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acescavern · 7 months

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END TO START - LEE TAEYONG X READER

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Pairing: Soulmate!Johnny x Soulmate! reader, Taeyong x reader. ( Ft Mark, Jungwoo, Ten, Jaehyun, Taeil, Yuta. Mentions Jaemin once.)

Genre: Heavy angst my guys, soulmates au, neo frat au, university au, fluff, Hanahaki Soulmate trope.

Synopsis: Taeyong had been perfectly happy to sit back and watch you and Johnny be together. However, when he starts to notice certain behaviors that are all too familiar, he finds himself unable to watch you slowly die. Just because Johnny may not love you anymore... doesn't mean Taeyong doesn't love you either.

wc: 4.9k

Warnings: Heavy angst, Blood, Mentions of death, suffering, choking, johnny is unfaithful, it's a Hanahaki au so they basically cough up dead and thorned flowers. It's not a graphic description but there are descriptions of pain too, mentions of weight loss due to being unwell, Unrequited love, hurt, Taeyong's been in love with the reader since before her and Johnny got together, heavy rejection, soulmate rejection ( Just because i have written this does NOT mean that i think any one of the nct members would cheat or act thi way. this is pure FICTION.) Please let me know if i have missed any warnings

Note: Hi! I have a few fics in the works but I'm worried I wont get them done for Halloween. So, I am blessing you with this heart-breaking fic. I wanted to release this fic early as a thank you for all your love on Operation Rizz! Now, this is the same frat universe as all my other NCT fics. they can all be read as stand alone though, so don't worry! Any feedback is once again appreciated. I do not own the concept of Hanahaki.

Likes and reblogs are appreciated

Soulmates were supposed to be someone's everything—the one person who was meant specifically for them. Someone you can lean on and cherish, who would dote and adore you. Someone to dish out as much love to you as you unto them. To stay by your side and grow old together. However, some people are already at that stage when they meet their destined person. There was also the worry of some people not having a soulmate. Legend says that only the blessed are gifted with such.

Gifted? Yes. To many, the Soulmate system is a curse - depending on what type you are assigned to. Tattoos? Easy. Mind reading? Okay a little more difficult. Red string? That practically takes you straight to them. Eternal life? Near impossible! You could spend many years with someone you thought was a soulmate only to see a wrinkle and realize you aren’t made for each other at all. Seeing things in black and white only to suddenly be overwhelmed with color at a music festival and not know who the hell you’d bumped into in that massive crowd that could possibly be your soulmate. Not everyone even had a soulmate, they could be with whoever they wanted without consequences.

But there was one type in particular that nobody wanted. Hanahaki. Named after the fictional Japanese Hanahaki Disease. It comes from the Japanese words Hana - meaning flower and Hakimasu - quite literally meaning, to throw up.

In a soulmate's case, when they first meet each other a seed is awakened. It grows thorned roses - the flowers of love - cradling the person’s heart and twining around inside their lungs. For the most part, other than the occasional flutter and heartburn, it goes unnoticeable. So long as the soulmate reciprocates the feelings of love. But, should one soulmate start to fall out of love? The other will suffer terribly. The flowers will die, the spikey stems squeezing at the organs they were once gently caressing with love. Crushing in their anguish.

Of course, unlike the other soulmate types, there are two ways out of Hanahaki... Let the weight of the unreciprocated love drag on painfully until you die, or convince your health insurance to accept the cost of the operation to remove the offending plants. However, by the time one realizes they are soulmates, it is likely that the bond has already been unreciprocated.

Taeyong knew this. He knew this because it happened to him. He had once been on the receiving end of the agonizing scratch of dead rose stems climbing up his throat in a mess of blood and wilted petals. Taeyong had nearly died. He recognized the signs clearly and that was the reason he was so shocked to see them in who he did.

Johnny’s soulmate.

Taeyong first took notice when you walked through the door of the club. A celebration night to celebrate the frat’s anniversary alongside Taeyong’s new choreographer position in the dance studio he works in. Your face had a slightly paler tone and although you were doing a good job at keeping your breathing even… Taeyong recognized the telltale signs of a wince when you took the air in too harshly.

But when he saw Johnny approach you and press a loving kiss to your forehead, he scolded himself for thinking such things. Taeyong knew something was up though, your smile didn’t meet your eyes and when you congratulated him with a hug, he swore he could feel your body tremble.

He tried not to worry too much throughout the night but when he saw Johnny by the bar, his charming smile dazzled at some sorority girls that had been invited… Taeyong wondered where you’d gone. The disappointment within him only grew when he watched his best friend and frat brother go home with one of them.

So, maybe his suspicions were correct. A few weeks passed and he’d not seen a glimpse of you, Johnny hadn’t even uttered your name. The rapper hadn’t had time to sit him down and ask him about the incident. Until now.

Taeyong dabbed the sweat from his brow with the neckline of his shirt, swiping his water bottle from the floor. He shuffled toward his friend, watching as he grinned at his phone as he typed. He was talking to someone and Taeyong only hoped it was you. That you’d both mended things to stop it getting worse. The thought of it all being a misunderstanding had a relieved smile spreading across his face as he settled on the floor next to Johnny.

“You texting ____? Tell her I said Hey.” Taeyong said, twisting the cap off his drink to take a swig. Taeyong was almost taken aback at the irritated flash that crossed Johnny’s expression at the mention of your name.

If Taeyong wasn’t so observant, he would have missed it. Johnny shook his head, swiftly locking his phone when his leader went to peer over his shoulder. “It’s not. It’s Yuki.”

Taeyong’s eyebrows scrunched, posture freezing for a moment. “The sorority girl you went home with?” He tried to keep his tone level. Memories of the same thing happening to himself reoccur in his mind. “What about ____?” The question hung awkwardly in the air, Johnny staring at Taeyong as if he’d asked something ridiculous.

“What about her?” He shrugged. “Just because I do stupid things, doesn't mean I don’t love her. She’s my soulmate.” He paused, an almost defeated sigh sagging at his shoulders. “The only one I got.”

Taeyong took notice of the slight bitterness in his words. Almost as if he didn’t realize that he did it. “Do you?”

Johnny rubbed at the back of his neck, his mouth opening but no words coming out. Once again, a defeated shrug of his shoulders. “Yeah… yes.” He cleared his throat as his voice broke. “I’m sure we’d of noticed by now if I hadn’t.” Johnny left no room for debate, standing up with a clap of his hands to suggest they continue their lacrosse practice.

You knew. You knew Johnny’s feelings for you were dwindling. You were reminded every time you coughed. Reminded by the way your breath left you in an agonizing squeeze when Johnny would kiss your forehead.

But, even though you knew… it didn’t make you love him any less. You knew what he got up to when your nights weren't spent together. You didn’t do a thing, didn’t bring it up. You almost tried to ignore it. You loved Johnny. You always would. And, as long as you continued to love him, he wouldn’t have the same fate as you. You would never wish this pain on him even if he was the cause.

You wished you’d heeded Mark’s seemingly lighthearted warning at the beginning of your relationship. ‘He’s one of my closest friends but he doesn’t always do the right thing, just… please be careful.’ Mark had said one evening. You hadn’t truly understood why he had said it, nor did you get to question him before Johnny had slid his arm around your middle.

You understood perfectly now. Especially as a sharp tickle wheezed in the back of your throat, your eyes discreetly scanning the new text message from your seat at the very back row of English lit class. ‘Can we rain check date night again? Coach is being a hardass and wants us to stay late.’ For the third week running, the same excuse. Sure, you’d seen Johnny. But Thursday was always date night. Something you’d both stuck to like glue once before.

Pain twisted in your chest, your breath rough. You brought the sleeve of your hoodie to your mouth, attempting a discreet cough. It didn’t do anything for you, the feeling like you’d swallowed razorblades. The world felt like it was spinning for a moment and you had to close your eyes and count to ten to steady it again.

One look at your sleeve had you frowning. The next stage had started. You’d read about this. Discoloured petals. You’d only coughed up one but one was enough for you to be sure. With one last attempt at clearing your throat, you brushed the blackened petal to the ground.

Taeyong shared this class with you. Whilst he didn’t often sit next to you, he was mostly always on the same row. Not many people occupied the back row and so, when he heard the muffled hack come from your direction he had looked over, shoulders tensing as he watched you.

He approached you at the end of class, watching your sluggish movements as you shoved your laptop back into your bag. “____, Are you alright?” He asked softly, noting the sheen of sickly sweat coasting your forehead.

Lips pressed firmly together, you nodded. You were certain if you opened your mouth you'd start coughing and choking again but you didn’t want to be rude. “I’m fine.” Bad idea. “Sorry, Yong, I gotta go-” Taeyong had never heard your voice so scratchy and coarse. He had also never seen you flee so quickly before he could even open his mouth, your notepad falling from your unzipped bag as you vanished before his eyes.

As he knelt down to collect it from the ground, his fingers made contact with a velvety, withered texture.

A blackened rose petal.

The next time Taeyong saw you, you were much worse than he could have imagined. He had only turned up at your apartment because he assumed Johnny had left his phone at your place. He couldn’t really understand the rushed words of ‘Shit! I left my phone at her place, I’m already late!’ When Taeyong offered to go and get it, he naturally thought of your place.

So when you answered the door, he was standing frozen at the sight of you. Your eyes had bags under them that would put JFK airport to shame. Your complexion was grey, lips cracked and dry. Taeyong could definitely see you’d lost some weight too, your knitted sweater nearly slipping off one shoulder. His gaze caught onto the marks along your neck, long red streaks almost looking like you had been clawing at it in your agony. Your winced call of his name kicked his brain into gear.

“Now isn’t a good ti-” His hands flew out to rub and pat your back as your words were interrupted.

Taeyong’s heart broke as he watched you struggle. You couldn’t get your breath, your face turning red from the strenuosity. Taeyong backed you into your apartment, kicking the door closed behind him. He sat you on your couch, disappearing from view for a moment.

You didn’t even take note of what exactly was being thrust under your nose, only that it would catch what your body rejected. One of his hands held the bucket, the other sweeping your hair away from your face. It was all too familiar for him. Except for Taeyong, he had done it alone.

“It’s okay, ____” He hushed, palm flattened over your back to rub comforting circles. “Breath through your nose and count to ten. It helps.”

You did as such, shoulders relaxing as the air finally seeped into your lungs. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, sighing at the crimson residue that was becoming all too familiar. You opened your mouth to speak, only to be gently hushed once more.

“It’s okay, it’ll hurt too much if you talk.” He set the bucket down on the side table. “You should get yourself some grapeseed oil. A teaspoon a day should at least prevent the attacks so often.” Taeyong didn’t look at you as he spoke, his hands busying themselves with opening the small drawer to your coffee table in search of tissues.

“You mean this?” You rasped, pulling the small droplet bottle from your pocket, and setting it down on the surface before you. Taeyong’s eyebrows creased.

It was the exact same bottle he was sure he had. Though, catching sight of the label on the bottle he knew it was his bottle. ‘Taeyong’ scribbled messily on the labeled sticker. He looked at you expectantly.

“Johnny gave it to me.” Just uttering his name sent a pang of hurt through you, a wave of emotion rippling from your jaw to the tips of your toes.

Taeyong understood immediately, a deep sigh resonating as he nodded once. “He knows then.” To which you nodded, eyes fixed on your lap.

He had never seen you cry, and he would hate to admit it but your eyes looked pretty when you did. It was as if the glaze of tears enhanced the colors of your iris. “He doesn’t know it’s this bad. He thinks the tickle has just started.”

“____, you’re dying and you’re telling me Johnny hasn’t noticed yet?” To say that Taeyong was in disbelief was an understatement. The new knowledge that Johnny knew now had floored him.

Why? Because Johnny hadn’t once let it show. Taeyong had been around the guy all week and he was still the happy comedic genius he always was. Not a hint of anything bothering him.

“Yong, It’s okay. I..” You drew your knees up to your chest, patting the spot next to you for him. “I’ve come to terms with it.”

“Come to terms with it?!” He spluttered. “____, you are in your twenties! You can’t be okay with dying in your twenties.” His hand raked through his hair, eyes blinking rapidly like he couldn't come to terms with how calm you looked right now.

Taeyong could feel the anger bubbling up in his chest, his gaze hardening as he addressed you once more. “You know he’s been seeing her too, don’t you?”

You were silent, shame eating at your subconscious. “If I ignore it then he won’t have to be like this too.”

Taeyong sprung up to his feet. “Wake up! He’s out there living his life with no regrets and you’re the one to suffer? I can’t…” He shook his head, shoving his clenched fists into his pockets. “I’m sorry, I just-” With one last shake of his head, Taeyong left you there. The slam of your front door announcing his absence.

Johnny remembered the conversation between the two of you very clearly. He was convinced he still loved you a lot. Just not in the way you need. At first, he thought it was doubt, but as time went on he started to notice the dry tickly cough and the abundance of petals scattered in your trash. He was sure it wasn’t harmful yet, certain that he still held the love in his heart for you.

Johnny didn’t love Yuki. She was fun. She was different. She wasn’t you. He could spend time with her without any strings attached. It was freeing, knowing he wasn't destined to be with her no matter what.

He felt guilt at first. He didn’t like lying to you, but it was for his own selfish gain that he did. Johnny had seen Taeyong go through the pain and near death of a soulmate falling out of love, he didn’t want that for himself. Johnny had too much to live for, as arrogant and self-centred as that sounded.

He remembered what you said when he gave you the vial of grapeseed oil, how your shaky hands had placed over his own. How you told him it was okay, it wasn’t his fault. But Johnny couldn’t help but think it was. Johnny tried so hard to make himself love you still. Your words of comfort swirled in his mind and kept him up at night. ‘Nobody can help who they do and don’t love. Feelings change, People don’t’ You’d said to him.

