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@avxjackson-blog
Jackson and Seungri || Flashback
Finally. Finally. Some stretched out words were heard from the younger’s quiet bruised mouth. The doctors seemed to have it stitched up, if he could remember it the corner of his lip was busted and quiet badly at that too. But nonetheless, he was one step closer to home and the cosy apartment, no more people to deal with; once he gets his money back of course. Seungri was stubbornly keen on getting back what was his. Ignoring Jackson’s first question, he looking around for the emergency button, they usually have that around the patient’s bed, but how come there wasn’t a one at this one. Was he blind or what-? The other nurses were a little busy from what he could see out of the room, with a heaved sigh he decides to wait another five minutes.
There was a clear pain in those words, he could hear it, and as much as he wouldn’t admit it to himself, Seungri was just a tad, a very little tad, sympathetic towards him. If this was a simple innocent attack then this was something not in Jackson’s power to prevent. Enough of his thoughts already, if he were to find what really happened, the first go to was Jackson himself. If this little patient could even remember half of the night it would be great. Careful Ri echoes in his mind as the younger male propped himself a little higher and into a seating position - which looked painful enough to do so he could only imagine the struck of pain to the cleaned flesh - obviously meant for the other to hear but it being in his nature, too stubborn to let his soft side slide.
“Yeah. You tell me. Why the hell is it that I found you half dead under my feet?” he recalls the two hours ago, if he didn’t lose track of time. “Street fight? Owed money for drugs? Because you got a pretty damn good beating to your pretty face.”
Street fight? Owed money for drugs? Each and every word echoed in Jackson’s mind as the words fell from the blonde-haired male. Why am I here? That question was still constant in his head. Why… Why was it so difficult to remember something that happened just a couple of hours before? Frankly the question was rather dumb but he hated being in such state. He felt vulnerable, weak, like if a simple poke to his shoulder could disintegrate for good his entire being. The god damn frustration. He couldn’t possibly count on the tips of his fingers how many times he promised to himself not to end ever again in such situation, yet here he was again, all bruised up in a hospital bed and fragile like a young toddler. He could feel a certain vibe coming from the other, something that Jackson couldn’t quite get a grasp on or could give a name to- the only thing that Jackson was pretty certain of was that the older male wasn’t standing in that cold, unwelcoming hospital room with the wall impregnated of disinfectant just because he truly cared about the young Chinese male. He didn’t seem like that type of person.
Why is he bombarding me with so many questions?! Jackson hated that. All he could feel was pain and a pulsing sensation. He felt like his head was ready to explode any moment soon and the amount of effort that it took him not to hiss or whine because of the pain- well, no one could possibly imagine it, and the load of questions thrown at him to which he was trying to answer made his state ten times worst. His lips pressed firmly together to refrain the groan of pain elicited by the pulsing sensation, yet the simple gesture brought about even more pain as he didn’t realise how severely stitched his lips were. Stupid stitches. At that stage it was impossible for Jackson to refrain the faint groan of complaint that soared from the back of his throat and spilled through the plush lips, the pain too great to refrain any possible sound from being produced and spilled out to the exterior. Yet one thing had to be admitted by Jackson, he had the great ability to cope with pain excellently. No matter the amount or intensity of pain that ran through his whole body, he always managed to make it seem like if it was way less than painful than what it actually was. He wondered if he managed to do the same even this time. Either way he knew he owed an explanation to the other, a plausible reason why he was stuck in a hospital room at such ungodly hour of the night. There was a reason, a simple one too: a fair skinned girl with long, ebony locks and two, deep black eyes staring at him and begging for help. Instead of processing a long, detailed explanation, Jackson decided to let the words flow from his mind to his lips without too much thought as his headache was a real obstacle to his thoughts. “There was a girl… and a bunch of guys… she was really scared… she screamed too… I think they wanted to rape her… I need a painkiller before my head explodes.” He hated showing off too much his pain but what else could he possibly to when it almost felt like someone was stabbing his skull and brain repeatedly?
Jackson and Seungri || Flashback
Oh man. The boy was seriously out cold and for sure it didn’t look like a one on one fight. From the way it looked, it was an unfair scene – he’d know. Wouldn’t be the first time he tried to fight a group, those were the cold days of his solitude, the first time he ever started picking himself up from the last incident that labelled him as an orphan. You better not be a drug dealer kid or I’ll choke you myself he mumbled under his breath, continuing with his observations of the body. He didn’t seem local, or at least – an immigrant? Perhaps, Even the name on the id card wasn’t one that belonged to a Korean. Jackson Wang? American and Chinese? For sure he wasn’t atrocious to look at, the boy had nice features that were in a perfect proportion that others could label as a lady killer. But those details aside – to stop the bleeding fully for the meantime, he grabbed one of the towels nearby, scrunching the material into a ball, and had it pressed to the back of the younger’s neck, adding pressure to the wound for it to work better as the fabric soaked in the mixture of the red substance and dirty rain.
