjoong hardly know what to do with themselves if they sit still for too long,” he finished as he set the dirty dishes in the sink before moving to grab plates and bowls for the incoming lovers gathering.

“So it is my fault?”

“What? No!” San stated firmly as Yunho turned to say the same thing to him.

“I’d like the address please. There’s something I need to apologize for as it is and if he’s going to insist on working, I can at least bring him something to eat then,” Seonghwa said in such a matter-of-fact tone that it startled everyone.

“Okay, Hwa, give me a second to get you the address,” San mumbled, absolutely startled by Seonghwa’s tone of voice. Hwa turned back to the stove and turned off the burner so that the dumplings weren’t overdone. He then went about making up two of everything to-go. It had been a terribly long time since Seonghwa had set his mind to something like this and he was going to make sure that Mingi knew what had happened wasn’t his fault. The gold pouch mandu, tteokbokki, fish cakes, and ramyun bowls for two were quickly all packed into a bag before he filmed a thermos with nearly boiling water. Then he ladled some extra fish cake broth into a container when he saw Yeosang standing in the doorway holding something in his hands and just watching him. “Are you going to tell me this isn’t my fault too?” he asked softly before making sure the lid was on the broth tightly.

“Yes,” Yeosang stated softly, not moving from his place in the doorway.

“Well … that’s where you’re all wrong. It’s absolutely my fault. I wasn’t in a good place mentally and I yelled at him over something he had literally no idea about. I spurned him when he just trying to be nice and help me. I need to fix that,” Seonghwa admitted for the first time since Christmas. It felt weird for him to say it out loud, but he knew it was good for him to do so. One step in the long walk he needed to heal.

“That doesn’t mean it was your fault. I’ve been where you are, Seonghwa. Some days I’m still there, like a raw, open nerve that I’m sure will never heal, that I’ll never really get over. But this reaction, it wasn’t about Mingi, it was about whomever did this terrible thing to you. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s his,” Yeosang stated in a soft, even tone that stunned Seonghwa. The blonde smiled sadly as he held up a business card and set it on the counter by the door. “Why don’t you head on out while Yunho and I finish setting up here?” he offered with a smile that was so contagious that it caused a smiled to break under Seonghwa’s mask.

“Thank you, Yeosang … I think I will,” Seonghwa said with a smile that could be heard as he grabbed the readied bag and moved to switch places with Yeosang; grabbing the card from the counter as he moved. He set the bag and card on the counter next to the register so he could remove his mask, gloves and apron, tossing the disposables in the trash and was about to walk his apron back to the hook when he heard San coming up from the back.

“Oh, Seonghwa, leave that there, we’ll take care of it. Here. A small gesture to go with yours,” San stated as he held out a small bouquet of flowers to Seonghwa; who was looking at his boss like he was crazy, in one hand and the jacket he had worn to work in the other.

“You don’t think this will be too much?” Hwa asked as he set the apron on the counter and took his jacket from San; slipping into it easily as a light blush rose on his cheeks.

“Not at all, good luck, Hwa,” San smiled as Seonghwa took the flowers once he was zipped up. He grabbed the bag of food and held the flowers and business card in the other hand as he made his exit from the Destiny.

Chapter Text

The brisk walk in the February evening was refreshing and cemented Seonghwa’s resolve to apologize to Mingi. It also helped that he passed the rest of the HALA staff on his way to the building where Mingi still was. They had a nice quick chat as they were all very surprised that Seonghwa was heading to their office to make sure that their boss was getting something good to eat. All three of them wished him luck and Seonghwa could swear he saw want on Wooyoung’s face to walk back with him into the office so that he could witness whatever interactions they were about to have. Hongjoong must have seen it too because Hwa watched as the second in command steered Wooyoung to stay with them while waving Seonghwa on. They were … they were good people, just like those at the Destiny. He felt bad for keeping them all at arms length still, it wasn’t exactly fair to them but he was only just starting out on his healing and it was still going to take time for him to be open with them all. Time and patience, Seonghwa.

He entered the building and stood just outside the elevator that would eventually lead him up to the HALA offices. Bile rose in his throat and he choked it down, not allowing the fear to overtake him. At the moment, he had no choice but to ride the lift up, the offices were many floors up and he would end up wiping himself out if he tried to climb all those stairs. A soft ding drew his attention as the doors opened, waiting for him to enter. Fear gripped his heart the moment he looked inside. No one exited the lift and he was the only passenger to get on, slipping in at the last possible moment as the doors tried to close on him. Seonghwa did his best to control his breathing as the control panel waited for his input. The space was larger that he had anticipated, but to Hwa, it felt like a crushing weight baring down on him. His mind filled the with with the playroom and … he swore he could feel the crushing of the maiden around his body before he closed his eyes against the memory. He knew the exact moment his mind had conjured and did not wish to see it replayed in a place of semi-comfort. “No,” he said out loud, tempering the panic attach rising in his throat. “Not. Today. I am here to see a friend … not relive the past.” His voice wavered a little as he spoke, but there was a conviction that he hadn’t heard in his own voice for … nearly his entire marriage. When Seonghwa opened his eyes, the opulent elevator greeted him once again and he quickly reached out a hand to press the button for HALA Headquarters.

Seonghwa’s breathing filled the lift as he practiced the exercises given to him by his therapist. He just had to hold the panic attack off until he exited the space. In his mind though, creeping up from the depths, was Marcus’ voice, almost out of earshot, but it pulled a whimper from him all the same. The bag crinkled in his hands as he fought his mind over what to pay attention to. Seonghwa was here to apologize, not cause another incident. “You’re not here, leave me alone. You are not fucking here,” he repeated as he glanced at the numbers as they went up. “He’s not here … not here. I’m safe. I’m safe. I am safe.” His voice grew a little louder each time as he was trying to drown out the Maryland drawl that was trying to pull him deep into his mind … to lock him up as he used to be. “Leave me alone,” Hwa whispered as the doors opened and he made a quick effort to escape the box and finally breathe properly once more. He refused to look behind him as a cruel scream filled his mind. It was only as the doors dinged closed that he realized how much he was shaking, so he set the bag of food on the floor to make sure he didn’t spill any of it. Since he was already bent small, Seonghwa hugged his knees and did a few of the breathing exercises given to him by his therapist to bring his body back to calm.

