So I've put up the first chapter. Slow start. But that's exactly how it goes all the time.

What's everyone listening to these days? I've really been enjoying NCT Dream's Boom. And I'm getting prepared for Up10tion's comeback and X1's debut

...

Junmyeon paced his small room, reaching up to tug at his hair. Not a drop had passed his lips in the week he'd been here. Cold turkey quit. And the first few days had been pure bliss, bouncing between the light feeling of freedom and happiness. True happiness. He attended his therapy sessions even if he never did more than mumble out a few replies. He did his scheduled activities like a good little lackey. But now the craving was beginning to consume him, and with it a new feeling he thought he'd long suppressed.

Pain.

Junmyeon's thoughts were not happy ones, nor were they kind to the meat sack they piloted. It was almost suffocating, really, trying desperately to tell yourself you were only going to get better when a little voice at the back of your mind told you relentlessly that you were only a failure. Maybe his dad had been right. Maybe he really was better off dead some days. Junmyeon longed to drown the voices at the bottom of a bottle like so many times in the past. Alcohol became his solution. His salvation.

"Junmyeon?" Said male glanced up wearily, blinking at his nurse who poked her head into his open doorway. "You're late for therapy," she reminded him. Junmyeon looked to the clock on the wall, realizing she was right but also not really caring right now. "You'd better get going or Dr. Lee isn't going to be happy," she gently prodded him. But instead Junmyeon sank to the floor, his knees pulled to his chest and his breathing coming out ragged. He felt like he was drowning on land with no way out.

"I'll go," he managed to choke out around his panic. "Just give me a few minutes to get there." She pursed her lips and studied the man on the floor. Of course she knew of his conditions. Alcoholism with backgrounds of abuse and neglect. Her natural instinct was to intervene, but her training said leave it be. Those fighting addictions could be unstable. There was no sense risking herself to try and comfort the man, even if all she wanted to do was wrap her arms around him.

Junmyeon heard her footfalls fading as she let him be, and with her presence gone he stabled his breathing. Their help felt suffocating. His life felt more meaningless than ever. What kind of man was he? Washed out at twenty five with nothing to his name and a failed marriage under his belt. Sent to get help with problems he thought he had a handle on. He was a waste of a man. A failure of a human.

He dried his cheeks of tears he didn't even know he could produce, slowly unfurling himself so he was sprawled on his back instead, gazing up unfocused at the ceiling, chest heaving as he attempted to get air into his lungs. He closed his eyes and mentally counted to ten, a trick he'd learned at therapy. Anything big now will seem insignificant in a few minutes' time. Just count and breathe. Center yourself. All those thoughts ran through his head as he pulled himself away from the edge once again, not falling this particular today.

"Junmyeon, you're late," Dr. Lee greeted when he shuffled into her office. He sat down wordlessly, embarrassment burning his cheeks. He mumbled something, though even to his own ears it sounded of nonsense. He peeked up to see her scribbling something down in her notebook. Her notes on him, like he was just some interesting science experiment and not a human being. "Is there a reason?" she finally asked, glancing up to catch his eye. But he ducked his head again, giving it a small shake, like he didn't trust himself with the words. She also wrote that down. All week he'd been very verbal. She did briefly wonder what brought this on. Then she watched his hands fly to his hair, tugging harshly as he mumbled to himself.

"Stupid," he murmured, unaware he was saying everything out loud. "Stupid, worthless boy. No one can love you. Not your mother. And certainly not I..." A strangled sob passed his lips, and Dr. Lee copied down his monologue word for word. It was important to his recovery after all. "You're just a waste of space. Why don't you just go die, huh? It would be so much better if you were gone."

"Junmyeon," she finally interjected, and he blinked, his hands falling limp to his sides as he seemed to sink back to reality. "Did you hear that a lot?" she asked. Of course it was a blunt question. Men like Junmyeon needed straightforward questions so they had no room to fumble with answers. "Did your dad say things like that to you growing up?" Junmyeon sat back in his seat, chest heaving once again as the weight he always carried around him threatened to finally fall and crush him. Dr. Lee wrote down his physical response to the question, but still needed a verbal answer. So she waited while the panicked man pulled himself together.

"Yes," he finally answered, swiping a hand across his swollen face, ridding it of the last of his tears. "I heard words like that a lot growing up. He wasn't exactly subtle with his disdain for me. Some days I wondered why he didn't kick me out of the house outright if he hated me so much." His words came out hurriedly, like he'd lose them if he didn't get them out. "But then I'd kind of trick myself into believing that he must love me because, despite his complaining, he never did kick me out. But he probably didn't want the legal trouble of booting a minor to the curb, so he kept me until I left of my own accord and hasn't looked back."

"And your mom?" Dr. Lee asked, leaning forward in her chair slightly. They'd talked a lot of his alcoholism, his friendship with Chanyeol and Baekhyun, his homelessness, and even briefly touched on his marriage. But his parents were the one subject he steered away from. Until today it seemed. Junmyeon snorted, looking to a poster on the wall. The steps to calming oneself down when you got worked up. How painfully ironic.

