to @belleoumoi (this self-para was 4-years in the making. time only allows you to write about things conditionally; the distant the memory the riper it seems.) (t.w: illicit substance abuse, drug use)
001. the prologue
2021 — seoul, rok.
jianwei's presence in a foreign land was exacted and willed upon his father's insistence to enter the tight gap of south korea's pharmaceutical and medical market. with his transcripts submitted, and a doctorate position secured in one of the nation's most prestigious institutions, jian agreed to raise roots once more.
there was not a choice in jianwei's life uninfluenced by the undercurrents of his father's ambitions. his father's kitchen sink approach in progressing a unified east asian conglomerate meant utilising his only son as an accessory - to build jianwei up as a hyper-scholar fortified with field experience.
it worked, as jianwei developed a calculating and sharp sense when it came to business.
however, such a stifled way to rear a child caused an opposite reaction, or perhaps a parallel reflection to the larger image itself, in which jianwei, himself, ran his own drug-ring in every university he matriculates in. jianwei successfully distributed as far as MDMA analogues to the privileged or misguided, cognitive enhancers to the try-hards and gunners, and even counterfeit prescriptions to those crafty enough to get a hold of his higher services. growing underwhelmed by the tedium of his campus affairs, a repeat of his undergraduate challenges and masteral degree's proficencies, he decided to distribute outside of his usual setting — aiming for clubs and raves in hongdae, his contact reaching desperate or desolated wives and mothers from gangnam.
jianwei's objectives, by definitive means or another, was done.
002. the aberrant
jianwei required neither the money nor the noteriety that came with his ventures, just the satisfaction of doing a stellar job; his own high came from realising the delicate equilibrium between his supply and the overgrowing demand. his well-titrated experiment came to an oversaturation upon meeting a handsome face, she was strapping with rugged edges; rowan was equal parts striking and an inviting person to exploit. it was rather heady, at times, getting to know her - if he was introspective enough to untangle it, he would realise that laced in with the bubbling curiosity he held for her was his own identity being mirrored back. rowan's own brand of sorrow, subdued by jianwei's supply, was a strand he had himself... something reserved only for those who have tasted deep pain.
so a mutually parasitic symbiosis between jian and rowan jumpstarts. he knew what to give, when to give it, and in return he is offered a few good chats. he has never seen them sober, but perhaps in his line of work sobriety was rarer than the brains he admires on rowan.
the cooperative alliance came, however, to a grinding halt when his regard for the individual outweighed jian's need for an ego stroke. rowan came to him more and more for illicit substances, staying a minute less and less to chat each time. then came the undeniable toxidromes: initially, some restlessness and inability to stay still while waiting for his dispense, then the yawning and sudden onset of irritability. this downward spiral continued until it finally registered that she has become a fucking addict. in jianwei's line of work, there were recreational users and addicts, though the latter provided a stronger source of patronage it was labile and jianwei hated nothing more than dealing with such scums of the earth.
but he did not hate rowan, he just simply couldn't. so what must he do? — the feelings he had for her were ineffable, sourced from a deep, intrinsic sense of care.
he knew one thing: with any business, some semblance of ethics must be applied. first, he scoped her drug behaviours through piecemeal statements, "starting to get jealous you'll see someone else but me for these." he scoffed, a mini-baggie with fine crystalloids taped along a bag of clean needles pinched between his index and middle fingers. the next time, jianwei with his head tilted and gaze fixed on rowan, sensing her urgency and distress, but not one caused by the lack of the drug, "...this is the second time you've come to me with a scowl on your face like that." he comments, nothing the catalysts for her usage.
then, bit by bit he placed placebos on her orders, decreasing potency and dosage, whilst ensuring she has access to approrpriate, sanitised tools. "no drinking with this... not before or after." he instructs, lifting the baggie away from rowan herself. "promise me."
"why?" she asked.
"just a new formula i've been working on... don't fuck it up for yourself, because i'll know." he retorts.
this gradual, one-sided plan to taper her off continued, and as it reached its last phase she contacts him... all of jianwei's intricate work sabotaged — she was high to say the least; her pupils so small they were non-existent, she was bradycypneic... and still she wanted more. the question of how and by whom she got there jianwwei dared not entertain...
it was heartbreaking, staring at her.
the line between himself and her completely delineated in his mind - who was he more pitiful towards? the fucking busted addict in front of him, or the poor boy who simply wanted to save a one-sided friendship?
so jian placed a moratorium on her, a complete cut both from his services and his life. all he knows is avoidance when threatened in the matters of the heart.
this is no different.
for once, he just wishes, this were all done.
003. the healing
jianwei saw how life got good for rowan.
there was nothing in this world more satisfying than the bloom of colour and healthy sheen on her face.
though back on her two feet, the probabilities of her relapsing was likely - an occuring stage in every recovering addict's progression to remission. the thought gutted him to no ends, but was relieved by the fact that she now has community in people who were earnest, salt of the earth. he's met one of them vividly during his time as a physiology teaching assistant, a medical student, oozing of diligence and light.
those were the people rowan needed in her life, jian thought, appended by though i hope they'll still want me in theirs.
rowan's healing embodied the inception of jian's desire for a community of his own... a life that is his.
during a night of vulnerable talks over fizzy drinks and ramen, he onced joked to rowan that, perhaps if he repented enough, he would be offered a blank slate by fate.
to some extent... it was done.
003. the epilogue
jianwei's ventures continued, now veering off drug dealing and into larger, more darker schemes. at one point, he was nicked for his involvement with a club used as a front by his so-called friends for money laundering, accidentally stepping a bit too far and finding himself at odds with his father's growing territory in seoul.
out of fear that jian has grown wayward and blind to the cause, and to extirpate any challenges to the korean expansion, he returns to shanghai as ordered by his father... uprooted, only this time against jian's wishes and better judgement. with no contact or trace left, wang jianwei left only his academic record in seoul, korea.
a blank slate.
he thinks to himself, on a private charter on course for home, that this chapter of his life is not yet done.
