Hey if you're still up for the angst how about Yeonjun being forced to break up with reader because the company is making him?
oh boy i hope this doesn’t suck lmfao. this is mostly yeonjun-centric tbh because it’s the best way i could figure out to write this!
yeonjun plays the air drums, complete with sound effects, as he slips his way through his kitchen, his socked feet betraying him more than just once against the cool tile. he’s determined to make his saturday worthwhile, ignoring the amount of happy-faking it’ll take him. his head is halfway to pounding - the aftermath of too many gulps of vodka straight from the bottle the night before - but he pays it no mind, going on with his morning with the will of a particularly headstrong bull.
he pours himself a bowl of cereal and lets it get soggy. there’s nobody to argue with about how to fix oneself a bowl of cereal (milk first, or cereal first?), but yeonjun does it with an invisible guest for old time’s sake. Is it weird to make animated conversation to a wall about the merits of milk before cereal? he hopes not.
it’s weird enough to talk to yourself, the voice in his head reminds him, but it’s even weirder in your case because you’re doing it to overcompensate for missing (name).
shut the fuck up, yeonjun tells himself, losing all will to eat breakfast in an instant. he pushes his full bowl away from him, getting up from his seat at his too-large dining table. he tells himself he’ll put the bowl in the fridge for later, but he knows he’ll end up throwing it all out.
as he walks around his apartment, he quickly realizes that there’s nothing for him to do. tomorrow x together is taking what is, in the public’s eye, a well-deserved 2 month break.
in the privacy of his own home, yeonjun can admit that it’s because he hasn’t been able to set foot inside a recording studio since you’d left.
since he’d made you leave.
the argument runs through his mind on repeat, and he finds his mind settling on reliving it even as he crashes onto his couch, turning his tv on to reruns of some old show he’s not quite familiar with.
“so that’s your reason?” you’d yelled, incredulous. “you’re throwing away two years of - of us because you no longer ‘feel a spark’?”
your eyes had welled with tears, and it was obvious that, despite how angry you’d sounded, you weren’t pissed at all - just immensely hurt. in that moment, yeonjun had almost caved and told you the truth, that his company was forcing him to break up with you. he’d almost rushed towards you, arms wide open to capture you in a comforting embrace.
he wishes he’d done so.
instead, he’d just nodded, wincing in a way he’d hoped would come across as apologetic. you’d said nothing in return, just clenched your jaw and shaken your head slowly, disappointment permeating the air around you.
“fine,” you’d said, gathering all of your belongings. “then i guess this is goodbye, yeonjun. goodbye for good.” before he could find it in him to beg you to stay, you’d left his apartment and his life for good, leaving your ex-boyfriend staring vacantly at the door slamming shut behind you.
yeonjun heaves a sigh, shaking his head vigorously to bring himself back to his present. a tinny laugh track plays from the tv, and yeonjun finds himself wondering what it would be like to be that - a disembodied laugh, suspended in a state of happiness for eternity. he hasn’t felt real happiness in months - two months, a week, and three days exactly - and can’t help but want for it, want for you, more than anything.
he shakes his head once more as if that’ll rid his memories of you. yeonjun’s eyes fall on the open bottle of vodka on his coffee table, surely left by his drunk self the night before, and he can’t help but reach for it, knowing full well that he’s making his life a cycle as his does.
it’s funny, he laments to himself as his throat burns from the alcohol staining his throat. he drinks to forget, but he can’t help but remember you.
