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inyournightmares97 · 5 years

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My Youth (Chapter 6)

Broken and miserable, Park Jinyoung returns to his hometown to learn that no matter how hard he falls, there are still people who think he’s a hero.

Warnings: Mentions of suicide/depression, death, angst, slow build, maybe some language.(Please don’t ask when I’ll update. Wait until the series is finished to read if you’re impatient.)

Word Count: 5.7k+

(Can’t put links to the other parts here, please check my Masterlist/the reblog for the Prologue and Chapters 1, 2, 3, 4 and 5)

“-Mom, I’m busy,” Jinyoung muttered into the phone. He had been sitting in a crucial meeting with the Finance Director of GOT Tech and representatives of the Financial Regulatory Board. Receiving approval for his company to go public was one of the most critical and risky steps in Jinyoung’s career.

His mother, however, had been calling him constantly for the last twenty minutes.

Mrs. Park sounded upset. “I’m sorry, Jinyoung, dear. I just needed to reach you-”

“Mom, I’m in an extremely important meeting right now. Do you know how it looks when the Managing Director of GOT Group keeps getting calls from his mother during business meetings? What do you want from me?” Jinyoung demanded in a frustrated whisper, running his fingers through his hair. He tried not to let his agitation show on his face; the other high-profile attendees of the meeting could still see him through the glass wall of the conference room.

“Jinyoung, there’s been a terrible tragedy in town,” his mother began nervously. “I don’t… I don’t know how to tell you this, but i suppose there’s no easy way to talk about a death. Remember I told you that I’ve been going to the hospital every day to meet-”

Jinyoung felt a burst of irritation. The clock was ticking. The Board members were waiting for him impatiently and he could see the disapproval on their faces. “Mom, did you call me to tell me that someone died?”

“Well… yes, but-”

“Mom, I have been preparing for this presentation for months. The future of my company depends on this meeting. This is absolutely the worst time you could have chosen to tell me something like this,” Jinyoung muttered through gritted teeth. He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. “Please don’t mess up my focus right now. We can talk about this later. Do you need anything from me urgently?”

Mrs. Park hesitated. “You always seem to be busy these days. I just thought… if we could maybe help out with the funeral expenses or the hospital bills…”

Jinyoung closed his eyes. “Mom, you can just call my secretary for that. She’ll send you whatever amount you need. Send them flowers from me or something, okay? I have to go now.”

“Take care, Jinyoung, dear-”

“Bye, Mom.”

Jinyoung hung up and sighed, pressing his fingers to his temple. His personal secretary had followed him out of the room and was watching him nervously. He hadn’t even asked his mother who it was that had passed away. Was it somebody he knew? Maybe it was best that he didn’t think about it too much for now.

“Take my Mom’s call and ask her who died, send them money for the funeral and all those formalities,” Jinyoung told his secretary shortly. She nodded and made a note of it on her phone quickly while Jinyoung cleared his mind.

Focus. The presentation. The numbers.

Jinyoung took a deep, calming breath and plastered a rehearsed smile on his face before he turned to enter the conference room once more.

“I’m so sorry to keep you gentlemen waiting,” Jinyoung greeted all the well-dressed men with a bright smile. “I hope you can forgive me. Mothers seem to have a knack for calling at the most inconvenient times, don’t they?”

The men chuckled politely. “That’s perfectly fine, Mr. Park.”

“May I begin the presentation?”

“Please, do.”

--------

Jinyoung believed that to achieve something great, you needed to make certain sacrifices.

He had always known that the path he was embarking upon was not an easy one. Establishing your own business meant that you didn't get off work at 5 pm sharp, you couldn’t spend your weekends at a countryside cabin or getting drinks with your friends. You needed to keep working until things got done. You needed to compete in the market. You needed to be strong enough to pick up after your losses and clever enough to make friends in the right places. People were depending on you.

Jinyoung hadn’t merely chosen a career, he had chosen a life.

A very lonely life.

Whenever his mother would call him and try to have a casual chat, Jinyoung would find himself irritated. Who cared whether Mrs. Lee from the grocery store was giving a discount on strawberry bread? What did it matter if Mr. Cha had been trying to sell his little farmland? There was important work to be done. Jinyoung needed to talk to the advertising agents to make sure his products were being launched properly, he needed to negotiate discounts with suppliers to ensure he could meet the planned pricing goals. There were employees relying on him. There were investors who had trusted him with their money. There were quarterly goals that had to be met.

Every second of Jinyoung’s time was precious. Why couldn’t everyone understand that? Why couldn’t his mother stop thinking that her tiny little world in this tiny little town was everything, and understand the importance of what her son was doing?

There are a limited number of hours every man has at his disposal. We each make a conscious choice regarding how to spend each one.

It was only now, standing in front of your mother’s grave, that Jinyoung came a terrifying realization.

He had made the wrong choices.

------

“It was heart failure,” Mrs. Park whispered.

Jinyoung’s hands clutched the cup of tea firmly. It was hot and uncomfortable, but not more than the sick feeling in his stomach. Every word his mother spoke made him feel more pathetic.

What had he been doing all those months while your mother was in hospital and when she’d died? Preparing for his company to go public? Sitting in meetings and sucking up to corporate officials? Only to be fired and thrown out of the company. Only to have missed the death of somebody who had trusted him and cared for him.

“But she couldn’t have been that old…” Jinyoung muttered.

Mrs. Park shook her head softly. “She’d always had a weak heart, Jinyoung. Her health was fragile and after her husband passed away she had no choice but to work to support her daughter. All those long hours and late nights for years… they took their toll in the end. She had her first stroke three years ago. She was in hospital for a few weeks and then she had the second one; the one that took her life.”

