#school lunch reform

[spaceshipsandpurpledrank]

#talkin #tik tok #school lunch #free lunch #lunch debt #school lunch reform #i hate this country #education #education reform

[dontmean2bepoliticalbut]

#us politics #twitter #tweet #2023 #rep. summer lee #pro life #pro lifers #pro lifers be like #ar 15 #gun violence #gun control #gun rights #school shootings #free school lunches #impoverished children #universal free school meals #infrastructure reform

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 Part 4

Jungkook wants to create a home for you- not knowing that that's already what he is to you.

Tags/Warnings: Non-Idol Jungkook, Dog Hybrid!Reader, former criminal!Jungkook, mentions of past neglect/abuse, reader has some pretty bad psychological problems (OCD, Anxiety, Selective mutism, hints at an eating disorder), hypersomnia, road to recovery, hurt and lots of comfort, angst, Jungkook has some problems with aggression and swears a lot, more TBA in future chapters

Length: 1.2k Words

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

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Jungkook is wary as he walks into the rather.. unique building, old school reformed into what looks like a daycare for hybrids of different ages it appears like.

Some rooms are furnished, others are clearly meant for younger hybrids, and he even walks past a room that’s only filled with pillows and blankets and stuffed animals of all sizes, flooring entirely made up of mattresses. Overall, this is not what he thought the correctional facility would look like- as the man with the cat eyes approaches him, soft smile on his otherwise rather stoic face. “I’m happy you decided to come by so soon.” He tells him, black cat ears moving a little between his equally dark long hair. “Min Yoongi. I assume this bag is for her?” He asks, and Jungkook nods, still not quite understanding.

This man is a hybrid himself. And yet he’s clearly wearing a staff-badge on his casual clothing.

“I’ll explain some of the structure to you while I’ll let staff look through the things- just for protocol.” He tells him, giving the bag to an elderly woman who takes it, after Yoongi writes your tag number on a plastic card and attaches it to the black sportsbag Jungkook brought with him.

“They’re currently having lunch together.” Yoongi says, as he walks down a hall with Jungkook right behind him. “But she’s not very social- and she seems to be wary of most foods, so she eats by herself with the help of staff.” The cat hybrid hums. “We don’t know much about her, only have her paperwork- but we usually like to paint the picture ourselves.”

“Did she... eat well here?” Jungkook asks, hands in his pockets.

“So-so.” Yoongi admits. “The seperation from you clearly made her shrink back into her shell quite a bit. She refused to come out of a corner in her room for hours after she arrived.” He explains, and Jungkook frowns.

“She likes.. Mild cheeses. Like, the animal shaped kind you can get at the supermarket.” Jungkook mumbles. “And simple stuff. Like chicken soup. Or you know.. Anything I eat, really.”

Yoongi chuckles. “You eat animal shaped cheese?”

“Shut up.” Jungkook snaps a little bashfully, when Yoongi opens a door.

“This is her room. Temporary, of course.” Yoongi explains as they both walk in. “See, here’s how it’s going to go down.” Yoongi offers, sitting down on a chair in one corner of the tiny room, while Jungkook awkwardly stands in front of your bed. “I know who you are, and what you’ve done. Your situation isn’t ideal to say the least.” The worker tells him. “But- I filed in for mutual rehabilitation. And the court agreed.”

“Mutual.. Rehabilitation?” Jungkook repeats, unsure. “What does that mean?”

“Exactly what you think it does.” Yoongi shrugs. “You told the janitor back at the carecenter that you’d take on a job if she was to live with you?”

Jungkook fidgets a little, shrugs, as he looks down at his shoes. “Yeah. Maybe at a grocery store. Night shift, or something. So she’s asleep when I’m gone, and.. Won't miss me or something.” He explains.

“Do you have room for her at your apartment?” Yoongi continues to question.

“She could have my bedroom.” He shrugs again. "I could just sleep on the pull out couch in the living room, no big deal-” He tells the hybrid, who chuckles.

“What about food? Do you know what a hybrid needs?” He wonders, leaning back a little with crossed arms.

“I know that she needs supplements? Like, I looked up some, and there’s like.. Little packets? That you can mix with water and it apparently tastes like fruit or something.” Jungkook explains. “and there’s other stuff you can use in meals that don’t taste like anything.”

“You've done research?” Yoongi smiles. “Even though you were so sure you’d never get to adopt her?”

“I.. Was thinking that maybe a friend of mine could. Instead of me.” He explains, carefully sitting on the very edge of the bed. “And he’s never owned a hybrid before so I wanted to make sure I.. could like, give him advice if needed.”

“Well, it might not be so impossible for you to take her in after all.” The cat hybrid jokes. “I’d say, after you go home today, clean up back there. Get stuff ready. They’ll send someone to check your home in a week or so, just to make sure. It’ll be random. Just so you can’t prepare.” He informs Jungkook, who nods, suddenly determined.

If there’s a chance at getting both his freedom, and you at the same time- then he’ll take it.

“Then, you’ll get three weeks trial.” He explains further. “If there’s no hiccups during that time- meaning she runs off, gets hurt due to negligence, or otherwise has complaints- you'll sign a permanent housing contract.” Yoongi tells him.

“Housing?” He asks, confused.

“We.. Don't like to call it ‘ownership’. A little outdated, don’t you think? She’s not a pet after all. Neither am I.” He jokes, grinning a little.

“...true.” Jungkook mumbles, when a woman is heard laughing.

“Hey, careful, you’re gonna trip sweetheart!” She calls out with a clear smile in her tone, when the door suddenly swings open, revealing you- wide eyed, tail wagging fast, instantly tearing up as you spot Jungkook on the bed.

You can’t help it.

You basically tackle the young man, making everyone laugh at how he desperately attempts to not have you fall off the corner of the bed with him together, though you miserably fail at that, ending up on the floor where you squeeze yourself as closely to him as you can, now on his lap.

“I hope they set out an extra plate?” Yoongi asks the elderly woman who laughs.

“Oh, they did!” She laughs.

And indeed, they did.

Though, technically, they did not need an extra chair, as you’re still sitting on his lap at the lunch table, most hybrids already finished and washing their dishes- some with help, others by themselves. You’re happily eating your soup now that you’ve seen Jungkook eat it too- seemingly taking his actions as a sign that whatever you’re eating right now is safe.

“Are they being nice to you?” Jungkook asks you as you finish your bowl of soup, making you nod, before you press yourself back into him. “Yoongi said I can visit you every day if you want.” He offers, and at that, he can feel your tail wag against his thigh. “Though I gotta get your room ready back at my place.”

You look over your shoulder at him in surprise, and he can’t help but laugh.

“What, did you think you’re gonna stay here?” He asks, and you just shrug. “Nah.” He shakes his head, before he smiles.

“You got somewhere to call ‘home’ soon.”

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #bts jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagines #jungkook imagines #jeon jungkook fanfic #bts jeon jungkook imagine

[arachine]

dc (the psychological thriller/horror type. you know i’m a sucker for horror content) for miguel would be crazy… like man lives as himself on another earth. something feels off about him but he looks & acts just like your miguel. think he would be one of the only spider-people this would be in character for too. he’s definitely darker & more brutal than the rest but also thinks he’s doing the right thing. tell me that isn’t him before he actively tries to reform himself

+ nobody steal this idea bc i wanna write a full fledged fic where reader is his s/o

oh it most definitely is him. but let’s run back that ‘man lives as himself on another earth’ because that’s such a creepy fucking concept.

like can you imagine being the neighbor who runs into him every now and then? your conversations are surface-level, usually genial, in the way that conversations go when you’re in a hurry but still don’t want to seem rude. you usually catch him when he’s heading out the door to drop his daughter off. most mornings, he’s got a cup of coffee in one hand, with a school bad tucked under an arm, while the other hand struggles to juggle his keys and a lunch bag.

gabri’s the first to speak. always bright-eyed and over-enthusiastic, a stark contrast to the man behind her who is obviously not a believer in the phrase: the early bird gets the worm. still, despite his tiredness, he isn’t too good to offer you a kind smile and a small nod of acknowledgement.

“good morning!” she beams, with the same eagerness you’ve come to anticipate everyday. miguel is usually the next to say something, sometimes it’s a simple parrot of his daughter’s “good morning” or a “hello”.

but today? today is different. there’s no greeting, no smile—not even a nod of acknowledgement. his walk is different too, straight-backed and stiff, and the bags under his eyes have all but disappeared (not that you’ve committed them to memory or anything).

“good morning,” you say first. experimenting. waiting. he stops mid-footfall and turns to look at you, but it’s strange — his face. there’s an uncertainty on it, like he’s confused by your greeting.

“oh, hi.” curt. you poke again, curious.

“hey, wait!” you close your door, running down the steps and across the grass to catch him. “i made a bunch of these last night,” you hold up a container of cookies, “maybe gabri can take ‘em to school and share with the class?”

his eyes linger on the box in your hands for a few seconds before they flit to your face. again, that hesitance, uncertainty. then, he reaches a hand out to grab them.

“alert. impending threat,” his watch announces.

“wha—“

miguel retracts his arm possessively, knocking down the box of cookies in his wake. he looks at you once, and it’s startling, amber eyes ablaze with specks of golden ire.

without saying another word, he resumes his trek to the car and drives away. when you bend down to pick up the cookies, there’s a stray wisp of silver webbing hanging from the side of the container.

whoever that was, it definitely wasn’t miguel o’hara.

#made us the neighbor #bc yolo #miguel o’hara x reader #atsv x reader #miguel o’hara

[this-witch-writes]

It's endlessly fascinating to me that Robin in s3 is so convinced of Steve's douchery but her only examples are that he didn't talk to her (a girl in a different grade with no friends or activities in common who never spoke to him) and the fact he ate bagels in a way that annoyed her.

This isn't a criticism of Robin as a character (its super on brand for her) but it does raise far more questions about Steve’s high school actions and character than it answered. This was an outsider to the main narrative giving a perspective on Steve and so it surely should set the tone for the bully he has been working on reforming himself from, right? That’s his character arc… right?

Then why instead a story where Steve caused anyone harm is this a story about Steve minding his own business while a girl he’s never spoken to, who he shared one class ever with, blames him for the fact her straight crush isn’t interested in her? There are a million ways to demonstrate that Steve was privileged or self-centred or dismissive but this story didn’t really do that.

Which means that we’ve never really SEEN this version of Steve that apparently his ENTIRE CHARACTER ARC is about him growing away from. It’s just mentioned in passing.

I know what you’re thinking, “what about season one!?” But what did we see in season one? Steve has like two friends apparently? Maybe three if we count that Nicole girl who appeared for two seconds. His lunch table seems more gossipy than aggressive until the interactions with Jonathan, which started off as mostly Tommy until Jonathan took deeply creepy pictures in Steve’s bedroom window and he had a pretty normal reaction to that.

The worst of Steve that we see if while he think Nancy is cheating on him with Jonathan and he allows Tommy and Carol to talk him into the cinema thing and then provokes Jonathan into the fight in the alley. But this is a really specific set of events that it is unlikely has ever happened like that before. Also Steve doesn’t bring a gang of guys to jump Jonathan, he talks shit until Jonathan swings first and only with an audience of Tommy. Within like an hour of the fight, Steve already regrets it and goes over to a guy he doesn’t like, who just beat the shit out of him’s house to apologise.

So season 1 Steve is selfish, gossipy and shallow – sure. We see his obsession with being like and seeming normal (the thing he is least able to shake in future seasons) but we don’t see him antagonistic towards anyone. If his terrible past as high school asshole / bully was going to be central to his character arc… shouldn’t we see it somewhere?

#stranger things meta #characterisation #steve harrington #robin buckley #stranger things

[a-little-unsteddie]

…i got bored so i used this word generator to generate 5 random words to write something small for, and then thought it would make a fun game. so. here i am.

rules:

- generate 5 random words using this generator and then write something using those words!

- tag 5 (or however many you want) mutuals to challenge!

- if you don’t like the five words you got, reroll them. this is meant to be a fun little challenge, not something to stress over. have fun!

— my words: construct, hundredfold, reformation, clamor, sunshine —

Steve had been ready to go home since he had gotten to school that morning. After everything with the Halloween party and then Billy and the tunnels, Steve was exhausted and on the verge of a breakdown. Seeing Nancy walking into the school holding hands with Jonathan made the feeling multiply by a hundredfold, so he did his best to stay focused on classes.

Lunch came as a relief, but only temporarily. Steve didn’t particularly have anyone to sit with; he was not about to sit with his recent ex-girlfriend and her current boyfriend, nor was he going to sit with his ex-friends, not that he’d be welcome there anyway. Maybe if he took back all the reformation he’d been trying to do, but Steve couldn’t go back to being ‘King Steve’, not when there were monsters lurking around beneath their feet.

Once Steve got his tray of food, he stared at the students sitting at every table and immediately decided fuck that and turned to leave. He heard a clamor behind him, but resolutely did not turn back to see what it was and continued walking out the doors. He made his way to the library, vaguely aware that someone was following him, and figured it was Nancy. Or worse, Jonathan.

“You can go back to the cafeteria,” Steve said without looking back. He could see the library doors at the end of the hallway, and focused on putting one foot in front of the other. “I’ll sit with you at some point, I just can’t today, okay?” He said, his heart beating out of his chest. He thought that was fair enough, and if either of them argued, Steve wasn’t sure he’d be able to hold back the breakdown.

“Well,” a voice, decidedly not Nancy or Jonathan, spoke, “color me surprised,” Eddie continued, as Steve stopped and stared resolutely in front of him. “King Steve is gonna grace my table with his presence?”

Steve stiffened and closed his eyes, letting out a deep breath. He wasn’t sure why this was the last straw, of all things, but it was, and tears were threatening to fall down his face. He trembled as he held the tray and glared at it, as if it would stop the rattling.

“Sorry,” Steve said, trying with his entire being to keep his voice even, “thought you were someone else.” He finished lamely, swallowing thickly. Of course Nancy nor Jonathan would come after him, why would they? Steve barely refrained from letting out a pathetic whine, knowing that if he did, Eddie would pounce on the weakness immediately. He took a deep, measured breath, and tried not to cry.

“Oh?” Eddie said, walking around Steve to be in front of him. “Expecting someone else to come chasing after you?” He asked, although the tone didn’t quite match the words he was saying, genuine curiosity covering any derision that Steve figured was meant to come out.

“I guess,” Steve said, looking away from Eddie. His gaze snapped back to Eddie when he felt a hand on his face and he jolted away from him, but before he could exclaim what the fuck, Steve realized that his cheeks were wet. Oh. He’d been crying already.

Eddie observed him for a moment, before seeming to come to a conclusion with a decisive nod. “I know a place that’s away from,” he gestured around them, “all of this. I could show you.”

Steve furrowed his eyebrows and looked back at him. “Why would you do that?”

Eddie looked at him gently, which wasn’t that something? To be looked at with such gentleness, it made Steve’s heart hurt. “You need to get away, and I know that Wheeler and Byers are about to come looking for you.”

Steve sniffed, feeling tears drip off his chin. He didn’t even realize when he started crying, didn’t understand why he couldn’t seem to stop. He nodded after a second, and Eddie lit up with a brilliant smile.

“Follow me, my liege,” Eddie said, bowing dramatically before hopping up and leading Steve through the school, then outside and through the football field and eventually through the woods and into a small clearing where there was a lone picnic table.

Steve recalled that Tommy used to bitch about having to go through the woods to get a deal, because Eddie only ever dealt to him there and would refuse to otherwise.

“I figured you could use some sunshine,” Eddie said as he plopped down on the bench, grinning shyly up at Steve, who huffed a soft laugh and smiled at him. Somewhere between leaving the school and getting to the bench, Steve had finally stopped crying. He sat across from Eddie, putting his tray down on the table.

“Did you get a chance to eat?” Steve asked, noticing that Eddie hadn’t brought his tray with him.

Eddie crooked a smile, “I finished before you even got into the cafeteria,” he assured. Still, Steve wasn’t quite sure if he believed Eddie, so offered him part of his.

“I’m not gonna eat the full thing anyway,” Steve reasoned, smiling at Eddie hopefully, who looked surprised that Steve was offering. Steve watched as a smile relaxed Eddie’s features, which caused his heart to beat hard against his chest as Steve realized that Eddie was actually…really pretty.

“You know,” Eddie started, grabbing half of the food from the plate, “you’re not who I thought you’d be.”

Steve scrunched his nose up, “I’m trying not to be who everyone thinks I am,” he admitted softly.

“Way to beat the societal construct set out for you,” Eddie said, grinning softly. “Do you wanna talk about it?” He asked, tilting his head to the side. Steve huffed quietly, looking down at the food on the tray.

“Not particularly. Tell me about uhh,” Steve blanked on the name of the nerd game that the gremlins played, “the game, um..” Steve stared blankly at the top of the picnic table, “Oh! Dragons and.. whatever. The dragon game.” Steve looked up at Eddie.

Eddie lit up, “How do you know what that is? Whatever—it doesn’t matter! I can definitely tell you about our campaign,” he started talking about it at a million miles per hour.

“Slow down,” Steve laughed, smiling brightly, feeling lighter than he had in a long time. “I want to understand.”

Eddie looked immensely fond before nodding and starting from the beginning. They spent several hours out there, not bothering to go back to classes, and Steve learned a lot about D&D, that he would never let the kids know. By the end, Steve was glad that Eddie had followed him out of the cafeteria, and had even offered him a place at their table. He would have to face Nancy and Jonathan at some point, but at least he’d have Eddie supporting him.

no pressure tags: @sailing-through-hawkins @hammity-hammer @apomaro-mellow @cuips-not-cute @i-less-than-three-you

#i hope others have as much fun with this as i did #djdhshsah #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things #steve harrington x eddie munson #st #unsteddie writing

[finn0la]

part 1 of a one piece modern high school AU i've had in my brain for a while, not-so-subtly based on my own friends + experiences! more info and transcriptions of the image text (as well as an extra doodle i did) under the cut :^)

extra notes

>most of the characters in this au are high school seniors, barring a few exceptions (chopper is a junior, for instance). >because this is directly mirrored from my own experience and i'm usamerican, there are 8 periods in their school day, with the first starting at 7:50 am and the last ending at 2:40 pm. >the east blue gang met in middle school, and the rest of the SHs came into play either the summer before freshman year or during it. most of the other crews also became friends in middle school. >overall the school is fairly large, with something like 2.5k students, but it's also pretty broke whenever it doesn't have grant money (which is often).

image text transcriptions

MONKEY D. LUFFY ->17, senior, he/him *knows hats are against dress code, doesn't care *ALWAYS late to school, at this point teachers have given up *lost his ID day one *likes the school lunch. *wanders into random classrooms to visit ppl *doesn't use a folder, so his backpack is an absolute NIGHTMARE

RORONOA ZORO (...ft. sanji) ->18, senior, he/him *sleeps seven hours a night and yet still naps in class every. single. day. *was in ROTC freshman year and has never lived it down! *somehow got three gym classes in his schedule? *can't pick a sport, so he plays them all lol *somehow still gets lost in the hallways?? USOPP ->17, senior, he/him *no, he is not taking commissions! *is actually allergic to a lot of things, including the cold and dust *first chair flute in symphonic band *taking mostly art classes, but also drafting and metals! NAMI (...ft. sanji again!) ->17, senior, she/her *head of the school GSA, and an officer in NHS *reformed VSCO girl, still uses a kanken backpack though! *has straight A's, duh *works as a tutor after school *real bff is usopp but she keeps sanji around to carry her bags (...but she does still love all the SHs and routinely gets them out of trouble)

bonus:

#one piece #one piece modern au #monkey d. luffy #roronoa zoro #usopp #nami #vinsmoke sanji #trafalgar law #one piece fanart #op fanart #one piece au #my art! #okay basic tags out of the way. before i start doing all the repetitive ones #i am already working on a part 2!! and am also open to asks or requests about the au so feel free to share any you might have <3 #one piece luffy #mugiwara no luffy #straw hat luffy #luffy #one piece zoro #zoro #one piece usopp #usopp op #nami op #one piece nami #black leg sanji #sanji #one piece law #i feel bad tagging them TOO much because they mostly only cameo here #but expect them to get actual intros soon !! #also: i finally got a chance to use the alt text tool!! if my descriptions are missing anything/have any issues please let me know!

[underforeversgrace]

am i dead or alive? (it's such a fine line)

title: am i dead or alive? (it's such a fine line)

words: 2,755

summary: Danny wakes up screaming from a nightmare - a memory he thought he'd long gotten over. When his dad comes running him to check on him, old fears and doubts resurface, and Danny decides that, since he's already told his parents about Phantom, maybe it's time to stop hiding other things, too.

Warnings: None

AU: None/Danny has already told his parents he's Phantom before the story starts

Beta by: @probably-dead

AO3

“Oh dear! What a mess! Are you okay?” She asked, sounding and looking every bit like a concerned grandmother as Danny rolled his shoulder, feeling an ache that his adrenaline fueled mind acknowledged as being a broken left arm.

“Yeah, I think so,” he found himself saying, oddly outside of himself and refusing to truly realize he’d just gotten majorly injured in a ghost fight.

Suddenly the Lunch Lady’s face broke into a snarl, anger and hatred radiating off of her. “Tough! Because you being okay is not part of my balanced diet of doom!”

And then the fight was back on, five minions made of meat surrounding him as they all launched into the air. The pain fell away as he went on the offensive, cleanly slicing through all five of them. Some part of him, some human part, kept telling him how wrong everything was, how he should feel his heart slamming against his chest in fear, should hear the rush of blood in his ears as adrenaline forced all of his senses into overdrive.

But Danny sensed none of that and the internal silence of his stopped heart was now nearly deafening.

The five blobs reformed rapidly. Danny took in a deep breath that he refused to accept he didn’t need as he firmly planted his feet into the ground, dropping into a fighting stance.

Warmth exploded around his body as his heart resumed, straining and panicking within his chest, as he lost his ghost form. Nausea stirred in his stomach as disorientation tried to force him to his knees, his senses roughly shifted from ghost to human and simultaneously overwhelming and underwhelming him.

Then the slimy, greasy beings wrapped themselves around him, lifting him into the air as he tried to fight them. In a matter of seconds, he was being held upside down, hundreds of feet in the air and he was forced to stop struggling - he’d die if he fell from this height. 

He was already dead.

Then the hands holding him let go and he was freefalling, screaming as the ground rapidly approached. “Change back!” He pleaded aloud to whatever god would listen to a thing like him, whatever god had already abandoned him when he walked into that portal.

But the ground just grew closer, the little ball of cold in his chest unresponsive, drained of energy. He saw the meat ghost’s smile, twisted into a sadistic grin of victory.

And then the ground was right there, it was right on front of him, his face centimeters away and -

Danny screamed, bolting upright in his bed as sweat rolled down his body. He felt warm tears forming in his eyes, breaking free to slide down his cheeks. He shuddered slightly, pulling his legs to his chest and dropping his head onto his knees as he tried to slow his breathing. He’d thought he was done with that particular nightmare!

“Danny?” His father demanded, slamming open the door to his bedroom and causing Danny to flinch. “What’s wrong? Is it a ghost?”

A lie immediately came to Danny’s tongue but he bit it down. He’d told his parents the truth last month, but the reaction to lie was still the first he had whenever they mentioned ghosts.

Danny lifted his head up, studying his father for a moment. Mom and Jazz weren’t home tonight, on the way to Jazz’s new college - the semester was starting soon and it was time for move in. That had actually been the catalyst for Danny confessing - it was time for Jazz to go to school and she was refusing to leave until she knew Danny told them and was safe here. It’d been a low move - holding her own education over his head - but it had been effective. Danny had enough shame in his life, he wouldn’t keep his sister from going to school.

“Kinda,” he finally admitted, “but there aren’t any here right now.”

Jack crossed the space to Danny’s bed in a few quick paces, sitting down on the foot of the bed. Again, Danny flinched at his father’s rapid approach, a spike of panic up his spine. Jack apparently didn’t miss the reaction, looking at Danny in regret, even as he scooted a little further away to give Danny more space.

“Talk to me, Danny,” Jack asked, almost pleading.

Danny wrapped his arms around his legs, pulling them tighter against him.

His parents had taken the news… not well, but their horrified reactions had been about themselves, not him, like he knew they would be - like he’d seen during Controlfreak’s stunt with the Reality Gauntlet. But they hadn’t really talked - his parents too afraid of pushing Danny away, and Danny still just afraid of them.

“I had a nightmare,” he eventually said.

“What about, son?”

He hesitated. Was this really where he wanted to finally start this conversation? A fight he’d nearly lost and the doubt and pain he’d endured in silence after? Things he’d never even told Sam and Tucker? He glanced at the clock - it was nearly three in the morning. He looked again at his father, the worry and concern in his eyes, in every line of his body.

Yeah. It was time to talk. It was time to let his parents - or at least one of them - in the rest of the way, to all the things his secret contained below the surface.

“The first real ghost fight I had. It… it didn’t go well.”

Jack's face morphed into shock, Danny had been tight lipped about everything he’d done, but it settled back into worry. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Danny took a deep breath. “Are you ready to hear it? It isn’t… it isn’t good, Dad. Some of it… it might upset you. It involves you.”

His father bit his lip but nodded. It was an open secret they refused to acknowledge - the fact that Danny’s own parents had fueled his fears and his nightmares.

“Her name was the Lunch Lady,” Danny started, setting his chin on his knees. “It was a month after I got my powers. I couldn’t even do an ectoblast yet, had never seen one before. Flight, invisibility, intangibility - that was all I knew how to do. It was all I��d ever seen from the other ghosts I’d faced - wimpy, low level ones, none even humanoid. She was… she was trying to kill Sam because Sam had caused the school to change the menu. She was the strongest ghost I’d ever come across at that point - the only human one, the only one who could talk to me. When we first saw her, she just looked like a lost grandmother and I…” Danny paused to take a deep breath.

“Anyway, she was wicked strong. I… I nearly died again.” Danny ignored the way his father seemed to recoil at that sentence. “She’s about as strong as the Box Ghost. They’re actually married and have a kid now. But that’s how weak I was back then. I was exhausted. I was in the middle of a fight with her and was too tired to keep up being Phantom - it took a lot of energy back then - so I morphed back to human. And back then, my human side and my ghost side didn’t mix as well, I didn’t have my strength.”

“Can I come closer?” Jack asked abruptly.

Trust him, his mind decided and he scooted over to the side of the bed, patting the open spot beside him. Relief flooded his father’s face and he moved so he was sitting behind Danny.

Danny leaned against his father’s side instinctively, comfortable. He wrapped an arm around Danny’s shoulders and tension faded from Danny.

“I was human when she had her minions grab me,” Danny continued. “They grabbed me and flew me up and I was helpless. That’s what the nightmare was about. It was the first time I came close to losing a fight. What happened after that was you tossing the Thermos and it slapping me in the face and then the minions let go of me. I managed to get back to Phantom in time and the Thermos made quick work of all of them, but… the nightmare plays out a little differently.”

“Did you know I’m scared of flying on planes?” Jack asked.

“Huh?” Danny responded, pulled out of the memory that had started to constrict him again.

“I was flying on one when I was around ten, on vacation, when we hit some really bad turbulence halfway through the flight,” he explained. “At the time, I didn’t know that was normal. We were fine, of course, but for years afterwards, I had nightmares about the plane crashing, even though it wasn’t what happened. It’s one reason I built the Fenton Jet - I trust my own inventions more. But nightmares don’t care about reality, do they?”

Danny smiled slightly. He sometimes forgot his father was an intelligent man, just hidden under a lot of layers of fudge and goofiness. “No, they don’t. In the dream they take me higher, I fall further, and I can’t transform back.”

“And you still chose to help, even when the ghosts got stronger?”

Danny nodded. “I had the ability to, I could keep up with them better, and…” he trailed off, unsure about proceeding. The nightmare, the memory, was only half of it.

“And?” Jack prompted.

“And… I was afraid.”

“You helped because you were afraid?”

Suddenly feeling suffocated, Danny slid out from under his father’s arms, getting off the bed and beginning to pace. He could feel Jack’s eyes following him as he did so. “You and mom always said ghosts were evil, they couldn’t feel, they couldn’t remember or understand humanity. Until Lunch Lady, I could convince myself you two were wrong. The ones before her - they didn’t count, they were just wild animals. But she… she wanted to kill Sam for something so simple. I didn’t understand Obsessions at the time, I didn’t know that what she was going through made her feel like her core was cracking in two. As far as I could tell, she was just pure evil for the sake of being evil.”

He couldn’t help it as he began to cry, as the feelings he’d smothered back then reared up their ugly heads, fears about himself he’d come to terms with but which still frightened him sometimes. “If you were right, when would I lose myself? When would I become evil, hurt people because hurting them was fun? I’d half died, but was Danny, was my humanity, going to die more?” Tears made his vision blur and he stopped pacing, pressing his back against the wall and sliding to the floor. “I didn’t want to die. I didn’t want to hurt people. But I was so afraid that I was only delaying the inevitable. That I was going to lose my mind and eventually someone would do something so, so minor and I’d decide killing was the right option.”

“Danny…” he said, sounding more lost than Danny had ever heard.

“So I kept fighting. Hoped whatever evil my ghost had given me could be distracted by the violence, would let me channel the desire to kill - that I knew would eventually consume me - into only hurting ghosts.” Danny looked up, making eye contact with his father and saw he was crying too. “I learned every weakness I could. I made lists. Anything and everything someone would need to kill a ghost. I kept notes… and I printed them out for you two to find if I ever went rogue. The secrets to killing me, left somewhere you would find if Fenton ever went missing, with the implication I thought Phantom might hurt me.”

Jack paled and his eyes went wide. “You set it up so we’d think Phantom hurt our son. And then left the information we’d need… to kill you - Phantom you - for killing Fenton you?”

Danny forced himself to nod. “All without ever knowing it was me to begin with.”

“Son…” Jack said, standing and moving over to Danny, squatting in front of him. “I am so sorry.”

Danny shrugged. “I eventually met good ghosts. That’s when I began trying to make it obvious to you that I was good, that I wasn’t bad. I know now there are more good ghosts than bad, but I didn’t know that back then.”

“And now you trust yourself to know you’d never do anything bad? That you have control over what you do?”

“I believe I have control over what I do.” Danny half-answered, glancing at his bedside table.

Jack followed his gaze, apparently realizing what Danny was purposefully not saying, even though he hadn’t been told about Dan yet. He straightened up and crossed the distance to the table while Danny watched silently. Fear crept into Danny’s soul, wondering if he’d misjudged his father as he pulled out a folder from the drawer.