Johnny felt ashamed. Being unfaithful to you whilst you still loved him with every ounce of your soul. Deep down, Johnny knew you only had two options he just hoped you made a decision before it was too late.

Taeyong had been seen by barely anyone all week. It was as if he was attending his classes and then picking up every extra shift or odd job imaginable. The Neos were even more shocked when Mark slapped a flier down on the dining table ping pong table in front of some of the brothers. A for sale flier, advertising their frat leader’s motorcycle. The very same one that he cherished and spent a fortune to modify.

“Do you think he’s in debt?” Jungwoo frowned, setting his beer on the table.

That question alone earned a chortled laugh. “Woo, we’re in university. We’re all in debt.” Yuta clapped him on the back. “But, on a serious note, He’s been acting super weird lately.”

Everyone launched into debate, trying to determine why Taeyong would be selling his pride and joy so suddenly. Conversation ceased when the front door opened and the man in question shuffled into the open-plan living space with an exhausted wave.

“Ty, are you actually selling the bandit?” The question came from Taeil, Neo frat’s oldest member.

Taeyong moved through the living area, taking a seat at one of the beanbags littered around the table. “Already sold it.” He bobbed his head in a nod.

It earned him many concerned looks. “Are you in trouble or something? Are you trying to cover the water bill from when Mark broke the faucet?”

“No, Jae. I’m not in trouble. It’s not for me.” He reassured, his voice dying down quietly. “It’s for ____.”

Everyone stopped. Mark locked his phone, Yuta stopped chipping at his nail polish, and Taeil nearly spat out his beer. Jaehyun and Jungwoo were already staring at him.

“Why?”

Taeyong took a deep breath, anticipating the question.It didn’t take long for him to catch them up to speed. “You haven’t noticed? I can’t watch her die. Even if she’s come to terms with it.”

“She’s not been to class for a few weeks. Professor Choi just straight-up skips over her name now. I’m guessing they know.” Jaehyun hummed.

“Hm, Jaemin said he saw her last week on his midnight ramen run.” Mark recalled, “Said she looked like something out of living dead.”

“Mark,” Taeyong gave him a warning look. The younger just shrugged his shoulders. “I’m going to book the operation for her. She doesn’t know. I just need the deposit. After that, it’s monthly payments. I can scrape enough together for the monthly just fine.” He looked pained. “Whenever I see her, it’s like I’m watching myself go through it again.”

One by one, Jaehyun, Mark, Jungwoo, Yuta, and Taeil offered their help.

The six of them didn’t make it known what their plans were but soon enough, after Taeyong had put what he had already saved with what the others offered, it was enough. He rocked up to the private medical center, cash in an envelope that was tucked neatly within the inside pocket of his jacket.

Taeyong was pleasantly surprised that he was allowed to schedule and pay the deposit on your behalf. Acting on best interest. The receptionist did stress that you needed to fill in the form and sign consent upon arrival but Taeyong was more pleased that he was giving you a chance at life. That there was a possibility that you could carry on.

What he didn’t expect, was your immediate refusal when he brought the leaflet and forms over to your apartment the following morning. The smile dropped from his face as you tried to hide away from him. ‘He could die.’ You’d cried at him. And whilst it had been proven he wouldn't, you were convinced.

“He won’t, ____.” Taeyong begged. “Please, you can’t just accept this.” The bed dipped as he sat on the edge. The many times he had visited you now, you had always been. The last time you got up to open the door, Taeyong honestly worried that you would pass away right there on the doorstep. He took your spare key after that.

Taeyong’s gentle fingers lifted the damp wash cloth from the bowl at your bedside, running the cool material over your brow and cheeks. A light smile twitched at the corner of your lips, the sensation easing your fever, only a little but it was better than before. He knew he wasn’t going to get many more words from you this evening. You’d exhausted yourself already for the evening. Taeyong was just content enough to sit here and care for you.

Honestly, before it was known that you were Johnny’s soulmate, Taeyong had hoped you’d notice him. He had often found himself wishing that it wouldn’t last so he could at least have a shot with you. His hopes were crushed when Johnny had run through the fraternity declaring you were both soulmates. Taeyong had made peace with the idea that maybe he was meant to be alone, satisfied just by seeing you whenever Johnny brought you over to hang out.

He never wished for this, though.

Tenderest of touches brushed your hair away from where it had clung to your forehead. Taeyong clicking on the standing fan in an attempt to offer you some cool relief. “Trust me, ____.” He whispered, voice brittle. “I went through this.” His confession had your right eye cracking open.

“Back in the first year,” Taeyong recalled. “Watching you and Johnny go through this… it’s like a mirror. I nearly died,” He picked up your hand, engulfing it in both of his own. “I refused the operation until it was nearly too late. For the same reason, actually.”

Your fingers twitched in his own, your index finger hooking around his thumb to offer comfort. You have suspected Taeyong had some close experience with this. Especially in the way he always seemed to understand your pain, the sad gazes, and his drive to help you. You had never expected that he would be the one in your position though. The meer thought had tears welling up in your eyes. You seemed to cry a lot around the man these days.

“He didn’t die though. Apparently, he just… coughed up the root.” He lifted your hand, the ghosting feeling of his lips against your knuckles. “I promise you, Johnny won’t die… At least think about it.” To which you nodded in agreement.

Taeyong made you soup, your favorite kind. You weren’t even sure how he knew it was your favorite but he did. He parted from you with a lingering kiss to your hairline. Just like every night. This form of unrequited love seemed to of hurt him more than his last.

He’d left the forms and leaflets on the empty bed space by your feet.

You’d asked Taeyong not to come over for the last four days. As worried as he was, he had to respect your wishes. You didn’t want him to see your sudden decline as you entered the last stage of the rejection. Meaning, that Johnny had almost fallen completely out of love with you now.

You were expecting it, Taeyong too. You and Johnny had broken things off the last time you saw each other. Both of you doing so without even having to clarify the matter. He was free. Almost.

Taeyong had been stressed all week, even his frat brothers had given him a wide berth. Many put it down to the lacrosse game the pending evening. Only a select few really knew that it was because today was the same day Taeyong had scheduled for your surgery.

He hadn’t known it was the same day as the game, Jungwoo uttering the words with caution the day before. Taeyong swore to himself that he thought he booked it for next week. He didn’t even know if you were going to accept it… Any time he brought it up you tended to change the subject.

How Taeyong managed to even pass the ball with steady swings amazed even himself, his hands hadn’t stopped shaking. He had nearly skipped the game in favor of being with you, but he knew he couldn’t. The game had gone smoothly, they were winning by one. In fact, Johnny had to take the penalty shot.

The whole field waited on bated breath, all eyes on Johnny as he just stood there, his expression morphed in such a way that Taeyong exchanged a look with Jaehyun.

“Seo! Take the damn shot already!” The coach didn’t even get through his ending word before Johnny’s form curled over, knees slamming into the ground.

Taeyong rushed over as his friend tore off his helmet and spat his mouthguard to the ground. He would worry about that later. Taeyong slid to his knees beside Johnny, his own helmet crashing to the ground out of his grip.

Johnny had never felt such pain. His airways were burning. The sensation in his chest felt like all the oxygen was being torn from him. The team crowded around him, blocking anyone else's view of the scene. A choked cough left his throat, a shout of agony following after. Petals. Blood. Stems. The flower was unwinding itself, pulling at the roots from within his chest and lungs.

The team managed to maneuver Johnny back to the locker rooms, it took four of them to carry him but soon the male was slumped against the tiles of the showers. Taeyong was beside him once again. “Cough it up Johnny, you’ll do more damage if you don’t.” He tugged Johnny’s arm to sit him forward, his fist thumping down in the center of his back. “Johnny, come on!”

To say Taeyong was relieved when Johnny finally started coughing again was an understatement. “You gotta carry it on, it’ll hurt but I’ve got you.” He pleaded over the sound of his friend’s cries and chokes.

Johnny doesn’t know how long he continuously coughed for. All he knew was the last one to shake through his body finally offered him release, Taeyong tugging him away from the mangled mix of plant and blood only to rip him, Johnny, from his shock-induced state by shoving him under the freezing cold shower stream - kit and all.

A big, clear breath left him.

“What the fuck, John?” Ten peaked his head around the corner, having raced in after the team to check on his best friend.

“Dude, that's your flower.” Mark grimaced, crouched down next to the offending object.

The announcement made Johnny’s spine straighten, and Taeyong hung his head. “What does it mean?” Johnny shakily stood, pressing the button to stop the stream of cold water.

It was fascinating how Johnny already felt better. He felt no pull in his chest, no weakness even after the whole ordeal. He felt new. But if he felt like this… then what had happened to you? The realization of what had happened weighed heavy on his guilt.

He turned to address the sort of traumatized, faces around him but it wasn’t him that spoke up. It was Taeyong. “It means I need to find ____.”

Taeyong had raced past his teammates and into the locker room without any further explanation. His phone cramped between his ear and shoulder as he tugged on his sweats at record speed. “C’mon, Petal. Pick up.” He swore to himself, only removing the device from his ear to throw on a t-shirt from his locker. It was a term of endearment he had taken to calling you of late, though quite often when you were too dazed to notice.

He ignored the looks of confusion from his friends. Well, from those other than Mark and Jaehyun. From the look on Johnny’s face, he was still piecing things together. Taeyong didn’t have time for that, snatching the keys for the beat-up Honda he had gotten recently and sprinting from the room.

Taeyong continued to call you on the way to your apartment. He had just hoped you’d gotten yourself to the appointment. He didn’t want to think about the possibility of losing you like this. He found himself afraid to enter your building, scared of what he may find. His head thumped against the steering wheel, eyes burning with unshed tears. You had to be okay.

His phone buzzed, body jumped when he saw your name flash on the screen. He swiped to answer, bringing it up to his ear with a relieved sigh. “____.” He listened to your breathing for a split second, registering the steady beeps in the background.

“Is he alive?” Your tone was filled with urgency but your voice was clearer than Taeyong had heard in weeks. It had a relieved laugh bubbling from his chest, salty droplets cascading down his cheeks and leaving his tear ducts with the tension in him.

“He’s fine.” He sniffled, rubbing at his face. “ Petal, you’re okay. I tho-” You interrupted him with a soothing call of his name.

“You were right.” He listened to you pause, the sounds of you sipping through a straw present in the receiver. “There are things I do have to live for.” You spoke quietly. “The first one being myself.”

He hummed in agreement, starting up the car again. “Yeah? I’ll be there soon and you can tell me all about the second, Petal.” He was rewarded with a breathy laugh. “What?”

“Petal.” You murmured, Taeyong could hear the slumber lingering back into your tone.

“Get some rest. I’ll be there soon.” He was about to pull the phone away from his ear when you quietly called his name again.

“Yes?” He hummed, clicking the hands-free and setting the phone into the holder on the dash.

“Can I tell you my second reason?”

“What’s that, Petal?” He smiled softly to himself.

“It’s you.”

©Acescavern - I do not give permission for my works to be copied, translated or reposted

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zh-lele · 10 months

Text

TOO FAST (m)

▪︎Pairing: Mark Lee x female reader

▪︎Genres: angst, romance, street racing au, friends with benefits trope

▪︎Warnings: graphic descriptions and mentions of death, blood, violence, drug use, and depression; profanity; sexual and suggestive content. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Contains spoilers of previous parts of the series.

▪︎Word count: 12.6k words

playlist | Pictures taken by Taeyong | Drifting series

Hi everyone! New installment of my Drifting series is up :) This is Mark's part and happens right after Haechan's story, so it's filled with spoilers (if you haven't read that one yet.) I don't really think you need to read Haechan's part to understand what happens around here, but if you want, please go check 'We ridin'' that's also liked in my masterlist. Also, this fic is pretty graphic so please read warnings and don´t proceed if you feel uncomfy with any of the themes treated here. Without much more to say, I hope you enjoy this story!

0. That's a pretty big trunk on my Lincoln Town Car, ain't it?

No matter how much weight he pulls off of his car, Mark can't get to drive freely around anymore. The backseats are gone, and the truck is empty before he starts the race. And you are waiting for him at the end of the road when he makes it first to the finish line, a big smile plastered on your face while looking at him. Everybody quickly starts cheering for him and throwing money to his face. And he tries hard. He tries so hard to enjoy it and be happy behind the steering wheel like he used to do, but he can't find to be able to.

Don't they see it too?

The car's trunk filled with bodies like a Hearse. The steering wheel bleeding, painting Mark's shaky hands in red. His swollen eyes wet with tears. All those scattered pieces on the pavement… And he can never get rid of the weight because he is the one carrying all that heaviness that won't let him breathe, no matter how empty he wants to leave the car.

He rubs his face up and down in frustration, mixing the blood and the tears until he turns, looking back at the destroyed vehicle. Hanging off the open trunk it's his head, open and misshapen, covered in blood, exactly as Mark had last seen him. It feels like a nightmare. He prays and begs to God for it to be a nightmare, please let it be a nightmare.

Your smile dissipates as soon as you lock eyes with him. Mark blinks once to let the tears roll down his cheeks and wet your hands that cup his face. When he realizes it wasn't a nightmare but a distorted memory of reality, the uncontrollably sobs come. So you hold him in your arms in the middle of messy bed sheets, trying to deal with the melancholy of another sleepless night taking care of your hurt best friend.

Mark's memories haunt him. Ever since the accident happened, you're sure he hasn't got a full night of sleep, and you hardly remember the last time you did. If he's not racing or partying until the sun comes out early in the morning, he's constantly trying to fall asleep and repeatedly being awakened by these nightmares, these horrible memories being manifested in his dreams, and getting scared by only closing his eyes in the dark.