Jinyoung closed his eyes, remembering your mother in his mind’s eye.

“She always looked tired. And worried.”

“She was.” Mrs. Park reached out and placed a hand over her son’s nervously. “I’m sorry, Jinyoung. I should have told you about it sooner. But you were always so busy in Seoul, always doing important things. It never seemed like the right time to tell you about something so devastating. It’s my fault.”

Jinyoung let out a small scoff. “Don’t take the blame on yourself. That doesn’t help me.”

Mrs. Park looked upset. “Jinyoung-”

She was interrupted by a loud knocking at the front door. Jinyoung closed his eyes and pressed his fingers to his temple while he listened to his father go to the door and yell at the person on the other side. The reporters had already found his home address. They had started arriving one-by-one since this morning. Each of them desperately wanted an interview with Park Jinyoung, the man who had lost his empire overnight. They wanted to know what he had to say about his dismissal from his own company.

Mr. Park re-entered the living room and sighed. “They’re getting more persistent. I think I should call the local police before they start trying to shove their way into our house.”

Jinyoung nodded and stood up. “I’ll go down to the police station myself and ask them to send someone to deal with this harrassment. Mom, you’ve told everyone we know to deny any reporters who request them for an interview, right?”

“Yes, but is it really a good idea for you to be going outside now-”

“I think I’ll lose my mind if I stay indoors,” Jinyoung muttered. He grabbed the black hoodie that was slung over the back of the sofa and glanced at his parents. They were both looking at him with wide, worried eyes.

Jinyoung felt a sudden wave of guilt wash over him; why should they have to deal with so much because of his mistakes? Why was he always the one taking and yet never giving?

“I’m sorry,” he apologized softly. “I’ll try and be back for dinner.”

------

Jinyoung’s legs carried him naturally towards the elementary school.

Perhaps it was a subconscious urge to see you, even though he had no idea what he would say if you really appeared before him. Anything Jinyoung could have said to help should have been said three years ago. Words like I’m sorry seemed like an insensitive joke at this point; too little and far too late.

Jinyoung sat silently on the bench by the schoolyard with his face covered by his dark hoodie, and wondered how his life had brought him to this point.

Left with nothing with shame.

“Ahjussi!”

By the time Jinyoung looked up, there was already a tiny figure running straight towards him at full speed. He flinched and braced himself for the impact; only to have the small boy stop centimetres away from him and throw his arms around him happily. Jinyoung stiffened.

“What-”

“Ahjussi, you are Park Jinyoung!” Ki-woo cried delightedly. The boy was beaming. Jinyoung noticed for the first time that one of his front teeth was missing, but it was still one of the brightest smiles he had ever seen. “Miss told me yesterday! Why did you lie and say you weren't? I can’t believe the King of the Playground walked me home after school and I didn’t even know!”

Jinyoung couldn’t resist a small smile. The sight of the little boy bouncing on his feet warmed him for a moment and he patted Ki-woo on the head. “If somebody asked Clark Kent if he was Superman, he wouldn’t say yes, now would he?”

Ki-woo’s eyes widened in understanding. “Wow. That’s so true! You’re so cool!”

“You’ll have to keep my secret.”

“Of course I will! Ahjussi, can you tell me how you did it? How did you manage to climb the oak tree?” Ki-woo demanded, grabbing Jinyoung’s arm and tugging on it eagerly. “You have to tell me, you just have to! Were you really tall?”

Jinyoung blinked. “Tall? Not particularly…”

“Then how? How did you do it?”

Jinyoung opened his mouth to respond but he was cut off by a loud yell. He had been so preoccupied with Ki-woo that he hadn’t noticed the much larger man that was making his way across the school yard. Jackson Wang had a huge smile on his face and without greeting, he threw his arms around Jinyoung in a fierce hug.

“Park Jinyoung! Look who finally decided to grace us with his presence!” Jackson cried happily. He pulled back and noticed the blank look on Jinyoung’s face. With a frown, he pointed to himself eagerly. “Remember me? Jackson! Jackson Wang! You used to pass me all the answers in History class!”

Jinyoung swallowed. “Uh…”

“Mr. Wang, you’re friends with Park Jinyoung?” Ki-woo asked, his mouth gaping open.

Jackson blinked and looked down at the boy sheepishly. “Ah, Ki-woo. I didn’t see you down there. Didn’t your teacher tell you to wait inside until someone came to pick you up? Go back indoors now.”

Ki-woo pouted. “But-”

“Nope. Back inside. Now.”

Jackson waited until Ki-woo began to slouch back towards the school building and then turned back to Jinyoung. “Man, you’re pretty much the celebrity around these parts now, eh? We had a couple of reporters come by the school this morning, asking for anyone who used to know you. You have nothing to worry about! I scared them off. These babies aren’t here for nothing,” Jackson beamed and flexed his bare bicep.

Jinyoung didn’t really know how to respond. “Nice.”

Jackson narrowed his eyes. “You do remember me, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course-”

“We should get drinks sometime and catch up now that you’re back in town! Man, I really owe you. You did me a solid one that Christmas before you left, remember? I’ll buy you a couple of beers at the pub. What’s your phone number?” Jackson demanded.

“I don’t really have a phone right now…”

“Don’t have a phone?” Jackson looked confused. “Weird but okay. I guess I can always ask Miss First Grade to get in touch with you. I can’t believe she didn’t tell me you were back in town!” he cried, slapping Jinyoung’s arm playfully. “Hold on… you’re here to see her, aren’t you?”

