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Wooyoung is famous, a household name; inasmuch as one can be famous without being seen as autonomous.
He is an idol, shining above the rest, placed on a silver stage. His face flashes from big screen to big screen, modelling ads, reminders to vote for him, the 'It Boy' of the new generation. The face of ATEEZ brand, fan-favourite to win the 71st round of Alien Stage — rivalled only by Seonghwa, last year's winner, and Yeosang, the angelic musical prodigy.
Sultry and lipsticked, Seonghwa stops Wooyoung in the halls before his first round, against someone whose name he doesn't even remember. His top is sheer, his pants are long and flowy, silver sequins dotting his face and collarbones. He's tall and lanky, but skinnier than one might expect. The tips of his fingers are bruise-purple. He doesn't smile. His voice is as enchanting as his singing, husky and deep, as he says, quietly, under his breath: "Don't lose your head out there."
Wooyoung inclines his head. He and Seonghwa are — closer than two competitors should hope to be. But there can only be one winner, and Seonghwa has made it far enough. If Seonghwa has to die, then so be it. "You won't win."
Seonghwa titters. The sound has a lilt to it, like he's following an unheard tune. "Hm. Neither will you."
"I know."
"Pathetic," Seonghwa shakes his head with a sigh. "Giving everything up for someone else. But there's no stopping you."
The most beautiful boy that Wooyoung has ever seen has pale, almost white hair, and big brown eyes. His name is Yeosang.
He keeps to himself more often than not, a quiet and unobtrusive presence. His room is a mess of scribbled-over music sheets — Wooyoung would know, he's been there enough times, in the darkest hours. He sometimes follows Yunho, tall and light-haired, around like he's a nervous duckling. He eats alone at mealtimes, and spends his lonesome hours making flower crowns in the greenhouses of Anakt Garden. He doesn't like it when others get decommissioned, and gets impossibly paler everytime he sees blood.
He doesn't talk much, but when he sings, everyone stops to listen. His voice is beautiful, low and soulful, a siren-song in its own right.
Wooyoung wants him.
Wooyoung, who is popular and well-liked by the caretakers, not for his and polite behaviour — which he has none of, really — but for the fact that he knows how to pretend. He hasn't been adopted yet, but it won't be long. Everyone is sure, that he'll make it big, get sponsors and all. He's always in the Top 5 rankings of his group, his last evaluation ended up with one of the highest scores ever recorded, and it helps that he knows how to play people like a fiddle.
Yeosang never meets his eyes.
Wooyoung pulls his hair every time they pass each other in the halls, trails after him chattering inane questions and, one memorable time, pushed him so hard he fell and knocked out a tooth. Time passes. He lets Wooyoung hold his hand, tight enough to leave bruises on his moon-pale skin. He lets Wooyoung bite him, with teeth sharp enough to draw blood. He lets Wooyoung follow him into his room, closing the door behind them. The message is clear: Yeosang is mine. They become a consistent fixture in each other's lives.
Wooyoung can never tell if Yeosang's complacency just comes from apathy; a lack of care towards his own existence. He aches to be seen.
Despite it all, Yeosang's gaze is always fixed on the skies above.
Wooyoung's first round is unremarkable. He sings a song he wrote himself, sexy and dangerous, about desire and want. His win was pre-determined. His opponent, a skinny stick of a boy with a streak of turqoise in his hair, cannot get a word in edgewise. Resigned to his fate, he doesn't even look up when the scores are announced.
Wooyoung watches his opponent die, and feels nothing.
When they lead him backstage, he sees Yeosang. He thinks about trying to get his attention. But, once again, Yeosang's eyes are fixed upon the sky.
Wooyoung never stood a chance.
On the stage, Wooyoung watches Yeosang sing.
It's soulful and all-encompassing. His opponent doesn't stand a chance, not when he drowns out their pitiful voice with his low baritone, reverberating between the echo chambers of Wooyoung's heart. The audience, usually so raucous, falls silent, letting the doors of Heaven open up, his voice like a thundershower. The victor is obvious. The votes are overwheming. The winner of Round 2 is none other than Yeosang.