The yellow light on the old nightstand illuminates very dimly the small hotel room where Mark has been living for the last time, and where you have found yourself returning more often than usual. Everything is messy and dirty. Mark's clothes sit piled up in a mountain on a chair in the corner of the room, and the tabletop cannot be seen due to the number of boxes and empty fast food packages left behind, not being cleaned for months now. To your left, the nightstand is littered with boxes of twenty Marlboro cigarettes, empty as well; broken lighters, and a dirty glass pipe with traces of a substance you haven't quite figured out yet and are afraid to do so.

Your best friend won't talk much to you despite having you coming back to his bed every night, but you don't need that to believe he's depressed.

You remember how it started. How you got yourself into the same hole.

—

Inside the small apartment the air felt thick and humid. The dim colored lights coming from the speaker did a poor job of outlining a tall silhouette in front of you. Your body was sweaty, your feet ached from standing for so many hours, and your heart beat faster than normal. Maybe it was tiredness. Maybe it was because of the sound vibrations of fast electronic music resonating with the movement of your heart muscle. Or maybe it was because of the joint that Yuta left between your fingers after exhaling all the smoke in your face, and you didn't hesitate to repeat his actions.

You couldn't wait to leave. You also couldn't allow yourself to touch any kind of surface because you knew that as soon as you leaned against a wall or an armchair, you wouldn't be able to get up again. It might not have been the smartest decision at the time to grab the glass of vodka Yuta was holding in his hands and finish it in one gulp, but you would have done anything to make the time go by faster.

And it worked, actually. It's hard to even remember the kind of music that started playing after that moment. What you remember exactly, however, something you can't erase from your memories of that night is what Mark looked like.

The color in his electric blue hair had already begun to fade, and his bangs clung to his forehead from all the humidity. Even with his unkempt appearance and the sleeves of his t-shirt rolled up to his shoulders, revealing toned arms that glistened under a fine sheen of sweat. None of it took away from his undeniable appeal. None of that mess was meant to make you walk away from him and forget how he felt that night. Like being drunk on Mark. As if all your senses were reduced to perceiving him, and only him. When did he even appear on your side?

"You're all wet."

"It's from all the dancing," Mark said, moving his face away from yours, just enough to keep supporting your waist with one hand, and wipe the sweat that had transferred from his cheek to yours with the other.

His closeness allowed you to perceive the smell of alcohol and cigarettes that emanated from his body. Firm muscles under his clothes that you couldn't have failed to notice all night, couldn't help but feel at that moment under your touch. An innocent enough tact, with intentions to keep dancing to whatever was playing. He couldn't know how much you liked him. You were best friends for fuck's sake. And no matter how many times you imagined it, there would never be another reality where you could be more than best friends. Furthermore, you were both too intoxicated to cross the line and then be able to return to your comfort zone. You knew you wouldn't be able to come back once you allowed yourself to get to know Mark in any other way.

"You know what's missing tonight?"

Mark had won the race that night. Five grand that were going straight to his wallet and his pride. That had Yuta celebrating and patting at Mark's back when he made it out of the car with a smile on his face to wrap him in a tight hug. A victory that would give Mark a moment of reassurance, that would distract him only for a second from all the horrible things that were actually going on in his life.

Despite all fears of ending up alone and punished by all his friends, life showed Mark everyday that he was wrong. Yuta chose to keep in contact with him even after the accident and after Johnny got mad at Mark. You were still around him too. And he was still a successful street racer that made thousands per night and allowed himself to have fun with a bunch of pretty girls. So yeah, you would've never guessed the words that came out of Mark Lee's mouth after that. You would've never imagined that what that night was missing was–

"A kiss from you," he answered himself, letting out a heavy breath and leaning dead-weight on you. "Just one kiss?"

That simple line was all it took to take your breath away. He was that powerful, and you kind of hated yourself for allowing him. You thanked in silence for the lack of lights in the living room, because your temperature rising and getting your face all red would've given you away.

"I don't know." You were honest with him. It was kind of ironic inside of your head, how much you wanted him yet you couldn't decide if you wanted to act on that desire. There were pros and cons.

On one hand, you would've done anything for Mark to feel better, to let him out of that dark void you saw him getting in, deeper every day. Anything for him. On the other hand, you knew how the story goes, from your friends and because you saw it in enough movies; casualty never works when there's feelings involved. You didn't have to experience it to know it wouldn't mean just a drunken kiss to you, just a little fun. It was gonna end up hurting, dragging you in like a cult, a bad religion.

It felt like years, the time you were thinking about what to say to him. "I really don't know."

"C'mon," he was persistent, getting his head off the crook of your neck and staring right into your eyes, then dropped the sight to your lips. And he left it there while he kept mumbling. "One lil' kiss."

How many things could ruin a silly, drunken kiss between friends at a party?

Your eyes met Yuta for a brief moment, before you saw him raise his eyebrows at you, an expression that said 'Are you really doing this?' on his face, and then saw him leave the room.

The thing is, you had liked Yuta since the very first moment you saw him and had been fooling around ever since. He's a true gentleman. He's fun to be around but centered enough to give you all the calmness you might need at the end of a stressful day. He's good enough to give you some of the best fucks of your life as well. He has a good job, no bad habits, and he gives you enough space. Anyone could say Yuta is the perfect candidate. If Mark wouldn't even look at you but happened that Yuta proposed to you, you would probably agree to be his girlfriend in a second.

You wanted to tell Mark no. You truly wanted to be faithful to whatever you had with Yuta. But you had loved Mark since forever. And that was different.

Now you believe you would've never had to accept that kiss from Mark Lee that night because, spoiler: after one kiss, you weren't able to stop.

So it happened one, two, three, four, five, countless times until you finally found the solution to Mark's sleeping situation. Sometimes it required a lot of alcohol, sometimes it required him to have something to smoke. But what never changed was that it had to start with a kiss and follow with a lot of your attention. It always ended with you and him, skin to skin to his bed sheets. He gets a night's full sleep, and you usually get a headache from all the overthinking.

—

When you feel that his breathing has become heavy again and his grip around your torso loosens, you confirm that Mark has gone back to sleep. The clock on the wall above the window reads 05:02 in the morning, and if Mark doesn't have another nightmare in the next hour, he may be able to sleep until the sun comes up.

Carefully and almost moving in slow motion, you slip from his grasp to get up from the bed. Your friend has been feeling exhausted for months now, and no matter how many hours he sleeps, he never manages to recover. That's what he tells you all the time: that he's exhausted from being exhausted, from wanting to rest and not being able to. So when you finally get him to drift off to sleep, the last thing you want is to wake him up.

You grab your pillow and place it filling the space that your body occupied between his arms, so he doesn't feel alone. You're not going anywhere but to sit on the dirty old couch in the next room. Mark's room and the space functioning as the entrance to the motel room are only separated by a thin wall of wood and plaster, and a curtain. If he happens to wake up again in the next few hours, you will be able to listen to him without any problem and return to him immediately.

When you turn on the yellow light in the gloomy bathroom—which door is broken so you won't even bother trying to close it—, the scene at the entrance lights up and you spot the figure laying on the couch. You wait for the glass to fill with water to turn off the tap in the sink and turn off the light, plunging the room into darkness again. The water runs hot and is of little help in quenching your thirst, but that's all you have for now until the convenience store near the motel opens.

Despite the darkness, you can see a large pair of eyes watching your every move carefully. He must have woken up because of Mark's nightmare, just like you. Coincidentally, in the small couch there is a space where you know you fit perfectly, so you take it and lie down next to him. The sides of your bodies rub against each other because it's a small couch afterall, and even when you can start to feel the heat of the morning you would like to get closer, snuggle into him, to wrap yourself in his arms and sleep together forever. But you're not going to do anything because Mark is only a curtain away. Also, because you were pretty sure he didn't want you anymore, not after you practically stopped seeing him the moment you started fucking Mark.

"Have you talked to Johnny?"

You turn your head to set your eyes on Yuta, lying on the couch still with all his clothes on, one arm acting as a pillow under his head. His long lashes brush his cheeks every time he blinks, and his chest rises and falls in a calm, controlled breath. Just looking at him gives you all the peace you are missing, making you sleepy. And you want to sleep, oh how you want to sleep for endless hours.

He shakes his head no.

"I feel like… I don't know, Mark really needs him right now."

There is a long silence in which you roll onto your side to keep looking at him. His eyes, now closed, make you think he has fallen asleep until he finally opens his mouth to speak.

"Johnny doesn't want to know anything about Mark." Yuta turns his head to look at you this time. His gaze is soft but holds all the truths you don't like to think of, so you can't do much more than moving your head down with a frown in your brows, and keep listening to him. "What he did to Haechan was stupid, put all of us in danger."

Memories of that night are fresh in your brain for two reasons. The first one, is that you interacted with Yuta for the first time that night, and things just escalated between the two of you from there. The second reason has to do with the fact that, all that happened back then, was Mark's breaking point.

1. You hit them stones and you broke your home

At the center of the closed road, the pavement was already painted with traces of burnt tires forming circular patterns. As the candy-colored cars drifted and slided and had all the people filming and celebrating around them, you really couldn't think of a worse way to waste your tires. It's a passion they seem to have, that you yet have to get to understand.

You observed Mark work frantically on his car, making you feel like there wasn't enough time. All his movements were too rushed, and his eyes moved around the crowd with a paranoid look. The rest of the team was counting the money, looking for someone to flag, taking the seats out of the car to make it as light as possible, moving the people from the middle of the street. You could already hear some sirens far in the distance, getting closer and closer.

"Mark, hurry up!"

Getting off an orange car with the windows all black, a voice rushed Mark to start the race. He had that spine-chilling look despite his totally relaxed walk, looking like he owned the streets. He was the protagonist of a bunch of stories Mark had told you about his friends. And you knew Mark admired and respected Johnny a lot. But Yuta... Yuta has always been something else to Mark. Something like his weakness, and it showed in the way he talked about him and behaved around him. "I can show you some pics, but you can't like him more than me," was how he always ended conversations about him.

You really tried to listen to your friend. You really tried not to get interested in the handsome guy giving him the last directions before the first race of the night. But you had to know him personally, had to get close to him. You wished it would have been under different circumstances, though.

A few minutes later, everything was ready for the race to start. Mark had to drive a few miles straight down the road, take an impromptu hairpin turn, and be back in front of your eyes safe and sound.

After the accident he got into with his friend Taeyong, everyone thought Mark would be too scared to drive again, at least for a while. But it was the complete opposite; he got careless and more reckless. Mark was sad and mad, and he used the races as a coping mechanism, among other things.

You, however, were worried and scared for him.

"I don't know why I agreed to come with you," you spoke with your arms crossed as you saw Mark walking towards you. He was wearing a subtle smile, and you could see how his face got rid of all that paranoia as soon as he found your eyes.

He wrapped you in a hug that forced you to uncross your arms to join them behind his head, reciprocating the gesture. "Thank you for coming," Mark told you so only you could hear him, and tightened the grip of his arms around your torso. "But you don't have to stay if you don't like it. I can ask one of the guys to get you home."

You took a look around separating yourself from him, and thought about his offer for a second. Johnny seemed busy dealing with all the bets for that night's race, so you doubted he could take you home. Jaehyun was racing too, so neither him or Mark were gonna drive you. Johnny's sister didn't own a car, so she wasn't an option. The only one who seemed like he wasn't occupied was Yuta, who was looking at the two of you with an unreadable expression, sitting on top of his car hood, probably just waiting for Mark to stop delaying the race.

You kinda, definitely wanted Yuta to take you home, to ride together and maybe chat a little on the way. To finally get to know him—and maybe exchange a kiss or two before you would come out of his car and walk to your door.

But that wasn't happening that night.

"No fucking way."

The crowd went silent. The only sound traveling through the thick summer atmosphere was the sound of the engines. No one needed him to get out of the bright yellow car to know who he was. Nonetheless, he got the audacity to do it.

"Didn't I fucking tell you," Johnny's voice was filled with rage, speaking directly to him, "that I don't want to see you around ever again?"

"I'm gonna fucking kill him." You heard Mark whisper in front of you.

"You're not doing shit." You grabbed Mark's jaw trying to get him to look at you, but his eyes were locked on Haechan. His hands left your waist to become fists at his sides, ready to attack if you weren't holding him back and speaking in his ear, trying to maintain your composure. "If you do anything to him, we're not gonna see the end of it."

But the truth was you wanted to beat him to pieces probably as much as Mark wanted to.

"Just one race!" Haechan got off his car speaking to Johnny with open arms, palms facing the night sky. "For the old times?"

"But…" Mark rested his eyes on you again, and you could almost see yourself reflected in the accumulation of tears that threatened to fall at any moment. He spoke only for you, "Taeyong is dead because of him."

People went crazy after hearing Haechan ask for a race. Three months had passed since the accident and, since then, neither Haechan nor the Lees had dared to roam the same streets as the Suhs and his friends. Of course, people like watching other people fight, they enjoy the gossip and the problems, so it didn't take long for the crowd to start betting on Haechan as the winner of that night. Johnny had no choice but to get his team to race against the Lees, to remind them again that he didn't want them around, and that it was just a one time thing.

"Listen," Johnny held Mark's face in his hands and spoke directly to his eyes, "you're gonna race and you're gonna make it to the finish line intact. I don't give a fuck about who's winning. I just want you to finish, so he can get the fuck out of here before I lose my mind and rip his face off."

Mark nodded quickly a few times. It was clear he was nervous—from the way he grabbed and squeezed the steering wheel with his hands, and settled back and forth in the seat, impatient for the race to end when it hadn't even started.

"Don't you–" a bit of embarrassment creeped into his voice and cut him half way into the sentence, making him gulp dry before proceeding. "Don't you have something for me? I'm just feeling a little low," he finished asking, his narrowed eyes barely daring to look at his older brother.