Jinyoung cleared his throat. “Not exactly…”

Jackson chuckled knowingly. “No worries, man. I’ve got your back. I need to go inside and take care of the kids now, so I’ll tell her to come out and meet you here, yeah? Let me know if any more of those reporters come around. I’ll take handle them for you!”

Jinyoung forced a smile. “Thanks-”

“No problem, man. It’s what friends are for. We’ll catch up soon!”

“Sure.”

Jinyoung watched Jackson half-run back to the school building, letting out a sigh of relief. Each person he came across in this town seemed to remember something about him and the one who possessed the most dangerous knowledge was Jackson Wang. In addition to having been the resident supplier of inappropriate magazines and the one who’d convinced Jinyoung to try his first cigarette behind the park back in high school, Jackson simply knew a little too much about everybody.

Jinyoung sat down on the bench and took a deep breath. He just realized that Jackson had said he would send you out to meet him. Why hadn’t he told him not to? He wasn’t prepared to face you. Idiot.

It was a few minutes before you emerged from the school building and walked towards Jinyoung. There was a pleasant smile on your face as you approached, and it made Jinyoung’s stomach turn. How could you smile at him like that? How could you be so calm about everything?

“Jinyoung,” you greeted him, confused. “Should you be roaming around out here? There are reporters buzzing all around town.”

Jinyoung cleared his throat. “Uh. Yeah, I know. Jackson said he drove them away...”

You rolled your eyes. “That idiot Jackson Wang? He was fully prepared to seize his five minutes of fame by telling them how you used to help him cheat in History class. I had to step in and force him to deny the request for an interview,” you muttered. Jinyoung’s eyes widened and you gave him a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. I sent a message to the principal of the middle school and the high school. Nobody’s going to give any interviews about you.”

Jinyoung felt small.

“Thanks,” he muttered.

“Did they find your house?”

“Yeah. They’ve been knocking the door all day. It’s really starting to bother Mom and Dad.”

Your expression was sympathetic. “Should I call the police?”

“Don’t worry. I was going to go down to the station myself and ask them to send someone to get rid of the reporters,” Jinyoung reassured you. He felt his heartbeat thump wildly as he looked at your gently smiling face. Should he say it? Should he talk about the elephant in the room? Even though he hadn’t prepared what to say?

“About… about last night…”

You blinked. “Yeah?”

He sighed. “About your mother. I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I know that’s no excuse, but I should have been there and-”

You cut him off with a forced smile. “Jinyoung. It’s okay. It’s not like you could have done anything for her even if you were here, you’re not a doctor. Everyone did the best they could.”

Jinyoung swallowed. “I might not have been able to help her. But… I should have been there for you.”

The smile dropped from your face. What could you say? Jinyoung’s eyes were filled with shame but it wasn’t the right time for him to be offering condolences. That time had long passed.

But you still remembered his words from last night as he’d hugged you. I don’t feel as alone when I’m here. Jinyoung had been through so much. How could you say anything to such a broken man except for it’s okay? How could you offer him anything but comfort when he had nobody but you?

How could you not be the bigger person when he was suffering?

“It’s fine, Jinyoung,” you promised him softly. “You don’t need to worry about it.”

“How can I not-”

“Seriously. Please. It’s in the past and nobody was to blame. It happened around the time your company was going public, so I can only imagine how chaotic your life and work must have been back then. I don’t resent you.”

Jinyoung looked up at you in disbelief. “How can you not?”

“I just… don’t. It’s fine.”

“Do you really mean that? Do you really mean that?” he demanded.

“I do,” you insisted firmly. You glanced at your watch and sighed. “Wow, it’s getting late. We have a PTA fundraiser at school tonight so I need to start setting up. Oh! Did you bring my bicycle by any chance?” you asked him hopefully.

Jinyoung shook his head. “Uh, no. The reporters were in front of my house so I slipped out through the back…”

“Can you drop it by the school later? I’m going to staying back pretty late because I have to wrap up after the event is over. It might even take till midnight and the buses stop running at 9 so I need a way to get home. It’s not too much trouble, is it?”

“No, that’s fine. I’ll drop it off here later.”

You gave him a small smile as you turned to go back indoors. “Bye, Jinyoung.”

“Bye.”

---------------------------

The PTA fundraiser left you drained of energy.

You would much rather have dealt with a hundred kids at once than with a handful of parents. At least kids could be made to see reason, they could be convinced with a little bit of logic (however flawed). Adults, on the other hand, believed that they knew best and that things had to be done exactly the way they wanted. Adults were unreasonable. Adults liked to throw around their authority.

You had never wanted to get into bed so badly.

You stayed back late to clean up after the fundraiser was over. It wasn’t required of you, but it was something that you somehow ended up volunteering to do. All the other teachers had families to go home to and kids to take care of. You only had an empty apartment.

Asking them to stay back instead of you felt selfish.

You slung your bag over your shoulder and trudged out into the parking lot to see that the bicycle racks were empty. Shit. Had Jinyoung forgotten to leave the bicycle behind for you? Where was he?

You pulled out your cell phone and then sighed. Damn Park Jinyoung. He didn’t even have a stupid phone. It was far past the time that Mr. and Mrs. Park would have gone to bed and you didn't want to wake them by calling them. But your apartment was too far to walk and you would have to pass by the pub; you had no interest in meeting the town’s drunkards alone in those narrow alleys at midnight.

You sighed and dialled another number.

“Jackson, hey. I’m so sorry, I know you just left a little while ago, but…”

-------------------

It was 1am when you heard a loud banging on your front door.

You had just finished taking a shower and were getting ready to slip into bed when the noise began. Your heartbeat racing, you grabbed hold of a kitchen knife quickly and then slowly approached your door.

