When Angels Fall [Oneshot]
Author: erodedveins
Pairing: LuKai
Genre: Angst
Word-count: 4274
Rating: R
Summary: "When Jongin meets LuHan, he makes the worst mistake of his life."
WARNING: Sexual exploitation of a minor, child abuse
The first memory Jongin has is a flash of bright light, and a warm loving voice saying "Everything will be alright, my son".
He figures that the memory is from the accident when he was 5. The car crash that killed his father. The crash that changed his mother forever.
=-=
"Get up, you lazy piece of shit," his mother smacked his forehead harshly with a wooden spoon. "You're late for school." Jongin's eyes shot open, and he sat up quickly. His mother shuffled out of the room, and he dressed hurriedly. He almost cried when he realized that his tardiness was most definitely going to cost him this time.
By the time he reached school, it was already almost lunch time. He tried to slip into his classroom unnoticed, but of course... His teacher would notice him.
"Ahh, Mr. Kim Jongin. Finally decide to join us, did you?" Jongin froze, his cheeks burning. He stuttered out a reply, and sat in his seat listening to the snickers of his classmates. "Well, seeing as this is your 3rd time this month being late, you have 3 days of detention after school." Jongin groaned.
No one came to sit by him. When projects were announced, no one partnered up with him. The teacher seemed not to notice if he ever got tripped, but if he ever did something wrong (which was all too often)... God help him.
No one liked Jongin. That much had been crystal clear from day one, and that was true for every single school he'd ever been to. No one liked him. He'd never had a single friend, ever. At his current school, he'd broken down one day, and asked one of his kinder classmates why everybody hated him. She'd shifted uncomfortably, looking around to see if anyone else was present.
"You're just too weird. It's like... You give off this vibe that we're not good enough for you or something," her eyes widened when she saw a couple of her friends walking down the hall and she shoved him away, much to the amusement of said friends.
Jongin didn't understand what she meant by him "giving off a vibe". It couldn't be that bad, could it?
=-=
The only solace Jongin found was in the halls of a church. Despite everything he endured in his life, Jongin felt a deep connection with God. He often had whole conversations with God, and he'd be at peace by the time he was finished talking.
Jongin didn't understand why he felt the way he did. Something in him, some human instinct, told him he should actually be very, very angry with God for the life he had now. But there was nothing where he should have felt anger. It was like the church clouded his emotions, allowing him only peace.
"God, I don't understand sometimes..," Jongin sighed. "Why has my life turned out this way? Have I done something wrong? Whatever it is, I'm sorry." Images of all the things wrong in his life flashed before his eyes. "Whatever I did to deserve this life.. Please know.. I'm paying for it with every breath leaving my body."
He got up and nodded at Father Siwon in greeting. The look on his face caused Father Siwon to furrow his eyebrows in silent question. He shook his head, and mouthed "nothing".
That was the first time Jongin ever walked out of church not feeling serene and at peace.
=-=
Jongin came home and as soon as he stepped in the door, the scent of soju practically smacked him in the face. He closed his eyes, mentally preparing himself.
It was one thing to live with an alcoholic (which Jongin thought he could've handled, actually). It was something else entirely to live with an alcoholic who hated your very existence.
He walked into the living room, tensing his muscles. His mother was sitting there alone, for once. There were at least a dozen empty soju bottles on the coffee table. She turned and looked at him with bloodshot eyes.
"Ah~," she slurred. "So the little brat's back, eh? Welcome home, honey," she mocked, and Jongin flinched when she set another bottle down. "Come'ere. Pick these up." She burped and sat back.
Jongin walked over uneasily. He grabbed several bottles quickly and panicked when he heard his mother mumbling angrily behind him. The next thing he knew, she had smashed a bottle over his scalp. He crumpled to the floor, the bottles in his arms shattering below him. All he heard was a loud ringing in his ears, even though he could see his mother screaming at him (probably about the broken bottles). His vision darkened and he slumped on the broken bottle pieces, unconscious.
When he woke up, his mother was nowhere in sight. He glanced over to the shoe rack by the door and saw her going-out heels were missing. Great... Another night of being woken up, jabbed in the chest with her long fingernails, hearing her scream about how the dishes weren't clean enough. He sighed, and began picking all the shards of glass out of his skin.
=-=
The next evening, Jongin came home early and when he stepped inside, he knew immediately that his mother was already on the warpath. She throwing things all around the living room. Pictures, to be exact. Almost as soon as he stepped in view of the living room, a picture frame came flying at his face. With his luck, it caught him right on the bridge of his nose, and he could immediately feel the blood gushing. He whimpered with pain.
"You little pussy," she stumbled towards him. "You're just like your father." Jongin jumped when she put her hands on his shoulders. His heart was beating wildly, like a bird trying to escape its cage. He closed his eyes, expecting to get hit. Instead, she only moved closer to him. "It's your fault he died," she hissed, and Jongin could hear the tears in her voice. "It’s your fault! Yours!"
