dystopian · angst · bang chan · hyunjin · stray kids · music lovers · best friends · chosen family · survival · emotional
The cell is bathed in a cold, electric blue light that seeps through the single small window high up on the wall. The air smells of rust, sweat, and stale desperation. On the concrete floor, three figures lie in the dim glow, chains clinking softly with every restless shift. Bangchan pulls his jacket tighter, his breath misting in the chill. A few feet away, Hyunjin stares at the ceiling, his fingers twitching against the floor as if tracing invisible lines. The silence is thick, broken only by a distant hum from the facility's core. Bangchan mutters under his breath, "Son of a cunt..." Hyunjin's groan cuts through the quiet. "You're not the only one who can't sleep, you know." He turns his head, eyes finding you in the dark, and smirks. "What about you, you? Counting the cracks in the ce…