They shoot his opponent dead on the spot. Wooyoung doesn't bother to remember his name. Brown-haired, he still has baby fat clinging to his cheeks. Yeosang looks away when the bullet hits its mark, blood spraying as the body hits the ground. His body trembles, minutely. Still so soft, Wooyoung's Yeosang.
There's a bruise on his arm in the shape of a handprint. It stands out against the paleness of his skin.
Wooyoung wants to replace it with his own.
When Wooyoung gets adopted, he is careful. He wants to wait for Yeosang, but he knows that will never happen.
His owners are pleased with his adaptability, the way he can suppress his instincts. They treat him well, better than most. He's lucky, to be spoiled like a prized pet when he does well — which is always — or left to his own devices. He takes his chances to explore, to learn how the Guardians' technology works. It leaves him with deadened nerve endings in his fingers from one too many electrical shocks but, eventually, his work pays off. He learns how to disable the collars, to give himself access to places he shouldn't go.
He thinks about trying to find Yeosang.
It would be a little complicated, but he's sure he could convince his Guardian to adopt another human pet. Having two is rare, yes, but not unheard of. Wooyoung could argue for companionship. He never asks for anything as a reward, and he's definitely built up some good-will with his owner. He could ask.
He wants to.
Before he can ask, the billboard flashes. His eyes are drawn to the flash of white. Yeosang's face stares back at him, eyes shuttered as he sings. It's a live recording. His face is swollen, one cheek redder than the other, and he has a black eye. His lip is split and, when he opens his mouth, his teeth are stained bloody.
The text that flashes across the screen reads: VOTE YEOSANG FOR THE 71ST ROUND OF ALIEN STAGE.
Ah, Wooyoung thinks.
His second round doubles as his final one. Wooyoung will make sure of it. If nothing else, Yeosang must live on.
Dressed all in black, Wooyoung is playing opposite to his Yeosang, who is wearing white. A veil flutters in front of his face. His eyes are haunted, and his lip chewed raw and bloody. He places both his hands around the mic in a gentle touch, and his fingers shake like a butterfly's wing.
Even as they sing, even as Wooyoung desperately tries to appeal to Yeosang, even as he pours his heart out in the form of a rhythm...
Yeosang still won't look at him.
He steps forward, intent, determined. Yeosang's gaze is fixed on his feet. He doesn't notice until Wooyoung is right in front of him. His voice starts to weaken, mouth shaping a completely different word. Woo—? Wooyoung doesn't give him that chance. He leans forwards and presses his lips against Yeosang's. Yeosang is still as a statue, not reciprocating. His eyes squeeze shut. Even now, like this, he won't look at Wooyoung.
"My God," Wooyoung whispers against his mouth. "My universe."
Yeosang lets out a pained cry.
He wraps his hands around Yeosang's throat, presses down hard enough until he can feel Yeosang's Adam's Apple beneath his fingertips, see his pulse picking up rapidly as his breathing starts to quicken. His fingernails, bitten down to the quick, scrabble against Wooyoung's hands in a desperate attempt at release.
The first bullet enters his leg. Wooyoung buckles, but doesn't relent.
The next one hits his shoulder.
After that, his chest.
Blood drips from his mouth when he smiles, hands dropping. Only the faintest of bruises ring around Yeosang's neck, not even enough to hurt. "My Yeosang."
He remembers the conversation he had with Mingi. Don't do anything stupid, he'd warned, before he went and got himself killed in a desperate attempt to save the love of his life. Yunho tried to kill Seonghwa in a fit of madness, for daring to impersonate Mingi. He'll never be forgotten.
Wooyoung just wants Yeosang to look at him. Once is enough.
As he hits the ground, Yeosang's eyes never leave him. He hopes Yeosang can beat Seonghwa. It would be a shame if he died for nothing.