ʜᴇᴀʟ ʏᴏᴜ | taekook ✓

ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ.

Taehyung gets up from the bed he doesn't remember how he got to. He's still fully dressed, his mouth is drier than a dessert. He stands up a bit too fast and his world is spinning. He flops back down onto his bed with a grunt and massages his temples. Taehyung's hungover, extremely hungover. He ckecks the time on the little alarm clock on his nightstand. 09:23. After gulping down what felt like 3 liters, the man let's himself collapse back onto his mattress. His head is thumping as he squeezes his eyes shut in pain. Not for long though, as he remembers he is extremely late for work. "Shit", Taehyung finds it disgusting to not change into different clothes considering that he probably reeks of nightclub, but he can't waste a minute longer. He hopes the barista-apron of the little coffee shop he works at will cover it up. His shift started at 8. It only ends at 5 pm. Grabbing an apple to shove down his esophagus during the car ride, he packs his phone, keys and, of course, his jacket. The brown one. The usual.

About 6 minutes into the ride, he regrets not having taken any medication against the throbbing sensation in his skull. Or water at least. He already messaged Wooshik, his coworker, to calm down the pissed off shop owner. He's lucky he's a nice one, with a big temper. Hastily rushing through the door, that resounds the usual ding, he speed-walks behind the counter, fumbling with the strings of his apron in his back. "Wait I got it", Wooshik takes it upon himself to tie the fabric tightly and neatly around Taehyung's midsized waist, giving him a minute to breathe. "Did you crawl all the way here or what took you so long?", his friend laughs wholeheartedly. Wooshik is a good one. Taehyung likes him a lot. "Don't ask", Taehyung sounds tired, his voice rough from the dryness and the alcohol that burned his throat the night before. "Why didn't you stay home?", his friend sounding genuinely concerned. "You smell a little too if you don't mind me saying that", he says half apologizing and half holding back laughter. "Thanks", Taehyung replies sarcastically earning a playful slap on his arm from Wooshik, "who's gonna pay my bills then?". That's a valid concern. Taehyung isn't poor by any means, he's in the middle class he'd say. His new apartment is fairly big and in a less sketchy area of Seoul compared to his first one. Thanks to his job that pays surprisingly well due to the amounts of tips he gets from customers, especially the regulars, that have grown to adore him. But it's only because of his job. Taehyung doesn't really have a loving family that is ready to catch him whenever he falls. He's experienced it before and wouldn't like to go back to it.

Taehyung didn't even bother getting into college after he moved out. His efforts barely got him through high school. He's had different, far more important concerns. Such as coping. Coping with the mess of a family he has been blessed with. His dad left when he was 15 for another woman, causing his mom to spiral even deeper into her manic self. She is so scary when she explodes, which she does quite often. Scary enough to make a man as grown and tall as Taehyung shrink and melt into the floor. And it's painful. Emotionally and physically. He's her self-made punching bag. Or was. Occasionally still is when he does end up giving in to visit her like once every month. It's not that he's dying to do so, but it's his mother. She's harming herself more than him with the behavior she exhibits. She's digging her own miserable grave. Taehyung hopes to at least enjoy the very rare and few moments of...happiness ?...with his mother before she passes eventually. She is his only close family member that's in his life after all. He's still human. "Enjoy", Taehyung chuckles bitterly to himself as he prepares the 9th order of the day. A chai latte. With almond milk. Extra sweet. Their relationship is difficult. It's not all hell and agony. There sometimes is a bit of hope being lit inside of his desperate heart when they do laugh together. It's not all black and white. It's...grey. Muddy grey. Sometimes leaving him behind with a feeling of hope, most of the times leaving him behind with the feeling of what seems like an acute heart attack followed by a huge low in his depression.

"Here you go", Taehyung smiles warmly at the customer. A regular. She's in her 40s, slightly visible wrinkles decorating her eye area. He knows she's currently grabbing coffee before she leaves to up pick her daughter from Saturday school. The routine being burned into Taehyung's frontal lobe. Preparing the hot beverage the same way each time, only to then happily receive an astonishing 26,000 KRW tip, about 20 dollars. The clock finally strikes 2, indicating the arrival of his long awaited break. His headache comes and goes in waves. Being particularly strong now that he has time to focus on it. Walking through the back door of the kitchen into a small concrete backyard, he does it. He doesn't do it often, but now he really needs it. He shoves his large hand into the pocket of his leather jacket, that he grabbed on the way out, and takes out a cigarette, followed by a lighter. Holding the small stick in place between his chapped dehydrated lips and fingers, he lights it, drawing in the first wave of intoxicating hot air, filling his tired lungs. Peace. He closes his eyes and slowly blows the grey-ish smoke out of his airways.