“Who’s there?” you yelled out, voice shaking.

The voice that replied was muffled. “Jinyoung!”

Jinyoung? At this time of night?

You opened the door carefully. The first thing that hit you was the awful smell; Jinyoung stank of sweat and cheap beer. His eyes were red and his face flushed as he looked at you almost wildly.

“Are you okay?” he demanded, grabbing your shoulders to look at you properly. His hands were trembling and he seemed unaware of how loud his voice was. “Are you all right? I was looking for you everywhere!”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Wow, you’re drunk.”

Jinyoung’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry- I’m so, so, sorry-”

“How about you come inside before you bring my neighbours running over with all of your noise?” you snapped. You had little patience for drunks, and knowing that Jinyoung had been out getting drunk instead of returning your bicycle did not please you. “Where have you been?”

Jinyoung stared at you helplessly, his arms waving around as he spoke. “I-I was just going to get one drink, I swear. But it led to another and I totally forgot about your bike and I was so scared that you might have walked home because I know that path passes by the pub and it’s not safe-”

“Relax,” you told Jinyoung as you guided him gently towards your couch. “I didn't walk. I called Jackson, he drove me home.”

“Jackson? Wang? Why? Are you guys close?” he asked, plopping down heavily on the couch.

You shrugged. “He’s a good friend.”

Jinyoung paused for a moment and then hung his head quietly.

“We used to be good friends.”

You looked down at Jinyoung properly. He was a wreck. His dark hair was a tangled mess and the light blue dress shirt he was wearing was wrinkled with a beer stain on it. There were even large sweat stains under his arms; he’d probably cycled all the way here in a panic.

And he’s one of the Most Eligible Bachelors under 40. If only the magazine had seen him like this.

“We’re still friends,” you told him lightly. “Although it wouldn’t do any harm to return my bicycle when I ask for it. Do you want a glass of water?”

Jinyoung blinked at you dazedly. “Do you have beer?”

“Absolutely not. Haven’t you had enough?”

His lower lip pouted slightly as he stared down at the floor. “I’ve been drinking all evening but I haven’t reached the point where I feel good or forget about my problems yet. In fact, I keep thinking about them even more. How about a cigarette?”

“You will not smoke in my house,” you told him with a firm glare.

To your surprise, Jinyoung suddenly smiled. It was only a gentle curve of his lips but you spotted it and frowned at him with your arms folded across your chest. “Are you feeling proud of yourself right now? Do you think your behaviour is something to laugh about?” you demanded.

Jinyoung looked up at you softly. “No.”

“Then why are you-”

“Because this is the first time you’ve given me that look since I came back,” Jinyoung admitted quietly. His voice trembled. “This is the first time you got angry at me. You don’t seem to get angry at me anymore.”

You didn’t understand. “Why would you want me to be angry at you-”

“Because you have to be angry with someone before you can forgive them. You have to first admit that they hurt you or that they did something wrong, and only then can you begin to repair your relationship,” Jinyoung whispered. He looked up at you and you could see the tears brimming in his eyes. “So tell me honestly. Have you forgiven me already?”

You swallowed. “I was never mad at you to begin with-”

“You’re lying.”

You clenched your fists as your heartbeat thudded. “I’m not lying. You’re drunk. You should drink some water and you can sleep on the couch-”

Jinyoung looked up at you, his eyes bloodshot yet surprisingly clear. “You are lying. Either you’re lying or you’re not the same girl I remember.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because the girl I knew wouldn’t have pretended to forgive a friend to spare his feelings. She would have grabbed me by the shirt, looked me in the eye, and said Park Jinyoung, you’re an absolute bastard for leaving me here when I was having a hard time. She wouldn’t have spared my feelings. She would have expected me to be there for her because that’s what friends do. They count on each other.”

You closed your eyes. How had Jinyoung seen right through you? Even after 10 years, how could he see through you like you were made of glass?

“I’m not angry,” you tried to tell him slowly, even though you weren’t sure who you were convincing anymore. “Because I never expected you to be there. You were busy and I had no expectations-”

Jinyoung scoffed. “You’re lying again.”

“I’m not-”

“You are. Friendship is when you help someone, because you trust that they would do the same for you. What you’re doing for me isn’t friendship. You don’t trust me anymore. If you have no expectations from me, then that’s charity!” Jinyoung spat out. Tears were brimming in his eyes and his voice was choked. “Is that what I am to you? Charity?”

You clenched your fists and let out a small, humourless laugh. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this.”

“What?”

“Where the fuck do you get off accusing me of treating you like charity? After what you did?” you snapped.

Jinyoung stared at you blankly. “Tell me.”

Your throat closed up. You didn’t want to talk about it. You didn’t want to drag yourself back to what had been the lowest point of your life, especially not in front of Jinyoung. You didn’t know who he was to you anymore. How could you open up to him?

“I can’t,” you muttered. “I don’t want to talk about it, Jinyoung.”

“Please,” Jinyoung whispered. “Please. At least tell me I was a terrible friend for not being there. Tell me I was a terrible friend for not even knowing about your mother.”

You took a deep breath and sat down, your knees feeling weak. You had never imagined that you would have to sit next to Jinyoung and say these words to him while he was drunk. Yet, as his dark eyes pierced into yours, he looked more sober than ever.

“It was my fault she died,” you whispered, shakily. “I know how hard my Mom worked to raise me. I know how much she struggled after my Dad passed away. The doctor told me her heart attack was probably caused by stress- years of it. She was growing old but she’d never even gone for a health check-up because we couldn’t afford it.”

Jinyoung stared at you silently.