After a few excruciating minutes, his mind and body finally calmed enough to allow him to stand up once again. “Fuck you Marcus Levitt,” he cursed in a steady voice as he plucked the bag off food off the floor and stood tall. Getting down afterward would be its own challenge, but he would cross that bridge when he came to it. Seonghwa felt good enough to find Mingi and wiped at his cheeks in case there were tears he had missed. Now he just had to find the designer. With a sigh to rid him of the rest of the anxiety, Seonghwa began to move through the floor, peeking into the frosted windows and finding no one so far. He was worried that perhaps he had missed the designer until he suddenly spotted him, hunched over a drawing table, just sketching away. Seonghwa gave a soft knock, but there was no reaction so he quietly entered the room.

“Which one of you forgot something?” Mingi inquired without looking up and just assuming that Seonghwa was one of his partners come back to the office. He remained quiet for a few seconds before speaking.

“If either of us forgot something—” Mingi’s sketching came to a stiff and sudden halt as he saw those dark eyes find his reflection on the glass just on the other side of the table. “—I think it’s you,” Seonghwa said in an almost playful tone as he waited to see what else would happen. Mingi just stared through the reflection a moment, eyes darting to Seonghwa and what he was holding as if he was trying to make sense of what was going on. Then his back went straight as he moved to place the pencil down, but he looked nervous and his hands shook a little as he missed the slit made for the pencil and it tumbled to the floor. Seonghwa glanced down as it bounced and he smiled through the brief flash of Marcus in the room, blaming him for what was happening. He had to believe that Mingi wasn’t anything like Marcus, he felt terrible for what had happened back before Christmas and it needed to be resolved. Mingi was slowly turning in the chair to face Seonghwa, shock clearly all over his face while Hwa smiled softly at him. “And I do believe you’ve forgotten to eat, so I’m here to remedy that.” He held up the bag of still warm food as proof.

Seonghwa watched Mingi take in what he had said, how he’d said it. He was watching the designer fight with what had happened, the fact that he had specifically gone out of his own way to keep distance between them, and the fact that Seonghwa was now here, standing in his office, with food as a peace offering. “How did you find where I worked?”

“You have a great group of friends that are worried about you, Song Mingi, and … I know when this little break started … so that’s why I’m here.” Seonghwa skirted the question as he set the bag down on a nearby empty table before turning back to Mingi and watching as that face was once again trying to make sense of everything.

“San gave you the address, didn’t he?”

“Actually … it was Yeosang that gave me the business card. It pains everyone to not have you join them anymore, so I’ve … come to apologize,” Seonghwa admitted softly as he stood beside the empty table and set the bouquet of flowers down beside the bag.

“You … apologize to me? Why do you think you need to apologize?” Mingi questioned, clearly puzzled and causing the chef to furrow his own brows in confusion right back.

“I threw you out?”

“I brought fear to your doorstep, it made sense to throw me out.”

“But you had no way of knowing that I might react like that. You couldn’t possibly have known … I didn’t know. You were extending a gesture of goodwill toward me during Christmas and I … overreacted isn’t the right term, but it’s the only one I have. I am sorry, Song Mingi, to have spurned your gift and thrown you out the way I did,” Seonghwa explained before bowing deeply when he had finished. He held it for a few seconds before standing back up and wiping at his eyes. “I know you don’t know why and … right now … I can’t entirely explain why I did what I did but….” Words momentarily failed him as he forced himself to focus on the man before him and not the one from his past. “I can tell you … that I’ve been burned by that action before. It…,” Seonghwa paused to shudder a breath as he somehow found the courage to keep speaking through the breaks in his voice and the tears finding their way down his cheeks. “It turned out very poorly for me in the end and I obviously haven’t fully recovered from it yet, but … I need you to know, to understand that it wasn’t you I was throwing out, it was … it was my past.” His voice completely broke when he finished, bringing his eyes back up to Mingi; who was looking only partially horrified by what had been said.

It was a lot to process, even if Seonghwa hadn’t really said anything but vague notions at best. Hwa wasn’t surprised that it was taking Mingi a little bit to figure out how to reply. “You’re right, I couldn’t have known what my gift would have done to you. I hadn’t gotten to know you all that much, a pity on my part. Had I tried, I probably wouldn’t have set you off the way I did. For that I am sorry. If you would be amenable … I’d like to rectify that. So that another potential gift won’t cause that kind of harm again,” Mingi proposed, running a hand through his fiery hair.

“Well, it just so happens that I brought enough food for two. Do you think you could take a break and enjoy some good fortune with me?” Seonghwa inquired with a smile that felt more genuine than any he’d smiled since returning to Korea. He opened the bag first, but the flowers caught his eye and he picked them up. “I tried to forget. These are from me and San … mostly San … since I think he made it while I finished getting lunch together,” he admitted, a small grin and blush on his face as he held the small bouquet out for Mingi to take.

The smile Mingi gifted him at the flowers as he took them caused his blush to brighten slightly, but Seonghwa willed his heart to not flutter like that. You’ve only been free a few months, don’t you dare fall for anyone. That was definitely his own voice and not Marcus’. It was far too soon and he knew he needed time, he was only here to talk. “San does have a good eyes for what fits the moment. I’ll have to find a vase for these later,” Mingi stated softly as he sniffed the flowers and set them on his drawing table, to keep the awkwardness they could create out of their dining experience. “For now though, what did you bring us to eat?” he asked, walking up to the table and taking a seat. Mingi wasn’t too close or too far from Seonghwa, still within arms reach so he wouldn’t have to overextend himself across the table to give him his food.

“Money purse mandu, buldak ramyun, tteokbokki, and fish cakes.” As he explained, Seonghwa pulled out two of each item, plus the thermos of water and the silverware. He slid one of everything toward Mingi and gave a slight bow before sitting in front of his own food.

