#yhdau

[yhyeol]

when his manager said to “wear some boots”, he should’ve specified working boots, and not just any boots. then again, it wouldn’t have mattered anyway — these valentinos were all he had. it was either these or the balenciaga lace-ups chucked somewhere in the mess of his apartment, a mess he hasn’t had the mental capacity to deal with just yet. either way, nothing in his six trunks full of designer clothing were made for the farm. correction: nothing about him was made for the farm. just how exactly was he going to survive the weekend?

a scowl paints his face as he attempts to shake some mud off the sole of his boots, then stopping in his tracks when he realises it would make absolutely no difference with the muddy path ahead of him, leading right up to hanwoo dream ranch. as if moving to a small town down south wasn’t already bad enough, yeol’s manager thought it would be “good for him” to “get some fresh air” at a farm on the outskirts of town. said something stupid about how “surrounding himself with nature could help clear his mind”. what yeol really needs to clear his mind is a good bottle of whiskey and maybe a ride home to seoul? but no, his manager thought a weekend at a ranch would do him wonders. great, just great.

trudging towards his designated location, yeol battles the urge to turn and leave before anyone sees him. it was unlike him to be this compliant to his company’s orders — it was always his way or the highway. this time though, things were a little different. a part of him feels obligated to do as he was told, partly out of guilt for all the mess he’s created and left behind. surely, he can deal with a weekend of farmstay, right? besides, as embarrassing as it sounds, he’s never actually been to a farm, or a ranch, and he won’t deny that an ounce of curiosity was bubbling inside him, fuelled by his mind full of unanswered questions and unproven expectations stemming from an incomplete childhood of countless excursions he never got to attend. 

he was told to look out for a boy his age. dau, they said? his gaze darts across the open fields, landing on a rustic farmhouse in the distance. hugging his duffel bag a little closer to him, he rolls up the front porch and rings the doorbell to make his arrival known. after a short wait, the door flings open and he finds a friendly face behind it. “hi, I’m looking for dau.”

for @yhdau

[hanabilatte]

drunk and not alone | closed starter 01. dau & daewon 02. location: the beach 03. tw/cw: drinking, implications of drunk driving

·˚                    (   *   & .  Family was a tough pill to swallow, especially when it consisted of big and brave superhero lawyers, or whatever the hell he used to call them when he was a child. If only the younger him could see his alienation now. The television that afternoon had been tuned onto a news channel, against his better judgement. It was none other than his mother on that screen. Another national court case. The details of the case sounded like static to his brain, his only focus being that she defended another murderer. He knew he shouldn’t hold it against them. It was their job. But why? It always felt uncomfortable to him that talented lawyers could help obvious murders get lesser sentences than they deserved or even walking free. Regardless, this nonsense was making his chest heavy and the room was starting to feel stuffy. He needed to leave.

That afternoon Daewon drove the Highlander with several bottles of booze out and wherever he could go to… that being the beach. He sat there reclined in the driver’s seat and drank soju like out of a baby’s bottle, wanting to erase all of what he saw on tv that day. Especially at the part with the interview that included his mother and denying her son’s existence to begin with. *Not that he could blame her*. He was the son that got kicked out of Seoul National University School of Law. All he was, was shameful in their eyes.

Bottles collected at the foot of the passenger’s seat and everything gradually became fuzzy. He honestly didn’t have a plan when he drove out without telling his housemate, without a designated driver cause he sure in hell was in no condition to drive home. Not until he sobered up a bit. Maybe Daesun will be done with work by the time he was ready to leave. In the meantime, a walk on the beach may be able to help him out there. Hopefully.

Fumbling, Daewon kicked the door of his car open and stumbled out, probably dropping his keys in the process somewhere. Hell if he knew. It was hard to tell what was up and what was down at that point. Still, he waddled towards the sand in some sort of a daze. He failed to realize just how cold it was getting as night started to fall from all the alcohol in his system. He’d really feel this in the morning.

Daewon didn’t know how long he walked around, mumbling a bunch of incoherent curses and kicking sand around. A weird weightless feeling was starting to settle in. His mind was foggy and he could barely see out of his eyes. If anything, they were starting to get heavy and he wanted to go home and sleep. It was probably a good idea, considering he had work in the morning. In his head, it’s time to head home even if he couldn’t keep his lids open. The distance probably wasn’t that long anyway.

The drunkard pats around his pockets to try and find his keys, groaning when he isn’t able to find them. “Jesus fucking Christ.” he moans, stumbling to his knees to feel around the sand in case he dropped them somewhere. With the tides getting even higher, he could only hope his keys didn’t get washed away cause in his head, they were around somewhere.

@yhdau