His skin was pale as newly fallen snow, his hair was blonde as newly bloomed daffodils, and his heart was warm as a newly begun spring.
If Jeongguk was snow, then Taehyung was hail.
Yet there they were, hot and cold, yin and yang, with their heart...
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You can never drown out memories with alcohol, only push them to another shore.
•*•
I walked through the dark, wooden door and threw my backpack on the ground, taking off my leather jacket and boots. Jeongguk's words were gnawing at me. They didn't leave me alone.
My stepdad was out—his shoes weren't at the entrance. I contemplated on whether to ask or not. Well, mom needed to drink a bit more first. Not too much, not too little.
I strolled into the kitchen and took out a juice brick. I stuck the straw through the supposed hole and brought it up to my lips, taking a sip. The apple flavored substance hit my taste buds and glided down my throat.
I scrunched my nose slightly. This was nothing compared to the delicious, warm cup of hot chocolate I had at Jeongguk's. To be honest, even Jeongguk's company made a huge difference. The world felt so dull and weird when he wasn't around. But it was probably just because I had simply gotten used to having him around.
It was probably just temporary.
I sat down the finished, crumbled juice brick beside all the other empty juice bricks.
I never really bothered to throw them in the trash can. Too much work.
I walked into the living room and carefully checked mom's eyes. Okay, now seemed like a good time. I walked up in front of the figure on the couch and looked down at her and all her bottles.
"Mom?"
She grunted and rolled her head on the red couch. I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. "Mom, do you have my birth certificate? I need it... for school."
Okay, that may have been a bad cover-up.
Mom looked up at me with unfocused eyes. Her red eyes tried to zero in on me as if she couldn't remember who I was.
"Wha' does the school need that for?" She muttered in a hoarse voice after letting her head fall down on the couch again. I tried my best not to let my irritation show. I just wanted the damn certificate, how hard could it be?
"I don't know. Everybody's just been told to bring it."
Mom worked her dry brain. I could almost hear it rattle. "I... well, I don't know... no, I dunno where it is."
I cursed quietly under my breath before turning on my heel and storming away, out of the room. It was always the same old shit.
I don't know who your dad is. I never got his name.
And the worst of it was that I believed her. Nobody knew who my father was. He didn't even know it himself. Mom was just that type: drinking too much, sleeping with a man, and then forgetting everything about it.
When I was little, I used to stare at Asian men. Do I look like that man? Or that man? Followed them around like a little puppy through the streets. One day a man stopped and smiled down at me as if he understood.
Hi, my little friend. Can I help you?
His friendly, brown eyes.
I ran.
My body came in contact with my black, small bed and I grunted. My jaw was clenched and my fists were balled. Why did everything have to be so fucking hard? My mother was too much. She only ever cared about alcohol. Why the fuck would she not just get an abortion if this was what she'd do with the child? I wasn't normal like the others. Why the fuck would she put a child in a situation like this? A situation where the child didn't know who his own father was. Fucking bullshit. I hated her stupid alcohol addiction.
