it's easier than she expected. maybe it has something to do with the drugs in her system, or the sudden rage that just took over her at the sight of his smug, sleazy smile. he lands with a loud thump and she's certain she heard a crack the moment his head makes contact with the bottom of the staircase. even in this state of mind, the reality of what she just did dawns on her.
"i swear i didn't mean to do that."
jaein — things happen in slow motion. yua pushes and junyoung falls. he falls backwards, head first and lands at the bottom of the landing like a broken marionette. all the while, jaein laughs. they're terrible people, but yua isn't. yua's a good girl who's maybe too naive for her good but she's not a killer, she's not like the rest of them. it all takes a second to process, the laughters still lilting off of her tongue but her hands are clinging to the hem the railing white knuckled in terror. "junyoung, get the fuck up." she heard the crack as well as anyone else, and jaein's no doctor but she knows enough about the human anatomy to know he's in a bad way. "seriously get up, people might think you're dead or something."
doug — he runs to the railing—it happens too fast for him to yell—but when he hears the sudden crack against concrete his mouth gives way to sound. it's enough of a fall to make him recoil and his hands fist into balls by his chest still cold from the metal banister. "whoa, whoa, whoa, what the fuck, yua?!" he cries out, eyes shot wide. jaein's laughter bounces off the walls in giant waves and doug's heart beats on overdrive. his feet don't budge, though. he can't lift them. "hyung?"
yeonju — she’s thoroughly inebriated, careless with the way she handles her vices. pop a pill, wash it down. many more to follow in once the high hits an hour in. she’s barely focused enough to notice (instead, cigarette in hand, her eyes are fixated on her phone) attention drawn only from the photo app at doug’s cries. “what?” a laugh, “wait what—what’d she do?” yeonju bites onto the butt, inhaling deeply while she steps forward, fingers curling around the rail support as she leans into doug, peeking from over his shoulder. “what the fuck?” it comes out as a laugh—disbelief perhaps—“this a joke?” yeonju presses her free hand into the boy’s back, “move, doug—go.”
yua — "i'm sorry — i didn't mean to." she takes a step back, followed by another, her gaze never leaving junyoung's body at the bottom of the staircase she rubs her eyes when she thinks she sees red. no. that's just the drugs making shit up. "he — he's fine. he has to be." funnily enough, she doesn't want him to be. deep down, she knows he deserved it. but it doesn't stop her voice from quivering and her hands from trembling. after all, she did just push a man to his death. a sorry excuse of a man, but someone nonetheless.
jaein — it's automatic, the need to run down the stairs and check on him— human instinct and nothing more. she doesn't like junyoung, not really, but there's some overwhelming concern in her to check on him. jaein needs to abate her fears. he can't be dead, not really, who the fuck dies at twenty-five? who the fuck gets pushed by a girl half his age and dies? her feet beat hard against concrete stairs and the closer she gets the more she can see the aftermath of it all. his chest isn't moving, his eyes gaze into nothingness, she bets if she touched him there wouldn't be a hint of a pulse. "jesus christ," she kneels closer to him trying to shake the panic that rises in her voice. she looks to the top of the stairs and face mirroring something close to confusion or anger, she's not sure which anymore. "jesus fucking christ, he's not breathing!"
doug — the hand against his back sends shivers straight down his spine and to the ends of his toes and they curl in his sneakers. the ball of his foot lifts off when jaein runs down and he's suddenly two steps behind her. "hyung!" he yells again. not even dead static. with hands splayed out and legs twisted, junyoung's nothing but a dead wishbone. doug wishes he'd come the fuck back up for air. jaein's voice sounds like water in his ears and hands reach out for junyoung's jacket collar even though he's fucking terrified of the picture on the other side. hands shaking violently, he turns junyoung over. his nose is out, that much is for sure. red pools all around his nostrils and mouth, and there's a peculiar glinting lustre about his gray face. the kind of sheen that whispers to doug that they're all hellbound.