Johnny let out a heavy sigh and moved his head to look above Mark's car, into the racing scene, and pondered on it for a moment. Honestly, he never thought he could be the best leader or the best older brother, but he managed to convince himself he was doing pretty fine, until the Donghyuck thing happened. Not that Donghyuck thing, the one that had to do with his sister and later with Taeyong. But the Donghyuck thing that made the big family they all were before break apart, and split into two rival groups. Something happened in that moment that Johnny felt made him fall apart; he lost all that confidence he once had. It only got worse when Donghyuck got with his sister, though, and he took Taeyong with him too, and now he felt like he was losing Mark as well.

Johnny reached into the front pocket of his jeans and held the small bag there for a few seconds, while debating whose fault it was, and thinking about how he could stop ruining his family. Back then, he had no clear answer. He felt like Mark was fucked up enough already. And because he loves him unconditionally, he just did what he thought was best for Mark at the time.

He ended up taking the small bag from his front pocket and tossing it to Mark, who quickly grabbed it with both hands and didn't even thank Johnny before he was closing his tinted windows on his friend's face.

Johnny thought that even if it was the wrong thing to do, he himself would help Mark sober up later, because he couldn't dare lose any more brothers.

You watched the entire exchange from afar. From Mark positioning himself in line with Jaehyun, Haechan and another boy's cars at his sides, until Johnny and Yuta joined you with the same worried look that your eyes wore.

There was a constricting sensation in your chest, a pressure watching that scene unfold that made your voice tremble. "I have a bad feeling about this."

You know what they say, that there are friends with whom you live certain things, and friends with whom you are part of other things. Haechan, Mark and you were all good friends once, way back in high school, but after they parted ways you decided not to get involved in their illegal activities. You barely knew this side of Mark's life, most of it since he loved his friends so much and always told you everything about them. He tried to integrate you as much as possible when situations called for it: birthdays, casual meetings at Johnny's garage, and parties. But all that pretty far from the street racing scene, that being the first time he actually invited you to go watch him race after years.

"Don't worry," Johnny said to you at the same time his sister was positioning herself at the middle of the starting line, ready to give them the direction. "They know what they have to do very well.

And as soon as she lowered her arms, the cars sped off, leaving a huge cloud of smoke in front of you that obstructed your view for a few seconds.

"They will be driving in a straight line for about a kilometer," he continued. "Then they will reach a crossroads and must take the path to the right, we will lose sight of them at that moment."

"But if they do everything right and don't cause any trouble, we'll see them come out of that other corner." Yuta pointed at a corner a few blocks from you with a blinking yellow traffic light while explaining to you. "And someone will make it right here first. The winner."

You assumed that you managed to make him feel your intense gaze on him, and that made his eyes meet yours. His arms crossed while still leaning on the hood of his car. He noticed your nervousness.

"Relax," his voice was soft while speaking to you. A smile adorned his face when he invited you to sit with him, right beside his body on top of the orange hood. "Let's root for our team."

You nodded with your head at him and chose to remain silent. While you waited to see your friend return, you reached in the back pocket of your pants for the small box and the lighter, and lit a cigarette. It was the best thing you could think of to pass the time.

"You're a smokestack."

Your eyes widened hearing that. You didn't take it as an insult, since when you turned around and saw Yuta's face you only found a playful smile. But you still decided to take a long drag on the cigarette, blow out all the smoke, and then ask him in an offended tone.

"Excuse me?"

"You smoke too much," he said nonchalantly, jumping off the car and standing right in front of you.

His eyes traveled from your legs hanging off his hood, to your hand holding the cigarette, to your chest and lastly your face in a matter of milliseconds. A quick check out that awakened a whole new rush of adrenaline and nervousness to your body. A stare that only sent shivers down your spine, so you tried to play it cool and straighten your back, wanting to reach the level of his face.

"And how would you know?"

You made an effort not to let the conversation die. Ever since Mark told you about them and showed you photos of his friends, you had wanted to meet Yuta. Walking across him at Johnny's house or at random parties had never been enough. Firstly, because Yuta was rarely alone. And secondly, because when he was alone you would never have thought of being the first to approach him and talk to him.

Because you weren't expecting it from Yuta—the only friend of Mark that was quiet and mysterious enough that you had never struck up a conversation with—it took you a couple of seconds to process the words that came out of his mouth.

"I've been watching you." Yuta took your hand that was holding the cigarette and held it very gently in between his. Enough to notice how yours trembled.

Yuta definitely didn't have to do that to notice how anxious you were. But then you would understand how powerful his energy is and how physical contact becomes completely necessary and inevitable when he is around. That you didn't even need to say a word for him to notice you were attracted to him—you were painfully obvious around Yuta. It became ridiculous the way you lost yourself watching him talk and just mind his business. Yuta loved every second of it.

He would finally return all that attention to you later.

"You may fancy me." He took the cigarette off your hand and took a puff. "But you really, really love Mark."

You sighed deeply and looked down as you felt the heat rise and tint your cheeks. You didn't dare look at him when you spoke again. "I'm seriously that obvious?"

Yuta muttered positively and you could hear him smiling. That attractive teasing smile he always wore but paired with the softest looking eyes, that you knew could mean no harm.

"The problem is… I like Mark."

You couldn't help but laugh when you heard him, since you definitely weren't expecting that outcome. He only smiled while seeing you laugh.

"But he won't pay enough attention to me," he continued with a shrug. "So I thought, maybe you wanna do something with me after this?"

"So, I'm the second choice," you established, crossing your arms and putting on a straight face.

Yuta shook his head, still wearing his little attractive smile. "No, I was just joking," he reassured you. "I think you're interesting, and you're hot, so I wanna know you."

The cigarette came back to your hands right before Yuta was blowing all the smoke he had inhaled on your face. He was being pretty clear, you had no doubt at that point.

So you filled yourself up with a little courage, smiled big, took a puff of that nicotine and said, "Alright, we're going to mine."

"Sounds lovely."

Is the unexpected screeching of tires locking up what deafens your ears, bringing you and Yuta out of your little bubble to find another cloud of smoke blocking your view. Only seconds pass after the smoke clears into the air, and Mark's car comes to rest in line with Haechan's, giving your friend second place in the race.

It all happened way too quickly. One moment Mark was getting out of his car, violently closing its door and getting every person out of his way. The next moment he was above Haechan's body on the street, beating the life out of him.

Mark seemed uncontrollable, out of his mind. It took not only Johnny and Yuta to separate him from Haechan's bleeding face, but Jaehyun had to get out of his car and intervene as well. It was him trying to restrain Haechan's friends from coming and beating Mark, while Johnny's sister cried and screamed besides her lover, who wore that typical wicked, cynical smile on his bloody-dripping mouth. It was absolute chaos.

"I'm going to kill you! I swear to God, you won't mess with any of my friends ever again because I'll fucking kill you!"

After a lot of struggling and missed punches (that almost ended in yours and the boys' faces) coming from an extremely euphoric Mark, they managed to lock him in the back seat of Yuta's car. Johnny ordered Yuta to take him away, and that he didn't want to see his face in the neighborhood until the situation calmed down. It was a little cruel, the way he kicked Mark out of the house they shared, but you understood. Mark was still too hurt and resentful of Taeyong's death, but Johnny knew that trying to get revenge on the Lees would only start an endless war. Or maybe cause an ending that would badly hurt them again, and Johnny was tired of losing brothers.

A tall boy with a thin face and raven hair pointed to Mark, and that same index finger he rested on the skin of his neck moved across, from right to left. You're dead, but Mark wouldn't listen to it, still sitting in the back seat of the car.

"Jeno, let's leave this shitty place," Haechan said once he was back on his feet, blood spitting, staining his shirt and even the ground.

Haechan and his friends (including Johnny's sister) left with a promise to come back for them.

Johnny was on his right to get extremely mad at Mark. Because that was the exact reason he didn't do anything to Haechan in the first place, that one night he had him at gunpoint in the rain. He could've ended him right there, but he knew what would've come. And that was the difference between the Lees and the Suhs: Johnny cared for his people—because yes, Haechan was his people once, just as Taeyong was when he was alive. He didn't want anyone to get even more hurt.

So now they have to deal with the fear of the Lees coming for them, because they know the gang has become weak. Johnny doesn't have his sister anymore, he doesn't have Taeyong, he doesn't have Mark, and Yuta is barely there because he spends most of the time with you or Mark. And that guilt is eating your best friend alive.

It was dawn by the time you and Yuta tossed an exhausted Mark into the motel bed where he would spend the next few months. While he passed out as soon as he touched the mattress, you came down from the adrenaline rush in the form of shaking and crying.

That same night you brought Mark to the motel, after you put him to sleep, Yuta and you drank and smoked until you calmed down and then made out until any of you had energy to go on. You liked him and wanted everything with him. But Yuta was a very patient and understanding person. He made that clear from the very first moment you met properly.

You may fancy me, but you love Mark.

And yes, maybe fucking around with Yuta was fun from time to time, until that guilt started eating you alive.

Now you look at Yuta, laying on the motel couch centimeters from you, yet he feels like he's miles away. You think you miss him, his security and the sense of stability you had when you were with him. These days he comes to check on Mark, make sure you're both not starving, maybe share a beer or a cigarette with you, and he leaves. He still does all that even after you dropped him to fuck your best friend, that is one of his best friends too.

But when Yuta leaves you're back to your miserable hole, praying that Mark won't die from an overdose tonight, or that won't leave and come back hours later with some other girl, kicking you out so he can fuck because he's suddenly tired of the routine, then calling you at ungodly hours because he can't sleep without you.

The japanese boy calls your name. A fine film of sweat covers his smooth skin and is visible in the dim light of dawn, which filters through the hideous lace curtains. His eyes tell you that he's about to reveal that truth that you don't want to hear, but he's going to be brutally honest anyway.

"You need to get out of here."

2. I'm talking fear, fear of missing out on you and me/I don't think I could find a way to make it on this earth

Mark had always been very careful. The most careful of all, in fact—not just when it came to racing, but in every aspect of his life. When he drove, when he served customers in Johnny's garage, when he would go out with the boys and have to take care of a drunk Taeyong, he was the most careful. You know he was always very careful in the way he treated girls too, because Mark did everything with love.

It isn't fair what happened to him. It made him start doing things with fear. Fear of missing out on things, fear of losing, fear of hurting people, fear of God. You can taste the fear in him, because lately everytime you connect your lips it feels like he's kissing you for the last time ever.

He holds your face and steals a long, soft kiss from your lips. Eyes squeezed shut while he deepens it and gets his tongue to explore inside your mouth. None of it is rushed nor violent, in contrast with how he usually ends up fucking you. And you like this side of Mark, the one that kinda feels like he's doing it to you with love instead of fear, but you know you can't get too attached to it.

Or at least more attached than you already are.

Mark moves his hands from your face to your back, and caresses the skin there for a moment, before hugging the middle of your torso and pushing you flush against his. Your naked breasts collide with his equally naked chest, and his skin burns yours. He's restricting you from moving now, so he angles his hips pressing his feet on the mattress and starts thrusting up into you. It's a gentle pace, but all the alcohol and the weed in your system only make you feel him ten times intensified, ten times deeper. You tug on his long hair, bite and suck on his neck trying to contain all the sounds that want to escape from your mouth, yet the pleasure is too much and more than one manages to slip and mix with Mark's whines.

You're kinda embarrassed when you come after what feels like only five minutes that passed since you sat on top of Mark.

He feels you clench and become tight around him, so he stops his movements for a moment until you catch your breath. You know he's not done with you, just trying not to hurt you from the overstimulation. After one intense orgasm heavily loaded with feelings, you're exhausted. But this has always been about him. You need to make sure he will go back to sleeping peacefully. So you get off him and lay beside his body, before Mark takes position between your legs and buries himself inside you one more time.

He doesn't need to do much, doesn't need to say anything at all. You and him have gotten to explore each other's bodies for months now, you both know damn well that you're gonna come again, and after that you're gonna let him finish making a mess all over you.

What Mark would've never expected was seeing those thick tears run down your face, that you quickly tried to swipe off before he could ask anything about it. Even if sometimes it doesn't show, Mark loves and cares for you, so he's gonna ask anyway.

"Love," he calls for you and stops his movements. You open your eyes, lashes feeling heavy with the weight of the tears on them, and see his worried face right on top of yours. His hair is messy, his neck sweats and a silver necklace with a couple of charms hangs from it, somehow making Mark look even more attractive than usual. "I didn't hurt you, right?" A deep frown takes over his features.

You feel bad for ruining such a moment like this. You answer, shaking your head no.

"Please tell me the truth."

You shake your head no once again, wrapping your arms around him to tug and make him collapse his weight on you.

Love. The pet name replays in your head like a scratched CD and you wish you could turn it off to finally go to sleep. Mark calls your name and props himself up in his arms to look at you. He's still waiting for an explicit reply to his question.

How could you tell him that you were crying because you never felt so much love for someone in your entire life, without scaring him away? How could you explain to him that you understand it was all in your head, because you know he is too broken to even love to that same extent?

"I'm fine," you finally tell him and grab his face to give his lips one last, deep kiss. "Crying 'cause it's too good."

He shows a subtle smile and makes an effort to observe how the morning light illuminates your skin, with his eyes full of sleep, drunk on alcohol and your body and barely open. It's an image he wants to remember because, for some reason, it also feels to him like it could be the last time he gets to be with you like this.

"You sure?"

You nod and smile subtly in response, and move his fingers to make him touch you, in hope you can overcome the pain of loving too hard with the pleasure.

"Wanna give me one more?" His lips get your neck and collarbones all wet while he works on bringing you to the edge. His name manages to come out of your mouth in between gasps. "The last one?"

After both of you finally finish, Mark collapses on your side, half of his body still curled up to you, and calls your name softly. You hear his voice getting filled with fatigue.

"Mhm?"

"Thank you," he says in a whisper. Next thing you know, his breathing has become heavy again and his little snores can be heard in the silent motel room.

