At the End of Summer || Mark Lee (NCT)

Special Chapter. Banana Milk

- August 3, 2018 -

Friday

My eyes fluttered open.

Where am I?

I slowly sat up straight, my head slightly aching and my body profusely sweating.

What... happened?

The room was unfamiliar. It was a bit dark, save for the low light emitting from the bedside lamp that was beside me.

I looked around, trying to recall what happened and why I was here. When I looked at my clothes, I was surprised to be wearing a large brown hoodie and grey pajamas.

These aren't mine.

I removed the brown hoodie as it was almost choking me and found the over-sized orange shirt that I'm wearing was drenched in sweat.

I looked at the alarm clock on the bedside table, it said 1:58 in the morning.

My eyes widened as I remembered bits of memories from last night. Or a few hours ago, for that matter. I was drunk, and I was at Mark's house.

I'm in his room... but where is he?

I looked around and examined it.

His room was large and spacious, with cream-colored walls and two windows. There were some pictures in frames of sceneries and a moderate-sized painting of mountains. His wardrobe was at the far right of the room from the bed, and it was quite big.

Well, I wasn't surprised. He has lots of clothes. Not to mention, his headwear collection.

On the opposite side was his study desk, a black desk lamp and his laptop resting on it. From his bed, I could see papers on his desk, but they weren't cluttered. They were neatly piled up beside his laptop. His two guitars, the acoustic and the electric, were placed just beside the desk, both on its stands.

Mark hated school stuff, even though he's a Math genius. But if there's one thing he's really passionate about, that would be music. He's very talented in music. At times, I wonder if the girls at school like him for that.

I know I do.

In the middle of the room was a blue round carpet on the floor, with nothing on it but space. It was like in my room, except that I had a beanbag.

Wow, I thought as I admired his room.

It was neat and clean, for a guy's room. When I looked again on his bedside table, I noticed a small picture frame next to the alarm clock. It was a small and old picture of him with his parents.

He must miss them a lot, I thought.

My throat felt dry when I gulped down, so I got off his bed and went out of his bedroom. My head was starting to hurt as I took more steps.

The hallway outside was brighter than his room. The light illuminated the way towards the other room, which I guessed was his aunt and uncle's room, and the way to the stairs.

I walked towards it as quietly as I could, not wanting to disturb anyone. I felt like I was intruding because I wasn't supposed to be sleeping here in the first place.