“hyung. what the fuck. you’re just playin’ with us, right? that’s what this is. wake the fuck up man. you're just playin. stop fuckin' playin.”
yeonju — of the four she is frozen, heels glued to the floor and dilated pupils fixed on the broken body at bottom of the stairs. wisps of smoke slipping past parted lips. for a long moment, time is slowed, attention stolen by red spilled across skin, the glazed look in his eyes. then, unfreeze. “shit,” she curses, eyes flicking over the entrance of the alleyway, noting the occasional car in passing. “fuck,” yeonju hisses, discarding the cigarette to make her way down, hand gripping onto the railway tightly. “we need to get him inside, now!”
yua — doug turns him around and yua stills. so it wasn't the drugs fucking with her vision. finally, she looks away, gaze now on yeonju who tells them to get him inside. but her feet are planted on the concrete floor, unwilling to follow the older girl's instructions. instead, tears start welling up and she goes into panic mode. "no no no no, this was not supposed to happen." her back faces them now as she remains at the top of the staircase. "god, what the fuck?!"
jaein — there are things in life jaein's never considered— what it feels like to put her hand in a pool of blood, what it feels like to take a dead man in her arms, what it feels like to know she's damned for the rest of eternity. it's only the adrenaline that keeps her going, that convinces her it's a good idea to tug at a corpse and try her best to pull it up with her menial strength. they never tell you what to do in moments like these. schools never teach what should happen if you accidentally murder someone. but the feeling of a dead man's body leaning against hers throws her mind into over gear trying to figure out where to go next, what to do next, how to get out of this fucked up situation. "fucking get down here and help us, yua!" she can feel hot tears cascading down her face and she can hear the way her voice shakes with fear and anger, "it's your mess you should help clean it up."
yua — he deserved it, she tells herself in her head as she paces around, tears rolling down her face. christ, she isn't nearly as high enough for this as she should be. jaein's harsh words snap her out of it and she hastily wipes the tears away with the back of her hands, sniffling a little. "right — i'm sorry." this is her mess. she was the one that pushed him. she was the one that killed him. but that's all they know — aside from doug. and there's so much more behind it than just a mere push that stemmed from a simple argument. she jogs down the stairs, stumbling a little when she makes it down. for some reason, carrying the dead body doesn't bother her as much as it should. not when she already killed the guy. that takes the cake. she hardly feels any regret when she looks at his face. all she can see is that stupid, smug smile seconds before she pushed him.
doug — his head's lost in the gutter and it's sewage all around him. the body's not even a minute in and doug's already warding off thoughts of decomposition as his stomach pumps harder to quell any chance of upchuck. at least now that he's facing up the blood won't drag onto the concrete but having to look at junyoung's face like this isn't doing anyone any favors. after a moment's struggle they break the threshold and junyoung's halfway into the entryway. doug lets yua and jaein drag him the rest of the way in as he scampers towards the back and shuts—locks the door. their breathing is ragged in the quiet that follows. "w-." he starts, pathetically. "is." he tries again. "can." his mouth's parched and his brain's not letting him finish any sentences tonight. doug grits through the haze. "can someone check his pulse or something."
yeonju — she's seen bodies. death by overdose. by being at the wrong place at the wrong time. by carrying the wrong drugs for the wrong people. this shouldn't be any different. yet it is, because she knows him. it is, because the killer, the guilty party—lies with yua. and by association, them. it is because they're involved now, hands covered in blood, hands chilled on a body of waning warmth. fuck. "he's dead, doug." yeonju wishes she could strive for a better way to put it. but as it is, things are already hard to navigate with bone, blood, skin thrumming on a high. but to better satisfy his nerves (not really), yeonju kneels beside the body, fingers pressing into the under of his jaw. nothing. "dead," she repeats, almost spatting while she reaches for the pack of smokes in her pocket. finding it unable to think with her mind on such a high. "why—" her eyes turn to them, brows furrowed. and perhaps it is fucked up, but yeonju is more so worried about the repercussions than the act itself. "why the fuck did you push him?"
