𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐰 || sansang

1⋆Hurricane

____________________________

I'm caught on the fence
I'm either happy or I wish I was dead
My life is a mess
I fucking love it even though I'm depressed

_____________________________

SAN

Choi San is best described like the wind; something you can feel, but never truly reach.

Sometimes calm and pleasant like a refreshing breeze on a hot summer's day, other times wild and vicious like a hurricane - destroying everything it comes near.

Lately he has found himself to be more like the latter, both to others and himself, being too fed up with life to give a damn about who he hurts, or how much damage he causes along the way.

The reflection in the mirror is telling the world the same lie it tells himself; that his life is perfect, he is perfect. His face is gorgeous, ethereal, he can do anything and he can get anyone he wants.

But inside he is a mess. His mind is filled to the brim with the thoughts that keep piling up, suffocating him, entrapping him in what feels like his own hell of misery, in which the last remaining part of his soul will burn for all eternity.

Inside, he isn't just falling apart; he is already beyond broken.

And so he tries to distract himself with anything that will make him feel alive, free, even for just a brief moment.

Alcohol, drugs, self-harm, tons of one-night stands, he's done it all.

But he still feels lost within himself.

Just numb.

She would be so disappointed in him, if she knew what he had become, how he has wasted his life.

But she doesn't, and she never will.

With that in mind he continues to live his life this way; without a care, without love.

Because life is just a game where everyone loses in the end, so why should he even bother?

✧

"You are late, again."

The familiar tone of disappointment greets San the second he steps through the staff-room door. His boss' frowning face and crossed arms are waiting for him like any other day.

"Wow. Tell me something I don't know, Hongjoong."

San doesn't let the death stare from Hongjoong bother him as he walks in, carelessly throwing his coat over the backrest of a chair next to him before taking a good, long look at himself in the big mirror on the wall. A tense silence spreads across the room while San takes his time tucking his dark purple silk shirt into his black pants. 

Finally, Hongjoong impatiently clears his throat, breaking the silence.

"Cut the crap, Choi. If you didn't bring in so much dough for this place, you know I'd kick you out right away."

"Relax, Joongie!" San scoffs, well aware of how Hongjoong hates it when he calls him nicknames.

His boss might not be the biggest person, but what he lacks in height he makes up for in personality. The authority that follows him like a shadow, scares even San. But it's not like he'll ever admit that.