bleeding love • woosan

YOU'RE STILL THE SAME.

Same Girl - Randy Newman.

Leaning against the weathered brick wall in front of an alleyway, Wooyoung lit a cigarette and took a long drag, the sharp tang of smoke mingling with the crisp air. It was a ritual by now - smoking in front of his tattoo studio while observing the busy street before him. The cars driving past, delivery motorbikes rushing along, the people in copy-pasted attires entering and exiting the buildings they worked at.

The same sight Wooyoung had been witnessing for over a year now. He couldn't help but feel detached from the world around him. It was as if he were merely a spectator, watching the ebb and flow of life without truly participating. Time was moving so slowly for Wooyoung ever since his parents passed away. It felt as if there was no end.

Wooyoung kept his gaze fixed ahead, observing the men exiting the law firm just across the street. The smoke filled his lungs, the familiar burning sensation providing comfort as he continued to smoke. Suddenly, his gaze was drawn to a group of men walking out of the building, eyebrows slightly furrowing. As his eyes absentmindedly scanned the group of men, he realized a pair of eyes were staring right back at him from across the street. His chest tightened even before Wooyoung realized to whom those eyes belonged.

San.

Those dark eyes staring back at him widened, and San seemed to freeze in his tracks. As cliche as it may sound, time seemed to stop for the both of them. They stood there, locked in each other's gaze, the world around them fading into the background. The distant sounds of traffic and the murmurs of passersby became nothing but a distant hum. The moment was interrupted when San reluctantly peeled his gaze away, exchanging a few words with the men he was with. Wooyoung watched the other's movements, his brain trying to process what the fuck was going on. It seemed to finally process the situation when he noticed San walking away from the group and towards the crosswalk.

"Fuck," Wooyoung muttered under his breath, his heart pounding in his chest. His hands grew clammy all of a sudden, and that was no good. Why was San approaching him? After what happened between them, San had no right to even think about talking to Wooyoung. "What the fuck?"

In a state of panic, Wooyoung nervously looked around, hoping to somehow disappear into the crowd. His feet felt like they were glued to the ground, and he cursed every decision that led him to this point in his life. Fuck you, universe. Like, actually. Wooyoung decided to lean his head against the cold, brick wall behind him, closing his eyes.

"Wooyoung?"

That goddamned voice. Goosebumps rose all over his skin when he heard his name coming from a person he never thought would utter his name again, every nerve in his body jolting at the sound. Swallowing thickly, Wooyoung hesitantly opened his eyes. His gaze landed on San who was staring at him with eyes full of emotions Wooyoung couldn't recognize at that moment.

Impulsively, Wooyoung decided it was for the best to pretend like he didn't recognize the person in front of him. "Can I help you?" His tone managed to stay neutral, trying to be as convincing as possible. It was hard to do so considering Wooyoung felt like his heart would jump out of his chest.

The shock on San's face was evident. Wooyoung wondered what exactly shocked him. Was it the change in Wooyoung's appearance - the tattoos and piercings- or the fact that he was acting like he didn't know who San was?

"Um," San stammered for a moment, clearly not expecting such an answer. "Don't you remember me? We went to high school together," he tried to remind him, even though San felt like Wooyoung was pretending.

Wooyoung briefly looked away, taking a drag from his cigarette. "Is that so?" He exhaled, smoke obscuring his face for a moment. Have you ever felt like you just wanted to vanish into thin air? That's exactly how he felt - like he could dissolve into the mist and be gone forever.

San's expression faltered, a mixture of confusion and hurt flashing across his features. He took a hesitant step forward, his voice barely above a whisper. "Wooyoung, it's me, San."

Wooyoung's heart clenched at the sound of his name on San's lips, but he pushed the surge of emotions aside. "Sorry, doesn't ring a bell," he replied, his tone sharp and dismissive. Deep down, he knew he was lying to himself as much as he was lying to San. San's eyes flickered with hurt, and Wooyoung could see the cracks forming in the walls he had built around himself.

"It's been a long time," San murmured, his voice barely audible over the din of the street. Wooyoung's grip on his cigarette tightened, the burning ember threatening to scorch his fingertips. "I thought maybe...?"

"I don't have time for this," he interrupted San, turning away and starting to walk away. But San's hand shot out and grabbed his arm, halting him in his tracks. Wooyoung's entire body froze as he felt San's touch burning his skin more than the smoke in his throat. Tears suddenly brimmed in his eyes, as all the memories of the touches they shared years ago rushed back to him.

"Don't touch me," he growled, not daring to face San. "You have no right," he gritted through his teeth, dropping the act now. He tried to pull his arm away from San's grip, but the other man held on tight. The scars on his arm were becoming sore, and the hold felt suffocating. Wooyoung just wanted to run away.

"I know, but please," San pleaded.

Wooyoung turned around, streetlights shining on his glistening eyes. "What do you want from me?"

Immediately noticing the tears, San fell silent. A frown was etched on his face and Wooyoung finally looked at him, really looked at him for the first time in ten years. San was still the same, yet different. He had grown more handsome, his features sharper, his eyes deeper. But, there was something else there, something that Wooyoung couldn't quite put his finger on. San wasn't saying anything, as if seeing the tears in Wooyoung's eyes caused him to lose the ability to speak.

"So? Are you not going to speak now?"

"I... Listen -" San started to talk, but a random, feminine voice interrupted him.

A young woman was rushing towards San, calling him 'director' and Wooyoung wanted to laugh. Even the universe was trying to help him get away from the other man since he was a few seconds away from breaking down in the middle of the street. As San's focus shifted to the woman, the grip on Wooyoung's arm loosened up, which finally gave him the chance to pry his arm away from him. The woman just kept talking, and talking so Wooyoung decided to walk away from San and disappear into the alleyway. His studio was located at the end of the alleyway, so he rushed to get there before San could realize Wooyoung was gone.

The moment he got to his studio door, he opened it with trembling hands and stepped in. The room was pretty dark, with just a lamp glowing in the waiting area. Wooyoung shut the door, making sure it was locked. His legs suddenly felt weak, and he sank to the floor, leaning his back against the door. His entire body was trembling, and the hot tears he was holding back finally slid down his cold cheeks. The panic that crept up ever since he laid his eyes on San was engulfing him, and Wooyoung decided to just give in to it. Choked cries escaped him, his hands going up to tug at his already messy hair.

San had absolutely no business coming near Wooyoung, not after the way he'd treated him like a ghost during their sophomore year, alongside the rest of their friend group. When Wooyoung's parents died in a car crash, his world shattered. Losing his family was one thing, but losing his lover and his friends in the same week? It was like the universe was piling on the pain. Apparently, dealing with grief and having to live with an aunt didn't quite fit the 'rich kids' image their group was all about. Wooyoung might've brushed it off if it were just those snobby jerks cutting him off, but San's betrayal cut him deeper than he cared to admit. It was a wound that had never healed.

No one knew, but the two were lovers.

All Wooyoung wanted was for San to stand by him during those tough times, but it seemed like San had other plans.

By the end of sophomore year, drugs became Wooyoung's only solace.

Even tonight, drugs were the only thing that could calm Wooyoung. Holed up in his office, he spent yet another night in his studio, passed out on the couch with pills by his side.