AN: Here's another chapter. One day, they'll be longer.
Namjoon's perspective:
"Can I sit here?" I asked.
"…do as you please."
"Look, I know I am intruding."
"You're not intruding. But you are still talking."
"Right."
"I was going to bed. And now I am not. Do you know why?"
"I said I am sorry... but, I still, can't help but ask, if you have anything?"
"You still haven't had enough?"
"I just need to sleep." I breathed out the words but once I inhaled, I kept my breath in wait for his reply.
"What you want is to pass out."
"No. Yes. I don't know. I just can't go back. And I can't stop thinking about it either…"
"And how do you think that person feels?"
"Who?"
"The one you fucked over."
"Well, probably the same as I am feeling."
"And you were together where? At a party?"
Arms crossed. Black eyes squinted.
"And that person can't get their hands on anything? They will make it until tomorrow?"
"You don't even know who I was with or what happened."
"True. I do not. But I know you. And I know you hang out with junkies and they can either be strangers or your supposed brother. And if you did something to them and they want to forget about it…"
"That's not..."
"Guess what."
He stepped closer.
"He wouldn't."
"When you hang around dying people, and you also fuck up like I know you tend to fuck up, then they will go overboard. And neither of you might make it."
"There was no heroin. I told you, there was no…"
"What did you take, Namjoon?"
"I don't know! A pill, vodka, and something bitter, a powder…will you stop pressing me already? I am not relapsing."
One more step toward me.
"I told you I can't have a dead body in my house. I told you I also can't have my guy be seen with users. When they start asking who they bought the stuff from, what the hell are you going to say?"
"That I don't know!"
"Have you looked at yourself in the mirror?"
"No, why are you even asking me this now?!"
"You haven't blinked in more than a minute."
I scoffed. He went on:
"You come here after midnight and tell me you need my help. And I am giving it to you. Go back, and make sure everyone's breathing. And if they are, you can come back. If they aren't, you better find the hidden actor in you and make sure I don't have to shoot you."
"…why are you so pissed anyway?"
"I am pissed because you promised me something. And yet, here we are again."
"And I told you I am taking care of those around me!"
"You are not doing it right now? Are you?!"
"I will go back then. I will go back and check. Happy?"
A raised eyebrow, a step back.
"In ecstasy."
"You know what Min-Su? You really are a shitty friend."
"You'll be thanking me tomorrow."
"I doubt it."
I slammed the door and walked out, mumbling under my breath.
'Paranoid insomniac. You never care about how I am doing, but it's always the others, others…What if I die?'
I looked up at the cold sky, mouthing: "But I doubt I'll go first."
I closed my eyes.
Lowered my head.
Opened an eye at a time and tried to concentrate on the street as much as I could.
'Focus.'
But no matter how much I'd blink; the streetlights would still be blurry. The light they emitted; round glowing bulbs that were meant to make me blind.
My phone was a heavy rock in my hand. And I could barely keep standing by the time the yellow car made it there.
"Good evening."
'Back straight. Arms by the side. And talk coherently.'
"Good evening."
"I'd like to go to the street…"
'He might've already left.'
The man turned up the radio and I let my head sink back into the chair. They closed; my eyes just closed on their own. And suddenly, I could feel my soul slipping out. Hovering behind the moving car. As if it was made out of dust particles, detaching themselves from this body.
'I'm getting dizzy.'
'Open your eyes.'
But keeping them open was hard.
I could see for a second. But the next second would be nothing but a black screen in front of my eyes.
'Black. Night street. Black. Street lamps. Black. Shit.'
'Maybe I'll really die this time.'
'After being sober for so long…'
'What was I thinking?'
'It didn't even work!'
'It still hurts.'
'It hurts too much.'
'Go back there, he said…'
'But how do I do that?'
'How do I face anyone ever again?'
'I just wish this car ride would last forever.'
'I wish time would just…stop.'
'Does wishing that mean I'll really die?'
