Chapter Text
Patterns had been a part of Bobby's life for as long as he could remember.
Small spiral marks on his left shoulder, coloring similar to the bruises he got playing with other kids.
They weren't large or painful, and most kids at school thought they looked cool, so he didn't think about them. If he didn't want to answer questions about them, he wore a shirt with sleeves. It was that simple.
It wasn't until another kid made fun of his patterns - calling them "girly" for their coloration - and he felt them itch and grow under his gaze that his mother sat him down and told Bobby about his father.
"Your father was a demon," He remembers her saying, "I don't mean that as an insult, I mean that he was from another realm."
He had curled up on her lap, his mother's thumb gently stroking the patterns his short sleeves just barely covered.
"Most demons aren't nice, but your father was different. He was a good man who got into a bad situation and made a deal with the wrong person to survive it. Demons are marked by patterns that represent their deal, patterns your father passed on to you."
Her voice had been thick with something he realized was grief far later in life. But for that moment his mother just held him as she tried to explain manipulation and emotional abuse to a five year old.
"Demons serve a king named Gwi-Ma and he's the reason most of them aren't nice. He finds people at their worst and promises them he'll help them. Only what he asks in return is their very soul. And after he collects, he makes them go out and find more souls."
"Is that what happened to dad?" Bobby asked, thoughts swirling in his brain. "Gwi-Ma found him when he needed help, and he said yes because no one else helped him?"
"That's right dear."
Understanding dawned in Bobby. "So if I help people Gwi-Ma won't be able to hurt them?"
His mother ruffled his hair. "Very noble Bobby, yes helping people will give him less targets."
"Then I'm gonna be so helpful! I'm gonna make sure Gwi-Ma can't hurt anyone else!" He leaped off his mother's lap, punching the air. "I'll make sure dad is safe!"
He hadn't understood the look on his mother's face as he paraded around the kitchen. A mix of emotions too complicated for him to understand. Even now he isn't sure what all of them were. He only knows that she shoved them away, laughter that was only partially forced erupting from her.
"What's funny mom?" Bobby stopped his dance.
"It's a very good goal, but maybe leave part of the fight to Hunters."
He cocked his head. "Hunters?"
"Demon Hunters." She paused, chewing her words. "They're the ones who deal with demons that make it through the Honmoon to hurt people. They stop demons from taking more souls back to Gwi-Ma using weapons forged from the strength of their songs."
"Can I be a Hunter?" It sounded awesome! Using music to help people? He loved music!
But his mother shook her head. "The Honmoon only chooses three women every generation. The three Hunters are already active."
Oh. Okay. "I can still help them by keeping Gwi-Ma from making deals though, right?" Bobby asked shyly.
His mother dropped to her knees and pulled him into a hug. "Of course you can, I would expect nothing less from my kind-hearted, brilliant boy."
"Just be careful, okay?" She whispered into his hair. "Patterns aren't a bad thing, but they are a mark of a demon." His mother pulled back, holding him at an arm's length. "I'm not asking you to hide them, I'm just telling you that Hunters might not know you."
"Okay mom!" Bobby replied, not understanding the implications of what she was saying.
That night when he went to bed, Bobby focused on the world around him. Focused on his patterns and the faint buzzing in his skin, how it almost followed a rhythm. Focused on the way the music from his radio bounced off the walls of his room.
And the world lit up blue.
Thin strings that reminded him of an instrument glowed on the walls.
The strings refused to give under his touch, a sense of revulsion filling him when he tried to tear them.
But he knew what he was seeing. The Honmoon. The thing that protected his world.
The thing he was going to do everything in his power to protect right back.
Bobby fell asleep with a smile that night.
From that point on he went out of his way to be kind. To help out someone who needed it.
The Honmoon took conscious effort to see, not like a Hunter who was born to interact with it or full blooded demon who was designed to. But Bobby was still able too see enough to steer his friends away from with creatures with green or blue skin and tusks.
Able to remember the women with glowing weapons that followed them shortly after.
Bobby was part demon, he could see the Honmoon, and he was going to use that ability to help people.
(Had things really been that easy back then? Had it really seemed as simple as helping people would stop Gwi-Ma? Had he ever been that naive?)
~~~~
Music had been a part of Bobby's life almost long as patterns had. Singing along to the radio at home, dancing with friends at the park, tapping out beats on his desk instead of paying attention in school. If there was an opportunity to make music, Bobby found it.
