The World Through A Broken Dream
DISCLAIMER : I DO NOT OWN ANY PART OF SME NOR SUPER JUNIOR NOR THEIR MUSIC. the story is fictional. no copyright infringement intended. The boys own themselves ;]
Title : The world through a broken dream
Type : Sequel to The World through The Broken Heart
Genre: Angst/Romance
Pairing : SiHanChul, Heechul POV
Rating : PG-15 (Hinted Boys love and Suicide)
Summary : A tragic accident that tears apart two lovers.. and he's the cause.
A/N: this story is based on the situation created after Hangeng leaves SM. But the after the SuJu accident where Heechul and Kyuhun oppas got seriously injured T_T
Warnings: character death/suicide
"the deepest people are those who've been hurt the most"
----
He lifted himself from the trailer bed and slowly lowered himself onto the wheelchair. It still hurt to walk, but he wasn't willing to give up. He was wanted on stage. They wanted him. He needed them.
The physical rehabilitation hasn't shown any obvious changes in his condition, but he wasnt willing to give into a weak heart. He needed to be headstrong to pull through. To get back on stage. To sing like he used to, to dance like he used. To live the life he loved.
The door slid open at his tug and he managed to slip out slowly. He hated wheelchairs as much as he hated the pain in his legs. But patience, this was needed for his recovery. He leaned on the support as he raised his arms and turned the wheels as he headed towards the bathroom.
He knew most people here. Heck he was too famous for his own good. Each time he passed he heard comments like " omo, he still looks good even in a hospital gown " or something like. " kyaaaaaa opppaaaaaa " There were once days when he hated this attention, because he wasn't confident, confident with who he was after the accident. He was afraid of being pushed back, talked trash about and discriminated for any changes that the accident had forced on him. But now it was fine. It wasn't simply that he didn't mind anymore, but that he needed these comments to know, that his place in this society remained. He didn't want to lose it.
He wouldn't call himself a loner, but it wasn't of choice that he didn't have any good friends during his childhood. His looks were far too outstanding and he was in return hated for it. The other boys in his class hated him for all the affection he got from the girls, but it wasn't like he asked for it. But over time, the rejection made him believe that he had to make a person out of himself. Because no one else was about to do that for him.
It's human nature to hate something that makes them feel inferior. And he had the looks to make the world look pale in comparison. And as year after year drove by, treachery after betrayal, he chose to define his life with narcissism. People judged him, as humans tend to do, without much thought to how and why, but more interest on who and when. With time, as the trials got worse, he grew accustomed but not immune. He learnt to snicker sarcastic comments at insults.
And Life taught him a beautiful lesson; ignorance is bliss.
He lifted himself up slowly and rested weakly against the bathroom sink as he leaned into the basin, foamy hands soaking under a flow of hot water. His eyes traced the perfect curves on his face as he found refuge in the thought that after rehabilitation and the operation, this all would rest at the very depths of his past like an unforgettable nightmare that brought about great changes to his life. He mused over how much less stubborn he is now compared to the first few days a the hospital. This incident changed him; for the better as every life lesson does- for the worst, he would rather not go there.
He managed to slip through the bathroom door as his tired arms turned the wheels once more. As he made way towards his room, he garnered much attention as is expected of Kim Heechul of Super Junior. He noticed from the corner of his eyes the frantic fans that so desperately wished to get close but couldn't- much due to the security positioned all around the hospital.
The door slid open once more and he managed inside. The room was colorful with new flower bouquets and soft toys arranged all around his bed. He had been mad the first few days, at the load of presents piling in each day, but overtime it changed the scowl into a smile as he found little warmth and encouragement from his concerned fans.
Among the whites, pinks, reds and yellows, there was a man seated at the stool next to the bed. At the sound of the sliding door, the visitor spun around, greeting him.
"ah Siwonnie" he called out to his dongsaeng, as Siwon scrambled out of his seat and trudged over to assist him.
Siwon placed strong hands on the handles at the back of the wheelchair as he guided him to the bed. Once settled in, he decided on conversation.
"how are you Heenim?" his eyes softened- was that pain in his eyes? - as he trapped his right hand in a warm squeeze.
He saw the concern in his dongsaeng's eyes and in an attempt to assure him, returned the squeeze in his hand before remarking confidently with a smirk,
"Kim Heechul is always at the top of the world"
Siwon smiled weakly at the tone in his voice, but didn't let go of his hand. They sat in silence for a moment and he noticed how his usually bubbly dongsaeng had lost much color to his face. His eyes sagged a little hinting to many nights lost to insomnia. The slight yellow appearing in his eyes were carving at the charm the man so proudly possessed. He slowly lifted his free hand to his cheek, pale and scratchy at the touch.