Seunghyun was careful, and his touch as unbelievable as it may sound, was gentle enough not to cause any more destruction to his body, but there wasn’t anything of any sort that he was able to do here without the help of medical tools. And at the hour, and place they were both in – there weren’t any. This was a huge headache, Ri was already knocked out of his energy as it was, sent the passing out woman back home and finished with the last chore so why the hell was he held back here looking after a limp body?
He pinched the bridge of his nose. Right, if he was going to be rid of the last bother he was opt to get the ambulance on the go, and preferably as fast as possible before Jackson’s pulse could be any more weaker. Grabbing the device out of his pocket, he dials the helpline, filling them up on the unknown incident, the name of the casino and the address.
~
Ri was already pacing back and forth on the tiled floor of the hospital waiting room, hands behind his back, and he kept constantly glancing over at the time. Shit. Well, all in all, his morning and afternoon were free. How lucky. The kid needed to wake up as soon as possible, give him back the money for the medical bills and part ways. He recalled the doctor telling him it was a good timing, any longer wait and Jackson would’ve lost more blood within the time, sucked into a coma and that would’ve been a difficult time to bring him back. Great, I’m a saving angel now, this ought to get me to heaven that thought occupied his mind with that full on sarcasm he was famous for.
A sigh slips. The nurse came out, finally allowing him into the resting room where the saved patient was put, before she exited the room leaving the two of them in the silence. He still hadn’t any clues as to why he stayed in the hospital. Oh yeah, hospital bills. Right. pretty decent enough reason, and as they say money doesn’t grow on trees, and if it did – well, it didn’t matter, what’s not yours isn’t yours; this town is corrupted already as it is.
All in all – it seemed like Jackson was slowly waking from the dosage of drugs the doctors had injected him with, he assumed that much at least, being the one lying on the hospital bed and not the first time either. Seungri’s body hovered over him, his eyes narrowing just as his brows knit together in curiosity, praying that those eyelids wouldn’t shut back down. His hopes shoot up high now that a sign of liveliness was coming back to him, Ri’s eyes detected a flinch of the other male’s finger, and that’s when he knew that finally, Jackson – if that was his real name, was snapping out of his dull sleep. “…Hello?” Ri’s hand comes to wave over Jackson’s face to gain attention from him. “Coming back to life? I should probably call the nurse over then–”
What the hell is he doing? That was the first thought that flashed through Jackson’s mind as the palm waved over his visage in an attempt to catch his attention. His eyelids were fully open but his sight was slightly blurred, causing his eyes to blink quickly, almost uncontrollably, in a weak attempt to bring his sight back to focus just like a camera fixes its focus in order to take a clear picture of the panorama before itself. Why I can’t see properly? Silly question, Jackson, you already know the answer. After all it wasn’t the first time his sight was in such state, so why wasting his own time and energy by trying to find an answer when it was basically under his nose? If he remembered well, since the last time he got beaten up so severely, his eyes were probably red like a burning flame and the dark brown irises were barely recognizable in the whole. He surely didn’t miss that, and even more surely he didn’t miss all that pain that crept along his thick frame.
The mentioning of a nurse make his brows knit together for a short moment as it his brain tries to process the words uttered by the other before he soon finds himself to repeat in a hushed mumble “Call the nurse?” Hospital? Why was he in hospital? For some reason he still couldn’t quite recall the events of the past night. All he could remember was a scared girl glancing at him before disappearing in the darkness. Of course he was aware that someone beat him up, that god damn pain that wouldn’t leave him alone was the damning evidence that for sure he didn’t just receive a small pinch on the forearm or a light nudge, but he couldn’t exactly remember what happened to him. “Am I in hospital? What happened?” He inquiries lowly, his voice clearly pull of pain as his palms come to press against the mattress below and with extremely slow, careful movements, he drags his body to a slightly more seated position; his intense gaze wanders attentively along his surroundings before eventually locking with the other male, lips sealed together as he quietly inspects the older male and a question that his lips aren’t able to utter echos in his head. Who is this guy?
「α little help - jihyo&jackson」
Trying to get these goons out of her garage, Jihyo glares up at the beefy men as she tries to push them out of her shop. Her work place was quite open: with the garage door up, one could visibly see what was happening inside the shop. “Look here bud. If neither of you can pay for the upgrades you want on your cars, then get the hell out of my garage.”
Admittedly, despite the mechanic’s harsh words and movements, Jihyo was quite thin and petite, meaning there was no way in hell she can push out two muscly guys out of her work place by herself. Looking past the two males to the large, open door way which served as an entrance to people as well as cars, the mechanic could only hope that a person would actually take pity on her and try to kick some sense into these two thugs.
