Not gonna lie didn't think it would have gone on this long. So now I'm not entirely sure what to do.

...

San's POV

...

Hey. I know it's been awhile since we've really talked. I just want to know how you're doing. You're still really the only person I talked to on a regular basis. Not that I don't talk to my friends or family or anything like that. But I'm not as honest with them. Probably because I see them face to face. It's so much easier looking at a screen. Well, I hope you write me back soon. Take care SecretARMY378.

Hey. It's been a couple weeks. Did something happen? Are you alright? Did something happen with your parents? I remember things weren't the best with them. I worry about you, you know. Even of I shouldn't.

Am I pestering you? I'm sorry. I don't mean to be a bother. I just... I'm sorry. I'll stop now. Bye SecretARMY348.

I read through my messages over and over, bile climbing my throat once again. I'd been avoiding Wooyoung, both in real life and on Wattpad. And Bangtanbadboi was starting to notice SecretARMY348's absence. It wasn't like I didn't want to talk to him. Because I did. So badly. But I didn't know what to say to make any of this right. If there was even a way to do that anymore.

I still read his stories though. Damn near every night. They kept me from losing my sanity. They lulled me to sleep. They reminded me of much simpler times in my life, when nothing really mattered. Not my image. Not the problems with mom and dad. Not our torn friend group. All that mattered was each other and our love of the genre. All aspects of it. From the music videos to the variety show appearances to things like this.

Right now I sat curled in the recliner, burritoed inside a large, plush blanket, a mug of hot cocoa hanging out on the coffee table in front of me. I held my phone in two hands, playing Superstar SMTown, but really only scrolling through songs. Not doing much of anything. Seeing how my cards were doing. My absolute treasure on this game was my Love Shot Exo cards, all R level, though some had yet to get more stars than their basic one. Following behind that was NCT 127's Superhuman. And Dream's Boom.

"This isn't fun anymore," I mused to myself, exiting the app and resting the phone on my blanketed stomach, sighing. I always wondered what being out of school on a school day was like. Boring. It was boring. Dad took the TV remote with him to work so I couldn't flip through channels. They left my phone and laptop, and the internet, but there was only so much YouTube I could watch before wanting to rip my hair from my scalp. Only so many games I could play before they began to grow repetitive and stale. "Maybe I could read?" I wondered aloud. But even that was having trouble keeping my focus.

Should I have done what I did? Definitely not. However, I was bound to go off at some point. It's what happened when you bottled up your emotions for so long. I expected a mental breakdown. Not a wave of anger so strong it scared even me when it passed. But Yeosang also had no right to say the things he did, even if they held the truth within them. He didn't have a good excuse to egg me on. Not that day anyway. I'd tried to keep to myself after the incident. But the damage had been done.

"San?" I sighed as mom's voice called out into the calm air. Most days were the same anymore. Mom took time during her lunch break to come and see me. And don't get me wrong, I was thankful for it. But it also served as a reminder that all dad did was come home, throw the remote onto the couch, and leave as quickly as he'd come. I hated seeing the look on mom's face as she watched him leave day in and day out. "How are you baby?" she greeted me at last, poking her head into the living room from the kitchen.

"Good mom," I replied. Always the same answer. Never straying from the norm. She couldn't know. Not when she herself looked two seconds away from the edge. I would hold it together for her sake. If dad wasn't going to be here strong pillar anymore, I sure would. "How are you mom?" I finally unfurled myself from the chair. I padded to the open doorway to the kitchen. She fixed herself a plate of leftovers, her back to me and hands shaking as she placed the plate in the microwave. Sad that the only time they could seem to get along was when it came to my punishments.

I really did try hard to be good for her. She didn't need that extra stress on her shoulders. Tried to get good grades. Do my chores. Help out when she needed. But the harder I tried the more out of reach it seemed. And the farther away it got, the more I felt like a failure. I couldn't live up to the expectations I set for myself because they felt so, so high. I would get close and when I fell just short down I'd tumble.

"San?" I blinked, realizing with mild annoyance my eyelashes came back wet. Mom approached me slowly. I watched her come, taking in her appearance. Deep, purple bags under her eyes. A permanently exhausted expression. Lines around her mouth that weren't from constantly smiling. I wanted to rip dad limb from limb some days. I wanted this nightmare to cease. I just wanted...normal.

...

Wooyoung's POV

...

"Are you actually doing what I think you're doing?" I glanced up as Yeosang approached. He slung his bag off his shoulder and let it thud onto the table in front of him. His lip looked better today. Way less swollen. I focused back on the notebook in front of me, feeling my tongue poked out a little as I concentrated. Last night, pretty much out of the blue, I was bit by the writing bug. I stayed up until two am writing down as much of my idea as I could before I lost it again. Not anything for Color My World unfortunately. But the start of another story entirely. Another Taekook, but this time a mafia au story. I had the first two chapters already done and was plowing through a third.

