Aww for the first time ever it didn't say 11 after I wrote chapter sad face.

I haven't done much writing for this but I do have a few chapters on standby. So I'm going to publish one so you guys still have content. Also go listen to Your Gravity by Up10tion because the song is a bop and has been stuck in my head for two days.

...

Junmyeon hauled himself out of the surprisingly large pool, sitting at the edge and letting his feet dangle into the water. He watched water droplets race tracks down his chest, poking at his exposed ribs and wincing at how thin he'd let himself become. He didn't realize how little he ate that whole time, though the more he thought about it, the more sense it made. He hadn't much cared for food in the last few months. Just when the next burning feeling down his throat would appear.

He watched another man and a woman enter next, clad in their borrowed swim suits and talking in hushed voices. He glanced up to the ceiling and then at the clock, estimating he had only fifteen minutes left of his allotted hour for swim time. It was an odd feeling, being on a schedule and doing everything right on the hour. It was a discipline he never experienced before.

All his life he lived on a sort of "I'll get to it when I get to it" mentality. He never set himself up on any sort of schedule except for school. His father didn't care and his mother pretended he didn't exist. Why would he care about disciplining himself? But as he did his schedule and stuck to it day after day, he realized he'd been sorely lacking in his life. This schedule helped him feel stable. It helped him feel sane. Especially now, as the last of the alcohol was working its way through his body. Some nights he would lie awake and shake so badly he thought he would send his bed to the opposite wall. Other nights he would clutch his pillow and sob uncontrollably. It was few and far between he would ever sleep peacefully, forever plagued by a past he wished so bad to drown out.

"Junmyeon?" A familiar voice yanked him from his thoughts and nearly sent him tumbling back into the water below. He glanced up and was shocked to see none other than Huang Zitao, a towel wrapped around his shoulders. Junmyeon blinked up at the man, hardly believing it. What was Tao of all people doing in a place like this? He had a home, and a career, and people who cared about him. Everything Junmyeon longed to have. Then he noticed the other man's stomach. Ugly red lines criss crossed their way across his skin. Some looked so old they were almost completely healed. Some looked fresh, still bright and raised. Junmyeon looked away as Zitao promptly shifted his towel to cover his middle, heat exploding on his cheeks. "What are you doing here?" Zitao finally asked, sitting beside Junmyeon at the edge of the pool, letting his toes dangle into the water below.

"Same as everyone else," Junmyeon said at last. "Came here to get well. It's been a rough few years. Turned to alcohol and bar hopping to hide away my sorrows. Finally shit just hit the fan and Baekhyun and Chanyeol found me sleeping in an alleyway with nothing to my name."

"Wow we haven't seen you in awhile then," Zitao said, fiddling with his towel and looking down at the water with a frown. "You probably wanna know why I'm here, huh?" Junmyeon started at that. He wasn't one to push boundaries. "After all, I have every man's ideal life, right?" The Chinese male turned, cocking his head to the side and studying the flustered man beside him. "Loving boyfriend. A career that could skyrocket any moment. A nice townhouse that we've bought out and keep well maintained. My group of friends that love me beyond all measure."

"I never said..." Junmyeon began, but the look on Zitao's face stopped him cold. Sadness. Guilt. Regret. A thousand emotions all gone in the blink of an eye. But mostly sadness. A depth of sadness Junmyeon wasn't sure he would ever witness on someone else again.

"Do you have any idea what it's like to wake up, day after day, look at your reflection in the mirror, and decide that you hate the sight of yourself?" Zitao asked. Once again Junmyeon was nearly rocked from his seat. "Do you know how it feels to have a little voice at the back of your head telling you how worthless you are, and how little meaning your life has, even if the logical side of yourself tells you over and over that things aren't that bad? How liberating this felt?" The towel dropped away as Zitao exposed his stomach once again, brushing his fingers against a particularly long, puffy scar. "And how fucked up it is knowing that you can stop this. Your mind is screaming at you to stop. That there's so many better options. But it's like your body just can't?"

"I..." Junmyeon trailed off, rendered utterly speechless. Any word of comfort would seem meaningless right now. What was he supposed to say to that? Sorry pal. Well, have a nice day! No. Junmyeon wasn't used to providing comfort to anyone. How could he, when he couldn't even comfort himself. Zitao pulled his knees up to his chest, his arms circling around his legs, and Junmyeon caught sight of more scars. Not as ugly or as jagged. He wondered briefly where they came from, then decided he didn't want to know after all.

"Sorry Jun," Zitao suddenly apologized. "You don't need this emotional shitstorm loaded onto your shoulders. It's just..." Zitao pursed his lips thoughtfully, and all Junmyeon could think to do was sit and listen quietly. He understood the need to spill it out before you lost your resolve. All too well. "I can't talk with Yifan about it. He would blame himself. But it's not his fault. It's... I guess it's mine huh? My own fault I fell so far down my dark little hole with no way out."

"Not really," Junmyeon finally responded. Zitao jerked a little but was rendered speechless, so all he could do was open and close his mouth a little. "There's something phycologically wrong. A chemical imbalance? Or perhaps a deep seated fear. But you, all on your own, aren't the cause of it. At least not in its entirety." Zitao tilted his head to the side, a thoughtful pout on his lips.

"I guess," he said at last, shedding the towel fully and plunging into the frigid water. Junmyeon watched Zitao swim a few laps before rising, wrapping his own towel tighter around his own body. Now for one of the things he'd been absolutely dreading.

Alcoholics Anonymous.

...