Mingi opened the mandu first and gave it a great sniff, inhaling the flavor permeating the air. “Damn. This smells amazing, I can’t wait to taste it. Where did you learn to cook like this?”

“My mother, mostly. She adores cooking and I loved watching her as a child. It was one of my favorite things to do growing up and as I grew, I started to pick up on things and just kinda got the hang of it from there,” he admitted softly as he pulled open his plate of tteokbokki first.

“So you really have never been formally trained?”

“Really, never. San doesn’t believe it either. Thankfully the internet has been a great help in me finding recipes for the Destiny.”

“What … um, what about your time in America?” Mingi inquired; which froze Seonghwa the second the question hung in the air between them. Hwa should have anticipated the question at some point, but it likely would have caught him off guard all the same and his brow furrowed heavily, causing Mingi to backpedal on the question. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

“No, it’s natural that people are going to have questions. My time in America was … tenuous at best. It wasn’t kind to me and I’m … I’m slowly working to get better from what happened to me there. Safe to say that you’ll never find me cooking anything from the west at the Destiny,” Seonghwa stated in a slight clipped tone. It was important that it was understood where his boundaries were by those around him. They could bring up certain things, but if he wasn’t willing to talk about them beyond that, they had to deal with it. Some things were still very much off limits to talk about. It was something he was working on with his therapist, but he was glad to see Mingi’s nod of recognition and understanding as they let the conversation about America die out and instead began to dig into their meal.

The first part of their … well it wasn’t a date by normal definitions, but it was a kind of date; not that Seonghwa was trying to think of it like that, he was doing everything he could to not call it what it felt like, but the first part of their date passed by with hums and praise of Seonghwa’s cooking. He was blushing wildly at the praise, still not used to it. It didn’t matter that since he had joined at the Destiny that they had made consistent profit, according to San. It was strange to think that Marcus had always found faults with his meals, but insisted on him cooking all the time. Of course he had never said it in front of others, saving that for private moments. Seonghwa knew the reasons for it now, but those thoughts continued to linger, just like everything else that monster had done to him. Soon enough, Hwa, it won’t be the first thing you think of anymore, he reminded himself as he glanced around at the room. He had never been in a design studio before so it was hard to keep his curious, boba eyes to himself at times. A glance at the drafting table was held for a few seconds before he was caught looking and immediately brought his eyes back to his food.

“Oh, I don’t mind if you look. I was just watching to see what you saw. The sketches are pretty fluid at the moment and are honestly pretty likely to change before they get sent out for production. Although, I know that Hongjoong and I are gonna butt heads about,” Mingi explained in an encouraging tone that Seonghwa wasn’t used to. He gestured to the only nearly finished sketch in the bunch, but Seonghwa was momentarily entranced by Mingi’s hands. Large, like Marcus’ but … definitely softer in appearance. Hwa’s eyes went to Mingi’s face that was nothing like Marcus’ and sighed as he abated the rising panic attack. He hasn’t done anything to deserve such comparisons. Don’t do that to him, Seonghwa berated his own mind before he allowed himself the proper look over Mingi’s work … despite how wrong it felt to do so. There were fluid lines meshed with hard patterns that felt like they shouldn’t work together, but were somehow perfectly in sync.

“Is this what you always wanted to do?” Seonghwa inquired, pulling his eyes from the sketches to watch the designer.

“Yes and no. I had a few thoughts about what I wanted to do. Fashion designer, idol, or a mechanic. This found me first, so here is where I am. I always enjoyed designing from a young age and now to be able to have surrounded myself with those that feel the same as me about clothes is wonderful. They’re for everyone, no matter their gender or expression,” Mingi explained, looking over the design and smiling at it before returning his attention to Seonghwa.

“That’s a very progressive thought.”

“A lot of people have told me that, but in the same breath they would tell me that I would fail. I had a feeling that I wouldn’t, so I went through with my plan and if I did manage to fail, it would just be another step on the bridge of life. A path I’m more than willing to walk,” Mingi explained with a conviction that Seonghwa hadn’t been expecting, but found utterly refreshing.

“Not many people would see it like that. I’m glad that you didn’t allow the other voices to cloud your own,” Hwa said in a tone that spoke to the depths of his sadness. Mingi’s head cocked to the side at him; curious and worried, and Seonghwa could see the question in his eyes. “I have a single voice and … I don’t know if I’ll ever really be rid of it.”

“Someone hurt you … didn’t they?”

“He very nearly broke me, but he can’t hurt me anymore. I left him behind.”

“In the ground I hope,” Mingi offered, pulling an unexpected giggle from Seonghwa; who was suddenly coughing to try covering it up.

“I wish, but where he is, he can’t get to me.” Seonghwa smiled, trying to ignore the screaming in his mind that was Marcus. Of course his ex-husband could still get to him, he had permanent residence in Hwa’s head, but he was currently being ignored for the happiness that Mingi was providing just by being understanding. Seonghwa watched Mingi raise the fish cake broth in both hands as he was urged to do the same. With a curious look, he did just that. Mingi reached out to knock his cup against Seonghwa’s.

“To outliving our haters,” the designer exclaimed softly before raising the cup to his lips and taking a sip.

“Heh, to outliving our haters,” Seonghwa repeated as he also took a huge gulp of the broth before setting the cup back down.

“Would … I mean, I’d like to get to know you a little better. It might mean questions about your time in America, but whatever you don’t want to discuss, just let me know and I’ll gladly move on to the next question, okay?” Mingi asked, his tone soft and understanding. Seonghwa was about to pick his chopsticks back up when the topic was raised. His parents hadn’t even offered that kind of understanding at first. It took his outburst for them to fully understand that he needed time and understanding to get to a place where he could speak openly about what had happened to him. He worried his bottom lip between his teeth in thought, hearing his therapist’s words ringing in his mind. ‘It’s good to speak on your experiences, even if only vaguely. It allows you to begin the healing process.’ Seonghwa gave a small nod to Mingi; who smiled back. “Where did you live while you were there?”

