Lucifer | Woosan

1: "Far from Brave" (San)

September 14, 2020. Aurora Christian Academy (A/N: not a real school)

"Anything I do, I know you're gonna watch to rumor up that I'm a fool"
"Greek God"- Conan Gray

Choi San leaned his head on the cold wall of the bathroom stall, twirling a cigarette in his fingers as he watched the thin wasps of smoke escape through the small window above him.

He glanced around the stall, grinning to himself as he shook his head. The cream-colored walls were decorated in Sharpie and watercolor markers. The most random phrases like "Ella was here" "Your dog speaks Chinese" "Park Jimin + the floor= luv" and tons of others were written sloppily all across the wall. Traces of bored teenagers who knew teachers never went into these stalls and there was no way they'd get into trouble even of someone snitched because no one would know who did it anyway.

He directed his attention back to the smoke he was currently exhaling, the musky, homey smell spiriting away his thoughts towards something that had happened only yesterday.

It was at church. The one time he went, just so his parents would get off his ass, his youth group just had to be singing. His mother had noticed how he wasn't getting up on stage with the others and had started pushing him towards the stage. He had politely tried to push her away because fuck, those damned people had started turning their heads towards their direction.

His mother's words had started growing louder and louder as she had begun to speak out loud about how he was letting his group down. More and more eyes had turned around to look at him.

Louder and louder. Tens, dozens, countless pairs of those reproachful, judging eyes boring holes through his shirt. Her cold hand on his shoulder, pushing him off the chair towards the stage; her face contorted in fury and disappointment.

He had made his way up to the stage while everyone was waiting, panic enveloping his whole body and clogging his airways, tears threatening to push themselves to his seemingly cold, brown eyes.

He had stood beside Kim Hongjoong, the new dude from Atlanta. The one motherfucker whose judging gaze was worse than everyone's else.

As the piano had begun playing and his groupmates had started singing, San was trying to prevent the oncoming panic attack as he felt his hands shaking violently. He had gripped his bracelet tightly, the one thing he never went anywhere without, hoping no one would see it as jewelry was frowned upon in church for anyone.

As soon as it had ended, he had casually walked outside, looking completely fine but dying on the inside, brushing away his mother's arm as she had tried to stop him, finally giving up when he had hissed "Don't. Touch. Me."

He had leaned against a tree, choking, gasping for air as tears unwillingly flowed down. San hated crying. It made him feel like such a loser, such a weakling. It just wasn't something a man was supposed to do, he's been told. But he couldn't help it. His throat couldn't contain the panic lodged in it anymore.

His sister Aira had come out with her friend. She had looked at him with a face full of disgust. She hated him. San could never fully grasp why. No matter what he did for her or tried to talk to her like a normal brother, she despised him.

"So disgusting. Just standing there on stage shaking like something's wrong with you. Like a little girl. Stop pretending, it's just singing. Just be normal already."

Then she had walked away, leaving him with a friend of his parents who had seen him panic and had begun to lecture him on how he didn't have to be scared to sing in church because "no matter how it sounds, it's God you're singing for, not people." Stupid old man. San couldn't really see how that should have made the situation better, and he tried to ask him, but the man just talked on. San had zoned out and just stared into the trees, wanting nothing more than to simply go home.