He discovered the Sunlight Sisters when he was eight. A bright, peppy song drifting over the radio while he was doing homework, lying on the linoleum instead of sitting at the table because somehow that made math easier to understand.
The lyrics hit him like a lightning bolt. Something in his soul sat up and paid attention, the Honmoon sparking to life under his fingers.
When he asked his mother about the singers she laughed and ruffled his hair.
"Those are the Hunters I told you about. I'm not surprised you like them."
For his birthday that year Bobby got a set of Sunlight Sisters DVDs. He didn't recognize the faces until a week later, when he saw one of them throwing knives at a demon in an alley.
Those DVDs were listened to every day until they wore out. And then they were replaced and listened to far more carefully.
The Sunlight Sisters disbanded when Bobby was 13, after the death of one of their members.
Both Bobby and the Honmoon wept that night, mourning the loss of something so bright, taken far too soon.
That was his first experience with grief.
It would not be his last.
~~~~
Growing up led to changes. Some of which Bobby was told to expect. Like hair in uncomfortable places and voice cracks at the worst time possible.
Some he was not told to expect. Like fangs cutting his lips when he wasn't careful, or the urge to growl at someone when they pissed him off.
The books on mythology he checked out from the library were not helpful, more concerned with telling stories than teaching him anything about demons.
Which- yes he knew that most books on mythology weren't written under the assumption that demons were real. But come on! He just wanted one book to explain demon puberty to him.
They didn't even mention patterns.
Bobby shut the book on his lap with a grumble. Another dud. He hiked his backpack higher, returned the book, thanked the librarian (because he was upset, not a monster), and walked out into the summer afternoon.
Music played through his earbuds as he headed to the train station. His mother was working late, so he needed to grab food from the market. She'd been working a lot recently; leaving him with his books, thoughts, and shifting friend group.
Which was fine. He liked reading. And thinking. And hanging out with his friends.
A short train ride later, Bobby was examining radishes while talking amicably with the vendor.
"My daughter would beg to differ," The vendor stated, bagging Bobby's radishes, a small smile betraying her amusement.
"Bright like Diamonds is a better song than Unlike Starlight, I'm afraid your daughter will just have to be wrong." Bobby exchanged a handful of money for the bag. "Have a nice day!"
"You too young man."
A creak above them interrupted their goodbyes. Starting soft, then erupting into a crack.
A canopy pole careened towards Bobby, too fast for him to do anything about.
This is how I die. He thought, bones already feeling like they were turning into smoke.
Then his vision went red and black, and the pole landed.
A few feet in front of him.
Where he had just been standing.
His legs gave out from under him. Collapsing to the ground, he stared at the beam of wood that had almost been his undoing.
"Are you alright!" Someone grabbed his arm, tried to move him away from the pole.
It was the radish vendor from before, her voice high with anxiety.
"I'm okay," he heard himself saying. "I dodged it."
The vendor pulled him to his feet. "You have good reflexes young man. I thought you were about to be crushed." Her eyes were starting to glaze over with the fog the Honmoon caused on regular people who experienced demon events. Nudging them away from fantastical solutions and towards mundane ones.
But nothing demonic had happened.
Except…
Bobby looked at his hands, nails just a little longer than they should have been.
That pole should have hit him. He hadn't dodged it.
He extracted himself from the crowd that had gathered around him, waving off their concerns. He had to test something.
At home he tossed the groceries in the fridge and stood against a wall of the kitchen, staring at the living room.
"Get from point A to point B without moving. Easy," he muttered to himself.
It took hours to recreate the experience from the market, throwing himself off the wall, hoping for something to happen.
Just as Bobby was about to give up, exhaustion taking over, he tripped, head flying towards the counter.
And then his vision went black and red and he was in the living room. Landing heavily on the couch.
He could teleport!
"Definitely one of the coolest things about being a demon," he announced to the empty room.
He could have gone to his room to add 'teleportation' to his demon biology notebook but the couch was very comfortable.
And for that reason, not because he was too tired to stand, Bobby fell asleep on the couch, oblivious to the world around him.
(He'd always been tainted, how dare he think otherwise. Finding joy in being not human? Laughable.)
~~~~
Enrolling in an idol academy after he turned 18 was second nature. Bobby had always known he wanted to perform and this was just the next step of that.
