Chapter 1: You keep me up
Chapter Text
Ricky remembers when Hwandae's touches used to feel feathery, soft, and comforting. Now Hwandae's touches are bald, sharp, and disquieting. Ricky can’t help but wonder why his boyfriend does not love him. Can't help but wonder when his boyfriend stopped loving him.
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When Ricky met Hwandae, he had been a fellow trainee under YueHua Entertainment. Hwandae had been the one to approach first. Ricky had been hesitant to speak to the other trainees who did not speak Mandarin or English.
It was not like Ricky did not want to become friends with the Korean trainees; he just wasn't fluent in the language. It sometimes made things incredibly awkward when he attempted to speak with them. He knew he should push himself more, but in a few weeks, Ricky would branch out more. So, it wasn’t unusual to see Ricky hanging out with some other Chinese trainees.
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They met in March of 2021.
One morning while stretching, Hwandae approached Ricky with a wide smile on his face. Ricky had been startled when Hwandae’s towering figure suddenly appeared in his view. While Ricky himself stood at an impressive 183.9 cm, Hwandae had a good few more inches on him. Hwandae also sported an impressive build. He had wide shoulders and his biceps were huge. Ricky stared at the man’s chest where the shirt was strained showing off his pectoral muscles. Overall, the man was attractive, and Ricky drooling.
Ricky couldn't keep his eyes off of him.
Though it was early in the morning, the man was already drenched in sweat, causing sweat to drip off of his forehead. Ricky was still stretching, not yet ready for the intense workout that was starting soon. He couldn't help but admire the man's drive.
The man bowed his head and opened his mouth the speak. “I’m Hwandae,” his voice was like velvet, “it’s nice to meet you.”
Ricky couldn't help but feel a wave of heat rush through his body at the sound of the man's voice. The way his voice sounded was as smooth as silk and as refreshing as rain. He felt so small compared to this man who stood before him. However, rather than feeling insecure about his small size, he felt protected. It was as if Hwandae was shielding him from the world, just by standing next to him.
Hwandae had this energy about him that pulled people to him. Ricky was surprised that this beautiful man had approached *him* and not the other way around. Ricky knew that he was attractive, but this man looked like a sex god. Ricky couldn’t compete.
Realizing that he was just staring at that attractive male, Ricky stuttered out a response. “I-I’m Shen Quanrui,” *how uncool of him to stutter,* “You can call me Ricky. It’s nice to meet you Hwandae.” Ricky glanced away from the man, slightly intimidated.
Looking back at Hwandae, Ricky lightly blushed, captivated by the man’s looks. Hwandae looked Ricky up and down and then smiled, teeth and all. “Say, Ricky, you’re Chinese right?” Hwandae asked, eyebrow raised.
Ricky eyebrows furrowed at the question, but he answered anyway. “Uhh, yeah. What about it?” Ricky was curious about why the man had asked.
Hwandae chucked. “Your accent,” he said, “it doesn’t sound Korean,” he pointed out not unkindly. “I also heard you speaking to the other trainees.” He said, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly.
“Yeah, my Korean is not the best. You’ll have to excuse me for making any mistakes.” Ricky said slightly embarrassed.
Hwandae stepped closer to Ricky. “Why don’t we be friends?” He questioned enthusiastically. “I can help you become more fluent.”
Ricky's breath caught in his throat. The fact that such a handsome man was offering to teach him a language made his heart race. Hwandae seemed so innocent and caring. It made Ricky's stomach flutter with butterflies. He was attracted to the man physically, but also emotionally and he couldn't deny the fact that he found himself being drawn to him.
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Ricky had found out that Hwandae was 20 and that he was an amazing dancer. He had also been a trainee for about a year. Hwandae was also going to college for criminal justice. He claimed that he wanted to have a backup in case being an idol didn't happen. Hwandae was taking as many classes online as he could to get a lot of the classes done and over with.
Hwandae also worked in customer service at the local grocery store, so he was good at talking to people. Ricky was surprised that he had any free time at all. But, Ricky found it admirable that Hwandae was so dedicated and hard-working.
They made time to have ‘study sessions’ where Hwandae would teach Ricky Korean, but in reality, they usually just hung out at a cafe and casually talked. Hwandae could only speak minimal Mandarin, so there wasn’t much Korean that he could actually teach Ricky. This bummed Ricky out a little, but he had fun having out with Hwandae. But, despite how much they hung out and had a good time, Ricky could not ignore that Hwandae was kinda rude.
Oddly, Hwandae would only speak Mandarin during their ‘study sessions’. Anytime Ricky would speak in his native language Hwandae would insist on only speaking in Korean. If Ricky disobeyed, Hwandae would ignore him. Ricky wanted to be friends with the man though, so he apologized and apologized.
The more Ricky kept hanging out with Hwandae, the more he started to notice certain things about his personality and behavior. While Hwandae was nice and polite most of the time, his attitude would sometimes seem a little bit harsh. He would often ignore Ricky if he spoke in his native language and only speak Korean instead. He also would sometimes give him a cold look whenever he made a mistake in Korean.
Ricky's heart was filled with sadness at the way the man acted. In his mind, he had imagined that the man would be understanding of his language limitations and would be patient with him when he made mistakes. Instead, the man was cold and distant. He had wondered at some point if he should talk to the man about how he was treating him.
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Ricky had built up the courage to confront Hwandae about his behavior. It wasn’t fair that he couldn’t speak his native language while Hwandae could speak his. Ricky had cautiously started the conversation while they were at one of their ‘study sessions’.
“Hyung,” Ricky began nervously, “I want to talk to you about something.” He placed his hands in his lap.
Hwandae hummed in response, looking at the items on the menu. Ricky didn’t know why Hwandae looked at the menu every single time they came to the cafe. They had been to the cafe enough times that Ricky himself had memorized the small amount of menu contents. Despite that, Hwandae ordered the same thing every time.
An extra large bowl of Chicken flavored ramen. No added spices. Not a bad choice, but kinda boring to constantly eat over and over again.
Ricky cleared his throat, “Hyung, not to be weird, but I can’t help but notice that you don’t like it when I speak Mandarin.” Hwandae did not look up from the menu. “I just, it makes me upset that I can’t speak Mandarin. I enjoy speaking and learning Korean, but Mandarin is my native language.”
“Ricky,” Hwandae did not look up from the menu, “I never told you that you could not speak Mandarin.”
Ricky furrowed his eyebrows, confused at Hwandae’s words. “Every time I speak it you ignore me.”
“I do not ignore you, Ricky,” Hwandae did not look up from the menu, “I answer you every single time.”
“No, you don’t.” Ricky frowned. That can’t be right. Hwandae never replied to his Mandarin anymore.
“Ricky,” Ricky shivered at his cold tone, “are you calling me a liar?” Hwandae did not look up from his menu.
Ricky looked down at his hands. “No, Hyung.” He whispered. Ricky felt his heart pound. He tucked his hands between his thighs to stop them from shaking.
The waitress came and asked them for their order. Ricky quietly ordered a medium spicy ramen bowl. Hwandae got an extra large bowl of Chicken flavored ramen. No spices added.
As he watched the server leave, Ricky was taken aback by how stoic Hwandae was. He could not help but feel hurt by the man's lack of emotion. His behavior left Ricky completely stumped. Hwandae was usually so happy and upbeat.
Ricky could not help but feel frustrated with his inability to get through to Hwandae. He wanted to have a conversation with the man, but the tension between them made talking feel impossible. Hwandae's cold personality was making him anxious and worried. The man had denied ignoring him when he spoke in Mandarin, but Ricky knew that was not true. It had to be false.
When the waitress brought their food, Ricky was relieved that he did not have to speak. They both ate their food in silence. Ricky was tense from their conversation, but at one glance toward Hwandae, the man looked calm and composed. Maybe Ricky was overthinking it. Hwandae was nice to him.
The man treated Ricky to lunch, taught him Korean (even if it was minimal), and he was friends with Ricky even though Ricky had a hard time keeping up with their conversations at times. So, Ricky had to be overreacting. Maybe he forgot. There was no way Hyung was treating him weirdly. Right?
Ricky could feel himself slowly relaxing as he ate his food. The more he thought about it, the more he realized how much Hwandae did for him. Even if he had a challenging time with Korean, Hwandae still tried his best to teach Ricky what he could. And he still kept Ricky company even when he was not fluent. Maybe Ricky was just being paranoid and reading too much into the situation.
“Hyung,” Ricky began quietly, “I’m sorry. I was overreacting.”
Hwandae looked at Ricky and he beamed. “You are prone to overreacting, but it’s alright. Hyung forgives you.” Ricky smiled back at Hwandae and let out a sigh of relief.
Ricky felt a weight lift off his shoulders. Hwandae wasn’t mad at him. He treated Ricky so kindly and they always had fun hanging out. Ricky didn’t know if he could handle Hwandae being angry at him, so it was a relief that he wasn’t.
They didn't have to talk about it anymore and it didn't need to be something that held them back from enjoying each other's company. Hwandae had told him he forgave him, and he needed to trust that forgiveness. And from that point forward, Ricky made an effort not to overreact or read into the situation too much. He was glad that he had talked to Hwandae about his feelings and that they had been able to work things out.
“Ricky, why don’t we go on a date?” Ricky sputtered on his noodles, caught off guard at Hwandae's question. He quickly swallowed the food in his mouth.
When Ricky looked at Hwandae, he could see that the man’s expression was slightly dark. “Is it really that alarming to go on a date with me?” Ricky felt apprehension fill his core.
Ricky’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “No, that’s not it.” Ricky watched as Hwandae’s eyes shifted emotions like a switch. “It’s just that,” Ricky looked down, “I only just turned 17 a month ago and you’re turning 21 in August.”
Hwandae smiled “You’ll be turning 18, so I don't see why it would be a problem.” Ricky felt startled by Hwandae's response. He had not expected the man to just dismiss the age gap like that.
Ricky could not believe what he was hearing. Hwandae wanted to go on a date with him, and he did not care that Ricky only just turned 17. It made Ricky uncomfortable. “Hyung, I don’t think-“ Ricky was cut off.
Hwandae reached over the table and grabbed Ricky’s hands. Ricky couldn’t help but notice the size difference. His hands were pretty much engulfed by Hwandae’s. “Ricky, it’ll be fine.” The emotion in his eyes was unclear. His smile looked strained. Hwandae looked…
Ricky’s stomach sank. He wanted to leave. Ricky tried to pull his hands away from Hwandae, but his grip tightened. Ricky didn’t know what to do. What could he do? “Okay, Hyung.” He agreed apprehensively.
Hwandae’s eyes widened in glee and he locked his fingers with Ricky’s. “Oh, Ricky! That’s great. How’s tomorrow?” Ricky was lost for words. Hwandae was a whole different person now. “We can go to the cat cafe down the street.”
Ricky smiled weakly and agreed. What had he gotten himself into? The waitress came back with their check. When Hwandae let go of his hands, Ricky tucked them under his thighs. Hwandae paid this time.
Hwandae suggested taking Ricky home, be he denied the offer. He could get home by himself. Plus, he needed time to think. Hwandae’s smile dimmed slightly, but he surprisingly didn’t push the matter.
Ricky went home and laid in his bed. Hwandae was his friend. Everything would be fine.
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They went on the date. It was pleasant, surprisingly. Hwandae had been happy and energetic the entire time. At first, Ricky had been hesitant, but the more he talked with Hwandae, the more fun he had. Everything was back to normal.
They went on another date, and another, and another, and another. Ricky found himself falling for Hwandae’s charms all over again. There were moments where Hwandae was rude, but Ricky chalked those up as Hwandae having a ‘bad day’. Hwandae was good to him and everyone had bad days. It was normal.
Ricky had unconsciously gotten into the habit of not speaking Mandarin around Hwandae. While the man replied, it was never back in Mandarin. Only ever in Korean. It was also usually to remind Ricky that he should speak Korean because, “You need to learn to speak Korean better if you’re going to be a K-pop idol, Ricky.” It made Ricky feel insecure and as if Hwandae was trying to change him into someone he wasn't. But, he wasn’t wrong. What K-pop idol couldn't speak Korean?
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In July of 2021, Hwandae asked Ricky to be his boyfriend.
When Hwandae asked Ricky to be his boyfriend, Ricky's heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t in joy though. They had only known each other for four (4) months. It also still bothered Ricky that Hwandae was 20, turning 21 in August, while Ricky was 17. It just didn’t sit right with him.
Ricky couldn’t say that he didn’t have a tiny crush on Hwandae, but that was as far as it went. But, Hwandae was persistent. At first, it was kinda cute. No one had ever really given Ricky as much attention as he desired. Ricky's parents weren't very emotionally active. And Ricky was grateful for the time he was able to spend with his sister, but one could only play dress up so many times. The affection and attention Hwandae was giving him was nice.
Hwandae would send Ricky a handful of cat videos, and when they were having a good time texting, he would type out the question.
They would be at a 'study session', just hanging out, having a good time, and then he would ask the question.
When it was just the two of them in the dance studio he would blurt out the question.
It became overbearing. And, he would never let Ricky say ‘no’. He would stop him just before and say, “Just think about it, Ricky.” And Ricky couldn’t *breathe*. Hwandae just wouldn’t leave him alone. Ricky had even tried to avoid Hwandae at times. But no matter what he did, Hwandae just would not stop.
The final straw was when he asked Ricky out in the cafe they went to weekly.
The server had brought out a cute little cake. Ricky was confused. He hadn't ordered a cake. “Umm, ma’am. I didn’t order this.” Maybe the server had gotten an order mixed up?
Upon further inspection, Ricky saw that there were beautifully written words on the cake. It was that question, that damn question, ‘Will you date me?’ Ricky looked up at Hwandae ready to reject him, but everyone was staring at them. The cafe was silent, waiting for Ricky to answer. A few people had their phones out, recording. The staff were staring at them from behind the counter, all giggling and whispering. Fawning over the cute tactic.
And staring right at him was Hwandae with a huge smile and those dark, dark eyes. He was pointing his own phone at him, most likely filming. All their eyes made Ricky want to peel the skin off his body. Ricky wanted to smash all their phones on the ground.
“Okay.” Ricky plastered a huge smile on his face. Oh Hwandae, how considerate of him. Ricky wanted to scream.
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They had been dating for a month. Their relationship had been surprisingly stable. The first week, Ricky had been apprehensive. He didn't know how to act around Hwandae. He looked for answers on Google, but all he got back was that he was either paranoid or that he should talk to his partner about his feelings. He asked his fellow trainees, but they all looked at him weirdly. So much for answers. Whatever, maybe he was overreacting like usual.
Their relationship got better. Like any, had its challenges, moments of friction, and misunderstanding. But what set it apart was the foundation of trust and respect they'd built together. It wasn't always roses and sunshine. There were late nights spent hunched over laptops, juggling college deadlines and personal goals. But through it all, their commitment to open communication, mutual support, and individual growth never wavered.
They celebrated each other's triumphs, big and small like Hwandae's work promotion and Ricky showing major progress in his signing. They were each other's champions, loudest cheerleaders, and confidantes. When doubts crept in, a squeeze of the hand or a knowing look was enough to reassure, to remind them of their journey together.
Ricky was happy. Content.
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Hwandae’s birthday arrived fast. Ricky had decided to bake a cake for him. He wasn’t the best cook or baker, but he had poured his heart into making the cake. Ricky had called Hwandae to the kitchen. When he gave the cake to Hwandae, he was rewarded with a sweet kiss on the lips.
Ricky cut into the cake and placed a piece on a plate for Hwandae. Hwandae bit into the cake and Ricky watched as he slowly chewed and swallowed. He bit his lip nervously as he waited for Hwandae’s reaction. Hwandae looked at Ricky with a smile. Ricky smiled back, relieved. “It’s okay,” Ricky’s smile slipped, “just a little too sweet for me.”
Hwandae ‘tsked’. “Don’t worry, babe.” He still had a smile on his face. “You’ll get better at this.”
Hwandae stood up and walked over to Ricky. He grabbed his jaw gently and pulled him into a kiss. “This looks great on you though.” He tugged on the pink apron Ricky was wearing. He then patted Ricky’s butt and walked into the living room.
His sister had begged their mother to buy the apron for Ricky. She claimed that he needed it for when they played princesses. She was the princess and he was her servant. He rolled his eyes every time she made him wear it, but now he adored it.
The piece of cake was left on the table. A tiny bite was taken out of it. Ricky felt a tear run down his cheek. All that work for nothing. He then quickly wiped the tear away. Gosh, he was such a baby. Crying over a cake.
Ricky cut the rest of the cake up and placed it in a plastic container. He would just hand it out to the other trainees. It would be a waste to throw it away.
With the cake taken care of, Ricky made his way to his room, where he laid down and began to think about everything that had happened. He couldn't help but feel melancholy over how Hwandae reacted to the cake. It made the moment just feel embarrassing. Ricky wished that Hwandae could've been more enthusiastic about it instead of simply saying it was too sweet for him.
