It's the first day of spring—or some shit like that. Maybe not technically but the first day the sun's rays are actually noticeably emitting heat. Jeongguk's taken advantage of the weather conditions by wearing shorts, a loose, sleeveless shirt and lugging out his old skateboard. He hasn't actually been outside with it since last summer. It's been too damp and cold in Korea and he didn't want to risk the bearings of his skateboard rusting over. If he's buying (and he deems it worth it), he's not gonna go cheap. He'll have the best of the best.
The sound of his wheels rolling against the pavement and the wind whisping past his ears is somewhat satisfying to the boy—it's consistency. His eyes are narrowed into thin slits as a measure to not take too much of the sun into his eyes and burn his corneas, backpack hanging over his shoulders. He's on his way back from studying at school. He left a few hours earlier than most kids—them choosing to stay just before night falls or even after. Jeongguk on the other hand, couldn't wait for the warm weather. No way he's waiting until dusk falls and he freezes his ass off, goosebumps prickling his skin likes spikes against a——I don't know. Something.
Everything's fine, I guess. Everything's good. The only thing he'd change is possibly having his headphones around his neck, lyrics infiltrating his mind as well as the world around him. He didn't want to risk falling and smashing his expensive headphones, though, so he's going to stick with the natural sounds of his environment.
Yeah, everything's good until he feels an abrupt, brute force against the back of his legs and he's sent flying off his skateboard. The skateboard abandons him faster than the vehicle does the scene of the accident, only to be brutally crushed by it's wheels. Pain and anger—that's all he's able to feel during his fleeting moments of consciousness. He's curled up against the curb, his calves aching a horrible, dull ache, skin torn off his knees and shedding blood everywhere. Thank god he didn't smash his skull right open upon his body's sudden collision with the sidewalk. He somehow managed to almost break his fall with his hands, resulting in the skin of his palms being all bloodied up as well.
He thought taking the long way through a smaller community would be beneficial. You know, having not as much traffic, stop lights—other people. If anything, these factors ended up working against him. Now he's alone, and those who do drive by don't pay any attention. He's just another kid being a nuisance. His knees sting so fucking bad. He lifts a trembling hand to graze one of his open wounds with his finger tip. It's not the best idea he's ever had.
Fucking great is the last thing he thinks before his splotchy vision fully clouds over with blackness.
