𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒘𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒄𝒊𝒈𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒔 : 𝒘𝒐𝒘𝒌𝒘𝒂𝒏

silence

When a pattern is broken, people are effected. 

It's like a delayed airplane, or traffic jams. It stuns us and makes us detour and boggles our brains for a brief moment because we like control and patterns. Humans like repeating days and predetermined events.

Change is strange and new and scary.

Yuchan is down with the flu, Junhee has the graveyard shift, and Donghun is partying.

Their  meet up is canceled and Byeongkwan is fidgety.

It's passed 2 a.m.
The house is silent, it's always silent.

Silence bugs him, makes him twitch and feel uncomfortable. He can always hear the slight tone in his ears, he can heart his own heart beat. It's unnerving.

Subconsciously he makes noise, shifting on his bed, the sheets rubbing together and creating sound. Humming to himself, uneven tones now feel like amplified guitar rifts.

He sighs, fingers twitching and legs rocking.

Byeongkwan stands up, head dizzy as blood rushes, and stumbles to his desk. He grabs his wallet and the small glass jar that guards the surface, the change clanking inside noisily. He counts out it all, out loud but whispered, he needs out.

He has just under $5, sad really.

Byeongkwan blares his music through his black earbuds. His feet scuff the ground as he walks, hands burried in his hoodie pouch and head down to the path he walks.

The air is chilled and it starts biting his cheeks, but he doesn't care. The threat of silence is too great.

He thinks. Thinks about his friends. About Donghun couch hopping, spending time with sellers and unsavory people. About Yuchan overworking himself to please his parents, how he's sick and probably getting blamed. Junhee working two jobs to support himself and his friends.

He wonders about his blank future.

Byeongkwan wonders how he'll handle it all, but he knows the answer of no. He can't. He's scared and unprepared, he's a kid trying to seem grown. The pressure scares him. He's so terrified.

He wonders when he'll crash. He expects it soon, the itch is there but he denies. He prays it leaves but the thoughts are there, haunting whispers or questions and demands.

His skin burns, but not from the cold.
His heart hearts but not from heart break.
He's scared but not from the known.

Air feels like water and burns the lungs that beg for oxygen. Shoulders ache from the weight being held. Legs scream from the years of running around the inevitable.

The store lights become home, the early morning heavens plains that comforts and hugs.

The trip is short, he's in and out with only a bottle of Coke and mint gum, such a horrible combination.

The air is cold again, a stark contrast from the warm embrace of the stores heating. He shivers and slowly steps away, cracking the bottle open with a hiss.

"you and your friends seem to love it here..."

He jerks, the voice spooking the fuck out of him to the point that he inhales the soda and hacks up a lung.

As he's busy tearing up, the carbonation burning his air way, a laugh starts. Soft and amused that almost pisses him off.

It takes a few minutes for him to calm down, eyes blurry and throat aching as he stands up tall and turns to the voice.

It's ironic, the statement made.

Sehyoon leans against the wall, like a painting amongst the graffiti and trash. Cigarette between his fingers and the smell of cologne and nicotine filling the air around him like a dome.

Byeongkwan scoffs.
"Says the one who's been here everytime we show up..."

The smile that grows on chaps lips makes Byeongkwan twitch. Perfect teeth and gums show and eyes curve in the best way. He didn't ask for that smile, why is it there?

Sehyoon let's the smile fall, slowly, and brings the glowing stick to his lips, inhaling deep and true. As he exhales so does his reply leave with the smoke, like magic.

"I live down the block..."

Byeongkwan hums, curious but cautious.

A pause.

"How's Donghun?

The question surprisingly confuses Byeongkwan. He blinks and tilts his head, but then he feels sad. A burn in his chest.

"I honestly don't know...I know he's at a party right now, or something."

"...oh..."

The awkwardness that build is suffocating, as the night life noise echos around them they both shift their weight.

Byeongkwan frowns, sighing suddenly and speaking up, hearing dogs bark off in the distance.

"Well I gotta go..."

The hand that grabs him burns, the smelted metal on flesh.

"Wait...give me your number"

He's confused more now, they don't know each other and yet here he is, handing his phone to said stranger silently.

The screen glow blinds them both, awkwardly tapping on a new phone like children sharing glasses.

Sehyoons phone is cracked. It hurts his fingers as he types.

He hands it back, awkward and shakey.

He gets a smile, perfect teeth and curved eyes. He smiles back, less bright but still kind and sweet, awkward.

He's just passed the large sign on the edge of the parking lot when his phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out and blinks.

From: S.Yoon
walk home safe kid

When Byeongkwan turns around to see the sender, the smoke cloud long gone.

He smiles again, a warm feeling in his chest.

It's 3 a.m. when he slips back into his room. His clothes are cold and his bed is comforting.

It's still silent, but he just turns on his music again and replies to the only message in the thread.

To: S.Yoon
goodnight

From: S.Yoon
Goodnight to you too kid