But whatever, no use crying over spilled milk.
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Chapter 2: The void ate me
Summary:
Edited: 2024/04/14 (minor editing no need to reread chapter)
Notes:
Hello! I'm here with the second chapter. Yay!!!! I hope you guys are enjoying the story so far!
The chapter title is from the song, 'VOID' by Melanie Martinez.
So, this chapter gets pretty heavy. I will put chapter warnings below, but please reread the tags. There's nothing new added, yet, but it would be good to get a refresher on what's to come.
Also, take note that I added an additional chapter. When I mentally created the plot everything seemed a lot...shorter. This was actually only supposed to be two (2) chapters long. But, when I actually sat down and physically wrote everything down..yeah. I actually only wrote two (2) scenes of the plot. So don't be surprised if I add more chapters loll.
With that, please enjoy!
!!CW!!
Physical Abuse
Verbal Abuse
Gaslighting
Drink Spiking - Not really, but lying about a drink having alcohol
Date Rape
Rape
Pedophilia
Underaged Rape
!!CW!!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The next day, Ricky brought the container of cake, napkins, and some utensils to the studio. He hoped the other trainees would finish the cake.
During a break, Ricky brought out the container and opened it. As soon as the other trainees saw the dessert, they swarmed.
That’s how Ricky officially met Gyuvin, Yujin, Yunseo, and Seungeon. They had stayed behind to thank Ricky.
Due to constantly having to speak in Korean, Ricky felt more confident speaking to other trainees.
“Ricky, that cake was awesome. Where’d you buy it from?” Gyuvin asked enthusiastically. The boy was three months younger than Ricky. He was an adorable ball of energy.
Ricky smiled at Gyuvin. “I actually made it myself.” He was happy that someone liked the cake.
Gyuvin's eyes lit up. “You made it?” He asked, unable to believe his ears.
Ricky shrugged his shoulders and nodded, a blush spreading across his cheeks. “Yeah, what about it?” The other trainees, Yunseo and Seungeon, started to praise the cake as well.
“What was the occasion?” Seungeon asks. And Ricky deflates slightly. Ricky knows that none of them know what happened, but he can’t help but feel upset at the innocent question.
“Oh, no reason,” Ricky says softly. “I was just bored.” He feels bad for lying, but he also doesn’t want to tell them that his boyfriend had actually rejected the cake.
That night, Hwandae had actually crawled into bed with Ricky and whispered apologies into his ear. Told him how sorry he was for not eating the cake. It had made Ricky feel slightly better about the whole ordeal.
Yunseo perks up a little at the response. “Ricky, we’ll be more than happy to try out your desserts!” He says brightly.
Ricky laughs lightly. “Sure, who not.” It wouldn’t hurt to bring some more sweets in. Plus, it could potentially help him make more friends. He liked spending time with Hwandae, but Ricky needed to talk to other people. “By the way, how old are you guys?”
Gyuvin answers first, “04’, October!” He says eagerly waiting for Ricky to reply.
“04’, May,” Ricky says slyly. “I guess this means I’m your Hyung.”
Gyuvin sighs, and Yunseo and Yujin sigh with him. “04’, October,” Yunseo says pouting slightly.
“07’ March,” Yujin says softly.
Ricky smiles slightly and bumps his shoulder into Yujin’s. “Ahh, you’re just a baby.” He says teasing him slightly. Yujin pouts and blushes. He then grabs another piece of cake before scurrying off.
They all chuckled at Yujin’s antics before Seungeon spoke up. “I’m older than all of you.” He says playfully smug. “04’, January.” And everyone groans playfully.
Ricky finds himself to be happy. He wishes that he had introduced himself earlier, but he’s also happy that he’s at least making friends now. Better late than never.
Ricky laughed warmly as he listened to the other trainees talk amongst themselves. It was a huge relief to finally have some friends in addition to Hwandae. He wasn't nearly as alone as he had been when he first arrived. As the conversation continued, Ricky kept himself from thinking about Hwandae or any of the problems that he had with the man. He wanted to just focus on making friends. And for the first time in a while, he felt like he was actually achieving it.
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That night, Ricky decided to order out for dinner. Usually, when he had guests over, which was rare, he would make dinner himself. But, Hwandae was pretty much a regular guest. The older had his own apartment, a nice one-bedroom, and bath, but it was further out, so they found themselves usually bunkering down at Ricky’s apartment. Ricky found that he enjoyed the company, and felt less lonely with someone to lay in bed with, watch movies, and cook together on occasion.
But tonight, Ricky was too tired to make anything and Hwandae seemed to be tired as well. So, Ricky settled for takeout. He decided to order online at the chicken place down the street. Ricky put in an order for delivery and sat down to watch a movie in the living room with Hwandae. Ricky didn’t really know what the movie was about. It consisted of car chases and shooting, which caused Ricky to lose interest pretty quickly.
Ricky jumped up at the sound of knocking on the door. The food had arrived! Ricky was happy that the food had arrived fairly quickly. He tipped the delivery guy and quickly took the bags into the kitchen. He placed the bags on the table and began to take everything out of the bags.
Hwandae seated himself at the table as Ricky was getting everything out. Once everything was set out, Ricky threw away the bag and sat at the table.
Ricky found himself feeling excited as he grabbed a piece of the mean. The meal consisted of a variety of sweet, plain, and spicy chicken, some fried rice, kimchi, and steamed dumplings. The restaurant was well-known in the neighborhood for its delicious dishes and excellent service. For Ricky, it was the perfect meal to end a tired day.
Ricky picked up a piece of chicken and started to tear into it almost immediately. He hadn’t had the time to eat at all today. He ate as slowly as possible; and tried to take the time to really enjoy the food, but he was so hungry. But, he couldn’t help himself.
Ricky shoveled more and more food into his mouth as he let out tiny grunts of pleasure. He couldn’t believe how much he had missed the delicious taste of chicken. As he continued to eat, he was slightly startled to hear Hwandae give out a loud cough. When he looked up, Hwandae was just staring at him.
Upon further notice, Ricky saw that Hwandae had not even started eating. He was just staring at Ricky. Ricky swallowed thickly. “Hyung, are you okay?” He asked softly.
Hwandae frowned at Ricky and then opened his mouth. “You looked real cozy with those other trainees.”
Ricky furrowed his eyebrows. Why did it matter that he was talking to other people? Was he not allowed to make friends? “I was just conversing with them. Why is that such a problem?”
“You had fun talking with them, didn’t you?” The frown on Hwandae’s mouth widened as he waited for an answer. Ricky sighed and took a large bite out of a piece of chicken.
“Hyung, what’s with the sudden attitude?” Ricky swallowed and took another bite. “Yeah, I had a fun time. What’s wrong with it? It’s not like I was flirting or anything.”
Hwandae barked out a bitter laugh. “Oh, but it seems like you were.” He said angrily. “I leave the room for a few moments and you can’t help but whore yourself around.”
Ricky dropped his food in shock. He felt anger bubble up. “What the hell is your deal? They’re just friends!” How dare Hwandae accuse him of whoring himself around.
“They’re just friends? You’re really going to use that excuse?” Hwandae spat, the rage in his eyes rising. “Those guys are obviously interested in you and you’re over there enjoying their attention. You really are a whore. Always have been and always will be.” Ricky began to shake as he tried to swallow back the sting of Hwandae's words. He didn't know what to say.
Hwandae stood up and sighed as if he was disappointed in Ricky. “I’m heading home. I don’t want to be around my whore of a boyfriend.”
Ricky sat in silence as Hwandae gathered all his stuff. As he walked to the door he paused for a moment. He turned around and looked at Ricky. “By the way,” he looked Ricky up and down. “You’ve gained. Maybe you should cut back on all the grease you’ve been shoving down your throat. Nobody likes a fat idol.” And then he opened the door and walked out.
The words Hwandae said stung more than anything. Ricky felt like he had been stabbed straight through the heart. He just sat there, his face frozen with shock, as Hwandae walked out of the apartment. He felt tears well up in his eyes and his entire body began to tremble. The cruel words Hwandae had spoken echoed in his mind as he stared out the door, desperately watching the man leave.
The door slammed shut and Ricky couldn’t help the sobs that ripped out of his mouth. He placed his hand over his mouth as if it would stop the sobs that poured out. He couldn’t help it as tears streamed down his face. He had never felt so hurt and heartbroken in his life. He had never expected Hwandae to say something so cruel to him. He buried his head in his hands and let out gut-wrenching sobs.
Ricky sat like that for a while. He could hardly wrap his head around what had just happened. What the hell was wrong with Hwandae? He might have been dickish at times, but he had never called him a whore nor had he ever commented on his weight.
Ricky stood up and started clearing the table off. He threw all the trash away and put any leftovers away in the fridge. He wiped the table off and then walked into the living room. He straightened up the couch’s decorative pillows, picked up anything that was on the floor, wiped the coffee table down, and vacuumed the floor.
Ricky turned off the TV and walked into his bathroom. He started the shower and grabbed a towel from under the sink. While he waited for the shower to heat up, he sat on the toilet seat, numb. He then stood up and stripped his clothes off, throwing them into a pile on the floor. Ricky would grab them when he was done.
Ricky opened the shower door and stepped in under the spray of the warm water. He let the water just run down his body for a few minutes. He then went through the motions of cleaning himself. Ricky slowly washed his hair, and then his body.
As the warm water ran down his body, Ricky tried to calm his frantic breathing and tried to steady his mind. He stayed there for a prolonged period, letting the water wash away his feelings of pain and anger. Finally, he stepped out of the shower and dried himself off with the towel. He wrapped himself up in a bathrobe and stepped out of the bathroom. He walked into his bedroom, in a bit of a daze, and sat down on the bed, his thoughts spiraling around his mind.
Ricky stood up and pulled out some sweats and a T-shirt along with some boxers. He quickly dressed. Turning to face his bed, Ricky paused at the sight of his full-body mirror that was hanging on the wall. He slowly walked up to it and looked into the mirror. His eyes drifted down to his stomach. With some hesitation, Ricky pulled up his shirt and turned to the side.
And there it was. It was slightly hidden by the band of his sweatpants, but Ricky could see the slight swell of his stomach. He was gaining weight. Now, normally this wouldn’t have been a problem for Ricky. He had always prided himself on his slim waist and flat stomach, but at times he had actually wanted to put on some weight. He had always had a hard time gaining, so he took what he could get.
So, the weight that Ricky had gained should have made his a little happy, but Hwandae’s words ran through his head like a broken record. Ricky placed his hand on his stomach and sighed. Truly, the swell was nothing; the little bump was likely mostly bloating, but Hwandae’s words had stung a lot. But at the same time, gaining weight was a goal that Ricky had been trying to achieve.
Ricky was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of his phone buzzing. Walking over to his nightstand, Ricky was greeted by a text message from Hwandae. Ricky froze the moment he saw who the message was from. He had completely blocked out the thought that Hwandae would text him. He had thought that the man had probably blocked him on all social media. And seeing a message from the man had made his heart skip a beat. He quickly opened the text, eager to see if he had actually tried to apologize or if he had kept up with the insults.
I've cooled down. I want to apologize for earlier. What I said was way out of line.
Ricky felt like his heart skipped a beat. He couldn't believe that Hwandae had texted him so soon. Part of him did want to run back to Hwandae, but another part of him was reluctant. The words that Hwandae had said to him still echoed in his mind. Ricky looked down at the text again, feeling conflicted, but he decided to follow his gut and ignore the message for now. It was late and he didn't want to get into another argument with Hwandae. He decided that it would be best to just let both of them cool off and collect their thoughts.
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The next morning, Ricky woke up to the sound of banging on his apartment door. Ricky reached over and checked the time on his phone. It was 9:38 am on a Saturday. He groggily stood up from his bed and quickly walked to the door. Opening the door, he was greeted with the sight of Hwandae who looked visibly upset. Hwandae shouldered past Ricky into the apartment. Ricky shut the door and turned around confused.
When Hwandae didn’t turn around and speak Ricky decided to speak up. “Hyung, why are you here so early?” He asked confused and mildly annoyed. “I think you should leave. After last night I don-“ Ricky was abruptly cut off by Hwandae turning around and back handing Ricky across the face.
Ricky was so caught off guard he stumbled onto the floor. In shock, Ricky shakily lifted his hand to his face. “You stupid bitch,” Hwandae roared. “You saw my message, yet you couldn’t reply? All I do for you and you can’t even reply to my message?” This is what Hwandae was so pressed about? The stupid message.
“Y-you just hit me!” He shouted out, voice thick with tears that had yet to fall. “Fuck the message, what the hell is your deal?”
“My deal? My deal is that you acted like a goddamn whore in front of those guys. You have no idea how much that pissed me off seeing you act all flirty with them.” He hissed through his teeth. “And then you didn’t reply to my message. It’s like you have no respect or consideration for my feelings after all the crap I do for you.”
Hwandae took a deep breath and then stomped over to Ricky, leaning in so he was only inches away from his face. He reached out and gripped Ricky's hair tightly. “You’re my boyfriend, so answer my message when I send you one.” He spat, his face contorting with rage. “Never ignore my messages ever again. Or else!”
Ricky's heart beat rapidly. He yelped as he felt the tight grip on his hair. His eyes began to water as his throat closed up, his breathing becoming uneven. He was suddenly very aware of how small he was compared to him. He was completely at his mercy. Hwandae could crush him so easily. Ricky started to quiver in fear, too scared to say anything. His mouth went completely dry as he tried to swallow. “Hwandae,” He choked out, tears running down his cheek. “I’m sorry. I’ll - I’ll never not respond to your message again. I-I’m so sorry.”
Hwandae squeezed his grip tighter, causing Ricky to make a whimpering noise. "Good, you should be sorry. You are my boyfriend and as my boyfriend, you should always answer when I text you." He growled as he gave one last hard yank on Ricky's hair. "You're my boy and mine alone. Got it?" Hwandae's grip loosened up as he finally let go of Ricky's hair.
“Y-yes,” Ricky replied quietly. His hands gripped the bottom of his t-shirt.
“Good,” Hwandae said. He leaned forward and pulled Ricky into a kiss, forcefully shoving his tongue into Ricky’s mouth. The forced kiss caused Ricky’s skin to crawl with disgust at the taste of Hwandae’s tongue. But he didn’t want to risk pissing him off again, so he swallowed down the urge to gag. Hwandae pulled away and smirked. “No, go make some breakfast.”
With that, Hwandae walked into the living room. Ricky held his breath until he heard the sound of the TV turning on. Ricky quickly went into the kitchen and scrambled around in a panic, pulling out whatever ingredients he could find to make an acceptable breakfast. He was trembling and breathing hard, and his hands were shaking as he threw things together. It was the most stressful thing in the world trying to make Hwandae happy.
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Their relationship continued like that for a long time. Hwandae wasn’t always physical. He usually just called Ricky horrible names and then moved on with his day. Hwandae usually hit Ricky when he did something that displeased him greatly.
Usually, it would be because Ricky was caught hanging around with Gyuvin, Seungeon, Yunseo, and Yujin. If Hwandae saw Ricky talking or even looking at any of them he would be called names like, ‘whore’ or ‘slut’. Hwandae would accuse him of cheating and sleeping around and then would hit him a few times.
Ricky refused to stop talking to them though. They were genuinely the only people that brought joy to his days. So, Ricky took to hits and name-calling without shedding a single tear.
Ricky also took to learning how to do his makeup a lot better. One day Hwandae had slammed his hand into his face so hard he blacked out for a few seconds. Ricky woke up with a major headache and a bruise that didn’t go away for days.
Doing his makeup was something looked forward to doing though. He liked to sit at his vanity and try out different types of makeup styles. It made him feel pretty. Hwandae had walked in on Ricky doing his makeup one time. Ricky had thought Hwandae would call him a bunch of horrible names, but he had been surprised when Hwandae praised him for ‘dolling himself up’.
Hwandae had also forced Ricky into making breakfast and dinner almost every day. If the food wasn’t ready or it wasn’t done to Hwandae’s liking, he would pull Ricky by the hair down the hallway and lock him in the storage closet. It was always cold and dark. Hwandae would leave him in the closet for however long he deemed necessary. Sometimes that was minutes and most times it was hours.
When his punishment was done, Hwandae would pull him out of the closet and comfort him. He’d rub his back or run his fingers through his hair. He’d tell him that everything was okay. He’d kiss him softly and then help Ricky clean himself up. It was times like that when Ricky would be oh so confused about Hwandae’s actions.
When Hwandae would comfort him and touch him, it would make all the fear and sadness melt away. Even as his thoughts and feelings were conflicting, he still enjoyed Hwandae’s attention. But he also hated himself at these times. He couldn't understand why he couldn't hate Hwandae. No matter what he did to him, he always wanted to run right back to him.
