FEELINGS | MARKHYUCK

- 1 -

C H A P T E R  O N E

MARK was a delinquent, as most would see him as one. The leather jacket, the bed hair style, the piercings, and the way he would talk and walk. His vibe gave off bad ones, and he wanted them to. He didn't care what others thought, and never really spoke to anyone he didn't know. He wasn't interested in anything but himself, and could give zero cares about what your opinion is.

Mark was walking, in an alleyway to be exact. In a town he's never seen before, but acted like he knew it from the back of his hand. This is how you let people think you live here, and your not an outsider.

Why he's here? His family was broken apart, finally. It might seem like a bad thing to wish your family apart, but for Mark, his story wasn't always so perfect. His father, a drug addict, was getting violent some days with him and his mother. His mother on the other hand, was sick, and he couldn't do anything but watch her die before his eyes.

He remembers that time, where her hand went limp before his eyes, and he cried a whole week. That's when his heart turned from flesh, to cold hard stone. He started doing bad in high school, getting into fights and his grades dropped from A's to F's, and that's when he dropped out. He was all messed up in so many different ways, he did underaged drinking, he tried out drugs, but it was all for the fun of it. He made himself look and feel like a fool.

He knew what he was doing, but never stopped. He let his tempting and sinful ways overcome him, and let himself fall apart one by one. His father was now sick, and he's probably going to be lying on his death bed in just a few months. He didn't know what else to do after his father is gone, he would be alone in the world, no support, nobody.

It sent shivers down his spine at the thought.

He kept walking until he started to notice that the night was entering the once cloudy sky, and took notice of the downtown area he was in. Homeless people were here and there, but there were more people out smoking and lighting bomb fires if anything. He noticed how everyone seemed to have motorcycles, and cigarettes in their mouths.

'That was never a thing in the city.' Mark thought.

He then slowly felt out of place, as he started to get looks from others. He felt his heart beat a little, but quickly started to walk slower and slagging a little. He then tilted his head up a little to show confidence, and put his hands in his leather jacket pockets. His ripped black jeans had a black belt, and his tight black shirt inside made him look normal in the area.

The looks slowly went away, and Mark could hear motorcycles start up and roar. He then started to get closer to an alleyway, and that's when he started to hear chatter. There was multiple voices, and many were deep and monotone. Mark continued to walk, and got closer to the voices. He could finally hear them loud and clear now, and hoped to pass by the inner sect without causing attention.

They had other plans.

"Hey!" One yelled out. Mark tried to ignore as he kept walking, his face on a 'I don't care' level.

"Hey kid!" Another yelled, Mark finally gave out a frustrated sigh as he turned around.

"What?" He flatly said. That's when his eyes almost went wide at what he saw.

A biker gang had been calling him, and all of them had the same leather jackets. Mark noticed all of them were pretty good looking, but the one calling him was a tan, tall, silver haired boy. He was sitting on a bike with a teasing smile.

"No need for attitude cutie." He said with a teasing tone.

Mark raised an eyebrow as the other got off his bike and walked over, the others in the gang went back to what they were doing; which was throwing stuff in a tin canned fire.

"Never seen you around here, what's your name?" Mark watched him lean against a wall and take out a cigarette. Lighting it he inhaled it, and blew out a cloud of smoke that disappeared in the air.

"Mark."

Mark felt uneasy about this boy, but couldn't help but feel attracted. His features were on point, and the way he talked made him seem to surreal.

"I'm Donghyuck, but my people call me Haechan." The other said, and pushed himself off the wall as he walked closer to Mark. Mark felt his heart skip a little as the other came close.

"You can too." He whispered in a low tone, so that only him and Mark could hear.

Mark could feel the tension between them, and he could feel the breaths of the others getting close. He felt a shiver go down his spine, and almost leaned in to a unfamiliar smile.

Mark finally realized what he was doing, and shook himself internally of the thoughts as he furrowed his eyebrows.

He just met this person.

"Well, for you Information I'm not your people, and I don't want to be." Mark said harshly, and pushed the other away slightly with a pointed finger. He then started walking away from so called 'Haechan.'

"We'll see cutie! Someday you gonna be on the back of this bike, just wait!" The other yelled, and by the tone of his voice Mark knew he was smiling.

Mark didn't reply as he kept walking, mumbling curses under his breath.

Haechan watched him walk away, taking notice of the arrogant sways and motion of the hips that made him lick his lips dry.

'I've never really been someone to give attention to others so easily,' Haechan thought for a moment as a small smile grew to his lips, watching the figure of another disappear.

'But I've think you caught mine, Mark.'