PV Ch.10 Part 1

#10. Chaos

“Leader, but this one is too unruly…”

Choi Jinhwan, his voice laced with defiance as he challenged Jeong Hotae, was suddenly flung against the wall with a sickening thud.

“Ugh…”

The shadow at his feet, acting as if it had a life of its own, rose and coiled around Choi Jinhwan’s neck, squeezing mercilessly. 

He struggled, flailing his arms, trying to pry the shadow’s grip loose, but it was no use. His amber eyes rolled back, revealing the whites, and only then did the shadow retreat, dissolving back into a harmless puddle at his feet.

Bomin barely registered the strange spectacle. His gaze was fixed on Jeong Hotae, his eyes wide with shock and disbelief. 

“You…”

He tried to speak, but his throat constricted, words refusing to form. He stood there, frozen, his hand still clutching the wall for support. 

Tears welled up, spilling down his cheeks unchecked. He didn’t even dare to blink, afraid that Jeong Hotae would vanish if he looked away for even a moment. 

“You haven’t changed a bit, have you? Still so reckless, even in a dangerous situation.”

Jeong Hotae’s lips curved into a gentle smile, his words a stark contrast to the violence he’d just displayed. 

“It’s been a while, Lee Bomin. I’ve missed you.”

“This… This can’t be happening…”

Bomin’s legs buckled, and he sank to the floor. This was a novel, a story. He’d been transported into a fictional world, and now… Jeong Hotae? It was impossible. 

“You look tired.”

Jeong Hotae knelt down before him, his large hand cupping Bomin’s tear-stained cheek. He gently wiped away a stray tear with his thumb, his touch filled with affection. 

Bomin flinched, pulling away. 

“…Don’t touch me.”

He was still haunted by the memory of Jeong Hotae’s rejection, the casual cruelty with which he’d discarded Bomin like a worn-out toy. It had left a gaping hole in his heart, a wound that refused to heal. 

Sometimes, the emptiness threatened to consume him. He’d learned to cope, to distract himself, filling the void with fleeting moments of pleasure, losing himself in the mindless oblivion of s*x. 

“Are you still angry with me?”

“How… How can you even ask me that?!”

He wanted to be cold, indifferent, but he couldn’t. His heart was racing, his vision blurring, his emotions a tangled mess. 

“I’m happy to see you. But… this isn’t where we’re supposed to be.” 

He wanted to ask what was going on, how Jeong Hotae had ended up here, of all places, but the words wouldn’t come. All he wanted was to escape, to get away from Jeong Hotae’s presence, to hide from the storm of memories his appearance had unleashed.

This was the face he’d dreamt of, the one he’d yearned for, but seeing it now, in the flesh… It brought back everything, all the suppressed emotions, the bittersweet memories of their time together. He wasn’t in that sterile hallway anymore, he was back in Jeong Hotae’s apartment, sprawled on his bed, a willing plaything in Jeong Hotae’s hands.

“N-No… Please…” 

His breathing quickened, his chest tightening. He clutched at his throat, his hand trembling.

“Damn it.”

Jeong Hotae cursed softly, pulling out a handkerchief and pressing it against Bomin’s face. Bomin’s eyes fluttered closed, his tear-stained lashes brushing against the soft fabric. 

Jeong Hotae scooped him up, cradling him in his arms. 

“Nnng…”

“Choi Jinhwan, you’re confined to disciplinary quarters. I trust you understand the consequences of disobeying a direct order.” 

His voice was cold, devoid of any of the warmth he’d shown Bomin moments ago. 

Choi Jinhwan, his hand pressed against his bruised neck, nodded silently. He’d known the risks. 

Jeong Hotae carried Bomin back to his cell, his gaze lingering on Bomin’s pale face, his eyes flickering a strange shade of emerald green before returning to their usual steely gray. 

* * *

“Bomin-ssi, where are you?”

Bomin burrowed deeper into the sheets, ignoring the distant voice. He inhaled deeply, trying to catch a whiff of that familiar scent, a mix of bitterness and comfort, but it was faint, barely discernible.

“…There you are.”

Kim Minhyun let out a sigh of relief as he opened the bedroom door. He’d searched the entire apartment, and this was the last room. 