The guilt settled at the bottom of his stomach, weighing him down like an anchor despite the small voice in his head saying miserably 'No! I didn't do anything wrong!'. He struggled to breathe around the sudden lump in his throat. He slumped to the ground, taking his mother with him. She was crying, a slobbering drunk mess. After she calmed down a little, Jongin helped her down the hallway to her bedroom, where he laid her down and saw her to sleep.
It was only as he passed the calendar in the hallway that he realized what the date was. December 5th. It had been 11 years since his father died in the accident. The accident that was, according to his mother, somehow his fault.
=-=
The only talent Jongin had in the world was singing. He sang and sang by himself in church, feeling that somehow it was the right thing to do.
"Oh Jongin, you've got the voice of an angel!" He'd heard the sisters say that particular phrase so often he was beyond sick of hearing it. He'd never much liked it to begin with, but having it shoved in his face day after day... Well, it had gotten old.
Father Siwon had begged him to be in the choir, but Jongin refused. Singing was his gift, yes, but that didn't mean he wanted to share it with the rest of the churchgoers. Some sad part of him was pleased with that logic, that kind of self-imposed cageyness.
It was through his singing that Jongin met Luhan. And when he glanced over warm eyes and kind hands he didn't know it yet, but that meeting would turn out to be the worst mistake of his life.
=-=
Jongin was singing his heart out when he heard applause in the aisle. He turned around quickly, unaware that he'd had an audience. He sucked in a breath at the man standing there.
The stranger looked sharp, wearing his designer dress suit and gelled hair. His expression, Jongin assumed, was supposed to inspire trust and friendliness. But Jongin had learned every single day that there was no such thing as trust and friendship. He automatically assumed a hunched posture, and put his hands in his pockets with projected reticence. The guy stepped forward.
"I'm Luhan. What's your name?"
Jongin shrugged. "It doesn't matter. I'm not interested in whatever you're selling."
Luhan laughed, like he thought Jongin was joking. "Are you sure? I could make you famous."
Jongin edged a little closer. "How?" He wondered.
Luhan looked at him with incredulity. "With a face and voice like yours? Come on, you were born to be famous." Jongin began weighing his options right away. He still didn't trust Luhan, but... his whole life, no one had ever wanted to be anywhere near him. Now.. he had a chance at having thousands of people knowing who he was and loving him, even if it was from a distance. He bit his lip.
"My name's Jongin," he said at last, and LuHan broke out into a smile.
"Jongin, we are going to do beautiful things together."
=-=
Somehow, word got out at his school that he'd been given the chance to become an idol. The teasing and bullying got even worse. Instead of having the bruises and cuts from just his mother, Jongin had them everywhere from his classmates. From the daily beatings he received outside the school gates. From the people who still managed to trip him in class.
Through it all, he endured. During the beatings, he thought of his future fans, and their love of him. He thought of LuHan, who actually seemed nice. Who actually wanted to be around him.
He picked himself back up after a particularly rough beating and headed to the company building where LuHan was helping him become an idol. Apparently, there was all kinds of stuff he needed to know first (and despite LuHan telling him he had a gorgeous face, the company paid for him to have a nose job, have his eyes widened, and all kinds of other surgeries to correct the imperfections Jongin never knew he had).
"Jongin.. I don't know where you keep getting these," LuHan sighed and looked up from his position tending to the bruises on Jongin's torso. "But I really wish you'd tell me. We could put you up in a company dorm, or even move you to a different school if you'd like." Jongin's eyes widened.
He'd never thought about moving out of his mother's house before. He never imagined being able to escape that hellish home. He gripped the edge of the bench he was sitting on tightly, and looked at LuHan.
"That'd be okay?" he asked in a small voice. LuHan chuckled.
"Of course it'd be okay. The only snag might be getting your mom's permission," Jongin's heart sank. He hung his head.
"Nevermind, then." When LuHan forced him to look up, he blushed at the intensity of the man’s gaze.
"Does she hurt you, Jongin? Is that where these bruises come from?" Jongin's heart started beating overtime. He blinked and despaired, knowing he was a horrible liar. He shook his head quickly.
"N-no. No way. She does the best she can," he reasoned. LuHan pulled him close and cradled him tenderly.
"Oh Jongin...," the pity and disappointment in LuHan's voice made Jongin feel like sobbing. He stood up suddenly, struggling out of the contact.
"I think I'm gonna leave now," he ignored LuHan's pleas, and practically sprinted to the bus stop.
He didn't stop crying until he reached the church building he felt so comfortable in.
=-=
Jongin came home to the most unbelievably cruel sight in the world.
His belongings were already packed in boxes, waiting for him at the door. His mother stood at the edge of the living room, smoking a cigarette. She gazed at him silently, her eyes full of malicious glee. He looked at her desperately.
"Your 'friend' LuHan called while you were gone. We had a nice little chat about you, and.. Well. He’ll be here to pick you up shortly," she let out a low chuckle. "Good riddance."
Jongin had learned at an early age to shut his emotions off when he was around his mother, but.. It wasn't working this time. It hurt to know she cared so little that she could give him up so freely.
"M-mom..," he choked out. "I-..I.." She raised a bottle of soju to her lips and he flinched.
