Fake Love

Chapter 31

Mins POV:

This is fucked up!

This whole situation has been blown out of proportion!

Here I am, just trying my best to do my fucking work. I succeed, of course, I'm not an imbecile and I even decide to do a little victory celebration for myself before deciding to head back before everything explodes tomorrow. Now, I'm drunk often, high a lot and probably never actually sober, but I do fucking know how to stay in my lane and not cause any trouble.

If I decide to cause trouble, it is purely intentional and I always plan it out to the tiniest little detail. I never make mistakes, never! However, my fucked-up piece of pretended family, can't even fucking keep it together for one night. One fucking night before everything were to happen and this is what we're currently dealing with?!

Jeon getting himself caught. How? How the fuck is even that possible? That little monstrosity usually has everything under control, what changed?! Then Jung messing everything up by letting him get captured. Oh yes, I do blame it on that fucked up corrupt piece of shit pretended officer that thinks he can walk above law and order. The repulsing smile he has that covers half his face makes me sick. Well who's the one laughing now!?

Then there's the little victim who has managed to brainwash the only person I thought had a brain in this house. The silver-haired moron is currently walking around, complaining about how he feels torn between this and that. How he had the most difficult task among all of us and now feels unsure about whether or not he has done the right decision.

I scoff at him. Sinking further into the chair I'm situated in before deciding to roll myself a calm one. We're waiting for RM anyways who suddenly got a phone call from who, I can only guess. V pulls his hair in frustration before plopping down in the sofa across from me. I wince and pull a grimace when the first couple of tears makes its way to the surface of his eyes.

The fucking bastard is crying. Crying! There's no room for crying or fucking emotions in general in this fucked up world we live in. We're not entitled to cry, were not allowed to have emotions in this profession and the majority of us have no problems with it. Mr. Sippy in the sofa however has suddenly decided that he's allowed to show his emotions. Ewe, it makes my stomach twirl and not just because of the coke I sniffed before coming back.

"Will you fucking stop it!" I growl, licking the end piece of the paper to finish my fag before I ignite it. The smoke goes straight to the ceiling, following the fan in a circling motion before it becomes invisible. I visibly relax, my eyes probably turning red and drying up, but who gives a fuck.

That's right, no one. We don't give a fuck about anyone in this house. Sure, we live together, sure we play nice towards each other and occasionally show each other mutual respect. But in the end, we are all alone. Everyone for themselves. That's how it's always been, that's how it always will be, at least for me.

I don't make friends; I make enemies and I always keep my enemies close to me. That's how I know they will never betray me, that's how I know I will always be a step ahead. People don't expect things from me. Everyone thinks I'm the pothead. The one that you can easily trick because he never sees what's coming. Well, guess again idiots! I'm the smartest one in this house and apparently the only one left with a fucking brain.

There's RM of course, but his head has been corrupted with the taste of revenge. His brain has been molded into believing that there's only one purpose in life. That's fine by me, whatever floats his boat I guess, but he knows to never underestimate people.

The devil himself makes his entrance, trying to hide the fact that he's mourning. I can see it. He can't hide it from me. His face heated up, his ears red and his eyes trying to force the water back into its canals. He scowls at me, but I only lean further back offering him my joint. He sighs, taking a deep drag before sitting down in the armchair next to me.

"The fuck's wrong with him?" he spots V who's currently going through an existential crisis, contemplating all his life choices. "don't know, don't care," I simply say, rolling myself a new one as I didn't get to finish my first. "Sorry for your loss by the way," I comment nonchalantly, watching his face contour in anger and sorrow. "Don't be, saw it coming." Bullshit! He's just trying to keep his tough act up. 

He's broken on the inside.

"Sure you did," I stand up, heading towards the bar to pour myself a nice glass of the finest whiskey, complements of the house of course. It goes well with the grass I'm currently smoking. Taking a sip, I grimace as the taste travels down my system, attacking my nerves and making them feel numb. "Jung?" I turn around, sniffing. RM shakes his head; his crease position fully activated and he looks utterly miserable, making me snort. "Not tonight, I filled him in on everything though, he knows what to do," I nod my head.

The outside view is stunning. The darkness of the forest makes the stars look absolutely amazing. I admire them. Me being the only person who's currently in a good mood. 

"I can't save Jeon," RM utters from the chair, I don't care turning around, only nod. Pity. "I know," I state the obvious. Jeon's a dead man and it's his own fault. "I want to, but I can't." He whispers, defeated. "You don't have to explain yourself to me Joon, if anyone understands you, you know it's me."

"Do you regret it?" his question makes me momentarily freeze before I take another sip, finishing my whiskey. I sniff, "every day, every hour for the rest of my life." I will not change the fact that I did what I had to do, but if I knew it could have been done differently, I would have. 

Turning around I watch him nod in agreement, eyeing me as I refill my glass. I hand it to V, letting him drown his sorrows with alcohol so he will come back to his fucking senses and stop acting like a child.

"Tomorrow it is then," it hangs silently in the air. All of us mentally preparing for that fact that we might not survive tomorrow. It's a silent threat that's trying to kill us from the inside, trying to make us feel something, regret everything.

"You wanna have a funeral?" I suddenly ask, trying to think of something we can do together to change the topic. "what? Now?" he asks, I nod. "He deserves a proper burial after all you did to him!" I snarl, the truth coming out. He needs to hear it. Even I didn't think hyung deserved any of this, yet RM put him through all of it. The blackmail, the forced love, everything.

"He deserves it!" I growl, leaving the room, Annoyed and fed up with the both of them.