“I needed someone to say this to back then,” you admitted quietly. “I needed someone who would listen to me and who wouldn’t try to convince me that it wasn’t my fault or that I didn't do anything wrong. That’s what everyone kept doing. They kept trying to comfort me but I just wanted someone who would listen. I wanted you,” you mumbled.

Jinyoung only nodded. His hands reached out to take both of yours. He grasped them tightly.

“I knew you were busy, but I always had this hope that maybe you would come to the funeral,” you whispered. “I thought… surely, whatever I did to make you cut me off, it wasn’t so bad that you wouldn't even turn up to my mother’s funeral. But the truth was that I couldn’t grieve properly because the hospital was hounding me about the bills, I…”

You took a deep breath. You hated thinking about those moments. You had felt so helpless and alone, backed into a corner. “I don’t think it even sank in that my mother was dead until a few days later,” you mumbled. “ I spent the first day wondering how the hell I was going to pay the hospital bills instead of thinking about her. Your mother tried comforting me, she told me it would all be fine and that she would call you for help.”

Jinyoung closed his eyes; tears were clinging to his eyelashes.

“She did,” he mumbled.

You felt the walls around you come crashing down as you looked at the broken man in front of you. You remembered how badly you’d wanted to see him then, how much you’d craved his comfort. You remembered how furious you had been when you realized that Jinyoung had abandoned you.

“I thought you would call,” you mumbled. “I didn’t want to disturb you but at the same time I trusted that you wouldn’t leave me alone at a time like that.”

Jinyoung’s voice was soft. “I’m sorry.”

“It would have been better if you hadn't done anything at all,” you mumbled. “Maybe then I could have forgotten about it in the mess that I was going through. But you didn’t. I got a call from your secretary the night before the funeral.”

Jinyoung lowered his head. His hands were trembling even as they held yours and you could hear his soft sniffle. “Shit,” he muttered, his voice thick with tears. “Shit, I can’t believe-”

“I thought you’d finally called. But it wasn’t you. I had to hear some strange woman tell me over the phone that Park Jinyoung is sorry he can’t make it to the funeral but he sends his condolences,” you choked out. You smiled humorlessly. “As if I was some distance acquaintance you barely knew. You sent me your condolences through your secretary.”

“I didn’t- I didn’t know it was you…”

“And then she told me that if I would just email her a copy of the hospital and funeral bills then all the expenses would be taken care of,” you mumbled. “She said that she could send me as much as I needed, no limit. I was so embarrassed. I wanted-I wanted to tell her that you could go fuck yourself and that I didn’t want your condolences and your money. I wanted to refuse so badly, but…”

You hung your head in shame. “But I couldn’t,” you whispered. “I couldn’t say that to her because it was true. I had no other way of paying those bills. So I sent her the details and I let you pay for them. Whether you know it or not, you paid for all my mother’s hospital bills and funeral while I sat here and wondered how I had become such a worthless daughter.”

Jinyoung’s hands clasped yours so tightly that it hurt. His shoulders were shaking and you could see the sobs racking his chest. “I didn’t mean to-” he sobbed. Jinyoung’s tears landed on your clasped hands. “I didn’t mean to, I swear…”

You slowly removed your hands from his. “I have the accounts,” you muttered. “I’ve been saving up to pay you back. It might take me a few more years but-”

Jinyoung flinched. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s not open to discussion, Jinyoung.”

“Don’t say you’ll pay me back, please-”

“I will pay you back,” you said firmly. You took a deep breath. “You know why? Because I might be able to forgive you for not being there when I needed you. But I will never, never forget how cheap I felt the moment I ended that phone call. So don’t talk to me about charity; I know how it feels to be on the other end of it.”

Jinyoung closed his eyes. He felt light-headed and blank as he thought about everything you’d said. No wonder you didn’t consider him a friend. No wonder you couldn't bring yourself to be honest with him. No wonder there was something fake and forced about your every smile.

Jinyoung hadn’t just messed up.

He had destroyed something precious to him without even realizing it.

“It’s late,” you mumbled after a brief silence. “You should go to sleep. Here, just; make yourself comfortable on the couch and I’ll get you a blanket and some pillows.”

Jinyoung swallowed. “I-I can’t…”

“You’re not going anywhere at this time of night while you’re drunk,” you told him. You pushed him lightly so that he leaned back against the sofa. “Stay put. I’ll be back. I think we’ve talked enough for tonight.”

“Can you just promise me one thing?” Jinyoung asked quietly.

“What’s that?”

“Even if you don’t consider me your friend anymore, even if you’re just being nice to me because you’re that kind of a caring person… don’t give up on me completely.” Jinyoung looked up at you desperately. “Please. Tell me that I can fix things. Tell me I haven’t broken our friendship and my life beyond repair.”

You looked down at him. Lying on your couch in his crumpled dress shirt and the beer stains, Jinyoung looked pathetic. Perhaps it was because you’d finally let out all the resentment you’d been bottling up for so long. Perhaps it was because, looking into Jinyoung’s eyes now, you could see that he did care. But you suddenly didn’t feel so hollow anymore.

You didn’t feel so lonely in your pain.

“Everything can be fixed, Jinyoung,” you told him softly.

“Even us?” he mumbled.

You nodded. “Even us.”

“Even me?”

“Especially you.”

Jinyoung slowly closed his eyes and you went into the other room to get him a spare pillow and a blanket. He let you place the pillow under his head and snuggled into the soft blanket. You turned to switch off the light when you heard him mumble.

“You know something?”

“What, Jinyoung?”

