Hollow.

That was how San felt for the next few days. His chest felt far too compressed for its own good, making breathing and even talking an unbearable task that he unfortunately had to participate in. It felt as if there'd been a hole torn in him, one that easily couldn't be stitched up with mere assurances or positive happenings. It left him vulnerable and open, his already weakened heart exposed to judging eyes and predatory thoughts that were eager to feast on its pathetic and pitiful state.

Choi San himself was pitiful. Even as a young boy he'd had a quiet character, too willing to let others have their way with him or take advantage of him all because he'd been too scared to speak up in fear of angering them. Throughout the years of his hopeless existence on Earth, he'd been shunned and disgraced, tampered with before eventually being tossed aside like unwanted trash when the others deemed him done and over with.

He was chosen and plucked by the Universe's unlucky hands, made to set out on a twisted journey full of ups and downs, cruel setbacks and bleak destinations. He had no real reason to be alive other than to inflict pain upon others and himself. And for some time, he'd been fine with that.

That is, until Jung Wooyoung came along. The boy had unknowingly pulled San up to his feet, and introduced him to experiences above and beyond what he could've ever imagined, with fresher perspectives and blooming horizons that left San hoping and wishing that everything would have lasted for at least a little while longer.

But, all good things came to an end eventually.

And just as quick, San was now back to being a lone soul.

San inhaled a choked breath as he stared himself down in front of the mirror that Friday morning, three days since his life had become void of Wooyoung's presence.

His eyes showcased a deep hateful darkness that nearly surprised him. His skin was pale, and an off-shade of pink splotched over his cheeks. He appeared even more gaunt than usual, and the mere sight of himself made him want to burst.

It was early in the morning, a couple hours before school would open, and the atmospheric temperature was both ice cold and irritating. It only made San more furious at himself -- at everything.

Another choked, miserable breath was inhaled, and his throat felt parched and empty. You look horrible and you're a fucking mess. That's why Wooyoung left you. You don't deserve him.

San's jaw clenched, and his fists clamped together, shaking with seething rage. And then he was gasping, distressed sobs echoing within the bathroom's walls while shards made up of the mirror were now gathered in the sink.

The sharp sound and the image of blood coating his knuckles darkened San's expression with both unmatched pain and disbelief.

"Fuck!" San yelled, sinking to his knees. He curled into a ball and hot tears stung his eyes, keeping him from seeing properly. His heart ached so bad, and even the physical pain he'd inflicted on himself couldn't drench out the affliction he felt.

When Seonghwa hurriedly rushed into the bathroom due to the noise, San couldn't hold it in anymore. The tears began to flow freely, soaking through his cousin's shirt when the older male held him close in order to support him.

"You're okay, everything's okay," Seonghwa whispered into his hair, making sure to repeat those two words over and over again so that San would remember them as he tended to forget them so easily. And Seonghwa would keep saying them for as long as he needed to until his cousin would believe him.

Even if that meant forever.

* * *

"Hey, you okay? You look a bit...sick." Mingi's words were soft and lathered with identifiable worry, but they went through one of San's ears and out the other.

His thoughts were a jumbled, incomprehensible mess. He had no idea what he was even doing at school today, and seeing Wooyoung blatantly avoiding him once again for the first half of the day drowned him deeper and deeper into his sea of despair.

San and Mingi had decided to stay in the cafeteria at lunch today for a change, but then several minutes had passed without any words spoken from the former. It was as if he'd became a zombie, a depressed ragdoll that had lost all its worth and ability to stand up for itself.

He flinched when Mingi's palm gently pressed on his shoulder. Almost immediately, the redhaired teen dropped his hand.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, yet his eyes looked too inquisitive and too curious for their own good.

San shook his head and stared blankly ahead -- which quickly turned out to be a huge mistake.

Because there Wooyoung was in the middle of the cafeteria, his long black hair falling over his pretty features which had been pulled into this expression of mild amusement. His other friends were laughing and play fighting as usual at their table, and while Wooyoung smiled and laughed along, his eyes still held an unmistakable emotion in them. It was obvious that he wasn't really there, and that he longed to be somewhere else -- with someone else.

"...Is it about Wooyoung?" Mingi asked, his voice drawing San out of his innermost thoughts. When they faced each other though, the taller looked apologetic. "Or... maybe we can just talk about something else?"

San sighed, rubbing his fingers together. They were already sore from the multiple times he'd tampered with them throughout the week, but he couldn't help it. He couldn't get rid of his anxiety.

"W-We can talk about it," he eventually muttered, chewing on his lip. His nervousness had grown even more rabid, infesting and ravaging his thoughts. His hands began to shake underneath the table, but he hid them in his pockets.

"Is everything okay between you and Wooyoung?" Mingi questioned, sparing a glance over at Wooyoung's table. The dark haired boy was as oblivious as ever, currently listening in to whatever the guy next to him was saying. San's heart bled with sheer longing, as he wanted so deeply for things to be normal between him and Wooyoung again. "I've noticed you two haven't been talking since like, the start of the week."