The folder with the secrets of how to end him and any other ghost, how to shatter and destroy a core, specifically cores of ice - information he hadn’t learned until long after the Lunch Lady incident.

He flipped the folder open, shuffling through the pages, panic evident in his eyes as he looked through all the different ways Danny had figured out his parents could kill him, and the instructions he’d left on how to do so.

Information he’d left access to even after telling them the truth with the hope they’d be able to get rid of him if he snapped.

Quicker than Danny realized his father could move, he was kneeling beside him, shoving the folder into Danny’s lap. “Burn these. Now.”

“What?” Danny asked, surprised.

“You are my son, Danny. You are good, always have been and always will be. I will not let you think any differently and I will not tolerate you making notes on how to commit suicide.”

“Dad! It’s not suicide!”

“Are these notes not about different ways to make you dead?”

“It’s… it’s different…” Danny protested but Jack was already shaking his head and Danny knew he’d already lost this argument.

“Daniel Jackson Fenton, you are going to listen to me and you are going to do what I say. You are going to morph into Danny Phantom - my son - and you are going to burn these to ash, now. Do you understand me?”

Danny looked at the folder in his lap and triggered his transformation. Despite the fact he hadn’t shown his parents the morph many times, his father didn’t flinch at all at the bright flash. He stood, still not tearing his eyes away from the folder. “Are you sure?” He asked. “We can’t guarantee I won’t -“

“I know about Dan,” Jack cut him off. “Jazz told us. She said she’d never tell us any of your other secrets, those were up to you, but she knew how much Dan scared you and wanted us to know.”

“What?” Danny squeaked. He cleared his throat. “Then you know why this may be needed!”

“Danny, I promise, you will never become that. Jazz said Dan was a fusion of you and an evil ghost. Just because he kept your name and face, doesn’t make him you! You are good, okay? Besides,” he said, gently placing his hands onto Danny’s shoulders and lowering himself to be eye level, his blue eyes boring into Danny’s electric green ones. “Don’t ask me to kill you, Danny. Please… don’t ask me to kill you,” he pleaded, his voice breaking as he began to cry too.

Danny’s heart broke at his father's sobs and he knew he couldn’t deny him. “Okay,” Danny said, stepping away and setting the papers on fire with ecto energy. He watched as months and years of work disintegrated into ash. Worry and doubt were parasites gnawing his stomach - what if Dan’s evil wasn’t all Vlad? What if Danny himself had that evil within him? - but as his father pulled him into a tight, bone crushing hug, he did his best to let those fears wisp away, too.

He’d start work on another, different kind of list another time - one specialized to restraining him, reducing his powers - because he didn’t think he would ever be fully able to trust himself and he needed the people he loved to be able to fight him back.

For now, though, he was content to just hug his dad as the both of them cried.

#danny phantom #grace writes #danny fenton #jack fenton

[koreanbibliophilegirl]

Do you perhaps want to info dump about your DSMP superpower AU?

Totally not asking to procrastinate on literally writing my own. Nah. I don’t even know what procrastination is.

SKLFDJSJHDJFLH INFODUMPING ABOUT MY AU? ALWAYS. I'M SO GLAD YOU ASKED.

Okay so! Where should I start? *rubs hands like that one evil toddler cousin on Christmas*

The background setting!

So the fic already has a name, but I'm keeping it AND the MC secret as a lil surprise for when the fic is eventually published. All I will say about it is, it's not Tommy. *gasp*

Tommy does appear though, so I'll start there to avoid detection I think.

He works at the bakery(yes, it's owned by Niki Nihachu), which is right around the corner from the hero headquarters. So heroes are always stopping by for baked goods, especially since Niki's girlfriend, Puffy, has a son who's one of the top heroes, and he told all his friends about how good the bakery is.

And, of course, true to all the clichés, Tommy and his two roommates work as vigilantes. They don't work only at night, though. They work at lunchtime as well, since they all get an hour of lunch break & a lot of villains are out and about around that time. Counterintuitive, but then again, there are a lot of people in the streets to nab as hostages, and some villains actively seek out heroes to fight anyway. Like Redrum, known as the sharp-clawed, since he's apparently a catshifter (or general shapeshifter, who knows) who goes around stabbing heroes.

Tubbo works at the mechanics, his boss is retired hero/hero trainer Sam Dude(known as Warden during his time)! Sam retired among controversy though, because of issues surrounding the Hero HQ's former resident healer/ex-licensed hero, Lemon Balm. Tubbo couldn't care less though, Sam's nice and lets him take spare parts home for inventing(read: making vigilante gadgets).

Ranboo helps out at the local library, with Technoblade(last name unknown) as his boss! They're also the first out of the vigilante team Bench Trio to find out that Techno is the Blood God, one of the most popular vigilantes currently active, and one half of the elusive Emerald Duo.

Phil runs a bird shelter, and when he's out as the Angel of Death, he sometimes lets the crows from the shelter follow him around!

Kristin is a hero-turned-vigilante, formerly Miss Trixtin, currently the Goddess of Death. She's a bit busy with her day job atm though so she's taking a bit of a break from her vigilante job.

Wilbur is their son who left home after an argument about vigilantism not helping reform the corrupt hero system. He's a villain called Silver Tongue now. He keeps stealing important stuff from the Hero HQ with Fundy. He gets pretty close with Tommy after regularly visiting his (adoptive) son's workplace :D

Bench Trio's vigilante names are Aerie(Tommy- telekinesis + singing to plants to make them grow), Bee Bomb(Tubbo- honey colored explosive energy balls & metal manipulation), and Endgame(Ranboo- teleportation & compression, plus they can bite through anything)!

(Double powers are uncommon but not too rare, triple powers are EXTREMELY rare.)

Tommy's bakery coworkers are Fundy Soot(villain- helps his adoptive father, Wilbur, on his little outings. Ability to go unnoticed by everyone and anyone. It works on technology as well. He's also a general shapeshifter in theory, but he can't transform into animals bigger than a fox.), Badboy Halo(civillian- he can make red vines grow out of the ground! This saved Skeppy's butt once, cuz they used to live in the same neighborhood & went to the same schools, and one time Skeppy fell off the flagpole of the middle school. Bad's vines caught him midair.), and later on Ant Frost(🤫).

Niki herself is actually a former hero who resigned, she got too much hate about her power(copying others' powers for a short while). Puffy, who was her partner, retired a few years later, since she'd decided to adopt the orphan boy who had applied for the hero training program, and she'd need more money than she was making as a hero who had lost most of her popularity. She became a therapist, and fully supported her new son Foolish throughout his hero training!

Puffy and Niki never really talked about their relationship, but since Puffy's power is reading minds & emotions, and Niki can copy her power, they didn't have to. One day they just started telling people they were taken, and that was that.

Foolish is a popular hero who can call up storms & has the additional power of building anything in the blink of an eye! His partner(both work AND romantic) is Eret, who can control people's actions if they catch sight of her glowing white eyes. Their hero names are the Golden Shark and Monarch respectively.

Tina is also a hero, she graduated the hero training program with Foolish, but her powers(always landing on her feet when she falls, enhanced senses including night vision, and stealth) coincide too much with the top hero, Dream(can't get hurt from falling, slowing down time to give himself time to think, some enhanced agility), and she didn't get very popular. This will soon change though, Tina is the GOAT and everyone will know it.

Speaking of Tina, Hannah Rose the retired hero! She runs a flower shop! She retired after one of her wings was ripped during a fight, the physical therapy took a while and her popularity dropped like a stone. She realized how unfair the hero system was to unpopular heroes and decided to retire. Her wings still haven't recovered, her flight balance is too off for her to even consider flying more than a few feet off the ground, and more than a few seconds.

Las Nevadas! Quackity! He's one of the rare triple powered people! Golden duck wings, can manipulate card-shaped objects(a form of telekinesis), and has the ability to control odds(only if he's aware of all the variables though. It won't work very well if there are unknown factors).

Charlie! May be an elder god, may be the devil, who knows! He can turn into green slime, create green slime(with various properties), and additionally, knows everything about everyone. Nobody actually knows if this is a power or not, but it's certainly terrifying paired with his cheerful, optimistic personality.

Purpled! His skin is basically invincible, fireproof, acidproof, poisonproof, you name it. He also has perfect aim, which is very handy since he's an assassin. His sibling Punz is also an assassin, but they has flight trajectory manipulation and his eyes can zoom in on anything.

Skeppy. He's not part of the mafia, but he might as well be becuase he's literally always there. Nobody knows how he does it. But. He. Is. Always. There. He can summon diamonds though so nobody's complaining😊 lol

(But seriously, he's also fun to hang out with and plan pranks with. The mafia world is full of people who want something from you/have ulterior motives, and it's nice to hang out with someone who doesn't want anything from you other than keeping him company and talking with him.)

Sam, Foolish and Punz are friends! Sam suspects Punz is mafia but keeps quiet about it(he isn't about to make the same mistake as last time), Foolish is oblivious. Punz loves his homies, but is stressed bc Foolish has a v strict moral code and would not be happy if he finds out Punz is mafia.

Uhhh who have I not talked about, KARLNAP. Sapnap was a vigilante(he failed the training program interview) who quickly got recruited by the heroes, Karl was the same but a while later! Sapnap got patrols with Dream and GeorgeNotFound(all three go by their actual names as heroes, though Sapnap's vigilante name was Flame) and immediately gained a huge following(besides his fans from his vigilante days), but Karl(a.k.a. Timekeeper) wasn't that well-known even as a vigilante. He didn't give up though, and trained extremely hard every day. Then one day Sapnap saw him in the training area and got an instant crush. They talked, Sapnap began asking to be paired with Karl for duo patrols, they started dating, and now they're both famous & known as the ultimate power couple :3

Hmm, it feels kinda anticlimactic to end like this, so have a codename compilation!

Tommy- Aerie(place to rest suspended in the air. Tommy can float things in the air so I thought the name fit.)

Tubbo- Bee Bomb(Bee Bombs are wildflower seed balls that you leave out in the garden/in pots to grow wildflowers. I thought Tubbo would like the name, since his energy balls are supposed to smell sweet like wildflower honey.)

Ranboo- Endgame(They're so overpowered with their teleportation and compression that Tommy and Tubbo insisted his appearance alone would signal the beginning of the endgame. Nicknamed Ender.)

Technoblade- the Blood God(obviously.)

Philza- the Angel of Death(also obviously.)

Wilbur- Silver Tongue(for his silver tongue.)

Fundy- either Nonexistent or Ghost, haven't really decided yet

Kristin- (formerly) Miss Trixtin, (currently) the Goddess of Death

Foolish- the Golden Shark

Tina- Carrot Cat

Eret- Monarch

Niki- (formerly) Copycat

Puffy- (formerly) Captain Puffy

Karl- Timekeeper

(Mafia Codename explanation here)

Quackity- Rey Club, King of Clubs

Purpled- Tyrian Spade

Punz- Lapis Lazuli Spade, Ace of Spades

Hannah- (formerly) Faerie, (currently) Bitterbriar Diamond

Skeppy- Adamant Heart(since he's always there anyway, they just gave him a codename.)

Charlie- Dresden Diamond, Jack of Diamonds

Ponk- Lemon Balm/Sorrento Heart(they still go by Lemon Balm as a vigilante)

Ant- Redrum

Eryn- Demon

Aimsey- Daisy(star and Eryn are villains who want to reform society as a whole by blowing up buildings. Only when they're empty tho cuz Aimsey doesn't want to kill ppl)

Velvet: Red Flag

Welp, that's all for now! If there's anything else you'd like to know, please feel free to ask further! I really enjoyed answering this, thank you so much for the ask! 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

-Lilly xx

(P. S. Almost forgot; HBomb is the owner & sole employee of a cat café with a maid event on Saturdays.)

#Lilly's dsmp superpower au #tommyinnit #technoblade #philza #wilbur soot #tubbo #purpled #tinakitten #ranboo #dream smp #dsmp #hannahxxrose #foolish gamers #eret #antfrost #quackity #skeppy #badboyhalo #bbh #ehh I'm too lazy to tag everyone #Lilly gets an ask #(just read it over and WOW this is long. This is what word vomit means ig haha)

[boymeetsworldconfessions]

ABOUT:

Corinna is an extremely cheerful girl who plays excruciatingly sweet and perky music. Because she was playing in front of the wilderness store and scaring customers away, Eric took her out to lunch with the intent of asking her to stop. However, she mistook his act as a romantic gesture.

Francis Albert "Frankie" Stechino (aka Frankie the Enforcer) is a very large and strong kid at John Adams High. Harley Keiner, the local bully, took advantage of his strength to turn him into his head flunky, alongside Joey the Rat. When Harley got sent to reform school, Frankie revealed his gentle side and became friends with Cory and Shawn. 

#boy meets world #boy meets world character bracket #corinna #frankie stechino #polls

[valeffelees]

hi hi hi can you tell me more about the fairy simon au please also your baz is so pretty i love him so much

hOLY SHIT thank you—both for coming here to let me talk about this silly AU and for the compliment, drawing Baz is good for my mental health, honestly. he is just... so lovely. 😭💞

about Bazza in the AU: the story (kinda) takes place post-Watford for Baz, so he's in his early 20s; he's an art student, he's a magician, and he is still a vampire, but, Natasha is actually alive in this AU because Baz wasn't turned in the nursery as a kid, he was turned a bit later in life. Baz plays the violin still, too, but not as well as he does in canon because he stopped his lessons cold around 12-13, which was also right around when he started taking art pretty seriously. without the Mage's cuts and reforms and shit happening, the school still offered a plethora of creative arts courses to the students, and of course they're not quite like Normal classes 'cause pretty much everything ties back to magic in some way at Watford, etc., but he liked them well enough and they were enough to get him into a good program after he graduated!

about Simon in the AU: so, this is funny. i was actually editing my one fanfic, and i have this section in it that goes: "It is impossible to search the entire Wavering Wood. The environment is too thick with magic, the old and unpredictable kind that used to belong to faeries and fable creatures and all other manner of strange, lost things. Penelope says there are even parts of the Wood rumoured to be untouched by magicians. Hidden meadows and ancient groves and brooks that babble of the future, sequestered away because they never stop moving and changing, because they do not want to be found." and it planted this funny seed in my brain. in the books, fairies are like a lost magical people. Simon tells us that they wandered into the woods for a few centuries and then couldn't find their way back. and i just had this silly thought: "imagine a fairy does the opposite. wandered out, but then didn't know how to find its way back in."

the whole idea of the AU is like... this total whimsy-ass summer Simon and Baz get to spend together.

Baz comes home from school on holidays to visit his family: in winter and spring, that means he stays with his father. but in the summer, he goes to Watford to spend time with his mother (Natasha doesn't actually leave the school very often, she drowns herself in work; Malcolm sees her very rarely these days) but "spending time with his mother" is actually just six weeks of quiet lunches in her office together before Baz goes off to find a good place on the grounds to sit with his sketchbook and his Spotify until he has to go back for an equally quiet supper in her office together. and so it goes: less than a week into break, he decides to spend the afternoon in the Wavering Wood, and by chance, happens to meet Simon. a fairy that walked a little too far for a little too long, and can't seem to remember his way back to where he came from anymore.

and Simon is a fucking pest. but—he's harmless.

and he's pretty.

and Baz actually happens to like the Wavering Wood quite a lot, thank you very much, going back there every afternoon has absolutely nothing to do with anything else, lost fairies or otherwise! 😉😂

if anyone sees this and is wondering what the hell i'm on about, click here!

#THANK YOU THANK YOU FOR ASKING AND LETTING ME TALK ABOUT THEM i am sorry this is a whole essay like this is not what you signed up for #but i am living the absolute DREAM rn i love these silly guys #i will have to come up with a name for this au one day... #but for now i'm just calling it: #valen's fairy simon au #no wait: ''valen's fairy simon au (open for suggestions)'' 😂 #snowbaz

[miffybotsford]

tobecky fic | something's the matter

Something was wrong with Becky Botsford, Tobey could feel it with every fiber of his being.

It didn’t matter if she didn’t speak to him in the halls between classes, purposefully going in the opposite direction of their usual meetup spot after their respective AP classes. 

Just one look at his beloved Becky and the way she wasn’t glowing when someone asked what a word meant in front of her and he knew. 

Violet had asked what ‘impeccable’ had meant after Tobey used it in their lunch conversation, the trio had expected the brown-haired girl to eagerly explain the definition to her. 

Instead, they were met with silence, looking over in her direction to find Becky lost in thought while fiddling with the charm bracelet Violet had made her way back in middle school.

She only did it when something was bothering her. 

Tobey cleared his throat to grab her attention, her dark hazel orbs looking up in a slight daze as she noticed Scoops, Violet, and Tobey staring at her.

“H-Huh? Sorry Vi, what did you say?” The superheroine’s face flushed in embarrassment.

“I was just asking what impeccable meant is all. Are you alright Becky?” Her best friend asked her, putting her hand up to Becky’s forehead. “I hope you’re not sick, that would be awful.” 

“I’m not sick Violet, impeccable means to have no faults: or flawless. Like how everyone thinks I-Wordgirl is… Impeccable.”

She went right back to looking down at her bracelet, letting the small pieces of metal rub between her fingers. 

Tobey frowned at this, from her interruption in her own words to her tone in the last impeccable sounded too somber for his liking.

Now, changing the subject from herself to her persona Wordgirl could be mistaken as changing her words so no one would overhear but he highly doubted it. They were in a high school cafeteria after all, surrounded by boisterous teens and this wasn't near the first time they had mentioned Becky’s feats as Wordgirl at their lunch table. 

Of course, Tobey McCallister the Third was no fool. He had a hunch what the issue was, and it was her own alter ego she hid from him for so long.

Here he was, the reformed blonde villain using one of his robits (without destroying property of course) to quickly make it over to the Botsford residence to see his partner.

His wonderful, gorgeous partner, might he add. 

From the warm glow of her desk lamp coming through her bedroom window, Tobey could tell she was at least awake.

Using one of his robits hands, he lifted himself to Becky’s window, knocking gently on the thick glass to get her attention. 

Sure enough, he was correct. She was awake, sitting on her bed while her back was against the bedroom wall, her knees to her chest as she buried her face into them.

She slowly lifted her head to see her boyfriend waiting patiently as he slightly smiled and waved to her from the other side of the glass. 

Even in her dejected state, she couldn’t help but smile ever so slightly back at him as she slowly got up and opened her window for him.

“Is Bob here?” He asked softly.

“N-No, I asked him to give me some time to myself so we should be in the clear as of right now.”

Tobey let out a sigh of relief as he clasped her hands in his, “Good. Good. I really need to talk to you alone.” 

Becky winced slightly at his words from the guilt of ignoring him as she helped him inside her room, she really hadn’t changed throughout the years besides gaining new interests. She still had small pony figurines around her room as well as a whole bookshelf filled with dictionaries and romance novels she couldn’t help but collect every single one that piqued her attentiveness. 

Tobey really admired that about her, even in high school she paid no attention to societal norms when it came down to what she enjoyed.

Becky slowly closed the window behind him, noticing him sitting on the edge of her bed as he gestured for her to do the same with a small but sincere smile.

She returned the expression as she sat down beside him, sighing as she rested her head on his shoulder. 

Before he could even open his mouth, Becky spoke, “I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you at school, I just… Have a lot on my mind right now.” She took his hand in his, something that would have made his heart race and face turn scarlet a long time ago.

However, he was much used to it by now.

“I can only imagine, I mean, you ARE Wordgirl after all. Being a high school student is already stressful enough.” His fingers roamed to her brunette locks as her hair now reached to her elbows. 

Becky grimaced at the mention of her superhero persona, “Can we NOT talk about Wordgirl right now…?”

Her words spilled off her tongue like venom, the disdain in her voice was impossible to not recognize as far as Tobey was concerned. 

“...Is there a problem with mentioning it, darling?” He took a moment before he spoke to properly ask her, making sure he didn’t say the wrong words to make her upset even further.

“It’s just…” Becky let out a sigh as she interrupted herself, playing with the gold heart locket around her neck as she looked down at the piece of jewelry in her fingers. 

“It’s just what?” Her boyfriend gently asked, holding out his hand to her for a small moment of comfort.

Becky stopped her fingers, looking up at him slightly as she smiled, accepting the gesture. 

Their hands intertwined as his thumb rubbed circles on the back of her hand, her hand was warm and soft in contrast to his cold touch which made his stomach fill up with nonexistent butterflies.

Tobey gave her hand a gentle squeeze as he kept his hand connected to hers, “I’m here to listen, Becky. McCallister's honor.”

He raised his other hand as he told his pretend oath, making her laugh softly as she squeezed his hand in return. 

“Well, I guess I’m just sick of people preferring Wordgirl over Becky Botsford. I know I should be used to it by now, with all the Wordgirl merchandise and publicity but… It still hurts, a lot.” 

Tobey cringed slightly at her confession, he knew it was coming of course. Becky wasn’t exactly very good at being a secretive person. She was lucky enough that half the city hadn’t figured out her secret identity yet.

But that didn’t mean he was exactly thrilled at being correct in his assumption, he couldn’t help but feel like some of that was his fault.

After all, his younger self WAS infatuated with her superheroine persona and treated the real her… Well, not as nicely as he did now. 

One could be heavily mistaken (as blasphemous as the thought would be to Tobey) that he was only dating Becky because she was Wordgirl.

That wasn’t the case at all. 

She took another deep breath before she spoke, “You… Aren’t just dating me because I’m Wordgirl… Right?”

Ah, there it is.

The question Tobey dreaded to hear, and the words that made his heart practically rip into two.

“Oh Becky, my dear, dear Becky…” 

He now took both of her hands into his, looking into her eyes as she stared back. 

“I might have fallen for Wordgirl first, that is true…”

Becky fell slightly but her face was quickly replaced with a blink in surprise as he let go of one of her hands and pointed his index finger into the air.

“But! I fell harder for you, because I fell in love with you Becky Botsford. That’s the difference.”

There was a gleam in Becky’s eyes, it was so clear that she practically made the entire room sparkle just by their beauty alone. 

Not to mention the fact she brightened every room she had ever stepped foot into (at least Tobey thought so).

“You, Becky Botsford, are radiant. Extraordinary. Alluring. Dare I say, impeccable.” Becky looked down to see Tobey rubbing his thumbs against the surface of her hands, something he did only when she needed comfort in a particular moment. 

“And I’ll say it over and over until you practically beg me to stop.” He gave her a smile, making her heart flutter for a second time that night. 

“Tobey I… For the first time in my life, I don’t know what to say.” She softly laughed as she smiled up at him.

“That’s alright, take your time. I have nowhere to be at the moment” And there’s nowhere else on earth he’d rather be. 

Becky sat in silence for a moment, her eyes scanning the room as she carefully thought about her words, it had to be perfect to show her gratefulness to the words he had spilled out to her. 

She took a deep breath, her lips parting slightly as Tobey stared at her with anticipation. 

“Tobey, you’re words mean so much to me. God, you have no idea how much they do. I swear my heart beats 100 miles per minute whenever you open your mouth, and it’s been like that for a long time.” 

“Ever since fifth grade?” Tobey couldn’t help but ask, the thought of Becky having a crush on him for so long made his own heart beat fast. 

“Ever science before fifth grade…” She let out a small laugh, their hands still intertwined from before. 

“I thought it was because we were rivals, I truly did but now? I think it’s safe to say my mind and heart were trying to send me the signals and signs. Too bad I ignored them for so long, huh?” 

Becky sheepishly grinned, making Tobey shake his head and place a gentle kiss on her forehead making Becky's cheeks flush a deep red.

“Better late than never, my darling.” 

this is my first ever tobecky/wordgirl fic and tons more are coming !!!

#wordgirl #wordgirl writing #tobecky #tobecky writing #becky botsford #tobey mccallister #tobey mcallister iii #todd scoops ming #violet heaslip #they're in highschool now #tobey knows she's worgirl #tobey and becky have an established relationship #sorry if theyre ooc #i tried my best !!!

[rayshippouuchiha]

Your last reblock (the one with Jon[?]) hit me about as hard as finding out that children in the USA apparently go through "school shooting practices" like children from my country go through "Feueralarm Übungen" (Fire alarm[?] practices. Like that they learn what to do and shit. Like...

What the fuck?!

There are a lot of people who own "firearms" (like everything form a Bow to "pea shooters"[?] to small fire arms) in my country as well, relative speaking... and also a bit baised, because I am a "weapons enthusiasts", or in better worlds, target shooting is one of my paartime hobbies. So of course I have meet many people in my local "Schützen Vereine" (no idea what the English word for that is...) that have somewhat of an "enthusiasm" for the sport and the things that come with that.

But like, we have rules for that... the former mentioned firearms? Yeah, "good luck" getting on those, multiple tests, psychological evaluation, letting the police know, showing that you can adequate store the weapon (ammo and pistol separate and all that stuff), and multiple other things (it's a bit different for veterans but my dad most probably sleeps and I have only so much time in my "lunch break"). And out guide lines are relatively lose over here... the USA thought? Do you guys even do checkups? Does your police know who has a gun/who buys one? How do get so many underage children in the position of them... like how come that I get in the legal age to drink over her the same time that you get to get your first firearm? Do you have any guidelines to store your weapons or do they just sit on the countertop? I have so many questions and legitimately don't want any of them answered whatsoever!

I don't know what this whole post is except genuine horror at nearly everything that I have heard from you guys... are you okay? Like Germany isn't the best either, but this is just scary!

Yeah that was Jon Stewart doing the good work as always.

Gun control in the US is a fucking mess and a joke. A messy joke where the punchline is a lot of dead people and now multiple generations of children growing up with the background radiation of being terrified they could die at school. Or at the movie theater. Or the shopping mall. Or while worshiping at their church/temple/mosque. Or just walking down the street.

And there are a number of factors that have led to that situation.

A lack of a functioning healthcare system where mental health awareness in children and adults alike is taken seriously plays a part.

There's also the sheer size of the US as a single country and how that impacts things to take into account. Because the US is broken down into 50+ states, all of which are, in a number of ways, like their own little countries.

And each state might have its own policies about things like guns.

But, all of that aside, it's getting the proper laws passed on a federal level that would go a long way toward the issue of gun safety and control reform in this country.

But that's where we run into the same issue we run into when it comes to fixing so many of the other glaring problems in this country

Money.

Because that's what it boils down to. For example, we have the NRA (National Rifle Association) and politicians being paid by them who will fight tooth and nail to keep restrictions to a bare minimum.

Plus guns are just generally politicized in the US in a way I don't really think they are in most other countries.

But without writing an entire thesis about gun control and the issues with the political Right and the Left in the US what I can and will say is this:

Most regular US citizens want gun control. The vast majority of us want there to be more checks, more bans, and more regulations.

We are tired of being afraid, tired of losing friends and family, and tired of seeing dead kids on the news.

In this, as in what feels like so many other things these days, the voices and pockets of the powerful few are outweighing the voices and the fears of the common many.

#RayRambles #us politics #gun control #there's more detail and back and forth arguments I could get into but I honestly don't feel like it #so this is a broad and pretty simple overview

[angelsaxis]

The number of women killed by their partners will increase. The number of pregnant people murdered will increase. The number of suicides during pregnancy will increase. The number of preventable maternal/infant deaths will increase. America has the highest maternal/infant mortality rates of any first world country. Those rates are going to get worse.

And from this, probably the number of child abuse cases/deaths will increase, if the men that hate women and children aren't able to successfully kill their partners.

More children abused and/or killed in the foster care system that the pro lifers celebrating this decision refuse to reform. More children who would be dependent on the free school lunch programs that the government is barely funding. More children in an underfunded education system. More children born to already struggling parents who will not be able to properly raise them. More children suffering the trauma of being separated from their birth families to be essentially sold in the adoption industry. More children born into a world that is increasingly and explicitly hostile to children.

I do not think pro lifers have a good understanding of "life of the mother". A woman who gets an abortion because she knows her partner will kill her if he even finds out is trying to save her life. A woman who gets an abortion because she knows her partner will abuse her more, or will turn abusive, is trying to save her life. A woman who is homeless and discovers she's pregnant is trying to save her life. A woman who is not mentally stable enough to handle a pregnancy, let alone a child, is trying to save her life. A woman who's at risk for preeclampsia, gestational diabetes, or any other potentially/actually life threatening gestational problem who gets an abortion is trying to save her life. A woman who knows she will be abandoned if she reveals her pregnancy is trying to save her life. A woman who might lose her job due to her pregnancy, and thus have no means of survival, is trying to save her life. A woman who is aware of the disproportionate rates of maternal mortality, medical abuse, and medical neglect faced by her demographic (ie. Black women) is trying to save her life.

Your crisis pregnancy centers do not prevent these things. Free diapers and baby clothes do not stop abusers from hunting down their victims. They do not stop racist doctors and nurses from ignoring and downplaying Black women's pain until it's too late. They do not stop the housing crisis and homelessness rates from rising. They do not stop gestational complications and diseases, or genetic factors that make carrying a child life threatening. They do not stop ectopic pregnancies, which are life threatening. Your anti-abortion policies do not get to the root causes of why someone might want an abortion (literally all of the aforementioned reasonings, as well as others I've left out). "Life of the mother" only exists insofar as a pregnant person is bleeding out on a table, on the brink of death. Then maybe, abortion is permissible.

#angel posts #fuck yall

[lanas-delight]

macabre.

✰ a horror enhypen fic || word count: 30k+

✰ description — stupidly, a group of friends plan a party at a mansion who’s owner had mysteriously gone missing. little do they know, they just might be next.

✰ warnings — major character death, murder, blood, knives, gore, angst, violence, strong language, mention of abuse, mention of overdose, some smoking and underage drinking (at a party), basically a murderous psychological horror.

✰ note — there is one joke said by jake to jungwon about how close jaywon are in this story and how they could be lovers (they're not), though it's because of reasons that will be explained later on, it is worth mentioning here about it just in case. other than that, enjoy!

“What are you doing?”

Jungwon lifted his head quickly at the sudden voice, but from the tone alone, he knew the other had been standing there for at least a while. He didn’t notice the shoes that had appeared in front of him, though he had just been staring at his lap for a solid minute or two. Had he zoned out again? He shook his head and huffed, “Obviously nothing,” he replied, scooting over a little as Jay turned around so he could sit beside the younger boy on the bench just outside the front entrance of their school.

It was sometime past noon during lunch, and Jungwon had found himself wandering the halls with a reluctant appetite and a growing despair for this school. He thought he had been wronged as he worked harder than the others for his class president campaign, but lost the election to the principal’s daughter. He should’ve seen it coming, really, but he couldn’t help feeling unworthy, almost useless in a way. He did his best, he was sure of it. But did he actually not do as well as he thought he did? Maybe, maybe not.