The story repeats itself, and you curse yourself and despair for not being able to even shut your eyes closed when you're exhausted. You're overthinking again. Hours go by with barely a couple of hours of sleep, and soon you have to get up to leave food ready for Mark and continue with your life outside these four walls.

3. Permission to crash, collecting damages, boy

The metal stairs creak under your shoes as you go up to the motel room, carefully not to slip because of the night's drizzle. The walk to the room where Mark has been staying feels longer than usual, maybe because you're extremely tired, and don't even remember the last time you got to sleep for an entire night by now, always interrupted by something—if it isn't because of Mark's nightmares, it's because you're either out with him and friends or catching up with missed work instead of sleeping. You can't wait to make it through his door, find him sleeping (with a little luck) and pass out on his bed beside him.

That old clock hanging on the wall indicates 10:27 p.m.. Inside, the room is extremely quiet. If it weren't for the mess around every surface, and the image of Mark's legs knocked out on the bed that you can perceive through a thin curtain separating the bedroom and the common area, you would believe the space is completely empty, abandoned.

The small table that Mark uses to eat is almost imperceptible for all the garbage that has accumulated there. Empty beer bottles, packs with leftover food, cigarettes, dirty napkins, his car keys and even some clothes cover the surface. You wonder how Mark continues to use the table when you're not there, or if he's just using it to leave stuff .

The delivery bags will serve to collect all the waste and clean up the environment a bit. Your friend has been going through a difficult time for a while now, and of course it's hard for him to do simple tasks like keeping the place where he lives clean and tidy. You don't even think about it much when you propose yourself to give him a helping hand while he sleeps; throwing everything that seems useless and dirty into the bags, and leaving it in the bins on the street. You hope Mark will feel more uplifted when he wakes up, finding himself in a slightly nicer, more livable place.

He's in a deep sleep leaning on his side, and watching him breaks your heart. You like it when Mark sleeps naturally. Even when he passes out from being extremely exhausted, you prefer it instead of when he goes to sleep after injecting that destructive drug right into his veins. On his bedside table is the glass syringe, the lighter, the aluminum foil. On the floor, in the space between the rickety bed and the little table, a plate with lines of half-consumed cocaine and the belt of his pants.

He doesn't even care enough to hide it anymore. It breaks your heart some more.

In an impulsive act, you grab whatever is there that has been destroying him, Yuta and you. Everything that has been making life difficult for everyone, ever since Taeyong left, since Johnny kicked Mark out, and your friend fell even harder into that pit.

You flush it down the toilet. Tears run down your cheeks, and the sound of the water taking everything down the drain mixes with your sobs. At the same time, the lights from the garbage truck outside the motel come in through the bedroom window, blinding your view a bit. Nothing is left.

With shaky hands, you open the window and light up a cigarette, in hope of calming down a little. Every day that passes is becoming harder to understand how you made it this far. You can't imagine how worse it could be if you weren't there for him, or if Yuta wasn't with Mark too.

One cigarette is consumed after another, until the ashtray is almost full and you stop because your chest starts to hurt. Mark's voice is present in the room; he calls your name dragging it full of confusion.

Here begins the story of how everything you two once were ended in a few minutes, too fast. Or perhaps the fall was anticipated, but no one knew how to cushion it.

"What happened here?" he asks hoarsely, clearly struggling to fully open his eyes, despite the place being subtly illuminated by the street lights peeking through the windows.

"Just did a little cleaning," you answer, letting the smoke out of your lungs. You said to yourself it would be the last one of the night, but something about the situation is making you slightly anxious.

Mark only nods in response and keeps turning around in his place, taking everything in. He ruffles his head in a poor attempt at fixing the bed hair, scratches the back of neck down to his arm. It's nerve-wracking—seeing him act so natural after having passed out for you don't know how many hours, at the risk of overdosing and dying alone, choking on his own vomit.

It fills you with rage inside how inconsiderate he's been lately, but you're exhausted and don't plan on fighting tonight.

"You coming back to bed?"

"No, sorry," he says when you're already on your way to the bedroom. The clarity in his voice tone indicates to you he's wide awake now. "I have a race in like an hour or so."

You sit on his side of the bed to finally take your shoes off and start undressing. A heavy sigh unconsciously escapes you, and you have to ask him. You've been thinking for a couple weeks now that it would be good for him if he just left the racing scene, only for a while until he fully recovers from all the pain he's gone through. If it all started with it, the answer should be there too, ending it.

"Why do you do that?" You watch his figure enter the room. "Why do you keep racing?" Your questions come out a little exasperated, the tiredness getting the worst out of you even when you don't mean to sound rude.

"Why do I keep racing? How do you think I'm paying for the fucking expenses right here?"

His tone disorients you for a moment, making you believe that your question may, in fact, have been inappropriate. "Sorry, I just- I just thought you could get a job that makes you feel a little more normal, you know?" you propose, almost as if you're afraid of how he might react. "Give you a routine, make you feel better."

"No," he answers quickly, shaking his head low. "Racing is the only thing that makes me feel alive right now. That, and"– he doesn't finish his sentence. Instead, he gulps dryly and keeps his thoughts only for himself.

You know it's better not to push it. Because he's not good with words, and because you don't think you're capable of dealing with whatever other emotions Mark could be going through right now.

You love Mark endlessly. You're sure the only thing that's wrong right now is that work drained you. You could have this conversation in the morning.

"And you? Why do you do it?" he decides to ask without looking you in the eye.

"What do you mean?"

"Why do you keep playing with Yuta and me at the same time?"

The question makes your heart stop and your stomach turn, but you try not to show it.

"That's seriously the last thing I needed to hear today."

You finish saying the sentence and move to the bathroom to quickly brush your teeth, ignoring the eyes of Mark following you from his spot in the bedroom. Too familiar with his look on you only wearing your underwear. Too used to Mark's bad mood after putting substances into his body until he falls unconscious. Too guilty because, in fact, you've been feeling confused about the two boys.

"I know you like him. I– I can feel it. I saw you laying so close early, saw the way you looked at him."

It makes your head hurt, and you squeeze your eyes shut trying to, somehow, ease the pain away. Yes, of course there has always been something about Yuta. Something about the calmness and security you feel when you're together. Something about the love you see he has for Mark that you wish someone had for you. Something about his kisses and touches and the look in his eyes that feel safe. Because Mark was your best friend once, your unconditional support; you were each other's until you weren't anymore. You just started to take care of him and to fall for him harder, and harder. You only became his while you lost him and he lost himself in the process. But Yuta somehow was there to make it easier for you, and numb a little part of the pain away.

You still love Mark endlessly, but he's not good for you. You don't love Yuta, but he feels like the right one for you. And you know their brotherhood might come before your friendship—with any of them. You can't ruin that for them only because you can't decide between the two boys.

It's always been easier to ignore all that.

"Can we just– not have this conversation?"

"Are you fucking him too?"

"I'm not." You look up to him as you accommodate yourself on the bed once again, rage filling your insides for the second time that night. "And what the fuck do you care, huh? The fuck do you care about me?"

"I care because I thought you were with me?" he asks, a tone of disbelief in his voice.

"Mark, we never agreed on being exclusive. We didn't even talk this out. We just started fucking because you were too fucking selfish and couldn't even notice what actually happens here"– you get interrupted by him calling your name.

His eyes are fixed on the nightstand that you emptied while he was passed out. And you swallow dryly, afraid to say a word. You can't imagine what he's going to say to you but, from his look, you can be sure it's not nice at all.

"You did a little cleaning," he repeats.

The room stays quiet. Mark starts looking for something around the nightstand—over it, behind it, under the little furniture and in the space around it. Frantically. And calls your name again. This time his voice is shaky, and when he looks at you he's at the verge of tearing up.

You imagined throwing all his drugs away would be hard for him. A risky move. All kinds of reactions were expected.

"Where is Taeyong's necklace?"

"Huh?" discomposure shows in your tone.

"Taeyong's necklace! It was right here, on the nightstand."

You remain quiet while observing him starting to look around the entire motel room. His body has got all tensed up and began shaking in consequence. He empties the drawers, the bags with his clothes, takes the bedsheets off, makes you move to turn the bed and the pillows upside down and checks inside the bathroom too. There's only curses coming out of his mouth and his voice breaks more and more, starting to sob like a little kid in front of your eyes when he realizes the object he's looking for is nowhere around.

He yells your name to get your attention but it only scares you even more. You're terrified of telling him, because you know you've really screwed up this time.

Meeting his teary eyes, yours fill with tears too.

"Mark," you call for him but he's already looking at you, waiting for an explanation.

You remember it now. It had been standing over the little table since you got here for the first time, but you never paid much mind to it—a silver chain that ended in a small cross and a rose, Chrome Hearts style. And that was Taeyong's favorite brand. Mark rarely wears jewelry, yet you have a vague memory of it hanging off his neck the last time you were together. It takes you a second to put two and two together; your heart finally ends up breaking into two pieces.

"I'm sorry." The tears reach your chin. "I took all the trash out."

Mark follows your finger pointing to the window, from which you can see the large garbage containers on the side of the street. Then he turns his head to the left, in the direction of the clock that reads almost twelve at night. He knows that the truck comes around eleven at night to collect all the bags, and he almost always misses it because he's sleeping and ends up accumulating all the trash in the room. Both you and him know everything is gone by the time, including Mark's memory of Taeyong.

He breaks into a desperate cry, which pierces the air and makes your ears and chest ache with his grief. It's so full of anguish, like you've never seen him before, not even when you were burying his friend together.

It takes him to the ground and makes him roll and move, tug at his clothes and his hair violently like he's trying to take the pain off his body, trying to escape the misery. You try to reach out to him to try and comfort him, still a bit in shock since you were the one that caused him this pain. But he doesn't want you near him; he lets you know by slapping you away from his body and throwing everything he finds around him in your direction.

So you step back, clearly afraid he might hurt you in this state. Mark can sense the fear, and the last thing he wants in the world is to hurt you and put you away from him too. Losing you like it happened with his childhood best friend Donghyuck, like it happened with Taeyong, like it happened with Johnny. But he can't tell you. Nothing can come out of his mouth more than those uncontrollably sobs and screams of pain. He can't clear his mind right now.

"I'm sorry," you keep saying while you get dressed and start picking up your things in a rush. "I'm sorry, please forgive me."

He's sitting on the floor, legs curled up to his chest, back to the end of the bed while his arms hang limb to his sides, defeated and body drained from all its energy. His entire face is wet with sweat and tears, and he cries looking at the dirty ceiling.

When you've already left and find yourself in the open corridor, a few room's down from Mark's, guilt washes over your body: you too left him alone, just like you know he's scared of. You manage to take your phone out of your pocket and dial the first number on your recents list with shaky hands.

The need to cry only increases when you hear his voice on the other side of the phone.

"Can you please come by Mark's? Please?" You cover your mouth with one hand trying to hold back the sobs. "I can't deal with this anymore, Yuta. I'm sorry. It's–Mark and I are never gonna work out. It's out of control–"

"Take your car and come home," his voice is soft and calm, despite the rushing sounds in the background. You know he's dropping everything to go where Mark is staying. "Come home and wait for me here, no matter how long it takes."

You nod in response, even when Yuta can't see you through the call.

"And don't worry about Mark, I got him."

4. Gotta let you go/Since you've been gone I've been having withdrawal

The dead had to be visited when they were alive, was what your mother used to say when you were little. The cemetery was never a place that she liked very much, for she never took you to visit and leave flowers for your old, dead uncles and grandparents.

You believe your mother's rejection of the dead had to do with the fear of death itself. The refusal to accept the inevitable: we will all end up right here one day. Under different circumstances, ones having lived longer than others, but dead at last. Even though you believed you had no problem accepting this, entering the place on this spring morning was becoming incredibly difficult. While it's normal to have grandparents dead when you grow up, it never feels normal to lose someone so close to your age.

You can't expect to meet anyone in particular, but you know that at least the vast majority of his friends will be there. It's the anniversary of Taeyong's death, and the morning is fresh. The sun is shining and the roses planted in the park have bloomed, as if they knew they were his favorites. This should be reason enough to walk through the gates and go lay out some flowers for him, as a way of saying thank you for such a splendid day.

The walk up to the place is quiet enough to boggle your mind a bit. The last couple of months you've been working on yourself, trying to stop overthinking things and rebuilding your self-esteem little by little. Mark and you haven't seen each other again after that big fight and after you left the place he was staying. Yuta did God's work that night, and you know Johnny and the rest of the guys helped him the following days—and months. You just stayed out of it. No one really wanted it, no one agreed to it. But it naturally happened, because deep down both of you knew it was the best outcome. Mark understood you had to go away in order for both of you to heal.

It wasn't an easy process.

"Am I a bad person for doing this to him?"

"Well, it's hard to tell what's good or bad, because it depends on who's saying it," the therapist replied.

You looked down as soon as he started talking to you, avoiding his eyes. You remember that you thought you were not going to cry in your first session, that it was going to be difficult to let go and talk about everything that had been hurting you lately. However, as soon as you sat down on his couch, tears began to roll down your cheeks.

"But how do your decisions make you feel?"

"I feel selfish."

It took you a while to learn that looking after yourself wasn't a selfish thing to do, but a completely valid way to maintain your sanity. That you needed to set boundaries with the people you love the most, because even they might hurt you, and because you might end up hurting yourself. It doesn't necessarily mean they are bad people that want to cause you pain, but humans that make mistakes and that are constantly learning how to deal with each other.

Pain is needed. Boundaries are needed. Communication is needed. Self-love is needed. We learn some of the most valuable things of life from all that.

Johnny is the first one to see you arrive. He receives you in silence, with a small smile and a hug. The next to repeat his actions is Jaehyun. Finally, Yuta presses you against his torso and you stay like that for a little longer. The soft skin of his arms envelops you; it's warm and he feels just as safe as you remember. His scent is an odd combination of cotton softener, a manly scent of pine, and cigarettes.