doug — dead. the statement hits him like a boulder. two years in the gang and he's always found it funny that the word never crossed his path until this moment. when yeonju sinks her teeth into yua like that—it feels like the boulder's sunken to the bottom of the ocean floor. it's another thud that gets his pulse racing and that's when he remembers: the words leading up to the fall and everything before it. the way so many weeks ago junyoung pinned yua to a corner and pressed a thumb to her cheek like she was prey. why the fuck did you push him. doug's breath hitches. he looks up.
jaein — words sit at the tip of her tongue, a million things jaein's dying to say but no words come out. instead, she's squats looking at junyoung's lifeless body because morbid curiosity won't let her tear her eyes away. bloodied hands sit steeple an pressed against her face. it's all so surreal she can barely process anything that's going on, everything sounds like static and she only makes out select words, "pulse" and "dead" and the tail end of whatever yeonju's saying. only then does jaein look up, eyes focused on yua and her naïve looking face and then her gaze trails back down to junyoung, cold and dead on the floor. "it's not like she was aiming to shove him down a fucking staircase yeonju," jaein snaps, and she's not so sure why. she's just as curious as everyone else and yet there's an urge to defend yua's innocence, something still pure and stable to cling to. "i'm sure we all have our reasons for wanting to shove junyoung, he's a piece of shit."
yua — why the fuck did you push him? yua looks up at yeonju like a deer caught in headlights before immediately looking away. the vivid memory replays in her head again, as it did during the argument, as it did right before she pushed him. "i — i didn't mean to." she mumbles, hugging herself in the corner of junyoung's shitty living room as if that'll make her disappear. that doesn't answer yeonju's question and she's well aware of it. still, even in a moment like this, the truth — the reason sits on her tongue like the pills she had taken earlier, just sitting and waiting to be let out. "but he," sniffling, she looks over at his body. "he deserved it." she meets doug's eyes for a brief moment. "you know he did."
yeonju — take a breath. before you say something wrong. yeonju knows fully well what sits on her twitching tongue, threatening to slip out. her eyes flutter wildly, mouth dry, heart pounding a mile a minute. it is impossible to think like this, she knows, already pulling out a cigarette to replace her last one. in desperate need to for a depressant. "there is a difference," she starts, biting out the words as she lights the smoke, "between fucking up someone who deserves it," her eyes flick over to jaein, narrowing slight. "and completely screwing us over—you know that right?" who they'll report this to—who will handle it at yuripa, yeonju doesn't even want to think about. "i need a fucking drink." she mumbles, pushing herself up. "and we need to get rid of the body."
doug — doug's upper lip bubbles with sweat. the fan in junyoung's apartment winds above their heads and the sirens outside his window blare on like any other day in the life but the look in yua's eyes takes him back to one day in particular that sits heavy in his heart. he looks away. "junyoung's..." another sentence left unfinished but the silence says enough; doug's voice goes deeper, softer, like a scratch on the wall. "it was an accident." he says, to yeonju, to yua, to no one in particular, to junyoung. it sounds like an apology.
yua — yua covers her face with her hands, bloody fingers tightening around her hair. killer is the last thing someone would link back to her. it's the last thing she wants to call herself. yet, here she is. literal blood on her hands, and on her friends' as well. all of them are gonna get shit for this and it's all her fucking fault. she removes her hands from her face and she's back to staring at junyoung's dead body. "no — we shouldn't move the body. we... we need to put him back in the stairwell." her words are frantic as she fights the urge to wipe the blood on her hands onto the wall behind her. "'cos it was an accident."
yeonju — yeonju finds it hard to think, dragging her feet over to the kitchen counter, her hand reaches for the closest plastic cup and downs it in favor of relieving her cottonmouth, inhaling deeply to calm her nerves. vaguely, she hears doug speak, knowing fully well that it was their only option now. "we already moved the body," the frown on her lips deepens, bloodied fingers rubbing into her temple as she turns to face them, eyes flicking from yua to doug to jaein and to the dead body laying on the floor, "listen, everyone at joule saw us together. he," she points at the body for emphasis. "was nowhere near high enough to get into an "accident" — none of us can be tied to this, none."
