Checkmate | Seongjoong

XI (Edited)

Chapter Eleven

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Another week crawled by, a haunting echo of dread encompassing Hongjoong's everyday existence. He remained sequestered within the confines of his room, a realm of solitude where sleep evaded him. The days blurred into nights, merging seamlessly as he lay entrenched in his bed, unable to find respite in slumber. The occasional ventures outside his room were mere fleeting moments—brief escapades to the bathroom or for a superfluous gulp of water. His unyielding sense of restlessness tethered him to the four walls that confined him, a prisoner of his own thoughts.

As the days trickled on, San, a steadfast companion, stood vigil by Hongjoong's side, ensuring his well-being. The passing days seemed to stretch infinitely, each moment weighed down by the burden of Hongjoong's desolation.

On a sombre Friday evening, a knock disrupted the eerie silence that enveloped Hongjoong's room. San's voice permeated through the door, coaxing Hongjoong into acknowledging the world beyond his solitude. Sluggishly, Hongjoong willed himself out of bed, a mere shell of his former self, to confront San's inquisitive gaze.

With a gesture of concern, San handed over a piece of card that Hongjoong instantly recognized as Seonghwa's business card. Hongjoong's countenance bore the weariness of sleepless nights and a tempest of emotions. The words etched on the card echoed in his mind, a subtle reminder of Seonghwa's offer of solace. The number printed on the card seemed to burn into his consciousness, a silent plea for reassurance.

San's impatience cut through Hongjoong's reverie. "Y'know what, I'm tired of you moping around all day and night. I'm taking you out tonight," San declared with an air of determined conviction. Hongjoong, submerged in his thoughts, hesitated to voice his reservations, but San had made up his mind.

Before Hongjoong could offer any protest, San guided him back into the room, urging him to prepare for the evening ahead. Left to his own devices, Hongjoong stood in front of the mirror, meticulously inspecting his attire. He wore a pristine white turtleneck sweater that hugged his frame, accentuating his sleek black jeans. His platinum blonde hair, meticulously styled, revealed his defined forehead, while a silver wristwatch adorned his wrist. Satisfied with his appearance, he emerged from his room, anticipation mingled with uncertainty.

In the living room, San was engrossed in playful banter with the black kitten named Nero. Hongjoong couldn't help but engage in an affectionate reunion with his feline friend, his affection spilling over in an overflow of kisses and adoration. San, ever the joker, teased Hongjoong about questioning his pet care abilities, eliciting a chuckle from the usually sombre Hongjoong.

They stepped out into the twilight, San's car navigating the labyrinthine streets of the city as the urban sprawl enveloped them. The cityscape was a mesmerising collage of flickering neon lights, a spectacle that captured Hongjoong's attention as they whizzed past, the evening gradually unfolding its mysteries.

As they drove, the cityscape transformed into a luminescent vista, a mosaic of colours painting the canvas of the night. The fading sunlight ushered in the twinkling stars, casting an ethereal glow upon the city's nocturnal facade. Hongjoong's mind, momentarily captivated by the dazzling spectacle, found a fleeting escape from the shackles of his wearisome thoughts.

San pulled over by the side of the street, the neon lights of the club casting an iridescent glow around them. "Come on, hyung. Woo and Yunho are already inside," San announced, sliding out of the car. Hongjoong followed suit, the pulsating lights of the club already causing a throb in his temples. The deafening music reverberated against his skull, a discordant symphony that echoed through the night. "What's the point of coming to a club? It's not like we can even drink anything," Hongjoong queried, his voice barely audible above the cacophony.