Jackson was taking his sweet time as he silently paced towards the car-park where he had parked his motorbike not longer than thirty minutes before. His steps were steady yet relaxed at the same time, not wanting to rush his stride towards his vehicle as now he was focused on something else- a cigarette. Carefully trapped between the thick digits of his hand to avoid its escape, the boy was quietly basking himself in the feeling of that sweet poison that pervaded every cell of his body. Jackson had a simple rule: only one cigarette per day, period. Only because he had a bad habit he didn’t want to fuck up completely with his health and only one cigarette per day was surely healthier than smoking a full packet of cigarette (at least he belied so) and god, he had waited for that cigarette for the full day and in that exact moment he just wanted to enjoy it to the very last inhale of smoke. Completely lost in his thoughts and in the pleasing feeling of the warm smoke filling his lungs before escaping his lips in a slow, long stream of air something suddenly catches his attention without even the smallest warning. Dark orbs dart in the direction of the garage the moment the voice of a woman reaches his ears out of nowhere, feet coming to a halt and putting on pause his invisible trail of steps while, silently, his attentive gaze studies the situation that was unfolding before him. It was obvious that the older lady inside the garage needed help. He didn’t want to be impulsive as impulsiveness brings about nothing good. Instead he stands there, inhaling and exhaling the poisonous smoke at regular intervals before he decides to do his move... he had to be cute about it, approach in a casual and calm way as the last thing he wanted to do was causing troubles. After all no one likes troubles, right? With a somewhat bouncy step he approaches the garage and wearing one of his so famous charming smiles he steps within the confines of the foreign ambiance, feet carrying him closer to the older female whilst his head performs a small bow towards the lady and then towards the two (considerably bigger than him) man as his feet when in the process of halting their path once again. “Ah I’m very sorry for the interruption, I really am, but I’m having some trouble with my motorbike. Miss, would you mind come with me? I parked it in the car park around the corner and now it won’t start anymore.”
Jackson and Seungri || Flashback
「“Miss? Miss–?” Seungri tries to get the attention of the woman almost passing out on the edge of the counter, but even more, she kept asking for another shot. He wasn’t the one to refuse his customers, and as much as he’d be happy to serve the dark haired woman with awfully nice lips another drink, from the way he could see it, her body would end up limp against the black counter and he didn’t want to be the one dealing with her. His shift was soon about to end after all and he just couldn’t wait to change out of his clothes and fall into the warm atmosphere of his comfortable apartment. The only place he felt at home. It was warm, spacious, and best part of all, he could escape from his endless, suffocating thoughts of, well- everything. A few floors up from the ground, that view from his window was undeniably beautiful; colourful lights filling up the city and adding colour to the black surrounding, bringing him into illusion of pure peace, where corruption and tragedies didn’t exist in an every day life. Unfortunately, that created illusion wouldn’t last for very long.
The air reeked of alcohol, and not only because he’s the one working around those bottles, but the men and women intoxicated to their fullest at this early morning. 3AM to be exact as the clock strikes its hands over the number. Most certainly not the hour for him to be friendly. “I think you’ve had too much. I’ll call the cab for you.” Even though he barely cared for others that surrounded him, especially in a dirty place like this full of male men lurking and waiting for their chance to grab as much money as they could, bluff their opponents, till there was nothing left of them but grief in pain of losing everything they had. Enough said. Yes, Seungri was cold towards others and it took god knows how long for a person be it male or female to make their way into that small, complicated heart of his. However, as much as he hated women who got themselves into such a state in front of him, he wasn’t the one to leave them. If he didn’t do it, the first most likely situation is that, that short dress of hers would catch the attention of a hungry male, who knows if she’d even get home. Besides, the sooner she goes, the sooner he gets to have his way and leave. And finally. Now that there wasn’t anything else holding him back, he pats his co-worker taking over his shift on the back before heading into the changing room. His bow tie off, followed by the vest and the shirt, his fingers break the buttons from their captivity, rolling his shoulders to have the fabric slide off before neatly placing it in his locker. His casual tee on, topped by a hoody and – Ready. Seungri grabs onto the two large black bags to take the trash as his final chore of the early day, through the back as he came closer to the door. Man, the rain was lashing, banging against the ground in a deafening manner, and not that it was a problem for him. At home, with a glass of wine in his hand he did in fact enjoy the sound of the raindrops against his window, calming, relaxing. But at this moment, he didn’t even bring an umbrella. He was thankful his car wasn’t too far away, and underground that is too, parked perfectly in the usual spot. The blonde man sighs and pushes past the doors, his feet carrying his body faster to get rid of these as soon as possible while the rain still