SEXYBACK : hyunsung ✓

𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄

You'd think, now that Hyunjin got what he wanted, he was content. He was back at the club, performing one rowdy performance after another, and living life to his fullest. If it wasn't for the little aggravating noise in the back of his head he could fake being happy.

It had to remind him with every ounce of power it had over his body, that nothing was okay. That the bandaids didn't cover the wound and didn't stop the bleeding. That he lost another friend, that the person of comfort never wanted to talk to him again, and that no one in the club cared about him anymore.

Because it's one thing to keep the business going, but the new owners simply couldn't care less. Kira and Seungmin became distant. They were so busy and loaded with the responsibilities that came with running the penthouse that there were no housekeepers anymore. No there was no one Hyunjin could turn to for advice. No one to restock the pickles in the fridge and no one to buy cheaper outfits and make-up. Sure the regulars were still there, but who cares for some middle-aged fucks with boring lives.

Yeah... Who cares for a middle-aged stripper with a harsh reality. No one. The loneliness shouldn't surprise him the way it did. In fact, Hyunjin found himself frustrated with himself and the emotions he just couldn't push back any further. If you hit rock bottom, there was simply no "later" to refer to.

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So every time he found himself alone in his apartment, he felt like a mouse in a cheese storage room. He had everything he wanted. Money, the club, and himself. He had proven his point, mainly to himself, but he did. But as he stared off into the distance, hands folded around a cup of tea, he wondered if the medal was worth the prize. If he had sold his power to the devil, and every evil little thing he ever did in his life now pulled his body, trying to bring him six feet under.

"No," Hyunjin shook his head and emptied his tea. The warm liquid heated up his empty neglected body, which was nothing but the playground of his own thoughts to fight a war against himself.

 Hyunjin had put his phone on DND ever since he came back from graduation. Besides checking the comments and likes under his Instagram posts to boost his ego, he avoided his phone like he was allergic to it.

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Hyunjin knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, that Jisung had tried to contact him. Well, maybe a tiny portion hoped he did. That maybe he wasn't this pathetic unlovable piece of dirt and perhaps all Hyunjin really needed was a good hug and the world would be okay again. It was like torture, seeing the messages and calls pop up on his phone. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't bring himself to pick it up.

He felt sick to his stomach. And the feeling wouldn't go away. No matter what he was doing. An unhealthy addiction to porn was just one of the many side effects of the reality he warped the here and now into.

His days merged together, and he fell into a rabbit hole called the internet.

Porn, scrolling till his thumbs hurt, staying up all night or not even sleeping at all; all of that was okay to him. When the typical Hyunjin mindset had gained the upper hand in the war within himself, he was convinced that this was okay.

 He found enough "depressed" people on TikTok who described their lives and their feelings. He found his people and he had found his place in their rows. If he stayed in that bubble, everyone would agree with him that what he was doing was how a normal person would react.

He obviously didn't look behind the scenes. 

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The videos he was watching romanticized depression and serious mental illness. That his online friends weren't only lying to him but they were lying about their age as well. And truly, it would hurt anyone who'd cared about the man to see him believing it.