“It’s not your fault, ya’know,” Jay told him, as if he knew exactly why Jungwon was upset—though he always did in one way or another, “Your campaign was better than everyone else’s. It’s—nepotism, or whatever.” He mumbled a bit, but Jungwon heard him clearly.

“I know. It’s fine,”

“No it’s not, Won,”

“No, it is,” Jungwon reassures the other, though he felt like he was still trying to convince himself that it was, too. “I’ll be fine, I’ve—” He cut himself off, realizing he didn’t have next year to campaign again. He was a fourth year. He graduates in the spring. “It’s fine,” he repeats again.

Jay rolled his eyes, “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Won,” and he leaned back against the bench. “You hear about Niki?” but Jungwon shook his head. “His parents kicked him out, I think he’s staying with Sunoo or Jake, I can’t remember who.”

Jungwon hummed, “How long do you think it’ll last this time?”

The older male shrugged, “Two weeks. Not a day later,”

“Is he okay?”

“Yeah I think so. He seemed fine. This isn’t the first time so I’m sure he’s pretty used to it by now,” it was a sly remark, which was why Jungwon was a little relieved he was the only one who had heard it. Niki and his family weren’t the closest when it came to their differences, which caused Niki to rebel a lot and eventually leave or get kicked out for a while before he went back. He’d swear every time that he’ll never go back, but he’s usually back there within a week or two.

“What was it for this time?”

“Smoking, he said.”

“I thought he didn’t smoke,”

“No we just told you that so you wouldn’t freak,” Jay took out a lollipop from his pocket and took off the wrapper, sticking it into his mouth while completely not noticing the shocked expression that had appeared on Jungwon’s face.

“What do you mean he smokes? Why would he—” Jungwoon stopped and let out a deep breath, “Why would you keep that from me?”

“Because you swore off smoking when you were, like, 8. You hate smokers,”

“I don’t hate you.”

“Yeah but I’m me. Of course you don’t hate me,” Jay smiled at the younger, the stick of the lollipop pointing outwards of his mouth, gritting against his teeth a little. “I’m also reformed. I don’t smoke,”

“Anymore, at least.”

Jay used to smoke at least a pack a day but since it finally started to mess with his health, he quit and used lollipops as a replacement. Jungwon hated the smell of cigarette smoke, just the smell alone gave him a migraine every time. Jay never disclosed why he stopped smoking, except when Jake asked him while Jungwon was there, but just before he said whatever he was originally going to say, he just said, ‘Cancer sucks, you know,’ and that was the end of it.

“Whatever,” that was his favorite word, “Besides—You’d lose your mind if you ever hated me,”

Jungwoon scoffed, “I would not. I’m not dependent on your existence,”

Jay clicked his tongue, “Funny.”

“I’m not.”

“Whatever you say, Won.”

Jungwoon huffed, but he was quiet for a minute. Jay took the lollipop out of his mouth for a second before looking over to Jungwon, though he didn’t say anything and just looked away again. Jungwon’s hands locked together in his lap, sitting awkwardly. Jay glanced over, and leaned his head back. “What is it, Won?”

The younger looked over, “Huh? Nothing,”

“Talk.”

He didn’t like it when Jay spoke with that kind of tone, so he just obliged as he rolled his eyes. “I mean, I’d miss you. If we weren’t friends. I could survive, but I don’t think I’d want to.”

Jay furrowed his eyebrows. “Thanks?”

“No I mean,” Jungwon turned his body, sitting sideways on the bench to face Jay with his right leg crossed over his left ankle, “You’re my best friend, but I also don’t have many friends to begin with. I’ve learned to be alone, so if you weren’t here, I’d survive, but I’d hate it.”

“I still don’t get it.”

“I wouldn’t want to be without you,”

From the look on Jay’s face, Jungwon felt his stomach twist inside him. Jungwon tried his best to not sound sentimental when he spoke with Jay. It wasn’t that Jay wasn’t an emotional person, because he was, definitely, but in a way, that worried Jungwon so he did his best to stray away from the more sentimental stuff. He’s known Jay all his life, his first friend ever, his best friend since diapers. He met Niki, Sunoo, and all the others through school, but it was Jay he’s known before everything. They’ve been best friends way longer than they’ve known the others, which was why they didn’t really say anything about how close the two were.

Jay was direct, tough and a little sly. He was nice to his friends, especially Jungwon, who was like family to him. He didn’t like people, but he was attractive and charming. Lots of girls fawned over him, but he paid no attention to them. He was more into his studies and his friends, he couldn’t care less about a girlfriend then, despite the fact he was a senior and one of the more popular guys there. Like stated before, he used to be a huge smoker, but because of his leather-jacket-and-jeans type of fashion outside of school, he was labeled as “the bad boy” even though he was actually very kind and caring when he’s around the people he loved the most. But Jungwon wasn’t like him, not at all.

Jungwoo was shy, he was way too nice to everyone and anyone which led to a lot of ignored trauma Jungwon went through growing up. He didn’t talk much about his home life, nor his past or his problems. He didn’t like to. He thought he’d be seen as weak-minded, especially at such a prestigious academy. But his friends meant the world to him. He cared the most about Jay since they’ve practically been friends since they were babies. But even though Jay was just a little under a year older than Jungwon (Jungwon had a late birthday but still qualified to be put into the same class as Jay), he still looked up to Jay for most of the years that have passed. Jungwon still does, even though he claims he doesn’t anymore.

Unlike the rest of them, Jungwon and Niki were the only two that went to the academy on a scholarship. The others were rich, accepted into the academy easily with their remarkable grades and overwhelming wealth. But Jungwon and Niki weren’t so fortunate with their families and home life. Of course, they did their best to not let that affect their lives at school. Niki, well, tried but he was always getting kicked out, meanwhile Jungwon kept his life so secret that Jay was the only person who had a clue about what Jungwon’s been through, and is still going through every day. But still, Jungwon doesn’t like to feel weak so Jay tries to not worry so much about Jungwon, though he couldn’t help it most of the time. Jungwon was his best friend. He may never admit it, but in all honesty, Jay knew he couldn’t live without him.

Jay didn’t say anything for a moment, which only made Jungwon feel uneasy. But then Jay looked over at him, and gave him a short smile.

“You’re too good, Jungwon.”

Jungwon smiled, but then he checked his phone for the time. “Shit, lunch is almost over.”

“You didn’t eat?”

Jungwon shook his head.

“Why not?”

“Wasn’t hungry,” Jungwon shrugged. “Did you?”

Jay took out his lollipop that was much smaller now. “Just this,” and he popped it back into his mouth, “You wanna head back to class?”

“Sure.”

Both of them stood up from the bench and headed back inside the building. Their next class was on the third floor so they went ahead and waited outside the room since it wouldn’t be long until the bell would ring. Jay stood against the wall, his upper back touching the glass window as Jay stood beside him, looking through that same window.

“Aye,”

Jungwon turned his head to the right, and Jay eventually did the same, seeing two of their friends approaching, Sunghoon and Heeseung.

“Did you skip lunch, too?” Sunghoon asked first.

Jay shrugged, “More or less,” with one hand, he dabbed up Sunghoon and Heeseung while the other buried itself in his pocket. Jungwon glanced back through the window before turning to face the others. “What were you guys doing?”

“We left and got food,” Heeseung replied. “I have some leftover curry. You want it?” He reached the white styrofoam box out to Jungwon.

But Jungwon shook his head, “No thank you. I’m not really hungry,” and though Jay glanced at him, he kept his mouth shut.

Heeseung was the most popular guy at school, but he was really nice. A fourth year like Jay and Jungwon, Sunghoon, too. He was very well liked, he knew everyone and everyone knew him. He met Jay back in their first year and they’ve been friends ever since, and because of that, Jungwon became friends with him, too. It was the opposite for Sunghoon, however, as he met Jungwon first as second years and became friends with Jay later.

Sunghoon was always involved in clubs, so most of the guys would tease him for how many medallions and ropes he’ll have to wear for graduation when the day eventually comes. But being involved in so many clubs and keeping up with all of them meant that Sunghoon was very popular with the underclassmen. However, he always rejects when girls ask him out, not because he didn’t like them, but because he was always busy. Either with the guys or the growing list of clubs he’s in, Sunghoon was always busy. He was never home.

Sunghoon thinned his lips, “Hey, we heard about the election. You okay?”

Jungwon nodded, “I think so. It is what it is, I guess.” He shrugged carelessly, trying to seem at least okay with the fact he lost the election, but his face couldn’t appear more sad about it.

“Hey, you know what?” Heeseung started to say, a curving smile on his face, “We should have a party.”

“A party?” Jay raised his eyebrow.

“Yeah, to celebrate Jungwon’s hard work! And his position as vice president!”

To the second runnings of the student body president election, they are given the vice president position instead. Jungwon absolutely hated that, it felt humiliating. But it was nice to see that his friends thought he was great.

Jungwon disagreed, however.

“No way,” said Jungwon quickly, “Why would we have a party just for that?”

“Uh, to celebrate you? Did you not hear me just now?” Heeseung replied with a chuckle, “Don’t be such a downer, Jungwon. Let us plan it, yeah?”

“I dunno . . .” He scratched the back of his neck, “You guys shouldn’t go out of your way and do all that just for this. It’s not even that great either. I’m just the vice president,”

“Still a president, nonetheless,” said Sunghoon. “Your achievements are worth acknowledging,”

“And celebrating!” Heeseung added. “Now, will you let us plan the party?”

Jungwon then looked to Jay, almost for permission but also, maybe some back up on why they shouldn’t do this. But disappointed like always, Jay smiled.

“I think it could be fun,” Jay half-shrugged, “Don’t you think?” He looked over at Jungwon, but he knew Jungwon couldn’t say no to him.

Jungwon sighed. “I guess,” It was obvious he didn’t want it, but being a people pleaser was both a blessing and a curse, but mostly a curse.

Sunghoon grinned, “Good. Heeseung and I will plan it.”

“But wait, where will it be at?” Jay suddenly questioned, earning a blank expression on the other’s face.

Sunghoon stared at him, blinking a couple times at the older before he eventually spoke. “I just said we’ll figure it out.”

Jay rolled his eyes, “Whatever,” he grumbled and turned around just as the bell rang. “Let us know about the party,” he said before he opened the classroom door and headed inside. Jungwon stood out in the hall with them for another minute or so before they all dabbed each other up and went their separate ways for the day. Jungwon always sat beside Jay in the classes they shared together. Some even called them inseparable, though others would question the way Jay would act sometimes but Jungwon would always excuse it with his “he’s got a real tough exterior that hides a golden heart” line. It always makes the girls swoon. But Jay never paid them any attention. He never knew how to love someone, but neither did Jungwon.

By the end of class, Jay had an entire page of notes while Jungwon barely wrote down three lines worth of notes. He couldn’t keep his focus, for some reason, he just couldn’t. Jay always took pages and pages of notes, and normally Jungwon took decent notes as well, but lately, since the election, he’s just become so out of place. He can’t focus, he’s starting to become tired all the time. Was he depressed? He didn’t think so. But maybe he was, or starting to be. Maybe. But he hoped he wasn’t.

It should be noted that Jay has a black 2022 Dodge Charger, a car worth way more than Jungwon’s future college tuition. He always parks it on the right side of the parking lot in the very last spot. It’s a bit of a walk to get to it, but Jay never minded it. In fact, he enjoyed it. He liked exercising and keeping in shape, while Jungwon would just tolerate the constant walking and exercising because Jay was his best friend.

Since Jungwon doesn’t have a car yet, he always rides with Jay to school. The others had cars, too, but he liked Jay’s the best. Sunghoon had a tan-colored 2016 Honda Civic which he got from his mom after she got herself a new car. Sunoo had a blue 2017 Kia Soul which he had gotten for his 16th birthday. Heeseung was given his dad’s old pick up truck, though it wasn’t old at all. It was a silver 2019 Chevrolet Silverado. Niki has an older car, a crimson 2009 Nissan Altima his grandpa gave to him before he passed. And Jake has a white 2021 Nissan Sentra that he bought with his own money, already almost paid off. Jay’s was already paid off (a perk of rich parents).

Jungwon was the only one without a car, for obvious familial reasons, but Jay never had a problem with taking him to school with him. First, they were best friends, and two, Jungwon loved Jay’s car. It was a sports car, modern and new, and clean—and really, really fast. And since Jay was almost never sick, though whenever he was sick, it was always during the breaks throughout the school year, he was never absent. In fact, he hadn't missed a single day of school since the first grade. He’s gotten plenty of perfect attendance awards for that over the years, too.

In a way, Jungwon really did look up to him. He was intelligent, talented, and strong. He was what Jungwon always wanted to be. It was kinda like Jay was his role model, his own best friend. Was that weird? He never paid any attention to details like that, not until lately at least.

Jay unlocked the car and tossed his backpack into the backseat before getting into the driver’s seat. Jungwon got into the passenger seat and shut the door, holding his backpack in his lap. It earned a look from Jay, like it always did, but he didn’t say anything.

Jungwon looked over after he buckled his seat belt, but his eyes turned to his phone as he felt it vibrate in his hand. He read the message, then turned back to Jay who had just started the car. “Hey, the guys wanna meet at the junkyard. You wanna go?”

“God, why did we choose that to be our hang out place?” Jay muttered under his breath, “But sure. You wanna go straight there or pick something up first?”

“Up to you,”

“Let’s just head there first,” Jay looked back as he started to back out of the parking spot. One arm on shoulder of Jungwon’s seat and the other pressed against the edge of the steering wheel, his left hand out flat as his palm moves the steering wheel with ease. It was hard not to notice Jay’s jawline—it was sharp, like really sharp. It could cut tomatoes, or potatoes, or other foods one would cut with a knife, but Jay’s jawline was one of his best looking attributes.

Music played at a low volume from the radio. It was a song he’d only heard a few times, but it was Jay’s favorite—Fade Into You by Mazzy Star. Jay hummed along the guitar strums, mouthing some of the words as he drove. It somewhat made the silent car ride a little more tolerable but that didn’t distract Jungwon enough from starting to feel awkward. Thinking about the party the guys were planning for him, it felt like too much for something he didn’t want. He wanted to be the president, not the vice president. It was a downgrade, a very humiliating downgrade. But the others didn’t see it like that. They were always so hopeful.

But all of them—with the exception of Niki—had richer families, but even Niki was a very hopeful person. They all had their own issues, but that didn’t stop their positivity, weirdly. For example, Heeseung’s parents had him out of wedlock but never married because they ended up breaking up before he was even born, Jake’s parents were never married either but they split up sometime after Jake was born anyways, Sunghoon’s parents almost divorced like twenty times but never went through it, and Niki’s were literal drug dealers, but they were all so positive. Even Jay was at times. But Jungwon never got it. He wasn’t like a ‘Debbie Downer,’ or a ‘Negative Nancy,’ but he definitely wasn’t all that positive. He just went with the flow, and whatever happens, well, happens. He was in control of his emotions, mostly, but that just really worried Jay and the others more. They never knew what Jungwon was thinking. But Jay always figured it out, in one way or another, he did. And Jungwon hated it.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” Jungwon jumped a little at Jay’s sudden voice, but he nodded his head, “I’m fine.”

“Don’t lie to me, Won,” He glanced over, “What’s going on?”

Jungwon sighed, looking down at his lap. “Is it really necessary for a party? I mean,” he lifted his head and looked over at Jay, “I’m the vice president, not the president. It’s humiliating, Jay. It’s like a slap in the face,”

Jay scoffed, “No it’s not—”

“Yes it is!” Jungwon exclaimed, “I wanted to be the president, not the stupid, forgotten about vice president.”

“Jungwon—”

“No!” Jungwon cut him off, “This is my fourth year, Jay! I wanted this year to be good. University won’t be like high school. We’re all going to different places, we won’t be together anymore. We’re splitting up.”

Jay frowned, looking over at the other once he stopped at a red light. “Won, are you really this worried about that? We’ll hang out all the time, I swear. We’re not splitting up. Even if we’re busy through the week, we still have the weekend. A-And the breaks!” He sighed, “We’re not splitting up, Won. I promise you,” Jay reassured him with a soft smile, “I’ll make sure of it.”

Jungwon leaned back and turned to the window, “What’s gonna happen when you go off to Jeju, huh?” He spoke a bit lowly, almost trying to hide his breaking voice.

Jay was going to Jeju National University next fall. He’ll be living 9 hours away.

“Nothing’s going to happen.” Jay stated firmly, “I swear to you.”

The younger male glanced over, but kept his mouth shut. Jay’s foot lifted off the break and started to go again. In the distance, there were car horns, but Jungwon didn’t even glance in its direction. He just continued to stare through the window, silently in his thoughts. Jay let out a sigh as he turned his blinker on and turned left, soon exiting the city of Seoul, arriving at the junkyard where the group always hung out. He didn’t get why a bunch of academy kids chose to hang out 24/7 at an old junkyard, but it was what they decided. Just as they arrived, parking in between Sunghoon and Jake’s cars, Jay leaned back and huffed. He turned his head and looked at Jungwon, waiting for the younger to say something, but when only silence continued to grow in between the two, Jay decided to speak instead.

“I know you think it’s humiliating, but it’s not to us,” Jay told him, “or at least it’s not to me.” But Jungwon kept quiet, earning a frown from Jay again. “I’m proud of you, Won.”

Just as Jungwon started to turn his head to look over, Jay turned and got out of the car. Jungwon kept his thoughts inside, letting out a sigh before he got out of the car as well. Jay closed his door and locked the car, causing it to honk once and the lights to blink. Jungwon followed him into the junkyard, walking behind him with a bit of distance. He buried his hands into his pockets, his head low as he followed Jay out to the empty space in the middle of the junkyard where the others were. All still dressed in their school uniforms, most of them found a seat on old barrels or like Jake, sitting on the hood of an old, rusted, jacked up car.

Sunoo spoke first, “Congrats, Jungwon!” He had a big smile plastered on his face, his eyes crinkled like two turned over crescents, rosy cheeks and a warming personality.

Unlike the others, Sunoo was an art student, very talented when it came to art, drawing, pottery, etc. He was a talented artist, but because all his work was put into his art, he didn’t really talk to anyone who weren’t the guys. In fact, he was pretty shy, maybe more than Jungwon was. He was kind and calm, though he practically laughed at everything. He was a very sweet person, liked by many though he only ever talked to a handful of people.

Jungwon kept his eyes strayed away, “Thanks,” he muttered, making Sunoo tilt his head in confusion but before he could ask, Sunghoon stepped forward, his hands in his pockets, standing like some bully—which he wasn’t—but he looked cool, nonetheless.

“So, we have an issue about the party,”

“That we shouldn’t have it? Great!” Jungwon replied sarcastically, but when everyone looked at him and stared, he got defensive. “What? I don’t want the party!”

“Would you quit with that?” Jay stood beside him, his arms crossed, “We’re trying to celebrate your accomplishment. Would it hurt you to be grateful?”

Jungwon furrowed his eyebrows, “Yes, actually, it would because why are we even having this party?” He questioned them all, “I lost the election, I didn’t win it. Why are we celebrating my loss?”

“Oh god, not this again.”

“Yes! This again!” Jungwon turned to the others, “It’s humiliating, and I dunno why I keep having to explain this but I didn’t run to be the V.P. I wanted to be the president, but I was given the lesser because I wasn’t good enough,”

“No, that’s where you’re wrong,” Heeseung reprimanded, “You are way better than that chick. In every way, you are. She’s a nepo-baby. She only got that shit because of her father. You deserved it whole-heartedly, and because no one else is celebrating your hard work, we’re going to do it instead.” He explained to the younger, “So would you just let us plan the damn party?”

“Yeah, you don’t even let us throw you a birthday party,” said Sunghoon, “At least let us throw you this one,” but that had hit a sensitive nerve with Jungwon, not that anyone noticed it.

Jungwon huffed, crossing his arms and looking off. He thought for a moment, shaking his head. “If I let you guys plan this party, would you guys get off my dick about it?”

“Jeez,” Jake hissed, “The hell is up with you, Jungwon?”

Jake was more athletically popular than the others were. He played basketball most of his life, even playing a few years of both soccer and baseball as well. Everyone saw him as a jock, which made him a definite girl-magnet. However, unlike the stereotypical jock, he was actually very smart and was very into science and physics. He had been in AP biology, AP chemistry, AP physics, even planning to go to university as a physics major. He was very smart, and his intelligence poured out of him (which only made more girls find him very attractive) but he always paid attention to his team, his future, and his friends. He was very funny, though collected and kind of distant with people from different social groups. But he was still one of the more popular guys at the academy, which was never something he disliked. He also was a foreigner from Australia, so that also became why so many girls wanted him. Although lately, he’s only been paying attention to one.

Jungwon unfolded his arms, grunting. “You guys aren’t listening to me. I don’t want this party. Really! It’s embarrassing that I lost, after all my hard work. Humbled and humiliated. I don’t want to be reminded of it,”

Heeseung sighed, “We hear you. But we want to celebrate you and your hard work, even though you didn’t win. Even if the party is just us, we want to celebrate you. Could you let us do that?” He lifted his eyebrows, trying to give Jungwon a gentle, reassuring smile.

He didn’t know what to say. Did he want to give in? Was he really going to let his friends plan a party for him which will just be them? He hated feeling humiliated, but maybe this could help feel better. Maybe he judged it too quickly. Should he give it a shot?

“I dunno, guys . . .” Jungwon shook his head, “You guys are popular. It’ll get around that you’re having a party and then hundreds of people will show up.”

“Is that really that bad?” Jake replied, “More people to celebrate with us. Besides, we don’t have to tell them why we’re having the party. We can just have a party, and if people end up coming, we can just go to a different room and celebrate alone before we return, I guess?”

Jungwoon was unsure. “Is it really worth it?”

“Of course it is,” Jay suddenly spoke up, earning Jungwon’s attention almost immediately, “It’s a party for you. Of course it’s worth it.”

Jungwon looked around at the others, then he let out a long sigh, “Fine. We can have a party,” and though the guys started to cheer, Jungwon continued, “But don’t go overboard.”

Sunghoon cleared his throat, “Okay, cool that we got it approved or whatever, but there’s still one issue about all this,” he paused, “We don’t have a place to have the party.”

“What do you mean?” Niki raised his eyebrow, “You guys are rich. Just rent out a venue,”

Niki, like Jungwon, went to the academy on a scholarship because he was smart and passed enough tests with flying colors that got him to be enrolled (free) into the academy. His family was poor, almost on the brink of poverty, which caused Niki to work at a part-time job with inhuman hours, though he’d always claim that “the money was all worth it in the end.” He always denied the others’ attempts to give him money. He didn’t like help. However, while Jungwon lived with his grandma, Niki lived with his terrible parents who constantly kicked him out of the house from Niki’s rebellious antics that started to grow because of how they treated him during his childhood. It was his right to act out, however, because his parents were absolute hypocrites. Niki was actually Japanese, making him a foreigner. He moved to South Korea with his family when he was about six or seven, and has lived in Seoul ever since. He was very independent, and he didn’t care for gender norms or rules, a basic bad boy—which didn’t really help his case every time he’d get kicked out and forced to stay at his friends’ houses all the time.

“No, no. We wanted to have it at one of our houses,” said Sunghoon, “but all of our parents will be in town. And obviously, we can’t have it at school or the park or something.”

“Then where are we going to have it?” asks Heeseung. “Are we just not going to have it?”

“So we convinced Jungwon for nothing?” Jay remarked, earning a nudge from Jungwon in response.

“No, no. I’ll figure it out,” Sunghoon said, “Just try and convince yall’s parents to go on a sudden trip or something. Could we maybe have it in your pool house, Jake?”

“No! That’s where I sleep!” Jake exclaimed, offended, “What about Sunoo’s garage?”

“That’s my art studio!”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I renovated it last week. I thought I told you,”

“We’re getting off topic,” Sunghoon raised his voice over the rest, “We will figure it out. But no matter what—We are going to have this party.”

Jungwon rolled his eyes, “God, you guys— It’s really not that serious.”

Heeseung shushed him, “Yes, it is that serious, now let us do our jobs, yeah?”

“What—” Jungwon turned, “Jay, help me out,” he whispered to him.

Jay stared at him blankly for a moment before he shrugged, “You heard the man.”

Jungwon groaned, “I hate you,” he grumbled, earning a laugh from Jay.

A bit of time passed and the group dispersed and headed home for the night. Jay dropped Jungwon off at his house and headed home as well. Jungwon went inside the house, noticing his grandma sitting on the couch as she folded the warm clothes from the white laundry basket beside her. Jungwon closed the front door quietly, holding one of his backpack straps as he started to walk past the living room walkway quietly and quickly so she wouldn’t notice him, but unfortunately, she saw him and called for him.

“Jungwonie, come here,”

Jungwon stopped and groaned before turning back and walking into the living room. “Hi, grandma. How’s your day been?” It was chit-chat, trying to get this over with so he could just head straight to his room, cry for a bit, and then eventually pass out.

She smiled, “It’s been slow. I was wondering when you’d get home,”

“Sorry, we went to the junkyard,” he replied quietly, fiddling with his fingers. She glanced at him then turned back to watch the TV ahead of her. The news was playing out, the news reporter talking about missing people again but then he heard a familiar name. He looks up, a bit intrigued. “Mr Hwang?” Sunghoon’s neighbor’s face was displayed on the screen beside the news reporter, “He’s missing?”

“Since Tuesday, apparently,”

“Of last week?” Jungwon leaned back, “Do you think he’s okay?”

She shook her head, “I have worried about him these last few years. You heard about his wife?” After Jungwon nodded, she shook her head again. “Poor boy. I pray for him,”

Jungwon looked over, but didn’t say anything. Then, she smiled a bit and turned to him.

“How’s Jay doing?” She always asks about him. She loves Jay, almost as much as she loved Jungwon—her own grandson—but then again, he didn’t blame her. Everyone loved Jay.

Jungwon nodded once, “Good. Him and the others are planning a party for me,”

She tilted her head, “A party? For what?”

“Well, I lost the election but I’m still the vice president so they’re celebrating that.”

“That’s amazing! Why didn’t you tell me that sooner?” She was excited for her grandson, but he couldn’t disagree with her more.

“I dunno,” Jungwon shrugged, “I thought it was humiliating that I lost, but they’re so convinced that I did so well. I don’t get it, but maybe that’s just me,”

It wasn’t news (especially to her) that Jungwon was very hard on himself. He never thought of himself as good enough, even if he was more than enough. The others saw him for who he was—a strong, independent, intelligent person who was hard working, realistic, reliable, and so on. But Jungwon never understood that. He didn’t understand any of it, but it was like a trauma response to think of everything he does as not good enough. He’s not necessarily a perfectionist, but he thinks most of what he does isn’t good enough and that he’s prone to doing everything wrong. He’s convinced everyone sees him as weak and unreliable so he goes out of his way constantly to be there for his friends, make sure he does everything right, practically sell his soul and entire being to make his friends happy. They’d always tell him that they’re fine, that he should worry more about himself and not them, but he never listens.

“It usually is just you,” She remarks. “You’re good, Jungwonie. Why don’t you see that?” She asks, “You make me so proud, and I’m sure your grandfather would agree, too.” His grandfather passed away some years ago, he was like a dad to Jungwon, like his grandma was like a mom to him. He’s never told anyone, but Jay, about his home life, and how things used to be, but even Jay didn’t know everything, but he knew enough to help him if he needed it. Jungwon wasn’t even sure if he’d ever tell him everything either.

“But I don’t understand it,” Jungwon replied quietly, “I do my best but I get turned away. I know I should be grateful but I always try my hardest, but I’m always given the least.”

She curved her lips downward, creasing her eyebrows, drawing them together before she sighed. “Your mother was always hard on herself too,” She began to say, but just hearing the mention of his mother made Jungwon’s stomach twist, “I couldn’t say I wasn’t hard on her, too. But I wanted her to learn and grow, but as I have seen my own mistakes and learned, I promised I’d take care of you to make up for all the mistakes I made with her.”

Jungwon’s nose stung, he felt the tears starting to form at the corner of his eyes. But he quickly took the end of his index finger and wiped them away. He sniffled, “You’re so kind, grandma.”

He tried to give her a smile, but she folded a blouse and left it in her lap, staring down at it for a moment before she lifted her head slowly and looked over at her grandson, smiling at him now.

“And you, the same, my boy.” She smiled more, “Now go get some rest. I suppose you let them plan you a party, hm?”

He let out a laugh, “Yeah, I did.”

“Good,” She nodded, “You deserve it, sweetheart.” And as he stood, he bowed to her and turned to leave the room. Then, she switched the channel over to a different one, playing one of her favorite shows. She cheered quietly, but Jungwon heard one of the characters say something about a carousel. He listened closely at the doorway, hearing it again. The carousel never stops turning. He kinda scoffed at it. “Gosh, she watches such weird shows.” He mutters before finally leaving.

In his room, he tossed his backpack onto his desk chair before flopping onto his bed, sighing loudly as the bed creaked. It was an older bed, one his grandpa slept on while he grew up. But it was bigger than a twin so he didn’t mind its age. There were posters on the wall—mostly music artists such as Lana Del Rey, The Neighborhood, Brent Faiyaz, etc. His bedsheets were white and red, with his blanket being a darker red color. There was a dresser in the corner of the room, against the wall across the one his bed was pressed up against. Beside the dresser was his desk where his closed laptop sat and a bulletin board hung above it. It had important notes, schedules, but most notably, it had photos of him and his friends on it. He cared a lot about his friends.

Groaning as he stretched, Jungwon eventually sat up and checked his phone. There was a text from Jay that appeared on the screen.

jay 9:54pm

the party will be great

don’t worry too much, yeah?

Jungwon sighed and replied back.

jungwon 9:56pm

idk jay. i get it but is it really worth it

Jay quickly replied.

jay 9:56pm

stop talking like that.

of course it’s worth it.

now go to bed

jungwon 9:57pm

fine. goodnight jay

jay 9:57pm

night, won

Jungwon tossed his phone lighty back on the bed and stood up. He undressed and changed into shorts and a t-shirt before laying back down on his bed, curling up in his blanket before he put his phone on the charger and closed his eyes to gently drift to sleep. Maybe he should be happy about the party. It couldn’t be too bad, right? He hoped it wouldn’t be. Maybe it’ll be the best party ever, or it could be a terrible waste of everyone’s time. Nonetheless, it was a party, thrown in his favor by his bestest friends. It’d be good, for sure. Right?

