Renjun had done nothing but cry over the loss of anything and everything his mind could come up with, and pace his room with anxiety flooding his veins wondering what the hell his mother was going to do with his sorry gay ass, the entire weekend. That was, up till Sunday. 

Then, he was just bored. There was only so much you could cry over when your life at home was already shitty. His mother (or his sister, it didn't matter) had pushed pieces of bread under the door at random intervals. He was getting water from the small bathroom attached to his bathroom. Not ideal, yes, but at least he wouldn't die of starvation or dehydration anytime soon. His mother couldn't just keep him holed up in here forever. Or could she? 

In the meantime, he had to just find something to pass the time. Games or anything of the sort were out of the question as he was devoid of any devices. So, drawing would have to be his little getaway for now. 

So he drew away, whatever he was thinking of. He started off with a portrait, an outline. His eyebrows crumpled together as he tuned the stature of the person. It started to look slightly familiar... and then watched in actual shock as his fingers sketched out Lee Jeno. Complete with a jersey and converse and the top button on his shirt unbuttoned and the little mole on his cheekbone and with an eye smile upon his flawless face. Too accurate without reference; Did I really spend that much time looking at him?

He tried to be exasperated at himself, but he just smiled at the drawing. One could only smile back contentedly whenever Jeno smiled at them, be it through paper or not. 

Shaking his head, he put the paper into his drawer and took out another sheet. Renjun sharpened his pencil and brushed the parings off the table. He maybe should have seen what was coming when he began drawing someone else, but was actually pleasantly surprised when he found Jaemin cocking his head at him out of the paper, long fringe falling into his eyes, and making Renjun want to brush it out of  his face so he could see them. 

Renjun looked up at the clock at the wall, and realised a mere hour and a half had passed since he had sat down at his desk. 

Oh, sweet freedom, where have you gone? Oh yeah, Daiyu's hidden you somewhere in her bosom. 

▼

Now Renjun was laying listlessly in bed, not much time later, muttering the lyrics to LA Devotee in broken English. He lifted his head to check the clock, only to discover it was only 8 o'clock. The last time he had checked, it had been 7:40. His head thumped back onto the bed, and a groan escaped his mouth. There was a shuffling outside and a piece of bread was slotted under the door. That was the most interesting thing to happen this hour.

He got up, then promptly fell over because his leg had fallen asleep. He crawled across the floor, took the bread and scoffed it down. "Not a bit of butter you could pass me?" he said quietly enough, though someone must have heard it, because he heard a "Shut up, brat!" echo outside in reply. By now, Daiyu's and his mother's voices sounded all but the same. He didn't know how he hadn't noticed before that they sounded practically the same: High, obnoxious, annoying, and always pissed at him. 

He decided to just go to sleep even though it was hours earlier than he would usually resign himself to bed. Getting up with some difficulty, he walked over to his bathroom and brushed his teeth and the like. He looked at himself in the mirror, disheveled and eyes dull with meaningless absence. Absence of what? What am I missing? 

Oh, it's so obvious, Renjun, his mind scolded him.  Love, affection, the feeling of being adored and needed and all the things that make you feel fluffy and soft inside. Missing... 

Well, who did you draw less than two hours ago?

Done brushing, Renjun dropped his brush into his little container after he rinsed it, and left the bathroom, pacing around his room restlessly. He collapsed into his chair, and took the papers out of his drawer. Looking at the profiles longingly, he realised that yes, he did need the affection they or anyone could provide. He wanted to be loved too, in the way his family had loved him before it fell apart, or in a different way. And maybe, maybe, he really wanted to try out the latter. A lot. Maybe. 

But that was only if he ever got out of here, he only had that chance if his mother ever let him go back to that school. His heart was aching for release from this prison built from his own ghostly love life. His heart was aching for all the people he loved; Chenle, his friends, Jaemin and Jeno. 

Great, how am I gonna sleep now?

Again, his hands worked for him, and he found a watercolour palette in them. Okay then, sure. Better than sitting here stressing. 

▼

Renjun was actually pretty proud of how the pictures turned out. He wasn't all that used to the way watercolours worked, and it took longer to get used to them, but once he had a grip on them, he had brought his paper crushes to life. He sat, colouring them for hours, and time slipped between his fingers, like water falling from your hands when you never wanted it there in the first place.

He looked up and saw it was slightly before 12:50 am. He smiled at the productive passage of time and packed away his supplies before yawning and settling down for bed. 

If only his dream reflected his mood before he went to bed. 

:

A suffocating, dark space. Renjun couldn't see a foot in front of himself, it was like there was a storm cloud blocking his vision. The air was pressing in on his smaller-than-usual body from all sides. It barely hurt him physically, though. It was like he was unfeeling, lifeless. Dead. It did hurt in a different way, though. It was even as if he was watching someone beloved to him suffer a painful death, from their perspective. He struggled fitfully to get them, or himself, out of there. 

Then he zoomed up unexpectedly, his stomach sinking in an unpleasant feeling. That was explained when he looked down and saw he had left his stomach behind, along with his body, which was rapidly shrinking beneath the pressure of the dark cloud surrounding it. He then realised he was also flying up at an alarming pace. He had no arms to hug himself with. 

He looked down and caught sight of four people walking rapidly away from the struggling body, going north, south, east and west, towards a blinding light lining the edges of this dark place. His breath caught in his throat. They were abandoning him. 