“Well … I traveled for my first few months, but I … lived—” His tone audibly shifted over the word from something casual to disdain. “—most of the time in Maryland on the Chesapeake Bay. I had a beautiful view of the ocean … and that’s probably the only good thing I can say about my time there,” Seonghwa explained, not once taking his eyes off his food.

“Do you like the ocean?” Mingi inquired, a tone of curiosity to his voice as Seonghwa noted how he chose his words and was grateful for it.

“I love the ocean, even if I could only hear it, but any chance to look upon it was … the kindest moments reprieve,” he stated as his mind drifted back to his last night on the ocean caught in the tail end of a hurricane. Seonghwa shook his head after a few seconds and caught Mingi staring at him. “Apologies, I got pretty maudlin for a moment there.”

“No apologies needed, Seonghwa. We all have our maudlin moments,” Mingi stated as his eyes quickly glanced over to his left. Seonghwa followed the brief line of sight and found the garment bag from December hanging there. A pang of guilt knotted in Hwa’s stomach, but he said nothing about it … not yet anyway. “Is it alright to ask what you did while you were living there?” The ultimate dreaded question. The knot quickly turned to lead and Seonghwa felt his stomach drop. Chopsticks dropped to the table splashing tteokbokki sauce on the table and suddenly reminding himself of the blade down his own wrists.

“Oh shit, sorry, sorry,” he cursed, quickly grabbing a napkin from the bag to wipe up his mess, moving quicker than Mingi could fully process what had even happened. It would be very clear to the designer that this type behavior was unfortunately normal for Seonghwa. “Um … I’m not quite ready to speak on that aspect yet, but when I am … I’ll let you know. Okay?” Seonghwa hated asking that word. Okay had punctuated so many of his sentences over the last five years that it might as well have simply been a question mark. All in the hopes that Marcus wouldn’t be upset with him. Seonghwa was holding his breath as he waited anxiously for Mingi’s answer.

“Is there anything else you enjoy doing aside from cooking?” Mingi quickly asked, completely changing the subject to something he hoped would be less traumatic to speak about.

“Um … I used to really enjoy singing actually, but I’ve incurred an injury that … well it could keep me from singing properly, it’s a big maybe, but we’ll see in the long run,” Seonghwa explained, trying to give his companion reassurance and not being sure he had succeeded. It was weird trying to be hopeful when his mind was wandering all over the damn place.

“Well, I hope you aren’t too injured then. I think I would very much enjoy hearing you sign,” Mingi stated with a soft smile that brought a momentary flutter to Seonghwa’s heart.

“I’ll keep you updated on my progress then,” Hwa said with a small grin in return. His mind warned him to be careful with his heart and the grin waned somewhat. “I also used to dream about being a model, but—” There was that maudlin tone once again, hanging in the air with that unfinished sentence.

“You do have a wonderful profile, Seonghwa,” Mingi explained, hiding his face behind the ramyun bowl for a minute. The statement caught Seonghwa completely off guard and he found himself staring as the bowl was placed back down onto the table. He saw the look on Mingi’s face change as his own was studied. “Did I say something wrong?” In that moment, Seonghwa felt the tears; that must have startled Mingi slightly, slide down his cheeks. Hwa cut one off with a swipe of his hand and gave a breathy giggle in reply at first.

“Sorry. It’s just … this is gonna sound weird, but … it’s been such a long time since someone has complimented me … and meant it. I wasn’t prepared for it,” he explained as he wiped his face clear of tears only for his body to betray his as a sudden bout of sobs shook his shoulders. Seonghwa was trying to regain control of himself and saw Mingi adjust in his seat, like he was thinking about reaching out but decided against it.

“I pity the person that doesn’t take advantage of their luck to compliment a face like yours on the daily. It’s truly a cruel world that you ended up with someone who didn’t.” The statement pulled another sob from Seonghwa as he sat in the HALA offices, leaving Mingi momentarily stumped about what to do and how he could help.

After a few minutes, Seonghwa regained control of himself and was able to calm down once again. He turned his now bloodshot eyes to the designer and gave him the most genuine of smiles. “Thank you, Song Mingi.”

“You’re welcome, Park Seonghwa.”

Chapter Text

The spring sun warmed Seonghwa’s corner apartment as it had every day since he’d begun renting, but today was something … different, Special. It was the start of three days for him to celebrate his own birthday, at San’s insistence. Seonghwa hummed under his covers as he curled in on himself, doing his best to stay asleep a little longer. ‘You’ve been working so hard recently,’ San had said two weeks ago when the schedule came out and Hwa saw he had a few days off right over his birthday. ‘And no one should have to work on their birthday if they don’t absolutely have to.’ Seonghwa had no real idea what he was going to do over those three days because; and he hated this, Marcus hadn’t let him celebrate his birthday since they’d been married. This was his first in his new found freedom and … there wasn’t a single real thought about how he wanted to spend it. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to celebrate it … but…. Seonghwa sighed and poked his head out from under the comforter and stared as the sun broke through the blinds.

“If I don’t do something … I let him control another birthday … I let him take one more piece of me away. Fuck Marcus Levitt,” Seonghwa cursed as he pushed himself to sit up and look over at the nearby desk where his phone was sitting. He checked it for messages and smiled at the one from San that said, ‘I had better not see you, Park Seonghwa. I want you to enjoy your birthday, not worrying about work. I hope you have a good break.’ Seonghwa couldn’t help the smile that crossed his lips as he double tapped the message to give it a thumbs up. It was the day before his actual birthday and he was happy to have it, because he could use it to figure out what he might want to do tomorrow.

Seonghwa took a brisk shower to get the sleep out of his bones, not to mention the tension that was lying hidden in his muscles. He was taut, ready for the rug to be pulled from under his feet at any time … maybe he needed to speak with his therapist at some point today, talk about how it felt to actually be able to have a birthday and how he had no idea what to do with that knowledge. As he stepped from the shower stall, Seonghwa ran a towel through his hair, now back to his natural color because he hadn’t kept up the pastel pink. It wasn’t as long as when he was with Marcus, but he could feel it on the back of his neck now. Maybe he would get himself a haircut tomorrow? When he dropped the towel off to the side, Seonghwa gasped at his own reflection. It had been a long time since he’d really stared at himself and … he wasn’t sure whom he saw standing there. He could see shades of his old self, but there were signs that he was still the beaten and battered house husband. The last of his wounds had healed and faded into scars that he would now carry for the rest of his life. His eyes had been trying to avoid looking at his neck, but once he caught sight of the scars there, Seonghwa couldn’t look away.

