SEXYBACK : hyunsung ✓

𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑

Hyunjin was too tired of his own shit. He couldn't understand himself nor hold his tongue. And even when every bone of his body ached to apologize right away, he couldn't. 

Realizing you're not a good person, or realizing you're not as much in the right as you thought you were hits like a brick. Well, it hit Hyunjin like a whole building seeing the chaos called his life in front of him.

In the beginning, all the new input as he ran away from home was enough to keep him occupied. Later it was weed and liquor that helped him forget. Now, what felt like the end of everything, was sex. If his body was busy, his mind would be occupied for maybe a good two minutes.

.

He stared a hole into the brick wall inches in front of his face as the stranger used him. The endorphins apparently decided to take the day off. The sound of their skin meeting for a sloppy clap was drowned out by the traffic outside the alley and the thunderstorm raging on.

"You like that you slut?" and other vulgar words were moaned into his ear. Hyunjin didn't respond. He wasn't moving an inch. His behind burned, and the rain was watering down the poor amount of lube that he used. Nothing could soothe the damage the man was causing.

"Here," the old man said, throwing a few loose bills on the ground and buckling his pants up. "Finally one that just shut up and takes it." He scratches the stubble on his chin. Even with the non-existent lights, you could see the dirt building up under his nails and the sweat collecting in the lines on his face. Hyunjin's stomach turned.

Without another word, he left. His engine howled and soon his car mingled with the dozen others in the traffic jam. If the dancer hadn't cried all day, he'd surely be sobbing by now. Hyunjin counted the 10 dollars and pocketed them before leaving the dark as well. 

He found himself yet again trotting beside the road, tugging at his shirt so it would at least cover his shoulder. He was trembling and tripped over his feet multiple times.

.

Old Habits were hard to break. No matter how far he ran away from his past, the haunting reminders of the life left behind chased him. With every step and every breath he took, every thought he thought, eventually his past came back.

And he couldn't keep on running. His lungs hurt. He needed new bones, new skin, a new mind just to get a chance to keep going. Maybe if he died he could. Starting a whole new life didn't seem so bad.

His feet and hands had lost all feeling by now, the color in them slowly fading and it took more and more effort to even lift his legs. Every step was like another chapter in a book no one read, so badly written and hard to follow like the author himself could be nothing but pathetic.

His thoughts were interrupted by another car stopping. 

.

So started a vicious circle. The men did whatever they wanted to, left close to no money and when Hyunjin was beside the street it took less than ten minutes for another person to show up.

This was Hyunjin punishing himself. Selling his body like the useless scum he was. Perhaps that would finally teach him a lesson. That's what he thought this out to be. In reality, his consciousness was nowhere in sight.

Everything seemed like it was happening miles away from him, though he knew what was happening to him. He didn't feel it anymore. He wasn't even present in his own self. Hyunjin was floating far away from it, watching the cruelties other people do to him that others wouldn't even have the guts to think about.

Men who weren't satisfied with their wives, men who were talked down upon by their boss, who were bullied and shamed for the way they were took their emotions out on someone who deserved it. Hyunjin. All the frustration, self-hatred, and fragile masculinity took form on Hyunjin's frame, painting him a mismatched palette of red and blue. Dried blood on the side of his face running down his leg.