- [COMPLETED]
jung wooyoung is a struggling college student who suddenly finds himself taking up this 'babysitting' job with a hefty amount of cash as payment.
only...this isn't any ordinary babysitting job. and the 'baby' in question is choi san...
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« life is tough can't lucid dream my way out of this one »
Wooyoung wakes up that morning the same way he always does -- tired, annoyed and dissatisfied. Eyes blearily taking in his dark, rusty ceiling with its peeling paint, he blinks; once, twice, and then turns on his side and slams 'snooze' on his phone. He doesn't care that he exerts more force than necessary, the old phone's screen was already cracked anyway.
The next time he wakes up is ten minutes later, and by then he's aware enough that the blurry 6:35 shining through the dimly lit room and blazing his eyesockets means he'll actually be late if he doesn't get his ass up right now and get ready on time.
"Shit, shit, shit," Wooyoung swears out loud, kicking off his thin blanket in an instant. He nearly falls over his tiny bed due to his clumsiness, but doesn't have time to think about it or berate himself for his lack of motor skills in the morning because he needs to get the fuck out of his apartment in less than thirty minutes, or the old hag known as his Media college professor will have his head. Most likely.
Jung Wooyoung isn't one to care much about school. Never had since his elementary school days where learning decided to become a hundred times more difficult and complicated for him, up to the point that nine times out of ten, he'd show up to his classes just because he didn't want to disappoint his parents (who he was already sure he'd disappointed countless times already).
But Mrs Nam has a penchant of being strict with attendance, which Wooyoung does not understand. He doesn't try to, either, because lately he hasn't been bothered to care about anyone. He doesn't even care about himself.
The bathroom's a dark, stingy space when Wooyoung enters it. He fumbles hastily for the switch, but this time the bulb doesn't turn on. Oh well, it'll probably work next time. Wooyoung's mind is too occupied to worry about it. It's not like the landlady would listen to his complaints either, not with him already struggling to pay rent on time.
Wooyoung tries not to stare at himself in the bathroom mirror; at this old, little thing that's lasted a remarkably long time despite the cracks he hasn't had the time, nor the cash, to replace, but like a magnet, the reflective surface draws him in even with the small timeframe he has to work with.
A burning impatience, and this faint, but lingering melancholy stares right at him through sea green and brown, and his brows furrow as he blinks, irritated with himself. What are you even doing?
Hatred's too strong of a word to describe what Wooyoung feels at the sight of his eyes, but he can't help the slight anger that boils inside him at his reflection. His left eye sparkles a vivid aquamarine, reminding him of a stormy sea at dusk, its colour so bright it disturbs him, just like it almost always does whenever he wakes up.
