𝗖𝗔𝗡𝗗𝗬 𝗦𝗞𝗜𝗘𝗦 | minsung

𝖢𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 // 𝗔𝗰𝗰𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗹 𝗦𝗸𝗶𝗲𝘀

Walking along the same route as always, the boy kept a seemingly confident demeanor on as he was perhaps afraid if he were to approach anyone with bad intentions at any given time.

Sure, he was seventeen. He knew from right to wrong and what to do and not to do, such as straying around during night. But either way, he wasn't exactly taught and had to learn himself as if it were included under the common sense category.

Even so, what would one with bad intentions know about common sense? Absolutely nothing. And so it simply never made sense to the rather young boy as to why he had to be the one alongside others to know if some simply hadn't bothered to get the gist of it.

"These fucking kids..." He winced upon hearing that. And not a second too late, he started to hear loud footsteps getting closer and closer towards him. He started running once he thought that the owner of the voice would start to chase him down the streets.

Or, perhaps in the worse case, hit him.

After some time of running, he stopped to take in some air and simply looked back. But to his absolute surprise, there was no one behind him. Almost as if that entire time, he had been running from no one.

Had he gone insane? Had he just heard things out of nowhere? No, no way. There was no way it was just a hallucination and such. He wasn't that dumb, was he?

Well... perhaps he was.

The evidence laid clear and firm, confirming that there was no sign of a person who chased him down. Not even any footsteps nor noises could be proof of such.

"What's wrong with me today?" He thought, proceeding to scold himself rather harshly and hit himself multiple times.

"Stupid, stupid..." He mumbled under his breath, whilst continuing to cross the streets after seeing as no cars were headed towards his direction in particular.

He wasn't out to cause troubles and such as there were still a few beers left in the fridge to satisfy his father for the moment.

So, instead of locking himself up in his room with the potential risk of getting shouted at by his father when he'd be going through one of his tougher nights, he simply went out.

Of course, being the regular person he was and not-so-troublesome at that, he told his father before leaving. But he didn't seem to care regardless so there was no point in doing so as it would be passed off a mere instinct.

∙∙∙

"And you didn't tell him to go fuck himself because...?" The brunet lifted a brow, not exactly sure as to what his friend was questioning nor anticipating for him to have done to the boy from the night before.

"I may be an asshole, but you just made me look like the nice guy for once." His ignorant, careless friend shook his head as he slid a hand into his pocket and reached out for a ziplock bag that was buried underneath whatever else he had hiding in there.

Minho, knowing exactly what he was up to, rolled his eyes and slapped his hand away before he got the chance to even see what he was pulling out of the messy pocket.

"You're no fun, huh?" He shook his head, not caring if he wasn't deemed as cool just because he refused to do drugs one bit.

Regardless, he most definitely preferred cigarettes or coffee over drugs any day. Half of the time, his lowlife friend would always buy drugs for almost higher than the price it costed when bought off of someone else.

He knew that. And he told him that. But no matter how many times he tried to tell him that it would land him in danger for the long run, it was no use as he was stubborn as a mule.

So he stopped as well.

It was no use and so he decided that it wouldn't be worth his time even as a friend. It would all go downhill for the both of them anyway. He knew that, too. They, knew that.

And to be fair, his friend expressed concern for his smoking addiction. He didn't listen. So he honestly wasn't that surprised that his friend would follow in his footsteps and do the same as him.

Although... it was uncertain if he did it just to seem just as cool as he was or if he did it for the pure thrill and pleasure that came along with the usually white, strange powders.

"I wasn't exactly born to entertain you now, was I?" He replied, earning an eye-roll from the purple-haired male.

"I don't know, maybe you were." There was a simple, playful, yet annoying tone to that response that made Minho want to punch his friend's face flat.

But of course, it was just a joke and made solely for enlightenment and entertainment. No matter how much he genuinely wanted to practically beat him to death, he couldn't.

And so there came the feeling of frustration and another indescribable one. One that he couldn't exactly label as an emotion at all.

"You kind of look like a veiny tomato. An unappetizing one at that." The taller fake-barfed, his twelve-year-old sense of humor kicking in even though he was a little over Minho's age in a surprising twist.

"And you look like a beanbag I could beat to death right now." Upon hearing his knuckles crack, he stepped back hesitantly and gave Minho a strange yet nervous look.

"Chil- hey, wait, isn't that the kid who bumped into you from yesterday?" He asked, attempting to take Minho's unsettling glare off of him and onto the person he pointed the spotlight towards.

"Huh?" Confusion was quick to fade as the second he turned around, he was met with a body that pushed against his own. Perhaps it might've been an accident and not on purpose.

But, it's Minho. So regardless of what you'd make of it, he would paint it to be on purpose and not just an ordinary accident.

"For fucks sake! Do you have to run into literally me out of everybody else in this trash ass neighborhood?!"