“I thought that the most unbearable thing about being fired from the company was all the effort I’d put into it. I thought I couldn’t bear it because I’d done so much for it for the years,” he said slowly.

You blinked at his curled up figure under the blanket.

“But it’s not?” you asked.

Jinyoung shook his head. “It’s not how much I’ve done for the company that I can’t bear. It’s how much I sacrificed for it.”

-------------------

#got7 #got7 scenarios #got7 scenario #got7 angst #park jinyoung #got7 jinyoung #jinyoung angst #jinyoung scenario #got7 imagines #got7 drabbles #got7 series #got7 fanfiction #jinyoung fanfic #jinyoung my youth

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yeppeojiwrites · 5 years

Text

making the right decision//song mingi

uhh i don’t really know how to write titles but this is gonna be it for now until i figure out a better one

this is a college!mingi au requested by one of my mutuals on instagram (folow me at ericsblackgf)

word count: 1628

warnings: angst and eventual soft sweet stuff (surprise ending!!)

members: mingi x reader, wooyoung x reader, ??? x reader (oh worm???)

You shouldn’t have let him go on that date.

Sure you waved him off and told him to go have fun, but you didn’t mean it. If you did, you wouldn’t be crying in Wooyoung’s arms.

“I don’t know why I did it,” you sobbed. “I just wanted to make him happy.”

Wooyoung sighed as he rubbed your back. “Think about yourself, (Y/N). Be selfish for once. This is the tenth date Mingi has been out on since the start of the school year.”

“I know,” you said. “And it hurts every time I send him off.”

You’ve liked Mingi since he sat down next to you in your European Literature class the second week of school freshman year. He noticed the stickers on your laptop and asked you about them, leading to you talking about yourselves over ice cream. You thought it was a date, but Mingi thought it was just a hangout between new friends. He was oblivious.

As always.

He never noticed the way your eyes lit up whenever you noticed him looking at you, the way you inhale sharply when his skin touches yours, the way your smile falls when he says he’s going on another date with another girl.

Maybe you should start looking for a romantic partner another person because clearly you weren’t getting anywhere with Mingi.

As Wooyoung tucked you into his bed, proclaimed, “Starting today, I’m no longer thinking about Mingi. I’m putting myself first and keeping only those who I like around me. Consider yourself included, Wooyoung.”

He laughed and patted your cheek. “We’ll see about that,” he said as he turned off the light.

Ignoring Mingi was easier than you thought. Sure it hurt to decline his calls and sure it hurt to watch his dejected face whenever you walked past him and ignored his greetings, but at least you didn’t have to hear about how his dates went or how far he went with them.

Things actually became easier. You no longer had to pack and buy meals for two. You no longer had to wait in the courtyard long after your classes ended to see Mingi, you could just go home. You no longer had to walk across campus to Mingi’s dorm for movie night, you could just call Wooyoung over and watch a movie with him.

Your bond with Wooyoung grew stronger. You texted each other more, hung out with each other more often. Wooyoung was your new best friend.

As you walked out of class one afternoon, your wrist was grabbed and you were dragged into an empty classroom.

“Why are you avoiding me? You aren’t answering my calls, you don’t meet me after class anymore, we don’t meet for lunch, we don’t talk anymore. (Y/N), what did I do?” Mingi said, his face scrunched in anguish.

“Why don’t you ask your girl of the week to keep you company?” you said, pulling your wrist out of his grasp and attempting to walk away. Mingi stepped in front of your path.

“My girl of the week? Is this what this is about? You’re jealous?” he said, grabbing your shoulders from moving further.

“Let me go,” you said, shaking his hands off of your shoulders.

“Can we at least talk about this?” he pleaded.

“No.” you said sternly. His face fell.

“Please, (Y/N)? I miss you a lot,” he said, reaching out to touch your face. You dodged his hand.

“If this is all you wanted, I’ll be going now,” you said in a monotone voice.

“Fine. But when you’re ready to talk, you know where to find me. I’ll wait for you until then.” he said.

Your interaction with Mingi that one afternoon made your resolve weaker. You started seeing him sitting on the benches near your classes, even when his class was all the way across the campus. He left letters taped to your door, addressed to “his best friend”. They accumulated in a pile on your desk, all of them staying unopened.

You could only guess what they were about. Maybe they’re about his day. Maybe they’re about his dates or his two week girlfriends. Maybe they were a collection of confession letters.

The last option seemed highly unlikely.

All you knew was that if you opened them, you were subject to another blow at your resolve of avoiding Mingi.

You confided in Wooyoung, who seemed to only become closer to you, like a brother.

“It’s getting hard to ignore him,” you said, “it seems like wherever I am he is too. I forgot he knows my schedule.” you sighed.

“You can always call campus police and have a restraining order made.” Wooyoung suggested. You hit his shoulder.

“He doesn’t mean to be stalkerish, he’s just waiting for me to talk to him,” you said.

“I guess,” he said. “Do you want to choose the movie?” he asked.

“Yeah, sure,” you said before taking the remote.

It was two weeks after your interaction with Mingi that Mingi wrote Wooyoung a letter. When Wooyoung woke up one morning, he saw a letter in plain envelope with his name written on it a few inches away from his door, it was probably slid under the door overnight. When Wooyoung opened the letter he immediately saw Mingi’s name printed at the bottom of the paper. He started reading from the top of the paper.

Jung Wooyoung,

I don’t really know your relationship with (Y/N) but it seems close. You and I haven’t really talked that often, usually only when we both meet at (Y/N)’s dorm for the movie nights you, (Y/N), and I have once a month.

I’ll tell you this simply.

