wingate gardens -got7 ✓

38- american hell pt2

3 days before jaebeom's plan begun.
3 days before jinyoung forgot how to care about mark....

the plane landed, and mark and youngjae got off, the smell of american air (even though it didn't really have a distinct smell), leaving mark restless and raw. he hated how familiar it was.

the people in boardshorts and bikinis, being able to see the sea on the horizon, that sweaty smell of americans that can't seem to be replicated anywhere else. the town they walked through looked so horribly, horribly the same- the same restaurants, the same cracks in the pavement. hell, mark even saw a few people he recognised. the guy running mark's regular café even waved at him with a shout of, "nice to see you two together again!!"

youngjae smiled back and bumped his shoulder with mark's, "not so bad is it?"

"i hate you." mark whispered, not even bothering to look to youngjae, eyes still trained on the red tainted pavement that he knew so well.

youngjae sighed, though he didn't think too much of it. he knew mark was just upset, and when they had a chance to sit down and be alone for a moment, he would explain everything.

they walked for a while, mark's stomach flipping over and over again as they moved further from the beach, and the buildings became sketchier, and dirtier.

things only got more familiar.

the graffiti lining the walls, he had stared at it so many times over. of course, his mind immediately thought of the graffiti on his door back home in wingate.

home.

was wingate really his home now?

eventually, they began walking down the street that mark knew the best- the one he lived on. and there was his house, a squat bungalow, so squashed and small that you could barely see it from the top of the road.

youngjae reached over and rubbed his arm, though he quickly recoiled.

"ready to see your dad?"

he started walking before youngjae, "fuck off."

of course he wasn't ready, that man had ruined so many years of his life. and even if it wasn't his fault, even if it was because he was so sad about losing his wife that he simply couldn't cope, mark still resented him for it.

and he resented him for not keeping joey alive.

"he's 2 months sober." youngjae added, catching up as mark stopped right outside the house. the windows were grimy and shuttered, so he couldn't see in, couldn't see how familiar that would look too.

"i don't fucking care."

and he didn't. he just wanted this week to go as quickly as possible so he could go back home and go back to jinyoung who he was quickly realising might be the love of his life.

he'd even take the threats from jaebeom sympathisers back at wingate over a single extra day with youngjae and his father.

they were the worst people he had ever known. no doubt. even if he had once loved them both.

mark knocked on the door, expecting to see his father, stubble shading his jawline, eyes dead, sporting a dressing gown and slippers. he expected to smell the alcohol, to see how he stumbled and slurred.

youngjae's eyes darkened the minute he rapped his knuckles on that door, mark's ex knew exactly what was about to happen, and knew how badly mark would react.

joey opened the door.

joey tuan. joey who was meant to be dead.

an oxygen tank stood at his feet, and he looked hollow and empty.... yet very much alive.