San looked away after realizing he'd been staring at Wooyoung for far too long. Idiot, what would he think if he'd caught you staring? Why are you so hopeless?

"San? Should I take you to see the nurse? You're kind of worrying me," Mingi said, and instantly San felt guilty. The taller boy had his own shit to deal with, and here San was, inconveniencing him like he did to everyone.

San quickly shook his head. "I'm fine. No need to worry."

"You sure?"

"I-I'm sure." San looked away, detesting the way he kept stuttering.

A minute passed between the friends filled with nothing but chatter from the surrounding students, but soon enough Mingi decided to speak up.

"So...did you both have a fight or?"

San's heart thumped against his ribcage. "No... Not really. But -- but it was my fault."

Mingi's eyebrows rose in confusion. "Your fault?"

"W-We had some sort of stupid disagreement and n-now..." San hesitated, blowing out a tuft of air from his lips. He was frustrated at how everything was turning at this point.

"So you guys had a disagreement, and because of that Wooyoung doesn't wanna talk to you." Mingi paused. "Is that what I'm getting here?"

"It's -- it's not Wooyoung's fault," San rushed to defend the other male. "It was mine. It's my fault. Everything's my fault."

"Then you both should talk things out, and apologize if you have to," Mingi replied.

"I -- I can't. He doesn't want to talk to me," San explained, clenching his hands into firm fists. "I-In fact, it's better like this. He's better like this."

Mingi looked like he couldn't believe what San was actually saying. "What the hell are you talking about? It's not 'better' in the slightest. Since Tuesday I've been spotting you both walking on eggshells around each other and if it's not that, then it's avoiding each other like you're both the plague even when it's as clear as day that you're both fond of each other. Whatever happened between you two needs to be discussed between you both, because I really hate seeing this."

"I can't do anything," San simply stated, his voice coming out cold and seemingly disinterested -- even when he was far from that. "There isn't anything that can be done. Wooyoung doesn't want to talk to me again, and it's fine."

No it's not. It's not and you fucking know it. Stop lying to yourself. San, at that moment, wanted nothing more than to disappear forever.

"San," Mingi pressed, genuine concern showcased on his expression, "what's going on?"

"Nothing."

San couldn't look the redhaired male in the eyes. He didn't want to see any sort of disappointment coming from his side. San knew he wouldn't be able to take it.

"...Should I talk to Wooyoung for you? Obviously, I have no idea of what went wrong between you guys, but I really hate seeing you two like this. Seriously, it's making me a bit sad."

San froze up. "No, please. Y-You don't need to do that."

He looked up then, and that's when he saw Mingi's face, but the taller wasn't looking in his direction. No, he was looking at Wooyoung who was now on his feet, a soda can casually swinging in his hand. He appeared as nonchalant as ever, but his eyes were narrowed, glaring at nothing.

Mingi stood up.

San didn't hesitate to grab his arm, but the taller had been too quick with his footsteps.

Shit! San internally cursed. He started to freak out. His hands shook whilst he got up, racing past the several tables and out the cafeteria to hurriedly find Mingi and stop him from talking to Wooyoung about the issue.

By the time he made his way into the nearly empty hall, Mingi was already with Wooyoung by the lockers. He seemed to be the more chatty of the two, his mouth emphasizing words which San couldn't hear at all, yet didn't fail to heighten the severity of his nervousness.

Wooyoung, on the other hand, just continued to stare at Mingi, his expression stoic and hard to read. San didn't even know if he was mad or not, and that was the scary thing.

San hated this entire situation. The more words Mingi and Wooyoung exchanged, the more visibly upset the taller became. His voice rose, teethering on agitation and unmasked bewilderment.

Mingi was angry.

San found himself taking a step back. He was back to feeling breathless -- exhausted. His chest hurt, each inhale and exhale akin to an army of claws pricking him under his skin and squeezing his heart with unimaginable strength. Suddenly he was cornered again, alone and scared as his previous bullies sneered and bared their teeth at him like venomous snakes, joking about what evils they would commit on him.

And then something warm held San's wrist, and he freaked the fuck out. He immediately yanked his wrist off, the phantom touch feeling like an acid that charred his skin.

"Don't fucking touch me." San's words were like the coldest ice, and his tone dripped with long repressed poison, escaping his lips before he could even register who he was even talking to.

Wooyoung stared at him, before taking a step back. And when his and San's gazes met, his eyes reflected clear dejection and regret. And San hated that. He wanted to apologize, to speak up and say that he hadn't meant any of it, but his lips stayed shut, and his eyes continued to glare at Wooyoung like he was everything evil in the world.

"I'm sorry," Wooyoung looked truly sorry, his eyes this worrying pool of gloom that San chose to ignore.

But San didn't answer him. Shame, guilt, and humiliation had swallowed him whole, and he felt just as cornered and as overwhelmed as he'd felt all those years ago.

And as a result, he quickly turned around and walked away.

* * *

a/n: oh no. thoughts?