Tears slipped down his cheeks as he thought of each time he had fought that fucking collar, of the way he had clawed at the clasp in the hopes that he could save himself from choking as Marcus tortured him from work until he eventually either submitted in shame or passed out. His breath caught in his throat, like the collar was there and Seonghwa finally tore his eyes away from the mirror; allowing himself to breathe normally once again, shaky, but normal. “Fuck … off. You are not ruining my birthday again,” he whispered to the Marcus only in his mind. Seonghwa made himself look at the scars on his neck once more but didn’t feel bound by them this time. “Baby steps, Seonghwa, baby steps,” he reminded himself as he left the bathroom to get dressed, picking something that would keep him warm during the early spring day.

Hwa needed to make a call to his therapist but first he had to get dressed. He let his mind wander to maybe find something he would like to for himself as a birthday gift. Dinner out, even by himself would be nice and a hair cut because being able to feel his hair on the back of his neck was triggering when he really thought about it. Seonghwa grabbed his hairbrush and a hair tie so that he could live with it for the day at least. He thought about visiting his friends at the Destiny when the brush going through his hair paused. Friends? Plural? Hwa could feel the happy, sad smile on his lips as he considered that thought.

“It had barely been Tae Min for so long that I nearly forgot what it felt like to have multiple friends,” he said aloud to the room, feeling the comfort of his own space answer him back with the safety it provided him. Despite being alone in his home, Seonghwa felt deeply comforted by what he had managed to take back from his abuser. He had regained his life that Marcus had always said he would never be able to maintain without him. Sure, sometimes he would take steps back and fall into old habits, but his therapist constantly reminded him that healing wasn’t a linear process. He would have great days and bad, terrible and okay. She would remind him that he had been through so much that he couldn’t expect to unpack it all quickly. ‘Healing is a journey that can sometimes take years to accomplish, all you can do is be happy when you recognize that you are making progress.’ Lines like that really stuck with him and were good for him to call back on when Marcus’ voice grew too loud in his mind.

Seonghwa finished with his hair, tying what little he could into a ponytail before pulling on a dark long sleeved shirt. He slipped his thumbs into the manufactured holes before slipping into a pair of leggings. He hadn’t realized that as he was thinking that he had grabbed some clothes that he hadn’t considered for a very long time. Marcus had kept him in purely feminine clothes for most of their marriage, only keeping some masculine clothes around for when they went out; which he hadn’t needed at all in the last year of their marriage. But what stared up at him was a carefully curated blend of the genders into something that felt distinctively Park Seonghwa. Admittedly, he didn’t know where exactly on the spectrum of gender he fell, but while he identified as male, he didn’t like his clothes to be exactly male. Too masculine and he was reminded of Marcus while too feminine reminded him of the “wife” he was forced to be. The skirt on his bed was long, but had a slit nearly up to his hip, which would make the leggings very practical to wear. Seonghwa paired a bright sweater with the dark fit and smiled to himself as he did a little twirl in his bedroom. For the first time in years, he was beginning to feel like himself.

He walked back into the bathroom to put some light makeup in a way that actually accented his Korean features rather than trying to hide the fact that he was. Seonghwa hadn’t even bought any foundation or makeup that would whitewash him because it was all that Marcus would allow him to wear, like he was trying to erase that Seonghwa was Korean. Sure, it would make him in the minority, someone that was proud of the melanin that made sure everyone knew where he came from, but Seonghwa refused to hide who he was ever again. A few hairs slipped into his view as he finished his makeup, making sure he knew that his hair was getting long again. “Definitely time to fix that,” he stated to himself as he left the bathroom.

With a flurry of movement around the apartment, Seonghwa finished getting ready as he slid a pair of sunglasses into place while he pulled out his phone and dialed his therapist. She answered on the second ring with a pleasant, “Park Seonghwa, how are you doing?”

“Okay … mostly. I was wondering if you might have time for me today or in the next couple days?” Seonghwa asked and he pushed the sunglasses into his hair as he slipped on a pair of low heeled boots.

“Let me … I have an hour at the end of my day that’s open?”

“Perfect. That would be four o’clock right?”

“It would. When you say mostly, do I need to have anything ready for you?”

“No, I’m … I would just like to talk. I turn twenty-five tomorrow and I … I haven’t a real clue what I should do for myself.” He could hear her pencil as she marked the final hour of her day for him.

“I think we can talk about that easily. I’ll see you later, do your best to take care of yourself. Seonghwa.”

“I’m doing my best, see you at four, Doctor Kim.” Seonghwa was smiling as he hung up the phone, tucking it in his pocket as he went to the door and paused. A voice in the back of his mind screamed out at him. His head canted in the smallest acknowledgment as the voice spoke again, so very distant, but pissed as all hell. “Fuck you, Marcus,” he stated in a harsh tone to quiet his mind. Seonghwa snapped the door closed behind him and took a deep breath. These days were his to do what he wanted to do. No one, not even the mean voice in his head was going to take that from him. It was that thought that put a spring in his step as he walked out into the fine spring morning. Once outside the building, Seonghwa took another deep breath and allowed the spring air to fill his lungs. The scent of the season was so soft and delicate that Seonghwa could have easily lost it in the scent of the city, but it was there.

Visiting the Destiny was the first item on his non-existent list of things to do, so he started to walk there. Thankfully he didn’t live too far from work and made it in very little time. The doors hadn’t been open for that long, but he waited as a small family were leaving the establishment and holding the door open for him. He nodded his thanks and made his way inside only to be greeted by, “Park Seonghwa, you aren’t supposed to be here today or tomorrow or the day after,” Yeosang stated with a playful tone that pulled a giggle from Seonghwa as he raised his hands in self defense.