"Don't you dare say those words," his mother's voice was trembling. Definitely a sign he'd almost gone too far. "And never again refer to me as 'Mom' or any form of that word. You're dead to me, you understand?" Jongin sank to his knees. His mind blanked. The only thing that registered was the pain in his chest. Like someone was ripping him apart from the inside out.
The next thing he was aware of was LuHan helping him into the passenger seat of his car. He broke down sobbing, and LuHan reached across the seat to pat his thigh comfortingly.
"Everything will be fine, Jongin. You'll see," Jongin didn't believe that for one second. And when LuHan's hand trailed further and further up his thigh, he didn't have the energy to fight back. He simply closed his eyes and let it happen.
=-=
LuHan acted like nothing had happened. He still acted like he cared about Jongin.
It was confusing. Jongin didn't know how to feel about it. All he knew was that the thing that had happened in the car... It was very, very bad. He just knew that God would be displeased with it. A part of him wondered why. Why he even cared that God would be disappointed. God had given him a horrible life so far. Why should he be thankful for that?
"Jonginnie. Could you come here for a second?" Jongin headed into the living room, where LuHan was putting up a couple of pictures on the mantlepiece. He frowned when he realized that his favorite picture of his mom and dad wasn't there. "Why are all your pictures of Jesus?" there was a joking tone in LuHan's voice, but it made Jongin uncomfortable. It was the kind of tone that his bullies at school used. He blushed, and shuffled his feet.
"They're not all of Jesus," he mumbled. "I used to have one of my mom and dad, before I was born..," he trailed off, the events of December 5th replaying in his mind. LuHan looked at him apologetically.
"I'm sorry, Jongin.. I didn't know it was a sensitive topic," LuHan came closer to him, and hugged him tightly. "Forgive me?" Jongin nodded against LuHan's chest.
"Of course," he smiled up at LuHan shyly. After a few seconds of looking directly in LuHan's eyes, he shifted his gaze downwards. He could only hold someone's gaze for so long before he started to feel nervous and upset.
LuHan tilted his face back up and smiled softly. "It's okay, Jongin. Everything will be fine." Jongin's smile disappeared. That was exactly what LuHan had said, right before... Jongin's stomach dropped. He saw LuHan bending down, and then their lips were touching. He felt his heart fluttering rapidly. He.. he realized he liked kissing LuHan.
Jongin opened his eyes when the pressure on his lips disappeared. LuHan was looking down at him as if he was a piece of meat.
"You like me, don't you Jongin?" rapidly, Jongin nodded his head. What a silly question to ask. LuHan was probably the only person in the world who cared about him. Of course he'd like LuHan. "Then...," LuHan unzipped his pants and gently pushed Jongin to his knees. "Please..? Will you help a friend in need?"
Jongin hesitantly opened his mouth and took LuHan's erect member in his mouth. It tasted like eternal damnation.
=-=
When he wasn't in his idol training classes or in school, Jongin could usually be found wandering. He didn't like being in his dorm room much, since...
LuHan insisted on acting like nothing was different between them, but Jongin knew better. He might have been innocent (once upon a time, at least), but he wasn't stupid.
LuHan tried to pretend that he loved Jongin, and for the most part Jongin let him live in that fantasy. Maybe he should've told LuHan he knew the truth, but.. really, he wanted to preserve whatever relationship they had as much as LuHan did. LuHan meant something to him, after all.
There were times when Jongin was walking down the street that he could've swore he saw a familiar face. A familiar face that he didn't know, strangely.
The closer it got to his debut date, the more frequently he saw the stranger. He couldn't for the life of him remember how or why that face seemed so familiar, but... the more he saw of the stranger, the more certain he became that something was wrong. He got such an awful feeling about himself when the stranger was anywhere near him. It was like a piece of himself had gone missing. It didn't make any sense.
After seven months of being followed (and he knew without a doubt that he was being followed), Jongin decided that the next chance he got, he was going to confront the stranger/stalker about it. Whether he liked the answer or not.
=-=
One week later, Jongin got the news that the higher-ups were preparing events for his debut. It had barely been a year since he met LuHan in his favorite church... It felt extremely surreal to know that in one more month, he was going to be on a stage, singing and dancing his heart out. One more month, and he was going to be in front of thousands of screaming fans who loved him.
...Or not. LuHan came up to him beaming, and hugged him tightly. The hug felt differently than it used to, though. Jongin noticed that it wasn't quite as sincere.
"Jongin... Umm. The higher-ups would prefer that you not use your real name. Jongin is just.. blah. Boring," LuHan's smile seemed a little more forced when he noticed Jongin wince at 'boring'. "So.. they came up with a new name for you. Your stage name is.. Kai."
Kai. Kai. ... It felt strange to be called by anything other than his given name. Unnatural, even. Jongin looked at LuHan's forced smile, and the strength just drained out of him. He returned the smile, though it was somewhat lacking if LuHan's sudden frown was anything to go by.
"I like it," the lie didn't even sound convincing to himself. "So... I'm Kai." He started walking towards the exit, his shoulders slumped. "Fucking great."