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In January of 2022, Ricky had sex for the first time with Hwandae.
Hwandae had taken Ricky out to a nice restaurant. It wasn’t a special occasion or anything of the sort. Hwandae claimed that he just wanted to spend time with Ricky.
At some point throughout the night, Ricky had excused himself to go to the bathroom. When he got back, there was a pretty pink drink sitting on the table next to his food. Ricky sat down and looked at Hwandae curiously. Hwandae looked up from his phone and smiled at Ricky. “I ordered you a drink.”
“Hyung, you know I can’t drink alcohol,” Ricky said softly. He didn’t want to anger Hwandae.
“Don’t worry, baby.” Hwandae beamed at Ricky. “It doesn’t have alcohol in it.”
Ricky perked up excitedly. “Oh? What is it?”
Hwandae waved his hand nonchalantly. “Some strawberry-flavored drink.”
Ricky loved strawberry-flavored foods and drinks. So, he was extremely excited about the fact that Hwandae remembered that he enjoyed the flavor. However…
Ricky was apprehensive. Something about the way Hwandae was acting felt…off. Ricky suddenly felt very wary about drinking the drink, but he didn’t want to make Hwandae mad. A nervous feeling crept into his stomach and he was unsure about what to do.
Deciding to trust Hwandae Ricky sipped on the drink. The taste of artificial strawberries burst along his tongue. He didn’t taste any alcohol. Deciding the drink was safe, he took larger gulps. As he continued to sip the drink, Ricky’s body began to feel light and his thoughts began to get fuzzy. He wasn’t sure what exactly was happening to him, but he felt very relaxed and a bit dizzy. Hwandae smiled at him in approval as Ricky sipped more of the drink. He was enjoying this feeling.
Hwandae ordered two more of the strawberry-flavored drinks, eager to have Ricky suck them down. Ricky was in a trance-like state, feeling happy and relaxed as he gulped down more and more of the drink. Hwandae was clearly enjoying the process of feeding him the drinks.
Eventually, Hwandae decided it was time to head home. He paid the bill and called an Uber. Ricky didn’t really pay attention to the whole process. He was too busy giggling at nothing. Once they reached Ricky’s apartment, Hwandae helped Ricky take his shoes off without falling over.
While Hwandae bustled about in the kitchen, Ricky stumbled down the hallway into his bedroom. He sat on his bed and pulled off his jeans and shirt, leaving him in only his boxers.
A few minutes later, Hwandae came into the bedroom and sat on the bed next to Ricky.
Ricky then suddenly pouted. "Hyung, something’s wrong with me," Hwandae smirked at this and pulled Ricky in for another passionate kiss. The kiss was hot and long and full of passion which set Ricky's heart a flutter.
“That’s okay, baby. Let Hyung take care of you.” Hwandae pushed Ricky onto his back and began sliding his boxers down.
As he felt the boxers get pulled down his thighs, he was filled with mixed feelings. He was feeling the effects of the multiple drinks he had drank and it was making him feel weak and confused. Ricky felt his boxers stop at his knees. Hwandae gave him a seductive gaze and his voice was low as he spoke, “Do you want me to take care of you?”
Ricky didn’t reply for a moment before shaking his head. “Hyung, I don’t feel good.” He said, his words heavily slurred out.
Hwandae's smirk suddenly disappeared as his gaze grew darker. His lip curled into a frown as he looked down at Ricky, who was clearly struggling to keep his eyes open. "Did you have too much to drink?" He spat. As he looked down at him, Ricky's words were still slurring, his voice sounding extremely faint.
Ricky’s eyebrows furrowed before shaking his head again. “Hyung, I didn’t drink anything. ” He whined out.
"Then why can't you even keep your eyes open?" He barked. "Don't you dare answer me with some idiotic answer. Are you on drugs of some sort?" Ricky’s forehead felt sticky and his mouth was dry, despite the fact that he had just had three strawberry-flavored drinks.
Ricky shook his head so hard his vision became blurry. Tears began to gather in his eyes. “No.” He said, voice thick. He was confused. He had only drunk what Hwandae had given him.
Hwandae then suddenly wiped Ricky’s tears away. The sudden mood change made Ricky’s head hurt. “Aww, don’t cry baby. You must have taken something from someone. Don’t worry, hyung is gonna take good care of you.” Hwandae pulled off his shirt and then quickly pulled off his pants.
Hwandae pulled Ricky’s boxers the rest of the way off leaving him completely nude. He then pulled his own boxers off. Hwandae leaned over Ricky’s body and began kissing him. Hwandae's passionate kisses made Ricky squirm underneath his touch. His mind was filled with fog as the feelings of arousal overwhelmed his body. His eyes closed as he leaned back on the bed, enjoying the touch of Hwandae's lips against his.
Hwandae moved his lips away from Ricky’s and began kissing down. Ricky's body slightly jolted as he felt Hwandae's kisses begin to trail down his neck. He let out a soft, almost pleasurable moan as the sensation sent shivers down his spine. He felt extremely sensitive at that moment and Hwandae's touch was only causing his arousal to grow.
Hwandae sat up, reached over, and grabbed something from Ricky’s nightstand. It was a small bottle of something. Hwandae opened the cap and squeezed some of whatever was in the tube into his hands. His hands then went down to his cock. Oh, it was lube.
Ricky’s eyes widened a bit as he realized what was happening next. At that moment, his body seemed to shiver. Despite the fog in his thoughts, he was starting to feel worried about what his Hyung was doing. Hwandae was going to do something that he didn’t like.
“Hyung, no.” Hwandae lined his cock up to Ricky’s unprepped hole. “No, Hyung! I don’t wanna.” Ricky slurred out slightly panicked.
Hwandae ignored Ricky’s cries and slammed his cock inside his ass all at once. The air he had in his lungs was knocked out. “Your little hole is so tight, baby boy.” Hwandae groaned out.
Ricky screamed in pain and scraped his nails down Hwandae’s back. “Hyung, please,” He sobbed out, his lips trembling with so much sorrow. Tears streaked down his face. It felt like an eternity before he finally managed to get air back into his lungs. He let out a whimper as his screams turned into soft cries.
“That’s it, cry for daddy, baby.” Hwandae pulled his cock out slightly and then shoved it back in over and over again. Each rub of his cock against Ricky’s walls felt like glass was being scraped along the sensitive flesh of his walls. The pain eventually began to dull slightly as Hwandae pounded into him. Ricky just laid there, whimpering in pain, trying to block everything out.
He didn’t know how much time passed, but Hwandae must have been close because his pace picked up. Ricky felt his hands rub at his chest. “Your tits are so pretty, baby.” His hips then stuttered and slammed his cock into Ricky for the last time. Burning hot seed spilled into Ricky’s abused hole. Hwandae leaned down and kissed Ricky’s lips before pulling out.
Hwandae got out of the bed. Ricky heard the shower start running, so Hwandae was taking a shower. Minutes later, Hwandae walked back into the bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. “Go clean yourself off.” That was all he said as he grabbed a pair of his boxers and sweatpants that he kept in Ricky’s drawers. Hwandae then walked out of the room.
Ricky laid in bed for a few more seconds before he slowly got up. His ass hurt so bad. He slowly limped to the bathroom and shut the door. Ricky slowly grabbed a towel from under the sink and started the shower. Ricky stood under the warm spray and let silent tears run down his face. He then quickly lathered his body up with soap making sure to ignore his ass for as long as possible.
After his body was cleaned off, Ricky unhooked the showerhead and turned the temperature down to more lukewarm. He used one hand to direct the showerhead and used his other hand to gently clear out the cum from his hole. Once he was done, Ricky stepped out of the shower and wrapped the thankfully fluffy towel around his body.
Ricky limped into his bedroom. Upon seeing the blood and fluid-covered bedsheet and blanket, Ricky’s lip trembled. He pulled all his pillows and blanket off the bed and then ripped his sheet off. He balled the sheet and blanket up and threw them in the corner of his room. Ricky grabbed a clean bedsheet and put it on the bed as quickly as his body allowed him to. He then threw his pillows on his bed and lastly grabbed a clean blanket. Ricky then turned off the lights and crawled into bed. As soon as his head hit the pillows, he was out.
The pain and shock had taken a heavy toll on his mind. His entire body was sore and his mind was flooded with thoughts of his Hyung's violent actions. At the moment, he couldn't process the situation. All he knew was that he felt weak, tired, and he was in pain. He didn't want to face his feelings at the moment and just wanted to sleep.
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Notes:
Hello again! Well, this was a rough chapter, but I hope you enjoyed it! This was a difficult chapter for me to write. I personally had to take a few breaks, so there's no shame if you needed to also. Thank you for reading!!!
So, to explain the date night scene: While Ricky goes to the restroom, Hwandae orders an alcoholic drink for Ricky. He makes sure to order a drink where the alcohol is strong, but the taste is covered by the fruity flavor. He then proceeds to tell Ricky that the drink isn't alcoholic. Ricky has never drunk before, so he gets tipsy pretty fast. Hwandae orders Ricky two (2) more drinks to make sure he gets completely drunk. He then takes him home and proceeds to gaslight Ricky into thinking he took something from someone. Ricky is pretty far gone though, so he doesn't really know wtf Hwandae is talking about And then,,,yeah.
As always, I'm open to constructive criticism!!! I'm heading to bed now.
Chapter 3: Anxiety, don't let the pressure get to your head
Notes:
Hello! I’m sorry for the long wait. But, here I am finally with a new chapter!!!!
This chapter is kinda heavy in the beginning, so just be aware of that! Make sure to read the tags at the top before reading, as I did update them. It's also just nice to have a refresher of what's included in the chapter. As always, I'll include this chapter's warnings below!
This chapter's song is, 'Angel Numbers/Ten Toes' by Chris Brown.
Andddd that's all I have, so please enjoy the chapter!!!
!!CW!!
Physical Abuse
Verbal Abuse
Gaslighting
Mentions of Drink Spiking
Mentions of Rape
Pedophilia
Implied Underaged Rape (not talked about, but Ricky is a minor)
Forced Feminization
Manipulation
Self-harm
Dissociation
!!CW!!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
When Ricky woke up, the soft morning light filtered through his curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room. Blinking, he tried to piece together the events of the previous night, but his memories were a blur. As he attempted to sit up, a sharp wave of pain shot through his body, causing him to gasp and clutch the towel wrapped around him.
Confusion etched his features as he surveyed his surroundings, his mind racing to comprehend why he was lying naked on his bed, his body aching in protest with each movement. With great effort, he propped himself up, but the pain intensified, and darkness threatened to engulf his vision, leaving him disoriented and vulnerable.
Ricky’s eyes darted around the room, attempting to piece together any clues. The scattered clothes strewn across the floor and the crumpled sheets huddled in the corner provided cryptic evidence of the previous night, yet the details remained elusive. With a furrowed brow, Ricky’s mind raced, grasping at the fragments of memory buried beneath the fog of uncertainty.
Ricky sat there, his mind a whirlwind of confusion and apprehension. Flashes of fragmented memories danced at the edges of his consciousness, taunting him with their incompleteness. The image of Hwandae offering him drink after drink lingered. He could almost sense the fruity liquid on his tongue, perceiving its sweetness trailing down his throat.
The dull ache in his body reminded him of the consequences of his actions. However, he was torn between avoiding speculation and wanting to uncover the truth. Ricky, with a heavy sigh, set aside his thoughts and focused on the present moment. He clung to the fragile hope that clarity would come through the fog of uncertainty.
Ricky’s heart pounded with a mixture of dread and disbelief as he grappled with the unsettling notion that his boyfriend could have taken advantage of him in his vulnerable state. The mere suggestion sent a shiver crawling along his spine, his mind recoiling from the implications of such a betrayal. With a trembling lip and a heavy heart, he held onto the fragile trust he had built with Hwandae, hoping his fears were just his imagination. He yearned for reassurance, for the comforting embrace of certainty in a world cloaked in shadows of doubt.
Ricky tried to reason with himself. His inner thoughts and emotions contradict each other. Hwandae wouldn’t do that to him. After all, he was his beloved Hyung. He always took care of him and treated him with affection. So why was he experiencing such intense pain in his body? Ricky didn’t want to believe that the man he trusted could’ve done this to him. But the signs were all there pointing to Hwandae being the culprit behind this.
With a determined grit, Ricky pushed through the searing pain coursing through his body, each movement a testament to his unwavering resolve. His muscles protested with every step, trembling beneath the weight of his determination as he navigated the room with cautious deliberation. Each breath heaved with effort, his chest rising and falling in sync with the rhythmic cadence of his labored movements. Though every fiber of his being screamed in protest, Ricky was determined to get some of his clothing and get dressed.
He grabbed some breezy boxers and a large shirt. Achingly slow, he tugged on the clothing. He turned around to grab his towel and upon seeing the showering fabric, he couldn’t stop himself from freezing. Ricky’s heart lurched in his chest as he stared at the towel, his eyes fixated on the telltale stains of dried blood marring the pristine fabric.
A cold shiver snaked down his spine, sending a chill coursing through his veins as he grappled with the stark reality of his situation. The sight of blood, even in small quantities, sent a wave of unease crashing over him, igniting a primal instinct to flee from the looming specter of danger lurking in the shadows. With trembling hands, he reached out, his fingers tracing the crimson smudges with a mixture of dread and disbelief, his mind racing to comprehend the implications of this ominous discovery.
Ricky’s arm twitched involuntarily, the sensation akin to a swarm of tiny ants scurrying along his skin sent shivers of discomfort rippling through his body. With a grimace, he rubbed his nails against his arm, hoping to alleviate the prickling sensation that seemed to intensify with each passing moment. The relentless onslaught of imaginary bites left his flesh raw and tender, a constant reminder of the torment coursing through his nerves. Despite his efforts to quell the sensation, the relentless assault persisted, driving him to the brink of desperation as he sought refuge from the relentless onslaught of phantom discomfort.
Ricky’s chest tightened with an overwhelming wave of sadness, threatening to spill over into tears as he struggled to contain the flood of emotions threatening to engulf him. With a deep, steadying breath, he summoned every ounce of strength within him, pushing back against the tide of despair that threatened to consume him whole. Limping with slow, deliberate steps, he made his way to the living room, where he knew he would find Hwandae. As he entered the room, his eyes fell upon Hwandae sprawled out on the couch, engrossed in some random show. Despite the tumult raging within him, Ricky forced a facade of composure, masking the storm of emotions churning beneath the surface as he prepared to confront the one person who held the key to unlocking the mysteries of his shattered reality.
Ricky’s voice quivered with a mix of confusion, anger, and vulnerability as he stood in front of the hanging TV, blocking Hwandae’s view. His frown deepened, betraying the turmoil raging within him as he demanded answers. “Hwandae, what happened last night?” His words hung heavy in the air, laden with accusation and fear. As he struggled to maintain his composure, the unsettling sensation returned, sending a shiver down his spine. With trembling hands, he instinctively clawed at his arm, desperate to distract himself from the overwhelming flood of emotions threatening to consume him. “What did you do?” His voice wavered, the cracks betraying the fragile facade of strength he had mustered in the face of uncertainty.
Hwandae’s expression morphed from an angry scowl to an annoyed frown as Ricky stood his ground, refusing to be swayed by his friend’s evident frustration. The tension crackled in the air between them, thick with unspoken accusations and unanswered questions. “Something tells me you already know,” Hwandae said as he looked Ricky up and down. Despite the palpable unease, Ricky remained silent, his determination unwavering as he waited for Hwandae to break the uneasy stalemate with the truth he so desperately sought. The weight of the moment hung heavy in the air, each passing second stretching into eternity as they stood locked in a silent battle of wills, the truth lurking just beneath the surface, waiting to be unearthed.
Ricky’s silence caused the tension between them to reach an all-time high, prompting an exasperated sigh from Hwandae as he rolled his eyes. “Obviously, we had sex,” he stated bluntly, a smirk playing on his lips as he observed Ricky’s discomfort. “And from the looks of it, I railed you pretty hard.”The crude insinuation of their encounter caused Ricky’s skin to crawl, his stomach churning with a mix of disgust and betrayal. Tears welled up in his eyes as Hwandae’s callous words pierced through him, leaving behind a trail of hurt and confusion in their wake.
“But I don’t remember anything!” Ricky’s voice trembled on the edge of hysteria, his words tumbling out in a rush of disbelief and desperation. “How could I give proper consent to anything if I can’t even remember what happened?” The sheer absurdity of the situation weighed heavily on him, his mind grappling with the unsettling realization that his ability to consent had been compromised by his lack of memory. It was a glaring red flag, casting doubt on the validity of any consent given in the absence of full awareness and comprehension.