'But I can still see glimpses of the real world.'
'Whatever that means.'
'But I am scared that the black screen of nothingness will win over.'
'And then I can't apologize.'
'Can't start over.'
'What should I do?'
'What can I say?'
'What will erase everything?'
'I truly don't think there's such a thing.'
'But I wish there was.'
'Just so I wouldn't be afraid of losing everyone all the time.'
'I could finally be free.'
"We've arrived."
'But if I can't erase everything…the second-best thing is….'
'Leaving you alone.'
'But I know how it feels to be alone.'
'And it's worse than death.'
'I have to move.'
'And never put myself in danger again.'
'Not like this.'
'I don't want my last day to happen while listening to this annoying, repetitive song.'
"Is this the right place?"
'So, then move!'
'And what do I do when I see him?'
'Apologize.'
'For being honest?'
'For being alive.'
'Yeah.'
'That feels right.'
"Thank you."
My hand was heavy going into my pocket. I could barely feel my fingers.
And whenever I'd blink, the darkness would swallow me whole for a moment. A moment too long that'd cause me to feel dizzy.
I got up but I didn't feel it yet. Not until I was standing on the grey pavement.
The house still had people in and outside of it.
The music was louder than the radio in the taxi.
But it was slapping me.
The lights and the sounds, they kept hitting me right in the middle of the forehead with their intensity.
Walking.
I was walking.
On the grass. On the tile. On the wood floor.
And I didn't dare look up.
I couldn't.
I shouldn't.
'Where are you?'
It smelled like something.
But I couldn't pinpoint what during the short breaths that I pushed through.
'I'll faint. This is it. I will faint.'
'Water helps. Remember?'
'When was the last time you had water?'
'That might not work. I can't walk anymore.'
'Sit down.'
There was a chair on the right side of the room.
I fell into it more than I sat on it.
My head hanging low.
And I couldn't even care about who might be seeing.
I dug my fingers into my hair and tried to make myself get up.
'Can't sleep now. Not now.'
'Get up.'
'You don't have time for this.'
'Kitchen. There was a kitchen.'
Checking the perimeter always had its perks.
I don't know when he started doing it on his own after I suggested it a couple of times.
Now, I understood why he also found this trick helpful.
I sprung up and mechanically walked by people.
Moving through the mental map, without really seeing the actual walls or the people.
Just obstacles.
After I turned two corners, I made it into the open kitchen that was buzzing with girls.
Laughing.
Probably gossiping.
Whatever was so funny, it kept being funny.
I opened the fridge like it was my house.
And hoped they wouldn't care.
Or notice, that I was sweating bullets.
I was looking at a bottle with clean liquid and another one with blue liquid.
'What the hell is the blue one?'
'Drink it.'
'Don't drink it.'
Their mocking laughter made me move my hand first and think second.
It was so loud.
I couldn't hear my own thoughts.
I felt embarrassed all of a sudden and while I was walking away, being pierced by their melodic, yet straight tones, I took a sip of the liquid.
Promising myself I will not sit down until I'll find him.
It was a deal.
I went straight into the bathroom.
I didn't knock.
But I found a girl vomiting into the toilet while a guy was holding her hair up. Holding a bottle of water.
'Water. Can I have…No.'
I shut the door before the guy had the chance to look up.
I went all over the first floor twice.
Then headed upstairs.
Tried to head upstairs.
But after one step, gravity was pulling me backward.
I held onto the railway for dear life.
It might not have looked that way.
I tried not to make it look like that.
But I had no way of knowing if I was doing a good job.
One foot in front of the other. Lifting a million kilograms at once. Looking up at the ceiling lamp, casting shadows on the stairs.
The moving shadows.
'Fuck.'
'It's not real.'
'Remember, nothing is real.'
'What is real?'
'The wall. The ground.'
'That's it?'
'That's it.'
I made it up but I could feel my body tilting to the side.
First door.
