wingate gardens -got7 ✓

12- last call

this chapter might've moved quicker than it should've.. but at this point i just want things to get starteddddddd

the bar was crowded and mark's head was spinning, he swore he had never drunk so much alcohol in his life before going to the bar with jackson and bambam. his mind was racing, a thousand thoughts a minute and every single movement the others made beside him was heightened like the whole world was exaggerated.

bambam was screaming something that mark could only vaguely hear, "...so that's when i had to pull the cucumber out of his ass..." or something along those lines, mark could hardly pay attention, everything was so blurry.

"bambam shh," he heard jackson whisper, after bambam had finished the cucumber story and was moving onto something else, "tuan is wasted,"

mark choked down a gag as he slurred, "am notttt," leaning his head on jackson's shoulder and grinning, trying to ignore the headache that was making its way slowly to the front of his forehead.

jackson pushed him off, "you so are! you really can't handle your liqueur huh?"

"can too!" mark whined as he took yet another shot, grimacing as the liquid almost seared the back of his throat, "see!" he exclaimed even though he was coughing from the strong alcohol. jackson just rolled his eyes and wrapped an arm around bambam's shoulders.

bambam giggled, he really couldn't stomach alcohol and as far as mark knew from his washed up state, the thai had already thrown up in the bathroom twice.

jackson watched as bambam's laugh escalated. with a quick roll of his eyes, he muttered, "i'm friends with a bunch of fucking lightweights, what has my life come to?" 

mark was too drunk to address this and quite frankly, he didn't care all too much so he just lay back in his chair and allowed the alcohol to overcome him, the sound of bambam's laughter continuing long into the night.

after a while, the bar started to empty out and just as the trio were starting to make their move, (with bambam desperately chugging down the last of his alcohol), jackson's phone started to ring. mark almost laughed out loud when the ring tone was twice's "fancy,"

surprisingly sober and cheeks red from mark obviously being amused by his ringtone, jackson picked the phone up and sighed the minute the person on the other line began to speak.

"bambam pass me a pen from that neverending bag of yours," he said, resting the phone between his cheek and shoulder as he made grabby hands at bambam for the pen.

bambam let out a tiny hiccup as he dug into his bag to try and retrieve a working pen. but after a while he found one and swiftly handed it to jackson before turning back to the drink in front of him.

as the call continued, jackson hurriedly scribbled notes onto a napkin using bambam's pen. he looked stern and serious and mark started to feel himself sober up. the mood had darkened, he could sense jackson's easy-going nature swiftly trickling away with each curve of his pen.

he also noticed something odd. every so often, jackson would say something like, "okay yugyeom," or "thanks gyeom,"

it was confusing because yugyeom couldn't speak. so the minute jackson put down the phone, mark spoke up, "was that yugyeom? how was he talking to you?"

jackson smiled slightly, though not for long. he was original jackson once again, the mysterious, rude one that mark had first met, "we have our methods. and anyway, it isn't your business."

"wha-" mark was about to interrupt with some indignant reply of how he deserved to know the truth when bambam spoke up.

he, unlike mark, hadn't cleared the alcohol from his mind at all and was sat with his head lolling to the side and messy blonde hair warped into his eyes.

"- it's my fault," he said, and mark watched as tears gathered in his eyes. bambam stood up and shuffled up from under the bar table, stumbling as he did so and swiftly tumbling to the floor.

"what do you mean?" mark asked, running to bambam's side, as quickly as he could considering the significant stagger he had in his steps due to the alcohol. he crouched next to bambam as he wept, "what's your fault?"

"be quiet bamb-" jackson started but before bambam could even acknowledge what the older had said, he was wailing into mark's sleeve, "it's all my fault that yugyeom has to speak with morse code... IT'S MY FAULT HE DOESN'T HAVE A TONGUE,"

the tears fell fast from his face as his body curved in on itself. he shook and shook as he continued to cry. mark had no words, he just looked to jackson with a baffled expression.

jackson shook his head, "i told him to forget this." he grumbled, "i told him to leave it be."

bambam continued sobbing as mark glared at jackson, "what the fuck." he said, "are you not gonna help him?"

"this happens at least once a week, he feels bad. but we have to go," jackson said, grabbing his backpack and storming over to the bar door. by now more than a few people were looking at bambam crying on the floor however most were simply too drunk to care.

"we have to go now mark." jackson said, sterner this time, "park's in trouble."