Hwandae’s eyes narrowed as he heard Ricky’s words, anger slowly rising in his chest. “Listen, sweetheart, you were drunk, not drugged.” He barked. “That means you were fully aware of your actions as they were happening. That means you gave consent.” The dismissive lack of empathy in his tone felt like a slap in the face, causing Ricky to feel even more overwhelmed with the flood of confusion and distress that was overwhelming his mind.
Ricky’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “B-but I didn’t drink anything!” he exclaimed, his voice tinged with disbelief. The realization that he hadn’t consumed any alcohol only added another layer of bewilderment to an already overwhelming situation.
Hwandae rolled his eyes in annoyance as he heard Ricky’s words. “Oh please, don’t lie to me.” Hwandae spat. “I saw you drinking multiple drinks. You probably just don’t remember.” He huffed. “You know, your memory loss might just have something to do with the fact that you’re a drunk ass.” The cruel words left Ricky stunned and devastated by Hwandae’s callous indifference.
Ricky’s confusion deepened into a heavy fog of uncertainty. He hadn’t drunk any alcohol though! He wracked his brain, trying to make sense of the situation. If he hadn’t consumed any alcohol, then how...? Suddenly, a chilling realization washed over him like a cold wave crashing against the shore. “It was you, wasn’t it?” he whispered, the words barely escaping his lips as the numbness settled over him like a suffocating blanket. The mere suggestion sent a shiver down his spine, as he grappled with the horrifying possibility that someone he trusted had betrayed him in the most despicable way imaginable.
It was painfully obvious now. The pieces of the puzzle clicked into place with painful clarity, each memory slotting into its rightful place like a sinister jigsaw puzzle. The pretty pink drinks waiting for him, the relentless pressure from Hwandae to keep drinking – it all painted a damning picture of betrayal and manipulation. Ricky’s heart sank as he grappled with the harsh reality unfolding before him. He had never doubted Hwandae’s loyalty before.
Yes, Hwandae tossed him around a bit and called him crude names, but he had never taken advantage of him. The mere thought of Hwandae stooping to such depraved depths was unfathomable. Yet, here he was, forced to confront the bitter truth of his friend’s betrayal. How naive he had been to trust so blindly, to believe in the inherent goodness of those around him. Oh, how gullible he had been indeed. And now, here he was. He was paying the price for his actions.
Hwandae’s smirk vanished, replaced by a mask of emotionless indifference that sent a chill down Ricky’s spine. Though his expression remained stoic, his eyes betrayed the turmoil raging beneath the surface. Dark and heavy, they held the weight of untold secrets and hidden violence, like a tempest waiting to unleash its fury. Ricky’s skin crawled at the intensity of Hwandae’s gaze, the sensation of imaginary ants gnawing at his flesh intensifying with each passing moment. It was as if the very essence of danger lurked within those depths, warning Ricky of the perilous path he had unwittingly tread upon.
Hwandae’s sudden grin sent a shiver down Ricky’s spine, the stark contrast between his previous demeanor and the disarming smile now stretching across his face leaving Ricky feeling unnerved.
“Ricky, baby, you know I would never do that,” Hwandae cooed, his voice honeyed with false sincerity as he rose from the couch and closed the distance between them, his movements calculated and deliberate. Despite the veneer of charm, Ricky couldn’t shake the lingering unease that lingered in the air, a nagging sense of distrust whispering warnings in the recesses of his mind.
Ricky’s instincts kicked in as he instinctively stepped back, his arms wrapping around his torso protectively as he avoided Hwandae’s cold stare, his heart pounding in his chest with a mixture of fear and defiance.
“But you did,” Ricky declared, summoning every ounce of courage within him as he met Hwandae’s gaze head-on. “Hwandae, you took advantage of me.” As Hwandae took a heavy step toward him, closing the distance until they were at arm’s length, Ricky felt a surge of panic course through him. Words flowed out his mouth, borderline hysterical. “No matter how you look at it, you raped me. I want to break-,” Before he could finish his sentence, he was abruptly cut off by a rough shove, sending him stumbling backward with a gasp of surprise.
Ricky’s body collided with the decorative table beneath the hanging TV, the impact sending a jolt of searing pain radiating through his body. With a cry of both pain and shock, he sprawled backward, his momentum causing the decorations on the table to topple and scatter in his wake. The unexpected intrusion left him reeling, his senses overwhelmed by the cacophony of crashing objects and the throbbing ache pulsating throughout his body.
Pain exploded in Ricky’s senses as he felt a hand clamp around his throat, cutting off his air supply as his body was forcefully shoved against the unforgiving wall behind him. His head thudded against the hard surface, stars dancing in his vision as he struggled to maintain consciousness. With a desperate surge of adrenaline, Ricky instinctively reached up, his hands finding purchase on Hwandae’s wrists. Gripping tightly, he dug his perfectly manicured nails into the offending wrists, a desperate attempt to pry himself free from the suffocating grip constricting his throat.
Ricky’s tear-filled eyes pleaded with Hwandae for mercy, but the man remained eerily emotionless, his stoic facade unyielding even in the face of Ricky’s desperate struggle. Not even the sensation of Ricky’s nails digging into his skin elicited a reaction from Hwandae as he leaned in close, his breath hot against Ricky’s ear. “Oh, sweetheart,” he whispered, the words dripping with venom as he sank his teeth into the delicate shell of Ricky’s ear, eliciting a sharp gasp of pain from Ricky’s lips. Pulling away, Hwandae’s hand remained firmly planted on Ricky’s throat, a chilling reminder of the power he held over him. “If only there was somebody who actually fucking cared.”
“You’re mine. My pretty little bitch to keep,” he roughly kissed Ricky’s lips. Ricky’s heart pounded in his chest as Hwandae’s words seared into his mind like a brand, leaving him feeling trapped and powerless in their wake, “and do as I please with.” The rough kiss on his mouth felt like a violation, a reminder of his vulnerability in the face of Hwandae’s dominance.
As Hwandae released him and stepped back, Ricky remained frozen in place, his muscles tensed with a mixture of fear and resignation. “So, be a good little girl for me, okay?” Hwandae’s taunting voice echoed in the silence, a chilling command that hung in the air long after he had disappeared down the hallway, leaving Ricky alone with the echoes of his shattered sense of self.
Ricky watched in silence as Hwandae returned, his demeanor now completely transformed, a stark contrast to the menacing presence he had just exhibited. With an air of nonchalance, Hwandae announced his departure, his words ringing hollow in the oppressive silence of the room. “I’m leaving. I’ll be back sometime soon. Clean this pigsty up.” He paused momentarily, “If you ever try to leave me, I’ll fucking kill you.”And with that, he walked out the door, leaving Ricky alone.
Ricky believed Hwandae, for he knew.
Ricky’s body trembled with the weight of his emotions as tears streamed silently down his cheeks, his silent anguish a testament to the depth of his pain. Slumping down the wall, he sank onto the decorative table, his legs pulled tightly to his chest as he sought solace in the comforting embrace of solitude. With his face buried between his knees, he surrendered to the overwhelming flood of emotions that threatened to engulf him, allowing himself a moment of vulnerability in the privacy of his despair.
Time seemed to stand still as he sat in silence, the weight of his anguish pressing down upon him like a heavy blanket suffocating his spirit. But as the minutes stretched into hours, a flicker of determination ignited within him, driving him to slowly rise to his feet, his resolve strengthened by the resilience that burned within his soul. He gathered what little will he had and finally slowly stood up.
As Ricky methodically tidied up the living room, a sense of detachment enveloped him, numbing the raw edges of his emotions as he mechanically restored order to the chaos that had unfolded earlier. He picked up the fallen decorations with a sigh, the broken remnants discarded with a sense of finality as he swept away the physical traces of his turmoil. Moving with a quiet determination, he vacuumed the rug, swept, and mopped the surrounding area, each action a small act of defiance against the darkness threatening to consume him. The kitchen was soon gleaming with newfound cleanliness, the last of the dishes washed and put away with a sense of quiet resolve.
Gathering up any stray laundry, Ricky loaded them into the washer before turning his attention to the bathroom. As he wiped down the mirror, a haunting reflection stared back at him, the weariness etched into his features a stark reminder of the toll his ordeal had taken.
As Ricky examined his reflection in the mirror, a wave of exhaustion washed over him, his tired eyes showcasing the sleepless nights he had endured. Dark circles hung beneath his eyes, a testament to the restless hours spent staring out his window. His eyes were red and swollen from tears shed in silent anguish, the remnants of his emotional turmoil etched into his weary features. His skin appeared pale, red, and splotchy, a stark contrast to its usual vibrancy, the physical manifestation of the internal battle raging within him. His cheeks and lips bore the telltale signs of recent tears, slightly puffy and inflamed.
But it was his neck that drew Ricky’s attention. A heavy sigh escaped Ricky’s lips as he traced the angry red skin on his neck, his fingers coming to rest on the unmistakable handprint left behind by Hwandae’s violent grip. The bruise had already begun to take on a sickly bluish-purple hue, a vivid reminder of the pain he had endured at the hands of Hwandae. Yet, despite the visible evidence of his suffering, Ricky felt strangely detached, numb to the physical and emotional scars that marred his skin. It was as if he had become a spectator to his pain, an observer in his own life, disconnected from the reality unfolding around him.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
Ricky arrived home much later than usual that day, his delay was attributed to his decision to extend his practice session to make significant progress. Between the daily beatings and rigorous training, Ricky’s body was slowly becoming broken. The relentless demands on his body were gradually eroding his stamina and vitality, making it increasingly challenging for him to maintain his usual pace and energy levels.
Ricky himself was getting tired.
As Ricky turned the key in the lock and pushed open the door to his apartment, the familiar murmur of the television greeted him, floating through the air like a lazy Sunday morning melody. A soft curse slipped from his lips, barely audible but heavy with annoyance; it seemed Hwandae was already home. With practiced ease, he slipped off his shoes near the door, the gentle padding of his footsteps echoing in the hallway as he made his way toward the source of the noise in the living room.
As Ricky stepped into the living room, his eyes quickly found Hwandae lounging on the couch, a casual air about him that contrasted with Ricky's weariness. The moment Ricky's presence registered, Hwandae's eyes drifted away from the TV screen, lifting with a raised eyebrow that spoke volumes without words. "You're late," he remarked a hint of reproach in his tone.
Ricky's shoulders slumped slightly, a mix of fatigue and guilt settling in as he lowered his gaze to the floor. "I'm sorry," he murmured, the apology tinged with sincerity. "I'll get changed and start on dinner." He knew all too well the consequences of getting on Hwandae's bad side, especially when exhaustion clung to his bones like a heavy cloak. The last thing he wanted was to provoke an argument or disappointment tonight.
Hwandae looked Ricky up and down before waving him off. Hwandae's casual dismissal prompted Ricky to keep his eyes lowered as he silently made his way toward his bedroom, each step a small retreat from the tension in the air. The soft click of the door closing behind him released a sigh of relief that had been building within him since he stepped through the front door. Leaning against the door for a moment, Ricky allowed himself a moment of respite in the quiet of his room, grateful that Hwandae hadn't pursued the matter further.
Eager to shed the day's weight, Ricky wasted no time in shedding his sweat-soaked clothes, tossing them unceremoniously into the awaiting golden-colored hamper. His room, a sanctuary of sorts, held a neat stack of towels, a small indulgence he allowed himself for the sake of convenience and a semblance of control over his hectic life.
With practiced efficiency, he wrapped a soft, comforting towel around his waist, the fabric a gentle embrace against his skin. The bathroom, a haven of steam and solitude, beckoned him, and he hurried inside. The rush of warm water cascading over him was a welcome relief, washing away not just the grime of the day but also the weariness that clung to his bones.
Emerging from the shower, Ricky returned to his room, shutting the door behind him with a quiet click that sealed off the outside world for a precious moment. With deliberate motions, he dried himself off, each stroke of the towel a small act of self-care amidst the chaos of his day.
As Ricky stood before his dresser, the mundane task of grabbing fresh clothes turned into a bewildering discovery. Pulling open the drawer that usually housed his trusty boxers, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he was met with an array of panties instead. A sinking feeling settled in his stomach as he frantically searched, hoping against hope to find his familiar garments. But they were nowhere to be found.
His heart quickened its pace, mirroring the frantic rhythm of his thoughts as he moved to the pajama drawer, only to find it bereft of his usual comfy attire, replaced cruelly by lacy nightgowns and frilly sleepwear that felt foreign against his fingertips. Panic tightened its grip on his chest, the pressure mounting behind his eyes threatening to spill over.
For a fleeting moment, Ricky held onto a sliver of hope as he turned towards his closet, praying that at least his main wardrobe remained untouched. However, as the closet doors swung open to reveal his neatly organized array of clothes, Ricky's breath caught in his throat. A devastated sob escaped him as he ran trembling fingers over the fabrics that were now alien to him.
Gone were his reliable neutrals, replaced with an onslaught of vibrant colors, pretty dresses, and crop tops that seemed to mock his sense of self. The wardrobe metamorphosis mirrored the upheaval in his mind, leaving Ricky feeling as if he were a stranger in his own space, his identity stripped away along with his familiar clothes.
Clad in the comforting embrace of his robe, a solitary anchor amidst the chaos of his altered wardrobe, Ricky mustered the courage to confront Hwandae in the living room. Each step felt like a march toward the pits of hell. His heart was thumping so hard that he was sure it would break open his ribcage and expose all his organs to the world. Maybe then would he finally rest.
Hwandae's smirk, a cruel punctuation to Ricky's turmoil, greeted him as he stood before him, his voice portraying the anxiety that knotted in his throat. "W-where are my clothes?" Ricky's words wavered slightly, his stutter exposing the depth of his unease.
Hwandae's response was laced with a mocking tilt of his head, his tone dripping with feigned innocence that Ricky could see through like glass. "Oh, you don’t like the clothes I bought you?" The silky smoothness of Hwandae's voice contrasted sharply with the palpable tension in the room, a tension that Ricky could feel tightening around him like a noose.
A single tear, a testament to the emotional weight bearing down on him, traced a path down Ricky's cheek as he pleaded with desperation in his voice. "Please, I just want my clothes. I can’t go out wearing those." The frustration and confusion bubbled within him, questions swirling in his mind like a storm. Why was it always some form of torment? What had he done to deserve this treatment from Hwandae, the person who was supposed to care for him? The unanswered questions hung heavy in the air, adding to Ricky's sense of helplessness and betrayal.
Hwandae’s unwavering stance bore down on Ricky like a steel weight, his words cutting through the air with a sharpness that matched the glare in his eyes. “But I picked out all those pretty clothes for you,” he reiterated, his tone tinged with exaggerated frustration. “You should be grateful that I bought your ungrateful ass something.”
Ricky’s heart sank further as he struggled to reason with Hwandae, his voice barely above a whisper as he voiced his concerns. “I can’t wear those clothes out in public. What about practice? I can’t wear those to the company.” Each word carried the weight of his anxiety, a plea for understanding that seemed to fall on deaf ears.
Hwandae’s sigh, tinged with annoyance, echoed in the tense silence that followed. “You wear the clothes when I tell you to wear,” he declared firmly, his eyes glinting with a mix of control and assurance. Ricky felt a pang of resignation settle in his chest, the realization sinking in that his autonomy was held at Hwandae’s mercy.
He saw Hwandae’s eyes shine like a thousand lights, “You’ll figure something out, babe.” With that Hwandae turned his attention back to the TV. Conversation over. There was no breaking down these doors.
Ricky's return to his room was marked by a numbing detachment, each step heavy with the weight of his internal turmoil. Closing the door behind him felt like shutting out not just the outside world, but also the suffocating expectations and demands that seemed to dictate his every move. Leaning heavily against the door, he slowly slid down to the carpeted floor, the softness offering a brief respite from the harsh realities that awaited him beyond the room.
His gaze drifted aimlessly to the bedroom wall as if he were staring into nothingness, lost in a haze of confusion and frustration. With a sudden, impulsive movement, he whipped his head back, the impact against the white wooden door eliciting a sharp sting that momentarily cut through the emotional numbness. It was a painful reminder of his own existence amidst the chaos of his thoughts.
Again and again, he repeated the action, each collision bringing a jolt of pain that strangely offered a distraction from the overwhelming weight of his circumstances. The physical agony seemed a fair trade-off for the mental anguish that threatened to consume him whole.
Sloppily rising to his feet, Ricky stumbled towards his bed, his head still throbbing with each heartbeat. Yet, amidst the pain, there was a fleeting sense of clarity, a temporary reprieve from the constant turmoil that had become his reality. As he lay down, the physical discomfort provided a strange comfort, offering a brief respite from his current problem. From the frilly skirts and dresses swaying in his closet. From Hwandae who was certainly simmering in his smugness.
Ricky's compliance with Hwandae's demands felt like a heavy cloak of humiliation draped over his shoulders, each article of clothing a reminder of his lack of control in the situation. Night after night, he resigned himself to wearing the delicate nightgowns chosen for him, the soft fabric providing little comfort against the turmoil within.