His mother had insisted upon him being an adult before he enrolled, wanting him to finish school and help around the house. But after he was 18, all bets were off.
The academy that accepted him was a boarding school, keeping it's trainees on campus. So on the first day, Bobby hugged his mother goodbye, promised to call weekly, and started the next chapter of his life
Idol training was grueling, most days after training he staggered back to his dorm and passed out, the Honmoon pulsing around him.
But he was improving. Bobby had always had good breath control and endurance, able to sing and dance to his heart's content.
Now he was learning to do so beyond his heart's content. How to keep performing through exhaustion, strengthening his body and mind at the same time.
It wasn't all rewarding, most of the instructors were strict with rules about when and how much they could eat. The older students could be cruel, never going so far as to sabotage the new trainees, but getting as close as they could without breaking the rules.
Bobby had checked, nothing they did was outright banned. They were annoyingly good at skating that line.
But good came with the bad.
He was surrounded by people who loved music just as much as he did. He'd made fast friends with a few trainees his age.
"Hey Bobby," Song Hae-min knocked on his door, forcing Bobby to pull his head out of his pillows. "A few of the guys are going to the bathhouse for our break. You want to come?"
"Yeah sure, give me a second to get ready." Bobby stretched, every vertebrae in his spine popping as he moved.
Hae-min was tying his hair back as Bobby exited his dorm, drawing attention to his knife-sharp jawline. A few others Bobby recognized waited with him, Kim Seok-jin - a lanky rapper with a crooked nose - the only one he would consider a friend, but he was at least friendly with the rest.
"Onward then!" Hae-min gestured with a dramatic bow, the group leaving the dorms, chatting amicably.
The nearest bathhouse was within walking distance of the academy, probably by design. There was a lot of money to be made off of idol trainees trying to relax for an afternoon.
Either way, Bobby paid the entry fee, changed, and slid into the water, heat sinking into his muscles.
He bit back an pleased chuff, tossing his arms over the edge of the tub.
"Sick tattoo Bobby," Seok-jin commented, joining him in the tub.
Tattoo? What was he-? Oh right!
Bobby twisted, showing off his patterns. They had grown over the years; arcing across his shoulders and both arms, ending about halfway down his bicep.
"Thanks, I got it to remember my dad." The dead dad card was a cheap shot, but it got people to stop asking questions more often than not.
Hae-min studied the shapes covering his arms, tilting his head. "The instructors were fine with it? Doesn't seem like it would be easy to cover."
"You didn't know I had them," Bobby pointed out. "If I wear sleeves I'm fine. I can cover them with makeup if really need be."
Both his friends considered that, seemed to accept the answer, and let it go. "What did you think about the training exercise we were assigned last week, total bullshit right?" Bobby tried to shift the conversation.
"Utter bullshit!" Hae-min exclaimed, slapping the water. The splash hit Seok-jin in the face, causing him to sputter. Hae-min tried to apologize, but Seok-jin flicked water into his nose in retaliation.
Maybe they got told off by the staff for disturbing the other patrons and Bobby had to apologize profusely, but it was worth it to see his friends laugh.
~~~~
Time passed, auditions came and went, and eventually Bobby scored a contract. The day he received the offer was one of the best of his life. The future he had worked towards for so long was finally here.
Bobby and Hae-min ended up being signed onto the same company while Seok-jin was pursued by a different one. Their goodbye was sorrowful, but it wasn't like they were never going to see each other again.
"Don't forget me when you're rich and famous," Seok-jin said, hugging both of them.
"Only if you do the same." Bobby was not going to cry. He was not! But damn it he was proud of his friends.
A lease on an apartment with Hae-min, research into train schedules, and employee IDs later, he and Hae-min were ready for their first day as official kpop idols.
Their manager greeted them as they entered the studio. He was nice enough, a little fond of legal speak that went over Bobby's head, but not openly antagonistic.
"The two of you will be joined by a third idol who was also recently signed on," their manager informed them, gesturing for a boy little younger than them to enter.
Choi Jae-hyun was…cordial. He didn't seem interested in making friends, dodging Bobby and Hae-min's attempts to include him in their outings. But that was fine. He was never anything other than polite and was a damn good performer to boot.
Their debut went well. It was nothing stellar, but to be fair neither were they. A trio of beginners who were still figuring out how to work together. But the debut made money and nothing went catastrophically wrong, so Bobby considered that a win.
