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cw: alcohol consumption
































Leave a message after the beep

"Hey Janice, it's Kai, calling in to say that I'm not coming to work today."





















Woke up again, what a shame.

Rays of gold piercing through the cracks of his blinds hit the side of his face, having him flinch in retaliation.

His hair was a mess, his cheeks were lightly stained down to the edge of his face, eyes felt heavy.

He didn't think twice about making his bed that morning, avoiding the mess he made in a fit of rage last night. All he knew was he needed to get food into his system, before he could function.

He was starving, but he couldn't find the energy to make himself anything proper. His tired arms reached up for the box of corn flakes resting at the top of the shelf.

He didn't bother to grab a bowl,

that's too many dishes for me to wash

Using his untrimmed finger nails, he tore open the box, placing it next to the garbage can, holding the sheer plastic bag of cornflakes in his free hand.

He dragged his feet to the small dining table he has centred in his unit, sitting in one of the two seats that complimented it. He stared blankly at the vacant spot across the table. It would always be y/n to occupy that spot, considering he never had anyone else over.

There was no reaction to come from this boy. His expression had been null, and it seemed like it would stay that way for a while. The emotional pain had numbed him out completely.

He lifted the bag of corn flakes against his chest, with one hand on either side, pulling at opposite ways, but he'd been too weakened to get it open, with the bag just slipping out of his grasp.

He didn't want to get a pair of scissors to open the bags,

it's too much of a hassle to get up and walk back to the kitchen

In a swift motion, he swooped his head down clenching his teeth to the corner of the bag, tearing a small hole in the corner. It served like a makeshift funnel, a gateway for the cornflakes to fall into the mouth.

When'd he get so lonely?

No.

That's not it

He isn't lonely, is he?

Pulling his phone out of his black jeans he hadn't taken off since he put them on a day prior, he stared blankly at the screen, thumbs tracing through all the cracks on his screen that he hadn't really acknowledged.

Why are there so many cracks? How much have I been recklessly tossing the thing around?

Despite the thin indent that split his home button completely in half, his Touch ID still worked like a charm, and he was greeted by his home screen. It was a photo from the night he and y/n went to see their favourite musician live in concert. Kai had one arm around y/n, other hand reaching out to capture the scenery; her with her arms slightly up holding two peace signs, the bright neon lights coming from the venue's stage, and a faint silhouette of the musician not too far away.

7-eleven ; sapnapWhere stories live. Discover now