✧✧✧

For the next several days, Jungwon didn’t hear a single thing about the party. Of course, he felt relieved at first, but after about the fourth day, he started to wonder—were they planning it without him completely? He knew he was against it, but he still wanted to be at least included in the planning. Well, it was a party for him so maybe it was a surprise. Nonetheless, he wanted to ask about it so that afternoon at the junkyard, he asked them. But they didn’t exactly give him an answer he could have expected.

“No, we haven’t been planning it since we don’t have a place to have it yet,” Sunghoon replied nonchalantly, playing a game on his phone. 

“Why?” Heeseung glanced over, “Do you know a place?”

Jungwon drooped his shoulders, “No, unfortunately,” he actually seemed sad about it, which quickly drew Jay and Jake’s attention as normally, Jungwon wouldn’t appear sad about something like this. He didn’t like public outings, or just parties in general, so it was new to see that Jungwon was actually sad to hear that the party wasn’t a-go.

Jake peaked over, “Well maybe we could have it at your neighbor’s,” it was a weird suggestion, and at first, Jungwon didn’t understand it until Sunghoon replied to Jake.

“Have the party at my missing neighbor’s house? Have you gone crazy?”

That’s where he knew. 

Mr Hwang was Sunghoon’s neighbor. He was an older man, white and gray hair with a balding spot right on the top of his head. He was a bigger fella, usually dressed in suits or more formal casual wear, and he was very nice to all the neighbors. He owned his own law firm, though he retired early and gave it to his eldest son. A few years back, he lost his wife to cancer, though still managed to still be kind to his neighbors and be active in the community. Since her passing, he’s advocated for many charities for cancer patients and families of late cancer patients. Sunghoon didn’t know him, but both of his parents did. His father, who he lived with primarily, knew Mr Hwang very well, so he was distraught to hear his friend had gone missing. As of today, it’s been about three months since he had gone missing, though despite that, Mr Hwang’s family still paid for the maids to keep his house clean unless he came back. They didn’t think he was kidnapped, but instead went off the grid for a trip. They hoped so, at least.

“No!” Jake said defensively, throwing his hands up in the air. “I think it’s a good idea! What time do those maids leave?” Jungwon had started to smile, but it faded quickly when Sunghoon started to shake his head profusely.

Sunghoon leaned off the rusted car hood, “No, no, no!” He said, waving his index finger around, “Not happening! We are not having the party at his house!”

Heeseung turned around, “I mean, it’s not a bad idea, Hoon,”

“No!” Sunghoon exclaimed, “The man is missing! We cannot have the party at a missing person’s house!”

“What kinda house is it?” Jay asked, intruding the conversation though the others were already nosy and listening in.

Sunghoon shook his head as he turned to Jay, “No, I’m not answering that—”

“Four bedroom mansion, two living rooms, three bathrooms, huge backyard with a maze and garden, large ass fountain in the front with a circular driveway,” Jake listed off loudly so Sunghoon couldn’t interrupt him anymore, “It’s the perfect house for a party!” 

It was definitely surprising how Jake knew that house so well despite never setting foot inside it, but it was easier to connect the dots on how Jake’s mother is a real estate agent and actually sold Mr Hwang that house just around the time Jake was born. 

Jake was originally born in Seoul, but because of his parents never marrying and breaking up before he was born, Jake’s mother stayed in Seoul and Jake went to live with his father in Brisbane. However, when he had just turned 9, he and his older brother moved to Seoul to stay with his mother. There, that same day, he met Jay and Jungwon and have been close with them ever since. Later, of course, he met the others and became close with them also.

Sunghoon glared, “How the hell do you know that?”

Jake shook his head, “Doesn’t matter—Like I was saying, it’s the perfect place to have a party. We can just sneak in after the maids leave and have it there! Say, Sunghoon, do you know what time the maids leave?”

“What? Why would I know that?” Sunghoon crossed his arms, “. . . 8 o’clock.” He mumbled, but Jay smiled as big as a clown.

“Then we’ll have the party at 9!” Jake exclaimed cheerfully, throwing his hands into the air excitedly before pulling them down, squeezing his fasts as he shook like a happy puppy. It was a common occurrence, but it only ever got a kick out of the guys from how similar Jake was to a puppy. To Sunghoon, however, it was kind of concerning at that moment.

“But what if someone saw us?” asked Heeseung, “Wasn’t the guy big on no trespassers?”

Sunghoon pointed to Heeseung, “That is true. He was a nice guy unless you trespassed. He gets scary,” 

Jake scoffed, “You say that like he’s going to be there. Dude is M.I.A, and since your folks are so close with him, I’m sure they wouldn’t mind a little party, right?” This was just brewing a disaster to happen, then he looked at Jungwon, “What do you say, Jungwon? Should we do it?”

Jungwon looked over at Jay, then at the others, then back at Jake. He hesitated before he let out a low sigh, “Sure. We can do it,” and as the others began to cheer, Jungwon interrupted, “But hey! If I want it to end, then we end it, okay?”

There’s a few ‘okay’s and a couple ‘of course’s spread throughout the group, but Jungwon smiled and nodded before the group went back to cheering. Jungwon still felt a little out of place, but he actually started to feel excited. A whole party just for him. Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all, maybe this party would turn out better than he ever could have imagined it to be.

He sure hoped so.

That evening, Jungwon spent most of his time studying rather than eating or talking to anyone. He left his phone on his bed as he sat at his desk, working on Literature work before he went to sleep that night. Of course, his moment of peace came to an end when a ringtone started to play instead of the music in his earbuds. He groaned and stood up, walking over to his bed to grab his phone.

He slid the answer button on the screen and held the phone up to his ear. “What do you want?”

“Jeez, could you be a little nicer?” It was Jake. “I just wanted to see what you were up to,”

“You sound like my grandma,” Jungwon laughed, earning a laugh from Jake as well, “But seriously. You never call. What’s up?”

A strong statement, but Jake knew it was true. “Well . . . about the party . . .”

“Again? I thought you guys planned it out today at the junkyard?” Jungwon sat back down at his desk, his elbows propped up on it. 

Jake was quiet for a second. “We still have everything planned out. Nothing’s changed, it’s just . . . We’re just worried you won’t have fun,”

Jungwon furrowed his eyebrows, “What are you talking about? Of course I’ll have fun. It’s a party, Jake.” There was an obvious tone in Jungwon’s voice that convinced Jake that even Jungwon wasn’t so sure how he felt about the party. He started to feel bad.

“Well I know that but still. You weren’t very big on the idea and we don’t want it to just waste your time,”

“It’s not going to waste my time,” Jungwon reassured the other, though his voice was using a bland tone so Jake wasn’t all that convinced by it, “What is wasting my time, however, is talking to you while I have homework to do.”

“Homework? Is that Jay’s new nickname?”

“Haha, very funny,” Jungwon replied sarcastically, “There’s nothing going on between us. You guys are just sick in the head,”

“I doubt that.”

Jungwon rolled his eyes, “Night Jake,”

“Night,” and the call hung up.

It wasn’t a new thing that the guys would tease Jungwon and Jay for how close they were, but they always denied everything because there was really nothing going on. It was just a harmless joke, though he’d be a liar if he said he’s never wondered about it. But everyone questions their identities so he didn’t worry about it too much. The jokes never bothered either of them, so they just let it happen.

After the call ended, Jungwon thought it was best he went to bed anyway. He was pretty tired and honestly, he didn’t like staying up too late, especially on a school night. Did that make him sound like an old person? Not that that was a bad thing. He liked being old, even though he was the second youngest of all his friends—which is kinda strange that he acts older than the others sometimes. Everyone had their own little quirks, so it didn’t bother him much. Nothing really ever did, actually. He didn’t let things bother him, or at least he didn’t show that it did. He didn’t like being seen as weak, even though he wouldn’t be, but that was just how he felt.

He didn’t worry about the party as much as he did before. He knew it could either be great or a total bust, but either way, he’d still be spending it with his best friends. 

So what’s the worst that could happen?

✧✧✧

The party was set for that weekend, which couldn’t have come quick enough. For once, Jungwon was actually excited for something in his honor. Things were turning out good—the only issue being sneaking out and then sneaking into the mansion. He didn’t like sneaking out, or the idea of it, at all. He was a rule follower, though he’d rather not ever admit that. All his friends had everything to lose—cars, riches, popularity, reputation . . . while Jungwon had nothing to lose, except his grandmother and his friends. But that never seemed to drag them down, not even Niki. He thought maybe he wouldn’t feel so different since he and Niki’s families and upbringings were similar, but Niki was just like them, maybe even worse than them at times. But Jungwon didn’t like to break rules, skip class, or even be late on turning in an assignment. He wanted things to just go smoothly, while the others lived more in the moment. Of course it made him feel isolated, but he knew he wouldn’t feel like himself if he tried to be more like them. Besides, they always understood and included him so he would never feel left out. But still, he’d feel different because he knew he was.

On Saturday, Jungwon got dressed for the party. He wore black pants, a black jacket over a black Madonna shirt, and some black Converse. He thought he looked a bit ‘emo,’ but he was sure the others would dress more casually anyways so he didn’t worry too much about how he appeared. He put on deodorant and sprayed some cologne, though some got in his mouth which made him cough really hard for a minute. He cleared his throat and grabbed his phone off the bed. He shoved it into his pocket before finally turning to the door and opening it as quietly as he could. He didn’t want to wake his grandmother up if she was already asleep. Once it was opened up enough, he stepped into the hallway and headed to the front door. There, she was sitting in the living room watching TV again, like she usually did. 

“Where are you off to?” She asks with a chirping voice, nosy but with a gentle smile. 

“Oh I’m,” he had to think of something quick, “going to stay at Jay’s for the night. Is that okay?” He raised his eyebrows, hoping she said that was okay — though he’d go either way, but he wished he wouldn’t have to sneak out — but he was relieved once her smile grew bigger.

“Of course, just make sure you’re safe, okay?” She gestured for him to come closer so he obliged and she brought him into a hug, “I love you, grandson. Be careful, and tell Jay I say hi.”

Jungwon smiled as he pulled back, “I will. I’ll be back tomorrow,” he bowed and turned away, heading out the door to see that Jay had just pulled into the driveway. His Dodge Charger was cleaner, sharper than ever. He must’ve cleaned it earlier.

Jay unlocked the doors, letting Jungwon get into the passenger seat, like always. “You ready?” He asks, looking over at the younger boy.

Jungwon nodded, “I think so,” 

“Yeah?” and Jungwon nodded again. “Jake said he’s still worried you might not be,” he looked back as he started to reverse and back out of the driveway. Jungwon drew his brows together.

“Why?”

Jay shrugged. “I think it has to do with you usually not liking parties. But this one will be good,”

Jungwon agreed, “I know. I’m excited,”

The older one smiled. “I’m glad to hear that,” he pushed the stick into drive and started to drive down the street, leaving Jungwon’s grandmother’s house and heading out to the mansion.

It was only a quarter past 8 so the maids and staff had all left by then. They were the first ones there, parking out in the back instead of the large, round driveway in front of the mansion. Jake and Sunghoon were already there, using Jake’s car, but the others had yet to arrive as well. It didn’t take long for them to, so the group headed to the mansion’s giant double doors. Sunghoon took a key out of his pocket, one he had taken from his parents, to unlock the door. They apparently had a key to Mr Hwang’s house which Sunghoon didn’t know about until just an hour ago.

Jake was the first to run in. “Oh shit!” He exclaims, “This place is huge!”

White walls, marble flooring, At the end of the entrance hallway, was a gigantic room, staircases on either side as you entered it. There was a kitchen to his left, a living room where he stood, and a foosball table to his right. Jake was in awe, but so were the others.  Above the kitchen area was the upstairs corridor that reached over to above where the guys had just come from, a fence blocking the edge though anyone could stand up there and look down into the first floor easily. 

“Would you be quiet?” Jay hushed him quickly, “What if someone’s still here?”

“No one is here,” said Niki, “No cars are here except ours. We are totally alone,” but that didn’t sound too appealing to Jungwon.

Heeseung stood by the kitchen. “Alright, can we get this party going? We said 9, right?”

Jungwon intruded. “Wait, are other people coming?”

Jake scoffed, “Duh,” he laughs, “it’s a house party, Jungwon. Of course loads of people will be here to celebrate you,” then he became quiet, “Wait, you’re okay with that right?”

Sunghoon glared, “You didn’t ask—” 

“I forgot!” Jake whisper-shouted at the other before turning back to Jungwon. “If it’s not okay, I can send out a mass-text saying we canceled it.”

“What about Kara?” Jay suddenly asked, which caused Jake to become inhumanly pale. 

Sunoo stared for a moment, “Why do you look like a ghost?” He suddenly berates the older, “Is this Kara girl a friend of yours?” 

“Y-Yeah,” Jake scratched the back of his neck, “but it’s nothing. We’re just friends,”

Heeseung rolled his eyes, “He invited her personally before inviting everyone else, then bought snacks that only she likes,” he told the others before he smirked at Jake, “He’s practically in love with her.”

“I am not!” Jake denied it immediately. “We are just friends! That’s it!” He flailed his hands around defensively, which wasn’t helping his case. Sunghoon judged but let out a laugh before turning around to Jay to talk to him as Jungwon stood by Sunoo.

“Jay, you seeing anyone?” Jungwon hears Sunghoon eventually ask Jay, but he averts his eyes and keeps talking with Sunoo, though he did his best to try and hear what Jay said in return. However, that was cut short when Heeseung walked into the kitchen, opened what he thought was the pantry, but instead found a huge wine cellar. “Guys!” Heeseung calls out for them, “He’s got a wine cellar!”

Sunoo turned and rolled his eyes, “God why do so many of them act younger than us sometimes?” He mutters to Jungwon, though the other wasn’t paying any attention. Again, lost in his thoughts, Jungwon had started to zone out and wonder how tonight was going to go. He hoped it would go well, but that wasn’t always promised.

“They have apple cider!?” Jake’s sudden shouting knocked Jungwon out of his head, returning him to reality — though he kind of wished he was in bed at home right now. 

An arm wrapped around his shoulders, pushing him forward a bit but he caught himself, though a grip on his arm latched on for a moment or two. He turned his head and saw Jay standing there beside him, side-hugging him but not letting him go. It felt nice.

“You sure you want this party?” Jay whispered to him, “We can go home if you want,” it’s almost like he could read his mind. 

Jungwon nodded, “I’m okay. It’ll be fun,” he tried to sound hopeful, “Relax,” it was obvious that Jay was worried about him then. His eyebrows were furrowed and drew in together, creasing upwards and revealing worry-lines on his cheeks and his forehead. It was very easy to read Jay, especially whenever he’s mad. His jaw would protrude and his teeth would grit while usually tightening a fist or yelling out something, then he’d touch the side or back of his head as he tried to calm down. 

Jay shook his head, “Y’know I can’t do that,” he remarked, but Jungwon smiled.

“Just try,” Jungwon said, “for me?”

Jay looked over at Jungwon, but it felt different. His eyes sparkled in a way he never noticed they did before, but nonetheless, before Jungwon could say anything else, Jay looked away and nodded. “I’ll do my best,” he replied, and then a smile appeared on his face. Jungwon didn’t catch this, but while he wasn’t looking, Jay mouthed the words ‘for you’ as he smiled. It was like second nature for the others to notice how close the two were, but it was surprising how neither of them had realized what lies behind what they believe about themselves.

Sunoo grabbed one of the bags that Jake was carrying and took out the lights. He started to hang them around the room with Jake, while Sunghoon started to put out the snacks and drinks in the kitchen, eventually asking Jay to help him. Heeseung then went up to Jungwon and asked him to accompany him as they checked the rest of the house out. Obliging, Jungwon and Heeseung went upstairs and looked around. There was a bathroom, two guest bedrooms, and the master bedroom and its own bathroom. There were a couple closets and another living room area, along with a door that led up to the attic. They didn’t really snoop around, only really peaking into each other before doing the same for the downstairs rooms. It was a really nice house, Jungwon felt pretty jealous. Heeseung didn’t seem that impressed, but his house was much bigger than Mr Hwang’s, same as Jay and Jake’s houses. Sunghoon’s was about the same, while the others’ had smaller houses. Niki had a house just like Jungwon’s—a one story, three bedroom house with two bathrooms and a small backyard. Jungwon’s was only a two bedroom house, but they lived on the same block. Niki had offered to take Jungwon to and from school plenty of times, but Jungwon would always tell him to not worry about it. It was then that Niki realized just how close Jungwon and Jay were, but he didn’t judge them. 

Back in the main room, it was 5 til 9 and a couple cars had just pulled into the driveway. Jake and Jay had run out there to figure out where people would park, while the others finished setting up for the party. At 9 exactly, everything was done. There were lights that hung from the upstairs corridor, hanging into the main room, glowing beautiful colors and brightening up the room. The speakers started to play this playlist Jake had made for the party, starting with Already Best Friends by Jack Harlow and Chris Brown.

The front doors open and people start to slowly pour in, some holding beer and others just cheering for the party. Heeseung and Sunghoon always threw the best parties, but it was always Jake and Jay who made it worth everyone’s while. Jungwon sat on the couch, drinking fruit punch in a red cup (just like the movies) as he waited for Jay and Jake to come back inside. It was going to be a while, but the others were too busy getting the party started to notice him sitting alone. He didn’t mind it, however. He knew they were busy so he didn’t mind. 

He was used to it.

✧✧✧

Sunoo never liked loud noises, especially blasting music. He was probably the only one that agreed with Jungwon that they shouldn’t have a party, but only because he didn’t like how loud parties could be. He still believed Jungwon’s achievement should be celebrated, just not with a party like this. Not that Jungwon didn’t deserve it, because he did. Sunoo just didn’t like loud things. It was just that simple.

He never liked loud spaces, that was obvious about him. He liked being in quieter, even dead silent rooms where you could hear a pin drop. The others mostly thought it was weird, though Sunghoon and Jay kinda agreed but they didn’t like it all the time, not like Sunoo.

Now, as he sat alone in this one room, apart from everyone else, he drank his fruit punch out of his glass—which he took from the wine glass cabinet because he felt more obligated to do so than the others—and sat in this chair by a short table. He messed with the bracelet on his wrist some, it was one his older sister made for him when they were little. There was no door to this room, which he thought was weird because it had a bed inside it. Maybe it was a guest room, he wasn’t sure.

It was kind of stupid of him to assume he’d be able to stay alone as Niki came into the room and sat beside him, panting like he had been partying for hours on end. His once very combed hair was now messy, almost like a bed-head, and his eyes were narrow, but maybe it was because this room was so much more dim than the other rooms. Sunoo thought the younger boy looked funny, so he chuckled. “Having fun?” He teases.

Niki gives him a glare. “More than you are, apparently,” he remarks, “What are you doing in here?”

“What does it look like?” Sunoo took a sip of his glass, “I’m relaxing.”

“You can’t relax at a party,” Niki replied quickly, “Unless it’s with weed.”

Sunoo scoffed, “You’re such an addict,” 

But Niki didn’t think it was funny. “I’m not an addict. I don’t smoke that often anyways. Not like— Like—” He struggled to name anyone else, though once he did, his voice got louder, “Like Jake or Sunghoon! They smoke so much the neighbors think something’s burning.”

That wasn’t true. Jake and Sunghoon only socially smoked, though that may just be as bad as a smoke or two every other day. Niki smoked a couple times throughout the week, really to keep his mind off things and not to worry so much. His carefree side, really, though he’d never admit to anyone how much better he feels when he’s high. He doesn’t like to be called an addict, he doesn’t like to be unintentionally compared to his father. 

The older raised his eyebrow, “Don’t they only smoke at parties?”

“Hell if I know,” Niki sat back in his chair, “I just don’t smoke that much. Plus, anyways we have to be careful. You know how Jungwon feels about this kind of shit,” 

“I love Jungwon to death, but are you really letting how he feels about shit, dictate how you go on about your life? You sound like a kiss-ass,” it was abundantly clear how blunt Sunoo was, though Niki was used to it. He was Sunoo’s oldest friend. 

“I’m not a kiss-ass, wise-ass,” He remarked back at Sunoo, “and for your information, I don’t smoke that much, not because of Jungwon, but because of Jay.”

“What difference does that make?”

“Jungwon swore it off because of shit he won’t tell us, but Jay quit smoking and I try to stay respectful of that. He’s worked hard,” Niki explained, then he turned, “How dare you call me a kiss-ass.”

Sunoo shrugged, “If the shoe fits,” 

Niki rolled his eyes. 

“Can I ask you something?”

“What?” Niki looked over, though Sunoo was staring at his glass, almost dissociated.

He was quiet for a moment, before he parted his lips and let out a quick sigh before looking over at Niki. “What really happened with your parents this time?”

Niki looked away. “I told you. It was the smoking,” which kind of contradicted his earlier statement about how little he smokes, but that wasn’t what Sunoo caught on about it.

“Oh to hell with that—Your parents are addicts, how could they be pissed about you smoking when they were cooking up meth in the kitchen your whole life.” It was such a blunt way to describe it, and it sure as hell caught Niki off guard. Though, he knew Sunoo was right.

Niki’s parents were addicts, former meth-chefs, though still, very much addicts. They’d get onto Niki for everything under the sun, which is why he always ran away or got kicked out, though it wasn’t long until he’d move right back in again. He’s learned to cope with it, though it’s always thrown in his face for how much of a “failure” he was, despite the obvious factors of how Niki was one of the only two people who got a scholarship to such a prestigious private academy, but of course, his parents never gave a damn about it, or even Niki for that matter. The others felt bad for him, but Niki couldn’t care less. He didn’t care about them anymore than they cared about him. He only ever went back to them because of his siblings. If he could take them with him, he would in a heartbeat. But they’d never leave their parents. He knew that too well.

“I don’t know, they’re fucking weird,” Niki answered, “I never know what they’re going to do or say next. You think you’d know that by now, after the countless amount of times I’ve had to stay with you or Jake over the last year alone.”

Sunoo stared at him. “My house will always be a home to you, but you need to straighten things out with your parents. Either make amends, or move the hell out. Emancipate, even.”

Niki scoffed, “You really think they’d let me emancipate myself? You’re hilarious.”

“Look, it’s not a bad idea,” Sunoo told him, and he softened his voice before he spoke again in a whisper, “I just want you safe.”

The other sighed and turned his head away. “I’ll talk to them tomorrow. Okay?”

Sunoo reached over his hand with his pinky pointed out, “Promise?”

Niki groaned and he hooked his pinky with Sunoo’s, “Promise.”

Sunoo pulled back, “Good. Now that that’s settled, could you get me more fruit punch?” He basically shoves the glass into Niki’s hand before he could even answer. Niki rolled his eyes and nodded before he stood up and headed out of the room, leaving Sunoo alone once again.

✧✧✧

Outside, Jay and Jake were helping the cars find places to park without absolutely destroying Mr Hwang’s yard. Thankfully, nobody had to. Eventually, Jay told Jake to head inside and get the party started while he finished up helping all the cars. After a while, the last car parked so Jay took a second to recuperate before returning to the party. He took out a lollipop, sticking it into his mouth and throwing the wrapper away in the outside trash can before walking in through the garage. Inside the house, he walked down a long, red-lit hallway, people scattered along the way. Most of them greeted him, some even dabbed him up. Everyone knew Jay. If you didn’t, well, you probably just weren’t as cool as everyone else then. Kidding—but seriously, everyone knew Jay, like everyone knew Heeseung, and Sunghoon, and all the rest of them. Even not knowing Jungwon was a surprise, but it’d be hard not to know him if you already knew Jay. They were basically attached at the hip.

At the end of the hall, right where the room blends into the center room, Jay sees Heeseung standing against a pillar, talking to some girl Jay didn’t recognize. In the corner of his eye, Heeseung sees the other and waves him over. Jay, hesitantly, obliges, though he greets the girl first with a quick bow, then a dab-up with Heeseung. The girl eventually walked away, but before Jay could say anything, Heeseung turned to him first.

“You seen Jungwon?” 

“No, I’ve had other priorities,” Jay was quick to respond, which was pretty normal. Though, his demeanor changed. “Why? Is something wrong with him?” There was a quick pause in his breath, a shift in his eyes. Heeseung always noticed it, but the others never believed him. 

“No, I don’t think so,” Heeseung lightly shoved Jay playfully, “Calm down, man.” He teased, but it didn’t feel like a joke—or at least that it was taken that way. He looked over and saw some of the others standing near the center of the room, “Come on, we need to get wasted,” 

Jay smiled then, and the two walked over to the others, arms around each other, as if they were already tipsy, though all they’ve had was fruit punch. They all stand in a circle, but the only person that’s missing is—“Where’s Jungwon?” Jay questioned the others.

Sunoo spoke up first, “I think he’s in the bathroom.”

“It’s a little too loud in here,” Jake commented, “Should we celebrate in another room?” The room was crowded, loud, and very bright. “It might make it easier for Jungwon,”

Sunghoon nodded, “Good idea. And Niki, would you be careful with the cake please?” He remarks at the younger, earning a sour look from the boy.

“I’m careful!” He says just before his shoe scoots against the floor, almost making him trip. He gathers himself and clears his throat, “I’m careful,” he repeats to Sunghoon before walking out into the dining room with the others following behind him. The cake was chocolate with vanilla icing, red whipped cream, and one single red and white candle on top. It was empty in that room, only a china cabinet or two inside, with a large round dining table with seven seats exactly. Niki sets the cake right in the middle, and the others take their seats, leaving one empty seat right in front of the windows for Jungwon to sit in. 

It took a minute before Jungwon made his way to the room, taking his seat with a big smile plastered on his face. Like a clown. He took his seat, still smiling as he scooted it closer to the table. Heeseung lit the candles with Niki’s lighter, though it didn’t even pass Jungwon’s mind about the reason why Niki had a lighter, but that was because he was just so enraptured by the cake in front of him. After a count of ten from his friends, Jungwon blew out the candles and the others clapped. For a moment, Jungwon wished time would stop and that he could stay right there forever. Timeless, almost. 

What struck him out of his thoughts was a sudden sound from behind him, he turned back as the others continued to talk. It sounded like something, a rock maybe, was thrown at the edge of the window, it didn’t hit the glass, he thought, it would’ve been easier to recognize. When he turned back to the others, he realized he was the only one who had heard it, which almost convinced him that he was crazy. Almost.

“Jeez, this party’s getting out of control,” Heeseung comments under his breath when the room gets suddenly quiet after a bunch of yelling is heard from the other room. 

“Would it be bad to say that the punch was spiked?” Sunghoon suddenly asked, earning a weird look from everyone else. “What?” He leaned back, “I didn’t know until just now,” he says as he sips on his drink.

Jay stared. “If it’s spiked then why are you still drinking it?”

Sunghoon glanced at him before looking at his cup for a good minute. “It’s good,” he shrugged and continued to drink it. 

Heeseung rolled his eyes, “Anyways. Let’s get back to the party. Hey, Jake, maybe your girlfriend’s here!”

Jake turned to him quickly. “No, she’s not!” Then he cleared his throat, “And she’s not my girlfriend.” He corrected the older, but he just laughed. 

“Whatever you say, Jake,” and the group rose from their seats and started to leave the room. Jungwon stayed behind and cut his cake, though he wasn’t alone for long. Jake actually stayed behind and sat beside Jungwon, cutting himself a piece as well and eating it with him. Jungwon and Jake were pretty close as well, he was the second one who Jungwon had met, with Jay being the first (obviously). They always got along more than Jay and Jungwon did, since they would always bicker like a married couple yet spend every waking day together (again, like a married couple—hence the teasing). 

In a long list of ways, Jake was a lot like Jay. There were more differences than similarities, but even the similarities appeared more than the differences ever could. Jay was more concluded, to himself and away from most people, while Jake was way more outgoing, he liked to socialize and get along with people, it made him feel included. But despite how talkative Jake could be, when he stopped talking, it usually meant he didn’t want to talk anymore. That was another thing that made him and Jay so alike. They both would just stop talking, almost like they were raised by the same trauma-ridden parents, but they both had such a perfect lives, except the split between their parents—which they both basically bonded over. 

With a mouth full of cake, Jungwon turned to Jake and asked him, “Why are you in here with me?” His voice was muffled, but Jake weirdly understood him clearly.

“Why would I leave you alone at your own party?” Jake took another bite, “Plus this cake is the absolute shit,” 

“Yeah, but everyone else left.”

“They’re lonely and want to seem like they get bitches so they get bitches. Or at least, Sunghoon and Heeseung do that. Sunoo couldn’t care less, Niki is probably—” He cut himself off, trying not to just outright say that Niki was probably smoking, knowing how Jungwon felt about smoking, though he’s known about Niki’s smoking for almost a week now, “—hanging with Jay who is probably standing by a wall trying to act like he’s all tough and shit,”

Jungwon shrugged, “Maybe,” and he took another bite. 

Jake hummed. “You alright?”

Jungwon nodded.

“You sure? You seem kinda off, Won.”

“I’m fine,” Jungwon replied, “I think I’m just tired.”

“Do you want to go home?”

“No, no,” Jungwon shook his head, “I don’t want to ruin the vibe,”

Jake raised his eyebrow, “Ruin what vibe? It’s a party,”

“Yeah, a party for me,” The younger said, “I can’t just leave. What about the guys? They’re having fun, and I don’t want to ruin that.”

“That shouldn’t matter,” said Jake, “Don’t force yourself to stay here for them. I can take you home,”

But Jungwon shook his head, “No, no, it’s okay, I promise. It’s just a little overwhelming but I’m fine. It’s okay in here,” he glances around, then he looks back at Jake, “Don’t you want to join them?”

Jake shrugged, “Partying has never really been my thing,” then he sipped on his water, “And I’m kinda waiting on Kara to get here first,”

“And you’re not dating?”

A pink color flushed across Jake’s cheeks, “Trying to.”

Jungwon looked over at him almost immediately, “So you do like her!”

“Well duh,” Jake laughed, “She’s beautiful, and kind, and smart and funny,” there was a curving smile on his lips, one that wasn’t going to go away for hours, “I just didn’t want to tell the guys just yet,”

“Why? They won’t make fun of you,”

“Yeah but they’re so lonely,”

Jungwon laughed, “True, very true,”

Jake looked at the clock on the wall, “It’s only been forty minutes since the party started? I swear it’s been hours,” he comments. Jungwon shrugs in response. “It’s only 9.”

“I’m not surprised,” Jungwon says, leaning back in his chair, “Today’s been slow as hell.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Jake shrugged. “You sure you’re alright?”

Jungwon nodded, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

But Jake didn’t say anything. That meant the conversation was over.