Things continued like that for a while. Gradually they got better. Choi was still a coworker, not a friend, but he had good advice and laughed at Bobby's jokes.
Hae-min embraced his role as visual, somehow getting more attractive. Makeup drew attention to his angular features, smile like a blade in the dark, hair that reached the middle of his back a sleek, ink-black wave.
As for Bobby himself? He turned into the team caretaker. Making sure everyone was resting, checking with the staff when things were off. Learning about the ins and outs of the idol industry.
Maybe he was the worst performer in the group. Maybe they all knew it. But without him they would have burnt out a long time ago. And so he tossed Choi a water bottle at the end of practices, walked home with Hae-min excitedly talking about the lyric structure in their newest song, and let the comfort of being a good friend settle in his bones.
Fan meets were probably Bobby's favorite part of being an idol. Seeing the people he impacted in person was something he held dear. Their fan base was small but dedicated. They didn't sell out stands, they didn't score massive brand deals.
But Bobby greeted each one with a smile, pride thrumming in his chest whenever someone gushed about how their music had changed them.
What they had wasn't big, but it was good. It was meaningful.
Then one of their songs went viral.
And things changed.
It wasn't even one of the songs they were proud of; one they'd spent weeks fine tuning the lyrics of, tweaking the choreography until it was perfect, altering the instrumental up to the last minute.
It was a silly love song Hae-min had written most of while he and Bobby were watching k-dramas.
'Fool of the Heart' they'd called it. It was meant as a puff piece. An earworm that would inevitably get buried under their higher quality releases.
The public loved it.
So did their label.
And like flipping a switch, their manager became crueler.
Maybe he had always been like this, he just didn't have a reason to reveal it. Maybe he got a taste of power and let it go to his head.
The why didn't matter. All the mattered was practices got longer, lyric drafts were discarded unless they matched the style of Fool of the Heart.
Then their manager tried to restrict access to food.
Apparently, the three of them needed to work on their image. Never mind the fact their calorie intake was monitored by a team meant to keep them healthy.
"If any of you don't abide by the new limits, I will cut all of you loose." Their manager had a sick gleam in his eye when he presented their new eating schedules. The calorie number was a starvation diet.
"There's no way that's legal," Choi whispered to him as they left.
It couldn't be. Right? There had to be something prohibiting this.
The contracts.
"Choi, I need a copy of your idol contract." Bobby felt an urge to tear through a book in a way he hadn't since he was a teen.
"Why? What do you have planned?" Choi Jae-Hyun looked at him, fear bleeding into his frame.
"Something proving he's in the wrong. Do you trust me?"
For a second, Bobby thought Choi Jae-Hyun was going to say no, leave him without a crucial document. But then he nodded. "I have it in a safe at my apartment. I'll give you and Hae-min a ride to my place."
That night, Bobby did not sleep. Instead he read all of their contracts cover to cover. Termination clauses, distribution rights, image control. Every time a phrase he didn't know came up, he would research it, falling down a rabbit hole of legal cases.
The sun was just starting to crest over the horizon when the final words of legalese clicked in his brain.
"What are you doing up?" Hae-min asked, entering the kitchen, flicking the lights on. It was only then Bobby realized he was reading using his night vision, eyes quickly changing from gold to brown as they recovered from the flash bang Hae-min inadvertently gave him.
Bobby held up their contracts, a small clause circled on all three of them. His grin was manic, fangs on full display as he pointed to the line of text that was going to be their manager's downfall. "Saving our asses."
After chugging enough coffee to turn the tips of his fingers numb, Bobby and Hae-min met Choi outside the studio.
"Don't worry, I figured it out." Bobby was well aware he looked insane; bags under his eyes dark enough to be bruises, a faint tremor to his hands, grin that wouldn't quite calm to a normal smile.
Choi just stared at him, opening his mouth to say something when their manager rounded the corner.
"Ah good, you're all here early." Had his voice always been that annoying? "We have things to discuss about your new schedules."
"Actually," Bobby pushed past his bandmates, "I believe you need to reread our contracts. You don't have nearly as much power as you think you do."
"What are you talking about. I am your manager, I know your contracts better than you do."