doug — “—but he took an extra hit.” doug interrupts. “that’s how this whole thing started.”
yua — she's read enough books, seen enough news on this to somehow get an inkling of what they could do to save themselves from this mess. "can't we just... make it look like he was high enough?" in other words, pump his body with enough drugs to make it look like he overdosed. he was nearing that line anyway.
yeonju — "and what? you're going to do it?" shes snappish, rightfully so, lips downturned as she looks around. "fine, we'll shoot him up and throw him down the stairs—and then we'll go home and it'll be like none of this ever happened." she eyes her friends, lips pressed. "i'm serious, tell no one."
doug — "wait—before that." doug kneels down. as if in a trance he takes junyoung's right arm into his hands, guiding junyoung's hand into the pocket of his sweatpants to claw out his phone. it lands onto the floor but doug carefully guides it back up to junyoung's stomach with his deadweight hand. the deadweight hand unlocks the phone with its deadweight thumb. doug stands up with wobbly knees but he fights past the nausea. "you guys... do what you have to do. there's more [omitted] in my backpack if you need it. i'm gonna try somethin'."
yua — yua slowly nods, getting up with weak knees. the tears have stopped coming, because quite frankly, he didn't deserve them. right now, she needs to get her shit together and help the rest of them out. "i'll get some more..." she walks to the kitchen, opening the cabinet beneath the sink and reaching under for the stash she knows he keeps there. with shaky hands, she drops the wrapped bag filled with a variety of drugs beside his body. she averts her gaze when she spots something painfully familiar among the pills. he deserved it.
yeonju — yeonju watches absently, noting the way her fingers shake with mounting irritation as she inhales, lashes fluttering with the nicotine filling her lungs and chest. "try whatever you need to." if it'll actually help. though it's difficult to worry, instead her attention fixates on the lifeless body beside her, eyes flicking over the scattered drugs laid out before them (and resisting the urge to take some herself). "well we can't make him swallow any—" she curls her fingers around a needle, digging through the assortment for a vial, "yua, lift him up."
yua — yua bites her bottom lip, doing as yeonju says and lifting junyoung's body up with a bit more struggle than earlier, stretching out his left arm in the process. it seems that the numbness from the drugs is starting to wear off. instead, an overwhelming sense of dread sets in, more than earlier now that the high slowly leaves her body.
jaein — there's something funny about this. everyone assumes their roles so easily. yeonju leads the pack, doug grabs the drugs, yua preps junyoung. everyone has their equal part in damning them all to hell, and jaein sits by idly all the meanwhile. if it weren't so macabre she might laugh. she's a genius who can't manage to wrap her head around what's gone wrong. when did they all become so well versed in murder and how to get away with it? slowly, she steps forward and kneels down next to yua and junyoung. "well come on now, if we're going to cover up a murder let's at least make it look realistic, huh?" there's a sing-song tone to her voice, as if it's all a game. gone is the shrieking and the fearful undertone, she's calm and steady as she pulls off her belt and tightens it around his cold graying arm, "let's make him look like a real junkie lowlife, that way the cops won't even begin to bother to care."
doug — doug paws off the sweat running down his face with the back of one hand as the other sifts through endless pages of junyoung’s contacts. the characters blur into one another on the screen; the sigh doug lets out is harsh, battered with frustration. the high is still rocking his system. "where the fuck is it, coulda sworn hyung had it in here somewhere." he thinks back to a conversation that'd taken place over a half-squashed cigarette.
“what? whaddya mean?” doug had gawked.