✧✧✧

After three drinks that felt like seven, Jay found himself stumbling into the master bedroom. He didn’t know how he made it all the way up the stairs, nor did he even remember if he did or not, but his thoughts faded as he lay on the bed, plopping down like he had given up. His alcohol tolerance was usually higher, but today just felt so weird. He didn’t feel like himself. Did someone spike the alcohol? Can someone actually do that? So many questions were racing through his mind. But his head was pounding, he couldn’t think clearly.

The master bedroom was painted a light blue, not exactly baby blue, but around it. It had white borders halfway up the walls. The furniture was antique, though the bed-frame looked straight out of an episode of Bridgerton. It was almost too fancy for Jay’s liking. Not that his opinion mattered, this wasn’t his house, though maybe it didn’t belong to anyone anymore.

There, on the bed, Jay sunk into the mattress. He felt so cozy, enough to drift asleep at any moment. But his stomach started to ache so he sat up and walked over to the bathroom quickly, fast enough to make it in case he threw up, but the pain faded after a moment or two and he leaned against the closed bathroom door, still standing in the bedroom. His eyes glanced around the room more, noticing more and more. There was not a single photo hanging up, except one that sat on the dresser. Curiously, he walked over to it and grabbed it. 

It was a photo of Mr Hwang and his wife. She was beautiful, but stupidly, he started to wonder why he hadn’t seen any other photos around the house. Why was it just this one? It was just a photo of them together in front of the house, it may have been special to them but was it special enough to only have this one sitting out? Not a single wedding photo, family portrait—he had kids—nothing at all, except that one. Jay didn’t understand. But it wasn’t his business.

Of course, he didn’t care, so he started to snoop. In the dresser, there weren’t any clothes at all. Instead, there were notebooks, letters, photos (some framed, some not), with an insane amount of torn up pieces of old photos thrown all over the inside of the drawer, but what caught his eye the most was an amulet, a crimson-colored ruby in the middle, embroidered with pure silver with Ochiul Lui Lucifer was engraved into said silver. It was beautiful, so mesmerizing. As Jay was drunker than a homeless guy on New Year's Eve, he put the amulet around his neck and went to look at himself in the mirror. There, he stood in the bathroom, admiring himself as he smelt of booze, but he couldn’t care less. He was, in fact, too drunk to care. 

“Jay! Where are you?!”

He heard Sunghoon call in the distance. Jay quickly hid the medallion behind his shirt and headed out of the room. The silver was cold against his bare chest, but after a moment, it became warm. He met with Sunghoon in the corridor, who immediately asked him how much he had to drink, and when he gave him the honest answer of 3, Sunghoon shook his head and called him a liar under his breath, hoping that Jay was too drunk to hear him. 

Just like before, his stomach started to turn again, but it didn’t hurt. It just felt so weird, and his muscles started to strain, his eyes becoming watery. He stopped walking suddenly, Sunghoon stopped too and helped him stand up straight. “Dude,” he started to say, “Did you have too much to drink?” He knew the answer, yet he still asked.

But Jay shook his head, “N-No, I’ve only had three drinks, I told you. I just—” He shuddered, “I feel sick.” 

Sunghoon tried to lean away as he helped Jay down the steps, “Keep your vomit inside until I get at least 50 feet away from you, will you?” Though Jay didn’t reply aloud, he nodded and that helped Sunghoon feel a little better, despite his fear of being vomited on still growing with each groan Jay let out as they walked. 

In the center room, the others were all spread across the room, talking with either each other or other people, though it was quick for Jungwon to notice the terribly drunken Jay being held up by Sunghoon. He headed over to them, Sunoo following him, then Niki and then Heeseung and Jake. 

“Is he okay?” Jungwon asks, “Are you okay?” He places his hand on Jay’s bicep, his thumb rubbing itself against his sleeve, trying to get his attention, yet he hadn’t realized that he already had all of it. Always did. 

“I’m fine,” Jay forced himself to stand upright, ignoring the sharp pain in his stomach that only grew worse and worse. The look on Jungwon’s face didn’t change, though it shifted a bit as his eyebrows started to crease, knotting together. He knew that look. “I’m okay,” but it was a lie, it was clear as day. He wasn’t okay at all, and Jungwon knew that. There was no way he didn’t. It was almost second nature to him, Jungwon could read Jay like a book, the same way Jay could read him. Sometimes, you would think the two knew more about each other than what they know about themselves. To them, that wasn’t true, but to everyone else, it was their reality.

“Don’t lie to me,” Jungwon remarked, quite loudly actually, “How much did you have to drink?”

“Three cups, that’s it.” 

“Jay.”

“Only three!” But just as he exclaimed that, that sharp pain came back, worse this time. He folded and clutched his stomach tight, “I feel so sick,” He grumbled. Jungwon held him up, he practically flew into him the moment he started to clutch his stomach. “I want to go home,” his voice was quiet, soft, breaking as his eyes turned shiny. He swore he felt his heart break.

“Stop the party,”

“What?” Heeseung perked his head up, and the others all turned to Jungwon.

“I said, stop the party,” he repeated, his voice clear, stern. Jake didn’t hesitate.

Jake headed over to the kitchen, turning off the music from his phone before he got onto the island and stood there, getting everyone’s attention. “Alright, I’m sorry to break it to you all, but we gotta cut this party short tonight. We’ll have another soon, but we have a bit of an emergency so it’s for the best that we put a stop to this party now and continue it later on.”

There were a bunch of groans and boo’s, but everyone pretty much left. The place was a bit of a mess, not too bad since the party had only really lasted an hour. Jake walked over to the others again as most of them were sitting on the couches, “Sunghoon and Jungwon, could you guys take Jay home? The rest of us can hang out here and clean up,”

But Jay shook his head, “No, n-no, I can’t get up,” he stuttered, shuddering and rubbing his arms. Was he cold? But it felt so hot in there. He was leaning against Jungwon, trying to keep himself sitting up but he was struggling. “I feel so bad,”

“Should we call an ambulance?” Sunoo asked, “This sounds serious, guys.”

“What’s even more serious is staying a night in jail for underage drinking,” said Sunghoon, “We are not calling an ambulance.”

“Why not? We have bail-out money,” said Heeseung.

Niki scoffed, “So you have bail-out money, but not rent-a-venue money so we just had to have a party in a house that belongs to a family friend of Sunghoon’s? Who—I might add—has been missing for two months now?” He remarked at the others, folding his arms as he leaned back against his chair. Sunoo, beside him, shrugged in agreement.

Jake sighed, “Let’s not get off track. What are we doing then, Jay?”

Jay took a minute to reply. “We could just stay here tonight,” 

Jungwon nodded, “Yeah, maybe he can sleep whatever this is off and we can get out of here before dawn tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow is Sunday,” Sunghoon added, which confused the others. When nobody said anything and all of them just stared at him, Sunghoon furrowed his eyebrows. “The maids are off on Sundays, they won’t be here until Monday.”

“Alright so we stay here tonight and clean the house tomorrow and be out of here by tomorrow night?” Jake described what seemed to be the perfect plan. Everyone nodded in agreement. “Let’s get our beds set up and we’ll go ahead and get to sleeping. Jay can sleep on the couch and Niki, I’m going to assume you’re sleeping in that chair?”

Niki stared at him, “Does it look like I’ll be leaving this chair anytime soon?”

Jake blinked, “Okay it was a question, don’t be rude,” he cleared his throat, “I’ll be back, I’ll go get some of the bedding from the bedrooms,” and he headed off. Jungwon stood up from the couch and helped Jay carefully lay down fully on the couch, placing one of the throw pillows beneath his head. The others settled in quickly, all falling asleep to the quietness of the house that once echoed with loud music and consistent talking. Now, you could hear a pin drop. It was so calming, so peaceful, but as Jungwon lay on the floor beside the couch, with a part of him scared Jay might turn over and just puke on him, but the other part of him worried for him. He hoped he was okay, that this was all just a bad reaction to alcohol. He hoped, more than anything, that tonight would not end with losing him.

✧✧✧

An hour passed. Everyone was asleep. The house was cold, but the blankets were so thick, even Jungwon felt hot. But he still slept peacefully, like everyone else. They all slept in that center room, most of them on the floor, which they didn’t mind, but it was about 10 and yet Jay had woken back up. He was usually a deep sleeper, but his stomach hurt so bad, he was surprised he even fell asleep at all. He sat up on the couch, the pain traveling up to his chest. For a moment, there was clarity where the pain had stopped, but then it came back, worse this time, causing him to gasp and grab his chest. Then, the pain stopped, but he felt different, yet he felt the same as he’s always been. Confused, he shook his head but stood up from the couch. He thought he would take a walk around the house to clear his mind. 

When he got up, however, his mind wandered and his heart slowed. He didn’t know what that was, but he stumbled for a second, causing him to slightly bump into Sunoo who slept beside Jungwon. Once Jay had left the center room and entered the kitchen, that was when Sunoo woke up himself and got up. He made sure he didn’t wake up anyone when he did. Curiously, he went to follow Jay, but when he got there, Jay wasn’t there. Though still filled with curiosity and now worry, Sunoo walked through the hallway that was connected to the kitchen. It was dark, only the dim kitchen light slightly reflected into the room. At the end of the hallway, the bathroom light was on, and the door was closed, but the outline still briefly shone into the hall. He stood in front of the door, raising his fist to knock. “Jay?”

“Just a minute,” he hears Jay say through the door. The sink runs for a minute, before it stops and the door opens. There, Jay stood and Sunoo’s face shifted. “What?”

“Are—” Sunoo cleared his throat, “Are you okay? Are you feeling better?”

Jay stepped out of the bathroom, “Yeah. Yeah, I think,” his voice sounded weird, “What are you doing up? Did you have to use the bathroom, too?”

Sunoo shook his head, “No, I just wanted to check on you,” he paused for a moment before he sighed, “Listen. I know things have been tough lately, and I know you didn’t want to talk about this kind of stuff,” he hadn’t realized the darkened expression that appeared on Jay’s face as he was talking, “but I’m always here for you, Jay. You’re one of my best friends and I—”

“What are you talking about?” Little Sunoo giggled as he sat in the sandbox with his older sister, “Why would the castle have only one knight? It’s a big castle,”

She rolled her eyes, “Well, what if one knight wanted to marry the princess?” She suggests, holding one of the knight figurines in her hand with the princess figurine in the other, “Couldn’t he do that?” 

Sunoo looked at her, confused, “But what about protecting the castle? What about the Queen? And the King?” He tightened the bracelet on his wrist a little since it kept getting caught on the figurines, but his sister didn’t seem to notice.

“They’ll be protected, but the princess needs to be protected, too.”

“She’s not being protected, she’s getting a husband.”

“And?”

“And nothing,” said Sunoo sharply, “Not all husbands protect their wives.”

His sister looked at him, her eyes shining with her broken heart. She didn’t expect him to say such a thing, not then, maybe not ever. But he was just a kid, he didn’t know any better.

It was nothing that Sunoo would have known about his sister’s future, or even the present then. His sister had always picked the wrong boy to fall in love with, not that it was ever her intention, but she never fought to leave them either. Sunoo cherished the bracelet she gave him with all his heart, he loved his sister so much. She was his best friend, his everything. But now, in the present days, they haven’t spoken in two years.

She furrowed her brows, “I don’t want to play this anymore,” she grabbed the toys and put them into his backpack. “Come on, let’s go play on the swings,” she reached her hand to him and he took it, hesitantly, before grabbing the backpack and heading over to the swings with his older sister as their mother watched from the bench, alone just like she always had been.

His words were cut short, one of Jay’s hands gripped his arm so tight, holding him there, captive in his grip, but the other held a knife, which had been stabbed into his abdomen, cutting the skin, spilling blood. He choked, grabbing onto Jay with tears pouring from his eyes, blood starting to spew from his mouth. 

“Jay,” he whispers, “W-What are you doing?” It was a stupid question, wasting what may be his last breaths on such a simple, unspecified question. But the older looked him in his eyes, a hint of red glowing in the dark brown, and Sunoo had never been more scared in his life. 

Jay, with a dark smile, leaned over and whispered softly, lowly, into Sunoo’s ear.

“I am becoming God.” 

✧✧✧

It was a squeak from a sneaker against a wooden floor that woke Jungwon up. It was distant, from another room, but he still heard it. He had always been a light sleeper, something he hated more than he ever enjoyed. He sat up, yawning. He looked around, but quickly noticed that both Jay and Sunoo were gone. He reached over to Sunghoon, shaking him awake. For a moment, he didn’t, but after a few more shakes, with some aggressive ones, Sunghoon eventually sat up and turned to Jungwon. “What? What could you possibly want?” He was definitely not a morning person. 

“Jay and Sunoo are gone,” Jungwon told him.

Sunghoon looked over at him, but he didn’t say anything. He quickly stood up and Jungwon did the same. Then, the two went on to find their friends while the others continued to sleep peacefully, without a single thought of worry in their little heads at all. 

Through the kitchen and down the hall, they couldn’t see a thing. Stupidly, they continued on until Jungwon stopped suddenly when a weird, quiet splash sound Sunghoon took out his phone and turned on the flashlight, but as it was pointing to the floor, the first thing they saw was a puddle of blood. 

Jungwon gasped but Sunghoon slowly raised his phone along the smeared blood down the hall, shining the flashlight up the wall at the end of the hallway, seeing what appeared to be their own friend, his hands and legs nailed to the wall, covered in his own blood. Crucified, perhaps. Beneath his hovering feet, a pentagram-like circle was drawn out on the floor, with what they could only assume was blood. It was literally like a ritual. Sunghoon dropped his phone at the sight of it, and Jungwon screamed, so loud, he screamed. 

The others woke up immediately, all jumping up and running to find whoever had just screamed, finding Jungwon and Sunghoon in the dark hallway. Heeseung flipped the light on, seeing the same as the others had seen before. 

“Sunoo . . .” Niki stepped back, his eyes widening. 

“What the fuck—” Heeseung pushed through the others, then he turned back and looked at Jungwon and Sunghoon. “What the fuck happened?”

Jungwon snapped out of his thoughts and looked at Heeseung, furrowing his eyebrows. “I don’t . . . I don’t know. I woke up because I heard something but Jay and Sunoo weren’t here so we went to find them a-and . . .” He hitched his breath, “Oh god.” He put his face into his hands and started to breathe heavily, “Do we call the police? What do we do?”

Heeseung nodded, “Yeah. We’ll call the police—”

The light suddenly shut off, it became pitch black again. They looked around frantically, while Heeseung tried to get back to the lightswitch to turn the lights back on. To his surprise, it didn’t work. The power had gone out.

“The power’s out,” Heeseung told the others, “Do you think this place has a backup generator?” He looked at Sunghoon specifically as he grabbed his phone off the ground and kept the flashlight on.

“There should be,” said Sunghoon, “Every house on this street has one. But we shouldn’t worry about that. We should leave before anyone else gets hurt,”

But as everyone starts heading out, Jungwon stops, “Wait, what about Jay? We have to find Jay,” but when the others didn’t say anything, Jungwon’s breath slowed before he took a deep breath, “Fine. If you won’t go look for him, then I’ll do it myself.”

“Like hell, you do,” Sunghoon stepped in front of him. “You’re not going alone. We’ll find him—together.”

Jungwon nodded, but then he turned back to Sunoo’s body and stepped closer to it. The others watched him, silently, but Niki stepped through them and walked up beside Jungwon. He reached up and untied the bracelet from Sunoo’s wrist and held it to his chest. “I’ll protect her,” he whispered, “Rest easy, my friend.” And he backed away. Jungwon stood there another moment before he did as well, following the others back into the center room. Sunghoon and Heeseung headed off to the front door to get help from the neighbors first while Jake and Niki tried to figure out where the generator was to the house since there was no basement.

Heeseung and Sunghoon quickly returned, however. Apparently all the outside doors were locked, even the door to the garage so there was no way they could get in there in case the generators were in there. The only outside door that was left unlocked was the back door.

“Are you saying we have to go out there?” Sunghoon questioned Niki, “Do you not realize what the hell is out there?”

Niki shook his head, “No, but please, please give us the insight, old wise one!” He mocked the older, groaning before he sat down in the chair, just like before. It may appear that Niki wasn’t that much affected by the death of Sunoo, but inside, Jungwon knew Niki was terrified, grieving their best friend without trying to worry the others. Niki never handled his emotions well, but today he did. Maybe it was a final toast to Sunoo. 

Jungwon stood behind the couch where Heeseung and Jake sat. Sunghoon stood in front of the four, trying to figure out a plan to get out of the house and get help. 

“In the backyard, there’s a maze. It leads out to the shed and the pool, and most likely, the generators are in the pool house,” Sunghoon explained to them, “As long as we get through the maze to turn the power back on, we can call the police and get the hell out of here.”

“Why the hell does this dude have a maze in his backyard?” Jake questioned Sunghoon, as if he had any idea.

“I don’t know! Rich people have weird shit!” An understatement, honestly.

“Okay wait, are we all going through the maze?” Jake asked, “Or are we splitting up?”

Niki scoffed, “What is this? Scooby-Doo?” 

Heeseung shrugged. “It’s not a bad idea,” he says, “Sunghoon and I can head out to the pool house, and you guys can keep looking for Jay?”

Jungwon nodded, and both Jake and Heeseung stood up. Niki sat for another minute before he took out the bracelet that belonged to Sunoo and he tied it around his wrist. Jungwon watched as the other three had already started to walk outside. When Niki got done tying it, he stood up and walked outside with Jungwon to join the others, not knowing what could be waiting for them, how this night might end, or more importantly, when they’ll know the truth.

The moon was full, bright and white. It looked bigger than usual, it almost filled the sky. Jungwon felt uneasy, the sight of his best friend’s body still living in his eyes. He couldn’t stop thinking about it. He kept wondering, asking himself—Who could have done such a thing to another human being? It was so macabre, so bloody and violent. It was straight out a horror movie, and it did not help at all that it was his own best friend that turned out to be the victim. He couldn’t stop thinking about who may be next, who will be killed—no, slaughtered—next.

He hoped Jay hadn’t been killed, that he was okay, that he was only hiding. He wanted to call out for his friend, but they weren’t sure where the killer had gone. He didn’t want to lead the killer right to them, wherever they were. But he still hoped, wherever he was, that Jay was okay. 

Outside, the group stood on the back deck. Jungwon, Niki, and Jake all stood back as Heeseung and Sunghoon headed towards the tall, bush-wall maze, belonging to a man who’s been missing for months. Why did he let them do this party? We shouldn’t be here. We never should have come. Jake looked over at Jungwon and Niki, folding his arms. “Should we go look for Jay?” He asked.

Niki looked at the maze, “Shouldn’t we wait for them? What if the killer is out there? Or inside the house?” He glanced at Jungwon, “I’m sure Jay’s fine. He’s tough. Maybe he made it out and went to get help,” it was a suggestion, but that didn’t necessarily mean it was possible.

Jungwon lowered his head, but Jake stepped forward. “We’ll find him,” he looked over at Jungwon and smiled at him, “swear to it.”

He nodded. Niki turned to the house, “You think he’s in there?” 

Jake shrugged. “He’s smart. Maybe he did make it out and went to get help,”

Jungwon shook his head, “He would’ve come to tell us, or we would’ve at least heard the door. He has to be hiding somewhere,”

“Good point,” Jake agreed. 

Niki turned away. “What if he’s not . . .” He paused, a moment of silence that ached Jungwon’s heart more than he’s ever felt before, “What if he was killed, too?”

Jake shut him down quick, “Don’t say that. He could be alive,”

“But we can’t get our hopes up,” Jungwon intruded, lowering his head, “Shit happens.”

Jake started to frown, but Niki didn’t get it. “We still need to find him, even if that’s true, even if it’s not. We have to find—”

A screech of a man echoes through the maze, through the yard. Their heads turn like a reflex, eyes wide like a doll’s. Oh this was the end, Jungwon thought, but he knew he should never say it aloud. That scream was deafening, no doubt that it was Sunghoon, despite its higher pitch. But it was Heeseung. Heeseung was a quiet screamer, and it was weird that Jungwon knew that, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was that tonight may just be their last. 

✧✧✧

“This was a terrible idea,” 

“Stop being dramatic,” said Heeseung, scoffing at his friend. 

Sunghoon clutched his chest, offended—“Dramatic? Our friend was murdered, our other friend is missing, and the killer is still out there, but I’m being dramatic? Yeah, okay.”

Heeseung rolled his eyes, “You are just proving my point there, Hoon.” 

Half way through the maze, there was a fountain and two ways to go. Sunghoon huffed and turned to Heeseung, “Which way should we go?”

“Let’s split up,”

“Are you fucking joking?”

“God, Hoon—It’ll be fine.” Heeseung patted his shoulder, “I’ll go right and you go left, and if you get spooked, just find your way back to the fountain and go down my way. Okay?”

Sunghoon stared at him, but eventually nodded. “Okay.” 

Heeseung smiled, and the two parted ways. Heeseung had gone right like he said, walking through the maze as far as he could until eventually he made it to a two way stop again. He huffed, but went left for the hell of it. Unfortunately, he ended up at a dead end so he turned around to walk the other way when he stopped, seeing a figure in the distance. He could barely see his face, but he knew who it was. His breath hitched, a wave of relief washed over him when he saw it was only Jay, slowly walking towards him with a smile on his face. “Oh, Jay, thank god you’re okay,” Heeseung placed his hand on his chest, sighing, “Where’ve you been?”

“I was in the pool house,” said Jay, chuckling. “I got so scared. I didn’t know where to go. When Sunoo, I—” 

Heeseung shushed him, “I know, I know. I was actually coming to turn the power back on. Isn’t it weird they have a generator in the pool house?”

“Oh, it’s not in there,” 

“It’s not?” Heeseung cursed under his breath, “Do you know where it’s at?”

Jay shrugged, but it was still too dark to see him, he still stood far back from Heeseung. “Maybe the garage? Or a closet inside the house,”

Heeseung nodded, “You’re right. Let’s get Sunghoon and head back,” but Jay stopped him just as he started to walk. “What?” Heeseung furrowed his eyebrows. “What is it?”

Jay stared at him, and for a split second, Heeseung saw red flash in his eyes. Taken back, Heeseung draws his eyebrows together, but he doesn’t say anything. Jay didn’t say a word for a moment, but then the power turned back on, and so did the maze’s light posts with one being almost directly in between the two. There, Heeseung saw the blood that stained Jay’s clothes and skin. There, he realized that Jay was never hiding. Instead, he was the one they should have been hiding from this whole time. He was the killer. He killed Sunoo, his own friend, and by the cold look in his eyes, Heeseung knew his fate. He knew it too well.

“I do not like this,” 

Little Heeseung laughed, “Why? I think it’s fun,” he says, placing down another playing card onto the small pile, “Go fish.”

Little Sunghoon groaned, “You win,” he tossed the cards at Heeseung, “Again.” He leaned back and crossed his arms, “You’re such a cheater,”

“And you’re such a sore loser,” Heeseung chuckles, picking up the cards. Sunghoon stifled his laugh but didn’t say anything. Heeseung and Sunghoon were just little kids then, sitting on the floor as they played Go Fish while they waited to be picked up by their parents. Sunghoon’s parents were always in the back of the line because they didn’t like to come so early and wait for so long. 

Heeseung looked up and saw the teacher walk back into the building, wagging her finger at Sunghoon, mouthing his name to get his attention. He grabbed his backpack and stood up, holding onto one of the straps. “Are you sure you don’t want to ride home with me?”

The other nodded, “I’m okay,” he told him, “She’ll be here any minute,” he smiled. Sunghoon waved goodbye and left, while Heeseung sat alone, but this wasn’t nearly the first time at all. It was an understatement how neglectful his parents were, they always paid attention to his older brother and their jobs, never about Heeseung. He spent more time with the maid than he ever has with his mother. He hated it, but he’s gotten used to it.

That day, they never came. Again, not the first time. But it was the last time as Heeseung told Sunghoon about it the following day, as Sunghoon always asks how he got home and was completely appalled when Heeseung told him he walked all the way home by himself—again. Sunghoon then promised Heeseung that he would always have a home there with his family, but even then, Heeseung knew it wasn’t his home. His home was where his pain started, the neglectfulness of a parent that swore they loved him with all their heart. He learned to ignore it, move past it, make the best out of it, even if it still hurts. 

His home was nowhere to be seen, but he didn’t care. He was a kid, and even without a home, Heeseung was still happy. He had his friends, the people at school, he made good grades, he was happy. He knew he would have made his parents proud if they ever paid any attention to him. But Ms. Kwan, the maid, always told him how proud of him she was. Her opinion was the only one that ever mattered to Heeseung. The only one that ever will.

His eyes wide, stepping back away but with a quick motion, a knife cuts his stomach. The cut was deep, his intestines started to hang out. He started to choke, blood pouring from his stomach and his mouth as he held his stomach, frozen but shaking. Jay smirked. “I’m sorry,” he spoke coldly, his voice hoarse, grabbing onto him, “I slipped,” and he stabbed him again, letting go of him so Heeseung would fall to the ground. 

“J-Jay—”

“It’s no hard feelings, alright?” His voice was deeper, like it wasn’t even his, “I’m just doing what I need to do. Nothing you’ve done, nothing you could have prevented either,” a smirk appeared on his cold, white face, but Heeseung knew it wasn’t him.

Heeseung, barely alive, chokes out. “You’ll never get away with this,” a bold statement, Jay was almost impressed. But the grin faded from his lips, and only darkness grew from his dark eyes now. Jay chuckled darkly, grabbing onto Heeseung’s collar and pulling him off the ground a bit. He smiled, leaning in close.

“Then I will give my all to prove you wrong,” and he lets go, causing Heeseung’s head to fall back against the ground beneath him, bleeding out as Jay laughed before grabbing onto his legs and dragging him away towards the fountain in the middle of the maze, where soon, their friends will mourn another, but eventually learn the truth.

Jungwon ran first, with Jake calling out for him and Niki watching from the back porch. He stood, frozen, as his two friends darted towards the maze’s entrance, running through the maze to find wherever Sunghoon was. Jake tried to catch up to Jungwon, but he was so fast. Through the maze, going the right path every time, Jake was even confused as he chased after Jungwon, eventually making it to the fountain where another one of their friends was dead, hanging on the fountain, like he had been crucified—just like Sunoo. Along the fountain’s circular edge, where most would sit to take a moment of breath, there was blood. So much blood, and the water had turned red, mixing with the blood. His stomach still (barely) held up the intestines that tried to fall out, his legs and hands stained with his own blood. Jake stopped there, just before he ran into Jungwon, who had abruptly stopped in front of the fountain. 

“Hee—” Jungwon gasped and covered his mouth, “Oh my god . .” But he saw the blood, and he saw the fountain. It was just like what happened to Sunoo. What the hell was all of this? There’s been pentagrams and crucifixion and so much death. Was this a cult?

Jake stepped back and turned, seeing Sunghoon sitting with his knees against his chest. He was shaking, his eyes dancing. “Sunghoon, Sunghoon,” Jake quickly headed over to him, trying to get him to snap out of it, “Sunghoon, look at me, you’re okay,”

Sunghoon didn’t move. “He’s dead. Sunoo’s dead. We’re going to die.” His eyes were wide, his body shivering. He was in shock, mumbling the same words to himself as he stared forward. 

Jake looked up and turned to Jungwon behind him. “Help me get him up,” 

Jungwon obliged and stepped towards them, both boys trying to lift Sunghoon off the ground. Jungwon stumbled a bit—Sunghoon wasn’t much taller than he was, but Jungwon was skinny, thin, not as strong as Sunghoon or, well, Jay. They walked out of the maze, completely forgetting about the generator, though the image of their dead friend did not even begin to fade from their eyes and mind.

Into the house, it was still dark. Some light reflected into the room from the windows, its dimness was noticeable, as it was only from the moon above. The full moon—call it a superstition, but Jungwon never liked full moons. They were always crazy nights, stressful or stress-less. There was no in between. Tonight was different. Tonight may actually be the end of everything.

“We’ve lost Sunoo and Heeseung,” Jake began to say, “Sunghoon’s in shock, and we have no idea where Jay is.” 

Sunghoon then grabbed onto Jake tightly, startling him. “No, no we can’t,” Sunghoon said hoarsely to Jake, “We can’t find Jay. We can’t.” His voice was shaking, tightly gripping Jake so tightly, it almost felt like he might tear his sleeve. 

Jake looked at him with furrowed brows, “What do you mean we can’t?” It was almost asking if Jay was already dead or not, but there was just this feeling in his gut that wasn’t anything close to what Sunghoon meant at all. Jungwon and Niki stood away by the couch in the center room, watching. Jake waited for a response, but before Sunghoon could say a thing, a voice rang out in the room, footsteps approaching from the main corridor upstairs. There, at the fence, stood Jay, clean but sweaty, like he had just been hiding all this time.

“Guys!” Jay exclaimed, “Thank god, you’re okay!” He came down the stairs and immediately hugged Jungwon and Jake, “I was so scared, I ran, I’m so sorry, I​​—”

“What are you sorry for?” Jungwon said with a raised brow, “You’re safe, that’s what matters.”

Jake nodded in agreement, both of them completely forgetting all that Sunghoon had to say. Even though only Sunghoon knew the truth—the truth that may just cost them their lives.

✧✧✧

“I was hiding in the upstairs closet. I was scared to come out. After seeing . . .” Jay shuddered as he spoke, “I was so scared.” He held his own arms so tight, like he was freezing in that warm room. His eyes shook with each beat of Sunghoon’s heart, because something inside him made him believe Jay didn’t have a heart at all. Jungwon frowned with empathy, and Jake raised his head to say another word. Niki sat away, as did Sunghoon, both watching but only one watched with fear. 

“We’ve lost Sunoo and Heeseung,” Jake began to say, “This doesn’t feel real. It can’t be.” He shook his head before burying his face into his hands. 

“This has to be a sick joke,” said Niki, “There’s no way we . . .” He trailed off, staring into the floor, “No. There’s just no way.” He stated. As Jake lifted his head, he noticed something shine behind the cloth of Jay’s shirt, a silver necklace with a red gem was all he could make out of it, but his thoughts were forgotten about as Jungwon continued the conversation at hand.

Jungwon glanced over, “Could this be a prank?”

"A prank?" Niki shook his head, "You think our own friends would take their own life and slaughter themselves like animals for a prank?"

"That's enough, Niki—"

"No, no, do you really think—" Niki stepped over, "Do you really think they wanted us to mourn over them just for a laugh?"

"Niki." Jake stepped closer, "Back off."