The sensation of lacy panties against his skin, once an intimate choice, now felt like a badge of shame he couldn't shake off. Even during practice sessions, where athletic attire was the norm, Ricky squeezed into whatever pair of tights or sweatpants he could find, his discomfort palpable beneath the facade of routine.
The hoodies and shirts handpicked by Hwandae became his uniform for practice, each piece scrutinized for its acceptability by an unseen judge. While most of the trainees remained indifferent or unaware of the change in his wardrobe, Ricky couldn't ignore the subtle glances and silent questions in the eyes of his friends. Their unspoken curiosity and concern were like whispers in the air, reminders of his altered reality that weighed heavily on his spirit. Despite the absence of words, Ricky felt the weight of their observations, a constant reminder of the private battle he fought each day to preserve some semblance of dignity and autonomy.
Ricky was drowning. He wasn’t too sure if he wanted to swim though. Wouldn’t it be much more satisfying if he sunk? Never to resurface.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
In March of 2022, Ricky met Zhang Hao.
Zhang Hao flipped his world upside down.
The presence of the Chinese man brought a refreshing change to Ricky's life. Finally, he found someone else who shared his cultural background and wouldn't beat him for speaking his native language. Zhang Hao's gentle demeanor and warm smile endeared him to everyone around him. Not only was he charming and handsome, but he also possessed a beautiful singing voice that captivated those who listened. Zhang Hao's welcoming nature and willingness to help others made him a beloved figure among the trainees.
Despite his kind disposition, Zhang Hao's keen intelligence allowed him to see through the facade that Ricky presented to the world. He sensed that something was amiss, and his intuition led him to dig deeper into Ricky's hidden struggles.
Ricky found himself growing closer to Zhang Hao as they spent more time together, often staying back after hours alongside their fellow trainees: Gyuvin, Seungeon, Yunseo, Brian, and Ollie. Whenever possible, Yujin would join them as well. Together, they formed a tight-knit group, united by their shared passion for becoming an idol and their dedication to improving their skills.
With the monthly evaluations looming, they would gather to practice tirelessly, pushing each other to excel and supporting one another through the challenges they faced. In the practice room, the air buzzed with energy as melodies filled the space, each member contributing their unique talents to the collective effort. Zhang Hao's guidance and encouragement served as a source of inspiration for Ricky, spurring him to strive for greater heights.
As they spent countless hours together, the bonds of friendship deepened, fostering a sense of camaraderie and mutual respect among the group. Beyond the practice sessions, they would often share meals and engage in lighthearted banter. Through their shared experiences, Ricky discovered a sense of belonging and acceptance that he had long yearned for, finding solace in the company of his fellow trainees who understood and supported him unconditionally.
Hwandae's possessiveness over Ricky often clashed with Ricky's desire to socialize with others. While Hwandae begrudgingly allowed Ricky to hang out with his friends, he couldn't shake off his unease and would often resort to subtle threats to maintain control over Ricky's social interactions. Despite his hesitance, Hwandae knew that isolating Ricky completely would raise suspicions and potentially draw unwanted attention. Therefore, he reluctantly tolerated Ricky's social activities.
The practice room buzzed with energy as Zhang Hao and Ricky, two aspiring K-pop idol trainees, poured their hearts into perfecting their dance routine. Every step and every note was meticulously crafted to dazzle the audience someday. Beads of sweat glistened on their foreheads as they danced in sync, their dedication evident in their synchronized movements.
As the session drew close, Zhang Hao wiped his brow and grinned at Ricky, excitement evident in his eyes. "Hey, Ricky! How about we hit that cute cafe nearby? They have the best iced drinks, perfect for cooling off after our intense practice."
Ricky's initial enthusiasm wavered as he hesitated, glancing at his phone discreetly. There were a few missed calls and messages from his boyfriend, reminding him of their plans for the evening. Ricky's heart sank a little, knowing that Hwandae would have a fit if he knew Ricky was going out, especially without notice.
"Um, I'm not sure, Hao-ge," Ricky replied, his tone hesitant. "I might have some other stuff to take care of after practice."
Zhang Hao raised an eyebrow, sensing Ricky's hesitation. "Come on, Ricky. We all need a break sometimes, especially after a tough practice session like today. Plus, everyone else is coming too."
Ricky bit his lip, torn between the desire to spend time with his fellow trainees and the fear of revealing too much about his personal life. "I know, but I'm not sure if I can make it today."
Zhang Hao sensed Ricky's unease and softened his approach, leaning in slightly. "Is everything okay, Ricky? You seem a bit off."
Ricky hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. "It's just... some personal stuff. I'll figure it out."
Zhang Hao nodded sympathetically, understanding the complexities of balancing personal life with the demands of their training. "I get it, Ricky. But, I don't want you to get too stressed out with anything. I can respect and undersrand that you're dealing with personal things, but sometimes, we need to recharge together too. ust know that we're all here for each other, no matter what."
Ricky managed a small smile, grateful for Zhang Hao's understanding. Zhang Hao was right though. He did need some time to recharge. After a moment of internal struggle, he made a decision. "Okay, let's go to the cafe. I could use a break."
Zhang Hao grinned, slinging an arm around Ricky's waist. "That's the spirit! Let's go enjoy some good coffee and laughs."
With newfound resolve, Ricky joined the group of trainees as they made their way to the cafe, their laughter and camaraderie echoing through the streets. Despite the lingering concerns about his Hwandae's reaction, Ricky allowed himself to immerse in the warmth of friendship and shared dreams, savoring the simple joy of being surrounded by fellow aspiring idols. Despite the complexities, he welcomed the chance to unwind with friends who shared his dreams and passions, if only for a fleeting moment.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
A few weeks later, Zhang Hao approached Ricky asking if he would get coffee again, but this time with just him and Yujin.
The quaint cafe, nestled between bustling streets, exuded warmth and coziness with its soft lighting and rustic decor. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the sweet scent of pastries, creating an inviting atmosphere that welcomed patrons to linger and unwind.
Zhang Hao, Ricky, and Yujin settled into a cozy corner booth, the sunlight filtering through the sheer curtains casting a gentle glow over their table. The soft hum of background music added a soothing backdrop to their conversation, creating a sense of intimacy despite the cafe's bustling ambiance.
As they sipped their drinks—iced lattes, tea, and a refreshing lemonade—the trio delved into casual chatter about their recent dance practice and upcoming performances. Laughter punctuated their discussions, highlighting the camaraderie shared among trainees chasing the same dream.
After a lull in the conversation, Zhang Hao's expression turned more serious as he glanced at Ricky, concern etched in his features. He cleared his throat, drawing Ricky's attention away from his cup of tea.
"Hey, Ricky," Zhang Hao's voice carried a mix of gentleness and determination. "I wanted to talk to you about something important."
Ricky looked up, curiosity flickering in his eyes as he set down his cup. "Yeah, what's up, Hao-ge?"
Zhang Hao hesitated briefly, his gaze shifting between Ricky and Yujin before he continued. "I've noticed that you've been coming to practice with some bruises lately. And today, even though you covered them with foundation, I could still see them."
Ricky's demeanor shifted, surprise mingling with defensiveness as he processed Zhang Hao's observation. "It's nothing, just some accidents during practice."
Zhang Hao shared a knowing glance with Yujin, who had been listening intently, his eyes reflecting empathy and understanding. Yujin leaned forward, his voice was soft but resolute. "Ricky, I get it. My mom went through something similar with my dad. I can see the signs, and I just want you to know that you're not alone."
Ricky's facade cracked slightly, his eyes betraying the emotions he tried to conceal. "You don't understand. It's not like that."
Zhang Hao reached out, his hand hovering over Ricky's shoulder in a gesture of comfort. "Ricky, we're just concerned about you. We want to help."
Ricky pulled away gently, his voice trembling with a mix of gratitude and reluctance. "I appreciate it, really. But you don't need to worry about me. It's not what you think. I should probably go though."
With a heavy silence settling over their table, Zhang Hao and Yujin exchanged resigned glances, respecting Ricky's boundaries while silently promising to keep a watchful eye, just in case. Zhang Hao smiled sadly at Ricky, "Just know that I'm just one call or text away."
As Ricky rose to leave he nodded, his mind swirled with conflicting emotions, the ambiance of the cafe fading into the background as he grappled with his hidden truth. He turned around looking at the two sitting at the table. "I'm sorry I ruined the mood." And then he was gone.
As Ricky walked home the kind words and concern from Zhang Hao and Yujin lingered in his thoughts, planting seeds of doubt and introspection as he navigated his way home, the evening sun casting long shadows on the pavement.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
In September of 2022, Hwandae ruined his life.
It was announced by the company that they would be picking a few trainees for the chance to be on a debut show.
The practice room reverberated with the rhythmic beats of music, dancers moving in harmony as they rehearsed tirelessly for their upcoming debut show. Among them was Hwandae, known for his fierce talent and demanding presence. His eyes glinted with determination as he executed intricate moves, pushing himself to the limit.
But fate had other plans that day. A misstep, a sudden twist, and Hwandae stumbled, collapsing to the ground with a cry of pain. Fellow trainees rushed to his side, concern etched on their faces as they realized the severity of his injury.
At the hospital, the news was devastating. The doctor's words echoed in the sterile room, cutting through the silence like a sharp knife. "I'm sorry, Hwandae-ssi, but the injury to your knee is severe. Dancing, especially at your level, is no longer an option."
Hwandae's eyes widened in disbelief, his hands clenching the bedsheets as if trying to grasp onto his shattered dreams. "No... That can't be true! Dancing is everything to me!"
The reality sunk in slowly, the weight of his newfound limitations settling heavily on his shoulders. Physical therapy became a regular part of Hwandae's life, each session a painful reminder of what he had lost.
Months passed, and as Hwandae struggled to regain mobility, his frustration grew into simmering anger. The debut show, once a beacon of hope and ambition, now loomed as a cruel reminder of his dashed aspirations.
One afternoon at the therapy center, Ricky sat beside Hwandae, anxiety knotting his stomach as he prepared to broach a delicate topic. "Um, Hwandae, I wanted to talk to you about something..."
Hwandae shot him a sharp glance, his tone tinged with bitterness. "What is it, Ricky? Can't you see I'm trying to focus here?"
Ricky swallowed hard, gathering his courage. "I-I wanted to let you know that I've been given the opportunity to participate in the debut show."
Hwandae's eyes narrowed, disbelief and anger flashing across his features. "You think this is the right time to talk about that? When I can't dance anymore because of this stupid knee?"
Ricky flinched at the harshness in Hwandae's voice, but he pressed on, desperation evident in his tone. "I know, and I'm sorry. But this is a chance of a lifetime for me, for us."
Hwandae scoffed, bitterness dripping from his words. "For you, maybe. What about me? I can't compete, and you want to go flaunt your success in front of me?"
Ricky's heart sank, guilt gnawing at him. "I don't want to leave you behind, Hwandae. We've worked so hard together."
A cruel smirk twisted Hwandae's lips as he leaned in closer, his voice low and cutting. "Then prove it. If you want to participate in that show, you'll pay for my hospital bills, cover my college tuition, and let me move in with you."
Ricky's eyes widened in shock, disbelief washing over him. The demands were steep, almost extortionate, but the desire to debut as an idol burned fiercely within him. "Hwandae, I-I don't know if I can..." Yes, his family was rich, but Ricky wasn't even sure they would allow this.
Hwandae's gaze hardened, his tone final. "Take it or leave it, Ricky. The choice is yours."
Ricky's shoulders slumped in defeat, the weight of his decision heavy on his conscience. "Fine, I'll do it."
As Ricky left the therapy center that day, his steps heavy with resignation, he couldn't shake off the bitter taste of compromise and manipulation that hung in the air. The road to his dreams seemed paved with sacrifices he never imagined making, each step forward tinged with the shadows of Hwandae's control.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
Ricky looked around his new dorm room and his throat tightened.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
Notes:
Hello again! I hope you enjoyed the chapter!! This is the second to last chapter!! I’m both sad and happy. Sad that it's ending, but happy considering it'll be my first completed fic!
BTW in no way am I saying that Yujin's family situation is real, I just added this in for the plot. I'm sure Yujin's family is incredibly pleasant.
Anyways, here is the link to my discord! You can join if you want to. Some people join and ask me questions in my dms. You can come chat in the server or chat at me in dms! Also, if you don't want to comment, i made a google form for anon questioning and chatting!
Link for forms: Google Forms!!!
Link to discord: My Discord!!!
Chapter 4: I Wave Goodbye To The End Of Beginnings
Notes:
Hello! I'm back! After a long wait, this chapter is done! I don't have much to say, but chapter warnings are below as usual.
The chapter title is from the song, 'End Of Beginning' by Djo.
I hope you enjoy the final chapter of WEST(ITTWL)!
!TW!
Abusive relationships - Physical, Emotional, and Mental
Mentioned Rape - reluctant consensual sex
Gaslighting
Self-harm (not too graphic)
Mentioned Pedophilia
Mentioned Underaged Rape
Mentioned Date Rape
Mentioned Drink Spiking
!TW!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Boys Planet had been both a blessing and a curse for Ricky. It was liberating in every conceivable way. For the first time, he experienced a sense of autonomy that had always felt just out of reach. Being away from Hwandae felt like finally exhaling after holding his breath for far too long. He no longer had to follow the rigid, pre-determined routines dictated by others. No more strict meal plans that left him hungry or endless rehearsals that wore his body down to the bone. He was free to eat what he wanted, drink when he pleased, and dress in clothes that expressed his style—not the twisted clothes Hwandae wanted him to wear.
The newfound control over his own life was dizzying. It was as if an invisible weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and the air felt clearer, lighter, and easier to breathe. The first night at the dorms had been almost surreal. Ricky had sat on his bed, surrounded by unfamiliar faces, and he couldn’t quite grasp how he had made it this far. He had stared at the blank white walls of the room he would share with the other trainees, his mind racing with a confusing mix of excitement and disbelief. He had made it—against all odds, despite the doubts whispered behind his back and despite the constant scrutiny.
His joy was so pure and overwhelming that it almost made him forget the tension crackling in the air. But not quite.
Even as he settled into his new routine, it was impossible to ignore the lingering anxiety simmering beneath his surface. There were the constant stares—some curious, some skeptical, and others tinged with a competitive edge that sent shivers down his spine. Zhang Hao and Yujin, in particular, seemed to have an unspoken agreement to observe him from afar. Their eyes would follow him during practice, analyzing every move he made, and he couldn’t help but wonder what they saw.
Ricky wasn’t sure, but he chose to focus on the positives. The freedom of this new chapter allowed him to ignore the uneasy feeling creeping up his spine whenever he caught Zhang Hao’s contemplative gaze or when Yujin’s sharp eyes seemed to dissect his every word. He forced himself to smile more, push himself harder in practice, and prove that he was okay to both them and himself.
Ricky let out a long, exhausted sigh as he crouched by the edge of his bed, tugging his duffel bag closer. His fingers fumbled with the zipper, dragging it open in search of something simple—just pajamas and boxers. The day had already drained him, and all he wanted was the comfort of slipping into his own clothes and feeling like himself again. But as his hands dove deeper into the bag, the contents unraveled into something unexpected.
Ricky’s breath hitched as he rifled through his bag, trying to make as little noise as possible. Pajamas. Boxers. That’s all he needed—just something simple to get him through the night. His fingers moved faster as panic began to set in, and his heart plummeted the moment he realized what he was touching. Silk. Lace. Fabrics too soft and delicate, too foreign. His eyes widened in horror, and instinctively, he shielded the bag’s contents from view, glancing toward his unsuspecting roommates. The last thing he needed was their curiosity.
Hwandae. Of course. His throat tightened as the realization hit him. The bastard had gone through his things before he left. How did I not see this coming? Every piece of clothing he had carefully selected—items that felt like his own, that made him comfortable—was gone. In their place were women’s clothing. Nightgowns. Panties. And, to his disgust, a small selection of thongs buried beneath the layers, like a cruel afterthought.
His jaw clenched as sharp and bitter anger churned beneath his skin. He grabbed the bag and hurried to the shared bathroom, slamming the door behind him. The click of the lock was oddly satisfying, a barrier between himself and the outside world, if only for a moment.
Ricky dropped the bag onto the cold tile floor and with shaking hands, dumped its contents out. As the clothes tumbled across the floor, a small whimper escaped his lips before he could stop it. His vision blurred, and he blinked furiously, forcing back the tears that threatened to spill.
He should’ve known better. Of course, Hwandae would never let him have even a sliver of independence. Why had he been so naïve? The one time he tried to carve out a small piece of comfort for himself, it was taken from him. He could almost hear Hwandae’s smug voice in his head, dripping with condescension. You don’t get to have things your way, Ricky. You’ll never be free of me.
