"You don't need distractions."
"We didn't send you there to make friends."
"Focus on your studies not useless socializing."
"Have you been keeping up with your diet plan?"
"Do not eat after 8 PM. You know what happens when you lose discipline."
"If you want to be worthy of your name, act like it."
Hongjoong's stomach twists.
Worthy of his name?
What kind of sick, twisted expectation is this?
His eyes dart lower-to Seonghwa's replies.
"Understood."
"I won't let you down."
"I haven't been eating late, don't worry."
"I'Il do better."
No anger. No frustration. Just quiet, obedient compliance.
Like he doesn't even consider fighting back.
Like he's already accepted that his life isn't his own.
Hongjoong swallows down the burning in his throat.
Because Seonghwa-the same Seonghwa who
never asks for help, who pretends he's fine, who brushes everything off with tight smiles and polite nods-is living under a weight that should have crushed him years ago.
And no one noticed.
Hongjoong didn't notice.
Until now.
His hands are shaking. His breath feels too shallow. He wants to break something. He wants to throw the phone.
Instead, he locks it and sets it down, staring at the screen like it's something poisonous.
He was expecting a lot of things but not this.
This is so much worse.
This is a boy who has spent his whole life convincing himself he's never enough.
This is why he hesitates. Why he never asks for help. Why he never lets himself break.
Hongjoong felt sick.
Because fuck, how long has Seonghwa been dealing with this alone?
His jaw clenches. His fingers tremble against the screen. He wants to smash the phone, wants to break something, wants to do anything but sit here and accept that Seonghwa has been hearing this probably his whole life.
But he can't do anything.
Not yet.
Not without pushing Seonghwa away.
So, when Seonghwa comes back, drying his hands on his pants, Hongjoong does nothing but watch him.
Watches the way he straightens his posture.
Watches the way he plasters on that unreadable expression.
Watches the way he takes his phone without hesitation, without knowing that Hongjoong just saw every inch of the hell he's living in.
And in that moment-Hongjoong swears something inside him cracks.
Because Seonghwa doesn't even realize how fucked up this is.
Because Seonghwa doesn't even realize he
deserves more.
So Hongjoong just clenches his jaw, lets the music swallow him whole, and makes a decision.
Seonghwa might not see it yet.
But Hongjoong does.
And he's not letting this go.
YOU ARE READING
(no) Strings Attached
Fanfiction"Hey San... wanna fuck?" It was supposed to be enough. It was never enough.
No Need To Pretend
Start from the beginning