I really like (Y/N). I know she doesn’t really want anything to do with me or at least it seems that way but I just want her to know that I like her. I recently discovered it when we first stopped talking, when she left it was like a part of me left with them. I realized that all of the girls that I went out on dates with were used as a way to feel like I was able to be loved or liked since I felt like (Y/N) didn’t like me the same way I liked them.

I miss them a lot.

I write them letters every day hoping that they’ll read them but I don’t think they have, or if they have, they don’t care.

Wooyoung, please tell (Y/N) that I’ll stop pursuing them if they want me to. All they have to do is tell me face to face.

If it comes back that (Y/N) doesn’t want anything to do with me, please take care of them. Like I said earlier, I don’t really know your relationship with (Y/N) but it seems close. Maybe you like them as much as I do or maybe you only see them as a sibling.

I hope you make the right decision for (Y/N).

Thank you,

Song Mingi

Wooyoung put the letter back in envelope. He knew what he had to do.

[A Few Years Later]

“Sweetheart, are you ready?” your mom said, peeking into the room where you were seated. You nodded, sighing and rubbing your clammy hands together.

“As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess,” you said. Your mom smiled at you and took your hand.

“He loves you a lot, and you look wonderful today, sweetheart. You’re making the right decision, (Y/N). I supported your relationship from the time that you introduced him to me and your dad, your does too.” your mom said.

“Are you ready to walk down the aisle?” she said, her eyes expectant. You nodded.

“Let’s do it.”

As you reached the doorway of the hall linked arm in arm with your mom, everyone in the room stood to their feet. You walked in and smiled at everyone in the room. You saw the flashes of cameras and heard the artificial shutter sounds of cell phone cameras. Only a few meters away from the altar, you made eye contact with your groom, his eyes filled with tears. You smiled at him and reached up to wipe the tears away with your thumb.

You leaned forward a little bit, “I thought you said you weren’t going to cry,” you smiled, placing both of your hands on his shoulders.

“I didn’t plan to but I can’t help it. I never thought I would see you like this, in front of me, about to be married to me,” he grabbed your hands from his shoulders, “If you were me and you saw yourself right now, all googly-eyed and sweet looking, you’d cry too.”

You smiled and squeezed his hands, “I love you.” you said.

He smiled back. “I love you too.” he responded.

The wedding officiant began, “We are all joined here today to watch a union between two souls, two spirits made for each other. We will begin with hearing their vows.” She nodded at the two of you.

After your vows were stated and tears were shed, you exchanged rings. The ring bearer was your youngest cousin, all dressed up in a little tux, complete with a bow tie that matched one of the colors of the wedding.

“I now pronounce you husband and (your gender’s word for spouse). Please kiss to seal your union.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer to you and pressed your lips against his, a familiar action that makes you feel a little bit warmer now. You leaned your forehead against his, your noses touching.

“I love you, (Y/N).” he said with a smile.

“I love you too, Yunho.” you replied.

were you expecting that ending??idk it was kinda a shock to me,,,i did it so that the ending wouldn’t be as predictable,,unless you’re some kind of psychic,,if you are,,idk man thats pretty cool

as you can probably tell, i’m not very good at author’s notes but uhh please request something!! this was really fun to write!!

#ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez smut #mingi #song mingi #mingi scenarios #wooyoung #jung wooyoung #wooyoung scenarios #feat another ateez member #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop smut #ateez imagines #yeppeojiwrites

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bubblegumwitchswriting · 6 years

Text

Roses Pt 2 - House of M Au

. Falling . Roses Pt 1 . Pt 2 . Pairing: Billy/Teddy Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15190091/chapters/35229251

People want Billy dead but he’s busy being preoccupied with Teddy, a palace gardener who ended up saving his life. Meanwhile Teddy isn’t quite done saving lives (particularly Billy’s), when he realises all is not quite right within the palace.

Teddy had been put on the rose gardens. It wasn't because he was good with the roses: he wasn't especially. In fact he didn't have a green thumb at all (metaphorically anyway), but a job had been going in the palace gardens and it was that or he and his mom would lose the house. So Teddy bluffed his way through a vague interview and ended up under the gruff but patient tutelage of the head gardener who saw right through Teddy in half a second.

He was getting better. He even had a plant or two at home now, and he hadn't killed them yet.

Teddy suspected the main reason he'd been moved to the rose garden was to keep him firmly out of the way. Ever since he'd had an unconscious Prince on his couch, he'd been distracted, sneaking glances up at the castle, lopping bits of plant off that definitely weren't supposed to be off because his head was someplace else. The rose gardens were out of the way and while they were kept meticulously tended, they seldom had visitors.

Except Prince W- except Billy.

Teddy had caught sight of him in the rose gardens plenty of times while he had been working elsewhere. He'd sit on a bench right in the middle, staring at the fountain. He'd always looked so far away, both figuratively and metaphorically. Previously Teddy had done nothing more than wonder what was on the Prince's mind. (Okay and maybe also acknowledge that the Prince was kind of beautiful, because the Prince was kind of beautiful, but that was a harmless enough acknowledgement - it wasn't like he was ever going to meet him, get anywhere near him.)

Billy hadn't been back to the rose garden while Teddy had been working. He didn't want to admit he was waiting for a glimpse of the prince. He wasn't. (Except there was only so much lying to himself he could do and really he was just checking that Billy was safe. It was only natural to be worried. Right?)

He ran it past Kate, who had a rich father and got invitations to all the society balls but hung out in tiny coffee shops filled with broke teenagers anyway. She'd just burst out laughing.

"He is cute," she said.

She saw the expression on his face, and her laughter died away.

"Half the people in here probably have a crush on him," she said. "It's not really a big deal."