“I’m strictly here as a customer, Sangie.” For the first time since he started working there, Seonghwa didn’t refer to his coworker by his full name and it shocked both the speaker and the addressed.

“Did you just call me Sangie?”

“Yeah … I think I did.” Seonghwa’s brows furrowed slightly that the term had fallen so easily out of his mouth after so long of only using his full name. “Is that okay?” There was a touch of worry in his voice that eased as Yeosang’s face broke into a huge smile.

“Of course, I’ve been waiting for you to use it!”

“Okay … good,” Seonghwa breathed a sighed of relief as the momentary worry slipped away. “Um—”

“I already put your order in, at least for the boba.”

“Wait … you remembered my boba order?”

“Yeah. A matcha milk tea with brown sugar pearls.” Seonghwa didn’t know what to say. That was exactly what he was going to go for and that it had been anticipated even though he wasn’t supposed to be at work was … uniquely startling. A wave of emotion washed over him and Seonghwa had to catch the tears before they streaked his makeup. “Oh, did I overstep?” Yeosang inquired as he grabbed some napkins to hand over as he stepped around the counter to Seonghwa.

“No … not at all. It’s … it’s just been a long time since someone has remembered something I liked.” He hated the honesty in his own voice and the look it garnered from Yeosang. They had a shared kind of history and he could see it on his friend’s face as he took the offered napkins.

“It’s strange the first time, isn’t it?” Yeosang’s voice was soft so it didn’t carry through the nearly empty building.

“Regaining freedom is very strange … did you go through this too?”

“I don’t think to your extent, but I lived a version of this. Eventually it won’t shock you that people care about you,” Yeosang stated with an honesty that struck hard at Seonghwa’s heart. They saw each other in ways the others would never know, but would understand. Maybe … maybe it was destiny that he had found his way there the day he’d gotten his apartment. Seonghwa offered a soft, understanding smile to Yeosang when Yunho made his presence known.

“What is Seonghwa doing here!?” he called playfully from the kitchen when he finally saw the order and peeked his masked face out from the doorway.

“Strictly as a customer, Yunho. Getting my birthday celebration started with … friends and boba,” Seonghwa rebuttaled, unable to keep the little emotional waver from his voice, but also somehow smiling because this was how his life was always supposed to be.

“Extra pearls for the birthday boy, got it.” Yunho ducked back into the kitchen before Seonghwa could say anything. His mouth hung open to … what, protest? Was he actually thinking of protesting their kindness? The answer was yes, but nothing fell out of his mouth as he heard footsteps coming up the ramp.

“Hwa, what did I say when you left last night?” came San’s voice as their boss come up from the floral section with a spring bouquet in his hands for the counter.

“That you wanted me to enjoy my three days. I’m not here to get behind the counter. Just starting off the birthday celebration with a quick visit to friends and to get a drink.”

“I think not,” San scolded playfully to a now confused Seonghwa. “It’s almost your birthday, I’m not making you pay for anything here on your birthday,” he stated with a confident smile that turned confusion to shock.

“But—”

“No. No buts, Seonghwa. I’m the owner and I can choose how to celebrate my associates. You work so very hard around here and a free drink on or around your birthday is the least I can do for you,” San explained as Yunho came out with the sealed cup and a straw. Yunho was the first to start the song, but the others joined him in singing ‘Happy Birthday’ to Seonghwa, causing him to blush hard.

Hiding his face in his hands, Seonghwa started to giggle, but as the song came to an end, he was a mess of happy tears. He dabbed at his face with the napkins Yeosang had given him and just caught San giving the others a curious look as he caught the tears before they really ruined his makeup. “Oh man … I’m so sorry,” he huffed softly, trying to give a playful giggle that didn’t come out quite right. “It’s—” Seonghwa paused with a very heavy sigh that felt like releasing a weight tied to him. “It’s been a very long time since … anyone’s wished me a happy birthday in earnest. Thank you.” Seonghwa bowed deeply to them and when he stood back up, San’s arms were open in an invitation for a hug. Hwa’s shoulders tensed and he knew they could all see it, but no one said anything. He willed them to ease as he stepped forward and received his first comforting hug in over five years.

The flood gates buckled as he hugged San and the tears that he’d been trying to keep at bay since he arrived began to come freely. His boss was suddenly holding him up as Yeosang was the next to help hold him, followed by Yunho on his other side, each of them showing that they were there for him. Yunho put an arm around his shoulders and squeezed while Yeosang just squeezed his arm in the kind of solidarity that only Seonghwa would understand. It was absolutely wild to him that even after the few short months into his freedom that Seonghwa would somehow feel safe in the arms of another man. Granted there was no way for them to be romantically entangled; which certainly helped him feel safe, but he had barely let anyone touch him since he got back into Korea. He had even shied away from his parents touch and felt like he still wouldn’t want them touching him yet … but he wouldn’t know everything that could happen to him until it happened, much like the hug was now. Thankfully no one entered the Destiny for the five minutes they stood together. When Seonghwa began to shift out of the hug, they all moved to release him.

“So much for my makeup,” Seonghwa giggled as he dabbed at his tears with the napkins that he’d been given earlier. “Apologies for all that.”

“Sometimes having a good cry is the only thing that helps,” Yunho voice, giving a bright smile that was so infectious that Seonghwa returned it amid the tears.

“You never have to apologize for any of that here. We just want you to know that you’re safe with us,” San stated, earning nods from his employees. “You’ll always be safe here, Hwa.” His boss gave him a look that read, ‘When you’re ready, we’ll be here to listen.’ Seonghwa gave a small nod and smile in recognition of the offer. “So, do you have any kind of plans for your birthday?”

“Um … no? Well … I’m having trouble thinking of anything to do. I have an appointment later today that might help me with that and I might go to get my hair cut tomorrow … but as for a genuine kind of plan … I don’t have any ideas,” Seonghwa explained as he finally took the boba tea from Yunho. While he was sheepish about his lack of plans, he didn’t feel judged for it. Before the schedule went out two weeks ago he had been planning on working his birthday and now that the day was nearly upon him, Hwa still had no idea what to do with himself really.