“i mean, they’re gone. they lost the goods, so i made sure they got lost, too.” junyoung returned, waving his phone boastfully. doug had barely caught a glimpse of the name but there it was.
it'd made him shiver then the same way it makes him shiver now even though the rest of his body and the bodies scurrying around him are burning up from anticipation and adrenaline and the drugs.
with one last swipe, he finds the clearing. there it is.
he jots the number down onto his phone, then locks junyoung’s. his feet shuffle back hurriedly to yeonju’s side and he places the phone next to the corpse. "okay," he says, before a sudden realization dawns on him. “fuck,” doug looks at junyoung's phone. "fingerprints, i forgot."
📲 19:59 YUA NUNA » i’ll try to rmb next time!!
📲 19:59 YUA NUNA » nice
📲 19:59 YUA NUNA » be there son
📲 19:59 YUA NUNA » soon
📲 20:06 YUA NUNA » i don’t have extra chicken for ur manager though LOL
📲 20:06 YUA NUNA » and that’s only if i buy something which i wasn’t planning on LOL he’s gonna be annoyed again
[ ✉ — doug 👼] ok see u!!!!
[ ✉ — doug 👼] just dont.... knock over anything like last time
[ ✉ — doug 👼] he got a haircut too so compliment him on that
[ ✉ — doug 👼] it isn’t a nice one but just lie
“baby.” sobriety is ugly. makes things indefinitely difficult for yeonju to function. for one, all things repressed (demons, ghosts, skeletons held at bay) returns with a vengeance. washes up against her thin frame like unrelenting waves threatening to pull her in, have her lost at sea. for two, the sun is brighter, the sounds of girls gabbing is grating. her head is pounding and no abundance of iced americano would service to ease her of this very unfortunate hangover.
not even the smaller girl, whom she’s completely pressed her weight onto, arms hanging off her shoulders, could ease this.
in fact, yua only further spoiled her mood. if anything, she’s the reason why she’s stuck in this fucking bookstore.
“do you have to do this today?” the whine in her tone is evident, chin resting on the girl’s shoulder. something as mundane as returning textbooks can’t be the reason why she’s stayed sober for so long. “can’t we go?” before i lose my goddamn patience?
—tagging @ncyua
yua pays no mind to the girl draped over her, humming along to the song playing in the bookstore as she picks out some books to replace the ones she returned. honestly, she’d prefer to buy the books, but she doesn’t have any space left in her apartment for any more. so maybe, she has mild hoarding tendencies. maybe. but she does reread them and that’s what matters.
“this is one of my few completely free days.” she replies, moving and in turn, dragging yeonju along with her as she heads towards the cashier. the annoyance in her tone doesn’t slide past her, yet it doesn’t faze her either. however, she stops in front of another section when a particular book catches her eye. “i’ll be done soon. five more minutes.”
she reaches up, but her fingertips barely brush the bottom of the book even on her tiptoes. she cranes her neck to look at the taller girl, whose arms are still draped over her shoulders, and smiles. “can you help me grab that book? please?”
[ ✉ — sian 💛 ] gmorning!!!![ ✉ — sian 💛 ] wait are u even up
send “⁇” for a DRUNK text.
[ ✉ — sian 💛 ] o mg omg[ ✉ — sian 💛 ] u’ll nEVER Believe this[ ✉ — sian 💛 ] o fuck[ ✉ — sian 💛 ] i forog thw at i was goi ng to say
send “#” for a RANDOM text.
[ ✉ — sian 💛 ] i want a mcflurry 😧
send “@” for a SCARED text.
[ ✉ — sian 💛 ] i thought i was talking to the manager[ ✉ — sian 💛 ] turns out the boss was behind me instead[ ✉ — sian 💛 ] she really did not appreciate my joke[ ✉ — sian 💛 ] i’ll see u in hell 💀
send “&” for a LOVING text.
[ ✉ — sian 💛 ] image attached.
send “%” for a CURIOUS text.
[ ✉ — sian 💛 ] u should... teach me how to hack[ ✉ — sian 💛 ] 🤓🤓🤓
send “$” for an ACCIDENTAL text.