Empty bedroom.
Second door.
Cleaning closet.
Third door.
A baby's room.
'A baby's room?'
I found myself staring at it.
Like someone who's looking at a painting.
The half-empty bottles by the crib.
The stains on the carpet.
The dust on the desk.
The stale air.
'Whose house is this?'
I shut the door because I couldn't bear looking at it any longer.
Upstairs was dead.
Downstairs was aflame with people.
'Why?'
I walked down the stairs.
Almost fell down the stairs.
And then, I drank some more.
Looked around.
And waited.
Then went outside.
Where it was much colder.
The drunks looked drunker.
The shadows trembled with the wind.
And I was certain I should keep moving.
But I also decided to pull out my phone and call instead of hoping I could possibly find him this way.
"Kim Taehyung."
"Yes…that is I."
"Where are you?"
"Home."
"…what?"
"I am already home."
"With Jungkook?"
"I put him in a taxi. He's probably home by now."
"Ok. But did he…"
And he hung up.
'The prick hung up on me.'
I was trying to order myself another taxi when I couldn't decide where I should go.
'Home? To see if he's fine? But then I'd have to face him. And then I probably shouldn't leave again…'
'Maybe I should just call him?'
'But what if he's asleep?'
'Then I can avoid it.'
'Apologizing?'
'We'll do that tomorrow. It's still early.'
'You'll fall asleep in a minute.'
'The taxi is almost here.'
'Go back to Min-Su?'
'And say what?'
'Let me stay up with you?'
I was moving.
I don't know when I decided I should start moving.
But the moving target on the phone caused me to almost hit someone a bit too hard.
"Hey…!"
"Sorry."
I was outside after I blinked.
I blinked and the memories before I got to the spot I was standing in, they were gone.
Never to be retrieved, forever.
I walked around for a bit and then hopped into the taxi as a fish jumped back into the water.
I couldn't find the energy to speak.
My mouth was too dry.
My body was too tired.
I was expecting him to say anything.
But instead, he just started driving.
And a ping on my phone almost made me have a heart attack.
'The car ride started. Going to the address…Oh, I already wrote the address.'
I didn't know how I was feeling or what I was supposed to be feeling.
There was no lesser evil.
Both were bad, impossible decisions.
I almost fell asleep.
But keeping my eyes closed made me feel sick. So, I had to lift my head.
I tried looking outside.
Keeping my eyes open.
And before I could remember a thing, we were there. And I've been leaning on the door the whole time.
I paid him.
And I was officially out of cash.
I simply let my body move on the familiar path.
And I was slowly turning the keys into the keyhole.
Trying to be as quiet as possible.
But every sound the door made, had me keeping still for a moment. Expecting some sort of punishment from his parents, himself, or the universe at large.
I walked in and decided not to lock it back up.
I went up the stairs and as soon as I somehow made it up without any struggle, I thought I was dumb because I didn't check downstairs first.
But I was already there and I was not going down and up again for nothing.
Therefore, I ended up standing in front of his door.
Wondering if I should knock.
Wondering if he's even awake.
A part of me wanted to speak about it.
A part of me had no idea what was the right thing to say.
What was the truth of it all?
I was confused as well.
But I also couldn't be feeling what I was feeling.
Wanting what I was wanting.
'Maybe one day I'll be able to stop.'
'That's the only promise I can make.'
'Yes. Tell him that.'
I went in without knocking and opened my mouth to talk.
Only to shut it.
Jungkook's dark hair was sprawled over the white pillow.
Slow breaths erupted out of him while his chest raised and fell over the mattress.
And I was a bit sad to see him sleeping.
Relieved too.
Selfishly hoping we could've talked while I still could feel the urgency of being honest.
And at the same time, I truly didn't know what I could even guarantee that'd make him let me be his brother again.
I slowly walked over and sat down on his bed.
Ran my fingers through the back of his head.
Thinking: 'Maybe I should let you decide what my fate will be.'
