STYROFOAM [jaeyong]

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"You let me know love is not the answer, not the answer, not the answer. I love to do drugs, so mind my manners. I get high when you don't decide to answer. Phone home, I need to phone home. I'm throwing rocks at your window, I need to go home. I don't wanna leave, I just wanna be with you. You, you, you."

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

THE dark skylight of the large city of Seoul flew past, its colorful lights brightening up its surroundings by miles and livening up the lonely road the red car was traveling on.

Taeyong rested his head on the window, nibbling on his bottom lip and disregarding the stiff, uncomfortable mood that was set in the small space. Kun was driving him home after picking him up from a drug house and reprimanding the older. The Chinese may be a few months younger, but he was certainly a lot more wise. And when Taeyong said he was at 'so and sos house' he immediately knew that wasn't where the Korean intended to find himself and came to pick him up without any trouble.

Kun was one of his only friends that was an actual friend, but unfortunately, after he stopped drinking he became more of a babysitter. Taeyong knew he didn't want to be, and he told the other many times that he didn't have to force himself to do the things he did, but Kun felt the obligation to do so because the 'what ifs' were all too real. And he didn't want to be guilty or feel regret for not helping someone that he labeled as his friend.

So here they were.

Taeyong sighed, the reflection of the city moving inside his iris, it's blinding lights filling up his dark eyes. He watched as cars zoomed past, as dark figures walked on the busy sidewalks, and as the loud, bustling metro waited for pedestrians to board.

This is what Seoul was—a city fertile of lost dreams. It was such a fulfilling place. The lights bathed Taeyong in its warmth and the chattering and lively noises that surrounded him made him feel as if he'd never need someone to talk to again. There were so many opportunities, so many things to see, and so many unique individuals to learn about.

He wondered what manifested in his mind to where he thought of Seoul of something else; a hideaway, an escape, and a distraction. It never felt the way it probably should, because he was too fucked up in the head to begin with to even let it and see the place through a lens full of anything but blurred highs and pessimism.

"You really need to stop this life, Taeyong."

The boy lifted his head off of the glass, his eyes shifting from the river to the one in the driver's seat. He rested his temple on his fist, his other hand playing with a loose string on his long sleeved shirt. Kun kept his eyes on the road despite the latter coldly staring at his profile.