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U-WUT woke up quickly, his palms sweaty and headache gone. However, he was in his room, on his bed. What the hell just happened? "U-Wut. Finally. You passed out last night." Rockwell laughs, nodding as he sips his beer. "What?" He was extremely confused.
U-Wut remembers the guy. Vincenzo. He was..really good looking. But, everything felt so real. How could this happen? "I didn't leave the garage?" He asks. Rockwell nods, "no. You went upstairs and went to bed."
What the hell?
"Well. Todays supposed to be training day but, you look like you need a break. Just stay here." None of this makes sense. Does Don Fabio have a son? "Rockwell." U-Wut stops him before the guy could leave.
"That mafia guy..Don. Does he have a son?" Rockwell sighs. "Look. Don't be worrying, okay?" "So he does?"
It went quiet, before he sips his beer again. "Two sons. One is adopted, I don't know about the other. Vinkenzo? I don't know. And then some Polo guy." He replies, makinh U-Wut tense.
How could this happen? How did he dream of the exact same guy last night in the worst way possible?
"U-Wut. It's fine. He's in Italy probably mourning like an idiot. We're in fucking Korea. He isn't never going to find us here. We left zero tracks."
U-Wut trusted Rockwell. He just thought, how many other people did they make him do this? How? "Here." Rockwell pulls a bag of coke out, handing it to the male.
The air is heavy with anticipation as he prepares three lines of the drug on a book. With a trembling hand, he carefully arranges the powdery substance into thin rows, ready for consumption. He leans forward, his heart pounding, he inhales sharply, snorting the lines one by one.
Almost instantly, a surge of euphoria pulses through his veins, numbing the pain and worries that have plagued him for far too long.
But as the minutes tick by, the initial rush fades, and a profound sadness takes its place. The intoxicating high transforms into a bittersweet mood, enveloping U-Wut in a haze of nostalgia and longing.
In the midst of his altered state of mind, U-Wut's thoughts drift to his mother. Memories of her warm embrace and unconditional love flood his consciousness, leaving him overwhelmed with a deep sense of loss and yearning.
He realizes how much he misses her presence, her guidance, and the simple joys they used to share. Her smile was everything. It lit the entire room. The cocaine-induced haze only intensifies his longing, magnifying the void she left behind.
As the drug continues to influence his emotions, U-Wut's mind wanders further, back to his old life. He reminisces about the days when happiness seemed effortless, when his spirit felt unburdened by the weight of his current struggles.
He longs for the carefree moments, the laughter, and the genuine connections that have eluded him in his present reality. The stark contrast between his past and present existence amplifies the sadness within him.
In the midst of his sad high, U-Wut finds himself at a crossroads. The cocaine, once a temporary escape, now magnifies his longing for a different life — a life filled with the love of his mother, the contentment of his past, and the happiness he has so desperately sought. With a heavy heart, he contemplates the choices before him, searching for a way to reconcile his desire for a better life with the reality of his current circumstances.
But there was was no way. There was no way for him to stop. To own up for what he did. For the way he slapped his mother or pushed his little brother into a wall. U-Wut didn't deserve a second chance at life. He never did.
U-Wuts tears ran into his mouth, finding the salty taste absolutely disgusting. U-Wut stuffs the rest of the coke back in the bag, saving it for later. He figured music would help him get out of his thoughts.
He tried to think of now. He has a bed, somewhere to stay, and a job. Maybe not a safe and legal job..but at least he was getting paid.
U-Wut played games on his phone to distract him and also pass the time. It was the same thing everyday unless he was out dealing or training.
He hears a crash from outside his door, pausing his game because..nobody is here and training is at least for an hour. No way it's been a whole hour already.
U-Wut wanted to shower to...he wished it wasn't some stupid guy breaking in. He puts his phone down, realizing it was probably a dumb decision as he opens his door.
There was a guy dressed in all black, searching through the lockers, tables, desks, everywhere. Robber? U-Wut didn't know. He just grabbed a bat next to his door, he didn't even know they had one.
He quietly and slowly walks towards the man, trying to sneak up on him. Be cool..right? And cool. It'll be alright.
U-Wut went for it and just wacked the guy in the back, yelling as he hits the metal material on the person. However, he was too high to notice the stupid toolbox on the floor.
He trips..to our surprise.
A painfully throb came back in his head. He could never get a break when it comes to headaches. U-Wut felt his entire body light up as a sharp sensation came through his leg. "You fucker!" He cusses, now knowing what he had done.
U-Wut kicks him with his better leg, right in the face, as hard as he could or at least so he could run the hell out of here. Again, if he can..
U-Wut gets himself up, looking down at the knife injected into his leg. He was now in intense pain, his body taping with sweat as he panicked.
He quickly limps out of the garage, U-Wut was coming to terms of it being complicated. He wanted to give up as his vision went low and he went lightheaded at multiple times. Honestly, U-Wut didn't even know where he was doing or what he was doing.. he couldn't even come to terms with how he felt.
He feels lightheaded, everything going black, as he closes and opens his eyes. People around him looking at him like he was crazy, whispering things. "Hey. Are you okay?"
He turns, seeing a young male with brown colored hair and a blonde streak in front. U-Wut couldn't answer. He just passed out.
"Shit."
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