SONGKIM FANFIC COMPILATION

It's Me (TW)

*sequel of It's You

*tw: anxiety

He retrieved a flask from the dashboard and chugged all its content in one go. He can't remember if it was tequilla or vodka, but whatever was just enough to make his mind intoxicated. He rolled down the window and feel the air from outside. He decided to let loose and feel the wind with his arm outside the window. It felt liberating and so, he went for more. Jinwoo sped up.

He sped up and flew. He chuckled, amazed at how he can do things he wouldn't, or any other person, normally do. Again, it was liberating. His pulse felt more alive. He felt alive, and he was addicted to that feeling - the feeling of being able to do anything, not thinking about its consequences. But despite being intoxicated from drinking too much alcohol - variety - there was still logic left in him which made him know that a police would be in his tail any minute by then.

"Wooohhhh!" The air hit him more. He had to exert some effort to keep his arm, the one out, steady. He turned to his right, not knowing where it will lead him. Did he know where he was? Absolutely no.

He grinned widely - the widest he ever did - when he saw a huge tree. It looked old and old trees were the strongest, they'd seen everything and despite so, they were still standing tall like nothing can ever faze them. And Jinwoo, for the first time in his life, wanted to be just a tree. He didn't want to be a person anymore. He didn't want anything about being a person anymore, including his life - oh, everything about his life.

Jinwoo closed his eyes. The car kept on speeding up...

***

"Hyung!"

Mino was waiting for him. Since his exhibit began, he had been glancing at the entrance for one too many times, expecting for him to enter it and bring extra light to the room. The room, which was made bright, was very different to his last exhibit venues. Twenty four of his artworks were there.

Jinwoo learned by reading that Mino used the art movement called impressionism for his exhibit. But not in all of his artworks, he found out after he let himself wander around with Mino following him closely behind.

And Jinwoo stopped.

He stopped on Mino's painting of him.

"What do you think?"

Jinwoo stared at it. As he was doing so, he heard a voice inside his mind screaming. His heart was clenching. The painting was him, but it wasn't him. It was no longer him. "I need to go," he responded.

Mino's smile was wiped away. He stared at him, seemingly looking for the reason he had to leave already in his face. But of course, Jinwoo didn't give it away just like that. "I don't think I can keep you even if I want to."

Jinwoo nodded. "By the way, congrats, Mino."

And Mino smiled to him once more. His smile was so genuine, it made Jinwoo's heart ached even more. He knew he really had to leave.

***

Jinwoo opened his eyes. Beads of sweat were all over his forehead, and neck. It was dark, most likely 12 midnight to 1. His heart was beating loudly. He heaved a deep sigh, but it was not enough for his hands to stop trembling or his tears to stop falling. He was so tired having the same nightmare over and over again.