"She cared about me even less," he spat bitterly. "She dumped me with dad when I was a newborn and didn't seem to notice I was alive. She would float in and out of my life so fast I often wondered if I just imagined her. She was always off chasing her next fixation. Whether it be her boyfriend of the week, her career that had hit a standstill somewhere around my fifth birthday, or literally anything that kept her from being a parent. The only reason I'm not sitting in some dumpster somewhere as an aborted pile of cells is because she was pressured into carrying me full term by her parents. I'm sure she resents me just as much. It was supposed to be a fling, not a commitment." Junmyeon sat back again, staring wide eyed at Dr. Lee, who simply wrote calmly in her notebook.

"I think we've made some progress today," she said at last, setting her pen down. "Now we can really begin to help you heal. That's all we want Junmyeon. Our end goal isn't to hurt you." He felt tears annoyingly stinging his eyes again. He nodded slowly, taking a deep, shaky breath.

"Alright," he said. "I give. What can I do?" Dr. Lee simply smiled, closing her notebook. It wasn't a huge start, not by any means, but it was a start nonetheless.

...

Yixing sat in the back seat of Yifan's car once again, tense over the thought of what they were about to do. All week they'd prepped Zitao for this step, smothering him with love and saying they weren't just abandoning him. Yifan especially would hold Zitao close and murmur he was doing this because he loved the smaller man so much, and he just didn't want to lose him entirely. That this was going to help him. That he would be surrounded by people who only wanted what was best for him. Zitao remained pretty wordless and compliant during the whole thing. The day of he packed a small bag of his belongings, anything he thought he would need while he was there or anything he held dear.

"Remember," Yifan said for perhaps the twentieth time since they all sat down in the car. "We aren't abandoning you. I'm not doing this because I don't love you. I do love you. So much. And I realize that whatever you're going through I can't magically heal on my own."

"I know," Zitao whispered. Resigned. He seemed to accept whatever was coming, and Yixing wasn't sure if he was impressed or terrified by that prospect. He would give anything to hear the thoughts in the other man's head, especially when the building came into sight and his hands clutched his backpack a little tighter. They'd filled out the application online, Yifan and Zitao, so they just had to admit him and have the tour they gave.

"We'll both visit you often, alright Taozi," Yixing said, and Zitao twisted to look back at him, a thousand emotions dancing across his expression before dropping back into a neutral one. He nodded once, and Yixing reached up and ruffled his hair. "Alright," Yixing said, climbing out of the car and gazing up at the three storey structure. It seemed...not intimidating, per se, but not exactly welcoming either. Somewhere in between. "Ready Tao?" he asked as the other man sidled up to him.

"I guess," he said. Yifan took his place on the other side of Zitao, taking the smaller male's hand in his. "So... They'll help me get better."

"They're going to try their hardest to help," Yifan replied, pressing a gentle kiss to Zitao's temple. "It's not going to happen overnight. It's going to take work. On both ends." He gently gripped Zitao's shoulders and forced them to look at each other. "Please cooperate, alright? I know you don't want to talk to us about what's going on, but at least talk to your doctors. Your therapists." Zitao teared up for the first time all week, sniffling a little as Yifan's arms instantly went around him.

Yixing watched on, of course, not wanting to intrude. He felt like an outsider looking in, but he also knew he'd experienced one of Zitao's attempts himself. He knew this would be what was best for him in the end. Even if it hurt to leave him here.

The tour was exactly like Yixing expected, which wasn't necessarily a bad thing. It was a nice place. They saw Zitao's temporary room, the pool and various game rooms, met with a couple therapists he would see weekly. Yifan seemed grateful for this whole thing, while Zitao seemed anxious as always, casting his eyes around like he expected something to be lurking around every corner.  Yixing was kind of bored of the guide's monotonous voice, actually, stifling a yawn and stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans, also looking around. He could see other residents scurrying around, off to assigned activities or wandering aimlessly to fill their time. Would Zitao soon be like one of them?

"Do you want to come in?" Yifan asked, pulling Yixing from his thoughts. He glanced up, seeing Zitao's room. He quickly shook his head.

"I will say my goodbyes in a minute," he said. "Go in. Be there for him for a little longer." Yifan's expression softened as he nodded and ducked through the doorway, closing it behind him. Yixing leaned against the wall opposite the door, closing his eyes. He thought about applying to different local newspapers to start getting an income. Or maybe shooting for the big leagues flat out and seeing if he could land a job at the magazines. That was his real dream. Especially since they would transcend countries depending on the content. He wanted his voice to be heard by the masses some day. He knew he could get there. He was yanked violently from his thoughts when a body slammed into his.

"Sorry, sorry," the man muttered, moving off without so much as looking at who he collided with. Yixing shook his head, watching him stagger away. Long, shaggy hair and a haunted look on his expression, like he was lost and didn't know which way to go to get out. Yixing involuntarily shivered. Would Tao be like men like that soon? Stumbling about without a spirit, ghosting the halls in search if something he could never find?

"Xingie." He snapped his gaze up at Zitao's voice, finally stepping inside the room to bid the man farewell. They weren't leaving him to his own devices. Not really. But it almost felt like it.

...

My neighbor's little boy, who I've known since the day he was born, came down to our house tonight to invite me over to watch BTS on the Radio Disney Music Awards, cause he knows I love them.