Painter in the night| Changjin

End of it

Hyunjin sat in the center of his dimly lit apartment, surrounded by the grotesque canvases that had become his only companions. The weight of his isolation was suffocating, the silence so thick that it pressed down on him like a physical force. The visit from the blonde boy lingered in his mind, a poisonous seed that had taken root, spreading its toxic influence through every corner of his psyche.

His hands trembled as he picked up the paintbrush, staring at the blank canvas before him. For days, he had tried to paint his way out of the darkness, to purge the anger and pain that festered within him. But nothing he created could soothe the storm that raged inside. Every stroke of the brush only seemed to deepen his despair, the colors bleeding into one another until they became a chaotic mess of rage and sorrow.

Hyunjin tossed the brush aside with a growl of frustration, running his hands through his disheveled hair. His heart pounded in his chest, a wild, erratic rhythm that matched the frantic thoughts swirling in his mind. He couldn't take it anymore. The pain, the betrayal, the constant reminders of everything he had lost—it was all too much.

And then there was the blonde boy.

Hyunjin's hands curled into fists at the thought of him, the image of that smug smile flashing through his mind like a warning. The blonde boy had become a symbol of everything that was wrong in Hyunjin's life—a toxic presence that refused to leave him alone. He was a leech, feeding off Hyunjin's pain, delighting in his misery. And Hyunjin was sick of it.

The anger that had been simmering beneath the surface for weeks suddenly boiled over, consuming him in a fiery wave of hatred. He couldn't do this anymore. He couldn't keep letting people like Seo and the blonde boy control his life, couldn't keep letting them drag him down into the darkness. He had to take control, had to rid himself of the poison that was slowly killing him from the inside out.

Hyunjin stood abruptly, the chair he had been sitting in clattering to the floor as he stormed across the room. His breath came in short, ragged gasps as he grabbed his phone from the table, scrolling through his contacts until he found the blonde boy's number. He had blocked it before, but the number was still there, taunting him with the reminder of how easy it had been for the blonde boy to worm his way into his life.

With shaking hands, Hyunjin unblocked the number and typed out a message, his fingers moving across the screen with a sense of purpose that surprised even him.

Hyunjin: "Meet me. We need to talk. Now."

He hit send before he could second-guess himself, the words flashing across the screen like a final nail in the coffin. He didn't know what he was planning, didn't care. All he knew was that he needed to see the blonde boy, needed to confront him, to put an end to this madness once and for all.

The response came almost immediately, the blonde boy's reply as smug as ever.

Blonde Boy: "Where? I'll be there 😉"

Hyunjin's mind raced as he considered his options. He couldn't do this at his apartment—there were too many memories there, too much of himself wrapped up in the walls of that small, suffocating space. He needed somewhere isolated, somewhere no one would think to look for them. Somewhere he could finally be free of the blonde boy's influence.

Hyunjin: "The old factory. You know the one."

He knew the place well. It was an abandoned building on the outskirts of the city, a relic of a time long past. No one ever went there anymore; it was a place that had been forgotten, just like him.

Blonde Boy: "See you soon."

The words sent a chill down Hyunjin's spine, but he pushed it aside, focusing instead on the task at hand. He grabbed his coat, shrugging it on as he made his way to the door. His hands were steady now, his mind clear. There was no turning back.