"what happened to you?" he inquired, his heart sinking in guilt as a voice in his mind screamed guilty.
Siwon didn't answer right away. He let them fall into silence once more. He shifted ever so slightly in his bed, as his hand slipped from his dongsaeng's face. Siwon grabbed him in mid action, and pulled his hand to his face.
He perked up, surprised.
He felt guilty at their touch, and miserable at the look of pain in Siwon's usually smiling eyes, so he made no attempt to pull back.
"work.." siwon trailed off, tightening his grip on his hand.
Work.. They both knew otherwise, maybe Siwon more than him. But they didn't intend to create bitter memories and so let is slide.
The door slid open and he yanked his hands away from his dongsaeng. The usual smiling, bubbly nurse slipped in and gasped at the sight of Choi Siwon.
"s-si-siw-" she stuttered at the sight of the tall handsome man as he climbed to his feet. He watched in amusement as siwon played his "the usual gentleman"game and led the nurse to his bed as the lady turned from skin color to beet red.
He laughed a little in his head as he watched the transaction between the two. The nurse noticed his presence there and regained her composition ever so slowly, as she went about fixing and adjusting the IV.
The nurse lingered a while, checking that and adjusting this and then with a shy bow to Siwon and a smile to him slipped out, the door sliding into place behind her.
--------
The room door slowly slid open and footsteps poured into the room.The footsteps grew closer and edged around his hospital bed, as he pretended to sleep. It was possibly past 3 am, he was in no mood for chit chat.
"-ration? what about i-"
Someone gasped. Then a pause, followed by a long sigh.
"-tly? How would he handle th-"
A hand slowly traced his wounded leg, and he twitched subconsciously before playing asleep once more.
The hand retracted and the footsteps distanced from his bedside; a door slid open and the voices faded away, along with the footsteps.
He was half asleep and half awake. But then again what was new. Nights usually dragged on like this, one after another. The hospital bed had little human comfort in it, as he found in his dorm - in his room. In his arms.
He slowly opened his eyes as the footsteps lost its echo.
The night was as silent as it ever got in the busy city of Seoul. Cars ran wild on the streets below his window, and tires constantly protested violently as brakes were slammed on. His eyes lifted to the curtain entangled in the soft breeze flowing through the open hospital window illuminated in the full moon. He usually liked nights like this. They held more good memories to him than most others. The breeze waltzed with the curtain, and the moon illuminated the room as the fabric danced away from the ground.
Kim Heechul.
He did a double take as his eyes ran to a piece of paper lying on the floor. He wasn't sure if he saw it right, and usually he wouldn't have cared. But it had his name, and that bothered him. Subconsciously, he sat up, his eyes searching the tiled floor for the paper.
Kim Heechul.
He reached out to the handstand as he slowly leaned forward further, eyes unwavering, as he lowered himself to the wheelchair. If he was asked why, he would have replied with "gut instincts"; there was no other explanation, he thought as he wheeled over to the paper lying motionless on the ground. He had been a man of his own ways, and this time around too, he followed his own instincts-mindless of the clenching feeling in the depths of his stomach.
Long fingers wrapped themselves slowly across the paper as his eyes slid across each line.
Surgery...... Leg removal........ Inability for constant strong movements.....
His heart froze as his eyes stopped at one word.
Disable.
The paper slipped through his fingers and rustled to the floor, as his stood frozen in his moment, his heart pounding in his head, attempting to make sense of the words that spun around his head.
"Kim Heechul? He only had his looks and inferiority complex, now he cant dance as well? hahaha"
"whoa! he cant dance?! will they finally get rid of him?! "
"Cant dance? He's not needed in Super Junior anymore then!"
His hands flew to his ears in an attempt to stop the voices, those that are flooding his mind and waging wars with him. His eyes forced shut as the voices grew louder and his hands pressed stronger against his ears. He didn't want to hear them. Not again. He didn't want to feel so unnecessary. Unneeded. Unloved.
The voices grew louder and his head started pounding in response to the unfading voices insulting his existence. His heart paced faster as his eyes scanned every nook and corner of the room searching for something, anything, to stop the voices.
The room was slightly illuminated by the little light that streamed in through the open window and he noticed for the first time, how lacking the room was to be his aid. A ghostly silhouette of the hospital bed, the bedside table, and all the presents that overflowed any vacant area visible surrounded him.