The bedroom was dark, only dimly lit by the light spilling in from the hallway. He walked towards the bed, his footsteps silent on the plush carpet. 

Bomin looked incredibly small, lost in the vast expanse of the bed. His wrists, peeking out from beneath the covers, were bone-thin, a testament to his prolonged neglect of his own well-being.

“I’ve been trying to reach you, but your phone’s been off. I apologize for intruding, but I was getting worried.”

Kim Minhyun sat down on the edge of the bed, his gaze lingering on Bomin’s face. His lips were chapped, his cheeks hollow, his condition even worse than he’d imagined. 

“When was the last time you ate?” 

He struggled to keep the concern out of his voice. Bomin didn’t even open his eyes, but Kim Minhyun knew he was awake. 

He could see the tremor in Bomin’s lashes every time he spoke. He’d seen Bomin sleep soundly before, his lips parted slightly, a peaceful expression on his face. Not like this, not with his face drawn and pale, his expression guarded.

“…I’ll make you something to eat.”

He couldn’t leave Bomin like this. If he did, he might find himself cleaning up a corpse in a few days. 

Once he was alone, Bomin opened his eyes, a flicker of movement in the dimly lit room. He stumbled out of bed, heading towards the walk-in closet connected to the bedroom. The scent of Kim Minhyun’s cologne was overpowering, suffocating him, and he needed to get away from it. 

The floor of the closet was littered with clothes, pulled from the shelves and discarded in a haphazard pile. He sank to his knees, burying his face in the clothes.

He inhaled deeply, the familiar scent a balm to his aching heart. His pulse quickened, a drumbeat against his ribs. 

“…Where did you go?” 

Jeong Hotae had vanished, disappeared without a trace. His phone was disconnected, his belongings still in the apartment, but he was gone.

For months, Jeong Hotae had been Bomin’s whole world. He’d met a few of Jeong Hotae’s occasional partners, but he’d never bothered to learn their names, let alone their contact information. 

The only person he knew, the only one he could turn to, was Kim Minhyun. But Kim Minhyun had no answers either.

He’d driven himself to the brink of madness, searching for Jeong Hotae. He’d visited every place they’d been together, every restaurant, every bar, every dark corner they’d shared.

But it was like Jeong Hotae had ceased to exist. 

It was a harsh lesson in how little he actually knew about Jeong Hotae. He’d never cared about his family, his friends, his past. As long as Jeong Hotae was there, as long as he was by Bomin’s side, he’d been content to live in blissful ignorance. 

“Why… Why did you leave me?” 

He would have followed Jeong Hotae anywhere, even to hell itself. But those nights they’d spent together, the intimacy they’d shared… it had broken him. 

He wondered if it would have been less painful if they’d remained friends, if they’d never crossed that line. But he knew, deep down, that he would have made the same choices, even knowing the pain it would bring.

He didn’t know how to fill the void Jeong Hotae had left behind. He’d become a prisoner of his own memories, replaying every shared moment, every touch, every whispered word. He’d driven himself to exhaustion, searching for a ghost, refusing to sleep, to eat, to do anything but chase the phantom of Jeong Hotae’s presence.

“Bomin-ssi.” 

Kim Minhyun, unable to find anything but rice and water in the apartment, had settled on making some plain porridge. He’d been terrified when he’d found the bed empty, his heart sinking with each passing moment. It wasn’t until he’d found Bomin huddled in the closet that he’d been able to breathe again. 

He called out to Bomin, his voice gentle, but Bomin remained motionless, his face buried in the clothes. 

Kim Minhyun knelt down before him, his hand reaching out, hesitant to touch Bomin’s thin shoulder. He spoke, his voice harsh, desperate to shake Bomin out of his despair.

“Are you trying to kill yourself? He’s not coming back, Bomin. Not if you…” 

He stopped abruptly, his words cut off by a pair of lips pressing against his own. Bomin’s face was close, too close, his eyes still closed. Kim Minhyun felt a blush creeping up his neck. 

“You… You said you wanted to sleep with me, didn’t you?” 

Bomin’s eyes fluttered open, his gaze unfocused, clouded with pain. But beneath the surface, Kim Minhyun could sense a storm brewing, a torrent of emotions threatening to break free. 

“Let’s… Let’s have s*x.”

* * *