𝒐𝒐𝒐. "I didn't write this to forget who I am as a person nor did I write it for money out of desperation. I wrote this because I know, one day, someone will find this story in the corner of a library, squeezed between forgotten stories with a dus...
Kim Hongjoong. March 24th, 1980. | Monday, 3:45 PM.
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Hongjoong did as Wooyoung told him to do, and waited for him at the entrance of the school. The redhead male sat on an almost empty bike rack as his brown eyes watched other students exit the building. Couples held hands or smooched one another goodbye, friends chatted and laughed while the others waved goodbye. And, with a small handful of other students dashing out the building and in the direction of their home — something Hongjoong wished he could have done.
Hongjoong plays with one of the chains on a bike, humming a soft tune while he waits for the stoner. Wooyoung was taking forever, he's been waiting for almost twenty minutes now. Another thing added to Hongjoong's pet peeves; waiting, whether it's waiting for someone or waiting for something, he simply hates it. Honestly, he desperately wanted to leave and head straight home, but he told himself to make friends, forcing himself to go against his desperation and remained in his spot.
"What the hell you doin'?" Hongjoong snaps his head in the direction of the speaker, flushing from his anger upon the boy's face. He looked to be a first-year from his baby-face— round cheeks flushed in bitterness with youthful eyes, however, the visible black mark on his left eye along with a newly busted upper lip covered with a small pink bandaid; he looked like a person Hongjoong should never mess with. Despite the latter's appearance of them being younger, plus the girly bandaid.
"I, uh, sorry. I-Is this your bike?" Hongjoong asks stupidly, removing his hand from the chain and pointing at the black bicycle. All Hongjoong could think of was, 'Please don't jump me'.
"Yes, it is my fuckin' bike. Why the fuck was you touchin' it? Does it belong to you? I think the hell not." The boy growled, baring his teeth at the older male as if he were some feral animal, clenching his fist with a lethal scowl.
"S-Sorry! I-I don't mean to come off like I-I'm trying to steal it, I-I was just playing w-with the chain b-because I'm waiting on a friend. I-I got a little bored—"
"Just playing w-with the c-chain," The brunette mocked. "Don't fuckin' touch people's shit, retard. Next time I catch you playin' with my fuckin' chains, I'll fuckin' shove the chains down your fuckin' throat." The boy threatened before yanking the chains open as it didn't have a proper lock and aggressively snatched his bike out of the rack.
"S-Sorry again!" Hongjoong yells once the guy turns his back, shortly regretting it as the boy flipped him off before riding away on his bicycle.
"Dude, that was hella crazy!" Wooyoung giggled, popping up behind the rack, lifting himself up and over the bars. "Don't mess with him, I think his name is, uh, Jongho? I dunno, all I know is that they call him a fuckin' brute, and he means every one of his words. Trust me, I've seen it. A couple of times, too."
