Chapter Text
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Namgyu was lying in bed, blasting shitty music through his earbuds to drown out his parents screaming at each other in the next room. He was texting his friend Gyeonsu, who was passionately yapping about some rapper named Thanos.
What a stupid name lol. Apparently, Thanos had a concert coming up in their town.
Gyeonsu: DUDE IM LITERALLY FREAKING OUT OMF OMG WE LIKE SO HABE TO GO
Namgyu: we?
Gyeonsu: YES BRO YOULL LOVE IT
Namgyu: yeah, no
Gyeonsu: CMONNN TICKETS ARE ALREADY BOUGHT
Gyeonsu: IT WILL BE FUNNNNN
Namgyu: bro
Namgyu: thanks for asking if i wanna come?
Namgyu: whatever
Namgyu: when is it
Gyeonsu replied: "thanks for asking if i wanna come?" —
Gyeonsu: yw bro 😘😘😘
Namgyu: 😒
Gyeonsu: IT’S THIS WEEK IM SO EXCITED ILL LITERALLY HAVE A BONER
Gross. Namgyu thought with a grin. Out of all people, he had to choose for a friend a dumbass fanboy of a shitty rapper... I love that dude, he thought, typing back.
Then, a woman’s scream snapped him out of it.
He dropped his phone and ran to his door. Opening it, he saw his dad—drunk as always—with a smashed beer bottle in hand, and his mother on the floor, blood dripping from her head.
He froze.
Then his face twisted into fury.
"What the fuck did you do to her?!" he screamed, rushing to his mom and carefully picking glass shards out of her hair.
"She got what she deserved," his father grunted, staggering toward the couch as if nothing had happened.
Namgyu's blood boiled. He hated his dad. The man was a drunk, a coward, and a monster. Always had been. Namgyu remembered being six years old, hiding in the corner while his father beat his mother. He had watched—frozen—every slap, every drop of blood, every cry. His mother had mouthed, "Don't look," but he couldn’t look away. He just stood there, until it was over.
Later that night, he had locked himself in his room and cried until he couldn’t breathe, scratching his arms until they bled. Like he could scrape the guilt out of his skin.
Now, in the present, Namgyu felt his mother weakly pull at his wrist.
"Don't... please... he'll hurt you too," she whispered.
He hesitated. Then he stood.
Walked toward his father.
And punched him in the back of the head.
"You asshole!" Namgyu screamed, voice shaking.
His father spun around, eyes bloodshot and full of rage. Before he could react, Namgyu landed another punch—right across the cheek. His father let out a pained grunt, stumbling back.
"Don’t ever touch my mom again, you piece of shit!" Namgyu hissed.
But before he could step away, a hand yanked him down.
His father slammed him to the floor, then kicked him—
—and Namgyu woke up, jolting in his classroom seat.
Gyeonsu was gently shaking his shoulder. "Dude, did you even try to sleep last night?"
Namgyu blinked, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "Nah, had to protect the city," he said with a forced smile.
Gyeonsu laughed, then immediately launched into another rant about that stupid rapper again. Namgyu rolled his eyes.
"Are you in love with him or something?" he muttered.
Gyeonsu smacked him lightly on the shoulder. "I'm not gay! He's just my biggest inspiration!"
Yeah, right. Gay as hell, Namgyu thought. Bet the guy’s probably ugly anyway.
He chuckled.
As the day crawled by, a pit formed in his stomach. He didn’t want to go home. Not yet.
It was 11 p.m. when he finally pulled out his phone and leaned against a wall, opening a group chat called dumbasses.
Namgyu: yo
Semi is online
Semi: What
Namgyu: i wanna do something fun
Semi: im busy
Semi: ask the others
Namgyu: with what?
Semi: y do you care?
Semi: junhee came over
Namgyu: tell her to come too
Semi: fuck off
Semi is offline
"Fucking bitch," he muttered.
He tried calling Gyeonsu. No answer.
Great. No one had time for him? Really?
Fine. Last resort.
He called a contact saved as pussy. They picked up immediately.
"Hello?..." Minsu’s voice came through.
"Minsu, you busy?"
"Y-yeah. Why?"
Fuck. Great.
"With what? Come on. I really need someone right now."
"Sorry, man. I'm studying."
"Okay, Minsu. Fuck you then."
He hung up before Minsu could reply.
A single tear slipped down his cheek.
Goddammit.
Does the whole world just want me to rot?
He wiped his face, scrolling numbly through Instagram. Then an ad popped up:
Pentagon Club.
Namgyu stared at it.
He used to go there. A lot. In moments like this, he’d take whatever the world gave him. It was a dark time. But he’d been clean for... what, two months now?
He stared at the ad.
Fuck it.
Relapse is just a step toward recovery, right?
...Right?