49 , stupid, pretty, ruined face ,
JULY 10
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Felix remembered sitting around in middle school, just waiting for the day he'd wake up and have a crush. Everyone talked this strange phenomenon up so much— he got so curious and excited to see what it was like. He wanted to take part in those whispered lunch-table conversations, too. And he kept waiting. And waiting. And waiting. To the point that he wondered if he'd had one at one point and just didn't realize. Everyone made it sound as if it were impossible not to have one at some point; it was apparently a standard, necessary part of growing up.
If he ever got brave enough to bring up, he first got some light teasing about how he clearly hadn't grown up yet, then got told it was something he'd just feel. He'd know it when he felt it. eventually he began to wonder if perhaps he was stupid or glitching or just very, very oblivious and nonobservant.
"Think about it," Chan had told him. But Felix didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to consider the fact that he might never get to understand what that feeling was; that even after all this waiting and wondering, he'd never get to relate to the billions of love songs on the planet—would never fully comprehend the meaning of the words he sang. No. What he wanted, rather, was for Hyunjin to kiss him until he felt it. Until he was fixed. Normal. Human.
"You're still just as human, Lix."
But with Hyunjin looking at him so expectantly... like it'd be totally unnatural for Felix to not reciprocate his feelings... well, Felix didn't feel just as human.
"We're actually alone this time," Hyunjin laughed. "I checked." He had his hair pulled back; his black eye and purple-green cheekbone on full display, only framed by a delicate wisp of hair falling over his temple. It was almost as if he was showing it off, proud to wear it, as a token of his commitment. Like he was saying, 'I'll do anything to be with you'. Almost.
Worriedly, guiltily, Felix placed the gentlest of hands on his cheek, so careful not to cause him even the slightest bit of pain; no more of it, anyway. He knew why it was there. He knew he had caused it.
Hyunjin didn't seem to care much, though. "Hey, forget about it. It's just a black eye." He smiled grimly, shrugging it off. "I have something more important to talk to you about, 'kay?"
Felix nodded quietly, making no protest, even though he perhaps should have, when Hyunjin looked down, and after a moment spent chewing his lower lip, took hold of each of Felix's hands, gently fiddling with his fingers. Lifting them to his lips to press a soft kiss to them.
He looked nervous; giddy, almost naively so. As if there was nothing in his bruised head but bubblegum bliss. Like his dreams were about to come true. And he coughed up the question, unable to hold back a smile no matter how nervous he was: "Felix... Angel, would you... be my boyfriend?"
And he had barely made it in the door.
Felix went pale. It took several seconds before he was able to stutter out, "Jinnie, I... Right now, I'm not really sure... "
Hyunjin's shoulders drop as his eyes go wide, heavy with shock and disappointment at Felix's hesitance. "What?" Another silence passed between them, during which Hyunjin's hands recoiled from his. "No way." His shoulders dropped heavy like tipped scales. "A-are you... are you seriously about to tell me you don't like me in that way? After you told me to kiss you?"
Felix grimaced, trying to gather up the words. But Hyunjin was faster.
The excitement had completely, hopelessly drained from Hyunjin's face by the time he asked, "...It's Changbin, isn't it? I get it. You... you like him, not me." He crossed his arms.
...Something in Hyunijn's eyes was scaring Felix. Wild and fiery. Untamed and reckless.
"No— I do like you, Jinnie. But I just don't really know how I like you."
"Well maybe you should've figured that out before you asked me to kiss you," Hyunjin snapped.
"Yeah... I guess I should've. 'm sorry... It's just—"
"—Me, too." He hardly missed a beat, continuing, "Get out." How quickly his tone had changed.
Again, Felix was afraid of what might happen if he left. Hyunjin's eyes only grew darker, even with tell-tale signs of tears tightening his voice, and crowding his eyelids. Felix didn't think it was right to leave Hyunjin alone, but what could he do when Hyunjin— just barely keeping from bursting into sobs— shouted, "Go, Felix!"
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Once the tears cleared out enough to let him see, Hyunjin found himself in front of the bathroom mirror.
Ugly. Fucking ugly. That's what he was, what he felt, for the first time in his life.
It was this stupid black eye that made him ugly. That's what made him not good enough for Felix. It hadn't been that big of a deal to him until now— and suddenly, he hated it so much. He didn't care about how much it hurt to close his eye. He didn't care about how worryingly blurry his vision had been on that side even after the swelling went down. All he cared about was that he looked ugly; he felt ugly for the first time.
No, really, he'd felt ugly his entire life— only, it'd been an ugliness hidden away, under the surface. An ugliness that no one would ever know at a glance.
And that's why Felix didn't like him, truly. Why Changbin was better.
Hyunjin was so, so jealous of Changbin because as he saw it, the ugliest thing about Changbin was unconcealable. It was visible from the first second you saw him— his face.
No, shit, he wasn't even ugly. That thought had never entered Hyunjin's mind until he started seeing Changbin as a threat. He was perfectly decent-looking, at the very least.
Hyunjin slammed his fist down on the vanity. It didn't help assuage the anger bubbling within him— he needed something more for that. He looked back up into the mirror, at his stupid, pretty, ruined face. The face that made him popular, but failed to make him loved. He hated that face. And that's why he tried to put his fist through it.
The glass shattered; the blood pooled and ran down his forearm. The face before him was in pieces. It felt better. But it still wasn't enough.
Panting, Hyunjin shook the droplets of blood from his arm, knocking off a few of the shards stuck in his knuckles with a careless swipe of his hand. Fuck, he just needed something to take the pain away— and not the pain in his hand. The rage coiled within his gut was burning him alive and he needed something strong to cool it down. Something, anything to numb it.
As if they belonged to someone else, Hyunjin's feet walked toward the kitchen. He found it littered with empty bottles as usual. Stinking of... alcohol.
He didn't even like the taste. It was repulsive on his tongue; corrosive in his throat. He'd always hated every little thing about this foul drink, even without once trying it in his life. And still, he downed it like water from an oasis— as if he'd been trekking through the desert under a scorching sun— because he hoped so desperately that it would shut off every last troubling sensation that seemed to be squeezing his brain.
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