Getting closer and closer. I may actually accomplish this way before schedule. Wouldn't that be nice.

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Wooyoung's POV

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With no work to do after school and Yeosang occupied with visiting family, I wasn't sure what to do with my time. I went home and changed from my school uniform into sweats and a loose t-shirt. I sat cross-legged on my bed, powering up my laptop to see all the new reviews. I threw the new chapter up before I went to bed last night, and I was quite sure most of my regular reviewers had already read all of it. My heart rate sped up, however, when I saw the personal message for me. I felt myself blushing lightly, shaking out of my daze and clicking on it.

Hey. First off, that was a fantastic chapter. But god damn you really tugged at my heartstrings. I wasn't expecting you to actually potentially kill off Jungkook, but here you are you psychopath. Write faster this time please. We're all waiting. Otherwise you're just an asshole.

Hopefully those bullies don't bother you too much this time around. Take care, okay?

I flopped backwards onto the bed, the ceiling spinning lazily above me. It felt like I was free falling with no bottom, but for some reason I didn't mind this one. I had no idea who this guy was, if it was even a guy at all. He could be a twelve year old girl or a fifty year old man for all I knew. But there was no denying the butterflies nesting in my stomach whenever his user name crossed my mind. Making me feel all light and fluttery. I groaned, smashing a pillow against my face.

"Wooyoung?" I sat up, closing the laptop and arranging my pillows neatly again. Mom cracked the door open. I moved to sit on the edge of the bed. "What did you want for dinner tonight?" she asked. My stomach gave a little grumble, reminding me I hadn't had anything to eat at lunch today. I skipped the cafeteria and headed straight for the library, hunching in a corner and hoping not to get noticed. "Wanna just order take out?" she asked at last. "I'm not feeling in a cooking mood tonight."

"Sure," I answered. She disappeared with a smile, and I was left alone again. I still didn't know what I wanted to do with my time. I could write, I suppose. But I hit a kind of wall over the last chapter and didn't feel like slogging through it. I did my best work when I wasn't forcing it. I could also try re-writing that Namjin story I lost, but the thought didn't appeal to me either. I sighed, scooting back and leaning against the wall, closing my eyes. I really needed more friends.

It was twisted and strange, but some days... I missed those days. I definitely missed my hyungs and I missed Jongho. I hadn't seen him much this year. Just occasionally passed him in the hallways. But he always avoided eye contact with us, and I couldn't blame him. We'd all split up and left him behind. But I also kind of missed San, Yunho, and Mingi. Some of my favorite memories were made with them involved. When it was the eight of us together and nothing could go wrong. Picnics and walks through our local parks. Lotte World trips every summer, chores being the way we paid our tickets. Movie nights where San would end up throwing most of the bowl of popcorn at us and Hongjoong would purposely pick horror because they made Mingi scream. Dinner dates with all eight of us squished into the booth, a tight fit, but we'd never minded. When BTS were rookies and Yunho, San, and I would practice their routines and put on shows for the others. I missed it all.

I missed them.

"Wooyoung?" I opened my eyes, blinking a couple times when I realized my vision was a bit cloudy. Mom frowned thoughtfully, worry flashing across her features. "Are you okay sweetie?" she asked when I finally focused on her. "You looked like you were crying." I swiped a hand under my eyes, and to my own annoyance they came back wet. I angrily wiped the rest away.

"I'm fine," I lied, even though a part of me felt like it was breaking inside. But she didn't know anything was wrong. She just knew everyone stopped coming around. "Just a bit overwhelmed." Which definitely wasn't a lie. But I didn't elaborate either. Her nose scrunched in a way I was all too familiar with. She didn't believe me. But she just sighed and moved off, closing the door. I huffed out a breath, angry at myself for letting my emotions get the better of me again. This wasn't how I was supposed to behave. I was supposed to be unshakable. Let it all roll off my shoulders and not say a word about it. I'd been dealing with it for far too long. I should have been immune by now.

Except... I wasn't. It hurt. A lot. More than I ever let anyone know. Not mom or dad. Not Yeosang. Every little thing chipped away at me, finding kinks in my armor and wiggling their way in. Eating away at my mind until it felt like it might dissolve and bleed out through my ears. It sucked. Some days I felt on top of the world and untouchable. Other days I felt like someone was stacking large stones on my chest and telling me to take a deep breath, knowing full well if I did I'd crush myself. And I knew I shouldn't have been feeling that way. But I also didn't know how to change it.

"Dinner." Dad's voice cut through the fog next, knocking me from the perch I'd scrambled up. I sagged, weighed down by my own conscious, and rose at last, cracking my back. I paused at the doorway, glancing back into a room that screamed fanboy. Posters, cluttered desk, bookshelf overflowing with things. My gaze lingered on my shelf of albums, my hard earned money in physical form. I flicked my gaze over to the desk, piled with notebooks, pen sets, and stickers. A few odd books almost dangled off the side.

I shut the door at last, closing off my safe haven, plunging another world into darkness. Sometimes I was proud to wear my fandom colors and proclaim my love of all things geeky. Other days I wanted to take a match to it and finally be normal.