Ricky’s hands shook as he sorted through the clothes, hoping—praying—that something, anything, might be salvageable. To his slight relief, the items weren’t entirely outrageous. They were all plucked from the women’s section, but at least they weren’t overly feminine, save for the frilly underwear that stood out like a taunt. Still, every piece felt like a violation, a reminder of the control Hwandae still held over him, even from miles away.
He bit his lip, suppressing a fresh wave of frustration, and pulled out a pair of pink, baggy sweatpants. They were soft, too soft, but they would have to do. Next came a long-sleeved black shirt that clung a little too tightly to his frame, hugging him in an unfamiliar way. Ricky exhaled shakily, trying to steady himself. This wasn’t what he wanted, but it was better than nothing.
With a bitter grimace, he reached for a pair of frilly underwear that looked almost like boxers. The lace trim felt ridiculous against his skin, but it was the closest thing to normal he could find. Swallowing his pride, he pulled them on, followed by the sweatpants and the shirt. It felt strange—foreign—but it would have to do.
He caught his reflection in the bathroom mirror, and a bitter smile twisted on his lips. Even here, with all the freedom he thought he had gained, Hwandae’s shadow still clung to him like a second skin. Ricky exhaled, forcing the tightness in his chest to ease. It wasn’t perfect, but at least he was covered.
He turned off the bathroom light, gripping the edge of the sink for just a moment longer than necessary, grounding himself before stepping back into the world outside.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
At some point, the guilt of leaving Hwandae began to gnaw at Ricky, burrowing deeper into his mind until it became impossible to ignore. He told himself he had done the right thing by leaving, that Boys Planet was his chance to reclaim his life, but it didn’t feel that way. Freedom wasn’t as simple as walking away. It lingered—like a ghost, like a wound that never quite healed. Anxiety pooled in his chest, bubbling under his skin, making him itch with restlessness. His thoughts became tangled, and every corner of his mind seemed haunted by guilt, regret, and confusion.
He hated Hwandae, hated him with every fiber of his being. But in the quiet moments, when he was alone with nothing but his own thoughts, Ricky couldn’t help but feel guilty for leaving him. It was irrational, he knew that, but the twisted logic wouldn’t leave him alone: if he had stayed, maybe he could’ve managed things better. Maybe Hwandae wouldn’t have spiraled. Perhaps it was his fault things had gotten so bad in the first place. The endless “ what ifs ” circled in his brain like vultures, feeding on his doubt and pulling him deeper into a pit he couldn’t climb out of.
Even though his bruises had faded, his skin smooth once again, Ricky felt disoriented without the familiar marks. He hated that his body had healed, hated the way his arms and legs looked clean—untouched. It made him feel wrong, as if the absence of bruises somehow erased what he had been through. He kept running his hands over his arms, expecting to feel the familiar sting of a bruise under his fingertips. But there was nothing. Just smooth, unmarked skin. And that absence filled him with a strange, sick guilt. He didn’t deserve to look normal. He didn’t deserve to feel okay.
It became too much to bear. The freedom he thought he’d find felt more like a punishment, and the pressure building inside him became suffocating. His mind was a warzone, and he had no idea how to stop the battle. One night, overwhelmed and lost in the spiral, Ricky found himself clawing at his skin in desperation. His nails dragged harshly down his forearms, leaving angry, red welts that stung with each touch. The pain gave him something to focus on—something real, something he could control. He pressed harder, leaving long marks across his pale skin until his breath came in shallow, ragged gasps.
Eventually, he locked himself in the bathroom, the sound of the lock clicking echoing in the small, sterile space. He sat on the cold floor, back against the wall, his heart thundering in his chest as if it were trying to break free. Without thinking, he grabbed the nearest sharp object—a razor hidden in the corner of his bag—and dragged it across his arm. Angry red lines bloomed beneath the blade, and with them came a fleeting, bitter sense of relief. The sharp sting grounded him in a way nothing else could.
When it was over, Ricky sat motionless, staring at the thin, fresh cuts trailing along his forearm. He tugged down the sleeves of his shirt, the fabric sticking slightly to the red lines, hiding them from view. No one could know. Not Zhang Hao. Not Yujin. Not anyone. He wouldn’t give them a reason to look at him with pity.
From then on, Ricky wore long sleeves, regardless of the weather. He told himself it was okay, that it didn’t matter. The sleeves hid the scars, and that was all he cared about. It was like it had never happened as long as no one saw it. But deep down, he knew it wasn’t that simple. The scars might be hidden, but the pain? The guilt? That stayed, festering beneath the surface. And no amount of long sleeves could ever cover that.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
The following months were… something. Being away from Hwandae was more complicated than Ricky had anticipated. As much as he despised him, it was impossible to ignore the uncomfortable truth—he had become dependent on him. Hwandae had dictated every moment of his life, from what he ate to when he slept. Now, without that suffocating structure, Ricky found himself lost. The most minor things felt daunting, like eating. He no longer had someone to cook for, and suddenly, even the act of feeding himself felt unnecessary and strange.
He tried to eat with the other contestants, but their world was chaotic, filled with their own stresses and goals. No one was going to stop and ask if he’d eaten. Sure, Ricky noticed Zhang Hao watching him now and then, those sharp eyes narrowing when Ricky pushed food around his plate. But Zhang Hao had enough on his plate—pun intended. He couldn’t waste energy babysitting Ricky when he was focused on his own survival in the competition. Yujin was too young and too burdened by the pressure of debuting to notice the cracks forming in Ricky’s foundation.
Ricky’s body started to shrink under the weight of neglect, and with every pound he lost, a dark thought whispered in his mind: Hwandae would be proud.
One night, during dinner, Zhang Hao slid into the seat across from Ricky, setting his tray down with deliberate calm. “ You need to eat, ” he said quietly, not bothering to sugarcoat it. His tone was neutral, but the concern was evident in his gaze.
Ricky gave a half-hearted shrug, pushing a spoonful of rice around his tray. “ I’m not hungry .”
Zhang Hao scoffed under his breath. “ That’s not the point. You don’t need to feel hungry to eat. ” His eyes scanned Ricky’s face, lingering on the pale skin and sharper cheekbones. “ You think we haven’t noticed ?”
Before Ricky could respond, Yujin plopped beside him, exhausted and frazzled. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days, his bangs falling messily over his forehead. “ What are we noticing now? ” he asked, stabbing his chopsticks into a piece of chicken.
“ R icky’s eating habits, ” Zhang Hao muttered without missing a beat.
Yujin blinked, confusion spreading across his features. “ What? Why? Ricky’s fine… Right ?”
“D oes he look fine? ” Zhang Hao shot back, arching a brow.
Before Yujin could answer, Gyuvin joined the table, grinning despite the bags under his eyes. “ What’s up with the tension? ” He looked between Ricky, Zhang Hao, and Yujin, sensing the unease. “ Oh no, are we having another intervention? I love these .”
“G yuvin, ” Zhang Hao warned, voice heavy with exasperation, but Gyuvin just shrugged and started picking at his food.
Matthew arrived next, quietly taking the seat beside Gyuvin. He wasn’t one to dive headfirst into drama, but he gave Ricky a soft, knowing look. “ Seriously, Ricky… You’ve gotta take care of yourself, ” he said gently, almost as if he could sense the weight Ricky was carrying. “ It’s not just about food. It’s about surviving this whole mess .”
Ricky clenched his jaw, feeling the walls close in. “ It’s not that easy .”
“I know it’s not, ” Matthew replied, his voice steady and patient. “ But you can’t just fade away. We’re here with you. Let us be here .”
“Y eah, ” Gyuvin chimed in, already halfway through his meal. “ If you pass out or something, we’ll all look bad. Can’t have that, bro .”
Zhang Hao gave Gyuvin a sharp glare, but Ricky’s lips twitched in a rare hint of amusement despite himself.
“ W e’re serious, though, ” Zhang Hao said, pulling Ricky’s focus back. “ We need you here. You’re not doing this alone .”
Yujin nodded slowly, his earlier confusion melting into understanding. “ You don’t have to… you know, prove anything. Not to us .”
Ricky’s throat tightened. For a moment, the urge to dismiss them burned in his chest, but the sincerity in their eyes was overwhelming. These weren’t Hwandae’s words—these were his teammates, people who were trying to see him, even when he was doing his best to disappear.
He exhaled a shaky breath and gave a slight nod, though the weight in his chest didn’t fully lift. It was a start, though. It had to be.
Their words helped, in a way. They didn’t silence the buzzing anxiety that thrummed beneath his skin, nor did they stop the restless itch that made him feel like crawling out of himself. But they made something shift, just a little—like a flicker of warmth sparking deep in his chest, an ember in the middle of a cold winter night. It wasn’t much, but it was something. A reminder that, even in the midst of his chaos, someone was paying attention.
Nothing really got better, but it didn’t spiral deeper, either. He still felt like walking on a razor’s edge, but at least he wasn’t falling. His weight stayed the same—not rising, but no longer dropping. That was enough for now. He still skipped meals sometimes, but on those more challenging days, Matthew would nudge him with a quiet, “Try a bite, okay?” Zhang Hao’s eyes stayed sharp and observant, catching every subtle shift in Ricky’s demeanor, though he never said anything aloud unless he had to. Yujin would distract him with silly complaints about choreography, while Gyuvin kept things light with jokes that were just ridiculous enough to make Ricky snort despite himself.
He still clawed at his arms, dragging his nails over the skin until it burned, chasing the momentary relief the pain gave him. But he stopped short of more dangerous actions. The temptation to reach for the razor was always there, lurking in the back of his mind, whispering its familiar promises. But somehow, he resisted. He didn’t know whether it was because of his guilt at the thought of letting the others down or because he was too tired to follow through; he didn’t know.
He was still breathing. Every inhale felt shallow, like it wasn’t quite enough to fill his lungs, and every exhale stuttered just slightly, as if his chest forgot how to function for a split second. But the breath always came—fragile, uneven, but there. Each breath was proof that, despite everything, he was still here.
Some nights, it got worse. Lying awake in the dark, his mind would drift back to Hwandae’s soft, condescending voice weaving itself into the quiet spaces of his thoughts. You’ll never do this without me, Ricky. You’ll come crawling back. Those words haunted him, looping through his brain like a cruel mantra. On those nights, he curled into himself, arms wrapped tightly around his torso as if holding himself together by sheer will alone.
But then, in the morning, he’d hear the soft clatter of plates as Matthew set the table or the way Gyuvin’s voice cracked as he sang a verse too early, making Yujin groan dramatically. He’d catch Zhang Hao’s silent but knowing glance from across the room, a reminder that someone was watching—not with control or cruelty, but with care. And somehow, those small moments were enough to carry him forward, if only for another day.
He wasn’t healed, not by a long shot. But he was still standing, still breathing, even if it wasn’t steady. And for now, that would have to be enough.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
Finally, it was the end of the survival debut show. The competition was over, but the uncertainty remained, hovering like a storm cloud just on the horizon. They’d been given some time to go home and decompress before the final lineup was announced—the moment that would determine who would debut and who wouldn’t . Ricky should have felt relieved, maybe even excited. But all he could feel was the gnawing tension twisting his stomach into knots. His heart raced every time he thought about the possibility of making it, his mind teetering between hope and dread.
If he made it, he’d be free. Truly free. Free from Hwandae’s control, free from his suffocating presence, free to live without the constant fear of doing something wrong. But that hope came with a heavy price. What would Hwandae do if Ricky succeeded without him? The thought alone made his skin crawl. Hwandae would be furious—dangerously furious—and Ricky had no idea how far that anger would reach. He tried not to think about it. It wasn’t here yet, so there was no use worrying. If he gave in to those thoughts now, he knew he’d spiral, and there was no way he could survive that. Not when he was so close.
So, he buried the fear deep down and decided to spend his time off with his family. It had been too long since he’d seen them—his mother’s warm smile, his sister’s endless chatter. The thought of them was like a balm to his soul, easing the tension that had built up over the past months. With them, he didn’t have to be on guard. He didn’t have to fake a smile or prove anything. He could just be Ricky.
As soon as he stepped into his family’s home, he was enveloped in familiarity. The scent of home-cooked meals greeted him at the door, and his shoulders relaxed for the first time in what felt like forever. Here, he didn’t have to worry about speaking perfect Korean. He could let the words roll off his tongue in Chinese, a language that felt like home. He could cook and bake if he wanted—or not. It was up to him, with no pressure, no expectations. His mother didn’t ask him to explain his absence, and his sister didn’t pry into the shadows lurking in his eyes.
They didn’t know about Hwandae, and he intended to keep it that way. There were too many layers of shame and fear wrapped up in that part of his life—things he didn’t even know how to begin to unravel. He just wanted to enjoy their warmth, to soak in their presence without the taint of his past bleeding through.
For a few precious days, Ricky allowed himself to bask in that sense of normalcy. He sat at the kitchen table while his sister told stories about her school friends, laughing at things that weren’t funny just to hear her giggle in response. He cooked dinner with his mom one night, stirring soup as she hummed along to a song on the radio. It was quiet and peaceful—everything he’d craved during the long nights spent under Hwandae’s control.
In those fleeting moments, it was easy to pretend that this was his life—that there was no final lineup, no looming shadow of Hwandae’s fury waiting to find him. But deep down, Ricky knew this peace was temporary, a dream he would soon have to wake from. Still, for now, he held onto it as tightly as he could. He knew that when the time came, the storm would follow, but at least here, in the warmth of his family’s embrace, he had found a brief and precious refuge.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
Fans screamed in a deafening chorus, their cheers echoing through the venue like waves crashing over Ricky and the others. Everything felt surreal from their designated seats above the audience, as if he were watching the moment unfold from outside his body. The energy in the air was electric—glowing banners, flashing lights, and chants filled every inch of the space. And then it hit him: He made it.
He was debuting.
His name had been called, and the weight of all the sleepless nights, the grueling practices, the doubts, and the sacrifices lifted off his chest in one exhilarating rush. Ricky could feel Zhang Hao’s hand gripping his shoulder in a rare display of affection, Gyuvin bouncing on his toes like he might explode from excitement, and Yujin blinking in disbelief beside him, lips parted in a stunned grin. Matthew’s warm smile radiated calm, his steady presence grounding Ricky in a way no one else could.
They were all here. Zhang Hao, Gyuvin, Yujin, Matthew, Hanbin, Jiwoong, Taerae, Gunwook—and now Ricky. They would debut together in a group called ZEROBASEONE. His heart swelled at the thought. This is it. They were going to become idols, the dream that had seemed so distant for so long now within reach.
The cheers from the crowd surged, and Ricky felt it reverberate in his bones. Fans were chanting their names—his name—and the reality of it made his chest tighten. He was happy. No—he was beyond happy. The kind of happiness that was hard to describe, so overwhelming it felt like floating, like breathing for the first time in years. Sharp and intoxicating, the thrill buzzed through his veins, but his eyes remained dry. No tears came. There was no room left in him for crying—not after everything.
The blood, sweat, and tears he’d poured into this journey had finally paid off. Every bruise, blister, and time he had fallen and forced himself to get back up had all led to this. He would be a star, and no one—not even Hwandae—could take this away from him.
The others were laughing, exchanging hugs, overwhelmed with joy, but Ricky stayed still momentarily, trying to let it all sink in. He glanced around at the people who had been by his side through the chaos. Zhang Hao, who had watched him closely, was always ready to step in if Ricky faltered. Gyuvin, whose boundless energy had been an anchor during dark moments. Yujin was the youngest, but also someone who had grown alongside Ricky in ways that made them feel like brothers. And Matthew, with his quiet wisdom, always knew what to say without saying much at all.
Ricky took a slow breath, savoring the feeling of standing among them. I made it. They all had. For the first time in a long time, Ricky allowed himself to think about the future—not with dread, but with cautious hope. This was a new beginning, one they would face together.
He closed his eyes briefly, letting the roar of the crowd wash over him. When he opened them again, the stage lights were brighter than ever, and the path ahead seemed more transparent than ever.
They were idols now—ZEROBASEONE. This was just the start.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
Living in the dorms with his members was a strange experience for Ricky—chaotic, noisy, and far from the glamorous image he had once imagined. Nine boys under one roof meant constant movement: someone always shouting across the hall, clattering dishes in the kitchen, or playing music way too loudly. It wasn’t perfect, but it was real, and it was his new reality. It felt surreal at times, like he’d stepped into a dream, one he didn’t want to wake from.
The environment was nothing like the suffocating atmosphere he’d endured with Hwandae. Here, there was no fear, no walking on eggshells, no constant scrutiny. The dorm was loud and messy in a way that felt oddly comforting, like the noise was proof of life happening around him. Ricky found moments of joy in the little things—like Taerae’s morning singing sessions or Yujin raiding the fridge at midnight. It was unpredictable and full of chaos, but it was freeing.