=-=
Jongin had been told to enjoy the privilege of not having his every move scrutinised while it lasted, and so he took to roaming the streets. He saw his familiar-yet-not stalker often, but every time he tried to get close, the stranger magically slipped away into the crowd.
Honestly, it was getting beyond frustrating. Just once.. He'd like to get a straight answer. LuHan had been avoiding him for a couple of days, and Jongin didn't even want to think about why. There could be nothing good behind the reason, for sure.
Once, he was sitting in a cafe not far from the entertainment building where he was being trained, and he heard a familiar chuckle. He turned slightly to look behind him. Immediately, he wished he hadn't. LuHan was sitting with some extremely pretty girl (probably about his age, from the looks of it), drinking coffee and charming her the way he had Jongin.
Jongin felt a lump in his throat and a tell-tale sting in his eyes. He knew that being with LuHan that way was unhealthy and wrong, but... It didn't matter. It still hurt to see him with a girl. LuHan had made Jongin feel special, and now. Now, Jongin questioned his self-worth. Jongin questioned if LuHan had ever really cared at all.
=-=
It was the night of his premiere. His showcase. He ran through his lines in his head (because they weren't even going to let him speak for himself), and rolled his shoulders. He could already hear people screaming for him, but it didn't feel as good as he'd hoped it would. In fact, he felt downright awful, since it wasn't really his name they were screaming.
LuHan was standing next to him, giving him an apologetic look.
"Kai, listen--," "It's Jongin," he interrupted harshly. LuHan looked a little scandalised but cleared his throat. "Right. Jongin.. there's something I have to tell you. I just.. You know I care, right?" LuHan pleaded, and Jongin shut his emotions down. His heart was breaking, he knew, but he felt no pain.
"I get it," his voice sounded cold. Emotionless. "You don't have to say anything, LuHan. I already know." LuHan smiled insincerely. Jongin recoiled when he leaned in for a hug, noticing that LuHan's eyes were full of relief. LuHan frowned, and walked off.
"And now, ladies and gents, introducing our newest company addition... Kai!" The crowd went nuts, and Kai walked out on stage. Kai, not Jongin. Because that's who everyone had paid to see. Jongin was just a broken mess of a little boy.
=-=
It was almost a month after his showcase that he finally had his chance with the stalker/stranger.
Jongin had quickly grown used to wearing sunglasses and hats and scarves (thankfully, it was still cold enough to use them) as his disguise. And so.. The mysterious stranger didn't recognize him.
On a particularly cold, cloudy afternoon, Jongin was at his usual cafe when he looked outside and saw the guy who haunted his dreams. Coffee instantly forgotten about, he sprinted out of the cafe and down the street. The stranger was easy enough to catch up to, and Jongin slowed a little to catch his breath.
"Hey, you. Why have you been following me?" Jongin reached out and grabbed the guy's arm to stop him from running away. Instantly, memories flooded Jongin’s brain. It was like a piece of himself that he had never known was missing was returned to him, making him (almost) whole again.
He gasped, and backed up. Jongin let go of the arm he was holding as if he'd been burned.
"Sehun," Jongin spat with the malice only a human could feel. Everything about his life made sense now. His devotion to God... His voice... His (lost) innocence... The way things always turned out so horribly for him.
An angel. Sent to live as a human. That's what he was.
"Jongin, you have to listen--," "NO!," he backed up even further, tears in his eyes. "No, I don't. I don't understand why you're here. All I did was question Him, Sehun. Why is that such a grievous offense that I was born to an abusive mother? That I was mistreated and had my innocence taken away by the only person who I trusted and loved? Who, as it turns out, didn't even care about me?" Sehun looked like he was going to be sick.
"That was the point, Jongin," Sehun ran his hand through his hair. "Your human life is a punishment. Punishment isn't supposed to be pleasant, after all. We're /angels/. We're not meant to question God, or his authority. Because if our faith is shaken, what's to say the humans' faith in Him wouldn't begin to shake as well? That was why He was so harsh, Jongin."
Sehun reached out a hand. "But enough of that talk. God is ready for you to come back. He's ready to forgive you." Jongin stumbled backwards, shaking his head.
"No. I'm.. I'm not going back," he felt guilty when he saw the look of disappointment in Sehun's eyes. "There's a lot to be desired about human life, Sehun, especially mine. But at least... At least humans have choices. And as a matter of fact, I think they have earned the right to their choices. They should question whether or not He really cares.”
Thunder boomed angrily in the background. “Because these humans... They suffer, Sehun. People all around this earth suffer so much pain. Worse than you could ever imagine. And God... what does He do? Nothing. He does nothing for the people He claims to love." Sehun was shaking his head, muttering under his breath. Jongin scoffed."But I wouldn't expect you to understand that." He turned around, clearly stating that he was finished with the conversation. "Goodbye, Sehun."
He didn't turn around until the tell-tale flash of light and heat was gone. When he looked back, there was no sign anywhere that Sehun had even stood there. He looked up at the sky, filled with storm clouds. Just as he headed back towards the cafe to finish his coffee, it started raining.
People sometimes say that raindrops are actually God's tears. Jongin laughed to himself softly at the thought. They didn't realize how right they were.