'Whatever you decide, I'll try to abide by it.'
'If you want me to leave, I will leave. If you want me to stay, I will be whatever version you want me to be.'
I was thinking that but I was leaning down to smell his shampoo.
'Is what I wish I could say.'
'But it hurts too much.'
'And I am hurting you too.'
'…'
Long eyelashes were casting tiny shadows on his cheek.
A blue blanket up to his chest.
'I will feel sorry… whichever one you'll choose.'
I was blinking slowly. His pale skin kept getting replaced with endless darkness. And I almost laid down next to him. Almost convinced myself it was fine to fall asleep beside him.
But then I remembered I would've sobered up if I were to fall asleep.
I got to the door in a heartbeat, and as I was closing the door, the empty canvas on the easel was facing me.
I held onto the wall as soon as I got into my room.
Through the jackets. Through the jeans. Though the drawers.
'Not enough money.'
'Kitchen drawer?'
'No.'
'Then where?'
I thought about asking him to pay for the ride. Blaming him for making me go back and check if Jungkook was alive.
But it made no sense.
He was doing me a favor.
Because I'd never be able to forgive myself otherwise.
But he couldn't have used those words.
He had to make it about the consequences that would affect him.
'Paranoid insomniac.'
Because after all, self-preservation should be a priority. But for him, so is being able to live inside the house all day. Hiding his very existence.
Fighting with something you cannot win against.
'If he fell asleep and I'm coming over. He'll kill me.'
I kept searching for money.
Because that was the first lesser evil.
The second lesser evil was calling him.
The third was going through the kitchen drawer and taking money that wasn't mine, to begin with.
'Just go to sleep.'
'I can't.'
'I don't want to be here tomorrow!'
'I can't do it yet…'
'I want this night to last longer.'
'I can't go to bed.'
'… I am so tired.'
'I will come back the day after tomorrow.'
'He'll understand.'
'It'll be fine.'
'I'll think about what to say.'
'I'll have time to choose.'
'I'll…'
'I'll….'
Three days later, I was still crashing on Min-Su's couch.
He acted cold towards me at first.
But now he was sipping beer while pointing at the television.
Saying: "See. This is what pisses me off about the news."
"What?"
"Not having the option to choose which news the viewers want to be informed on."
"You can choose on the internet."
"But not on Tv. That's exactly why, one day, it will be irrelevant. All this bad stuff flashing before in our eyes, day in and day out."
"What were we talking about before?"
"I don't remember."
"Me neither."
"Wait, I think I know."
"Do you?"
"Yeah. When are you going back home, Namjoon?"
"Never."
"You have to pay me for the drugs, you know. And you can't pay if you don't work. And you can't work like this so you have to go home."
"Just one more day…"
"That's what you said yesterday."
"Come on, Min-Su."
"And for the food. My lack of sleep. The water you used for taking a two-hour shower."
"Can't you just tell me you want me out of your hair?"
"I don't want you out of my hair. But you're not willing to pay with your body."
I could only look down. Staring at his straight black hair that was cut right above his shoulders. His long hands as he swirled the liquid around in the green bottle.
The dark circles, the sharp eyes, and the fair skin.
I always avoided looking at him for too long.
Because it all reminded me of what I was willing to do to keep it all to myself. And how it'd slip out, making me grab onto anything to keep myself afloat.
"Min-Su…"
"Yes?"
"I'll go home tonight."
"Good. Clean up before you leave."
"Can I at least have one more hit?"
"You have to go back sober."
"Why?"
He sighed. Left the bottle on the table and went straight to his room. Slamming the door behind him.
And a part of me was waiting. Hoping he will bring me something. Anything.
But as time passed by, I had to come to terms that he wasn't coming back.
'You had to mention that option. Even though, you had the perfect excuse. You couldn't bring yourself to keep lying and make it sound perfectly logical.'
'That's not like you, Min-Su.'