Having Gyuvin as a roommate was another layer of that strange comfort. Gyuvin was an unusual combination of respectful and invasive. He somehow knew when to give Ricky space, retreating into his own world when needed, but just as easily, he could burst through that space without warning. He would lean over Ricky’s shoulder without hesitation, steal snacks from his stash, or drape himself across Ricky’s bed as if it were his own. It was maddening—but in a way that made Ricky feel warm and safe, even when he didn’t fully understand why. Gyuvin’s presence filled the quiet spaces in Ricky’s mind, leaving little room for darker thoughts to creep in.
Despite the newfound sense of freedom, Ricky’s past loomed over him like a shadow. His old apartment remained a tether to the life he hadn’t yet escaped. He continued paying rent for the place— Hwandae’s place now. It was an unspoken agreement: as long as Ricky kept footing the bill, Hwandae had a place to stay, and in return, Ricky was spared from his physical presence.
But the distance didn’t stop the harassment. Hwandae’s texts were relentless, filling Ricky’s phone with messages that ranged from desperate pleas to venomous threats. Calls came at all hours of the night, leaving Ricky to silence his phone just to get a few hours of peace.
Why are you ignoring me?
I know you’re not that busy.
You’re mine, Ricky. You’ll always be mine.
Though he knew better than to believe the words sat heavy in his chest. Every time his phone buzzed, a flicker of anxiety bloomed in his gut, but he had an excuse now—a perfect one. Practice. Endless practice, schedules, rehearsals, and recordings. The demands of debut life gave him just enough cover to keep Hwandae at a distance.
“S orry, can’t talk—busy with practice, ” he’d text back mechanically. It was a lifeline, keeping the man at bay for now. But Ricky knew it was temporary. Hwandae’s patience wouldn’t last forever, and the uneasy peace could shatter at any moment.
Still, in the quiet moments when he lay in his dorm bed, listening to Gyuvin’s soft breathing from the other side of the room, Ricky allowed himself to believe—just for a little while—that everything was okay. Here, surrounded by his new members, he was beginning to learn what it felt like to live without fear. He didn’t have to be perfect. He didn’t have to pretend. He just had to exist, one day at a time.
And for now, that was enough.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
Ricky sat at the kitchen table, absently stirring a spoon through his bowl of cereal, though he hadn’t taken a single bite. Across from him, Gyuvin was scarfing down toast with an energy that made it seem like he hadn’t eaten in days. Zhang Hao sat quietly in the corner, sipping his coffee, his sharp eyes flickering between Ricky’s untouched breakfast and the tense set of his jaw.
“Not hungry again?” Zhang Hao’s voice was gentle but firm, the way it always was when he knew something was wrong but didn’t want to push too hard.
Ricky offered a noncommittal shrug, forcing a small smile. “Just… tired,” he murmured, hoping that would be enough to drop the subject. He hated how transparent he was around Zhang Hao. It was as if the older boy could peel back every layer of pretense without even trying.
Gyuvin leaned over the table, mouth still half-full. “You’ve gotta eat something, man. Come on, just a bite. It’s cereal—no effort required.” He nudged the bowl with a teasing grin. “Or I’ll eat it for you.”
Ricky exhaled a soft laugh through his nose, grateful for Gyuvin’s easy presence, even if the sound felt hollow. The problem wasn’t the cereal. The nagging thought had been chewing at the edges of his mind since last night: I need to go back to the apartment.
He hadn’t wanted to leave anything behind, but a few essential things had slipped through the cracks in the rush to move to the dorms. His family photo. A few other personal items, things that carried memories he couldn’t afford to lose. And the thought of Hwandae getting his hands on them made Ricky feel sick to his stomach. What if he had already found them? What if they were gone?
His appetite was nonexistent, but he couldn’t explain why—not without unraveling the thread that tied him back to the apartment, to Hwandae, and all the things he was trying to leave behind. He didn’t want to worry anyone. They had practice in a few hours, and this wasn’t their problem. He could handle it. He had to handle it.
Zhang Hao’s gaze lingered a second too long, his dark eyes narrowing slightly, but he didn’t press further. Instead, he sipped his coffee as if letting Ricky know: I see you. I’m not saying anything now, but I know.
Gyuvin, oblivious to the tension, crunched noisily on his toast and draped himself over Ricky’s shoulder, peering into the untouched cereal bowl. “ Seriously, I will eat this. Don’t test me .”
Ricky snorted and gently pushed him off, the small moment of levity easing some of the weight on his chest. But as Gyuvin returned to his meal and Zhang Hao shifted his focus to his phone, Ricky’s thoughts drifted back to the apartment—his photo, his things, Hwandae.
I’ll go after practice. Just grab the stuff and leave. Quick. Clean. No problem.
But the thought churned in his gut like acid, eating away at him. He couldn’t shake the fear that the longer he waited, the more likely it was that everything he left behind would be gone—or worse, destroyed. His hands curled into fists on the table, and he forced himself to exhale slowly, unclenching his fingers before anyone could notice.
He didn’t want to talk about it. Not now. Not here. This was supposed to be a fresh start, a clean slate. He wouldn’t ruin that by dragging Hwandae’s shadow into the light.
“I’ll eat later,” he muttered, pushing the bowl away as casually as he could.
Zhang Hao gave him a look, sharp and knowing, but didn’t argue. Gyuvin just shrugged and happily stole the bowl for himself, oblivious to the storm brewing beneath Ricky’s calm exterior.
Ricky plastered on a weak smile, pretending everything was fine. But inside, the clock was ticking. And with every second that passed, the knot in his chest pulled tighter, suffocating him bit by bit. Just get through practice, he told himself. Then you can deal with the rest.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
The Uber ride had felt both agonizingly long and far too short. Ricky had sat stiffly in the backseat, staring out the window, hands clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white. As the city lights blurred past, he could feel the anxiety crawling under his skin, itching, gnawing at him like it had a life of its own. When the car finally pulled up to the building, Ricky’s heart was pounding so hard it hurt.
The elevator ride could have been better. The polished steel walls reflected his pale, strained expression back at him from every angle. He gritted his teeth, trying to control the tremor in his hands. The air felt too thick, his breaths too shallow. His hand hovered over the elevator’s control panel as it ascended, a small part of him tempted to hit the emergency stop and run—but he couldn’t . He had to get his things, his photo, and leave for good.
When the elevator dinged, he stepped out, his heartbeat roaring in his ears. Each step down the hallway felt heavy, like walking through wet cement. When he reached the door to the apartment, he typed in the passcode, though his hands trembled so badly it took him three tries to get it right. The soft beep as the lock disengaged made his chest feel tight.
Please let him be out. Please let me grab my things and go.
He pushed the door open quietly, holding his breath as if that might make him invisible. The apartment was dark and silent, and for a moment, Ricky dared to hope. Maybe Hwandae was out. Perhaps he could sneak in and out without trouble. He closed the door behind him with a soft click and shuffled down the hallway toward the bedroom. His footsteps were light, his heart heavier with every step.
But as he opened the bedroom door, the sight that greeted him stopped him cold.
There, tangled in the sheets, was Hwandae—and with him, a girl. She looked young, far too young, her wide eyes widening with shock as Ricky stood frozen in the doorway. The sheets slipped off her shoulder as she scrambled to cover herself, her expression a mix of shame and confusion.
Ricky’s chest felt like it was being crushed under molten anger. The heat started in his gut, burning up his throat and making his head spin. His mind flashed back to every bruise, every cruel word, every violation Hwandae had inflicted on him. Years. He’d spent years enduring this man’s abuse—been groomed at seventeen, drugged, and had his innocence stolen the moment he legally became an adult. Ricky had thought—no, believed—that Hwandae was gay. That all this twisted, sick control was rooted in some warped obsession. But now, here he was, sprawled in Ricky’s bed with another woman.
“Y ou… ” Ricky’s voice cracked, rage bubbling up like poison in his veins. “ You’ve gotta be kidding me .”
Hwandae sat up lazily as if caught doing nothing more than taking a nap. His expression shifted from surprise to annoyance in the blink of an eye. “What the hell are you doing here?” he spat as if Ricky were the one out of place.
“T his is my apartment! ” Ricky’s voice rose without his permission, his fear drowning beneath the sheer weight of betrayal and rage. “ I pay for this place! I pay for everything, and this—this is what you do ?”
Hwandae’s eyes narrowed, his lips curling in a sneer. “ What, you thought you had a claim on me? Grow up, Ricky. We both know what this was .”
Ricky’s fists clenched so hard his nails bit into his palms, the pain barely registering. “No,” he whispered, his voice trembling with fury. “No, you don’t get to say that. Not after everything you’ve done to me.”
The girl shifted awkwardly, pulling the blanket tighter around herself, clearly uncomfortable but too afraid to move. Ricky didn’t even spare her a second glance. His entire focus was locked on Hwandae, the smug tilt of his lips, the man who had ruined him and who was now treating him like nothing more than an inconvenience.
“Y ou beat me. You controlled everything I did. You ruined my life. And now you’re just… just screwing someone else in the apartment I pay for? ” Ricky’s voice cracked as the anger surged higher, burning away the fear that had kept him silent for so long. “ You broke me, and you didn’t even care! You —”
“Oh, please.” Hwandae rolled his eyes and swung his legs over the side of the bed, reaching for his pants on the floor. “Don’t act like you were some saint. You liked it, Ricky. You liked every second of it, and now you’re just pissed that I’ve moved on.”
Ricky’s vision blurred, rage boiling hotter than he knew was possible. “I was seventeen!” he shouted, his voice hoarse, broken. “You drugged me! You took everything from me!”
Hwandae stood, pulling on his pants with the same casualness one might have while getting dressed for the day. “Well,” he said with a cold smirk, “welcome to the real world, Ricky. That’s what people do.”
Something inside Ricky snapped. He took a step forward, fists shaking at his sides, the sheer force of his emotions threatening to drown him. “You’re disgusting,” he spat, voice low and venomous. “You’re a monster.”
Hwandae shrugged, unbothered. “ And you’re still paying for my rent .”
That was it. Ricky’s chest heaved, breaths coming in ragged gasps. He wanted to hit him, wanted to scream until his voice gave out—but he knew that would only give Hwandae the satisfaction of knowing he still had control. Instead, he took a step back, every muscle in his body trembling.
“You can have this place,” Ricky said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “But you’ll never have me again.”
Without waiting for a reply, Ricky turned on his heel and began walking out of the room. The moment Ricky turned to leave, a sharp, vice-like grip latched onto his arm, yanking him backward with brutal force. He barely had time to register what was happening before the first blow landed—a vicious punch to his jaw that sent his head snapping to the side. Pain exploded across his face, white-hot and blinding. His back slammed into the wall with a dull thud, knocking the breath from his lungs.
“You think you can just walk away from me?” Hwandae hissed, venom dripping from his voice as he grabbed Ricky by the collar and slammed him into the wall again. “You ungrateful little shit!”
Before Ricky could regain his footing, Hwandae’s fist connected with his ribs—once, twice—sharp, precise punches designed to hurt, to break. Ricky gasped as the air was forced from his lungs, the pain radiating through his chest, making it impossible to breathe. His knees buckled, but Hwandae didn’t let him fall, grabbing a fistful of his hair and jerking his head back painfully.
“You thought you could leave me?” Hwandae snarled, his voice low and filled with rage. “After everything I’ve done for you? You stupid fucking whore—I made you. You’re nothing without me.”
Another punch came, this time to Ricky’s stomach, making him double over in agony. Hwandae didn’t stop. He kneed Ricky in the side, sending him sprawling to the ground, his cheek scraping against the cold hardwood floor. Ricky tried to crawl away, his body screaming in pain, but Hwandae was relentless, grabbing him by the back of his neck and slamming his head into the floor with a sickening crack.
“You owe me!” Hwandae roared, his voice raw with fury as he hovered over Ricky like a predator. “You think you’re better than me? You think you can walk away? You’re fucking mine! Do you hear me?”
Ricky’s vision blurred, the room spinning violently as blood dripped from his nose and the corner of his mouth. Every inch of his body ached—his ribs felt like they were on fire, his face throbbed, and his limbs felt heavy and useless. He tried to lift his hands to shield himself, but Hwandae kicked him in the side, sending him rolling onto his back with a pained groan.
“You think you can survive out there without me?” Hwandae sneered, towering over him. “You’re weak, Ricky. You’re a joke. You’ll come crawling back, just like you always do.”
Ricky coughed, blood splattering from his lips as he struggled to speak. “I’d… rather… die,” he choked out, every word burning his throat.
Hwandae’s eyes darkened with fury, and he knelt down, grabbing Ricky’s face roughly with one hand, forcing him to meet his gaze. “That can be arranged,” he whispered, his voice cold and terrifyingly calm.
He raised his fist again, and Ricky braced himself, squeezing his eyes shut, knowing there was no stopping what was coming. But before the next blow could land, the girl—forgotten in the chaos—let out a terrified scream from the bed.
“Stop! Please, stop!” she cried, her voice trembling as she clutched the blanket around her.
Hwandae froze, his breathing ragged and uneven. For a moment, the room was filled with nothing but the sound of Ricky’s labored breaths and the girl’s quiet sobs. Then, with a snarl of disgust, Hwandae shoved Ricky’s head to the floor one last time and stood up, wiping his hands as if Ricky were nothing more than dirt beneath his nails.
Ricky lay sprawled on the floor, every nerve in his body screaming in agony. His breaths were shallow and sharp, each inhale feeling like knives slicing through his ribs. Blood dribbled down his nose and pooled at the corner of his mouth, staining the floor beneath him. His vision blurred, but he forced himself to stay awake, blinking slowly at the ceiling above him.
The sound of footsteps filled the air—Hwandae storming out, slamming the door behind him. Ricky flinched at the sound, instinctively tensing, but the pain that followed made his whole body tremble violently. He gasped, struggling to stay conscious, his mind a haze of agony and rage.
Soft, tentative footsteps approached him next. The girl crept out of the bed, pulling on her clothes with shaky hands. Tears streaked down her face as she knelt beside him, her voice soft and trembling. “Are you… are you okay?” she asked, her words stumbling over themselves. She reached out, hesitating, as if unsure whether touching him would help or make things worse.
Ricky turned his head slightly, wincing at the movement. Through the haze of pain, a single thought cut through, sharp and clear. How old is she? His lips parted, and he forced the words out with a wheeze. “ How… old are you ?”
The girl blinked, startled by the question. “I-I just turned 18,” she whispered, her voice cracking as more tears welled in her eyes.
Ricky’s heart shattered in that moment. Tears slipped from his own eyes, hot and uncontrollable, mingling with the blood smeared across his face. He could feel his body tremble violently against the cold floor. She’s just a child , he thought bitterly. He’s doing it again. He did it to me, and now he’s doing it to her.
The weight of it all pressed down on him like an avalanche. The years of manipulation, the stolen innocence, the pain—Hwandae hadn’t changed. He had just found another victim. Ricky tried to speak, but the lump in his throat threatened to choke him. The girl reached out again, her hand brushing his arm gently.
“Can—can I get someone to help you?” she asked, her voice laced with panic. “I… I have my license, and my car is parked downstairs. I can take you somewhere.”
For a moment, Ricky hesitated, the offer swimming through the fog in his mind. He didn’t want to burden her with any more than she already carried. But he knew he couldn’t stay here— couldn’t risk Hwandae coming back. And he needed help.
“My dorm…” Ricky whispered hoarsely, barely able to form the words through the pain. “My friends can help me. I can… I can give you directions.”
The girl nodded quickly, wiping at her face as she fought to steady her breathing. “Okay. Okay, I’ll get you there,” she said, her voice filled with shaky determination. She slipped an arm under Ricky’s, helping him sit up despite his groan of pain. “We’ll get you out of here. I promise.”
Ricky gave a small, broken nod, his body trembling as he leaned heavily against her. As she guided him toward the door, he fought to stay conscious.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
Before stepping out of the apartment, Ricky pulled his hood tightly over his head and slipped on a black mask, his fingers trembling as he secured it over his nose and mouth. He couldn’t risk anyone noticing him—no fans, no strangers. No one could see him like this. His ribs throbbed with every breath, and the corners of his vision blurred, but he forced himself to stay upright.
The girl—her hands equally shaky—practically dragged him to the elevator, her arm around his waist as she tried to support his weight. Ricky stumbled into the elevator with her, leaning heavily against the wall as his knees threatened to buckle. When the doors opened on the ground floor, she hurriedly helped him to her car, her breath shaky but determined.
Inside the car, Ricky’s hands fumbled with his phone as he typed the address to the dorm into the GPS. His fingers shook so badly it took several tries, but eventually, the address popped up. “There,” he whispered, his voice hoarse, before zoning out, his head resting against the window as the city lights blurred outside. His body swayed with every bump in the road, his mind slipping in and out of focus.