Pairing: LuKai
Genre: Angst
Word-count: 4274
Rating: R
Summary: "When Jongin meets LuHan, he makes the worst mistake of his life."
WARNING: Sexual exploitation of a minor, child abuse
The first memory Jongin has is a flash of bright light, and a warm loving voice saying "Everything will be alright, my son".
He figures that the memory is from the accident when he was 5. The car crash that killed his father. The crash that changed his mother forever.
=-=
"Get up, you lazy piece of shit," his mother smacked his forehead harshly with a wooden spoon. "You're late for school." Jongin's eyes shot open, and he sat up quickly. His mother shuffled out of the room, and he dressed hurriedly. He almost cried when he realized that his tardiness was most definitely going to cost him this time.
By the time he reached school, it was already almost lunch time. He tried to slip into his classroom unnoticed, but of course... His teacher would notice him.
"Ahh, Mr. Kim Jongin. Finally decide to join us, did you?" Jongin froze, his cheeks burning. He stuttered out a reply, and sat in his seat listening to the snickers of his classmates. "Well, seeing as this is your 3rd time this month being late, you have 3 days of detention after school." Jongin groaned.
No one came to sit by him. When projects were announced, no one partnered up with him. The teacher seemed not to notice if he ever got tripped, but if he ever did something wrong (which was all too often)... God help him.
No one liked Jongin. That much had been crystal clear from day one, and that was true for every single school he'd ever been to. No one liked him. He'd never had a single friend, ever. At his current school, he'd broken down one day, and asked one of his kinder classmates why everybody hated him. She'd shifted uncomfortably, looking around to see if anyone else was present.
"You're just too weird. It's like... You give off this vibe that we're not good enough for you or something," her eyes widened when she saw a couple of her friends walking down the hall and she shoved him away, much to the amusement of said friends.
Jongin didn't understand what she meant by him "giving off a vibe". It couldn't be that bad, could it?
=-=
The only solace Jongin found was in the halls of a church. Despite everything he endured in his life, Jongin felt a deep connection with God. He often had whole conversations with God, and he'd be at peace by the time he was finished talking.
Jongin didn't understand why he felt the way he did. Something in him, some human instinct, told him he should actually be very, very angry with God for the life he had now. But there was nothing where he should have felt anger. It was like the church clouded his emotions, allowing him only peace.
"God, I don't understand sometimes..," Jongin sighed. "Why has my life turned out this way? Have I done something wrong? Whatever it is, I'm sorry." Images of all the things wrong in his life flashed before his eyes. "Whatever I did to deserve this life.. Please know.. I'm paying for it with every breath leaving my body."
He got up and nodded at Father Siwon in greeting. The look on his face caused Father Siwon to furrow his eyebrows in silent question. He shook his head, and mouthed "nothing".
That was the first time Jongin ever walked out of church not feeling serene and at peace.
=-=
Jongin came home and as soon as he stepped in the door, the scent of soju practically smacked him in the face. He closed his eyes, mentally preparing himself.
It was one thing to live with an alcoholic (which Jongin thought he could've handled, actually). It was something else entirely to live with an alcoholic who hated your very existence.
He walked into the living room, tensing his muscles. His mother was sitting there alone, for once. There were at least a dozen empty soju bottles on the coffee table. She turned and looked at him with bloodshot eyes.
"Ah~," she slurred. "So the little brat's back, eh? Welcome home, honey," she mocked, and Jongin flinched when she set another bottle down. "Come'ere. Pick these up." She burped and sat back.
Jongin walked over uneasily. He grabbed several bottles quickly and panicked when he heard his mother mumbling angrily behind him. The next thing he knew, she had smashed a bottle over his scalp. He crumpled to the floor, the bottles in his arms shattering below him. All he heard was a loud ringing in his ears, even though he could see his mother screaming at him (probably about the broken bottles). His vision darkened and he slumped on the broken bottle pieces, unconscious.
When he woke up, his mother was nowhere in sight. He glanced over to the shoe rack by the door and saw her going-out heels were missing. Great... Another night of being woken up, jabbed in the chest with her long fingernails, hearing her scream about how the dishes weren't clean enough. He sighed, and began picking all the shards of glass out of his skin.
=-=
The next evening, Jongin came home early and when he stepped inside, he knew immediately that his mother was already on the warpath. She throwing things all around the living room. Pictures, to be exact. Almost as soon as he stepped in view of the living room, a picture frame came flying at his face. With his luck, it caught him right on the bridge of his nose, and he could immediately feel the blood gushing. He whimpered with pain.
"You little pussy," she stumbled towards him. "You're just like your father." Jongin jumped when she put her hands on his shoulders. His heart was beating wildly, like a bird trying to escape its cage. He closed his eyes, expecting to get hit. Instead, she only moved closer to him. "It's your fault he died," she hissed, and Jongin could hear the tears in her voice. "It’s your fault! Yours!"