Jungwon stared into Niki's eyes and wathced as Niki backed up and turned away. Jungwon crossed his arms, "What do we do now?"

Sunghoon looked over, but Jake caught his attention once he said, “We don’t split up. We stick together. All we have now is each other, it’s the only way we’ll get out of here alive.”

Jay stood up, looking through the window out to the backyard. “Where did you see him last?” He asked the others, “Out there?” He pointed.

“I haven’t seen him,” Jake said, “None of us have. We know just as much as you do.”

Sunghoon scoffed, “I doubt that.” 

Jay hitched his breath, Sunghoon heard it, but apparently no one else did.

But Jungwon furrowed his eyebrows, uncrossing his arms. “What do you mean by that, Hoon?”

“Wait,” Jay said suddenly, “Wait—he’s coming towards the door, Hoon, help me hold the door!” He darted towards the back door, holding it shut, waving his hand for Sunghoon to help him. Sunghoon shot up and went over, despite knowing the truth, knowing it all but a part of him wished he was wrong, that the “truth” wasn’t true at all. 

Jake stood up, “Where do you want us?” Jungwon and Niki stood up as well.

“Go, I want you to go,” Jay said, “Hide, we’ll hold him off as long as we can before we hide, too.” Then, he grinned a little, “I promise, we’ll be fine.”

Jungwon nodded and he ran down the corridor with Jake and Niki behind him. Jay looked over at Sunghoon, and with a smile, he let go of the door, reached behind him and stabbed Sunghoon in his stomach. Sunghoon starts to choke, “J-Jay . . .”

For as long as he could remember, Sunghoon always kept himself busy. It was a coping mechanism, though to most, it seemed like he just didn’t like people and was probably quite shy. All of that was true, but it wasn’t why he would keep himself so busy. He joined so many clubs, did so much community service, worked almost an ungodly and possibly illegal amount of hours for work, all to keep himself away from home. 

His parents had an arranged marriage, conceived him for the benefit of their own parents’ money. He was raised by his mother and father, but separately. You’d be lucky to see his parents in the same room as each other. They did love each other, but only platonically and even then, they never got alone. But they couldn’t divorce each other because then they’d lose all their money. But Sunghoon never thought anything of it. It wasn’t his business, not his problem so he kept to himself—always. 

He was an independent child growing up, and even though he had a younger sister, he never teased her or poked fun at her, not the way any other older brother normally would. Instead, he protected her. He taught her how to live, how to survive, how to act kind instead of wealthy because they were—they had all the money in the world, but he wanted nothing to do with it. He wanted to be his own person, to not ever be like his parents. They weren’t bad parents, they weren’t even bad people. But he wanted to be free, away from the fake-love, the fake-marriage, the one-on-one parenting. Love could not keep his parents together, but money sure could. But he didn’t want to be like that. 

When he was older, his family moved to this great big house, worth about a million USD at least, just down the street from Mr Hwang. His parents met him and grew close with him, and suddenly, everything was different. He noticed how his parents started to act with each other, more loving and caring towards one another, like money never meant a thing to them. Love was there, pure love. He almost didn’t think anything of it, until more and more thoughts started to appear in his mind, making him realize the truth that something had changed.

“You’re just thinking too much into it,” said his little sister with a curving grin and a short chuckle, “Mom and Dad have always loved each other.”

But they didn’t—They never loved each other the way they suddenly do now. And she wouldn’t believe him, or even listen to anything he says about it. He was the only one who knew the truth, that this wasn’t right. Something had changed. But every time he brought it up with his sister, she’d call him crazy. And eventually, it stuck, and he stopped talking to her about it. Instead, he started to wish he wasn’t home anymore. So he made sure, with everything he had, that he rarely ever was.

“I’m sorry, old pal,” Jay said lowly, “You should’ve kept your mouth shut,” and with the same knife, he slit Sunghoon’s throat, his blood spraying onto him, covering him once again in his own friend’s blood, staining his clothes, his face, but it would only get worse as he saw, standing there in the kitchen, it was Niki. Paralyzed, frozen with wide eyes, traumatized from what he had just seen. “What’s the matter?” A sneering, but dark voice echoes through the room, “Don’t feel so left out. You’ll be joining him,”

Niki started to shake his head, backing into the counter behind him. “Jay—”

Then, Jay throws his knife towards him, stabbing Niki right in his chest, causing him to then fall to the ground. He steps over Sunghoon, walking over to the kitchen to where Niki had fallen. But Niki fought back—He kicked Jay back, trying to get up as he pulled the knife out of his chest, trying to use it to his advantage before he bleeds out. Jay charges at him, knocking the knife out of Niki’s hand but Niki pushes against him, throwing a punch, then two, but Jay hits back, hitting him right where he had stabbed him. Niki falls back, grunting loud as the pain grows. Jay then grabs a knife out of its holder on the counter and stabs Niki again, but this time in his stomach, pulling it upwards, cutting up Niki’s stomach, tearing the skin. Niki choked on the blood filling his throat, but he swallowed harshly. 

Niki sat alone in the mall’s food court. He was about seven then, watching the people come and go, sitting at the tables, eating their rice, their noodles, before going on to another store, carrying bags upon bags, or maybe nothing at all. He watched every person that caught his eye, observing them closely, noting every piece of their being just sitting there, alone and without anyone to accompany him.

His parents were drug dealers, moved to Korea when Niki was just a little younger than he was then. He didn’t know this until he was much older, but they moved there because they were getting ratted out for selling drugs, so they ran to Seoul, expecting it to be different from their home in Japan. But he was just a little kid, he never paid any attention to anything.

He had always been an eccentric kid, ever since he was just a little toddler. He was so full of energy, always in the mood to play. There was never a dull moment with him. He never gets to play with other kids, so he always plays with his sister instead, not that he didn’t enjoy it. But today was different, she was with the babysitter as Niki had accompanied his parents on a little trip to the mall which led him to where he is now—sitting alone in the food court, not knowing where his parents had disappeared to. He was right next to them, following them as they walked so quickly through the mall’s long, open corridor. There were so many people, such thin crowds however, that Niki almost didn’t realize that he had lost his parents. They weren’t in front of him any longer, and soon, he was lost. 

Like any other kid, he found the food court almost immediately. So, he took a seat at an empty table and waited, watching every person in his view, trying to find his parents. It was almost like a reflex, like this had happened before. Because it has. This was not at all the first time this had happened, and it definitely wasn’t the last. They knew where to find him afterwards, which made Niki wonder, once he got older, that this was their plan all along. To lose them along the way to their serving, their dealing, so they’d find him in the food court and make their way home just to do it again in the next week or so. 

“Riki, dear,” his mother called out from behind him, close by. “Let’s go,” her hand appeared on his shoulder, but it didn’t startle him. He looked up at her, and she was smiling.

“Can we get lunch?” Niki asked, “Please?”

His father appeared beside his mother, looking to his wife.

She sighed, “What would you like?” She kept her smile, “There’s plenty of—”

“I want ramyeon,” 

“Ramyeon?” She expected more, honestly. “Here, or the store down—”

“Can we stop by that store by the school?” Niki asked, lowering his head to the table again, “I like the ramyeon there,”

She nodded her head, “Of course. Come on,” and Niki obliged and rose from his seat.

That store was built a long time ago, just the year before that school was. After school every day, he’d have to walk home, but only after stopping at the store first. He would never have a single cent on him, but the owner always gave him the ramyeon for free. It was almost obvious from the way Niki was dressed that his family was not as “well-off” as everyone else’s was. It wasn’t his fault, so the owner never asked any questions about it. Instead, the only thing he ever asked was what type of ramyeon he would like that afternoon. The school was just down the block from the school, about a five minute walk. It was the school Niki went to for primary school, where he met the store owner’s son. His first ever friend.

He never told his parents about his friendship. He didn’t want them to try and leech off his friend’s parents. He’s never seen them or known of them to do that, but he didn’t want to take the risk either. He was such a smart little kid, it was no surprise when he passed so many exams with such flying colors that it earned him a scholarship to that private academy he goes to now. He’s earned every moment of recognition, of admiration, that he’s ever been given. He’s worked his way to the top, and now, there he goes to school with his best friends—plural. 

His name was Nishimura Riki, but he never went by “Riki.” His parents called him that, of course, because they named him that, but to anyone else he was “Niki.” On the first day of school after moving from Japan to Korea, Niki was sat beside this smaller boy with dark hair and curved, but wide eyes who turned to him, looked at the name he had written on the page, so quickly like it was any of his business, and asked, “Your name is Niki?”

But Niki did not correct him. He just smiled a little and nodded. “Yeah,” he said, “my name is Niki.”

And the boy smiled back at him, his eyes creasing into sideways-crescents, appearing suddenly kind, like his aura had completely changed.

“I’m Sunoo.”

“You killed them.”

Jay’s eyebrows lifted slightly, feeling the grip of Niki’s hands around his arms only tighten. Niki stared into Jay’s cold eyes, the brown in his eyes had changed to pure crimson, almost glowing in the shadows of his face. Niki felt his skin continue to tear, this was the end of the line. Soon, he’d meet Sunoo again. Death didn’t seem so bad anymore.

“You . . .” Niki hitched his breath, “You killed your own friends, with your own hands,” his hands started to lose grip, “with no remorse, none at all. You killed Sunoo, and Heeseung, and Sunghoon, and . . . You’re killing me, too. Then you’ll kill Jake and Jungwon, and then it’ll be over,” Niki’s voice was strained as he spoke with his very last breaths, “But you are not yourself, you are—” he chokes again, swallowing harshly, “You’re Mr Hwang.”

There, with a quick twist of his wrist, the knife deepens, and Niki’s heart stops and he croaks out his last breath. His eyes became lifeless as did the others’, and there, another one was gone. His body went limp, his hands still stiff but Jay jerked himself out of his grip. He stood up, covered in blood that had become a mixture of two of his friends’ blood, none belonging to him at all. He did not take the knife out of Niki, no, but he grabbed the last one out of the holder on the counter, the sharpest one it appeared, and he stepped over Niki’s body and headed down the hallway where he had left Sunoo’s body not even an hour before. Down the dark hallway, he stopped midway when he heard the scuffling behind a closed door—the bathroom door. He took silent steps to not be heard, but he knew even the one inside knew he was out there. But it was Mr Hwang who had taken over Jay’s entire being, controlling him, proving Sunghoon’s statement before. He was a nice guy unless you trespassed. He gets scary.

But it was suddenly an idiotic move to try and get the bathroom to open as no one was in it at all, but with a quick glance to his left, Jay saw a foot in the crack of a door, just behind it as if it was ready to run out the moment it needed to. Jay didn’t waste a second. He darted towards the door with his knife in his hand, stabbing who appeared to be Jake, standing behind the door, but behind him a few feet was Jungwon who lifted up a chair and threw it at Jay, knocking him back and blacking him out for a few moments. Jungwon quickly grabbed onto Jake and helped him up, running out of the room and up the stairs to the nearest room—the master bedroom, where Jay was first possessed, not that they knew any of that—yet.

In the master bedroom, Jungwon searched the dresser for any extra sheets or clothing that he could wrap around Jake to slow the bleeding. Unfortunately, nothing but old photos and letters were left in the drawers, along with some old dusty book under most of it. But he did catch a glimpse at the photo sitting on the dresser of Mr Hwang and his wife, though his thoughts were quickly interrupted by the other.

“Jungwon, the blood’s not stopping. I don’t think I’m going to make it,” Jake was panicking, his voice was shaking but Jungwon tried to stay calm for the both of them. Jungwon didn’t glance at him, he just kept looking through the dresser.

“You are not bleeding out, Jake—”

“Yes, yes I am,” Jake breathed heavily, holding his wound tightly with his jacket against it, trying to soak the blood into it, “He stabbed me, Jungwon. I’m going to die.” 

“You are not— Jake, listen to me,” Jungwon quickly went over to him, “You are not dying. We are getting out of here, I just need to find a way to get back down to the main floor. Okay?” And after a moment, Jake nodded his head so Jungwon headed back over to the other side of the corner inside the master bedroom, seeing the large board on the wall covered in pictures and strings attached to push-pins that connected a whole bunch of things. It was like a crime-wall. “What the . . .” Jungwon muttered under his breath, skimming over it all. 

A few were cut outs of newspaper headings, all revolving around people passing away and a rise of churches preaching about resurrection. There was a photo of a group of men in coats, and there were others of funerals, some of people he’s seen in the obituaries in the paper. There was even a photo of Sunghoon’s parents on there as well. Lastly, in the middle of the board, there was an obituary from seven years ago of a woman, the same woman that was in the picture on the dresser. Quickly to the dresser, in the top drawer, he dug until he found what was a thick, journal-like book underneath the piles of photos and letters. He flipped through the old, stained pages quickly before stopping when he saw the amulet sketched onto the page.

The Ochiul Amuletului Lucifer, or the Eye of Lucifer Amulet, was discovered hundreds of years ago, near the beginning of Romania. One priest, after committing an unknown sin, was struck by lightning twice before collapsing where later, he found the amulet in his hand when he woke up. He believed it was his sign from God to confess his sins and beg for forgiveness. However, from an act now to be marked as a only miracle, an ill child, dead for only a minute, was saved and brought back to life once the Priest had helped him. The Priest sought out how this could have happened, how he saved the child, to come to the conclusion that the amulet had helped him. That amulet was passed down to his son and then to his son, going on for generations, making it all the way to today where it sat in His hands, the ones belonging to someone I thought was my friend, but only to be a cult leader who swore he would resurrect Christ and become God himself. 

I should’ve known the moment he taught us how to make those “rituals.” But those “rituals”—that he claimed to be so enlightening—are nothing but unholy. It’s like the worst version of the crucifixion of Jesus. A pentagram underneath them, he says it works best when it’s drawn out with their own blood. He kept telling us to not read the manuscripts. But they hold the truth. How had I not seen this coming? It’s a sacrificial ritual to Hell. He was sending those innocent people to Hell just for the hell of it. I wish I could laugh at my own accidental pun but I’ve lost everything. Again. I’ve lost everything again. 

I stole that amulet from him. I thought if I took it, he could no longer hurt anyone, but only I’ve grown with the same power he had. It wasn’t bringing any of them back. It was draining our lives instead. It has dark magic inside of it, that was clear the moment I laid eyes on it. He always told me how it would make him a God. I have those same thoughts now, just like he did. I can feel it becoming me, and it’s locked away. I’m scared if I die near it, I’ll be trapped inside of it, lost for eternity. I only wanted her back. Was I selfish? Was this all just my fault? I’m to blame for this. I had that couple join us, too. Oh the children, what have I done? 

I should have never met him. I should have never joined him. 

I have to stop him. 

Jungwon’s eyes were so wide, he thought they would never close. Mr Hwang was the one who had possessed Jay and made him kill all his friends. The dark magic inside the amulet trapped his ghost inside and corrupted him into an evil version of himself. He set the book down on the top of the dresser and headed over to the board again, starting to take it all down carefully, grabbing it all and throwing it onto the ground near Jake’s feet. Jungwon turned back to the dresser and took out the photos and the letters, took it to the floor where the other stuff was and laid it all out, trying to connect the pieces and solve the puzzle. It took him a few minutes, but once he figured it out, he sat back and stared at all of it on the floor. 

“Mr Hwang lost his wife seven years ago so he joined a cult that believed that they could use resurrection and dark magic to bring their loved ones back, but it never worked. It only slowly started to kill them instead, and the rituals they did were sacrifices of innocent people so they could ‘get their loved ones back’ but then it only killed those people and sent them to Hell.” Jake twisted his face, confused at his words but he still followed, “Five years ago, Sunghoon and his family moved down the street of Mr Hwang, and his parents met him and grew close with him, where they were convinced to join the cult as well and because of some dark magic or something, but—” Jungwon raised his head a bit, “It made them fall in love with each other.”

Jake’s eyes widened, “Sunghoon wasn’t lying . . .” He never once did.

Jungwon shook his head, “They couldn’t get the dark magic to resurrect any of their lost loved ones, so Mr Hwang started to convince himself that the cult was draining their own lives to be able to resurrect the lives they lost. The board, all of it—he made it so he could end the cult for good, so he’d have a plan. But then, he was killed for what he was trying to do, and for what he had taken,”

The other grunted, “What do you mean? What did he . . what did he take?”

Jungwon grabbed one of the photos and lifted it for Jake to see, “He took this amulet, where the dark magic was trapped inside of.”

Jake gasps, though it hurts his chest, “Oh god,” he goes, “Oh god, oh god,” he repeats, clutching his chest like a heart attack.

“What? Jake?” Jungwon quickly asks, scooting over to Jake to make sure he was okay, “Jake, what is it?”

Jake is shuddering, shaking like he was freezing, his eyes dancing as his hand twitches with soreness. “That amulet you just showed me, you said it has that dark magic in it,” and as Jungwon nods, he starts to realize what Jake was about to say next, “Jay was wearing it.”

 Jungwon felt his heart sink to his stomach. “What do we do?” He shivered, “Fuck—What do we do, Jake?” It had just hit him then, that his best friend, his longest and dearest friend, had been possessed by a ghost with a vengeance. He killed four of their friends, stabbed another, and now it’s only he and Jake that’s left. But even Jake may not make it. He was dying, even if he kept telling Jungwon he would be just fine. His time was running out. “There’s a balcony we can escape on down the hall.” He looked over at Jake, “Should we go?”

“Yeah,” Jake coughed as he nodded, starting to sit up from the wall, “We should head up now, before he finds us.” 

Jungwon grabbed onto Jake carefully, helping him stand up. Jungwon had his arm wrapped around Jake as his arm was wrapped around Jungwon’s shoulders, walking towards the door which that slowly, and as quietly as humanly possible, opened and started to head down the hallway. Two doors down was the music room, a single black piano sat against the wall ahead of them as they walked through the door, a chair in the corner to their left, but there was nothing else in there. It was so empty, so spacious. A chill fell down Jungwon’s spine.

Jungwon helped Jake get settled against the wall adjacent to the front-wall where the door was. Jungwon walked over to the balcony, though the only way to it was through a large window. “Okay, we just need to get onto the balcony and we’ll either climb down or maybe jump down? I don’t— We’ll figure it out,”

“No, you go and get help,” Jake scooted up the wall a bit, gasping as he did so, “You’ll get out of here. You’ll live,” a sudden change in tone, completely going against all he had been saying this entire time, earning a wide-eyed look from the other. “Go,” 

“What?” Jungwon went over to him, “No, I’m not— I’m not leaving you, Jake.”

Jake lifted the blood-soaked jacket from the wound, revealing the deep cut that the knife had left in his abdomen. It was still bleeding out, not slowing at all. “I’m dying, Jungwon. I’m only going to slow you down.”

Jungwon shook his head, “No, no, I’m not leaving you. Stop being stupid,”

“I’m not being stupid. I’m being realistic. I won’t be able to climb down or jump down—I won’t even make it through the next few minutes,” He coughs dryly, scared he’ll cough up more blood as there was already some that had stained his lips a bit. “I’m not going to make it, Won.”

“Dad? — No, I’m here.”

Jake held the phone up to his ear, sitting beside his mother and brother in the airport’s departure-waiting room. It was the night before Jake’s 9th birthday, his mother had booked a last minute flight for her and her two sons to go back to Korea. Jake was first born there in Seoul, though he and his older brother moved to Brisbane shortly after to live with his father, even though Jake was just a few months old. This was because his parents split up, though they were never married, and the court had (wrongfully) given his father full-custody. They called every week, at least three times, to keep in contact. There were plenty of times where Jake and his older brother both wished they lived with their mother instead. Their father wasn’t a bad guy, but he wasn’t a good dad either. He was always working and when he got home, he would just drink and fall asleep in front of the couch. Jake’s older brother basically raised him up until that week before Jake’s 9th birthday.

Just this past week, however, their mother had come to visit. It had been a long time, but she had been saving up her vacation days and all her money to stay for a whole week with her boys. She was definitely surprised to see how their very wealthy father was living. Jake and his brother went to elite schools, while living in a house that was the equivalent of a crack-house. She was appalled, dumbfounded if you will, but she decided right then and there that she was going to take her boys to a better home, even if that meant leaving their father behind.

Jake had no idea what was going on. All he knew was that he was boarding a plane with his mom and brother without his father. All he knew was what his mother had said as she told them to pack their things and get ready to go. “I should’ve never let them give him custody,” was what she had muttered under her breath as she packed her sons’ clothes into bags. Jake was the only one who heard her, but it wasn’t long until he would ask his older brother about it, who just told him to keep quiet. 

“Hey, where did you guys go?” He still sounded drunk, slurring his words with a still half-asleep voice. “I was gonna, I was gonna cook some dinner.” 

Jake gulped. “Oh, uh, we went out to the store,” he tried to keep himself from crying, but he was so small, he couldn’t control. “We’ll be back later.”

His mother slightly frowned, and his brother had already turned away. She rubbed her youngest son’s back slowly, trying to comfort him as he spoke to his father.

“Oh could you pick up some—what is it called—that cheese your brother likes so much?”

“Parmesan?”

“Yes, yes! That’s it!” He hears his father laugh on the other side of the phone. “Could you get me some of that for me, yeah?” 

Jake looked over at his mom, and tried not to start crying but his voice started to break and crack as he replied. “Yeah. I can,” he nodded his head, “We’ll be home soon, Dad.”

“Good. I’ll be waiting. I love you, son.”

Jake stared down at his lap. “I love you, too, Dad.” And the call ended. He handed the phone back to his mother, and soon, it was time to board their plane. Jake felt awful that he lied to his father. They weren’t coming back, and Jake knew that. He loved his dad, he really did, but maybe this was a good thing. Maybe it was a bad thing. He wasn’t sure about any of it. But he did know one thing, that his 9th birthday was his best birthday yet. He had loads of cake and he had so many presents, and at the park that night, that’s when he met Jay and Jungwon. 

It never once dawned on him that that phone call he had with his father before they got onto the plane, was his last phone call with his dad—ever. Now, he hadn’t spoken to his father in almost a decade. According to social media, his dad eventually remarried and changed his entire lifestyle. He was now 8 years sober, married with a couple step-kids and kids of his own blood, living in a fancy house with his young(er) wife, completely forgetting about his first two children. He tried to not let it bother him when he found out, but his father had forgotten about him. He thought it was his fault, because he had lied to him before, but he figured he was probably too drunk to even realize that his two sons never came back. He didn’t know. But whenever anyone asks where his dad was, he would always say “on another business trip” because he thought if he told anyone the truth, he’d be seen differently because then, he’d be labeled with “daddy issues” and he didn’t want to be just a guy with daddy issues. He wanted to be his own person, even if his own best friend understood what he was going through, the one that always hid everything from everyone, the one who’s dad was there but not really there at all at the same time. But life goes on, people make mistakes, and people change. Life goes on, even if it’s without you.

“No, I’m not leaving you,” Jungwon stated with a stern tone, “You are going to live, I can’t—” Tears started to form, rolling down his face quickly, “I can’t leave you, Jake. I can’t lose you, too.”

Jake started to cry, but he didn’t seem to realize it. His skin was so pale, and his hands started to tremble. “I never told Kara to not come. I invited her, remember? And she might be here soon. So get out of here and leave with her, just run and get help, or don’t. Just run,” he rambled on, but he hitched his breath as he paused, “I know she’ll think I was brave, that I should’ve lived but I’ve always been a coward. I never told her how I felt, how I’ve a-always felt about her,” he then grabbed his hand and held it tightly with both of his, “I won’t ask you to tell her that, I don’t want to add to her pain, but please,” he shuddered, “watch over her, will you? She’s really smart, but she’s not so good with people. I just want her to be safe, you know?” His eyebrows creased, knitting together as its ends pointed upwards. Jungwon couldn’t disagree with him. He didn’t have the will to. This was what Jake wanted, what he needed to move on and leave this painful life behind. He knew that Jake wouldn’t make it to the end, but he thought if they just hurried, Jake would live. But that was never going to happen. 

Jungwon nodded his head, “I’ll take care of her,” he started to sob, “Now, you go now, okay? I’ll be okay. You don’t have to hurt anymore,” he brushed his hair out of his face, “It’s okay, Jake. You can go.” His voice trembled as he spoke.

Jake tried to smile, “Take care of yourself, Won.”

Jungwon sniffled, feeling as Jake’s hands let go of his. He leaned down and started to cry again, his hands stained with his dead best friend’s blood. He couldn’t believe it at all. All of his friends were dead, and Jay wasn’t anything like himself. He had killed everyone, and now he was alone and he had to leave so he could protect himself and Kara and everyone else. But he couldn’t move. He was frozen, stuck there as he sobbed over Jake’s dead body, numb of all things flowing through his heart and mind. Everyone was dead.

“So you’re the only one left, huh?”

Jungwon shook his head, “You killed everyone.” He lifted his head, seeing Jay stand there in the doorway. “You don’t even care. You murdered them in cold blood, your brothers, your best friends and you don’t feel any remorse. You don’t feel anything at all.”

Jay scoffed, “They’re not my friends. And I’m not Jay, but you already knew that, right?” He started to walk over, “There’s something that’s stopping me from slitting your throat right now, so I’ll give you a chance here,” he threw the knife away, it slid against the floor and hit the baseboard right under the window to the balcony. “I will let you fight me. I won’t use anything but my own bare hands, to make it fair. We’ll fight to the death, and whoever wins, will walk out of this house alive, whether it be you or me. But I’ll give you an advantage, too. If you manage,” he continues to explain, using his hands to express it, just like Jay used to do, “to grab the knife while we fight, then you can use it to try and kill me with it. But if I grab it, I can try to kill you with it, too. Ready?”

Jungwon stared at him, no emotion behind his eyes as he stood up, his hands still red and stained. “Ready as I’ll ever be.” He raised his fists, and Jay charged at him, but Jungwon blocked the first punch, though he just slightly missed the second punch so he stumbled back a bit before dodging and swinging, punching Jay in his jaw. His face and arms were bruised a little, probably from earlier with the chair that he had thrown at him, but he couldn’t help but hope that it really did hurt him. No one would ever judge him for thinking that way, but Jay was his best friend. This was all just too much, but inside he knew, Jay was still in there, somewhere.

“You’re pathetic, y’know that?” Jay chuckled darkly, pushing against Jungwon, “You are just as weak as he is,” Mr Hwang? Oh, he didn’t know who was speaking anymore. “You are just as stupid as him, too.”

“Look at yourself, Mr Hwang,” Jungwon quickly retaliated, “You joined a cult, trying to bring back your wife, but that cult was never going to help you do that at all. And when you finally realized it, you stole the amulet so you could try to resurrect her yourself. You tried to stop a cult that you knew could kill you in an instant, and for all you’ve done, you will never be granted the chance to reunite with your wife now, right? For all the sins you’ve committed just tonight alone,” Jungwon tightened his grip, “That amulet did not make you a God, nor did it ever make you a better person, but instead, it made you just as weak as you claim that I am.”

He backed up and kicked Jay back, fixing his stance before he swung again but Jay caught his arm and twisted it, causing Jungwon to yell out. But Jungwon grabbed onto his other arm and pinched it, raising his boot to kick Jay in the knee. Out of his grasp, Jungwon ran for the knife, but he tripped when he felt a hand grab onto his ankle, pulling him back. But Jungwon fought back, kicked him as he continued to reach for the knife. But Jay climbed over him and grabbed it first, about to stab the other before Jungwon grabbed onto Jay’s wrist with both hands, pushing him back as Jay sat on Jungwon’s stomach, pushing the knife down against Jungwon’s grip. The knife made it to the edge of his skin, drawing blood and cutting into him just ever so slightly before Jungwon did the last thing he could do, his last chance at living, at surviving all of this—his last chance at saving Jay. 

“It’s over,” Jay—or Mr Hwang—said roughly, “You’ve lost.”

Jungwon did not believe that at all. Because he hadn’t lost, at least not yet. He had a plan that could either kill him or save him, so he took a deep breath and spoke with his heart.

“Could you live without me?”

Jay suddenly stopped, his hands shaking as he stayed in place, furrowing his eyebrows. “What?” The knife lifted a little, just over the small cut.

Jungwon took in a deep breath, “I told you I wouldn’t want to live without you, but could you? Could you live without me? Would you—” Jungwon sniffled, tears starting to form again in the corners of his eyes. “Would you want to?”

The older did not mutter a word, but the crimson in his eyes had started to fade. Jungwon was winning, he knew that then. Jay was phasing out of the possession, he was getting his control back. One final thing could either save them both or lead to his death. Jungwon knew what to do. So his grip tightened, the knife just barely hovering over his chest as he spoke.

“It’s not your fault, Jay.”

Jungwon’s only ever seen Jay cry once. It was a long time ago, when they were about eight and nine. Jungwon had stayed the night, like he did every weekend, and Jay was showing him this new game his parents had bought him at the store the day before. The two boys sat on the floor of Jay’s bedroom, playing with Jay’s new game on his Playstation 2. It was pretty old, but it still worked. It was his father’s, and though they had enough money for just about a thousand Playstation 3’s, Jay never asked for a new one. He didn’t really want one. 

That night, sometime around 9, Jungwon had fallen asleep in his sleeping bag on the floor. Jay fell asleep shortly after, in his bed right beside him. It wasn’t until about 2 in the morning when Jungwon woke up to a distant slam of a door. His eyes shot open, like a trigger, then he sat up, confused and half-awake. He rubbed his eyes, but could only see the orange outline around the closed door, the hallway light was on. He reached above and switched the lamp on, before stretching and groaning. He stood up to go to the bathroom, but just as he turned to check on Jay, he saw that his bed was empty. The blanket was thrown around and the bed was still dented in from where Jay had been sleeping. His confusion started to grow, but so did his fear. Hesitantly, Jungwon headed for the door and opened it slowly, trying to make sure it didn’t creak or make any loud noise. He stepped into the hallway, his socks protecting him from the cold hard-wood floor beneath him, yet he still shuddered. The house was so cold, but it was the beginning of February. 

Jungwon walked down the steps, which felt so much longer now. Muffled voices from the kitchen behind a closed door, but his heart was beating louder in his chest, he swore it. When he approached the door, he stood there, not knowing if he should step in or not. This wasn’t his house, it wasn’t his right to intrude. That was, well, until he heard a familiar voice—Jay.

He opened the door a bit, seeing his friend just in front of the same door, staring at his parents who stood behind the kitchen island. His head poked into the room, slowly squeezing into the room, standing behind Jay—who hadn’t even noticed him yet. 