Fire extinguisher, teddy bears. roses. soft toys. balloons. his ba-
And then his eyes stopped and focused upon a single shape hidden partially in his bag. The image registered in his mind, yet within himself, the rush for pain relief was battled out with the dawn of the seriousness of the situation. He hesitated a moment as he stood frozen, a few feet away from his object of relief, his eyes tracing each angle and curve of the little plastic bottle. A soft sigh escaped his lips as he closed his eyes and breathe in slowly.
He wheeled over to his bag where the pills were partially hiding in, and reached out, fingers stopping inches away from the bottle. He almost pulled away, and the voices, they flooded back.
"Useless..." "Kick him out...." "....worthless...." "He deserved it..."
Without as much as a second thought, his fingers wrapped around the cap opening the bottle before he downed a handful of the medicine. With trembling hands he capped the bottle and wheeled back to the bed, and with the arm rest as assistance climbed himself onto the soft mattress. When his head hit the pillow, the first traces of an apology formed itself into tears and streamed down the side of his cheek, dampening his black hair.
The medicine didn't kick in soon, and he was left to his thoughts, going back and revisiting to his trainee days with Leetuk, Kangin, Donghae and Siwon. His thoughts then wondered to the times they had fun at reality shows, how they had laughed as one, and cried as one. The tears slithered down as his eyes overflowed with emotion. He apologized to each and every one he loved mentally, before he realized that he's forgetting something.
He sat up on his bed and reached over to the bedside table where a glass of water and a wilting flower in a glass vase were placed. The table contained a single drawer where he usually kept his journal and a pen, where he had managed to word his unbearable trial through its meanest days. He reached over and pulled open the drawer, taking out the usual book and the pen. He tore a single piece of paper from the journal after writing on it, and hid the journal under his pillow before, placing the paper under the vase, and the pen over it.
He took in the room once more before he leaned back and laid down, as his eyes slowly gave into the strong medications that he had overdosed.
I'm Sorry.
-------
okay so i took SO LONG TO UPDATE T_T. mianhe, i was seriously lacking some good inspiration. but yosh. there goes that :]
And yes, The World Through series is overrrrrr Q_Q but i have a new fanfic i'm working on xDD
check back for updates <3
(credits to owners)
(
(credits to owners)
Title : The world through a broken dream
Type : Sequel to The World through The Broken Heart
Genre: Angst/Romance
Pairing : SiHanChul, Heechul POV
Rating : PG-15 (Hinted Boys love and Suicide)
Summary : A tragic accident that tears apart two lovers.. and he's the cause.
A/N: this story is based on the situation created after Hangeng leaves SM. But the after the SuJu accident where Heechul and Kyuhun oppas got seriously injured T_T
Warnings: character death/suicide
"the deepest people are those who've been hurt the most"
----
He lifted himself from the trailer bed and slowly lowered himself onto the wheelchair. It still hurt to walk, but he wasn't willing to give up. He was wanted on stage. They wanted him. He needed them.
The physical rehabilitation hasn't shown any obvious changes in his condition, but he wasnt willing to give into a weak heart. He needed to be headstrong to pull through. To get back on stage. To sing like he used to, to dance like he used. To live the life he loved.
The door slid open at his tug and he managed to slip out slowly. He hated wheelchairs as much as he hated the pain in his legs. But patience, this was needed for his recovery. He leaned on the support as he raised his arms and turned the wheels as he headed towards the bathroom.
He knew most people here. Heck he was too famous for his own good. Each time he passed he heard comments like " omo, he still looks good even in a hospital gown " or something like. " kyaaaaaa opppaaaaaa " There were once days when he hated this attention, because he wasn't confident, confident with who he was after the accident. He was afraid of being pushed back, talked trash about and discriminated for any changes that the accident had forced on him. But now it was fine. It wasn't simply that he didn't mind anymore, but that he needed these comments to know, that his place in this society remained. He didn't want to lose it.
He wouldn't call himself a loner, but it wasn't of choice that he didn't have any good friends during his childhood. His looks were far too outstanding and he was in return hated for it. The other boys in his class hated him for all the affection he got from the girls, but it wasn't like he asked for it. But over time, the rejection made him believe that he had to make a person out of himself. Because no one else was about to do that for him.