Yixing glanced up from his paper when the front door creaked. He watched Yifan through slitted eyes. He was deathly worried about his dear cousin, who couldn't seem to function normally without little Zitao around. He would stumble from room to room like he was looking for something he couldn't have, a dazed and melancholy look on his face. He had gone back to work, if the briefcase at his side said anything, but it kind of felt like his body was on autopilot, going through the motions without feeling any of it.

"I made dinner." Yixing called his soft greeting into the suffocating silence, hoping to get some kind of response from the older male. All Yifan did was poke his face into the kitchen wearily and immediately duck back out, disappearing into his office upstairs. Yixing sighed, rising and putting the leftover black bean noodles in a container in case Yifan wanted it later. He returned to his spot at the table, worrying his lower lip with his teeth, contemplating what to do next. He needed a job. That was obvious. He pulled up help wanted ads in the area, wrinkling his nose at the selection. He sighed once again, closing his laptop and fleeing to the safety of the living room. He sat on one end of the small sofa, tucking his legs under him, his phone in hand. He needed some familiar voices.

"Yixing!" He smiled fondly when his mother's voice sounded through the small device, tinny but full of love nonetheless. "How's Korea darling? Have you found a job yet? How are Yifan and Zitao?" Yixing chuckled to himself, feeling a lot of his stress melting away as she kept talking. "Hold on your father wants to speak too." Some rustling, followed by a dog bark. Yixing smiled. "And Wan," his mother added.

"Who's a good boy, huh?" Yixing asked over the phone. He was rewarded with some excited yipping. He chuckled again, feeling a little homesick but still hopeful. "Korea is beautiful, actually. About as picturesque as we were made to believe. I want to go see the sea soon. And no, I haven't found a job quite yet. That will come though."

"That's right," Yixing's father spoke up. "Ease yourself into life over there. It's a big adjustment." A small pause. "We're proud of you though. It's not easy to leave everything you know behind." Yixing found himself warmed by the words. No matter what he did, he always found himself surrounded by their acceptance, support, and love. He was fortunate to grow up with the set of parents he did.

"There was an offer at a local diner for a chef," he added as a kind of afterthought. "I suppose if all else fails I could apply there. I do still whip up some fantastic traditional dishes. Though you both know my passion lies in the journalism field." He eased himself onto his side, slowly stretching out on the sofa. It felt nice to talk with his parents. Relaxing. He missed them. A lot. "Enough about me," he said at last. "What about you two? Any wild parties in my absence?"

"Totally," came his father's quick reply. Yixing full out laughed at that. "No, your mother and I have been busy," his Father continued. "Mostly work stuff. Though, get this. We're planning a vacation!"

"Just the two of you?" Yixing asked, his lips ticking up at the sides. In all the years he'd been born, his parents never once took a break for themselves. Their time was entirely devoted to him. They loved it that way.

"Oh you should see the small cabin we've rented," his mother gushed. "Right on the edge of a lake. Close to the forest. Open field across from us. It's going to be magical." Yixing smiled along, transported back in time. Trips like that were common when he was small. Camping in the woods. Small beach huts with straw roofs. Fishing in small ponds. Wandering and exploring the beautiful, wonderful world. He was taught early on to enjoy the small things in life. And respect and treasure the world around him.

"Sounds wonderful," he agreed. Movement from the corner of his eye captured his attention and he swivelled in his position. He watched Yifan ghost through the kitchen. "Yifan's here," he told his parents. "I'd better get going."

"Alright darling, take care," his mother said as he rose. "We love you."

"Love you too," he mumbled, hanging up the phone as his feet carried him to the kitchen. He paused in the doorway, watching Yifan brew a pot of coffee in one corner and microwave the leftovers in the other, all the while mumbling to himself. "Yifan?" Yixing finally asked. Yifan jerked back, spinning on his heels to face the shorter of the two men, eyes wide and wild. "You okay?" Yixing asked. The fire died as quick as it came. Yifan slumped against the counter, eyes downcast.

"What if... What if it isn't enough?" he choked out. "What if they can't help Tao? Xingie, I'd be so lost without him. We've known each other since year six. Dated since year nine. I've built a future around him. He can't... He can't just... Not be a part of it." Tears freely dripped of his cheeks, and he made no move to wipe them away. "What if he doesn't get well there? I already know he's never going to be the same. But what if I never get him back at all." Yixing pursed his lips, thinking carefully about what to say. Right now Yifan was like glass; one wrong move and he'd shatter completely.

"You know as well as I do this isn't a cure all," he began, treading lightly. He knew to keep things realistic. There was no sense straight up lying to the older man. He crossed his arms over his chest. "Taozi is never going to be the same boy you once knew. This is... Almost destroying. But do I think he's gonna come out the other side fighting? Absolutely. He's stubborn and bull-headed, and he definitely doesn't back down easily. He's going to be different, but he's going to be fine. He's got all the help he could ever want." Yifan's steady gaze met Yixing's, eyes red rimmed and shiney with yet to be shed tears. He swiped his hand under them.

"Alright," Yifan replied at last. "Yeah, alright." He nodded a little, looking lost in thought again. "He's gonna be alright. He HAS to be." Yifan poured himself a mug of coffee and retrieved his leftovers from the fridge, carrying them both up the stairs. Yixing watched him retreat, feeling a little pang in his chest. He couldn't even imagine facing something like this. From either side.

...

Ouch. I hurt my own heart here. Also, Byeonkwan's rap in Undercover is now going to be stuck in my head for the rest of eternity.