“You don’t get to berate me in front of our child in the middle of the night and think everything’s going to be just fine, Robert.” Mrs. Park remarked at her husband, pointing her index finger into his chest. Her eyebrows were in a thin line, Jungwon had never seen her this serious before. Mr. Park was always the serious one, the one that always ruined the fun or told Jay not to act a certain way, while Mrs. Park loved everything about her son and cared for his happiness and safety, not like Mr. Park ever did. Mrs. Park was a stay-at-home mom, although she only had one child (though she always treated Jungwon like a second son), while Mr. Park was always at work. He was rarely ever home, and when he was, he spent it in his office, working. He had never been there for his son, nor his wife. Jay had a father, never a dad. 

Mr. Park scoffed at her words, “Berate you? I have never—in my life—berated you. You are the one shouting at me all because I came home late,” but he stunk of booze, sweat beamed off his forehead and dripped down his face, and there was a good chance it was just alcohol. 

“You smell like you’ve lived in a bar for weeks, which you basically have because you spend every night there now,” said Mrs. Park, “You are never home. I have raised Jay all by myself, yet you don’t give a damn at all about your own son.”

“Do not turn this on me, Mary.” His voice was stern, controlling, it sent shivers down Jungwon’s spine, but Jay didn’t even flinch. “You drink your wine like it’s water, but the moment I drink a little, you go batshit crazy—”

“A little? You have gone to that bar every night for the last months, Robert. And you think I don’t know what you’ve been doing, but I’ve known for a long time,” she stepped towards him, “How dare you ever speak to me that way when you have been sleeping with your assistant for months—”

Slap.

The room went quiet. Mr. Park took a step back, realizing what he had done but she had already turned away and saw Jungwon standing there, too. She didn’t walk away, but she stopped there at the end of the island, closer to them now. She shook her head, her cheek turning red, but her tears fell down her face, staining them. “Pack your shit. You’re leaving.”

Soon, Jungwon and Jay were back upstairs, but this time, they were in his parents’ room. But he only called it his mom’s room when Jungwon asked where they were going. Most of Mr. Park’s stuff wasn’t even in the bedroom, and the stuff that was, Mrs. Park had come in and got it. She took it all downstairs before returning to the bedroom to tuck the boys in. 

“Where will you sleep, Mommy?” Jay’s little voice was so high, but he wasn’t a baby anymore. He only called her mommy when he was scared. She gave him a soft but saddened smile and leaned over to kiss his forehead. 

“Don’t you worry about that. I’ll just be downstairs,” and she leaned over and kissed Jungwon’s forehead again, “Get him to sleep, will you? He only ever listens to you,” she tells the other boy. Jungwon giggles and nods his head, though Jay tossed and turned, grumbling. She tucks them in and smiles, “Goodnight, boys. I’ll make a big breakfast in the morning,” and she rose from the bed and left the bedroom. Her cheek was still red, but she seemed so calm.

Jay didn’t say anything for a while. Jungwon thought he was asleep for a bit until Jay suddenly turned over on his side and faced him, startling him. “Are you okay?”

Jungwon stared at him. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

“N-No,” 

“Jay, you heard what they were saying. You were there. I was, too.”

“So what? They’re just divorcing,” Jay replied nonchalantly, even for a kid, it sounded so weird coming from him, “It’s not like he’s around anyways.” There was this small break in his voice when he said that, revealing to Jungwon that he was sad, but he just wouldn’t let himself feel that way.

“Stop doing that,” 

“Stop doing what?”

Jungwon didn’t look at him. He turned onto his back, his hands on his stomach, staring up at the ceiling fan. “Stop pushing your feelings down, like you don’t deserve to feel things. Stop doing that.”

But Jay looked at him. “Okay.”

He laid on his back as well. His elbow gently grazed Jungwon’s, but it was only Jungwon who noticed, yet he didn’t give the other boy a glance. He knew if he did, Jay would leave. But he turned his head when he heard a light sniffle coming from the older, seeing that he was crying. Jay was crying, the tears dripping off his cheek, wetting the white pillow cases. He had never seen Jay cry before. Never. Crying was never something Jay ever did, not even when they were way little. His mother always told him that Jay rarely cried as a baby, not a surprise he would always repress his emotions, but Jungwon always cried. Jungwon was a crybaby, he’d admit to that, not that that ever pushed Jay away, but anyone could tell you that Jay Park never cried. 

Jungwon didn’t say anything, it’d only make things worse. But with one single, slow motion, Jungwon turned over and faced Jay and when he noticed this, he almost immediately moved over and hugged Jungwon. Uncontrollably sobbing into his best friend’s shoulder, covering his t-shirt with tears and possibly snot, but Jungwon didn’t mind. 

He didn’t mind at all.

Jay took the knife and pulled it away from Jungwon. He reached under his shirt and yanked the amulet off of him, breaking the chain and tossing it away. Jungwon was frozen, but Jay stood up off of him. Jungwon sat up, watching Jay stumble back, almost tripping over himself as he stared forward, blankly. The knife was in his hand, and he looked up at Jungwon, his eyes wide and his skin as pale as a ghost. 

“He wanted me to kill everyone for trespassing,” Jay started to say, “but he wanted you to escape, so you could live with the pain for the rest of your life like he had done until the cult killed him for trying to stop them. He was just as bad as them, but I didn’t want— I didn’t want to kill them, I didn’t want to do this, any of it, I— I killed our best friends, Jungwon. I killed everyone, I can’t— What the fuck did I do?” He raised the knife, “What have I done?”

“Jay, Jay,” Jungwon stood up, “Listen to me, okay?” He started to say, but he kept his distance still, “You didn’t do this. It was Mr Hwang, okay? I don’t understand it, but you’re okay. Please put the knife down, please, you didn’t do a thing—”

“I killed them, Jungwon!” He shouts, cutting Jungwon off, “I killed all of them. I hung Sunoo up on a wall, I cut open Heeseung’s stomach, I stabbed Sunghoon, Niki, and Jake— And then I almost killed you! I’m a murderer, Won! I killed five fucking people tonight, all of which were our best friends, and now we’re the only people left. This isn’t right, I’m not okay, I’m not right in the head.”

“Jay, please, it wasn’t you, it was Mr Hwang! You didn’t kill them, he did!”

“But this is all my fault, it still is!” Jay exclaimed, throwing his hands around, “I let them push you to have this stupid party in the first place. If we never had this party, we’d all still be alive, I wouldn’t have gotten possessed and killed all of our friends, you won’t have lost all of us in just one night.”

Jungwon stepped back, “All of us . . . ?”

Jay took the knife and pointed it to his chest, “I’m sorry, Won. I hope you find peace one day,” and with a quick motion, he stabbed himself with the knife. 

Jungwon screams, running towards him as Jay falls to the ground. “No, no, no, no, no Jay please, you can’t do this, no,” Jungwon lifted him off the floor and into his lap, “Please, Jay, you can’t die on me. I can’t lose you, too.” Jungwon cried out hoarsely, “I can’t lose you. Not you, please.”

Jay choked on the blood filling his throat and his lungs, “It’s not your fault either,” he whispered, “It was never your fault, and it never will be. I’ll be okay. You go, and take care of yourself. I’ll be with the others. I’ll be okay, Won.”

Jungwon shook his head, “No, Jay, please,” he cried softly to the other, holding him as he brushed his hair out of his face, crying like a baby. “I can’t lose you, too, Jay. Please. I’ve lost everyone tonight. I can’t lose you. I can’t live without you.”

There, he said it. He had been dancing around it for years. He told him before that he wouldn’t want to live without the other, but in truth, it was that he couldn’t. But that wasn’t a surprise to Jay at all. Because he had always felt that way about Jungwon.

Jay started to smile, blood still pouring out of the cut, dripping from his mouth. “You have always been my person, Yang Jungwon. You have never shown me nothing but kindness. You have loved me and cared for me more than you have ever given any to yourself. You are nothing less of my own role model, my muse, my reason to be better. You are the wind that blows at sunrise, the winds that lead me home. You,” he lifted his hand to Jungwon’s face, his thumb brushing against his cheek, wiping a single tear away amongst the tons falling down his face, “You are everything, even if I am nothing.” 

Jungwon sniffled, leaning into Jay’s hand as he raised his own and pressed it against his. “I’ll meet you again, Jay. I’ll be there soon.”

His smile started to fade, his eyebrows relaxing as he spoke with his last breath. “I will meet you in every life if I have to,” and there, his body had gone limp, and his heart had stopped beating. Jungwon felt the other’s hand relax against his hand, his face, and more tears started to stream down his face like waterfalls. He cried out, throwing his head back, still holding Jay’s lifeless body in his arms ever so tightly. He didn’t want to let go. Ever.

It was the day after that one night he spent with Jay, the night his parents split up in the middle of the night, the first time Jungwon had ever seen Jay cry. Though, Jungwon didn’t want to go home just yet. He worried about Jay so much. Jay’s father hadn’t even come back by the time Jungwon left the next night, which only grew his worries. But Mrs Park drove him home with Jay sitting beside him in the back seat, talking with him all about the new video games that are coming out soon. He wanted to stay another night, but he promised he would be home that night because his mom wanted to take him shopping in the morning. It was a special occasion. 

It wasn’t long until they arrived at Jungwon’s house, but Mrs Park had said something aloud that caught the boys’ attention, she had cursed in front of them, whispering a “What the fuck?” to herself, not realizing the boys had heard her at all as her eyes were almost glued to Jungwon’s house and the wide open front door. 

“Did your father get home late again?” She turned back to look at Jungwon once she had parked in front of the house. “The door’s wide open,”

Jungwon shrugged. “Maybe he just got home and left the door open.” He stepped out of the car and grabbed his backpack, bowing to Mrs Park and waving at Jay before he headed inside the house. It was really quiet, not even the TV was on. “Mom? Dad?” It was silent, not even an echo or maybe even a thump or a stomp—it was just pure silence. His little eyebrows furrowed as he walked through the living room, the kitchen, then down the hall. The bathroom light was on, piercing through the cracks and shining just a little into the hallway. There, at the end of the hall, was his parents’ bedroom. The door was shut, but it wasn’t locked. He hesitated but he grabbed onto the doorknob and twisted, pushing the door open. 

His mother lays on the floor, what he thought was puke stuck to her lips and cheek, dripping off her face and onto the floor beside her. Her eyes were wide, but she was still, like a statue. Her chest did not raise with a single breath. On the bed, his father had laid back on it, his legs off the bed. He ran to him, shaking him, “Dad! Dad!” He called out to him, but when he looked closer, he saw the blood, and how it stained the quilt his grandmother had gifted them for Christmas last year. His eyes were wide, too, and he, too, did not move at all. But his were still shiny, like it wasn’t that long ago when he had done this. There was still life in his eyes, fading quickly, but if he had just gotten there a few minutes before, then maybe he would still have a mother and father. Did I do this? Of course not, but he was so young, and he had just walked into the deaths of both parents, one overdosed and the other shot himself. But he didn’t know that. He was so young, so innocent. All he knew was that they were gone. 

He started to cry, then he started to scream, which was when Mrs Park ran into the house, leaving Jay behind in the car. She grabbed Jungwon and picked him up, taking him out of the house as he screeched for his parents. She held him close, trying to keep him from going back inside as she lowered to the ground. “Jungwon, Jungwon—” But he didn’t listen to her. He just kept screaming and crying out for them. 

The police arrived not even five minutes later. They questioned Mrs Park for a while, but there wasn’t much to even ask. It was pretty clear what had happened. His father had planned it all. He drugged his wife and let her overdose and once she had passed, he shot himself. It was a murder-suicide. Jungwon never knew why his father would do such a thing, nor did he ever ask Mrs Park if she knew anything. After all, Mr Park and Jungwon’s dad were best friends. 

When they carried their bodies out in body bags, Jay told Jungwon to look at him instead. He thought it was the least he could do, to help Jungwon through this. This night was going to bond them together forever, even if it was a traumatic one. Jay’s parents were divorcing, and Jungwon’s parents were dead. But Jay felt that it was his duty to protect Jungwon from now on, to take care of him and keep him safe. Jungwon was his best friend, his person, and as he lost everything that night, the least he could do was protect him, even if it’s for the rest of their lives, for the rest of eternity. Jungwon meant everything to Jay, even if he never knew how to show it.

“Don’t look,” he whispered to Jungwon, “Just look at me,” he tried to give him a sympathetic smile, but Jungwon just looked down at the grass they sat on. “I’m sorry. Are you okay? Are you feeling any better?” Jungwon just shook his head. “Ma’ said your grandma’s on the way here. Are you going with her?”

Jungwon nodded, “Probably,” he looked up a little, “Do you want me to stay with you?”

Jay held Jungwon’s hand tighter, “That’s up to you,” he said, “you can if you want to. You know my ma’ loves you more than she loves me,” 

“That’s not true,” Jungwon playfully pushes Jay.

“Yes it is,” Jay replied, “She always asks when you’re coming over. You’re like another son to her,” and he lowered his head. Jungwon frowned, remembering it, too. A couple years before, Mrs Park had gotten pregnant again but she lost it during her second trimester. It really hurt her, and Jay always wanted a sibling. It just wasn’t in their favor.

“I’ll stay with my grandma tonight,” Jungwon said, “but I’ll stay with you tomorrow night. Is that okay?” He fiddled with his hands a little, starting to feel uneasy again.

Jay nodded, “I’ll ask Ma’ if we can stay up tomorrow. It’s a special day,” he smiled so brightly at Jungwon, everything disappeared around them. The cops, the talks about his dead parents, all of it faded out when Jay smiled at him then. Jay looked at his little TMNT watch and smiled even more, “Actually, it’s past midnight.”

Jungwon tried to smile, but his lips wouldn’t curve, they just tilted downwards and he felt the sting in his nose like he was about to cry. He had lost his parents that night, drowning with guilt of something he didn’t do. He knew what day it was now, and he’d never forget it. 

He had turned nine.

There was a moment then, Jungwon saw the same look in Jay’s eyes as he did in his father’s years ago. He felt the same stillness in his body as he did that night, too. This was too real, a flashback gone wrong. He wished this wasn’t real at all, he wished this was just an awful nightmare that should’ve been over a long time ago. All of his friends were dead, their bodies spread throughout the property. Sunoo, Heeseung, Sunghoon, Niki, Jake, Jay. He was the only one left. What was he supposed to do now? If he left that night, he would either be framed for their deaths, or be called a victim and sent to the nearest insane asylum—which was just as bad as being framed because either way, he’d be a prisoner. He didn’t want to live like that. He didn’t want to live with the constant reminder that his best friends were dead. He was alone again, left behind, holding the lifeless body of his oldest friend. Sunoo always inspired Jungwon, Heeseung would encourage him to be the best version of himself, Sunghoon would help him with self-doubt and self-esteem, Niki would listen to him vent and be someone who can actually relate to some parts of his life the others could never understand, Jake always made him feel included and never forgotten about, and Jay was his person. And he lost them. He lost every single one of them that night in the span of an hour and a half. He had to make a choice. He could either leave or stay. Live or die. 

He leaned his head back again, looking up at the ceiling, cursing at the universe for all he had lost that day when a single drop of blood fell onto his cheek when his head was still back. He slowly leaned forward, laying Jay down onto the floor carefully so he could stand up and look at where the drop of blood had fallen from. Then, from the ceilings and the edges between the ceilings and the walls, blood started to pour into the room like a normal day in Seattle. It was raining blood, covering Jungwon in it. It stained the walls, the floors, the chair, the piano, it covered Jake and Jay’s bodies, too. He did not know whose blood it was, and a part of him didn’t want to find out. He didn’t care for any of it anymore. He had lost everything. 

He had made his choice.

A white dress with long, see-through sleeves and a gentle bow tied on the chest—that was the dress Kara decided to wear to the party that night. She had gotten home from work about 9, finished getting ready by 9:45 and then drove to the address Jake had given her. She had a necklace hanging around her neck, white chain with a pearl at its end, white converse on her feet because she never liked the way heels felt around her feet. Her hair was down, some tied back with a clip. She was excited for the party, excited to see the boy she had been crushing on for years, hoping things will finally work out in her favor, hoping he felt the same as she did.

When she finally pulled up to the address, she parked beside Jake’s. She could recognize it before she could recognize anyone else’s. She almost didn’t realize that the only cars there were Jake and his friends’ cars. Was the party over? Or had it not even started yet? But past the brick wall, along the tall bushes as she walked on the concrete pavement just outside the gate. But the gate was already open, she expected an estate like this would have a password you would have to say into an intercom for the gate to open. She was nerdy like that, the perfect girl for a guy like Jake. The perfect girl for Jake.

But the concrete led to an empty yard, but no house. There was no house at all. It was just a huge yard covered in roses and lilies and the other flowers she couldn’t remember the names of. She first wondered if this was all a prank, that he didn’t like her at all. But then, when she stepped closer, she saw something glisten from the moonlight above her. She knelt down and picked the item up, seeing it was only a necklace. An amulet, a ruby embroidered with silver. 

The foundation was the first to collapse, cracking the blood stained walls and shattering all the windows. The roof came next, falling through each floor until the ground floor, shaking up the house so badly that the walls started to weaken and fall with it. Soon, the house collapsed in on itself, burying itself into the ground underneath it. The garden began to spread, roses and lilies appearing over the grounds that once kept a house there. The house was gone, wiped from existence, buried with its memories, its sins, and the bodies inside of it. Jungwon did not leave that night. He may never leave, his fate becoming the same as his friends’ who he all lost. He stood there in that red stained room, covered in blood that wasn’t his, knowing he was going to die. He didn’t mind, however. It was fate. He was going to die. He’s known that from the beginning. But even that did not scare him. Because at the end of it all, Jungwon was okay with dying. He was okay with never waking up from this nightmare, leaving behind everything he once loved, losing the people he cared for most, his future, his academics, his family. It was okay. He was okay. Even as the blood continued to drip down his face, crushed under all the debris, his last breaths were short but his words were shorter. “I think it’s strange you never knew,” it was a lyric from that song Jay loved so dearly. Even as he was dying, he thought of Jay, even as he’s suffocating, as his heart is slowing, as his lungs are filling with blood, Jungwon didn’t care. He knew it was okay. There, he took his last breath before becoming only a memory. There, Yang Jungwon died amongst his best friends, forgiven for his mistakes, remembered for his life, and alive in his memories. There, he will live forever with the people who loved him for him, who became his family, the only people he ever needed. There, he died smiling in his last breath.

fin.

✧✧✧

well, if you made it this far, thank you for reading all of this! i hope you all enjoyed this <3

#jay #jungwon #jake #heeseung #sunghoon #sunoo #niki #nishimura riki #kim sunoo #park sunghoon #lee heeseung #sim jaeyun #yang jungwon #jay park #enhypen #enhypen angst #angst #horror #enhypen horror #drunk dazed

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Anna Krylov and Jay Tanzman

Published: Oct 2, 2023

Note: A version of this article will appear as an invited chapter in the forthcoming volume The Free Inquiry Papers edited by Robert Maranto, Lee Jussim, and Sally Satel.

1. An age of unreason

The liberal enlightenment, humanism, and democracy are under siege. A once-obscure postmodernist worldview, Critical Social Justice (CSJ) [1-3], has escaped the academy and is quickly reshaping our institutions and society at large. Long-standing merit-based practices in science are rapidly being subordinated to practices based on the tenets of CSJ theory [4]. Increasingly, scientists must compete for funding, no longer only on the basis of scientific merit, but also on the basis of how their proposed research will promote the goals of CSJ. As an example, an NIH neurology program requires grant applications to include a “plan for enhancing diverse perspectives” with the goal to “bring about the culture change necessary to address the inequities and systemic biases in biomedical research….” [5] Similarly, funding for fundamental research in chemistry and physics now depends on researchers demonstrating their commitment to “promote equity and inclusion as an intrinsic element to advancing scientific excellence” [6].

In the academy, faculty hiring and administrative appointments are increasingly made on the basis of the candidate’s identity [7-9]. Merit-based admission to schools and universities is being weakened, with standardized tests such as the SAT and ACT being abandoned on “social justice” grounds [10,11]. K–12 is affected as well. Some school districts have stopped giving D and F grades in order to improve “equity” [12]. In math classes, activist teachers claim that getting the right answer and showing your work are white supremacist concepts and are advocating, instead, a supposedly anti-racist CSJ pedagogy [13,14]. Accelerated mathematics programs for gifted students, necessary to prepare them for advanced training and careers in STEM [15], are being dismantled in the name of “social justice” [16-18]. Many school districts have eliminated honors classes altogether in the name of “equity” [19]. The resultant weakening of the workforce has already contributed to the fall of the US from its position as the world leader in science [20].

In the university, faculty and staff are instructed to use Newspeak—neopronouns and other neologisms—in their written and verbal communications for the purpose of “inclusivity” [21,22]. To be avoided are such apparently un-inclusive terms as “strawman,” “brown-bag lunch,” and “picnic” [22–25]. Professional societies and corporations are following suit, proscribing terms such as “field,” “dark times,” “black market,” “double-blind study,” “nursing mother,” “hip-hip hooray,” “smart phone,” “homeless,” and “the French” [26–30].

In biology, an education paper recommends that teachers emphasize the sexual diversity across species in nature, which includes “organisms such as ciliates, algae, and fungi [that] have equal-size gametes (isogamy) and do not therefore have gametic sexes [that is, binary sexes, as mammals do].” This is supposed to promote inclusivity of LGBTQIA2+ students in the classroom [25]. Chemistry education also needs to be reformed, according to the journal Chemical Education, which published a virtual Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) collection of 67 papers exploring such topics as decolonization of the chemistry curriculum, chemistry and racism, and gender and sexual orientation identities in the chemistry classroom [31]. A recent paper in the same journal describes “a special topic class in chemistry on feminism and science as a tool to disrupt the dysconcious racism in STEM,” which explores “the development and interrelationship between quantum mechanics, Marxist materialism, Afro-futurism/pessimism, and postcolonial nationalism.” “To problematize time as a linear social construct,” the paper says, “the Copenhagen interpretation of the collapse of wave-particle duality was utilized” [32]. No, Deepak Chopra was not a co-author of the paper.

In STEM, prospective faculty are asked to pledge their commitment to the ideology of CSJ and to document their activism in advancing DEI [8,9,33,34]. Medical schools are abolishing long-accepted assessments of competency in order to improve racial parity in residency programs [35]. A pamphlet published by the University of Illinois Chicago School of Public Health claims that public health anti-obesity campaigns are an example of “fatphobia,” that public health’s “focus on body size is rooted in racism,” that “higher weight is not causal to worse health outcomes," and that “focusing on weight ignores systematic injustices” [36,37]. Under the doctrine of gender-affirming care, adolescents are offered life-changing transgender treatments, often after only perfunctory psychological assessment, despite the poor understanding that medicine currently has on the risks and benefits of these treatments [38–40].

[ Unreason and intolerance. Upper left: Yale students protest “offensive” Halloween costumes (2015). Lower left: Activists burn books by J.K. Rowling (2023). Right: Students at UC Davis disrupt a film viewing by throwing a bag of manure into the room. ]

Free speech itself, the cornerstone of liberal democracy, is under attack. As viewed by CSJ activists, free speech is dangerous, harmful, and equivalent to violence [41]. Adherents of DEI ideology believe that DEI should trump academic freedom [42]. Institutions essential for providing a platform for the marketplace of ideas, information exchange, and debate have largely abandoned their mission in the name of social justice activism. Articles in the press are infused with CSJ ideology [4]. Scientific publishers from Scientific American to the flagship journals Science and Nature have become mouthpieces for CSJ [43–56]. Universities, whose primary mission is education and truth seeking, have become complicit in censorship, scholarship suppression, indoctrination, and intimidation [57–59]. Universities and professional organizations have compromised their mission as seekers and communicators of objective truths by abandoning traditional institutional neutrality in favor of political activism, taking official positions on elections, police reform, abortion, wars, and other social issues [60,61], leaving dissenters out in the cold. Where debate, constructive disagreement, and discussion were once cultivated, conformity and dogmatism, enforced both top-down (by CSJ-infused DEI trainings [62,63]) and bottom-up (by ideologically driven activists [58]), now reign.

On campus, another essential provision of democracy, the presumption of innocence until proven guilty, no longer guides procedures for resolving conflict. Suspensions and terminations of professors without a hearing in response to offense taken by students, faculty members, or administrators has become commonplace (see, for example, Ref. 64–67). A predictable consequence is that there is now an unprecedented level of self-censorship by students and faculty [57,68,69]. Proposed changes to Title IX regulations will further erode the free speech of students and the protection of due process [70]. 

CSJ adherents accuse dissenters of being indifferent to existing inequalities and historic injustices, of being bigots, of having nefarious motives, and of perpetuating existing power structures. We reject these accusations. We oppose the practices of CSJ because they harm everyone, including those groups they purport to elevate [71-73]. It is precisely because we care about the existing problems in the world and about real social justice that we oppose CSJ.

What we are witnessing today—curriculum “decolonization,” the elimination of honors classes in schools, the ubiquitous war on merit [4], the imposition of political litmus tests for academic positions, Newspeak, the renaming of everything in sight, and on and on—are not isolated excesses perpetrated by a handful of overly zealous but otherwise well-meaning individuals; they are symptoms of a wholesale takeover of our institutions by an illiberal movement that currently has the upper hand. The current situation is not a pendulum that has swung too far and will self-correct [74]; it is a train hurtling full speed toward a cliff. Those of us unwillingly to go over the edge can either jump off—leave academia (or maybe start up alternative institutions)—or fight to get the brakes applied before it is too late. The remainder of this chapter is about the latter course of action.

2. Why we should fight

To put it simply, we should fight because it is the right thing to do. It is not only our duty to the next generation, but an opportunity to pay our debt to the previous generations of dissenters who fought against forces of illiberalism to create the free and prosperous world that we enjoy today [75,76]. By fighting, we, too, can fend off the forces of unreason and restore the values of humanism, liberalism, and The Enlightenment. Inaction and submission will only enable the further spread of illiberalism. The history of past illiberal regimes, such as the USSR and Nazi Germany, provide ample lessons and motivation to stand and fight today. The train is gaining momentum; the longer we wait, the harder it will be to stop it. We must act now, while we still can.

Although there are uncanny parallels with totalitarian regimes of the past [23,77–80], we are still living in a free, democratic society. Despite the advances of illiberal ideology, manifested by the rise of censorship, the spread of cancel culture [23,57,58,81–83], and the proliferation of institutionalized structures (such as DEI bureaucracies) to enforce CSJ ideology, the dissenters of today do not face incarceration in prisons, labor camps, and mental hospitals. Nonetheless, we can learn from history.

In his book To Build a Castle: My Life as a Dissenter [84], Vladimir Bukovsky [85] describes his experiences as a dissident who refused to comply with the Soviets and challenged the regime. Bukovsky describes the apathy and complacency of the majority of the population at that time. People understood the corrupt and inhumane nature of the regime, but they chose to keep their heads down because—as the Russian proverb goes—“No man can splay the stone” (in Russian: плетью обуха не перешибёшь).

Because of this complacency, the economically bankrupt, oppressive, and inhumane Soviet regime lasted as long as it did (70+ years). But it was the actions of dissidents that ultimately catalyzed its downfall. Consider, for example, the impact of the books of Solzhenitsyn, who told the world the truth about the atrocities of the Soviet regime [86]. In addition to meticulously documenting the scale of the atrocities, Solzhenitsyn explained that they came to be, not due to deviations from the party line or shortcomings of its individual leaders, but as the direct result of Marxist-Leninist ideology.

In Bukovsky’s time (the late 1950s to mid-1970s), open dissent was rare. Growing up in the Soviet Union, I [Anna]—as most of my peers—did not even know dissidents existed. It wasn’t until Perestroyka in the late 80s, when I read Solzhenitsyn’s books and learned about Sakharov [87] that I found out. Yet, it is through the actions of the dissidents that the West came to understand the Soviet regime as an “evil empire,” and this understanding propelled the political forces in the West that ultimately decided the outcome of the Cold War. The impact of the dissident movement on the Soviet regime has been illuminated through a series of memoranda of the Central Committee of the Communist Party, stolen and published by Bukovsky in his book Judgment in Moscow [88]. The acts of individuals splayed the stone after all.

I [Anna] was born (in the then-Soviet state of Ukraine) into the luckiest generation in the history of the USSR—the generation that witnessed the fall of the Wall when they were still young. We could escape to the free world, live as free people, and build successful and fulfilling careers in the West. Had the regime lasted another 20 years, my generation would have been yet another of the long list of those whose lives were ruined by the Soviet regime. I feel a personal debt to the dissidents of the day. 

Now, it is our turn to be the dissidents and to fight the good fight.

Fighting for what is right is not just the right thing to do; it is empowering. Standing up and speaking your mind is liberating, even exhilarating; while hunkering down in fear, hoping the storm will pass, is a bleak experience. Being honest feels good, while being complicit in lies is dispiriting. Fighting the good fight puts you in control, whereas passive submission leaves you helpless. Whether we ultimately win or lose this fight, those who choose to remain silent will look back and ask themselves why they did not act when they could. As Martin Niemöller wrote after World War II,

First they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a socialist. Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a trade unionist. Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—because I was not a Jew. Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.

Eventually, this illiberal movement, like those of the past, will come not only for the dissidents, but for the silent bystanders as well (and, eventually, for its own vocal supporters).

There are myriad excuses, as old as the history of totalitarianism and oppression itself, invoked to justify inaction, complacency, and collaboration. Bukovsky [84] enumerates a few of the more familiar: “What can I do alone?”; “I’ll be more effective after I get the promotion”; “It’s not my job; I’m a scientist.” “If I don’t collaborate, someone else will anyway (and I’ll probably do less harm).” These reasons may seem logical, even compelling; however, they are self-deceptions. Not pushing back against bad ideas allows them to spread. Not fighting back against illiberalism allows it to grow. Not standing up for truth permits the lies to flourish. Not confronting the CSJ ideologists permits them to advance. And when they advance, we lose. It is a zero-sum game.