When they finally arrived at the dorms, the girl turned to him, eyes full of concern. “Do you need help getting inside?” she asked softly, her voice hesitant but kind.
Ricky shook his head weakly. “No. I… I can do it.” His pride wouldn’t allow him to drag her into this more than she had already been.
He slowly climbed out of the car, gripping the door for balance, and stood there for a moment, swaying on his feet. Every step toward the building was a battle, pain radiating through his limbs. Somehow, he made it to the elevator, leaning heavily against the wall the entire ride up, his breaths shallow and labored.
When the elevator doors opened, he dragged himself to the dorm entrance, each step feeling heavier than the last. His fingers fumbled over the keypad, and he had to try three times before he got the passcode right. The door clicked open, and he stumbled inside, accidentally slamming it shut behind him.
The loud noise echoed through the quiet dorm, but Ricky was too far gone to care. His vision swam, darkness tugging at the edges, and he slid down the wall, collapsing heavily onto the floor. His head rested against the cold wall as he struggled to catch his breath, the pain making it hard to focus.
The dorm was silent, the lights off except for the faint glow from the kitchen appliances. Ricky assumed the others were asleep, tucked away in their rooms, blissfully unaware. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, drifting in and out of consciousness, but the sound of a door creaking open startled him.
A sliver of light spilled into the hallway, and Yujin’s sleepy face appeared in the doorway. “Hyung?” he murmured, rubbing his eyes groggily. When his gaze landed on Ricky, his confusion quickly morphed into horror.
“R-Ricky-hyung!” Yujin gasped, stumbling out of his room and dropping to the floor beside him. His hands hovered uncertainly over Ricky’s battered body, visibly shaking as he tried to figure out what to do.
“H yung… what happened?! ” Yujin’s voice cracked, the panic rising as he looked at the blood smeared across Ricky’s face and the way he was trembling uncontrollably. His fingers ghosted over Ricky’s ribs, too afraid to touch but desperate to do something.
Ricky blinked slowly, his vision swimming as guilt curled in his stomach. Of course, it had to be Yujin. The youngest, still a child, didn’t deserve to see him like this. Ricky wanted to say something, to reassure him somehow, but the words wouldn’t come.
Panicked, Yujin whipped his head toward the hallway and shouted, his voice loud and full of fear. “Hyungs! I need help! Please, hurry!” His shout echoed through the dorm, sharp and urgent.
Doors flew open one by one, the sound of frantic footsteps following close behind. Zhang Hao was the first to appear, his sharp gaze widening as it landed on Ricky’s crumpled form. Gyuvin was right behind him, followed by Taerae, Jiwoong, Matthew, Gunwook, and Hanbin. In a matter of seconds, all eight members were crowded in the hallway, their faces twisted in shock and concern.
Zhang Hao’s expression shifted into something steely and determined. He knelt beside Ricky without hesitation, his hands careful but firm as he assessed the damage. “What the hell happened, Ricky?” he whispered, his tone low but laced with urgency.
Ricky winced, struggling to focus on the faces surrounding him. “Later,” he rasped weakly, his voice barely audible.
“Shit,” Gyuvin whispered under his breath as he knelt on Ricky’s other side, his usual carefree expression replaced by one of sheer panic. “Hyung, you look awful—what happened to you?”
Jiwoong crouched nearby, his calm demeanor masking the worry that flickered in his eyes. “ We need to get him cleaned up. Fast .”
Matthew hovered behind the group, quiet but alert. “I’ll grab the first aid kit,” he said quickly, already turning toward the bathroom.
Hanbin, standing beside Gunwook, crossed his arms tightly over his chest, as if physically restraining himself from panicking. “He needs ice. Towels. Something to help with the swelling,” Hanbin muttered, his mind racing as he tried to stay calm.
Gunwook, the youngest after Yujin, shifted anxiously from foot to foot, looking helpless but desperate to do something. “I’ll get the towels,” he mumbled before dashing off toward the kitchen.
Yujin was still kneeling beside Ricky, his hands trembling as he tried to steady Ricky’s head against his shoulder. “Hyung… Please stay awake,” he whispered, his voice cracking with fear.
Taerae crouched beside them, placing a steadying hand on Yujin’s shoulder. “Hey, he’s going to be okay,” Taerae whispered, though his voice was thick with worry. “We’ve got him now.”
Zhang Hao’s eyes flickered with frustration as he looked between Ricky and the others. “ We need to move him to the couch. Can you guys help me ?”
Gyuvin and Jiwoong nodded immediately, each taking one of Ricky’s arms. “We’ve got you, hyung,” Gyuvin whispered as gently as he could, though the tremor in his voice betrayed his fear.
“Lift slowly,” Jiwoong instructed, calm but focused. They carefully hoisted Ricky to his feet, his body sagging between them like a ragdoll. Ricky groaned, his ribs flaring with sharp pain, but he bit down on his lip to keep from crying out.
They carried him over to the couch, laying him down as carefully as possible. Ricky winced as his body settled into the cushions, every inch of him aching, but at least he was off the floor.
Matthew returned with the first aid kit, setting it on the coffee table. “We need to clean the cuts first,” he said, already opening the kit and pulling out antiseptic wipes.
Gunwook followed with towels and ice packs, placing them down within reach. Hanbin grabbed one of the ice packs and wrapped it in a towel before gently pressing it against Ricky’s swollen ribs. “I know it hurts, Ricky. Just hang in there,” Hanbin said softly.
Zhang Hao knelt by Ricky’s side again, carefully wiping the blood from his face. “Ricky,” he said, his voice low and steady, “you’re safe now, okay? Whatever happened, we’ll figure it out. You’re not alone.”
Ricky’s vision blurred, tears prickling in the corners of his eyes. He didn’t want to cry, not here, not in front of them—but the warmth of their concern, the safety of their presence, made it impossible to hold back. His chest hitched with a quiet sob as Zhang Hao’s words finally broke through the fog in his mind.
Yujin, still sitting at Ricky’s side, wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie, clearly trying to hold himself together. “You scared the hell out of me, hyung,” he mumbled, his voice thick with emotion.
Ricky forced a weak, broken smile, his voice a hoarse whisper. “ Sorry… didn’t mean to scare you .”
Gyuvin snorted, though the sound was shaky. “You’re the worst, hyung,” he muttered, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Don’t ever do that again.”
Taerae rested a hand on Ricky’s shoulder, gently squeezing it. “ You’re with us now .”
Jiwoong nodded, his gaze steady and reassuring. “ You’re safe with us, Darling .”
As Ricky lay there, surrounded by his members, the tight knot of fear that had been suffocating him slowly began to loosen. He wasn’t okay—not yet. But he was here with people who cared. And for now, that was enough to keep him breathing.
Days blurred together after the incident, each one a struggle for Ricky to process everything that had happened. His body was battered, his mind clouded with exhaustion, but his members had insisted—no arguments—on taking him to the hospital. Ricky had protested at first, but Zhang Hao’s stern glare left no room for negotiation.
At the hospital, the doctor carefully examined him, prodding at his ribs and cleaning the cuts on his face. To Ricky’s immense relief, the X-rays confirmed that his ribs weren’t broken—just badly bruised. They patched him up as best they could, wrapped his ribs to support the healing process, and gave him medication to help with the pain.
As expected, they asked him that dreaded question: “Do you feel safe?”
Ricky had forced a weak smile, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Yes,” he whispered, though the word felt like ash on his tongue. He knew he wasn’t safe—not really. But he was with his members now, and that would have to be enough.
When they returned to the dorm, Ricky knew he couldn’t keep the truth to himself any longer. The weight of everything—years of abuse, manipulation, and fear—was suffocating him, and he couldn’t carry it alone anymore. So, one evening, he gathered all the members in the living room and sat them down. The room was quiet, tension thick in the air, as Ricky took a deep breath and told them everything.
He started at the beginning: how he had met Hwandae, the grooming, the manipulation, and the abuse that had followed. He told them about the emotional blackmail, the bruises that never quite healed, and the way Hwandae had chipped away at his sense of self until he had felt like nothing. His voice cracked when he described how Hwandae drugged him and took his innocence the moment he turned 18. And then came the hardest part: how he had kept paying for Hwandae’s apartment and tuition, believing that was the only way to keep himself physically safe.
By the time he finished, his throat was raw, his hands shaking as he held them tightly in his lap. The silence in the room was deafening.
Yujin was the first to react. His face twisted in a mix of disbelief and rage. “He did that to you?” Yujin’s voice was small but brimming with anger. His hands balled into fists on his knees, his entire body trembling. “How could he—how could someone…” He trailed off, lost in the enormity of what Ricky had just revealed.
Gyuvin sat beside Yujin, his usual bright expression replaced with cold fury. “I knew he was scum, but this… Ricky, if I ever see that bastard—” He cut himself off, clenching his jaw, his hands visibly shaking.
Zhang Hao leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his brows furrowed in anger and frustration. He didn’t say anything at first, but the sharp look in his eyes spoke volumes. He knew Hwandae. He had known something was wrong but hadn’t realized the extent of it—and that knowledge ate at him.
Matthew, usually composed, ran a hand over his face, struggling to keep his emotions in check. “Ricky,” he said quietly, his voice full of pain and compassion, “I’m so sorry. I wish you didn’t have to go through that. But we’re here now. We’ll help you, okay? No matter what.”
Jiwoong gave Ricky a long, steady look, his calm demeanor hiding the anger simmering beneath. “That bastard doesn’t get to control you anymore,” he said firmly.
Hanbin nodded beside him, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “ We’re not going to let him hurt you again. You have us now, Ricky. Always .”
Gunwook and Taerae stayed silent but bith shifted closer to Ricky and Gunwook placed a hand on his arm in a small but reassuring gesture, as if to say: I’ve got you.
It was overwhelming to have them all respond with so much love and support. Ricky’s chest tightened, but this time, it wasn’t from fear—it was from the unfamiliar feeling of safety.
“I’ve decided…” Ricky began, his voice quiet but resolute. “I’m going to stop paying for his apartment. And his college.” The words felt like pulling a knife from his heart, sharp and liberating all at once. “I shouldn’t have done it in the first place. But I know now that it wasn’t my fault. He… He controlled me. I didn’t know how to stop it.”
Gyuvin grinned though there was still a storm of anger in his eyes. “ Damn right, Kim Ricky. Let him figure out how to pay for his own crap .”
Yujin gave a slight nod, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. “ Good. He doesn’t deserve anything from you .”
Zhang Hao rested a hand on Ricky’s shoulder, his grip firm but gentle. “You did the right thing,” he said, his tone softening just slightly. “You took back control. That’s what matters.”
Ricky exhaled, the weight on his chest lifting—just a little. It was far from over, but it was a start.
When he stopped paying for the apartment and Hwandae was forced to leave, Ricky had made a short trip to said apartment with Zhang Hao and Hanbin. Together, they retrieved Ricky’s things and booked it out of there as quickly as possible.
The road to recovery was slow. Ricky still struggled with the memories, the pain, and the guilt that lingered like shadows on the edges of his mind. Some nights, the nightmares would come, and he’d wake up in a cold sweat, gasping for air. But every time, one of his members would be there—whether it was Zhang Hao sitting silently by his bed, Gyuvin climbing into his bunk to annoy him into smiling, or Yujin clinging to him like a little brother who refused to let go.
It wasn’t easy, and Ricky knew it wouldn’t be for a long time. But now, he had people by his side—people who cared, who fought for him, and who reminded him that he didn’t have to fight alone.
And for the first time in a long while, Ricky allowed himself to believe that he might be okay one day. Not perfect. Not fixed. But okay. And that was enough.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
One evening, Ricky shuffled into the living room, intending to escape the heaviness weighing on his mind by spending time with his members. But as he stepped in, he was met with an unusual sight—everyone was gathered on the couch, their eyes glued to the television screen. No one was talking, and no banter or laughter filled the room. The tension in the air was palpable.
Ricky raised an eyebrow, confused. It wasn’t like them to be this quiet, especially not over the news channel, of all things. “What’s going on?” he asked, moving closer. But before anyone could answer, his eyes landed on the TV screen—and his breath caught in his throat.
There, plastered across the screen, was a familiar face: Hwandae.
Ricky’s heart stuttered violently, and his hands began to shake uncontrollably. A female reporter’s voice filled the room, her tone grim and detached as she recounted the incident.
“E arlier this evening, a man identified as Hwandae Kim was involved in a fatal accident. Witnesses say that Hwandae ran a red light while driving under the influence and crashed into another vehicle at high speed. His car was completely totaled upon impact. The passengers in the other vehicle—a family of three—miraculously survived with only minor injuries, though they are said to be shaken by the incident .”
Ricky felt like the floor beneath him had vanished. His hands gripped the back of the couch to steady himself, his knuckles turning white. His heart pounded in his ears, drowning out most of the reporter’s words. But he heard the only part that mattered.
“H wandae Kim was pronounced dead at the scene .”
Ricky’s mind went blank. The world around him dulled, the voices of his friends fading into a low hum. He’s dead. The man who had stolen years from him—who had beaten him, humiliated him, and haunted his every step—was gone. Just like that.
Relief flickered inside him, small and shameful. It was over. Finally, it was over. Hwandae could never hurt him again. Ricky’s body felt lighter, as though an invisible chain had been severed. The nightmare that had haunted him for so long had ended—but not in the way he had imagined.
He swallowed hard, his throat tight as the emotions churned within him, turbulent and unforgiving. He should feel free. He should feel like the weight had been lifted entirely. But instead, a deep, gnawing anger clawed at his chest.
How dare he?
Ricky’s lips trembled as rage bubbled up from the pit of his stomach. Hwandae’s death felt like an escape—a coward’s way out. He had ruined Ricky’s life, left behind scars that would take years to heal, and now… he was just gone. No apology, no accountability, no justice. He had taken the easy way out, leaving Ricky to pick up the pieces.
“That bastard…” Ricky whispered under his breath, his voice cracking with the weight of his emotions.
Gyuvin, who had been sitting closest to him, glanced up, his expression a mixture of concern and hesitation. “ Ricky… are you okay ?”
Ricky exhaled sharply, shaking his head as if trying to clear the whirlwind in his mind. “No,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I… I don’t know.”
Zhang Hao leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his eyes dark with empathy. “It’s okay to feel whatever you’re feeling,” he said gently. “It’s not going to make sense right away.”
Matthew, seated beside Taerae, gave a small nod. “ You don’t have to figure it out tonight, Ricky. We’re here. Just… let it out if you need to .”
Ricky bit down hard on his lip, trying to swallow the mix of emotions swirling inside him. Relief, anger, confusion, guilt—it was all tangled together in a mess he didn’t know how to unravel.
Yujin shifted uncomfortably beside Gyuvin, his gaze flickering between the TV and Ricky. “I… I hate that he got off so easy,” Yujin mumbled, echoing the thoughts Ricky didn’t know how to express.
Ricky let out a bitter laugh, though it was more of a broken exhale than anything else. “Yeah,” he whispered. “He ruined my life… and then he just dies. No consequences. No apology. Nothing.”
Jiwoong, who had been silent up to this point, spoke softly but firmly. “ He’s gone, Ricky. He can’t hurt you anymore .”
“But the scars are still here,” Ricky muttered, pressing a hand against his head. The bruises from Hwandae’s last attack had begun to fade, but the mental ones would stay for a long time. “He gets to leave, and I’m the one stuck dealing with the mess.”
Gyuvin leaned his shoulder gently against Ricky’s , his expression softening. “ You’re not dealing with it alone, Ricky. We’re with you, okay ?”
Taerae offered a small, reassuring smile. “ It’s not fair. But you survived him, Ricky. You’re still here, and that’s what matters .”
Ricky closed his eyes for a moment, letting the weight of their words settle over him. It didn’t erase the anger or the confusion, but it was something—a reminder that he wasn’t in this fight alone anymore.
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel,” Ricky admitted quietly, his voice cracking under the weight of everything.
Zhang Hao reached out, giving Ricky’s arm a gentle squeeze. “There’s no ‘supposed to,’ Ricky. Just take it one day at a time.”
Ricky opened his eyes and gave a shaky nod. He didn’t know if he’d ever fully make peace with what Hwandae had done to him—or with the fact that the man who had tormented him would never face justice. But he was still standing, surrounded by people who cared.
And for now, that was enough.
╚═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╝
Ricky now knows Hwandae's touches were never feathery, soft, and comforting. Hwandae's touches were always bald, sharp, and disquieting. Ricky now knows that his boyfriend did not love him. He will never wonder when his boyfriend stopped loving him. Hwandae never did.
Notes:
Hello again! Finally, this fic is done!!! So, the ending of this fic is supposed to be underwhelming. I made it this way because, in reality, most abuse victims don't get relief from their abusers. Many never get closure, and many never get help. I'm also sorry that this last chapter is rushed. I just wanted to get it out and over with. I hope this story was enjoyable for those who read it.