Ridin' |norenmin|

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Disclaimer: This chapter will have a murder scene at the end. Don't read it if you don't feel comfortable. 

After dropping Jaemin off in front of the campus, Renjun drove his car back home. Even if it has only been a day since he didn't come back, it felt like eternity to him and when he spotted the house when he entered the street, the blonde haired male felt a lump in his throat. He had to make an excuse for his wounded hand, because this time, cutting a Grapefruit was no longer an option. He took a deep breath when he parked his car inside the garage, next to Kun's vehicle.  

Throwing the backpack on his shoulder, Renjun pushed the door open and started climbing the stairs until he reached another door. When he opened, the smell of food filled his nose. The voices that came from his mom and Kun rang in his ears. They were talking about his brother's day at work and from his voice, Renjun understood how tired he was. 

"Oh you're back." His mom was the first to notice him. She left the white bowl full of rice on the counter and made her way towards her younger son. Renjun soon found himself in her warm and comforting embrace and he wrapped his own arms around her waist. He felt like crying for some reason, but he blinked quickly and then pulled away from the hug. "How's Ten?" 

Right, he was supposed to be at the older the other night. 

"He's fine." Renjun lied and faked a smile while he put his backpack on a chair. "He said he want to come by one day." 

"You should bring him after classes then." The woman turned her back to him and went to Kun to put the food in front of him so he could eat. "Did you eat?" She then looked at Renjun who nodded. "Then you have some food for tomorrow as well." 

"Okay." 

He barely ate that day, but he didn't feel like eating at all. He suddenly felt guilty because his mom really believed he changed in better, when in reality, he was becoming the worse version of that seventeen years old boy who made himself a criminal just for money and for the possibility to have power in the street racing industry. Obviously, that state of guilt erased itself in about a minute, when Renjun felt empty. He felt nothing despite seeing his mom's wide smile filled with goodness, his brother's way of eating that usually made him amused, but this time, he felt nothing. 

"I-I'll be in my room."  Renjun announced and grabbed his backpack before any of the two could say something. He rushed up the stairs and locked the door of his room the moment he closed it behind himself. Resting his head by the cold surface of the door, Renjun let himself fall on the floor with a deaf sound. "It's getting worse." He whispered the moment a tears fell down his cheek. "Fuck." 

Hugging his knees to his chest, Renjun tried to calm himself as much as he could. He felt the panic attack coming, because he felt helpless. He didn't want to turn into a psychopath, he didn't want to see his family being ruined more than it was already, he didn't want to see his friends get harmed and him not feeling anything. If only he would manage to get therapy while there was still a chance of him getting better. Still, if the police would find out about his crime record, then he would end up with a life sentence or even worse. 

Renjun took another deep breath and stood up from the floor. He approached his desk and opened a drawer and took out a small knife. His heart beat was increasing by each second and he felt like suffocating all of a sudden. Closing his eyes, the blonde haired male placed the blade to his neck and pressed it onto his skin. 

"Maybe if I die now then nothing bad will happen." A smile formed his lips after whispering that and finally, he felt like calming down. Everything was silent, peaceful, just like it should be. "Then I should just..." He hissed when a sharp pain touched his skin. He opened his eyes and looked at the long cut through the mirror. He won't die from it, but it will leave a scar. "Why can't I do it?" He threw the knife back into the drawer and rested his palms by the desk. He watched as red drops of blood fell onto the wooden surface. They seemed like dancing on a sad song, no, on a song of death. Another smile formed his lips as he sighed loudly.