I'm really hoping updates stay consistent. Even if it's not for one story. Even if it's spread across all my works. I just want to recapture what 2018/2019 me had.
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"Welcome everyone," Jongin greeted the crowd. Like there was someone new. Like they'd never met him before. Though the truth was most of the people seated in the ragged circle had been here. Seen these people time and time again. Junmyeon saw some familiar faces at least, although names were beginning to blend together. The only ones he retained were Jongin and Jongdae. "I'm Jongin, your host for the day. Why they've entrusted me to do this is beyobd me." That aroused s few half hearted chuckles, but a lot of people avoided eye contact and didn't budge. "I've been in your place before," Jongin forged on, swinging his chair arounf amd plopping down, resting his arms on the back, propping his chin on them. "I've been down this hole before."
"How'd you get out?" A newcomer, Junmyeon assumed. Not used to the same old spiel they got every meeting. Jongin scanned the crowd for the voice, but the person fell silent as soon as they'd spoken.
"How did I get out?" Jongin repeated, eyebrows retreating into his hairline as a look of astonishment overtook his features. "Let me tell you. It was hell. Everyone always glorified Alcoholics Anonymous. And while I agree it helps, obviously, or I wouldn't be seated here talking to you. It's not simply just showing up to a meeting or two and suddenly you're cured. I wish it worked like that." Jongin chuckled, though it wasn't a humorous one. "I've actually relapsed. Several times. Meetings help. Finding people that get it help. But it's not a one size fits all solution. You WILL be tempted by your vises again. It's a given. You're going to stumble and fall along the way. The trick is surrounding yourself with people who will catch you before you splat." The crowd soaked it in. Junmyeon himself soaked ot in. Jongin had never talked about his personal struggles like thos before. No lt in thos detail anyway. "I've had to fight for a LONG time to be where I am today, with the people I'm with. It's a struggle for sure. But it's a struggle, I'm finding, that is well worth it."
Well worth it? Junmyeon wasn't so sure about that. This was the clearest he could focus in years. And he honestly hated it with every fiber of his being. Some days he craved the burn down his throat. The smell that had once seared his nostrils but now had almost become a sort of twisted security blanket. The fuzzy haze that coated his mind and let him forget. Forget his sad pathetic excuse of a life. Let him forget her. She would always be his biggest regret. One he wished he never had to shoulder in the first place. He should have just listened to his friends. They saw right through her and saw her as the monster she was capable of being. But Junmyeon only saw her through rose colored glasses. To him, she deserved the world. But clearly to her, he didn't even deserve the time of day.
"Junmyeon?" Junmyeon blinked, once again yanked from the abyss before he could tumble. Jongdae, leaning forward ever so slightly in his seat with his fingers laced together in front of him. Today he sported a cozy brown sweater vest and gold round rimmed glasses, giving him a sort of old timey professor look. Someone Junmyeon should be able to trust. "Everyone else has gone," Jongdae pointed out. Junmyeon looked around, noting the empty chairs. "You doing okay?"
"No," Junmyeon amswered honestly. "I'm not. I haven't been." Jongdae simply nodded. He didn't push it further. Didn't ask more questions. The truth was Junmyeon wasn't just thinking about his past, though that tended to invade his conscious no matter what he did. He was thinking about his future. What would happen when even Jung Ahn's got sick of him. What he would do. He didn't have a job. He didn't have an aspirations. He didn't have a house or friends to turn to. What the hell would he do?
He could grovel to Baekhyun again he supposed. But he was getting quite tired of running to the Parks any time his life fell to pieces. He could swallow ehat little pride he still possessed and seek out his parents. Though he doubted they would ever want to see him again. They couldn't even be bothered to show up to his wedding. Some days Junmyeon wondered if they'd even show up to his funeral. Besides, his mom had Sehun. The golden child. The one everyone wanted around. Maybe Baekhyun wished he would have been Sehun's friend instead. Maybe they all wished that.
"I'm sorry, I have to go," Junmyeon suddenly blurted, rising so fast his chair wobbled and tumbled in slow motion. Or to him it felt like slow motion. He met Jongin's eyes very briefly. Jongin opened his mouth like was going to say something, but Junmyeon bolted before one word escaped his tongue. Beelined it for his room, even though he HATED being in there, because he had nowhere else safe to go. He could go somewhere else in Jung Ahn's. The yard perhaps. But he felt like he might be sick even before he reached that point. He collapsed once his door closed. His starchy white uniform felt stiff and suffocating. He wanted to rip it from his body.
What will I do? He thought to himself bleakly, feeling his eyes sting, though no tears fell this time. Eventually I'll be released from here. I have nowhere to go. No one to turn to. I'm all alone. What am I supposed to do once they've deemed I'm better? What am I supposed to do with my life?
He never even pictured getting THIS far, if he was being honest. Not after the divorce. Not after watching his life break to pieces right before his eyes. He never imagined having to find, and place back together, those pieces.