"If that were true, you would remember section 14, clause 33b. In layman's terms it says that idols are not required to partake in actions that may cause them harm." Bobby was chest to chest with his manager. "The proposed diet is significantly under the recommended caloric intake of an active adult and I think multiple nutrition specialists employed here would agree that is considered harmful." He bared his teeth, their manager flinching at the sight of his fangs. "And you don't have the grounds to terminate any of us over this."
He pressed the contract into their manager's chest, "I circled everything relevant to this conversation. I suggest you let this drop before you embarrass yourself trying to fight all of on this."
The hallway was silent but for Bobby's heavy breathing. All of this relied on their manager not being willing to break contract law. He was reasonably sure the nutrition staff would be on his side, as would the choreographers and lyricists that had to deal with their manager recently.
But if they had to make a big deal of this, the legal department might not be.
Choices hung in the air, their manager gnashing his teeth as he read the pertinent sections. His face went scarlet as they fit together, spelling out exactly what Bobby had said they would.
"Fine," he spat, "Have your meals, but practices stay the same as they are now."
So what if Bobby nearly fell on his face twice that practice, Choi danced like a weight had been dropped from his shoulders and Hae-min made faces at their manager whenever his back was turned. That alone made it worth it
"You both can call me Jae-hyun, after something like that, I think we're friends."
"Only if you call me Bobby. You want to come back to Hae-min and I's place for drinks?"
Maybe the three of them fell asleep in the living room, Hae-min's head against his ribs. Maybe they all drank way too much soju. Maybe they were all off at practice the next day.
But the three of them were officially friends and the future was bright.
(Look at him, dragging others down with him. It would have been better if they'd learned to roll over sooner. There is no such thing as a victory for those caught under another's heel.)
~~~~
Bobby and their manager fell into a dance of sorts. There would be an attempt to change their training and Bobby would rebuff it, citing the clause or legal code forbidding it.
He got away with it for one simple reason: their manager was a coward. He expected people to not know the power they held. As soon as they called him out, he backed off; scared of getting into actual trouble.
It wasn't sustainable forever, eventually something would have to give. But Bobby's strategy worked for the moment.
So for the moment, it was good.
Slowly Jae-hyun to opened up to them, tales of a rough childhood, unreachable expectations, and locked closets spilling from his lips in the comfort of their living room.
They introduced Jae-hyun and Seok-jin, one rare afternoon they all had off who got on like a house on fire.
"Maybe this was a bad idea," Hae-min whispered to him as they all sat in Jae-hyun's living room, a forgotten card game between them. Hae-min's lips grazed Bobby's ear, sending sparks down his spine.
"Nah, our friends are becoming friends. How could that be a bad thing?" Bobby tried to ignore the flush of his cheeks while Hae-min glared at him.
"It's a bad thing when one of them knows all of our embarrassing stories from training and the other knows all of our embarrassing stories from tours."
Maybe there was merit to that. However, the idea of joining two aspects of his life was too tempting to sabotage this.
"Bobby's a real hero," Jae-hyun insisted, dragging him into the conversation. "He deals with our manager whenever he tries to mess with us."
"It's not that impressive." Bobby was sure his face was bright red at the praise. "You would have done the same."
Hae-min furrowed his brows. "We didn't. You were the one who figured out the legalese of the contracts. You were the one who didn't and hasn't backed down since."
"Take the compliment, my friend." Jae-hyun gave him a rare smile. "I don't want to think about what we would have done without you."
The Honmoon sparked under his fingers as Bobby scratched at the couch. "You guys are my friends. I just wanted to protect you."
It was that simple. The rest of the night passed easily, jokes and games winding between them like a cat looking for attention.
~~~~
That 'something' gave while they were on tour.
The night started out as tours usually did. The three of them had separate hotel rooms but inevitably, he or Hae-min would end up in the other's, talking the hours away.
Hae-min's head was in his lap, a book on legal code open in one of Bobby's hands, the other carding through his friends hair.
"Do you ever put those down?" Hae-min asked, voice slurring with exhaustion.
"When I'm performing. Or training." Bobby marked his place and closed the book, staring at his friend.
"You work too hard. You know enough to deal with our jackass in charge. Do you want to go to law school or something after we retire?" It sounded like a joke, but Hae-min's brows furrowed in genuine confusion.
"No, I've just always liked research. Makes me feel closer to my dad."
Hae-min pulled himself upward, causing Bobby to mourn the loss of warmth. "You never talk about him. Do you…do you want to?"
