Hell Hole

Chapter One.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

That same continuous sound began to ring in Jeongin's ear repeatedly, even though it had discontinued sometime at the last rest stop.

There was something about that sound that drove him to the edge of madness. Still, He couldn't put that into perspective yet. He had to bear with it until it passed.

He leaned back in his seat, permitting his hands to wander down his pants and into the pocket, pulling out a pair of dangly, red earbuds. He put them in, plugging them into the auxiliary of his phone; a sudden relieved wave of emotion washing over him like an ocean pushing and then receding across him.

He closed his eyes, falling into a solemn state of mind, focusing on the beat.

It was constant, the little thump that was there, yet always changing depending on the song.

He focused on the lyrics as well, they were harsh and quite dark, but he enjoyed them as if they were his own.

His earbuds fell out at a sudden jolt in the bus's atmosphere, flying forward in the slowest fashion possible.

''Ssan Avenue." The conductor yelled back at the mostly empty bus. His eyes narrow, and He practically glared while He watched Jeongin get up and begin down the walkway, heaving out a curse as He flicked a switch, the compartment underneath the bus opening.

Jeongin grimaced, mumbling a quick thank you to the man before taking his time getting off the bus, his earbuds tangling between his fingers. He made his way towards the storage unit underneath the bus, pulling his case out from the suffocating space; the bus suddenly beginning the roll forward, causing his bag to fall and bash on the ground.

Curses spilled from the Boy's lips, practically ripping the bag open and grabbing out his computer; his eyes widened upon seeing the shattered screen, ''God." He spoke with a sigh laced between, getting up from his feet and zipping the luggage back up to its original state, beginning his long walk to nowhere in particular.

He had to check out places to live before anything and cheap ones.

Jeongin was broke, only just having started an internship at an office place, and without a lot of money, He surely couldn't afford luxurious things.

There was one place that He had his eyes set on, a Place for rent that only accumulated A hundred-fifty a month- and for Seoul, that was good, almost too good.

His eyes skimmed across signs and billboards, finally spotting the one He was looking for in the first place.

Jugyeom Studio.

The sign beat to the point the paint had partially faded, and only a thin outline remained. It didn't look bad, foresay.

Just different.

Jeongin groaned as He started his way up the steep hill.

''Someone could easily slip and break their neck from these stairs." Jeongin panted, a sheen layer of sweat already having formed on his forehead, using the back of his hand to wipe it off. He was about three-fourths of the way up, a cruel realization.

He felt that He was dead once He had made it up those wretched stairs, taking his precious time to open the studio's door, met with a smell of bleach or disinfectant.

Well, at least they clean?

He thought to himself, finding himself more stairs to climb up, inwardly sighing.