The guilt settled at the bottom of his stomach, weighing him down like an anchor despite the small voice in his head saying miserably 'No! I didn't do anything wrong!'. He struggled to breathe around the sudden lump in his throat. He slumped to the ground, taking his mother with him. She was crying, a slobbering drunk mess. After she calmed down a little, Jongin helped her down the hallway to her bedroom, where he laid her down and saw her to sleep.
It was only as he passed the calendar in the hallway that he realized what the date was. December 5th. It had been 11 years since his father died in the accident. The accident that was, according to his mother, somehow his fault.
=-=
The only talent Jongin had in the world was singing. He sang and sang by himself in church, feeling that somehow it was the right thing to do.
"Oh Jongin, you've got the voice of an angel!" He'd heard the sisters say that particular phrase so often he was beyond sick of hearing it. He'd never much liked it to begin with, but having it shoved in his face day after day... Well, it had gotten old.
Father Siwon had begged him to be in the choir, but Jongin refused. Singing was his gift, yes, but that didn't mean he wanted to share it with the rest of the churchgoers. Some sad part of him was pleased with that logic, that kind of self-imposed cageyness.
It was through his singing that Jongin met Luhan. And when he glanced over warm eyes and kind hands he didn't know it yet, but that meeting would turn out to be the worst mistake of his life.
=-=
Jongin was singing his heart out when he heard applause in the aisle. He turned around quickly, unaware that he'd had an audience. He sucked in a breath at the man standing there.
The stranger looked sharp, wearing his designer dress suit and gelled hair. His expression, Jongin assumed, was supposed to inspire trust and friendliness. But Jongin had learned every single day that there was no such thing as trust and friendship. He automatically assumed a hunched posture, and put his hands in his pockets with projected reticence. The guy stepped forward.
"I'm Luhan. What's your name?"
Jongin shrugged. "It doesn't matter. I'm not interested in whatever you're selling."
Luhan laughed, like he thought Jongin was joking. "Are you sure? I could make you famous."
Jongin edged a little closer. "How?" He wondered.
Luhan looked at him with incredulity. "With a face and voice like yours? Come on, you were born to be famous." Jongin began weighing his options right away. He still didn't trust Luhan, but... his whole life, no one had ever wanted to be anywhere near him. Now.. he had a chance at having thousands of people knowing who he was and loving him, even if it was from a distance. He bit his lip.
"My name's Jongin," he said at last, and LuHan broke out into a smile.
"Jongin, we are going to do beautiful things together."
=-=
Somehow, word got out at his school that he'd been given the chance to become an idol. The teasing and bullying got even worse. Instead of having the bruises and cuts from just his mother, Jongin had them everywhere from his classmates. From the daily beatings he received outside the school gates. From the people who still managed to trip him in class.
Through it all, he endured. During the beatings, he thought of his future fans, and their love of him. He thought of LuHan, who actually seemed nice. Who actually wanted to be around him.
He picked himself back up after a particularly rough beating and headed to the company building where LuHan was helping him become an idol. Apparently, there was all kinds of stuff he needed to know first (and despite LuHan telling him he had a gorgeous face, the company paid for him to have a nose job, have his eyes widened, and all kinds of other surgeries to correct the imperfections Jongin never knew he had).
"Jongin.. I don't know where you keep getting these," LuHan sighed and looked up from his position tending to the bruises on Jongin's torso. "But I really wish you'd tell me. We could put you up in a company dorm, or even move you to a different school if you'd like." Jongin's eyes widened.
He'd never thought about moving out of his mother's house before. He never imagined being able to escape that hellish home. He gripped the edge of the bench he was sitting on tightly, and looked at LuHan.
"That'd be okay?" he asked in a small voice. LuHan chuckled.
"Of course it'd be okay. The only snag might be getting your mom's permission," Jongin's heart sank. He hung his head.
"Nevermind, then." When LuHan forced him to look up, he blushed at the intensity of the man’s gaze.
"Does she hurt you, Jongin? Is that where these bruises come from?" Jongin's heart started beating overtime. He blinked and despaired, knowing he was a horrible liar. He shook his head quickly.
"N-no. No way. She does the best she can," he reasoned. LuHan pulled him close and cradled him tenderly.
"Oh Jongin...," the pity and disappointment in LuHan's voice made Jongin feel like sobbing. He stood up suddenly, struggling out of the contact.
"I think I'm gonna leave now," he ignored LuHan's pleas, and practically sprinted to the bus stop.
He didn't stop crying until he reached the church building he felt so comfortable in.
=-=
Jongin came home to the most unbelievably cruel sight in the world.
His belongings were already packed in boxes, waiting for him at the door. His mother stood at the edge of the living room, smoking a cigarette. She gazed at him silently, her eyes full of malicious glee. He looked at her desperately.
"Your 'friend' LuHan called while you were gone. We had a nice little chat about you, and.. Well. He’ll be here to pick you up shortly," she let out a low chuckle. "Good riddance."
Jongin had learned at an early age to shut his emotions off when he was around his mother, but.. It wasn't working this time. It hurt to know she cared so little that she could give him up so freely.
"M-mom..," he choked out. "I-..I.." She raised a bottle of soju to her lips and he flinched.
