I GOT YOU, MINJAE. | ANTON LEE ™

ONE.

And there he was, sitting on the couch in his somewhat new house, staring at the white powder on the coffee table in his living room. He knew what he was doing yet he continued. Minjae is a 17-year-old with an addiction only he could fix. Too bad he was careless and nonchalant about his choices.

He quickly turned his head as he saw his mother burst into the front door, joy written on her face before it slowly faded at the sight of her son. She was finally home from her business trip, happy as ever but now her mood wasn't the same anymore. The lanky boy jumped up, collected the powdery substance, and slipped it back into the little clear bag.

"Minjae... what's under your nose?" his mother asked with a shaky voice. She never thought her son would do drugs, not once in her entire life. Not in her house. Not in plain sight.

He quickly brushed the residue from under his nose before putting on a fake smile. "Nothing. It's nothing Mom," he mumbled. The male slipped the small bag into his pocket and turned to walk to his room only to be stopped by a hand on his wrist. "What is in your pocket?" the shorter woman asked with a sterner tone. He ripped his arm away and glared towards his mother, shaking his head slightly. "I said nothing, leave me alone please."

Minjae ran upstairs and down the hall to his room, slamming the door before flopping onto his small but comfortable bed. He groaned and rolled on his back as he stared at the ceiling, his slender fingers digging in his pockets as if searching for gold. A sigh of relief came from him when he finally found the small bag, pulling it out and hiding it under his pillow.

He got up, brows furrowed as he heard a faint voice at his window. His feet brought him towards it before opening the curtains, rolling his eyes at the sight of his two best friends flailing their arms around. Minjae opened the window and let out a sigh. "What do you want idiots?" the sun-kissed boy asked before tilting his head. "Asshole, we just came to ask if you wanted to go to a party."

He hummed and ran a hand through his black locks, nodding at the question. "Sure. I don't mind but if Seungsik is slumped, he's going to your house," he said, pointing towards his best friend, Yeji. "Hey, I'm like right fucking here," said the pale boy. Minjae shrugged and closed his window, going downstairs and to the front door before being stopped.

"Where the fuck are you going?" his older brother, Minjoon asked. Minjoon was only two years older than him, but he acted as if he was Minjae's father rather than their own dad. "Somewhere that doesn't include you," the younger shot back before exiting their home.