You will be the most grateful to Yuta, forever. He knew where you belonged from the beginning, and helped you clarify your mind to come here and speak to Mark. Not expecting anything, but knowing that whatever would result from that talk should be the best for the two of you.

You can perceive his heart is beating fast, but definitely not as fast as yours when Yuta breaks the hug, looks into your eyes and then to Mark, who is still sitting in front of Taeyong's grave and oblivious to everything that is happening behind him.

The concrete of the bench feels considerably cold compared to the rest of the environment when you sit next to him. There's a moment when you just dedicate yourself to reading Taeyong's name, over and over again on the plate.

It hasn't been easy and it will never be. It makes you rethink things. Decisions, habits, vices, relations. Coming to terms with the death of someone so close to your age. It could be any of you at any moment, so you guess your mother was right: spend time with your loved ones as much as you can while they're alive.

Mark's eyes grow heavy on your profile and you are forced to meet them. He definitely looks healthier. He has recovered some weight, his dark circles have almost completely disappeared, and his hair is back to its natural color, sporting a fresh undercut.

Most impressive, however, is the way he smiles at you and proceeds to lay his head on your shoulder. He lets out a sigh and somehow you feel relieved—he's not mad at you. In fact, he seems to feel fine, comfortable enough to approach you like that. You can't help but let out a deep sigh as well.

He's the first one to talk since you arrived.

"Hi."

"Hi," you reply, almost in a whisper. As if you were to raise your voice, all that harmony would dissipate in an instant.

"I wasn't expecting you." You feel Mark's voice vibrate through your body and reach your ears. It sends a shiver down your spine.

You have missed him so much. The past months have truly been a torture, but you didnt realize how much you needed to feel him this close, to listen to his voice, until this very moment.

"I was hesitant to come."

Mark lifts his head from your shoulder and stares at you for what seems like a minute or two. In a profound way, as if he was looking for something in your eyes, but as if he was gathering the courage to open his mouth and break your heart once and for all, giving this story a true closure. Perhaps about to do what should have happened a long time ago.

He just nods and says, "I'm sorry."

And you wait for it to come. For him to tell you that he's fully recovered now, that he doesn't need you, that you can go and live your life freely with whoever you want and that he will do the same.

"You know that night… The night we had the fight."

"Yes?"

"I said racing was the only thing making me feel alive."

You don't remember it so clearly at first. That night was quite traumatic, so you have to recapitulate and swallow the lump that forms in your throat remembering the events, and how everything about your relationship with Mark exploded in your face.

"I lied," he continues after a pause. "It was being with you. And I was afraid of hurting you and losing you, and I didn't want to lose you because you were the most important thing I had. But that's what ended up happening and–"

Mark can't finish his sentence, so he takes a deep breath. A cigarette appears between his lips, and it's when he struggles to light it up when you notice how abstained he is and how hard he's fighting it, by the incessant shaking of his hands and his sweating. He lets the smoke out of his lungs looking at the grave, remaining silent until he decides he's calmed down enough.

"I really loved you at that time," Mark says and shares the cigarette with you. "I–I still do. I really, seriously don't need you to take care of me anymore. But I want you to be with me."

He says this last sentence reconnecting with your eyes, looking at you the same way he did earlier, when you expected him to break your heart for good. He turns over his shoulder and looks at the boys one by one, who have been watching your exchange in silence until now.

"All of you," and he finishes.

Johnny pats Mark's shoulder and smiles fondly at him, giving him a little squeeze of comfort. "You'll always have us, no matter what happens."

5. Loving you almost feels like something

"And with this," Johnny starts as he places the last box at the entry of your apartment, "I get closer to being completely free for once."

"Dude," Mark tries and fails to sound upset, "can you not be so happy about me leaving your place? You're making me hurt. Like, you could at least lie about you being sad or missing me."

"But I never lie."

Jaehyun's deep laugh is present next to Johnny and he decides to speak, looking at Mark who is now hung up on you, more and more affectionate with you in front of the boys since you formalized your relationship.

"Baby's leaving the nest. Now it's just you and me, Johnny."

Since Mark was moving in with you and Yuta was leaving for Japan, it only left Jaehyun and Johnny at the Suhs' old house. The oldest was happy, because it meant he wouldn't have other three boys going in and out of the place carelessly every time he tries to bring other people home. Johnny loved the boys enormously, but they were all grown now. Maybe it was time they all found their own place to live and just do whatever they want. Jaehyun, however, seems like has no plans of leaving Johnny alone, at least for a little longer.

"Maybe we should become a married couple."

Johnny questions Jaehyun with his eyes for a couple seconds, but after what seemed like the gears of his brain working at full speed, he ends up agreeing. "That could be pretty convenient, actually. Would you cook for me?"

"You know I don't cook."

"Then forget about it."

You and Mark watch the exchange from the outside and can't help but laugh, because they're basically acting like an old married couple already.

"Alright guys," Mark claps his hands to get the boys' attention. "Thank you so much for your help, but I'll be kicking you out now to go celebrate with my girl. You know, all that boyfriend and girlfriend stuff…" He accompanied them with gestures, telling them to walk through the front door.

"Yes, we get it Mark," Johnny answered in a mocking tone. "You've got a girlfriend and you're fucking on every surface of this apartment. And I'm leaving with Jae, and we're getting stoned and going to sleep at seven. So much fun."

"Fuck you, John. Mark, work tomorrow, seven in the morning." Is all Jaehyun says as he leaves your apartment, only to keep bickering with Johnny all the way to the car.

As the afternoon sun falls and filters through the balcony door, the aroma of onion and tomatoes fills the small kitchen and your nostrils, making your stomach rumble a little. The melody of a guitar reaches your ears; it sounds soft and melancholic, the scratching of the fingers against the strings only gives it a rawer tone. You decide to leave the sauce finishing simmering, and you approach the room that you will now be sharing with Mark. You find him sitting there, on the bed, guitar in hand, facing the window with his back to the door. His subtle singing accompanies the chords on the guitar.

You can't remember when was the last time you saw Mark like this. So calm and relaxed. Music has always been his passion, ever since you met him in high school, so seeing him take up the hobby he loves so much and enjoy it brings tears to your eyes.

The words that come out of his mouth form a lump in your throat.

When no ones around me, you lost and found me

I was surrounded

With open arms

He keeps playing and singing softly, without noticing your presence.

Even though it's only been a couple of hours since you finished moving, he's already made your room a bit of his own. It seems that he has stopped in the middle of the task, that he amused himself with the guitar because most of the boxes of clothes are unpacked, the side of the wardrobe that you freed for him with only a couple of blue jeans and t-shirts in place.

On the night table rests Mark's perfume, an ashtray along with his cigarette box, and a couple of books under it. There are two sets of matching keys besides the table now—you had to make a copy for him, since it's his house too. His shoes are at the front door, and they will remain there every day. And Mark's slippers are on the edge of the bed you'll share, next to an open shoe box that catches your eye.

"What is this?"

Mark turns around to look at your face, then at the film camera and a bunch of developed pictures in your hands. A fond smile takes over his mouth.

"Taeyong was a romantic," he says, coming to stand next to you and starting to inspect the pictures. "You know, when he left we decided to divide the things that were important to Taeyong," Mark kept explaining to you. "We gotta fulfill his dreams, keep him alive that way."

"And what are you doing for Taeyong?"

"I'm dropping everything for love. For a calm and happy life."

The answer takes you by surprise, you can't hide it. The tears that had begun to accumulate since you heard Mark sing on the guitar come to the edge of your eyelids, uncontrollable, and threaten to fall at any moment.

"You know Taeyong loved danger and drama… But he really wanted to settle down with someone at some point," he continues speaking immediately. "And I kept these.

Mark takes all the developed films from your hands and starts looking at them with you. Shortly after, he says, "He loved to document the happy moments.

The pictures show various scenarios and all the boys are in there. In some pics it's just Johnny smiling under the sun, in others it's just Mark and Taeyong on a night's out, in others there's Jaehyun having breakfast with Taeyong, or Yuta and Mark acting foolish, totally like Yuta and Mark.

"But if you notice, it's just us living life together," he finishes the idea, melancholy invading his face, and his eyes also fill with tears.

However, you are sure that none of you are really sad. In fact, the horizon has never looked so bright for the two of you. There is no more fear, no more guilt, no more uncertainty.

"I think this is a happy moment," you say, picking up the camera and turning it on. "You and me together, settling down for a good life. You think Taeyong would've documented this?"

Mark smiles big and nods.

"Yeah, I think he would have."

After focusing on Mark in front of the camera, and with the evening light behind him painting the whole room a warm orange, you press the shutter. A not very powerful flash comes out of the camera, but it does its work illuminating those parts the warm light won't reach, and it indicates that the photo has been taken. Mark asks for the camera and does the exact same for you.

"I'm sure he's happy, and really proud of you, Mark," you say as you wrap your arms around his body.

Your ear on his chest even allows you to hear his heartbeat, which is unusually fast. Mark takes a big breath of air that moves his entire body and yours, also trapped in his arms. A warm feeling invades you, embraces your heart and awakens butterflies in your stomach. His heartbeat becomes softer, and his voice, smooth but full of honesty and pride, resonates throughout your body.

"Thank you. Thank you so much."

Mark was once the most careful of all. An incredibly strong and humble young man that thought could have the world in his hands. He had to completely lose control over everything he knew once to know fear, to know grief, to know guilt, to finally find healthy love and forgiveness. To others, but most important to himself.

"But, babe," Mark breaks the hug to raise his head and sniff in the direction of the kitchen. "Don't you think something is burning?"

"Shit!" you exclaim and bolt for the kitchen. "The tomato sauce!"

"Yeah, that's why I didn't take Taeyong's dream to pursue cooking." He crosses his arms and rests his body in the doorway, while you fight to save a burnt, almost brown colored tomato sauce by adding a little more puree and water. "I can't cook either."

You quit trying to deal with the sauce. It looks irreparable anyway. "Yeah… Sorry about that, baby."

"We will survive." Mark shrugs, then comes to kiss you affectionately on the cheek. "Wanna order some pizza?"

Thank you so much for reading. If you enjoyed my work, please leave a like, reblog or some feedback. I'd love to read your thoughts!

#nct fanfic #mark lee x reader #mark lee fanfic #mark x reader #zh-lele #candy colored cars #too fast #nct 127 fanfic #mark lee smut #nct smut

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thatsatricky1 · 1 month

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𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐭 || ‘𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞’ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Eight of the top ten most popular players in Korea are invited to be the first people to test out the newest device and gameplay by NEO a video game company known as of recent to be the best of the best. An opportunity of a life time handed to them to be able to trial and get a contract to promote it later on. The eight couldn’t resist as they gladly accepted the invitation. Not being able to predict what was to come. A trail test that wouldn’t just be focused on graphics and playablity, no this would test relationships, strength, resolve and many more unpredictable things.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Nct Dream ot7 x Reader

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: Angst, Fantasy, Fluff, Gaming, Humour, Romance, Smut (in future chapters), Thriller.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6,5k+

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Cursing, mentions of mild violence (y’all its like one playful punch)

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: This does not depict an accurate picture of Nct Dream and this is strictly fantasy/fiction for entertainment purposes.

“Welcome to Neo, I’m thankful for all of you to be able to come here with your busy schedules at such a late time of the day, even if this is usually the peak hour you work anyway.” A man, the Ceo of Neo clasped his hands together, a grin forming on his face as he addressed the eight figures seated around a retro meeting office room.

Taking a step forward at the head of the table it gave the eight stream and popular gaming players a good look at what he was wearing. Wearing a very fashionable style of clothes that fit with the Neo image, a young generation focused company.

“The reason for you being in the Neo building instead of sitting comfortably at home is because we want to run the first trial here in our very own headquarters. To ensure your safety and comfort while in game, just for the first time. If everything runs smoothly you’ll be able to continue the trials in your own personal spaces in whatever time schedule you all can agree on.” Taeyong explained the reason as to why it needed to be done in person toda before the devices and game could be used in their own apartments.

“I’ve heard from my people you’ve all asked your questions on things like contracted hours, sponsorship bonuses and the whole boring stuff. So why don’t we get to the interesting part, hm?” Taeyong finally unclamping his hands giving the young adults a smirk at their reactions while workers entered with a device.

“This.” Taeyong started speaking, holding his hand out as someone placed the tech wear headgear into his hand before he continued on “Is what you’ll all be wearing during the trials. Designed for comfort around the head and of course aesthetically pleasing to the eyes, I do hope no one minds that I’ve assigned each of you different coloured versions.”

The eight gamers leaning forward in their seats inspect the well made and foreign looking tech wear like headgear. A few showing excitement, others wariness and the rest a mix of both. Taeyong observed their reactions before he tapped his finger against the headgear absentmindedly.

“Well, to put it simply and go over it again just in case no one read the papers we sent out, which is understandable reading can be a drag. The headgear is safe and has been tested out already thoroughly, we already have a safety rating of five… out of five.”

“For the first time you get to wear it, someone will put it on for you. Then later on you’ll receive instructions on how to do it yourselves in future at home. I hope it is okay that you’ll all be using recliner chairs today instead of laying down, your bodies won’t be disturbed during your time in the game.”

“Now, enough talking. Who’s ready to play?” Taeyong finished his monologue with a tilted grin on his face as he raised an eyebrow towards his newly acquired team of well seasoned and popular gamers.

“Lead the way.” Mark was the one to speak for all eight of them giving the go ahead.

“Enthusiasm, I love it.” Taeyong replied spinning on his heels to leave the room expecting the eight to follow.

“This is some futuristic shit right here.” Donghyuck whispered where he stood with the group watching people set up and prepare the lounge they would be, while under during the game play.

“And we’re the first ones to get to experience it.” Jaemin moved to wrap his arms over both Jeno and Renjun’s shoulders as he pointed out their newest achievement.