"Uh huh," I finally responded, my brain catching up to the conversation at last. "This is exactly what it looks like." I could feel Yeosang's beaming smile without even looking up. "I feel refreshed I guess." I took a brief pause, letting the world come back into focus. "I got this idea last night and HAD to get it down before I lost it entirely. I really like how it's turning out so far."

"Can I read it?" Yeosang asked, whole expression practically glowing with hope. I balked at the idea of sharing with anyone outside of Wattpad, but after an internal debate that felt like it lasted a lifetime I carefully flipped the notebook around, skipping back to the beginning of the story. "Wait, really?" Yeosang asked, eyes now impossibly wide. "You never share with me even though I've asked a million times."

"It's not fair to always keep you in the dark," I reasoned. "Besides this is such a large part of my life. It seems natural I'd want to share it." Yeosang glanced down. "From here." I pointed to the top paragraph. "To here." I flipped a couple pages over, to a break in the chapter. "That's all Taehyung's point of view. Tell me what you think so far."

"Alright," Yeosang agreed brightly, pulling the notebook to himself and settling into his seat a bit more comfortably. I sat back in my own, resisting the urge to bite my pen cap, a nervous habit I dropped in middle school. Or so I thought. With neither of us saying anything right that second, the silence stretched on comfortably, interrupted occasionally by the librarian scanning books back in and someone else in the library quietly thumbing through their own book. Hardly anyone came here before classes, which is why Yeosang and I came here most mornings.

"Wooyoung?" I looked up as Yunho approached. I waved a hand to the available seat, which he took, looking relieved. He looked entirely less threatening in his glasses and an oversized blue sweater, though still very broad shouldered. "Got anything new going on?" he asked, waving a hand to the notebook clutched in Yeosang's hands.

"Shhh." Yeosang interrupted. Yunho and I exchanged a look. I averted my gaze only when Yunho quirked his eyebrow so he wouldn't see me trying to hide a grin. "Alright Wooyoung," Yeosang suddenly exclaimed, slamming the notebook onto the table. "Keep writing. That's so good. And I need to know more."

"Thank you," I replied, flushing at his praise. I accepted the notebook back from him, studying my writing for a second. Yunho outstretched his hand, the sleeve falling back as he made grabby fingers at me. My turn to side eye him.

"Can I read it too?" he asked. "San said your writing is really good. And I haven't read anything from you since year seven." My grip on the notebook tightened ever so slightly. I could feel my insides churning at the thought. But I shoved it all down as I relinquished the notebook to him. We locked eyes again. "Thank you," he said softly, thumbing through the pages, sizing it up before he actually read it. "You sure you trust me?"

"No," I answered honestly. He inclined his head at that. "I don't trust you. But I also know that I'm never going to get passed this if I don't step out of my comfort zone a little. I'm tired of fearing the people that I once called my friends." It was nothing but the truth, yet my words seemed to crush Yunho like a boulder. He hunched over nearly double, taking a deep breath or two before he popped back up. He cleared his throat and turned his attention to the page, leaving Yeosang and I to sit and twiddle our thumbs.

"Damn," he swore softly when he reached the same point Yeosang stopped on. "And that's just the first chapter so far?" I nodded, biting the inside of my cheek gently as I decided what to do next. Yunho handed it back to me. "I bet your fans will like that," Yunho added. My eyes widened.

"What?" Yeosang asked, glancing between the two of us. "What fans? As far as I know Wooyoung doesn't share with anyone." Yunho's expression morphed into one of confusion.

"Didn't he tell you he publishes his stuff on Wattpad?" he asked. And for a second time I wanted to sink into the floor. Yeosang turned a sharp eye to me. I sunk in my seat, face burning. "Oh," Yunho said, suddenly realizing. "To be fair I didn't know that either." Oh god he was only making it worse. "San was the one who told Mingi and I about his stuff."

"Wait, SAN has read your stories?" Yeosang asked, standing and pacing between the tables. "You won't even let me read them. Why does San get to?" But now I felt just as lost as he did.

"I didn't know San even read my stories," I defended. "It's not like he's made a point in telling me that." Some of the anger in Yeosang evaporated. "Do you by chance happen to know his pen name?" This I directed at Yunho. He shook his head furiously.

"He just said that your stories are his favorite," he said. "And that you were the reason he liked any of the ships he does." I frowned thoughtfully. Yeosang resumed his previous position. I pulled my phone out and logged into Wattpad from the web browser. I skimmed through some comments on my stories, trying to see if anything could jog a memory. Nothing in Rock-a-bye. I switched over to Hold Me Tightly, and the very first comment stopped me in my tracks.

SecretARMY378: I've read this story over and over. You're the reason I even like BTS. So thank you. Without you and this story, I wouldn't have found something I loved.

"Oh my god." The phone slipped from my grip and clattered to the table. The low chit chat ceased as both Yeosang and Yunho turned to look at me. "Oh my God I think I know who he is." I said, the shock and hurt coming back all kver again.

San was SecretARMY378. San was the one I'd told everything to. And he did nothing about it.

...

Dun Dun duuuuuuun. Wooyoung wasn't the only one bit by that writing bug. Don't worry I'll reveal his writing in the next chap.