[ ✉ — sian 💛 ] i didnt tell anyone i swear[ ✉ — sian 💛 ] ha... didnt tell anyone that you cried when we watched that movie a few days ago[ ✉ — sian 💛 ] haha
[ ✉ — sena’s dad ] boss man made me close up so i’ll be a lil late[ ✉ — sena’s dad ] T^T so sorry!!!!!!!!!!
send “#” for a RANDOM text.
[ ✉ — sena’s dad ] mr kim[ ✉ — sena’s dad ] why is your daughter so cute[ ✉ — sena’s dad ] she must get it from her mum
send “ツ” for an EXCITED text.
[ ✉ — sena’s dad ] image attached.[ ✉ — sena’s dad ] sena and i painted today!! 😊[ ✉ — sena’s dad ] i swear that isn’t pink paint on the white wall.......
Send “✆” for a MORNING text.
Send “✉” for a text that WASN’T SENT.
Send “☎” for a RUSHED text.
Send “⁇” for a DRUNK text.
Send “✿” for a SUGGESTIVE text.
Send “ø” for a LATE NIGHT text.
Send “✘” for a HATEFUL text.
Send “#” for a RANDOM text.
Send “@” for a SCARED text.
Send “&” for a LOVING text.
Send “%” for a CURIOUS text.
Send “ツ” for an EXCITED text.
Send “$” for an ACCIDENTAL text.
Send “♀” for a HEARTBREAKING text.
“you’ve got an hour kang.” and an hour is all he takes—
tentatively speaking.
with nearly four years under his belt, reform should come easily, repentance with a healthy dollop of guilt, regret, whatever act of good conscience required. but the only leaves that turn at all are the ones that make up the canopy above the bench, spring green to a wildfire blush. his hands are empty save for the cream popsicle that he’s melted down to the half point.
wonil’s eyes flit over to the bag. and indeed, she is right.
“huh.”
he looks like he’s about to add to that, the spinning of yet another story (and in fact there is: a valentino bloomy tote in black that he’d swiped from the walk-in closet of a dancer; stolen property turned a last minute birthday gift to an unsuspecting girlfriend). instead, wonil only clears his throat and looks to his left.
“rolex at nine o’ clock. in rose gold too.” they lapse into silence again. he turns to watch the second woman walk through the clearing. “whaddya say?” it almost sounds like he’s posing a challenge. “worth the gamble?”
her eyes are fixed on the rose gold rolex around another woman’s wrist. from what she can see, it does seem worth the effort to swipe it off her wrist. rather than answering his question, she gets up, taking another bite from her melona bar as she heads towards the woman with every intention to charm and distract her.
she really shouldn’t be enabling him.
but it’s become somewhat of a routine for them. a routine that hasn’t gotten them caught. yet.
with a sweet smile plastered on her face, she jogs up to the lady, stopping in front of her. “ah, sorry to bother you. but do you know —” she stops herself, feigning surprise in her expression. then she breaks out into a grin. “gosh, i love your dress! where did you get it from? if you don’t mind sharing, of course.”
the woman returns her smile, telling yua of how she got her dress in a boutique somewhere in france and with a few more prompts, delves into the story of that trip specifically. yua meets wonil’s gaze, the corner of her lips upturned for just the slightest moment before she lets out a laugh at a turning point in the woman’s story. she’s far too deep into the story to notice her vulnerable rolex on her wrist now.
evidently, he is not all knowing. not that jude hasn’t kept up with efforts to be in the know in regards to his little sister’s life. his responsibility, his remaining kin—blood or otherwise. but there are things that slip between his fingers, responsibilities that pile up, higher and higher till he ceases to focus on even himself. and in those moments, usually, when his watchful eye is kept off yua (and everything else he cares for)—it’s when things go to shit.
he doesn’t notice the door opening, attention halved between the pot of noodles cooking before him and the phone in his hand. far be it to be too out of character for him to not be glued to his device, between phone calls, work emails, and texts from his girlfriend—majority of jude’s life is found shoved into a tiny device fitted into his palm. even on his nights off.