“Let’s hope nothing weird happens and Donghyuck over here loses his last brain cell.” Renjun joked out, his friend opening his mouth to let out a retort but was cut off by the Ceo, Taeyong clapping his hands once leaving them clasped, an obvious habit at this point.

“So, everything is set up, please take a seat where your name card is, it has your gaming tag names on it. You’ll be geared up soon.” His words causing the young gamers to share glances.

Y/n being the first to move forward, spotting her gamer name tag easily, the others following as they found their respected spots.

Everyone sinking into the comfortable recliner seat awaiting. Y/n eyes shifting to watch the person beside her getting her tech wear headgear ready, before looking over the the recliner next to her to see Chenle lounging there looking bored out of his mind waiting, his feet swinging.

The corner of her lips tilting up in clear amusement before looking ahead of her to see Jisung, eyeing the way his hands gripped the recliner chairs armrests tightly most likely overthinking his position, the two catching eyes.

‘Relax, we are right here.’ She mouthed to him, nodding in Chenle’s direction to show they were only a few paces away in their chairs.

Jisung seemingly was able to understand what she mouthed as he relaxed slightly into the recliner, swallowing as his fingers smoothed out from their cramped position. Y/n giving him a small smile at him trying to calm down.

“Alright, try to move around too much while they put your headgear on, they’ll adjust it to be even more comfortable.” Taeyong’s voice diverted all eight of their attention.

Y/n doing her best not to flinch when the woman next to her got into her personal space, the techwear headgear in hand. Taking a deep inhale through her nose as the woman moved to place the headgear over her head. Her eye’s automatically fluttered shut at the sensation of something enclosing around her.

Though as the woman adjusted the headgear, it barely felt like she was wearing anything, only reminded she was by the slight weight difference then normal. Eye’s peeking open to watch the woman continue working only to flicker to the side subconsciously checking on her friends.

It had only taken two minutes for everyone’s headgear to be adjusted correctly before the people around then stood back. Taeyong leisurely strolling around watching, an amused smile etched on his face at the different reactions the eight had to the headgear, remembering it for later to write down for his notes.

“Alright, I’m assuming everyone is ready, the headgear has all been applied correctly. Now don’t get shocked, you’ll all hear a voice through your headsets that will count down from ten, a timer if you will, to let you know when you’ll be entered into the game.” Taeyong explained while moving around the room.

“How do we know if it worked?” Jaemin asked out from where he was reclined back comfortably, hand tapping against the armrest out of habit, used to moving his hands.

“Trust me you’ll know.” Taeyong hummed out shaking his head amused by the question as if it had been a funny joke.

“Doyoung please start the countdown.” Taeyong nodded towards someone further away in the lounge near what looked like a normal high quality Pc setup.

“Hello this is Neo, you will be transported into Project Impact after the ten second countdown is complete. Enjoy the journey, have fun and don’t forget Neo is always with you every step of the way.” A female voice rang through all eight headgears.

“Ten.”

“We just got warned but her voice nearly gave me a heart attack.” Renjun huffed out, gaining a laugh from Chenle.

“Nine.”

“Don’t worry Renjun, no need to die in real life, I bet you’ll be the first out in the game.” Chenle barked out, his high pitched laugh following.

“Seven.”

“Careful Lele, Renjun might just throw in pettiness if you keep that up.” Donghyuck joined in on teasing Renjun.

“Six.”

“No one is throwing.” Mark sternly warned out to everyone, wincing at the thought of how that would look in Taeyong’s eyes after giving them such a good contract.

“Who did the voiceover? She sounds familiar.” Jaemin asked out to no one in particular.

“Five.”

“Of course the first thing you say about the game we haven’t entered yet is about a woman.” Jeno quipped from beside Jaemin.

“Four.”

“Woman supremacy.” Jaemin replied with a large grin shrugging even if Jeno wasn’t looking at him, his speech slightly slurring being hit by a wave of tiredness.

“Four.”

“For once you said something right Nana.” Y/n spoke out from her side of the room, not bothering to look over at him as she felt so comfortable all of a sudden as if her body was sinking into the recliner.

“Three.”

“My eyes feel heavy.” Jisung barely managed to slur out, eyes falling shut only for him to try snapping them back open multiple times not being able to fight the sleepiness looming around him.

“Two.”

“Hmm mmm.” Renjun hummed out wanting to say something but his lips wouldn’t move in favour of staying closed as his eyes followed suit closing on themselves.

“One.”

“One.” Taeyong whispered to himself repeating the animated woman’s voice with her gazing intensely at the young adults who were all still.

“This will be fun.” Taeyong’s grin returned, turning to stroll his way over to where Doyoung sat, eyeing the screens, rubbing his hands in anticipation.

“Welcome home Player 1, Mork.”

“Welcome home Player 2, Injeolmi.”

“Welcome home Player 3, SamoyedJ.”

“Welcome home Player 4, Fullsun.”

“Welcome home Player 5, Nana.”

“Welcome home Player 6, Dolphinlele.”

“Welcome home Player 7, Jwijwi.”

“Welcome home Player 8, T/n.”

Each individual player hearing their own greetings and not each other as they all laid spawned into random locations of the room, some in sitting positions while others had been laying.

Mark’s eyes snapping open as he took in his surroundings, alarm bells blaring once he did not feel or have impaired vision from the headgear, hands fling up to feel nothing covering his face.

Freezing at the realisation he could feel and touch himself as if it was real, taking in a deep breath. Body flying up from the couch he’d been sitting on, swearing he had felt the leather against his hands as he pushed off the seat with his hands.

“Holy shit it’s like we are really here, like this is just normal life.” Donghyuck’s voice grabbed Mark's attention as he looked over to see his friend getting up from where he’d been laying on the wooden floor.

“It’s so realistic that it’s creepy.” Renjun muttered a shiver running down his back at how one second he felt as though he was going into a deep state of sleep but the next he was wide awake in a whole new setting.

“It’s like a dream, but I can feel everything.” Jisung gasped out in wonder from where he sat on the wooden floor next to Donghyuck, moving to touch the leg of the table next to him curiously.

“It looks like I’m seeing you all exactly like beforehand, no shitty graphics.” Chenle commented on the next hyper realistic part of this all. It was unlike any video game not animated aspects, like they’d been transported into a film instead.

“You mean I still have to see all your faces in high definition, what a shame I thought my eyes could take a break.” Y/n joked out to keep herself from freaking out at how realistic everything seemed.

“I’m going to pretend you meant that as a compliment and not a dis.” Jaemin muttered moving to stretch his body, groaning as his back popped satisfyingly another weird realistic feature.

“Welcome Players, this is your home base. Once you entered Project Impact this house was chosen based on your internet personas and has been automatically set as your respawning point.” The female’s voice floated in the air as if right in front of them yet was actually being transmitted through their headgear back in reality.

“Each player has a private room that has been modeled exactly like your own bedrooms from what we already know about you, courtesy of our lovely Ceo of Neo as a sort of gift, not all players will receive such a gift, the rest of the house is based on your aesthetic taste preferences combined.” The voice continued.

“Well that’s not entirely concerning or creepy.” Renjun muttered.

“Over time you will be able to renovate and change things in your homebase. This goes for your own appearance too. Your overall body types and facial features will stay true to your real selves but customisable areas include things such as eye colour, hair colour and hairstyle, accessories and wardrobe clothing items.”

“Once again Ceo of Neo has gifted you with some of your most known wardrobe clothing and accessories items you wear on stream and in daily life through social media already, with a couple of extra clothing items added in for some flair.”

“As per what has been already discussed, you will be going into the game blind, not knowing what exactly the game play is focused on or rather how many possibilities are in store for you all here at Project Impact. With that I will leave you with a good luck, have fun exploring and if you need help don’t be shy and request it.”

With that the eight were left in silence before a sudden song floated through a speaker nearby, a pop song that had been recently charting at a nice low volume.

“Fuck me, this is going to be so much fun.” Donghyuck cheered flopping onto the beige couch nearby, accidentally tugging Mark to fall onto the couch with him, Mark grunting having felt the impact.

“You’ve got blue hair again Jisung!” Chenle cackled, pointing at the confused friend who rushed over to a mirror, his own eyes widening at the fact he did indeed have his old hairstyle back.

Jisung had dyed his whole head of hair blue after passing a sub count on his stream a few months prior, having gained the nickname blueberry from it. He remembered the way he’d gotten his hair bleached at a hair salon but streamed at home with Chenle and Y/n as they helped lather his hair in the rich blue colour. He’d only recently dyed it back to brown.

“Guess Taeyong liked your blue hair better on you, Blueberry.” Y/n chimed in on the teasing as he groaned at the nickname popping up.

“I think we were loaded in with in-game clothing items.” Jeno observed looking down at his outfit in interest. Wearing a striped knitted sweater underneath a block blue coloured long sleeve, with fashionable blue flared jeans with added random rips and converse shoes. His own personal necklace he wore often, one he’d worn today was still hanging from his neck with an added ring on his finger.

“You think? I don’t wear leather jackets.” Renjun snarked out towards Jeno shifting his shoulders back at the leather feeling against him. Renjun had a layered white, purple shirt with black mesh over it and a leather Neo logo’d leather jacket paired with black denim shorts, white calf height socks and black white sneakers. Not yet noticing the added necklaces and ring lip piercing on him.

“We can figure out how to change our hair and clothing later, we should look around first.” Mark suggested getting a round of agreement from the rest as they dispersed around their so-called homebase.

Y/n made her way down another hallway, feet stopping at a door that caught her attention, the door and doorframe itself familiar. It looked exactly like her own in her apartment. Raising an eyebrow at it, wondering just how extensively had Taeyong put research into their lives. He must have been confident in them agreeing to the contract as it had been only a month since they’d signed the deal which wouldn’t have been long enough to go into this type of meticulous work.

Shaking away the thoughts she grabbed the door handle pulling down on it before pushing the door inwards revealing her room. Her jaw nearly dropped at the sight in front of her own eyes. It was scarily accurate to her own room, she’d vlogged her room before so she shouldn’t be too surprised but it was still something her head had trouble processing.

A few items were not there, which was understandable as not everything could be placed in the game in precise accuracy but it was still very much what her room looked like. Entering the room properly now as she moved around the room until she saw her closet.

Rushing over and pushing the door open to be met with familiar and new clothing items.

“Wardrobe Unlocked.” The female voice floated through her head as she moved to touch different clothing items.

“This is way too realistic.” She muttered to herself as her fingers grazed over one of her favourite hoodies, a comfort hoodie she’d be sure to wear sometime soon in game, but took a step back, closing the closet, deciding she’d start off with her normal in-game clothing first.

Taking the time now to look at her own in-game clothing. A white crop top with black washed out ripped denim jeans, paired with white black shoes a cross on each one. A necklace paired with two rings and a grey satchel bag as accessories.

“Usertag Fullsun is requesting entry.” The female voice spoke once again causing Y/n to look over at her room door blanking when she saw it was closed again, she hadn’t closed it when she entered but she assumed it must have automatically closed.

“Um, request granted?” Y/n says unsurely into the open air, seemingly the command has worked as her door swings open with Donghyuck’s force.

“Y/N! My room- whoa.” Donghyuck cutting off his own sentence looking around in amazement at how they’d gotten her room right, or at least very accurately.

“Stop gawking, we should meet up with the others, they're probably waiting by now.” Y/n answered in return, moving to grab his arm, feeling the material of his loose almost see through knitted sweater as she dragged him towards the exit of her room.

“Look! It’s the plushie I got you when you hit a ‘mil on YouTube!” Donghyuck nearly squealed out pointing towards the plushie on her bed as he’s dragged out.

The two entered the hallway, door closing by itself. Both shared a glance at this but their attention was stolen away from where Chenle was knocking furiously against a door with the name tag Jwijwi.

“For once Chenle can’t storm into our rooms.” Y/n pointed out amused by the sight of the impatient brunette.

“I’m going to pretend to be amused with you like I wasn’t knocking exactly like that on your door a minute ago.” Donghyuck grinned wiggling his eyebrows animatedly causing Y/n to purse her lips realising he was the same as Chenle in that regard.

“Lele, come on, we're going to the living room. Sungie you too.” Y/n called out causing Chenle to look over just as Jisung’s door opened and he walked out, having heard her request.

“I hate the fact I need permission to enter your rooms.” Chenle grumbled out as the four grouped up to walk back.

“We’ll see if we can change that later in controls or something, let’s just map everything out first.” Y/n reassured her impatient friend as they made it back to the living room.

Mark and Renjun were both at the table looking over what seemed to be a map. Jeno and Jaemin enter the living room from a different entrance.

“What’s that?” Jeno asked out curiously as all five moved over to surround the table as well.

“It’s a map of the surrounding neighbourhood, looks like we’ve been placed in a more Eastern setting.

Everyone peered down at the map noting slight Easter eggs here and there of street names and store names. Some from Neo’s old games all the way to personal popular moments on social media from their own lives.

“They named a street after Chenle’s dog, why?” Renjun blanked at the sight causing Chenle to nudge his shoulder thinking it was a great idea, loving it.

“Daegal street sounds fantastic thank you very much, it’s probably the best street in the area.” Chenle defended his dog’s honor.

“Should we take a look outside?” Mark offered out to the rest of the group, silence enveloping them besides the music playing in the background before Jaemin, Donghyuck and Chenle bounded towards the front entrance of the home.

“I think that means yes.” Jisung sighed out as the rest followed.

The three were waiting for them at the front entrance, not having left yet. For two main purposes. One being they wanted to experience this as a group all together but the other reason was the unspoken leadership role Mark had taken in their friend group whenever it came to gaming.

Whenever the group had streamed together on games and such, Mark was always allocated the leadership role in the group without question or even a vote. It was a natural thing that had happened between the friend group. In and out of view of their online fan bases.

