Hold Me Tight

Hold Me 1: Cigs and Smoke

Hold Me 1: Cigs and Smoke

"What's wrong with him...? He used to be so cheery?"

"Yaa. Don't. What happened to him is horrible.."

"He is so problematic, he always skips class.."

"He used to be so fun. Now, I don't even know how to talk with him without feeling like crying."

People were once again talking about him. He used to enjoy attention but it is getting overwhelming because all attention on him was nothing but just pity.

He groaned and pushed his hoodie up to cover his head before plugging in his earpods. Hoping that the noise will die down and his vision will be limited to only the ground. 

He wanted to be invincible. 

So bad.

He was especially dreading today as he needed to go back to his mother's house. He is living alone, nowadays... It is better this way than going home to a new house where his mom bought further away from the school.

He went home to eat and not once, not once did his mom ever look at his eyes.

It pains him...

He knows why she never wanted to look at him long enough...

"You remind me of your dad too much.."

He remembers how miserable she was saying that to him.

He hated home now. He hated everything.

He was rummaging his closet and tried to pick all of his clothes and put it in his backpack.

"Sungjae. You need to understand eomma."

He stopped packing and looked at his sister. "Then who is going to understand me. I'm there with him when he died you know.." He said with his eyes closed... his composure was breaking the longer he looked at his noona so he continued shoving all the clothes inside his bag.

"I'm sorry Sungjae.."

"Aniyo noona. Take care of mom."

***

It is another day at school as he was standing at the edge of the rooftop, eyes closed as if he was trying to block the noises around him.

He looked around looking particularly annoyed as he steps over the safety part of the roof again. He plopped down to the floor, huffing. A pack of cigarettes was in his right hand, he opened it and took the cigarette out.

Contemplating... whether or not to smoke it.

The lighter was in his hand and all he needed is to light it up. However, he was stopped from his reverie when a small creaking sound of the rooftop door was produced.

It was a girl.

It was like a scene in the movie where the wind gently blew as her long hair was dancing in a hypnotising rhythm.

If it wasn't for her chubby cheeks she will be mistaken as a seductress with her dark and sorrowful eyes looking distrustful of her surroundings.

He believed it was his junior.

She looked younger than he was.

A freshman, maybe.

She bowed at him, eyes noting the cigarette on his hand which he had not bothered to hide. She curved a short smile and went to the other part of the rooftop, took out her own pack of cigarette. Put it in her mouth without hesitating, lighting it up and huffed out the smoke.