Wasn't that the question. For all his research into demons, Bobby had never spoken to anyone aside from his mother about them. Out of fear of not being believed, out of wanting to keep something personal close, for a million different reasons.
But here in the slightly too cold hotel room, his best friend by his side, Bobby pulled secrets from his soul like they hadn't been under lock and key for decades.
"My dad died before I was born, he was really into Korean mythology."
Not the truth, but not entirely a lie.
"It was something he and my mother bonded over. It's why I have the tattoos, they represent demons in some really esoteric books he was fond of. I spent a lot of my childhood in libraries chasing down those novels. That's how I got so good at research."
Tears dripped down Bobby's face. Was it weird to mourn someone you never got to meet?
Hae-min squeezed his hand. "What happened to him?"
The truth he'd pried out of his mother when he was 16 surged forward. "He was murdered. Fell in with someone dangerous. Someone who promised he could help my dad. When my dad couldn't keep up his end of the bargain-" Bobby shook his head. "You can guess what the price was."
"I'm so sorry."
"It's fine, I've processed what happened."
Hae-min looked like he wanted to protest, but instead hugged him. "Thank you for making sure none of us made deals we wouldn't have been able to uphold."
They sat like that for a while, just basking in each other's presence.
"I'm going to let you get some sleep." Hae-min detached himself from Bobby. "Call me if you need anything."
"I will."
As Hae-min slid off Bobby's bed, there was a moment where they locked eyes. A moment when the air charged with electricity. A moment where Bobby's breath caught, and they just stared at each other, Hae-min's lips slightly parted, his own suddenly too dry.
The moment passed.
The door closed behind Hae-min.
Sleep followed too quickly after.
Ringing on the nightstand woke Bobby up, far too early.
"Hello?" He asked, trying to shake cobwebs out of his brain.
"Is this Park Robert?" A voice he didn't recognize filtered through the phone.
"It is."
"I'm afraid I'm calling with bad news. It's about your mother."
His world turned to ashes.
~~~~
It was an accident.
Car crash. Drunk driver went onto the sidewalk.
Two injuries, one fatality.
He missed the funeral, across the country and unable to book passage on such a short notice.
When he got back, all remained was a headstone and an apartment with too many things and too many memories.
It rained the first time he visited the cemetery, which felt right.
The flowers Bobby brought blew away in the wind as his knees hit the muddy dirt.
That also felt right.
The Honmoon crooned as he sobbed, feeling mocking instead of welcoming for the first time in his life.
Betrayal was the last thing he feels for a long time.
He stopped defending his bandmates from their manager, accepting the changes to their routine without complaint.
His dancing was robotic, singing clean but emotionless.
The person who stared back at him in the mirror starts to become a stranger.
He avoided mirrors after that realization.
Hae-min and Jae-hyun tried to drag him into bonding exercises. He rebuffs them every time, locking himself in his room after training.
The only thing that didn't change were his patterns; they spread because of shame or self hatred.
You can't feel shame if you don't feel anything at all.
Hae-min and Jae-hyun eventually start to pull back, letting him wallow in his grief alone.
If he could feel anything, he would have been relived.
That's a lie, he'd beg them to stay.
Hae-min started wearing long sleeves.
He didn't notice until too late.
Despite his zombie-like state, their band started to gain popularity.
Small things at first, a brand deal that got more popular than anyone expected. A song a celebrity mentioned liking gaining views.
Then big things. Sold out venues, merch flying off the shelves.
Bobby wanted to be proud, he just couldn't find the energy to.
Everything came to a head when Bobby woke up to Hae-min screaming in the bathroom.
Panic was the first emotion he felt clearly in months.
The door was locked. That didn't matter to a half-demon.
Wood splintered across his shoulder as he rammed the door open, finding Hae-min on the floor.
Patterns arcing around his body.
The Honmoon screamed as Hae-min writhed, purple-black patterns searing into his skin like brands.
Bobby's knees ached with how quickly he hit the floor, pulling is friend into his lap.
"What did you do?" The stench of burning skin filled the bathroom.
Hae-min's skin was slick with sweat. When he opened his eyes, they were gold, pupils slits. "They same thing you did."
"What are you talking about? Whatever, it's not important. We need to get you to a hospital." Bobby tried to drag his friend to his feet, hands slipping as Hae-min refused to cooperate.
"I made a deal with Gwi-Ma. That's why you also have the patterns. Right?"
