Inspired by Songs.......Gongfourz Oneshots (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Not ok-Part 2:Perfect mess

It's midnight and I'm wasted, so wasted, I'm wasted
I can't believe I'm callin' you up again
I know I might be crazy, so crazy, I'm crazy
I can't believe I'm callin' you just to say
I'm not ok

It hurt.

God, it hurt so much that even people who barely talked to Leehan could tell something was off.
He'd been quieter, slower—eyes always somewhere else, lost in a memory he couldn't shut off.

All that too, in a matter of a few hours.

Riwoo and Woonhak had noticed, of course.
They always did.

"Hyung," Woonhak said one evening, practically bouncing into his room, "let's hit that new club nearby! Heard it's actually fun."

"Yeah," Riwoo added, leaning on the doorframe with a knowing look. "You could use a break. You've been... off ever since you returned from your 'project' today."

A new club nearby that was fun—something Leehan had always wanted to experience. It would lighten the mood... or so they thought.

Leehan wanted to accept it, but he couldn't. He wanted to tell them he was fine—to say he didn't need a break, that he wasn't falling apart over him.
But he couldn't.

Because he was out of his mind.

What did Taesan even mean earlier that day?
When he said he hadn't moved on either... did he mean it?
Or was that just another one of his cruel jokes—the kind that left Leehan's chest aching?

"I'll see about that," Leehan replied, eyes looking dead as ever.

Leehan hadn't planned on seeing him again so soon.
But fate? Fate was cruel like that.

He froze halfway down the campus steps.
There Taesan was—walking beside one of his friends, casual, easy smile on his face.
And next to him... a girl.

She was laughing at something Taesan said, bouquet of white tulips—his favorite—clutched in her hands.

Leehan's stomach twisted.
Those were his flowers.
The same kind Taesan used to bring him after every fight.

He couldn't breathe for a second—chest tight, jaw locked, heart screaming words he'd promised never to say again.

"Hyung?" Woonhak's voice snapped him back.
Leehan blinked, forcing a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"Let's go out."

Riwoo raised an eyebrow. "You mean... like now?"
"Now." His tone was sharp, final. "Club. Drinks. Whatever. I'm not staying here."

An hour later, the reflection in the mirror didn't look like heartbreak anymore.

Loose white shirt, collarbones teasing the light.
A few buttons undone—just enough.
Hair tousled, perfume sharp, eyes lined.

If he was going to burn, he'd make sure Taesan felt it too.

Riwoo whistled low when Leehan walked out.
"Damn, dude, you're gonna cause a problem tonight."
"That's the plan," Leehan muttered, grabbing his jacket.

Woonhak grinned. "You look like heartbreak and revenge had a baby."
Leehan smirked faintly, checking himself one last time.
"Good."
"Let him choke on it."

Taesan sat on the floor of his apartment, a half-finished beer dangling from his hand. A few empty bottles lay scattered around him, and on the table sat a half-empty bottle of whiskey—his newest bad habit.

His tolerance was high. Too high.
High enough that most people his age would've been passed out by now.
But not him.

Because it wasn't just the alcohol that had him reeling—
it was Leehan's words.