not what you think

iii: n-1

His worried feet prance back and forth between one length to another of the fencing of the undersized apartment. The tapping of dainty soles keeps augmenting the fretfulness of the youngest, hefty male sitting cross legged on their makeshift bed, head in his hands, while another lean male sits on the rocking chair, as equally discomposed as the youngest.

"Wooyoung, tell me this is some sick joke you and Joonki are making with me, because you two know how sudden this for me is," the rather lanky male quizzes the younger, eyeing the pleat within his brother's brows, eyes melded with resentment and discontent altogether, appearing as the lacuna in a black hole.

Swirling, spiraling into nothingness, encasing and levering anything towards itself, in an endless pit. Like the last tinge of resolve in Joonki's eyes.

Wooyoung's crestfallen visage remains unwavered.

"I wasn't joking when I said Yangwon was left dry of its money, and the buyer won't let it be run under a lease," Wooyoung utters, soiling his mouth in bitter aftertaste.

"Who could do this to them?"

"I don't know, maybe enemies? Rival hotels which faced loss due to Yangwon's high earnings?"

"What has actually happened?"

The youngest rises to his feet, unquiet and vexed, a spitfire in physical form, the turmoil and ruckus of the day rolling down to his sluggishness, contrary to his mind. All he wishes for is the commotion esteemed to be a nightmare.

He's frantic in his sleep, he just needs to wake up, his psyche puts effort to indoctrinate itself to an easing lie.

Yet he's discerning his surroundings. He's wide awake, and this is something he won't be able to nullify with easement from his brother, plugged with anxiety. His brother's best friend heaving his inky frustration, every ticking moment. Anyone.

It is real and true, no matter the soundless pleads to heavens above to reverse its ripple effect.

"Hyung, is there anything we can do even if you hear it out? It's done. The," Joonki gesticulating all of them, "three of us are knee, no nose deep in trouble. We need to think of something. We don't have the liberty to sit and be mad about the situation," voices, expression in sheer contrast of his statement.

"More than us, we're worried about you. Talk to us. We know how much you loved being there," Wooyoung sighs, eyes point blank as much as it's able to scrutinize the younger.

Joonki discerns another pair of, a bit unlike his own, gaze with urgency, out of grave caringness. A yearning to avail his deep-rooted feelings towards the plunge of a premise, being within reach of his heart.

"I'm fine. Don't dwell in it, I'll find a way. Another six months to study and juggle a job in between, no big deal," Joonki resounds in a stoic tune.

Another depressed sigh flees, save for his brother, than the other male whose hands don't stagger to rub his at his features.

"You keep saying the same thing over and over no matter what. Aren't you getting tired of trying to make us out to be fools? Your brother and I want to help. We really do. Telling us you're not okay isn't gonna make you small in front of-"

With every word, Joonki feels unmuffled temperament surfing its wave to his head, failing to engulf the flicker forged through clicks, blazing to a combustion from being prodded at, even to his abhorrence.

"Hyung, I think that's enough."

"It never is. You've been silent from Yangwon to all the way here. You keep bottling up your thoughts. It's not good for you."

"How do you know, hyung? Have you been in my place?", Joonki's tonality hints at one of effervescent anger.

Wooyoung's forehead ridges at his conduct, "What do you mean?"