It's human nature to hate something that makes them feel inferior. And he had the looks to make the world look pale in comparison. And as year after year drove by, treachery after betrayal, he chose to define his life with narcissism. People judged him, as humans tend to do, without much thought to how and why, but more interest on who and when. With time, as the trials got worse, he grew accustomed but not immune. He learnt to snicker sarcastic comments at insults.
And Life taught him a beautiful lesson; ignorance is bliss.
He lifted himself up slowly and rested weakly against the bathroom sink as he leaned into the basin, foamy hands soaking under a flow of hot water. His eyes traced the perfect curves on his face as he found refuge in the thought that after rehabilitation and the operation, this all would rest at the very depths of his past like an unforgettable nightmare that brought about great changes to his life. He mused over how much less stubborn he is now compared to the first few days a the hospital. This incident changed him; for the better as every life lesson does- for the worst, he would rather not go there.
He managed to slip through the bathroom door as his tired arms turned the wheels once more. As he made way towards his room, he garnered much attention as is expected of Kim Heechul of Super Junior. He noticed from the corner of his eyes the frantic fans that so desperately wished to get close but couldn't- much due to the security positioned all around the hospital.
The door slid open once more and he managed inside. The room was colorful with new flower bouquets and soft toys arranged all around his bed. He had been mad the first few days, at the load of presents piling in each day, but overtime it changed the scowl into a smile as he found little warmth and encouragement from his concerned fans.
Among the whites, pinks, reds and yellows, there was a man seated at the stool next to the bed. At the sound of the sliding door, the visitor spun around, greeting him.
"ah Siwonnie" he called out to his dongsaeng, as Siwon scrambled out of his seat and trudged over to assist him.
Siwon placed strong hands on the handles at the back of the wheelchair as he guided him to the bed. Once settled in, he decided on conversation.
"how are you Heenim?" his eyes softened- was that pain in his eyes? - as he trapped his right hand in a warm squeeze.
He saw the concern in his dongsaeng's eyes and in an attempt to assure him, returned the squeeze in his hand before remarking confidently with a smirk,
"Kim Heechul is always at the top of the world"
Siwon smiled weakly at the tone in his voice, but didn't let go of his hand. They sat in silence for a moment and he noticed how his usually bubbly dongsaeng had lost much color to his face. His eyes sagged a little hinting to many nights lost to insomnia. The slight yellow appearing in his eyes were carving at the charm the man so proudly possessed. He slowly lifted his free hand to his cheek, pale and scratchy at the touch.
"what happened to you?" he inquired, his heart sinking in guilt as a voice in his mind screamed guilty.
Siwon didn't answer right away. He let them fall into silence once more. He shifted ever so slightly in his bed, as his hand slipped from his dongsaeng's face. Siwon grabbed him in mid action, and pulled his hand to his face.
He perked up, surprised.
He felt guilty at their touch, and miserable at the look of pain in Siwon's usually smiling eyes, so he made no attempt to pull back.
"work.." siwon trailed off, tightening his grip on his hand.
Work.. They both knew otherwise, maybe Siwon more than him. But they didn't intend to create bitter memories and so let is slide.
The door slid open and he yanked his hands away from his dongsaeng. The usual smiling, bubbly nurse slipped in and gasped at the sight of Choi Siwon.
"s-si-siw-" she stuttered at the sight of the tall handsome man as he climbed to his feet. He watched in amusement as siwon played his "the usual gentleman"game and led the nurse to his bed as the lady turned from skin color to beet red.
He laughed a little in his head as he watched the transaction between the two. The nurse noticed his presence there and regained her composition ever so slowly, as she went about fixing and adjusting the IV.
The nurse lingered a while, checking that and adjusting this and then with a shy bow to Siwon and a smile to him slipped out, the door sliding into place behind her.
--------
The room door slowly slid open and footsteps poured into the room.The footsteps grew closer and edged around his hospital bed, as he pretended to sleep. It was possibly past 3 am, he was in no mood for chit chat.
"-ration? what about i-"
Someone gasped. Then a pause, followed by a long sigh.
"-tly? How would he handle th-"
A hand slowly traced his wounded leg, and he twitched subconsciously before playing asleep once more.
The hand retracted and the footsteps distanced from his bedside; a door slid open and the voices faded away, along with the footsteps.
He was half asleep and half awake. But then again what was new. Nights usually dragged on like this, one after another. The hospital bed had little human comfort in it, as he found in his dorm - in his room. In his arms.
He slowly opened his eyes as the footsteps lost its echo.