“mm?” but yua’s voice is hard to forget, perhaps he is wired to pick up on it—the quiver in her voice, the way his name slips off her tongue. “what?” he speaks, tinged with the slightest of annoyance. a couple steps towards the doorway allows him to peek out of the kitchen, brow arched in expectation.
“you’re not pregnant, are you?”
god, yeonju is so going to have her head for this. that is, if she finds out — which, yua’s certain she will eventually. then again, it’s either she tells someone she totally trusts about what happened, or she ends up blurting it out to a random customer at the convenience store when she just cannot hold it in any longer. so really, things could be worse.
at his question, her eye twitches.
“of course not. geez.” she scowls, as if that is worse than the blood on her hands. she follows his voice and walks into the kitchen, headed right for the fridge to get some cold water for herself. it’s a miracle that she doesn’t drop the pitcher given how shaky her hands are. it’s almost like she’s taken something again, but she isn’t foolish enough to do that before visiting her brother. that can wait for after the confession.
she takes a sip from her glass, leaning against the counter. “so, uh,” how exactly does one tell their brother that they’ve committed murder? she takes another long sip. “i’ve done something bad. like, really bad.”
📲 19:57 YUA NUNA » hey quit it with the curfew jokes
📲 19:57 YUA NUNA » i’m a free man
📲 19:57 YUA NUNA » yea i rmber but u usually get off around this time
📲 19:58 YUA NUNA » forget what job tho which one are u working today?
📲 19:58 YUA NUNA » if ur working the cafe i’m pretty close by!!
[ ✉ — doug 👼] of course u are
[ ✉ — doug 👼] i’m at the cafe today!!!!
[ ✉ — doug 👼] convenience store mondays and tuesdays, karaoke wednesdays and cafe thursdays and fridays rmb???
[ ✉ — doug 👼] come keep me company the business is dead
[ ✉ — doug 👼] my manager will appreciate it too
📲 19:54 YUA NUNA » yo!! u still working the night shift tonite
📲 19:54 YUA NUNA » biz iz slow over here i think my boss is letting me off early
[ ✉ — doug 👼] isn’t it past ur bedtime
[ ✉ — doug 👼] but yeah :(( still stuck here for another 30 mins
[ ✉ — doug 👼] not that its busy but... gotta make that $$$
jaewon scoffs at her messages and looks at her through the glass with a disapproving look. perhaps its the years of constant back and forth between the two that it was bound that one of them was going to run dry first. he lets the warmth and the smell of fresh brewed coffee hug his entire body as he enters and finds his way towards one of the tables near her location.
“that was pretty weak response. it seems i have stayed away from you for far too long.” he chimes, sitting down and watching her idly. for the past few months, it had been difficult to catch up. they were able to communicate through texts, but it’s not enough with a dynamic like theirs. they were almost like an old married couple, fighting all the time but it’s just love.
“are you sure you’re going to be okay with me being here? it seems like we caught some attention.” he motions over to a co-worker of hers who simply looked over, maybe because he just sat down without ordering. the one thing he dreaded and now he will be kicked out if yua here doesn’t hurry up. “my time is precious, yua.” he pressures jokingly, leaning on the table, his eyes still on her.
the smile that appears on her face isn’t entirely forced; yua could use the company, even if it would be difficult to lie around him. a laugh even slips out because he’s right. it was a pretty half-assed response on her end and evidently, it didn’t just slide past jaewon like she had hoped. she can’t even come up with a typical teasing reply to that.
instead, she wipes down the counter real quick, shrugging at him. “it’ll be fine.” she undoes her apron, going to the backroom to hang it up and grab her bag, fixing her hair a little as she walks back out. “maybe they’re looking because of that.” she scrunches up her nose as she gestures at his face, then breaks into a grin.
“c’mon, let’s go. can’t waste your precious time, now can we?” she mocks teasingly, putting on her jacket and heading out into the cold, the sun already in the middle of setting when she steps out. this is good, she reassures herself. it’s already taking her mind off that morning, and hopefully, it’ll stay that way for the rest of the night. “now, let’s get some good food. cafe sandwiches are actually rabbit food.”