had its way with him, soaking into the fabric that so easily absorbed the falling water too, dripping down his hair. Fucking done. He groans to himself, and turns around ready to lunge for the doors until something had him freeze in his tracks. It was a body. A body of a younger male it seemed, and a one that wasn’t moving either. Brows furrowed together, Seungri takes a glance around before voicing out to gain attention and make sure the man didn’t just pass out because of too many drinks. “Yah! Get the hell up man, this place is mainly for the staff” he adds, even though the back doors lead into an alley that many lurked around, it being an easy access to get into; no gates, no nothing – he still didn’t appreciate finding a bother lying like this nearby his feet. With no answer, enough was enough. “Fuck sake, get your drunk ass out of he–” something wasn’t right, and something told him that the sticky substance on his fingers as he came to pick up the younger male, wasn’t rain. Blood. Christ, that’s what he needed right now. Dealing with a bunch of delinquents. But it seemed that he was out cold. “Yah…Yah..Wake up!” his palm came into contact against the boys smooth cheek in a light slap, hoping in this way he could pull him out of his unconscious state, and he did as much as he could, calling out, his pulse was still going so no way was the kid dead. “Can you hear me?” It was no good of course. With his strength, he drags the boy inside, letting his body lay onto the bench in the changing room, uncomfortable as it might’ve been, it was better than in the pouring rain. He carefully examines the wound, getting a clean cloth to wipe some of the blood off. 」
Damn rain. Even though Jackson’s body was completely numb coldness crept through his bones, muscles, flesh. How long did the boy spent under that lashing rain? Minutes? Hours? Days? Probably a stone would have had a better time perception than him in that specific moment. The sensitive nerves of his skin could feel the sticky, tepid blood trailing down the chiselled features before fading in the dark concrete. That was the only thing Jackson could feel, his own blood staining his skin before disappearing into nothing as the cold drops of water fell without a break upon his immobile body. “How did you get yourself in this situation? Why you so stupid?” If Jackson brain had even the smallest ability to think or form sentences (or even just simple words), those were the words that would’ve resonated in the boy’s head. Seriously, why was he so stupid? He haven’t been careful enough. Scatterbrained. But all those years of violence and endless pain should’ve taught you a lesson, right Jackson? Seems like you’ve learned nothing. You silly boy.
What was that? A voice? It seemed like a voice, a male voice, but how could he possibly judge in the state he was in. It seemed like it shouted at someone but his mind couldn’t possibly grasp and process the words that left the stranger’s lips uttered. It felt like a small part of his brain could capt what happened around him, but at the same he couldn’t react or possibly understand thoroughly what exactly happened. Maybe it could be considered an exaggeration but the young lad felt almost in coma. How can few kicks and punches reduce someone in such state? Ah, nice question. The ring of that foreign voice felt weird, extremely distant, just like if two individuals were standing at opposite sides of a tunnel only god knows how long and one of them tried to shout to the other with hopes of being heard. But of course, all it could be heard on the opposite side was the faint echo that slowly but surely tried to find the exit of the tunnel and failed in its attempt. That’s exactly how the ring of that voice felt. That couldn’t be considered hearing- probably what was happening didn’t had a proper name or word to describe it. He definitely wasn’t conscious, that was a fact. His being could only capt faint fragments of what happened around him, but he couldn’t possibly comprehend even the slightest what the hell was going on. He could’ve never possibly imagined that the stranger who thought he was drunk and shouted at him would’ve dragged him inside and cleaned the blood from Jackson’s wound. If he wanted he could’ve left the boy there, laying down on the ground or just drag him inside before calling the police, but he didn’t. How can someone possibly be this nice to Jackson? Probably that would be the biggest mystery in the boy’s life that’d stay forever unsolved, no matter how hard he tried to find the solution to this riddle.
Jackson’s unconsciousness did not allow him to allow him to understand which were the events that followed the two male’s encounter (if that could be even be called an encounter), but the first memory that the boy had after that hellish night was blonde, blonde hair to be more specific.It was hard and fuck, it was painful as hell, to open his eyes once again. Jackson felt like if it took me minutes, if not hours, to open his eyes once again. They burned like if a flame lived in them and they hurt like if a evil, invisible force stabbed the sensitive organs with the strength of a thousand needles. His sense of smell was utterly pervaded from the smell of his own blood and honestly? It didn’t smell great. In a heartbeat it hit him- initially his body was denumbed, but in a matter of few seconds he felt it. Pain. Raw, simple pain. It hit him without warning almost with the force a tsunami. He wasn’t expecting it, he wasn’t ready for it, his body wasn’t ready for it and GOD, it hurt in a way that words could’ve never conveyed. Tho despite the intense wave of pain Jackson focus was on something else, even if just momentarily. A blonde man not much older than him sleeping on a reclining chair next to him. Who was him?