H A N E U L 하늘 | jjk + kth

一

JEONGGUK DOESN'T REMEMBER THE LAST TIME HE FELT LIKE A TANGIBLE ENTITY.

He can't decipher the moments where people caressed their hands through his body, seeping into his veins and draining him till he was nothing but an empty shell. He doesn't remember the last time he felt real. As if, someone looked at him, really looked at him, and saw him as though he existed.

He doesn't mind.

When you're a phantom, no one cares what you do. When you're something no one can remember, you get away with a lot. That's why Jeongguk continues to rip apart anyone who crosses his path. The only way he can feel anything anymore is when he's leaving the sheets of girls' beds and stuffing their still-beating hearts in his pockets. He waits until they try to call him, fully aware that he gave them his number the night before.

When they call him, he knows he's won.

Jeon Jeongguk isn't a monster. He's just the embodiment of how nasty the world is, how filthy the city of Seoul is, how vulnerable the insects that litter the streets will always be.

Jeongguk is starving, and so is Seoul.

"We're going out again this Friday, right?" A soft voice emits itself from the other line of the phone, "To Kim Seokjin's dinner party? Hoseok invited us just last week."

Jeongguk suppresses a groan as his eyes find themselves scanning the room for his pack of cigarettes before rubbing both of his hands over his face and muttering a response to the girl, "Of course we are."

Truth is, he had already forced the dinner party to the back of his mind and made plans with some girl from class to go clubbing. If it weren't for the invitation to be extended by Jung Hoseok, the ultimately sweetened thorn in Jeongguk's side, he'd have already canceled.

"What colors are you wearing?"

"Why does it matter?"

The girl sucks in a sharp breath, waiting a few seconds before quietly answering, "I wanted to coordinate."

Of course she did. They always like to show Jeongguk off like he's property.

Jeongguk parts his fingers and peers through them as his eyes settle on the smashed pack of Marlboro's laying beside the small waste basket. Surely, he didn't try to throw them away, did he? Maybe his roommate had thought they were empty and tried to toss them out.

Jeongguk pushes himself off the bed and stalks across the room, leaning down to pick up the box and open it, taking inventory of the twelve sticks crinkled inside. "I'm just wearing a suit. Black and white, the classic style." Jeongguk says as he sticks one of the cigarettes in his mouth and tosses the box on a nearby desk.

"Oh, alright!" The girl chimes almost instantly, "I'm definitely sure I have a black cocktail dress somewhere in my closet."

Her name is Kim Yerim if Jeongguk remembers correctly. He doesn't mean to forget their names on purpose, but in his defense, they've only been talking for the past week, and they barely text every other day. She just happens to be a mutual friend of Jung Hoseok and was there when the obnoxious partygoer offered the invite.

Jeongguk hums in agreement as he grabs his lighter from the end table and brings it close to the end of the stick to light it, inhaling sharply as soon as the dry vapor begins to fill his mouth.

"You're actually going to be there, right?" The voice emitted from the girl sounds unsure, insecure. Jeongguk knows firsthand that Hoseok hasn't hesitated to warn Yerim of Jeongguk's feelings toward relationships. The way he's known to treat girls. The way he keeps them in his own little world until he's had enough and tosses them to the side. The uncertainty swirling in her vowels fails to slip past Jeongguk's senses.