It's been nine days since Felix and Han's hangout.

The lights of the university library hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow on Felix's freckled face as he hunched over his laptop. Cybersecurity was his passion, a world of intricate codes and ever-shifting threats that fascinated him.

But the constant drone of the library, the whispers of other students, and the occasional snide comment about his "freckled face" made it hard to concentrate.

Felix had always been different. His skin, speckled with a constellation of star-like freckles, made him a target for bullies. "Freckle-face," "spotty," "gingerbread man" - the taunts followed him like a persistent shadow. It wasn't just the words; it was the exclusion, the sidelong glances, the feeling of being a foreigner.

xx

One evening, he'd been walking home from university, the usual route, when a group of his classmates had cornered him.

"Look who it is," sneered Heejin, the ringleader, her voice dripping with venom. "Freckle-face Felix, lost in his own little world."

The others echoed his laughter, their taunts like sharp stones chipping away at Felix's already fragile self-esteem. "Dirty," sneered another, pointing a mocking finger at Felix's face. "Like a spotted dog."

Tears welled up in Felix's eyes, blurring his vision. He tried to shrink away, to become invisible, but they were already closing in, their laughter growing louder, their voices more cruel.

"You don't belong here, freak," Taeil spat, shoving Felix against the brick wall of an abandoned building.

The impact knocked the breath out of him. He slid down the wall, his knees hitting the cold, damp ground. He curled into a ball, his hands covering his face, trying to block out the cruel laughter, the hurtful words, the suffocating fear.

"You're such a loser," another voice sneered. "Nobody wants you here." The blows and kicks rained down on him, a sickening rhythm of pain. He cried out, a muffled sound swallowed by the darkness. He felt dizzy, disoriented, the world tilting precariously on its axis. He was fading, slipping away, the edges of his vision darkening.

Felix didn't know how long he'd been there for when a voice, a familiar voice, cut through the haze of pain.

"Felix! Felix, are you alright?"

The voice was like a lifeline, pulling him back from the abyss. He recognised it too. It was Han.

Han. His best friend. His protector.

And then, everything went silent.

xx

The late evening sun cast long shadows across the alleyway. Han, humming along to a stray tune, navigated the narrow passage, a stack of takeout boxes balanced in his arms.

He was on a mission: to deliver much-needed food to his starving 3Racha hyungs, currently locked away in the studio, fueled by nothing but caffeine and an unhealthy obsession with their latest beat.

As he rounded the corner, his gaze fell upon a dark alleyway, a pool of murky shadows. He peered into the alleyway, his breath catching in his throat. There, huddled against the cold brick wall, lay a figure. Blood stained the pavement around them, a dark crimson stain against the gray concrete.

Han's stomach lurched. He rushed towards the figure, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs. It was Felix. His best friend, pale and still, his face a mask of pain.

Panic clawed at Han's throat. He knelt beside Felix, his hands trembling as he gently shook his shoulder. "Felix! Felix, are you alright?"

There was no response, only the eerie silence that followed. Han's eyes darted around frantically, searching for any sign of the attacker. But there was nothing.

He had to get Felix help. But where? The hospital? The police? No, those places were too risky and there was no time.

He had to get Felix to his house. It was the safest option. He could tend to his wounds, keep him safe from prying eyes, and then, when Felix was strong enough, they could figure out what to do next.

He gently lifted Felix, his body surprisingly light, and carefully carried him out of the alleyway, leaving behind only the lingering scent of blood and the echo of Han's pounding heart.
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I hope it's not that cliche

-M★