...

San's POV

...

Normal. Was anyone ever truly a "normal" human. We all had our quirks. Some of us sang songs to finish mundane tasks. Others spent an inhuman amount of time being transported to other worlds, whether by books or by games. Yet another group spent their days with headphones permanently glued to their heads, drowning out the real world with soft melodies and catchy beats. And a few hid a hobby they didn't want the world to know.

"Whatcha doing?" I barely glanced up as Mingi let himself into my room. I texted him and told him to come, craving company but not wanting Yunho. Everything felt so strained and tense right now. I wasn't sure what to think anymore. "Did you hear about the note?" Mingi asked, his expression lighting up. "That was great! That had to have been your doing, right? No one else ever calls him a freak but you." And once again it felt like my stomach was trying to eat itself alive. I met his excited gaze with a confused one of my own. "It wasn't you?" he asked, his smile fading. "Yunho?" I shook my head.

"We thought you did," I admitted. "Because neither I nor Yunho did it." His jaw dropped. "So someone else is doing this." I turned my attention back to my previous task, and Mingi peeked around me to see what I was up to. His nose wrinkled when he caught sight of what I was doing. My eyes skimmed the pages in front of me. "What?" I asked, daring him to say anything.

"You don't strike me as a reader," was all Mingi said, perching on the edge of my bed and leaning forward slightly. "Alright San, spill it. What's going on?" I finally turned my attention fully to him. "There's something wrong," he stated. "You haven't been yourself lately. What's wrong?" I slowly shook my head.

"Not now Mingi," I said, spinning around. I couldn't tell him. I couldn't say anything without revealing BangtanBadBoi, and inadvertently myself. But the more I talked to BangtanBadBoi, the worse I felt about Wooyoung. But I also couldn't stop. I'd already dug my grave. Now I had to lie in it. I yelped when my chair was spun around and I was face to face with Mingi. He narrowed his eyes at me, seeming pissed.

"Bullshit," he spat, and I winced. "You bottle things up and bottle things up and one day you're going to explode if you don't just fucking talk to someone!" I simply stared, wide eyed and heart racing. Mingi hardly ever yelled. The fire died in his eyes and he pulled back. "Quit pretending you're made of stone San. It's okay to have emotions you know."

"I know," I answered carefully. "I'm not pretending I'm emotionless. Don't worry so much, okay? I have an outlet, I promise. I guess I'm pretending to be something I'm not." Mingi's gaze softened a little. "You know I've garnered a reputation for myself. One of a careless bad boy who's skin is so thick nothing can penetrate it when really that's not who I am at all." Once the floodgates were opened it was coming, whether I was ready or not. "But I did this to myself. So I can't stop now or I'll look like a coward with something to hide instead of just a straight up monster." I pulled my leg up onto the chair and hugged my knee, peeping at Mingi to gauge his reaction. He pondered it for awhile.

"Is it Wooyoung?" he asked, and just hearing his name felt like a slap in the face. I could only bring myself to nod, my throat closing on me. "He's weird though," Mingi continued, though there was no malice in his tone whatsoever. "He writes fanfictions. Gay fanfictions. He's sensitive even though he doesn't need to be. He cares too much... About everything..." Mingi trailed off, looking as lost as Yunho looked. "He always cared too much didn't he?" he asked quietly, folding his hands on his lap and looking anywhere but at me. "He was like our mother hen, right after Hongjoong hyung. He was always there, making sure we felt wanted and loved."

"Yeah..." I said, sinking in my seat a little. And we repayed his kindness by blasting his secrets for the world to see and alienating him for daring to be any sort of different. "Let's stop talking about this, okay." I said at last, rising from my sitting position. "Let's order cheap food and watch crappy movies on TV. Mom and dad aren't home anyway. I need to do something different." I turned and marked my place quick. Mingi followed my movements.

"What are you reading anyway?" he asked. Not scornfully this time. Just curious. My gaze flicked back, catching the blue out of the corner of my eye. I bit my lip.

"It's called The Novice," I said, ushering him out of my room and closing the door. I left it at that, and he didn't push, thank god. I had no explanation for this one. If he did push, he'd figure out if was Wooyoung's recommendation.

Mingi kept me company the rest of the night. We ordered cheap rice noodles from a take out place across town, throwing some random drama on the TV. We ate our noodles and enjoyed each other's company. It felt nice, finally enjoying some time with one of my friends without having to worry about much of anything.

But as the night progressed and our laughter faded, replaced with even breathing, I found myself spinning around the same thoughts over and over. Was BangtanBadBoi alright? He hadn't replied to me yet. Were his bullies bothering him again today? Was his mental health okay today? From what he'd told us, it sounded like he struggled with some sort of depression.

I pulled the blanket up to my chin and rolled over the face the back of the couch, closing my eyes. Enough worrying for tonight. It wasn't even my business. I didn't know him. So why did I care so much.

...

Well holy crap. Apparently I just need to be home lol.