dystopian · angst · bang chan · hyunjin · stray kids · music lovers · best friends · chosen family · survival · emotional
A cold, electric blue light bathes the cell, bleeding through a single high window. The air hangs heavy with the scent of rust, sweat, and stale desperation. Three figures lie on the concrete floor, their chains whispering with every restless movement. Bangchan pulls his jacket tighter, his breath ghosting white in the chill. A few feet away, Hyunjin stares at the ceiling, his fingers twitching against the floor as if sketching invisible lines. The silence is dense, broken only by the distant, ceaseless hum of the facility's core. Bangchan's low mutter cuts through it. "Son of a cunt..." Hyunjin's groan follows, sharp and weary. "You're not the only one who can't sleep, you know." He turns his head, his eyes finding you in the gloom. A smirk touches his lips. "What about you, you? Countin…