Mark moved to the front as his hand moved to touch the cool metal handle on the door, taking a quick breath in before opening it to reveal the outside world. A whole new area for them to explore.

“Welcome to Dream town.” The female’s voice greeted the players to the spawned town.

“Well that’s not very original.” Jeno pointed out as they took cautious steps out. The group had developed the group name Dreamies from the respected fan bases after they’d noticed the gamers had developed friendships and streamed/gamed often together. A whole new fan based solely for each one of them as a whole.

“Be happy it’s not Chenle’s dog’s name.” Renjun quipped back as they walked down the steps of the house.

“Oh we have cars.” Jeno couldn’t help but grin, adding on desperately “Please tell me we can drive them to.” Leaving the group towards a car parked outside their home assuming it was theirs, confirming it when the license plate had JN230400. That screamed his initials and birthdate.

Of course the one who was known for talking about his car would have his car parked out front, unbeknownst to the other’s their cars were in the garage, something they’d find out later on.

“I can literally feel the breeze against my face.” Jisung spoke out eyes closing as he felt the sun soaking into his skin and the nice faint cool breeze brushing against his face. It was unreal how much they could experience.

“That’s probably just Taeyong blowing in your face back at the company.” Chenle teased out ruffling his friends hair, starting a playful fight as they started roughhousing from Chenle ruining Jisung’s brief peace.

“As fun as this is, something tells me the game makers are just letting us explore uninterrupted before getting properly into the game.” Mark commented, arms crossed watching the rough housing going on.

“So what you're saying is enjoy our time exploring, hm?” Jaemin cheekily added on moving to wrap an arm around Mark’s shoulder.

“I wonder if we’ll be able to see our stats soon.” Renjun thought out loud causing Y/n to look over at him thinking it over.

“Please show me my stats Neo.” Y/n tested out loud blinking when she saw vividly in her own head a sort of screen like image.

“Here are your current stats, this will be updated regularly according to your actions.” The female voice spoke out to only her.

The boys watched her, it looked like she was dazed focusing on something.

Her states were interesting to say the least. She had a health bar, hunger bar, hygiene bar, energy bar, predetermined stats like physical stats= strength, dexterity and constitution, mental stats= Intelligence, wisdom and charisma. An area for abilities also listed. Her abilities she’d already had were basic human skill sets with a note ending on how abilities would increase or be added depending on activities done.

Before she could see more she shook the thought away, turning to look at the other three.

“Okay that worked, really weird vibe from that but I could see my thoughts like an image in my head.” Y/n explained before giving a simple run down of what it looked like.

“Interesting, looks like they have thought about a lot, although they did already say the game was technically finished I’m sure we’ll find a few bugs and glitches around.” Renjun claimed about Neo.

“Every game has a bug, no matter what.” Jaemin agreed, grinning as he added on “And with our luck we’ll walk right into it.”

“With our luck something is bound to happen.” Y/n groaned out not knowing just how ironic her words would be.

“Someone go find their car! I want us to take a drive around the place! Driving will be faster!” Jeno shouted out from where he was sitting on top of the hood of his new car, already excited to see if he could customise and upgrade his own car throughout the time they were going to play the game.

“Jesus I only trust him in real life with cars, did anyone remember the time we played a car simulator with him?” Jaemin shivered at the reminder of Jeno’s chaotic driving that game night, an off-stream thing. The group tried to have two personal game nights a month to themselves without people watching and breathing down their necks.

“Well, this place is pretty realistic so I’m assuming it will be safer than that… hopefully.” Mark replied nose scrunching at the thought of Jeno’s reckless driving if it wasn’t the case.

“We should get Y/n to drive- Alright I guess that was already decided by her.” Renjun suggested only to look to his right to see Y/n had already disappeared from their little group off to go find a car, hopefully her own.

Y/n walked around for five minutes before finding the garage, grunting as she ended up going back into the house to find it. Walking through the door, eyebrows raised seeing that the garage looked way bigger on the inside. Whistling to herself as she noticed all the different cars. Stopping in front of a tarp, grabbing the ends and pulling it off.

“Personal car unlocked.” The voice spoke out, causing her to make a mental note to ask the omnipresent voice if it had a name.

“Holy shit.” She muttered to herself gazing at the car.

It was a Subaru WRX, in blue. She shook her head with an amused grin realising she’d shown the car on stream before saying this would be the car she chose to buy if she ever got the chance one day.

Moving to the side of the car she wondered if she needed a key only for the female voice to speak again, reminding her to check her inventory, causing her to furrowed her eyebrows in confusion but just thinking about her inventory seemed to do the trick as an inventory flashed through her head, keys being one of the things in it.

Taking a wild guess she focused on the keys, nearly jumping when keys appeared in the palm of her hand, holding it up in front of her face, analysing it before unlocking the door and sliding in.

Her hands smoothing over the leather steering wheel before letting out a laugh of pure excitement. Clicking the engine on, feet automatically going to the clutch and slowly letting the clutch pressure release after taking the car out of park and into drive.

“New ability/skill set unlocked”

It was exactly like driving in real life, her car slowly moving forwards as her car grumbled to life moving forward, Y/n making sure not to damage any of the parked cars as she made her way towards the garage door that automatically opened.

Driving slowly down the drive while pulling down all her windows, a light breeze entering the car. Looking out the car driver side window she peered towards the boys, hearing Jeno hollered out in excitement to see her driving her dream car.

“Get in losers we’re going exploring.” Y/n raised her voice for everyone to hear. Using a Mean girls reference with a slight twist on it.

“On Wednesdays we apparently drive blue cars.” Renjun commented in return having been the first to get to her car, opening the passenger seat to get in. Clicking his seatbelt on after moving over the middle of the console to put her seatbelt on for her as she’d forgotten to out of excitement, not scolding her knowing this.

“I’m starting to like this game.” Y/n hummed back as Chenle and Jisung got in the back, her foot on the clutch as she changed gears back to neutral as she waited for Mark, Donghyuck and Jaemin to get into Jeno’s car, who tapped his steering wheel impatiently.

“You’re going to let him drive off first?” Jisung asked as he put on his seatbelt, safety in mind, asking about Jeno to her.

“Yeah, less of a risk of him driving into my car that way.”

“In-game car, Y/n. You’ll be missing it the moment we’re out of the game.” Chenle pointed out moving to lean in between the gap to face her.

Renjun’s hand shooting out to push against Chenle’s head towards the back seats.

“Shut up and buckle up, it’s in game but who knows how much damage we receive and what it’ll feel like.” Renjun scolded the younger friend. Who grumbled in return but did put his seatbelt on.

The sudden topic was something they really did need to think about. If everything in the game felt so realistic would getting hurt be like that as well? Y/n didn’t think so as the Ceo of Neo, Taeyong did claim the safety rating was five out of five so they must only get told their health stat would go down or take damage. Instead of thinking further on it Y/n focused on playing the game.

Jeno started driving causing Y/n to change into first gear while slowly releasing her clutch after her foot left the brake pedal, manovoring out of the drive. Even with them being the only ones on the road she still looked and indicated, on muscle memory.

“Where are we heading?” Jisung asked out as he peered out of the open backseat window.

“Wherever Jeno wants I guess.” Y/n replied as her hand moved to change into second gear after hitting 30 km/h.

“Mark is in the passenger seat, he has the map with him, he put it in his back pocket before we went outside.” Renjun also revealed.

“Looks like driving is realistic enough, Jeno hasn’t crashed yet.” Y/n pointed out changing into third gear after observing the fact Jeno was speeding up, Mark must have found a spot they wanted to go on map in town and was giving him directions by the confident style he showed from speeding up.

“Just think about all these houses, they will be home bases for other players one day.” Jisung pointed out as he observed the differently styled houses in the area.

“In a couple of months if everything goes well.” Renjun hummed out.

Y/n changing back into second gear as they rounded a corner and back up to third gear once they continued along. Renjun moved to turn on the radio of the car for some ambience. He was one of the four people of the group that was in charge of the music playlist usually during hang outs so it was natural for him to do so.

The group drove for five minutes before Jeno started slowing down. Y/n following his pace gazing around for tell tale signs of what exactly they were arriving too.

“Looks like the store area of the town.” Renjun pointed out as everyone took in the new area of the town.

“Can we loot in this game?” Chenle made an offhand comment as Jisung gave him a warning look.

“Your sticky fingers always cause trouble.” Jisung grumbled out in distaste.

“Hands in pockets Chenle when we arrive.” Y/n joked out as if Chenle was a kid, having remembered how her own mum used to make her do so as a child not to touch or break anything in stores.

“My number one haters right here.” Chenle huffed out pouting with crossed arms.

Jeno started indicating towards a car park area, causing Y/n to do the same. Shift down to first gear as she turned into the car park, driving further in compared to Jeno before putting the car in reverse, easily parking as only a few cars were parked in the area.

Putting the car in park, she turned off the engine, causing Chenle to pop his seatbelt off straight away, opening his door to race off towards where Jeno was still parking. Y/n grumbling about Chenle not even closing the door. All three inside unbuckled before getting out themselves, Jisung rounding the corner to close the door Chenle hadn’t.

“Let’s see what they picked for us to look at.” Renjun offered as he waited with Jisung as Y/n locked her car.

“Probably had a few stores in mind, but came to the main store street so we could get the general layout for what we’ll need going further into the game.” Y/n replied while the trio walked through the car park towards the other’s hopping out of Jeno’s car.

“Jeno has an automatic car Y/n!” Donghyuck shouted out towards the trio that approached, already cackling while holding his stomach after seeing Y/n reaction, her nose scrunching in dismay at Jeno’s car.

“Disappointed but not surprised Jeno.” Y/n addressed him as she finally got over right as Jeno punched Donghyuck in the arm in retaliation.

“I didn’t choose that!” Jeno claimed loudly as Donghyuck yelped looking disturbed, eyes unfocused.

“You ass! My health was depleted by 2 % just then!” He zoned back in, shaking off the image in his head as the female voice told him his health status.

“Well how was I supposed to know that would deplete your health, I didn’t even try hitting you hard!” Jeno argued back, Renjun shoving his face away from Donghyucks with his hand to stand in front of the said ‘injured’ friend.

“What did it feel like?” Renjun asked, curious on how much they’d be able to feel pain in the gameplay.

“What? Not even an are you okay Channie?” Donghyuck whined out offended but grumbled out the answer “It didn’t feel like what it usually feels like getting punched by Jeno, felt weird like a fuzzy feeling. How do I even describe it? Like my body didn’t like it but it also didn’t hurt.”

“So we feel something but not exactly pain, when getting hurt to indicate we have taken damage.” Renjun voiced out how they’d know about taking damage without constantly checking their health stat.

“Coolio, can we go check out the shops now?” Chenle interrupted, getting impatient to look around.”

“Outside message ‘Out of three hours you have two hours left to continue exploring.’ Delivered.” The female's voice floated through their heads at the same time.

“Hey do you have a name, automated voice person?” Jaemin asked out loud, blinking as the group watched before he gave them a sheepish smile.

“They called her Jayu.” Jaemin explained while he shrugged his shoulders, showing off that the question did help them.

“Has it really been an hour already?” Jisung asked out, shocked at just how fast time passed already.

“Yes, now let’s go before we waste anymore time!” Chenle loudly shut down Jisung’s attempt at conversation, tugging his friend into a walk.

“If we break off please go in at least pairs!” Mark called out worriedly before adding on “We’re regrouping back at the carpark in one hour!”

Donghyuck placed his hands on Mark’s shoulders to push him towards the car park exit having picked him, already talking his friends' ears off.

Renjun seeing who was left, quickly grabbing Y/n’s wrist not wanting to deal with the other 00 liners nearby.

“Hey you already got to be a passenger princess in her car.” Jaemin argued, tugging Renjun’s hand away from her wrist.

“Exactly, plus the people who drove here should stick together.” Jeno sneakily replied moving to rest his arm on Y/n’s shoulder who gave him a look at the bodily made up excuse.

“Shut up Jeno, that was an ass excuse.” Renjun scoffed out before pointing at Y/n.

“Pick someone before those two start brawling.” He suggested letting his hand drop.

Y/n humming as she thought it over. She would have the most peace with Renjun, but didn’t like the idea of leaving Jaemin and Jeno together and alone in any type of store; that was bound to be a disaster.

“For the sake of us not breaking anything in the stores I’m gonna have to pick one of them, Jaemin come on.” She decided, causing Jaemin to pump his fist in the area before running to catch up with Y/n who’d already started to leave.

Jaemin turned to look back at Renjun and Jeno giving them a smug look before talking with Y/n waving his arms around as he does.

“She’s right about you guys being a chaotic duo when left alone.” Renjun quipped at Jeno before moving away, Jeno tempted to shove Renjun’s shoulder at his words but wanted not to get hurt in return so he left it be trailing after him.

Outside the gameplay back in the Neo company building Taeyong sat at the desk with Doyoung. Takeout on the table.

“This is going well, put some money into their credit as a gift while they roam the stores.” Taeyong commented, his eyes glued to one of the many screens showing each pair of duo’s walking around.

“Careful, they might get used to your generosity.” Doyoung warned but completed the task given to him anyway.

“It’s their first day Doyoung, let them have fun.” Taeyong grinned at his friend, who’d been beside him since he’d started the company.

“It seems like you’re having more fun watching them then they are playing the game.” Doyoung teased out with a scoff, hands typing away.

“It’s refreshing seeing the game running after working on it for years.” Taeyong hummed out eyes training on a specific pair of the group. The pink haired and brunette haired duo finally made it to one of the stores.

“Careful Taeyong, your favouritism is showing.” Doyoung noticed where Taeyong’s eyes had been staring at the most throughout the last hour.

“Can’t help it I guess.” Taeyong’s reply was cheeky, as he gave his friend a wink.

“It’s going to be fun watching them when the real fun kicks in.”

Prologue | Chapter one | Chapter two

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