“I wish we could go with you, whatever you do,” Yunho added as a customer entered the store and he had to go back into the kitchen. Yeosang gave Seonghwa a look that spoke to how Seonghwa felt about the want.

“I wish you could too,” Hwa half-lied. Would it be nice to spend the day with friends? Of course … but…. It had been so long since he could celebrate his birthday. Having the day to himself for the first year was probably for the best. He would have other birthdays to celebrate with them.

“Why don’t you stop by at the end of the night tomorrow and we’ll toast your birthday, okay?” San asked as he started to make his way back into the florist area of the building.

“That sounds like a plan I can keep up with. I’ll see you guys tomorrow! Thanks for the boba!” he called out to everyone, but giving Yeosang a little wave as he got to cash register again. Hwa got a wave back as he exited the Destiny with no clear path for the rest of his day until the evening.

The rest of Seonghwa’s day passed in a blur as he was anxiously waiting for his appointment later. He stopped by hair dresser and made an appointment for the next day, letting them know what he wanted to do. As much as he wanted to, Seonghwa decided against coloring his hair this time, going just for the cut instead. The stylist he spoke with was kind, introducing herself as Kim Se Ri and letting him know that she would be the one working on him tomorrow. He decided to warn her ahead of time that he was a little anxious about being touched and she stated that it was no problem, she’s dealt with a few people that had touching issues and she would do her best to be accommodating. Next he did some simple shopping, grabbing some convenient store food to take home because nothing hit the spot quite like corner store meals and they were so much better here than in America. Seonghwa never trusted the food from gas stations when he was over there.

His therapy was enlightening as always. Doctor Kim told him that he felt undeserving of his own birthday because it had been controlled for so long. There was nothing wrong with wanting to celebrate ones life, even if he only did it by quietly wishing himself a happy birthday and doing nothing. She could understand his want to do something special though. Having been kept from any sort of celebration for so long, it was only natural to try and fill the space, but if he forced it, it wouldn’t feel right and he would feel a deeper disconnect to his birthday. ‘Let whatever is going to happen, happen naturally, even if it’s nothing at all.’ Seonghwa went back home with a lot to think about as he always did when he left his talks with Doctor Kim. Tomorrow he would be twenty-five and the only way to know how the day would feel, was to get there.

Boba emptied into the toilet as Seonghwa’s anxiety knotted stomach finally revolted. He had slept remarkably well the night before, but the closer and closer he got to his hair appointment, the more anxious he became. Hwa was just glad he’d maintained his composure during the appointment. Kim Se Ri had a gentle touch and had constantly apologized for the discomfort that was only in Seonghwa’s head. His stomach churned once more and he felt bile rise up, but that’s all that was left and he coughed it into the toilet before he stood back up on shaky legs. Seonghwa wiped his lips as he flushed the toilet twice to make sure everything went down the drain. He moved toward the sink; catching himself with it as his legs tried to give out once. Hwa took a few deep breaths before he drank water from his hands to get the taste of bile out of his mouth.

“Well … at least you waited,” Seonghwa said to his own stomach as he leaned over the sink with his eyes closed a moment. Another wave of nausea threatened to upend him, but there was nothing left his his stomach to bring up as his anxiety slowly faded while he mentally worked through the grounding technique. The one thing he could taste was unfortunate, but was all he had available to him in the moment. Dark eyes lifted to view his reflection and finding it rather pleasing to look at for the first time in a long while. A slow smile crept onto his face as he tilted his head to really see the cut. The dark of his natural hair was pleasant to look at, but the fade from the length on top to his new undercut gave him a sense of power that he hadn’t felt in years.

A knock drew his attention sharply to the door; which blinked in and out between reality and the bathroom he was used to being tortured in. “Park Seonghwa?” came his hairdresser’s voice, thankfully shattering the growing illusion and allowing him to relax. “Are you okay in there?”

“Yeah, perfectly fine now. I’ll be out in a minute,” Seonghwa replied before taking another couple gulps of water to make sure the taste and smell of vomit was gone. He gave himself a once over in the mirror looking at his carefully chosen fit for his birthday. When the spring line had dropped, Seonghwa marveled over the blend of modern and traditional wear that his friends at HALA had managed. Skinny leg pants with a sheer high-low skirt that reminded him of a hanbok and a top to match with sleeves that just barely graced the ground as he walked. Seonghwa had been so happy to help with his friends career that he never told them that he bought anything and assumed his name had been lost in the shuffle of orders from the drop. It just so happened to fit the kind or aesthetic of fashion he wanted to live in and had been a talking point between him and Se Ri as his appointment had happened. Seonghwa washed his hands before heading back out into the salon, greeting Kim Se Ri with a warm smile despite the worry on her face. “Apologies,” Seonghwa stated with a bow.

“I have my own anxieties, so I fully understand. I just wanna make sure that you are okay?” she inquired as she lead him toward the register.

“I’m fine. Or … I will be one day. It’s a slow but steady process.”

“It often is. How do you like the cut?” she asked, expertly veering away from potentially triggering Seonghwa any further.

“I’m in love with it already. Thank you so much for the cut and the understanding.”

“Oh you’re very welcome. I’m glad you like it and I hope that you come back for any touch ups or any other changes you want to make. Here is my card, so if you’d like me to be your stylist again, you can ask for me specifically,” Se Ri grinned as she handed off the card before calculating his total and gesturing to the card reader. Seonghwa glanced at it, pulled out his card and paid for his birthday gift to himself.

“I may just take you up on that, thank you again,” he bowed once more before leaving the salon with a wave. The moment Seonghwa was outside, he took in the afternoon air with a deep sigh. There was the scent of a sweet cream on the air as he stood there, taking in the act of kindness he’d done for himself. It was a small act, but one that spoke volumes as he was taking himself back piece by piece. Leaving thought of Marcus behind him wherever he went because he would not let the memories ruin his freedom. He had once asked Tae Min how was he supposed to heal something that would never leave him and now he understood. A little at a time was the answer and he would have days where he healed nothing, but today … today he healed himself plenty, with small acts of self love. After standing with that thought a few minutes, Seonghwa found himself wandering in the direction of the cream scent and found a small bakery. Fruit and cream sandwiches … what a treat, he thought to himself; even though he had just emptied his stomach not ten minutes ago.