Before he could shout out for them to go back, to turn around, to go help him, he burst through a discernible mist, probably knocking his head on something, because-

:

He awoke, breathing heavily, and with tears stinging his eyes. 

Why? Why am I on the verge of tears? He wiped at his eyes harshly, disappointed in himself for being so fragile. It wasn't even a scary or detailed dream. Not all that disturbing, really. So why was he so... disturbed? 

He glanced at the clock, somehow discerning the exact time through the darkness. 3:40. 

He got out of bed a bit noisily, suddenly setting himself up to get into trouble. I can't live live like this forever...  crying and stressing and being bored and being all sad by drawing my crushes all day... he had to do something, anything to set off something to get himself out of here. Wait... why was he being so impulsive? 

He sat down on his bed again and ran his hands over his face, ruffling his hair as he brought them to back of his head and resting them there. Deep down, he really wanted to get the fuck out of here, and a part of him knew that. That part of him slowly took over his mind as he sat there for one, two, three minutes. He realised he needed something to convince him that it was worth the emotional and maybe eventual physical risk he would be putting himself at the mercy of if he decided to even come up with a plan. Before he could even consider anything at all, faces all too familiar passed over his mind. Guess who? He hadn't experienced enough things in life. His mother would most likely just keep him holed up here or send him off to a juvenile institute until he was able to freely make decisions at eighteen. Most of all, he had one thought left at the end of a winding procession of them. He stood up resiliently, because why give up the chance of a perfect relationship, tiny as it is, when I might never fall in lo- like people like this again?

He glanced at the clock again, and reading 3:44, he decided that his mother and sister would be asleep by now. Struck by an idea, he shook his head and strolled over to his desk. I'm fucking done now, he thought, opening his drawer and spotting a bobby pin among the clutter. Chenle taught me how to pick locks last year, I don't think I've forgotten. 

▼

Turns out he hadn't. 

He tiptoed across the hall to his mother's room and opened the door so, so cautiously. He heard deep, even breaths and got to his hands and knees, crawling across the room to the little table where his mother placed and plugged her phone to charge every night, praying to any and all deities that his would be there too.

To his relief, his baby blue and green case sat overturned on the table. Taking it in his mildly shaking hands, he turned it on. Then a vibration caused the phone to tickle his hands, giving him a small panic attack in his place there on the floor. He quickly put it on silent, cursing his luck and whatever notification caused- 

–

|   New software update available   |

–

Fuck you. 

He signed in and swiftly went to messages, already knowing who he was going to message and what he was going to message them. He was getting out of this room as quickly as possible, and so he was not going to waste his time typing out some long-ass message explaining his dismal situation. 

Tapping a not-so-flattering picture of a dolphin that served as Chenle's profile picture, quickly skimming over the countless messages sent to him, all along the lines of: "where the actual fuck are you??", "srsly what are you doing are you dead" and "we r so fukn worried bitchass answeR me".

He quickly typed out two words: fallen rainbow

Renjun's job done, he went to put his phone down, but was suddenly struck with curiosity at who had tried to reach him. After all, he didn't really text or call people at all, but he always texted back. Maybe they were wondering why he left school early, or why he wasn't texting back. 

He first went to calls. The last, what, ninety that he had received had been from both Chenle and Jisung. However, when he scrolled down past those, he came across an unknown number that had tried calling him repeatedly on Saturday evening. Scrunching up his eyebrows, he wondered who on earth it could be. Heart jumping, he was suddenly hit with an image of Jaemin or Jeno worriedly calling him. But they don't have my number...

He went to messages to see if the person had texted him, and they had. He was mainly trying to see if they had introduced themselves or at least stated their reason for trying to reach him all of a sudden. And, by god, they had. Bluntly, too. 

–

UN: Is this Huang Renjun? It's your father

         I've finally gotten myself together, I can come get you

         Please text back as soon as possible, I will try my best to reach you anyway however

         Sorry for bothering you if you're not Renjun, have a good day

fuck off, he doesn't want you faggot  (seen, 2:23 PM)

         Okay. 

–

His mother had answered for him. He had seen it too. And sent a reply as cold as the one he had been sent. 

Covering his mouth with his left hand, he went back to his messages with Chenle. Forgetting where he was, he went to type a huge message. Then he heard his mother stir in her sleep with a groan. He jumped, and turned in horror. What if she's waking up, shit, did I make a noise? Shit, shit- oh, she's still sleeping. 

His mother could still be on the verge of waking up however, his anxiety told him, so he tapped out a hasty, shaky message to his best friend:

–

mu dad texted me. hw wants me back  (delivered, 3:49 AM)

– 

His mother shifted again, and Renjun exited out of the app, turned off his phone in a frenzy and got the fuck out of there. 

▼

Back in his own room, he sat curled up on his bed in the dark, salty tears slipping out of his eyes randomly. 

Why? Why now? Why when he was under house arrest? Why when his mother had his phone? Why at a time when she had the liberty to reply to his text messages? Why did she know his password? Why did his father sound so careless replying? Why was Renjun so fucking stupid? Why was Daiyu such a bitch? Why, why did he drop those fucking notes? 

🀱🀳🁉🁇🀸🀱

right, I just!! wrote!!! this!! so sorry if its c r a p

Im so sorry its so damn long I prob just wasted half your day wh o op s