BOSS | NCT

o44

Pendulum of lies have been circling my whole years of existence. Fear and anxiety dwelled inside my chest as I looked at Lucas, pale and stoic, as the daredevil held his wrist.

A chip is heavy and solid. I noticed that when I held Lucas' arms when we fell asleep together. Everytime he stroked my skin, I couldn't help but to feel that his left hand exerted an electrifying current from it. That was where his chip was located. Lucas' left hand is usually colder than his right one. I don't need any explanation from him to clarify that the neon gem is sucking an energy and, undeniably, an amount of blood from his hand.

He didn't tell me if it hurt. He just told me it's special and important. A thought barged in my head that without his chip, a thing as simple as riding the train couldn't be guaranteed. Without that thing, Lucas is powerless.

I felt my stomach tighten when Nakamoto encircles his slim fingers around Lucas' wrist - perhaps a little too tightly - for I noticed Lucas wince at the touch.

Beads of sweat started pooling my forehead and bangs as I tried to catch my breath.

This is madness.

"Anyone," Nakamoto declared, his voice as loud as it always was "Hand me over something sharp."

The amount of people who raised their hands from the audience could probably reach to a hundred. I squeezed my eyes for a moment, hoping that they would drop their hands back to their seats.

But of course, a show is a show.

And they're enjoying it.

"A blade, perhaps. Preferably something small, something sharp," Nakamoto hummed "I would give a handsome price to the one who will provide."

Still more people raised their hands in the air.

Lucas' expression steeled, but the look of fear in his eyes was very clear.

Nakamoto cocked his head over one area "You," he said it like an order "Give to me what you can offer."

The one he chose was a man. A bulky one. He looked pleased to be chosen, wielding a silver piece in his right fist. I shuddered as he approached Lucas and Yuta, a triumph grin pasted on his face, as he handed the cutting weapon to his ruler.

Nakamoto ran his finger along the blade, inspecting the red droplet at his fingertip, as if he was testing if the knife was sharp enough. "Good," he paused to look at the man, never bothering to close his wound. "You are now dismissed."

The man bowed before he made a safe distance away from the two.

My heartbeat accelerated as I continued watching them in fear and heartache.

"Yukhei," he mumbled, positioning the wedge of the blade at the skin of Yukhei's wrist. "I hope you know," his eyes flickered "what this means for the both of us."