Chapter Text
Try as he may, Soobin was never quite able to forget the memories of his traumatic past.
His father, for all his warmth and laughter that used to calm Soobin when he was a child, could not control himself when he had a bottle. Violent outbursts, broken glass, and bloodied bruises began to fill his days, and his mother was no better. Her addiction became worse the more his father screamed, until she was nothing but a hollow shell of the woman he had once run to for comfort.
He was abused, neglected, left to fend for himself by the age of nine. He fed himself when there was food, starved when there was none, and had to wear his clothes over and over until they became so gross that he could no longer stand the smell of them.
His classmates did not want to be around him, and those that were forced to took it personally. They targeted him, made it seem like it was his fault he was dirty.
“Don’t your parents love you?”
“Of course they don’t. He’s disgusting.”
There were many kids who used to pick on him, but in his mind it all came back to one person.
Choi Yeonjun.
It was his voice that haunted Soobin at night, high-pitched and nasally, telling him that he was worthless. It was his face with those thin eyes and wide mouth that he saw when he thought about the torture he went through in middle school.
He tried with all his might to forget those memories. He did not like to dwell on the past because it only served as a reminder of how pathetic he used to be.
But he was not that little kid anymore. He wasn’t chubby or awkward. He didn’t stumble over his words. He didn’t smell. His hair was clean. His parents weren’t there to neglect him anymore. And so, despite the anger and hatred that still weighed heavy on his heart, Soobin had to pretend that those years never happened. It was the only way he could move on with his life and stay sane.
And puberty was a special gift to him.
After he was taken from his parents and transferred to another school, he began to grow taller with every year that passed. He towered over the other students and his face slimmed out, his body too. He thanked God for his metabolism every day. By the time he graduated, he was regarded as ‘The Prince’ of his high school.
No one knew about Kim Soobin and no one would ever know. He was different now. Men and women alike both threw themselves at his feet and he accepted their attention as if it were some sort of cure-all for the memories that continued to plague him.
It worked as well as it could have. He managed to completely change his life and his identity, and he was satisfied with the person he had become.
He went to a cosmetology school, working two part-time jobs to pay his way through, and now he finally had his own salon. He was helping people, encouraging others to explore different looks and enhance their appearance, gifting them with the confidence he needed in himself.
Yes, he was quite satisfied.
Everything felt as though it were going perfectly. The salon had become busier, new clients showing up every week to schedule their monthly haircuts. He had become so overwhelmed by the popularity in the first few months that he had to hire extra staff, reaching out to some friends he met in the cosmetology program. With familiar faces around to help him and a bustling business, his life was truly on the upward.
And then one day, the same bell that had been signaling the entrance of each new client for weeks rang through the salon and Soobin stood ready to greet them, only to find his dark past staring him right in the face.
"U-Um, hello. I’d like to get a hair cut..."
Choi Yeonjun had crashed into his life all over again and Soobin felt the hair on the back of his neck stand straight up. He prickled, like prey being hunted, and for the first time in years he felt like that pathetic little kid again as his stomach twisted with fear.
Yeonjun was staring, those familiar and haunting eyes now wide and a little frightened as well, cheeks pink as he caught Soobin watching him back. His gaze darted down to the tiled floor, back to Soobin, and then to the pale green walls of the salon.
What is he doing here? Is he going to pull another one of his stunts and expose me for being a loser in middle school? God, I worked so hard to get away from my past and he just had to show up. He's so fucking annoying-
"Hello? You okay?" Yeonjun interrupted his internal monologue, waving a hand in front of his face. Soobin wanted to snatch his hand out of the air, out of his face, but his hands remained at his sides and all he could muster was a mute nod. Yeonjun pursed his lips, tilted his head, and gave him an odd look.
Soobin couldn’t read what he was thinking.
Why is he looking at me like that? And why is he speaking informally? He must recognize me. I’m just glad Taehyun isn’t here to witness this…
"Okay…" Yeonjun drew out the syllable, looking more than a little uncomfortable. He ran thin fingers through his black hair, dainty silver rings decorating over half of them. Soobin found himself thinking that his hair looked quite overgrown, hanging behind his shoulders as if it hadn’t been cut in months. Maybe even years. The ends were a bit frayed.
He reminded himself that this was his area of expertise. He was a hair dresser and Yeonjun was in need of a haircut. He had to remain professional no matter how sick he felt at the moment. So he took a deep breath and settled his features.
"S-So, um… what kind of look were you going for?" Soobin managed to ask as he stepped over to an empty chair, holding an arm out as signal for Yeonjun to sit down. As the boy drew closer, he felt a rush of satisfaction when he realized that he too was now taller than Choi Yeonjun.
If puberty had a face, he would kiss it.
Yeonjun sat down in the tan chair, his jeans squeaking against the polyester as he met Soobin’s eyes through the mirror.
“I want you to shave it all off.”
Seriously?
"Seriously?"
Yeonjun nodded and lowered his gaze down to vanity. “Seriously,” he confirmed, “I want it to disappear.” His lips pushed out into what could only be described as a pout and Soobin had to hold back from retching when the word ‘cute’ flickered through his thoughts.
No.
Absolutely not.
There is no way Choi Yeonjun is cute.
In fact, he's anything but cute.
Evil. Annoying. Loud. Obnoxious.
The worst person to walk the planet.
Yeah, anything but cute suits him.
And as much as Soobin would have enjoyed shaving Yeonjun’s head, he had a reputation to uphold. He could not let his cruel desires ruin everything he had worked so hard to obtain. So he chose his words carefully when he spoke again.
"Is there a particular reason why you want to get rid of it?"
He kept his tone neutral as he grabbed a black cape from the hook on the wall and wrapped it around Yeonjun’s neck. He secured the button, spun the fabric, and then gathered Yeonjun’s hair into his hands so he could pull it from underneath.
His brain supplied him with a very vivid and intrusive image of his hands wrapped around the boy’s throat and squeezing , but he ignored it in favor of observing the split ends against his pale finger tips.
"W-Well…" Yeonjun was fiddling with his hands in his lap, eyes glued to the vanity. His cheeks were red, the tips of his ears too, but Soobin pointedly ignored both. "I had been growing it out but someone told me it didn't look good. So I want to get rid of it."
Soobin had to physically restrain himself from rolling his eyes. It took a lot of willpower, but only his eyebrow managed to twitch.
I see he's still the same idiotic kid he's always been.
"Really? I think this length suits you," Soobin politely said as he ran his fingers through the long strands. “How about we just do a trim? Get rid of these split ends and,” he paused to think, “maybe a bleach? I think blonde would look quite good on you.”
Soobin forced himself to let out a laugh and patted Yeonjun’s shoulders with his hands, not failing to notice the way they seemed so large in comparison to Yeonjun’s slender frame. And… if he could weasel out a couple more bucks from this guy, why not?
“O-Okay,” Yeonjun squeaked and the noise made Soobin pause. He looked in the mirror and found Yeonjun lowering his head, as if trying to hide the redness of his cheeks behind his messy fringe.
What's with him? Does he really not remember me?
"Whatever you think is best…" Yeonjun agreed, head still bowed.
Great.
Don't look at me.
Don't speak to me.
Just get your hair done and disappear from my life forever.