❝I really fucking hate you Lee Haechan,❞
❝No you don't angel ❞
- 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐮˚
- 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬˚
✧˚ · | in which a
job opportunity
from heaven
turns out to be
hell on earth
Lee Haechan hates paparazzi, reporters, talk show host...
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chapter 0 - bloodstream "I've got sinning on my mind, sipping on red wine." PROLOGUE ▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞
"I SWEAR TO GOD, that bastard is trying to get us killed." Renjun scoffed, running a hand through his long hair that had a dramatic two-toned colour effect - darker at the top and lighter on the bottom. An unlit cigarette was placed between his lips as he paced up and down the outer edge of the race track. "Would it seriously kill him to just be on time?"
Jaemin, who had his lower body pressed against the scarlet red exotic car, snatched the cigarette from his friend's lips and placed it between his own. He lit it, allowing a cloud of smoke to puff into the dimly cast arena for tonight's illegal street race.
"Can you stop being a stress head for one second and just relax, Renjun? You know Haechan hasn't missed a race in years." He shook his head - causing a few blue strands of hair to blur his vision - before passing the smoke back.
With the sound of tires dragging against stones, the two boys turned their heads to a familiar black car approaching their line of vision. Renjun felt his anxiety heighten as he looked through the rolled-down passenger window only to find Mark and Jeno sitting in the vehicle. He huffed before pressing his fingertips to his temples.
"Why is he not with you two? Does he have any idea how important-"
"Christ, Renjun. Chill out." Mark said, watching the anxious boy work himself up to no ease.
Huang Renjun was known to let the feeling of pure panic overpower his logic when it came to racing - and tonight was no different. With the group's star driver nowhere in sight, he couldn't help but feel the hairs on the back of his neck start to rise and the sweat on his upper lip build. Mark Lee, on the other hand, knew better than to doubt his own best friend. Haechan was never late, especially not to a street race.
He lived for the thrill of it too much. The heightening of his adrenaline was his favourite part. And for the past three-odd years since the five of them had spent drowned in this illegal mess, he knew better than to be late to a race as important as this one.
"Of course, you're gonna cover for him. Need I remind the three of you what will happen if he's late?"
Mark rolls his eyes before stepping out of the car, resting his weight on its front bumper. "Like I said before, re-fucking-lax!"
"Fuck this," Renjun scoffs. He takes a final pull of the cigarette that Jaemin had lit for him before tossing it to the ground. "You three can sit here and wait for him, but I'm not risking my life."