The choice to fight in the face of potential consequences is personal [89] and not an easy one to make. But as you contemplate whether to act or to lay low, consider the importance of truth and integrity in your life. To paraphrase Bari Weiss: Worship truth more than Yale. As she says:

[D]o not lose sight of what is essential. Professional prestige is not essential. Being popular is not essential. Getting your child into an elite preschool is not essential. Doing the right thing is essential. Telling the truth is essential. Protecting your kids is essential. [90]

Sure, no one wants to become a martyr for free speech or experience bullying, ostracism, and professional damage [81,91–93]. Cancel culture is real, but the risks are not what dissenters to totalitarian regimes faced historically or face today—cancel culture does not put you in jail. One still can write a dissenting op-ed without the fear of being stripped of their citizenship and expelled from the country, as Solzhenitsyn was for his writings [83]. We still can criticize DEI policies without fear of being put under house arrest, as Sakharov was for his vocal opposition to nuclear weapons and his unwavering defense of human rights [87]. But if we delay, some of the totalitarian nightmares of the past may become a reality. There are already worrying signs of this totalitarian-style repression in America: parents opposing CSJ in schools have been accused of terrorism and investigated by the FBI [94]; a journalist who wrote about collusion between the government and social media was paid a surprise home visit by the Internal Revenue Service [95]; a student who questioned the concept of microaggressions [96] at a mandatory training was expelled and forced to “seek to psychological services” [97]. These incidents in America today are chillingly similar to practices in Russia in the Soviet era, when the KGB routinely investigated dissidents, and dissent from Soviet ideology was considered a psychiatric disorder [84,88]. In the absence of resistance, this illiberal movement, like illiberal movements of the past, will gain ever more power, and we will face ever worse repression and erosion of individual freedom.

Inaction does not guarantee survival, but fighting a successful fight does. The only way to defend yourself against repression by an illiberal ideology is to stop the spread of the ideology.

The dangers of inaction are real, but how much risk one should take must be a personal decision [89]. Above all, it rarely does any good to get fired. Getting fired is playing into their hands. It’s one less enemy in the organization to fight against its ideological capture. Should all the dissidents get fired, the ideology wins. Full stop.

But it’s not hopeless. As we elaborate below, there are ways to maximize the impact of your actions and minimize the chances of negative consequences of resistance.

3. How to fight

Although there is no sure-fire roadmap to solve the current crisis, there are some do’s and don’ts. A recently published handbook, Counter Wokecraft (which we highly recommend), written by an anonymous STEM professor, provides concrete recommendations for staging the resistance [98]. It convincingly explains how small but deliberate actions add up to big change and elaborates on the perils of delaying action. In what follows, we offer our view on how to fight, and we share examples of successful acts of resistance that give us reason for hope. Small contributions add up, so do something rather than nothing.  As Gad Saad writes in The Parasitic Mind:

The battle of ideas knows no boundaries, so there is plenty to do. If you are a student and hear your professors spouting postmodern nonsense or spewing anti-science drivel, challenge them politely and constructively. If you are a graduate and your alma mater is violating its commitment to freedom of speech and freedom of thought, withdraw your donations—and let the school know why. If your Facebook friends are posting comments with which you disagree, engage them and offer an alternative viewpoint.... If you are sitting at your local pub having a conversation about a sensitive topic, do not refrain from speaking your mind. If your politicians are succumbing to suicidal political correctness, vote them out of office. [99]

1. Educate yourself; knowledge is power.

To effectively counter the ideology of CSJ, it is crucial to understand its nature and the tactics it employs. As two-time Nobel Laureate Marie Sklodowska-Curie said:

Nothing in life is to be feared, it is only to be understood. Now is the time to understand more, so we may fear less.

Although Curie was referring to phenomena of the natural world, the observation applies equally to the world of ideas. By understanding the origins and tenets of CSJ, we can fear less—and fight more effectively.

For me [Anna] and my former compatriots, who were forcibly schooled in Marxist-Leninism and experienced its implementation as Socialism firsthand, it is easy to recognize the current illiberal movement’s philosophical roots [78,79]. We recognize the familiar rhetoric and the Orwellian co-option of the language: the media outlet of the Communist Party, which disseminated its lies, was called Pravda (Правда), which is Russian for “truth”; victims of Red terror were called “enemies of the people” (враги народа); Soviet troops invading other countries were called “liberators” (освободители); and  nuclear weapons were developed with the slogan “nucleus for the cause of peace” (атом—делу мира). We are used to looking behind the facade of nice-sounding words and seeing their real meaning to those in power [100]. It is not hard to see that today’s “Diversity,” “Equity,” and “Inclusion” have about as much in common with the noble concepts of diversity, equality, and inclusion as Orwell's Ministry of Love had to do with love or his Ministry of Plenty had to do with plenty. (A more-fitting operational definition of DEI would be Discrimination, Entitlement, and Intimidation.) This linguistic tactic is used because it works. It has fooled many STEM academics and ordinary citizens and has enabled the illiberal ideology to get its foot in the door [3].

As Counter Wokecraft explains, the tactics CSJ employs to gain power in our institutions include the use of liberal-sounding “crossover words” to shroud the illiberal aims of the movement [98]. The concise essay “DEI: a Trojan Horse for Critical Social Justice in Science” by the same author offers insights into the philosophy that undergirds the CSJ movement and clearly elucidates its aims [3]. For a deeper dive into CSJ, we recommend the book by Pluckrose and Lindsay [1].

2. Use all existing means of resistance, but first and foremost, the official ones.

Mechanisms of resistance are available through existing institutions, even if the institutions themselves are failing to protect their mission [101]. These mechanisms can be exploited to change the institution from within.

Bukovsky describes how their dissident group worked within the legal boundaries of the Soviet regime [84]. He contrasts this approach with anarchism and revolutionary destructivism, which, he argues, lead to outcomes that are worse than the original evils. Bukovsky and his dissident comrades structured their activism and resistance within the framework of the Soviet constitution—which many legitimately considered to be a joke. When allowed to speak in court, Bukovsky framed his defense to emphasize the constitutional rights of Soviet citizens, for example, to peacefully demonstrate. Bukovsky attributes their success to this strategy. As an example of an important victory, he describes how he and his fellow political prisoners managed to resist and ultimately eliminate mandatory “corrective labor” for political prisoners. Following legal protocols, they rolled out a concerted effort of filing official complaints. Although isolated complaints never had any effect (they would be registered, duly processed, and dismissed), by flooding the bureaucratic system with a massive number of such complaints (which each had to be properly registered and responded to), they pushed the system beyond its limits. The sheer number of complaints compelled administrative scrutiny of the prison and its officers. And the prisoners won the fight.

Today, we can work within the system of our universities and professional organizations, even if they have already been ideologically corrupted. We can participate in surveys; communicate our concerns to leadership; nominate candidates committed to liberal principles to committees and leadership; vote against CSJ ideologues; speak up against practices that violate the stated mission of the institution [43,102,103]; publish well-reasoned opinion pieces [4,14,15,23,82,83,102]; and insist that our institutions adhere to their stated institutional (and legal) commitments to free speech and non-discrimination, such as being equal opportunity employers. Counter Wokecraft [98] provides concrete suggestions on how to effectively oppose the advances of the CSJ agenda by simply insisting that standard protocols of decision-making be followed—that is, through formal meetings with organized discussions that adhere to a set agenda, vote by secret ballot, and so on. In short, the existing governance structures and institutional policies can still be utilized to defend and even restore the institutional mission, even when the institution’s workings have been undermined by CSJ activists.

The following success stories illustrate the effectiveness of working within the system.

At the University of Massachusetts, a faculty group fought—and won—against a proposed rewriting of the university mission statement, which would have redefined the purpose of the university as engaging in political and ideological activism, rather than pursuing the truth [104].

Faculty at the University of Chicago succeeded in having departmental statements that violated institutional neutrality (by voicing collective support for specific social and political issues in violation of the University’s Kalven Report [105]) rescinded [106].

Also at the University of Chicago, in response to faculty complaints to the institution’s Title IX coordinator and general counsel, at least seven programs that gave preferences to specific races or sexes in violation of Federal regulations were discontinued [106].

The faculty of the University of Washington voted down a proposal to require DEI statements for all tenure and promotion candidates [107]. As reported to us, an email campaign initiated by a single faculty member was decisive in defeating the proposal.

At the University of North Carolina (UNC), the Board of Trustees adopted [108] the Chicago Free Speech Principles [109] and Kalven Report [105]. The former articulates the university’s commitment to free speech and is considered to be a model policy on this issue; the latter ensures institutional neutrality, prohibiting units of the university from taking stands on moral, political, or ideological issues, unless they directly affect the mission of the institution.

Also at UNC, responding to a faculty petition, the Board of Governors moved to ban diversity, equity, and inclusion requirements from its hiring and promotion process. The mandate states that the university “shall neither solicit nor require an employee or applicant for academic admission or employment to affirmatively ascribe to or opine about beliefs, affiliations, ideals, or principles regarding matters of contemporary political debate or social action as a condition to admission, employment, or professional advancement” [110].

In California, mathematicians organized a petition that has, so far, blocked the implementation of radical, CSJ-based revisions to the K–12 math curriculum [18]. At the time of publication, the fight is not over; but they’ve won so far.

A new nonprofit, Do No Harm, has been formed to fight against the encroachment of identity politics in medicine [111]. Among their successes, filings with the US Department of Education’s Office for Civil Rights against two medical schools has resulted in the elimination of race as a requirement for certain scholarships. Scholarships “meant for individuals from disadvantaged backgrounds, [a] worthy goal, can and should be met without racial discrimination,” writes the organization’s founder [112].

Adverse publicity and mockery, too, can cause Universities, which are sensitive to their public image, to roll back woke policies, as the following examples illustrate.

The administration of MIT reversed its own decision and reinstated the use of standardized tests for admission [113], the elimination of which had been mocked by dissidents [114].

The Stanford University “Elimination of Harmful Language Initiative” website, which listed 161 verboten expressions, including “beating a dead horse,” “white paper,” “insane,” and even “American,” was taken down after sustained mockery in the press and on social media. The university’s president ultimately disowned the initiative and reaffirmed the university’s commitment to free speech [29].

At the University of Southern California, the interim provost made a clear statement that “the university does not maintain a list of banned or discouraged words” in response to the mockery [115] of an earlier memorandum the university's School of Social Work announcing the cancellation of the word “field” as racist [26,29].

At Texas Tech, the administration announced that it was dropping mandatory DEI statements from the hiring process [116], after details of how these statements influenced hiring decisions had been publicized [9].

These examples illustrate the maxim that sunlight is the best disinfectant [117]. We can use social media and the press to shine a light on the excesses of CSJ to bring about change.

Pressure from state governments can also force universities to change course away from DEI ideology. Facing threats from the state assembly to cut funding, the University of Wisconsin system has announced it will eliminate mandatory DEI statements for job applicants. As we are writing this chapter, the state assembly is also threatening to eliminate funding for administrative positions at UW dedicated to DEI [118].

Arizona has also dealt a blow to DEI ideology. The state’s Board of Regents has mandated that public universities drop the use of DEI statements in hiring. The move was in response to a finding by the Goldwater Institute that DEI statements, which were required in over three-fourths of job postings, were being used “to circumvent the state’s constitutional prohibition against political litmus tests in public educational institutions” [119].

Organizations such as the Academic Freedom Alliance (AFA) and the Foundation for Individual Rights and Expression (FIRE) have successfully used institutions’ own governing policies and bylaws as well as the law to defend scores of scholars who have been attacked for their extramural speech and threatened with administrative discipline or firing [120,121].

A move is afoot to strengthen universities’ commitment to academic freedom by encouraging them to officially adopt the Chicago Trifecta (the Kalven report, the Chicago Principles, and the Shils report). The “Restoring Academic Freedom” letter [122], which calls on universities to do so, has garnered 1700 signatures so far.

3. Don't play their game: You can’t win.

We are trained to seek compromises and solutions that bring different groups on board; we seek consensus. That is a fine approach under normal circumstances, when all agents are acting in good faith. But we must recognize that we are up against agents who are driven—knowingly or unknowingly—by an ideology whose goal is to take over the institution. Every compromise with them brings them closer to their goal [1,3,74,98,123]. Therefore, we must stand our ground.

A major advance in the spread of illiberalism has been the establishment of DEI bureaucracies in our intuitions to enforce CSJ ideology through policy [3,8,98,124-127]. It is important to understand the power of this system and to distinguish the system from the people. A DEI apparatchik can be a nice, well-meaning individual, who has been fooled by the movement’s deliberately deceptive language [1,98]; a cynical opportunist who seeks power and career advancement; or a True Believer. A DEI administrator may be completely unaware of the philosophical origins of CSJ, whose goals the DEI machine has been installed to implement. But just as a Soviet apparatchik need not have read Das Kapital to have been an agent enforcing conformity to Marxist doctrine, a DEI apparatchik need not have read the works of the critical theorists Gramsci, Derrida, Foucault, Bell, Crenshaw, and Delgado to be implementing CSJ-inspired ideology. But even participants who are naive of the movement’s history, philosophy, or ultimate goals are furthering its aims; they are still cogs in the machine. Do not be fooled by DEI administrators who may naively or deceptively deny that they are advancing CSJ ideology. They are, whether or not they know it or acknowledge it.

The power of the system—the DEI bureaucracy—and its ideological foundation make the motivations of the individual participants irrelevant. The story of Tabia Lee illustrates this point [128]. Lee—a black woman who directed a DEI program at a community college in California—questioned anti-racist and gender orthodoxy, declined to join a “socialist network,” objected to land acknowledgments and Newspeak terms such as “Latinx,” “Filipinx,” and neopronouns, and supported a campus event focused on Jewish inclusion and antisemitism. Lee describes her non-orthodox worldview as follows:

I don’t have ideological or viewpoint fidelity to anyone. I’m looking for what’s going to help people and what will help our students and how we can be better teachers and our best teaching selves. [128]

This attitude was found to be incompatible with the ideology of DEI. When Lee refused to change her worldview to comply with the orthodoxy, she was terminated from her position [128].

The establishment of the DEI bureaucracy in our institutions represented a tectonic shift from CSJ as a grass-roots movement to CSJ as an official power structure within the university equipped with a massive budget to promote its ideology [124,126,129-132].

A 2021 report by the Heritage Foundation [130], which documented the size of this new bureaucracy, identified 3,000 administrators with DEI responsibilities among the 65 universities they surveyed [124,131]. This number is in addition to the already extensive staff of Federally mandated Title VI, Title IX, and disability offices, who also perform DEI-related tasks. The new diversicrats already outnumber the mandated staffers. For example, the average university examined had 4.2 DEI personnel for every one ADA compliance administrator [124]. Given the sheer number of DEI officials and their generous salaries (one-third of chief diversity officers are paid more than $200,000 annually [132]), it is not surprising that DEI budgets are enormous; for example, in 2021, UC–Berkeley dedicated 41 million dollars to DEI [129].

The DEI bureaucracy is given official status within the university and is empowered to interfere in faculty hiring, to disseminate CSJ ideology by means of mandatory trainings, to infuse the ideology into teaching [10,13,16,25,31], and to curtail academic freedom [42,127]. Khalid and Snyder provide insight into the logic and financial incentives behind the DEI machine:

This attitude was found to be incompatible with the ideology of DEI. When Lee refused to change her worldview to comply with the orthodoxy, she was terminated from her position [128].

The establishment of the DEI bureaucracy in our institutions represented a tectonic shift from CSJ as a grass-roots movement to CSJ as an official power structure within the university equipped with a massive budget to promote its ideology [124,126,129-132].

A 2021 report by the Heritage Foundation [130], which documented the size of this new bureaucracy, identified 3,000 administrators with DEI responsibilities among the 65 universities they surveyed [124,131]. This number is in addition to the already extensive staff of Federally mandated Title VI, Title IX, and disability offices, who also perform DEI-related tasks. The new diversicrats already outnumber the mandated staffers. For example, the average university examined had 4.2 DEI personnel for every one ADA compliance administrator [124]. Given the sheer number of DEI officials and their generous salaries (one-third of chief diversity officers are paid more than $200,000 annually [132]), it is not surprising that DEI budgets are enormous; for example, in 2021, UC–Berkeley dedicated 41 million dollars to DEI [129].

The DEI bureaucracy is given official status within the university and is empowered to interfere in faculty hiring, to disseminate CSJ ideology by means of mandatory trainings, to infuse the ideology into teaching [10,13,16,25,31], and to curtail academic freedom [42,127]. Khalid and Snyder provide insight into the logic and financial incentives behind the DEI machine:

DEI Inc. is a logic, a lingo, and a set of administrative policies and practices. The logic is as follows: Education is a product, students are consumers, and campus diversity is a customer-service issue that needs to be administered from the top down. (“Chief Diversity Officers,” according to an article in Diversity Officer Magazine, “are best defined as ‘change-management specialists.’”) DEI Inc. purveys a safety-and-security model of learning that is highly attuned to harm and that conflates respect for minority students with unwavering affirmation and validation.

Lived experience, the intent–impact gap, microaggressions, trigger warnings, inclusive excellence. You know the language of DEI Inc. when you hear it. It’s a combination of management-consultant buzzwords, social justice slogans, and “therapy speak.” The standard package of DEI Inc. administrative “initiatives” should be familiar too, from antiracism trainings to bias-response teams and mandatory diversity statements for hiring and promotion. [127]

The DEI bureaucracy is a categorical enemy. Don't deceive yourself that you can work with it to accomplish good for your institution [128]. This bureaucracy is founded on ideas that are in direct opposition to the liberal enlightenment and humanism [1,3,4,42,79,99,125–128,133,134]. Their goals are not your goals; consequently, you cannot ally or compromise with them. We must, instead, focus our efforts on stripping the DEI bureaucracy of its power, ideally, ridding the institution of it completely. This will not be an easy fight, but neither is it an impossible dream. State legislatures are already taking action against DEI. At the time of this writing, 35 states have introduced bills that would restrict or ban DEI offices and staff, mandatory DEI training, diversity statements, and/or identity-based preferences for hiring and admissions [135]. Recognizing that such bills could go too far and compromise academic freedom, the Manhattan Institute has drafted model legislation that would abolish DEI bureaucracies on campuses while preserving academic freedom [136]. To date, at least one state, Texas, has enacted legislation based on the Manhattan Institute’s model [137].

Another reason not to attempt to work with the DEI bureaucracy is that CSJ ideology leaves no space for rational dialog. As explained by McWhorter [71], Pincourt [3,98], Pluckrose [1], Saad [99], and others, CSJ is not a rational or empirical worldview, but an ideology whose adherents have accepted a set of unfalsifiable tenets that may not be questioned. Thus, CSJ ideologues are not open to reasoned arguments that contradict their worldview; it is, thus, futile to argue with them. We need, instead, to reason with those of our colleagues who have not yet drunk of the Kool Aid.

Finally, since the goal of CSJ is to take over the institution, small compromises with them ultimately lead to large losses for us. Give CSJ an inch, and it will take a mile. Consider, for starters, the following example, in which the dean of the Duke Divinity School made the mistake of conceding to student activists, which led to ever-increasing demands and personal attacks on the dean herself [138]. “The chickens have come home to roost at Duke’s divinity school,” writes John Staddon. Dean Heath, the dean of the school, fully allied herself with the CSJ agenda, rolled out a variety of DEI initiatives, issued a self-flagellating editorial admitting the “structural sins” of the school, and forced non-conforming faculty to resign. Yet, despite these concessions, the demands of “marginalized groups” only grew stronger, culminating in uncivil acts, such as the disruption of the dean’s state-of-the-school address by “four dissident female students bearing bull-horns and chanting, ‘I am somebody and I won’t be stopped by nobody,’ followed by a rap, a little theatrical performance [of a rude nature].”

Staddon writes:

There is poetic justice in this incident. Despite the dean’s earnest attempts “to provide a welcoming and safe place for students,” even after she designed “a space for the work of Sacred Worth, the LGBTQIA+ student group in the Divinity School”—even after disciplining, and losing—Professor Griffiths [a non-conforming faculty], in spite all this, she has apparently not done enough! The LGBT folk want more, much more, in the form of 15 demands. “We make up an integral part of this community, and yet our needs remain deliberately unheard.”

The demands include:

“To appoint a black trans woman or gender non-conforming theologian” as well as “a tenure-track trans woman theologian” and a “tenure-track queer theologian of color, preferably a black or indigenous person.”

A dissident MIT website, the Babbling Beaver [139], illustrates the same point by a mock resignation statement by MIT’s former President Reif:

You would think giving them a Women’s and Gender Studies Program, hiring six dozen DEI deans and staffers, most of whom couldn’t pass 18.01 [MIT’s introductory math course] if their lives depended on it, and cancelling invited lecturers to appease shouting Twitter mobs would be enough,” lamented the weary lame duck. “But noooo ... The only thing I accomplished by giving in to the incessant demands was encouraging additional demands, each more strident than the last.” [140]

The statement is satire, but the concessions made by the president and the ever-increasing demands were real.

Stories of how CSJ, once it is let in the door, rapidly infiltrates the organization and eventually takes it over are too many to enumerate. We present but one example, where the process has been meticulously documented. The report, spon.sored by the organization Alumni and Donors Unite, explains how CSJ took over University of San Diego “first gradually then suddenly.”

Gradually, over the course of a decade, CSJ-DEI became sown into the university’s fabric through changes in hiring committees and curriculum. Then suddenly in 2020–2021 the administration, outside all normal channels of decision-making, initiated a hostile takeover of USD and adopted a radical woke agenda into nearly all facets of the university’s life. [141]

The devaluation of merit and intellectual honesty in the guise of social justice that we now witness will inevitably lead to the decline of our institutions, if not to their destruction [4]. A case in point is The Evergreen State University, which, in 2017, experienced a notorious CSJ uprising on campus [142]. Since then, the university has suffered a 25% drop in enrollment and has lost 45 faculty through lay-offs and attrition [143].

Learn how to recognize and take on categorical enemies [98]. Remember—it is a zero sum game.

4. Focus on truth, not partisanship. Do not fear verbal attacks.

When you take on CSJ, there is something you will need to come to terms with: you are going to be called names, and your views and beliefs are going to be distorted and misrepresented. These are standard tactics of the CSJ movement. Since the adherents of CSJ have adopted an ideological, rather than a rational, worldview, they cannot rationally defend it; so they use the only tools they have: personal attacks and strawman arguments. They will call you transphobe, racist, misogynist, alt-right, Nazi, etc., no matter what you say or do. They will use deliberate misrepresentation of your expressions to subvert and discredit them [98]. They will use the “Motte and Bailey” trick [144] to derail conversations. Learn about these tactics so that you can anticipate, recognize, and counter them [98]. As Gad Saad explains:

The name calling and accusations are locked and loaded threats, ready to be deployed against you should you dare to question the relevant progressive tenets. Most people are too afraid to be accused of being racist or misogynist, and so they cover in silence.… Don't fall prey to this silencing strategy. Be assured in your principles and stand ready to defend them with the ferocity of a honey badger. [99]

Because you will be attacked no matter what you believe, what you say, or how carefully you say it, there is no point in affirming in your interactions with CSJ ideologues that you are committed to traditional humanistic, liberal values. They don’t care. In her essay “I'm a Progressive, Please Don't Hurt Me,” Sarah Haider calls this practice of hedging “throat-clearing” and explains why it is not effective [145]. She also points out the hidden bigotry of it, that is, the implicit assumption that those on the other side of the aisle are inherently evil. Haider writes:

Before touching on any perspective that I knew to not be kosher among other Leftists, I tended to precede with some version of throat-clearing: “I’m on the left” or “I’ve voted Democrat my whole life.” I told myself that this was a distinction worth insisting on because 1) it was the truth and 2) because it helped frame the discussion properly—making clear that the argument is coming from someone who values what they value. But there was another reason too. My political identity reminders were a plea to be considered fully and charitably, to not be villainized and presumed to be motivated by “hate.” The precursor belief to this, of course, is that actual conservatives should not be taken charitably, are rightfully villainized, and really are motivated by “hate.” But I’m done sputtering indignantly about being mischaracterized as “conservative,” or going out of my way to remind the audience that I really am a good little liberal.

She goes on to explain that throat-clearing is counterproductive because: (1) it doesn’t work, you won't be spared; (2) it is a tax on energy and attention; (3) it is bad for you; and (4) it is bad for the causes you care about.

So we should stop worrying about our group loyalties and focus on our cause. Truth wears no clothes, so do not try to dress it up in partisan attire. Say what you mean, mean what you say, and move on.

It may be tempting to stay out of the fight in order to preserve friendships. It is true that some people you thought of as friends may turn against you—privately or even publicly. It has happened to us, and it hurts. But it also lets you know who your real friends are—those who stick up for you whether they agree with your views or not. And you will find new friends and allies who share your values. These relationships, forged fighting the good fight, will be enduring and empowering.

5. Do not apologize.

We cannot stress this enough. Your apology will be taken as a sign of weakness and will not absolve you—in fact, it will make matters worse. Apologies to the illiberal mob are like drops of blood in the water to a pack of sharks. Additionally, your apology can be interpreted as an admission of guilt, which can come back to haunt you in the event you need to defend yourself legally or in an administrative proceeding. The Academic Freedom Alliance advises: “If you confess to an offense you didn’t commit, or if you concede to a claim or accusation that is factually inaccurate or not truly an offense, the admission can and will be used against you.” [146] Recognize that the CSJ activists on Twitter do not care about your apology; they care about publicly flaying you in order to sow fear among other potential dissenters [147]. Someone claims to have been offended by your speech? Someone claims it caused them pain? Fine, that's their problem [148]. You know what your views are. And your friends do too. Stay on message. 

6. Build a community and a network.

Communities and networks provide moral support and there is safety in numbers. Some groups already exist. The Heterodox Academy (HxA), for example, provides a platform to organize communities (e.g., HxSTEM is a community of STEM faculty) and to connect with colleagues who are open to reasoned debate, as per the HxA statement, which each member is asked to endorse: “I support open inquiry, viewpoint diversity, and constructive disagreement in research and education.” The Foundation Against Intolerance and Racism (FAIR) also provides resources and support to those who push back on anti-humanistic policies, especially in schools, universities, and in the medical profession.

Organizations like FIRE and the Academic Freedom Alliance (AFA) provide educational resources, opportunities to network, and—most importantly—protection, including legal representation. Join and support them. Build groups and act as a group—e.g., write an op-ed piece with a group of co-authors. Ten people are harder to cancel than one. Counter Wokecraft describes how to identify the allies among your colleagues and how to build effective resistance at your workplace [98].

Stand up for others. Next time they will do it for you. When you see a colleague being ostracized for what she said, think first, “Which parts of her message do I agree with?” not “Which parts do I disagree with?” If you agree with the main message, say so, and be charitable about imperfect expression. Way too often do we hear colleagues justifying their silence with excuses like “I agree with her in general, but she should have been more careful about how she said this or that.”

Some communities, including mathematicians and psychologists, in response to CSJ takeovers of their professional societies, have simply started new ones [149,150]. Perhaps we need more of these to send a strong message to the old societies that they need to change course. We see evidence of the effectiveness of this strategy; for example, the American Mathematical Society [151] cancelled its CSJ-dominated blog shortly after the establishment of the new Association for Mathematical Research [149], whose apolitical mission is simply to “support  mathematical research and scholarship.”

In 2022, in response to increasing ideological influence and censorship in their profession, behavioral scientists founded the Society for Open Inquiry in the Behavioral Sciences, dedicated to “open inquiry, civil debate, and rigorous standards” in the field [152]. It publishes the Journal of Open Inquiry in the Behavioral Sciences, which commits to “free inquiry,” “rigorous standards,” and “intellectual exchange” [152]. Notably, its terms and conditions state that the journal will base retraction decisions strictly on the basis of the widely accepted COPE guidelines [153]; otherwise, the terms and conditions state, “We will never retract a paper in response to social media mobs, open or private letters calling for retraction, denunciation petitions, or the like....” [154]

There is even a new university—The University of Austin (UATX)—established in response to the current crisis in higher education [155]. The message on the UATX webpage—“We are building a university dedicated to the fearless pursuit of truth”—makes clear what void in the American academy UATX aspires to fill [156]. That the university received over $100 million in donations and over 3500 inquiries by professors from other institutions within six months of the project’s announcement, makes clear the demand [157].

The success of such new initiatives will inspire more educators and scientists to stand up and defend the key principles of science and education. And it will send a strong message to our leadership. Even if we cannot appeal to their sense of duty, the financial considerations (Go Woke, Go Broke [158]) and the effect of negative publicity of the excesses of CSJ (such as DEI loyalty oaths, “decolonizing” the curriculum, renaming everything, and Newspeak [9,23,24,139]) may provide incentives to straighten out their act.

4. Conclusion

Will we succeed? Will we stop the train before it goes over the cliff? We do not know what will happen if we fight. But we know what will happen if we don’t. The task ahead might look impossible. But remember the USSR. It looked like an unbreakable power, yet in the end it collapsed like a house of cards. The Berlin Wall looked indestructible, yet it came down overnight. Recalling his 20 years’ experience in the gay marriage debate, Jonathan Rauch told us: “I can tell you that the wall of received opinion is sturdy and impenetrable...until it isn't. And that it's the quiet people in the room who are the swing vote.... and please illegitimi non carborundum [159].”

We are not helpless. We have agency and we should not be afraid to exercise it. We should fight not just because it is the right thing to do, but because fighting brings results. If we behave as if we were living in a totalitarian society, it will become a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Afterword

A Russian proverb says, “Fear has big eyes” (у страха глаза велики), meaning that people tend to exaggerate danger. Accordingly, it may feel like resisting the mob will inevitably lead to career damage. But this is not the case; the flip side of risk is reward. In recognition of her activism, including her publication of “The Peril of Politicizing Science” [23], which “launched a national conversation among scientists and the general public,” Anna Krylov, co-author of this chapter, was awarded the inaugural Communicator of the Year Award, Sciences and Mathematics, by the USC Dornsife College of Letters, Arts, and Sciences [160]. In “Victory Lap” [161], Lee Jussim, co-editor of the book in which this article will appear, documents how as a result of his public resistance to a mob attack on a colleague falsely accused of racism, his career enjoyed a variety of benefits including additional conferences invitations, massive positive public support for his activism, national attention to his scholarship, and an appointment to a departmental chair (with commensurate increase in salary), which he was offered because he had demonstrated that he could take the heat.

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Stop saying "nO oNe iS sAyInG aNy oF tHiS!!" They are. You know they are. Dotted throughout the article are references to sources for quotes and claims. For the list of references, see: References.

Liberalism really is under attack. It's always been under attack from the religous right, but its influence has diminished over time, with society becoming increasingly secular and irreligious, or at least indifferent to religious influence. And principles like the US's First Amendment keep it, at least in theory, from breaching the threshold.

But where the religious attack is on the downswing, the attack from the illiberal left is on the upswing, and both more rapid and more successful, having infiltrated everything from government to science and even knitting clubs. And it hides behind nice-sounding words like "equity" and "diversity," people don't recognize it for what it is, and welcome it inside in a way they don't welcome religious intrusion.

This isn't about left vs right. It's about do we want a liberal society, or do we want a rampantly illiberal, or indeed anti-liberal society?

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