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"I'm worried." Chanyeol hummed thoughtfully, peeking up from his work spread across their kitchen table. Baekhyun padded into the kitchen, sporting an oversized sweater with the sleeves passed his fingers. Chanyeol's eyes buldged. Didn't matter how much time had passed, seeing Baekhyun drove him utterly wild. Always had. He reached out, and Baekhyun toddled over, slipping into his embrace, curling up on his lap and tucking his head under the giant's chin. Chanyeol practically melted at that, running his fingers along the shorter man's spine. "I'm worried," Baekhyun repeated, albiet softer.
"About?" Chanyeol asked gently. He knew better than to push this spunky man, even if he HAD mellowed out as they'd gotten older. "You know you cam tell me anything Baekie," he added after a longer than normal pause. Baekhyun made an affirmative noise, mulling over exactly what it was he wanted to say. He felt at a loss sometimes. "Is it aboug Junmyeon?" Baekhyun flinched.
"Yes," he admitted. "I'm worried about what's going to happen to him once he's out of there. Of what he'll do. It's not like he's got somewhere to go. What if he just reverts back to what he'd done before he even got there? Then all this effort would have felt wasted." Not that he felt this was an absolute lost cause. In fact Baekhyun firmly believed that Junmyeon could and would get better. He just feared what would happen once his steady support left. What he would become. "He could stay here," Baekhyun offered up halfheartedly. He very well could. Then they could help him wrestle with the last of his demons. Chanyeol combed Baekhyun's hair back with his fingers, thinking that over.
"He could," Chanyeol agreed at last. Baekhyun stirred in his grasp, and he glanced down to see soft brown eyes staring back at him. So earnest. Baekhyun always looked like he held the universe in his eyes when Chanyeol looked at him, the giant was firmly convinced, and it didn't matter how much time had passed. How long they'd been together. He treasured it now just as much as he had then.
...
"Damn." Yixing swore softly, leaning back in his seat, groaning when his back ached. His pay from the restaurant had finally filtered through, and for that part he was grateful, however the majority of it immediately swept away to bills. Bills from the house and paying off some of the expenses from Jung Ahn's. It was more than he had anticipated. Though he would in fact keep that information to himself. He could only picture the look on Yifan's face when he realized. He shoved away from the table, pausing only to flip the papers over so Yifan couldn't immediately see them, and moved to his borrowed room. He wasn't usually one to hide away. But tonight he was incredibly tired and just wanted to lay in his bed. So he did, wrapping rbe covers around his frame like a cocoon, tucking his chin against his chest.
"Yixing?" He'd just started to nod off when his name was called. He cracked his eyes open ever so slightly, hoping maybe he'd imagined that. His door creaked open and Yifan stuck his head in. Yixing lay unmoving, and it felt like for a few minutes time halted in its tracks as Yifan studied him. Yixing just wanted some sleep. He felt tapped. Finally Yifan sighed, creeping into the room slowly, slowly, afraid he would rouse his sleeping cousin with even the slightest noise. "Thank you." Yixing forced himself to not react. To remain motionless. "I know I don't say it often enough. But thank you. For being here. For helping with Tao. For helping me. For being amazing." Yifan paused, and Yixing felt the bed dip as his cousin's weight fell upon it.
"I hope he gets to come home soon." Yifan paused. "I really don't know what I'd do without Taozi around. You remember me best from home. Of the kid who would pick a fight with a rock simply because he could. Who would get sent to the headmaster's office so many times my parents had the number on speed dial just so they could make picking me up a faster process." Another pause. "I wonder what happened to that kid some days. What exactly happened. Because it still feels like he's buried deep down in there waiting to come out. It's getting harder to control that part of myself." Yifan huffed out a shakey breath, a cross between a sigh and a laugh. "I'm trying to be better Xing. I really am. But the thought of losing Tao... The thought of losing the very thing that has brought me unfathomable joy... I'm scared. I don't want to lose him. I don't want to lose anyone. Because if I lose him, I'm going to lose me too."
They sat in silence after that, the pair of them. Yixing close to sleep, though jarring himself awake just enough to stay aware of Yifan's presence. And Yifan, sitting on the edge of the guest room bed, head bowed, hands gripping the sheets like there was a possibility he could fly away if he didn't. He heard Yifan mumbling to himself under his breath from time to time. Little prayers or words of comfort. Anything to keep him grounded. Yifan rose after what felt like hours, though he paused at the door, staring over his shoulder.
"Please." Yixing heard the heartbreak in his cousin's voice. The defeat. "Please just let Zitao come home to me. Please don't let me lose the best part of me." And at last Yifan moved off, and Yixing sucked in a breath. Damn. It was so much worse off than Yixing even imagined. He curled his fingers into his comforter, gripping with all his strength in fear of completely losing himself too. He knew that one day this foundation would crumble. It was bound to. He just hoped they could piece enough of it back together before it became catastrophic.
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Hi all. Break time over. Bye