"Don't you dare say those words," his mother's voice was trembling. Definitely a sign he'd almost gone too far. "And never again refer to me as 'Mom' or any form of that word. You're dead to me, you understand?" Jongin sank to his knees. His mind blanked. The only thing that registered was the pain in his chest. Like someone was ripping him apart from the inside out.
The next thing he was aware of was LuHan helping him into the passenger seat of his car. He broke down sobbing, and LuHan reached across the seat to pat his thigh comfortingly.
"Everything will be fine, Jongin. You'll see," Jongin didn't believe that for one second. And when LuHan's hand trailed further and further up his thigh, he didn't have the energy to fight back. He simply closed his eyes and let it happen.
=-=
LuHan acted like nothing had happened. He still acted like he cared about Jongin.
It was confusing. Jongin didn't know how to feel about it. All he knew was that the thing that had happened in the car... It was very, very bad. He just knew that God would be displeased with it. A part of him wondered why. Why he even cared that God would be disappointed. God had given him a horrible life so far. Why should he be thankful for that?
"Jonginnie. Could you come here for a second?" Jongin headed into the living room, where LuHan was putting up a couple of pictures on the mantlepiece. He frowned when he realized that his favorite picture of his mom and dad wasn't there. "Why are all your pictures of Jesus?" there was a joking tone in LuHan's voice, but it made Jongin uncomfortable. It was the kind of tone that his bullies at school used. He blushed, and shuffled his feet.
"They're not all of Jesus," he mumbled. "I used to have one of my mom and dad, before I was born..," he trailed off, the events of December 5th replaying in his mind. LuHan looked at him apologetically.
"I'm sorry, Jongin.. I didn't know it was a sensitive topic," LuHan came closer to him, and hugged him tightly. "Forgive me?" Jongin nodded against LuHan's chest.
"Of course," he smiled up at LuHan shyly. After a few seconds of looking directly in LuHan's eyes, he shifted his gaze downwards. He could only hold someone's gaze for so long before he started to feel nervous and upset.
LuHan tilted his face back up and smiled softly. "It's okay, Jongin. Everything will be fine." Jongin's smile disappeared. That was exactly what LuHan had said, right before... Jongin's stomach dropped. He saw LuHan bending down, and then their lips were touching. He felt his heart fluttering rapidly. He.. he realized he liked kissing LuHan.
Jongin opened his eyes when the pressure on his lips disappeared. LuHan was looking down at him as if he was a piece of meat.
"You like me, don't you Jongin?" rapidly, Jongin nodded his head. What a silly question to ask. LuHan was probably the only person in the world who cared about him. Of course he'd like LuHan. "Then...," LuHan unzipped his pants and gently pushed Jongin to his knees. "Please..? Will you help a friend in need?"
Jongin hesitantly opened his mouth and took LuHan's erect member in his mouth. It tasted like eternal damnation.
=-=
When he wasn't in his idol training classes or in school, Jongin could usually be found wandering. He didn't like being in his dorm room much, since...
LuHan insisted on acting like nothing was different between them, but Jongin knew better. He might have been innocent (once upon a time, at least), but he wasn't stupid.
LuHan tried to pretend that he loved Jongin, and for the most part Jongin let him live in that fantasy. Maybe he should've told LuHan he knew the truth, but.. really, he wanted to preserve whatever relationship they had as much as LuHan did. LuHan meant something to him, after all.
There were times when Jongin was walking down the street that he could've swore he saw a familiar face. A familiar face that he didn't know, strangely.
The closer it got to his debut date, the more frequently he saw the stranger. He couldn't for the life of him remember how or why that face seemed so familiar, but... the more he saw of the stranger, the more certain he became that something was wrong. He got such an awful feeling about himself when the stranger was anywhere near him. It was like a piece of himself had gone missing. It didn't make any sense.
After seven months of being followed (and he knew without a doubt that he was being followed), Jongin decided that the next chance he got, he was going to confront the stranger/stalker about it. Whether he liked the answer or not.
=-=
One week later, Jongin got the news that the higher-ups were preparing events for his debut. It had barely been a year since he met LuHan in his favorite church... It felt extremely surreal to know that in one more month, he was going to be on a stage, singing and dancing his heart out. One more month, and he was going to be in front of thousands of screaming fans who loved him.
...Or not. LuHan came up to him beaming, and hugged him tightly. The hug felt differently than it used to, though. Jongin noticed that it wasn't quite as sincere.
"Jongin... Umm. The higher-ups would prefer that you not use your real name. Jongin is just.. blah. Boring," LuHan's smile seemed a little more forced when he noticed Jongin wince at 'boring'. "So.. they came up with a new name for you. Your stage name is.. Kai."
Kai. Kai. ... It felt strange to be called by anything other than his given name. Unnatural, even. Jongin looked at LuHan's forced smile, and the strength just drained out of him. He returned the smile, though it was somewhat lacking if LuHan's sudden frown was anything to go by.
"I like it," the lie didn't even sound convincing to himself. "So... I'm Kai." He started walking towards the exit, his shoulders slumped. "Fucking great."