The world froze. Bobby's breath stilled in his lungs. Even the Honmoon, screeching like an abused string instrument faded into the background.
"How do you know that name." The name Gwi-Ma wasn't in any book he'd found. The only reason he knew it was because he'd been told…
Hae-min barked a joyless laugh. "Like I said. I made a deal." He smiled, mouth bloody as fang grew in where normal teeth had been. "And now he's coming to collect."
No no no no no.
This wasn't happening. His best friend wasn't turning into a demon. He could fix this.
Hae-min's screams rang anew as the Honmoon wrapped around him, garrote wires digging into his flesh.
The Honmoon was designed to keep demons out of the human realm.
Pale skin turned to dark blue.
It only treated full blooded demons like this.
Bobby grabbed the weave of the Honmoon, intent on shredding it, pulling his friend free.
"Don't," Hae-min gurgled. "This was my choice. Don't damn yourself as well."
A magenta rift opened underneath his friend.
And then he was gone.
And Bobby sat shell shocked in the bathroom until sirens reached his ears.
Someone had heard the screaming.
Police questioned him. They would never be able to prove anything.
(Parasite. He couldn't even save his best friend. His fault, his fault, his fault)
~~~~
Hae-min became a missing persons case that was never solved.
Their band was quietly dissolved in the wake on Hae-min's assumed death.
"Don't contact me," Jae-hyun snarled after the news broke. He didn't need to say it out loud for Bobby to recognize he blamed him for what happened to Hae-min.
It was fine. Bobby blamed himself as well.
Jae-hyun had a contract lined up with another music label within weeks. He was always the best of their group.
Seok-jin stopped returning his calls.
And Bobby…drifted.
He worked dead end jobs, trying to pay a rent that was meant for two people to split.
He stopped checking on the Honmoon, the image of Hae-min being consumed by it flashing across his eyes every time he thought about doing so.
In the end, what saved him was so simple it was almost stupid.
A rainy afternoon, a teenager with earbuds in, a hydroplaning car.
Demonic reflexes reinforced by years of dance training.
One moment there is a car heading towards a teenage girl, neither with time to react.
The next Bobby is engulfed in red and black smoke, tackling her out of the way.
"Are you alright?" He hears himself ask, head spinning with exertion.
"Y-yeah," the teenager stammers. "Thank you."
It's then he noticed the Sunlight Sisters pin on her bag.
"You a fan?" He nodded at the pin, helping her too her feet. The gouge on her leg looked bad, but she's alive.
"The biggest! My mom got me into them. She was able to watch them in concert and I'm eternally jealous."
The driver staggered out of the car, apologizing profusely. The three of them wrapped the teen's leg in the driver's jacket and waited for emergency services to arrive, talking about music.
There was a lightness in Bobby's chest as he walked home. For the first time in years he dug out the Sunlight Sisters DVD his mom bought him and listened to it, emotion washing over him.
"They wouldn't want me to throw my life away," He said to the empty apartment, tears drying on his face.
Things don't get better immediately.
But slowly the world started to regain it's color.
He sought out a therapist, tearing out layers of grief, years of anxiety, feelings of betrayal.
Antidepressants are a blessing.
The voice in the back of his head insisting he's a failure quiets. On most days at least.
There's a bitter satisfaction in watching his edges soften, his cheeks rounding. His manager would have a conniption if he saw what Bobby looked like now.
His days of idol-hood are behind him. But maybe if he got a position in management he could prevent what happened to his group from happening to someone else.
He pulled together a resume, years of experience in the music industry, his knowledge of contract law, his ability to research making it much grander than he would have assumed.
It was a pipe dream when he submitted it to Sunlight Studios.
Imagine his surprise at the phone call.
Bobby expected a middle management person to perform his interview. Instead it's Celine of the Sunlight Sisters herself.
A Hunter. Someone who could pierce his heart with a blade made of starlight in a fraction of a second of a second if she so chose.
Had she done that to Hae-min? Was he safe?
He's careful to speak in a way that doesn't expose his fangs
The interview was a blur. Bobby was certain he messed something up. But at the end, Celine tapped a stack of paper on her desk and said, "It was a pleasure to meet you Mr. Park. We will be in contact with your employment contract."
And the next chapter of Bobby's life opened.
(Did he really believe he could help them? The very people sworn to destroy him. What a fool)