— @ncyua / outside of the cafe . fall 2048 . 5:00 pm
‘visit me whenever.’ perhaps she didn’t mean it, perhaps she did, but ever since she opened the door for him into her life, he dropped by whenever he wanted since then. he was never unwelcome, however. sure enough yua and jaewon worked well together. they rarely fought and if they did, it is usually a play-fight because jaewon could be an idiot at times. they worked together for a few years and somehow had gotten the opportunity to stay friends since then.
[ ✉ ➟ 유-아잉! ] hey, you’re almost out??
[ ✉ ➟ 유-아잉! ] i’m waiting outside.
[ ✉ ➟ 유-아잉! ] or should i go in and ask for you so you can flaunt that a handsome guy is waiting for you?
he leans on the cafe’s walls and stuffs his hands inside his pocket along with his phone. it’s chilly out and already the sun is setting. he looks at his phone occasionally, waiting for a response and hopefully to see her come out soon. he could simply go inside and wait for her, but he doesn’t want to go in without buying anything. plus, it was 5pm and it’s the time she mentioned she was going to be out before.
yua likes working. now more than ever. she needs the distraction of shitty customers and rush hours to get her mind off what happened a few days ago. but it also makes way for recklessness and when her phone pings in her pocket, she’s holding a cold, damp towel to a fresh burn on her wrist from cleaning the coffee machine. maybe the karma is being delivered to her in tiny packages.
[ ✉ — jaewonnie 🤠] got into a lil mess but i’ll be out soon
[ ✉ — jaewonnie 🤠] come inside, it’s cold outside
[ ✉ — jaewonnie 🤠] or don’t. i don’t want my coworkers to see your yucky face.
it’s a harmless jab, as how it usually is between the pair. once again, their planned meeting serves as another distraction for yua. though, she isn’t sure if she can maintain the act of normalcy — especially in front of jaewon. which is ironic, considering everything he knows about her past is a lie and she’s had no trouble maintaining that lie.
but the circumstances are a little different in this case. so yua runs her wrist under some cold water again, before patting it dry as she waits for her friend to come in.
it’s safe to say that she hasn’t gotten much sleep since the incident happened. concealer can only do so much to hide the dark circles under her eyes, nor does she really have the will to put in effort the hide them. the events of that night are still a blur to the girl, but the memory of the morning after is something burned into her mind.
and this time, she doesn’t have a god to repent to.
she can only keep it to herself for so long before it demands to be let out. that’s how she finds herself standing in front of her brother’s apartment, hand frozen over the doorbell. her other hand fidgets in her pocket, thumb digging a crescent into her palm. maybe she should find someone else to confide in — no, he’s the only one she can trust to keep this a secret.
but she doesn’t press the doorbell. instead, she tries her luck with the doorknob, pursing her lips when it opens. “dumbass...” she mutters, shutting and locking the door behind her before taking off her shoes. “jude! you left the door unlocked!” there’s a slight quiver in her voice that she can’t hide when she calls out for him. she drapes her jacket over one of the chairs by the dining table. “there’s something important i need to tell you!”
the cool breeze caressing her skin reminds her that autumn has finally arrived and she tugs her cardigan tighter around her frame, doe eyes scanning the people walking around them. the cold doesn’t stop her from eating a melona bar though.
she points the ice cream bar in the direction of a woman with a luxury bag just a few metres away from where the pair is sitting. a knock-off bag. she figures it’s become some sort of talent now, spotting fakes and authentics.
“fake valentino spotted.”
there must be some humour in lounging in a park, shaming people for their knock-off luxury items while eating ice cream with a convict. and his supposed ‘bodyguard’, who she assumes is somewhere nearby.
yua turns her head so that she’s looking at him and takes a bite from the melona bar ( no, she doesn’t have the patience to lick ). “the colour is off and the chain used is so obviously wrong.” she says, as if she needs to prove her point. she knows she’s right.
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