=-=
Jongin had been told to enjoy the privilege of not having his every move scrutinised while it lasted, and so he took to roaming the streets. He saw his familiar-yet-not stalker often, but every time he tried to get close, the stranger magically slipped away into the crowd.
Honestly, it was getting beyond frustrating. Just once.. He'd like to get a straight answer. LuHan had been avoiding him for a couple of days, and Jongin didn't even want to think about why. There could be nothing good behind the reason, for sure.
Once, he was sitting in a cafe not far from the entertainment building where he was being trained, and he heard a familiar chuckle. He turned slightly to look behind him. Immediately, he wished he hadn't. LuHan was sitting with some extremely pretty girl (probably about his age, from the looks of it), drinking coffee and charming her the way he had Jongin.
Jongin felt a lump in his throat and a tell-tale sting in his eyes. He knew that being with LuHan that way was unhealthy and wrong, but... It didn't matter. It still hurt to see him with a girl. LuHan had made Jongin feel special, and now. Now, Jongin questioned his self-worth. Jongin questioned if LuHan had ever really cared at all.
=-=
It was the night of his premiere. His showcase. He ran through his lines in his head (because they weren't even going to let him speak for himself), and rolled his shoulders. He could already hear people screaming for him, but it didn't feel as good as he'd hoped it would. In fact, he felt downright awful, since it wasn't really his name they were screaming.
LuHan was standing next to him, giving him an apologetic look.
"Kai, listen--," "It's Jongin," he interrupted harshly. LuHan looked a little scandalised but cleared his throat. "Right. Jongin.. there's something I have to tell you. I just.. You know I care, right?" LuHan pleaded, and Jongin shut his emotions down. His heart was breaking, he knew, but he felt no pain.
"I get it," his voice sounded cold. Emotionless. "You don't have to say anything, LuHan. I already know." LuHan smiled insincerely. Jongin recoiled when he leaned in for a hug, noticing that LuHan's eyes were full of relief. LuHan frowned, and walked off.
"And now, ladies and gents, introducing our newest company addition... Kai!" The crowd went nuts, and Kai walked out on stage. Kai, not Jongin. Because that's who everyone had paid to see. Jongin was just a broken mess of a little boy.
=-=
It was almost a month after his showcase that he finally had his chance with the stalker/stranger.
Jongin had quickly grown used to wearing sunglasses and hats and scarves (thankfully, it was still cold enough to use them) as his disguise. And so.. The mysterious stranger didn't recognize him.
On a particularly cold, cloudy afternoon, Jongin was at his usual cafe when he looked outside and saw the guy who haunted his dreams. Coffee instantly forgotten about, he sprinted out of the cafe and down the street. The stranger was easy enough to catch up to, and Jongin slowed a little to catch his breath.
"Hey, you. Why have you been following me?" Jongin reached out and grabbed the guy's arm to stop him from running away. Instantly, memories flooded Jongin’s brain. It was like a piece of himself that he had never known was missing was returned to him, making him (almost) whole again.
He gasped, and backed up. Jongin let go of the arm he was holding as if he'd been burned.
"Sehun," Jongin spat with the malice only a human could feel. Everything about his life made sense now. His devotion to God... His voice... His (lost) innocence... The way things always turned out so horribly for him.
An angel. Sent to live as a human. That's what he was.
"Jongin, you have to listen--," "NO!," he backed up even further, tears in his eyes. "No, I don't. I don't understand why you're here. All I did was question Him, Sehun. Why is that such a grievous offense that I was born to an abusive mother? That I was mistreated and had my innocence taken away by the only person who I trusted and loved? Who, as it turns out, didn't even care about me?" Sehun looked like he was going to be sick.
"That was the point, Jongin," Sehun ran his hand through his hair. "Your human life is a punishment. Punishment isn't supposed to be pleasant, after all. We're /angels/. We're not meant to question God, or his authority. Because if our faith is shaken, what's to say the humans' faith in Him wouldn't begin to shake as well? That was why He was so harsh, Jongin."
Sehun reached out a hand. "But enough of that talk. God is ready for you to come back. He's ready to forgive you." Jongin stumbled backwards, shaking his head.
"No. I'm.. I'm not going back," he felt guilty when he saw the look of disappointment in Sehun's eyes. "There's a lot to be desired about human life, Sehun, especially mine. But at least... At least humans have choices. And as a matter of fact, I think they have earned the right to their choices. They should question whether or not He really cares.”
Thunder boomed angrily in the background. “Because these humans... They suffer, Sehun. People all around this earth suffer so much pain. Worse than you could ever imagine. And God... what does He do? Nothing. He does nothing for the people He claims to love." Sehun was shaking his head, muttering under his breath. Jongin scoffed."But I wouldn't expect you to understand that." He turned around, clearly stating that he was finished with the conversation. "Goodbye, Sehun."
He didn't turn around until the tell-tale flash of light and heat was gone. When he looked back, there was no sign anywhere that Sehun had even stood there. He looked up at the sky, filled with storm clouds. Just as he headed back towards the cafe to finish his coffee, it started raining.
People sometimes say that raindrops are actually God's tears. Jongin laughed to himself softly at the thought. They didn't realize how right they were.