Deciding to go easy on his queasy stomach, Seonghwa decided on only half of a sandwich with strawberries in it. It was packed full of large berries and he couldn’t wait to devour it. He sat in the corner of the shop, near the window so he could people watch as he ate the sandwich with a small smile on his face. Doing little things like this and his haircut for himself was all he ever wanted to do on his birthday. Even when he lived in America. Time for himself was all he needed and he couldn’t wait to tell Doctor Kim about the small advances he made for himself. His brow furrowed when his phone buzzed in his pocket, but the look turned into a smile when he saw whom was texting him.

Hope you’re having the happiest of birthdays, Seonghwa!
You’ve earned it!

Thank you, Tae Min!
I’ve been treating myself all day.
So I think I’m actually pretty happy today!

So happy to hear that!
Spending it alone?

Seonghwa pondered the question for a moment. He had told Tae Min about the apartment and the job, but Tae had a life outside of helping Seonghwa and couldn’t always devote time to long conversations about how his life had changed since they had arrived back home. His fingers hovered over the keyboard a moment before replying.

Mostly by myself, but I’ve seen most of my friends today.
I’ll be seeing all of them later.

Friends?
As in plural?

As in plural.
Surprised the hell out of me too.

Oh man, that’s so wonderful!

And scary but good.
I can’t lie, Tae Min.
It’s nice to have friends again.

I’m so glad you’re not alone in this anymore.
We’ll have to have a call soon so you can tell me all about them.

I’d really like that, thank you.
And thanks again for the birthday wishes.

<3

Seonghwa smiled at the little heart emoji, doubled tapping it and returning the favor to his savior. He would have liked a call, to be able to hear Tae Min’s voice, but he was just so thankful for the well wishes that he could hardly give those thoughts anymore time in his mind. He finished his sweet treat and decided to take himself for a walk to work off the last of his salon anxiety. Hwa didn’t go that far out of his way, staying within a few blocks of his home when his phone rang again. Another smile broke his face open as he tucked himself out of the way to take the call. The talk with his parents was nice. They had come to understand a lot about his situation and had even been having weekly video calls with his therapist to figure out how best to help him through what had happened to him. To understand what they needed to do to help him. It had been after their second or third conversation with the therapist, that his mother had called him to properly apologize for what she had done after Tae Min had finally brought him home. She now understood how truly wrong it was to force that outfit on him when all that pain was still so very fresh, when he hadn’t even had the chance to process it all himself.

Their talk passed by quicker than Seonghwa wanted it to be, but longer than he had realized. The sun was beginning to set by the time their call was reaching it’s end and his stomach was making him aware that it was very hungry. He was very aware of his surroundings as he spoke and walked until he found the establishment he was looking for. The whole call had been exactly what he needed on his birthday. Kindled with their fledgling understanding of how to help him, Seonghwa felt closer to his parents than he was before marrying Marcus. “Oh eomma, it’s been so good to hear your voice. Tell appa I hope his cold gets better soon. I love you too, ma. See you soon, bye,” Seonghwa whispered into the phone before listening for his mother to hang up first. A tear found its way down his cheek and Hwa quickly wiped it away, momentarily loosing focus on the world around him. “Fuck, just been ruining my makeup all day,” he sighed to himself as he tucked the phone back in his pocket. Seonghwa had basically done nothing all day and it was literally perfect to him. There was a time when that wouldn’t have been enough, but now it was everything. He giggled about it before shaking his head and looking up at the restaurant he stood in front of.

“Park Seonghwa?”

A gasp escaped him at his name being called out and he turned to see Mingi walking up to him. “Song Mingi?”

“What a surprise … wow. You got your hair done today. You look … like you’re wearing HALA gear.” There was clear shock in Mingi’s tone as he looked Seonghwa up and down with that same shock.

“I … am. Your spring line was beautiful. Is it a problem?” he asked when Mingi’s expression didn’t change.

“Problem? No, not at all, it’s just … you’re a friend of the company and I would have insisted on giving you a discount,” Mingi explained, his expression finally softening from the shock. “But it’s in the past now and I can’t change that. We’ll get you that discount next time. It looks fantastic on you by the way,” Mingi stated with an honesty that Seonghwa wasn’t used to.

“Thank you…?” Seonghwa said in uncertainty, knowing the reason it had come out as a question. He watched as Mingi seemed to catch the odd tone, but he didn’t say anything about it, instead continuing to offer a kind smile. “What brings you here tonight?”

“Hongjoong and Jongho bully me into treating myself once a month because I work so hard. Tonight I happen to be in the mood for some sushi and this is the best place near work. I’ve been eager for this actually. What about you?” Mingi explained as he stepped closer to the restaurant, ready to enter when the conversation was done. Seonghwa watched him like a hawk, his mind screaming at him to leave, but he only took a step back and looked like he might run. The question however brought him pause.

“Um … it’s my birthday and I was think about sushi myself,” he admitted in a small voice. Mingi’s face went from confusion to realization in a matter of seconds before he brought a hand to cover his face.

“Fuck. That’s right. San mentioned that this morning and then I got so busy working on the summer drop today. You know what, let me pay for my neglect by buying you dinner, please?” Mingi offered, holding a hand out for Seonghwa if he wanted to take it. Hwa stared hard at the offered hand before bringing his eyes back up to look at Mingi’s face.

“...it’s not a date though, right?”

“Not a date at all. A gift from me to you on your birthday. We don’t even have to sit at the same table,” Mingi promised, a toothy smile on his face that turned his eyes into delicate crescent moons. Seonghwa search that smile for the hidden malice he was used to. For the lie in his words, but when he found neither, he gently placed his hand into the one still waiting for him. They were smaller than Marcus’, only just but, they didn’t feel like they held the same capacity for pain. Seonghwa was still a little stiff as he moved with Mingi toward the door.

“I’d like that gift. Thank you.”