The night was as silent as it ever got in the busy city of Seoul. Cars ran wild on the streets below his window, and tires constantly protested violently as brakes were slammed on. His eyes lifted to the curtain entangled in the soft breeze flowing through the open hospital window illuminated in the full moon. He usually liked nights like this. They held more good memories to him than most others. The breeze waltzed with the curtain, and the moon illuminated the room as the fabric danced away from the ground.
Kim Heechul.
He did a double take as his eyes ran to a piece of paper lying on the floor. He wasn't sure if he saw it right, and usually he wouldn't have cared. But it had his name, and that bothered him. Subconsciously, he sat up, his eyes searching the tiled floor for the paper.
Kim Heechul.
He reached out to the handstand as he slowly leaned forward further, eyes unwavering, as he lowered himself to the wheelchair. If he was asked why, he would have replied with "gut instincts"; there was no other explanation, he thought as he wheeled over to the paper lying motionless on the ground. He had been a man of his own ways, and this time around too, he followed his own instincts-mindless of the clenching feeling in the depths of his stomach.
Long fingers wrapped themselves slowly across the paper as his eyes slid across each line.
Surgery...... Leg removal........ Inability for constant strong movements.....
His heart froze as his eyes stopped at one word.
Disable.
The paper slipped through his fingers and rustled to the floor, as his stood frozen in his moment, his heart pounding in his head, attempting to make sense of the words that spun around his head.
"Kim Heechul? He only had his looks and inferiority complex, now he cant dance as well? hahaha"
"whoa! he cant dance?! will they finally get rid of him?! "
"Cant dance? He's not needed in Super Junior anymore then!"
His hands flew to his ears in an attempt to stop the voices, those that are flooding his mind and waging wars with him. His eyes forced shut as the voices grew louder and his hands pressed stronger against his ears. He didn't want to hear them. Not again. He didn't want to feel so unnecessary. Unneeded. Unloved.
The voices grew louder and his head started pounding in response to the unfading voices insulting his existence. His heart paced faster as his eyes scanned every nook and corner of the room searching for something, anything, to stop the voices.
The room was slightly illuminated by the little light that streamed in through the open window and he noticed for the first time, how lacking the room was to be his aid. A ghostly silhouette of the hospital bed, the bedside table, and all the presents that overflowed any vacant area visible surrounded him.
Fire extinguisher, teddy bears. roses. soft toys. balloons. his ba-
And then his eyes stopped and focused upon a single shape hidden partially in his bag. The image registered in his mind, yet within himself, the rush for pain relief was battled out with the dawn of the seriousness of the situation. He hesitated a moment as he stood frozen, a few feet away from his object of relief, his eyes tracing each angle and curve of the little plastic bottle. A soft sigh escaped his lips as he closed his eyes and breathe in slowly.
He wheeled over to his bag where the pills were partially hiding in, and reached out, fingers stopping inches away from the bottle. He almost pulled away, and the voices, they flooded back.
"Useless..." "Kick him out...." "....worthless...." "He deserved it..."
Without as much as a second thought, his fingers wrapped around the cap opening the bottle before he downed a handful of the medicine. With trembling hands he capped the bottle and wheeled back to the bed, and with the arm rest as assistance climbed himself onto the soft mattress. When his head hit the pillow, the first traces of an apology formed itself into tears and streamed down the side of his cheek, dampening his black hair.
The medicine didn't kick in soon, and he was left to his thoughts, going back and revisiting to his trainee days with Leetuk, Kangin, Donghae and Siwon. His thoughts then wondered to the times they had fun at reality shows, how they had laughed as one, and cried as one. The tears slithered down as his eyes overflowed with emotion. He apologized to each and every one he loved mentally, before he realized that he's forgetting something.
He sat up on his bed and reached over to the bedside table where a glass of water and a wilting flower in a glass vase were placed. The table contained a single drawer where he usually kept his journal and a pen, where he had managed to word his unbearable trial through its meanest days. He reached over and pulled open the drawer, taking out the usual book and the pen. He tore a single piece of paper from the journal after writing on it, and hid the journal under his pillow before, placing the paper under the vase, and the pen over it.
He took in the room once more before he leaned back and laid down, as his eyes slowly gave into the strong medications that he had overdosed.
I'm Sorry.
-------
okay so i took SO LONG TO UPDATE T_T. mianhe, i was seriously lacking some good inspiration. but yosh. there goes that :]
And yes, The World Through series is overrrrrr Q_Q but i have a new fanfic i'm working on xDD
check back for updates <3
(credits to owners)
(
(credits to owners)