"Does that include you?" Teddy asked, deflecting.

"I prefer blondes," Kate said with a shrug and a mischievous smile. "Seriously though, stare dreamily at Prince Charming all you want but do it from a distance. If there is something going on in the castle it's not something you want to be involved in."

It was good advice. Teddy tried to follow it, but he couldn't stop wondering, especially when a week passed and Billy still hadn't visited the rose gardens. And maybe Billy was just busy. Maybe he had things to do. Maybe he was avoiding Teddy (stop being so high school Altman). The point was there was a thousand reasons why he might be absent from the rose garden and they didn't have to all involve Billy getting hurt by the doctor or whatever conspiracy he'd become entangled in.

On a particularly hot summers day, Teddy was moved from the rose gardens and put onto the formal gardens, since there was some fancy party coming up and the landscaping had to be perfect down to the tiniest twig. Kate was going and had teasingly informed him she would assessing the state of the gardens. Teddy had laughed perfunctorily and repressed an urge to ask her to keep an eye on Billy.

Working the formal gardens was exhausting: his mistakes were more obvious and his inexperience was more hampering, but it did take him closer the castle. He stole as many glances up at the imposing structure as he dared but though he saw Princess Lorna, a blur that might have been Thomas or Pietro, and the infamous Scarlet Witch, he didn't see Billy. The back of his neck burnt, his fingers were so stiff he could barely move them, he was probably severely dehydrated, and he was only half done. He turned to see if the others had stopped for lunch and saw the one person he'd been trying to catch all week.

Billy was walking down the steps, one side of a man Teddy didn't recognise. His twin walked the other side, kicking out irritably as they descended and clearly only half listening to the man's lecture. Billy wasn't listening either, but his posture was more demure, his expression was neutral, unchanging. Teddy's heart skipped a beat. If his fingers weren't wrought into shape, he might have dropped his trowel.

Billy passed right by him. He glanced down but he didn't make any sign he recognised Teddy. Teddy's initial disappointment turned into something sharper when Billy walked on, so blank and so distant. Was Billy just pretending not to know him, either to protect Teddy or because Teddy was no longer any use to him? Or was there something more sinister going on? Did Billy truly not know who he was?

The man settled his two pupils under a tree on a nearby patio. Thomas was complaining it was hot. Billy didn't say a word, just sat when he was asked. Teddy tried to focus solely on the flowers in front of him, but it was hard not to look up, harder not to listen. The man was quizzing the twins on various aspects of court manners all of which were lost on Teddy. Thomas answered sporadically and with little interest. Billy didn't speak at all unless directly prompted and his voice was so low Teddy couldn't make out the exact words.

A shiver ran down Teddy's spine, and he suddenly felt cold, like the sun had gone in though it still blazed above. He turned and saw a guard at the top of the steps, glaring down at him. The guard's gaze felt chilly and heavy and Teddy guiltily turned his attention firmly back to the flowers. The guard stayed at his post at the door, and Teddy could feel his eyes on him, the whole time he worked. His heart beat was loud in his ears as he stood to leave he half expected the guard to follow him, to escort him away to the palace dungeons or maybe just to a dark alley where he'd disappear never to be heard from again.

He made his escape however, and was allowed to hurry back to the sheds where the garden staff kept their tools. He persuaded someone to swap patches with him, but it hardly mattered: by the time he finished his lunch and returned the Princes, their tutor and the guard were all gone.

The next day Teddy was back to the rose gardens.

He had stopped pruning about five minutes before, sheers hanging loosely, but when someone came up behind him and tapped him on a shoulder he jumped and nearly took off his hand.

"Sorry," a familiar but unfamiliar voice said, the word spat out quick as a bullet. Teddy turned to find Prince Thomas staring at him. Teddy couldn't quite work out if the Prince's expression was accusatory or interested but he hedged his bets and pulled off the best bow he could while already kneeling and holding a pair or garden sheers.

"You kept staring at my brother," Thomas commented, flinging himself back on a bench and throwing his legs out in front of him. He had his arms tightly folded, and Teddy felt his heart in his throat. It made it hard to speak, and words failed him anyway.

"Are you one of them?" Thomas demanded.

"One of who?" Teddy asked, a little bemused. "Uh your highness," he added belatedly but Thomas just waved the address away.

Thomas glanced around the rose garden faintly dismissively and then flicked his eyes back to Teddy again, looking him up and down.

"I can see why Billy likes the roses so much," Thomas commented with a sly smirk that flicked out and then was gone again as quickly as a snake's tongue. Teddy wasn't sure what Thomas was implying. He was hot and dirty, his hair damp and sticking to his forehead, a complete contrast to Prince Thomas who was dressed casually but immaculately. (Actually, he was sure, but he didn't want to read into that because it would send his hopes sky high and gardeners didn't have any chance with Princes, not really).

"I don't think you're one of them," Thomas continued, not seeming to care that Teddy's input to the conversation was approaching zero, "because Billy is wary of them and even now -"

His voice trailed off and a new train of thought seemed to hit him.

"Who are you?"

The question hit Teddy like a freighter as Thomas suddenly turned his full attention on him. He was as forceful as his twin, though green eyes didn't have as much sway on Teddy as brown. It was enough, however, to have him blurting out his full name.

"Don't know you," Thomas said thoughtfully. He stretched, gave Teddy another up and down examination.

"My brother mentioned passing out on a couch somewhere."

The unsaid question hovered. Teddy wondered if there was a remonstrance coming somewhere. Thomas was hard to read: not only were the expressions he allowed too quick, most of the time his face was schooled anyway. He blew from one thing to another in hurricane mode, it was hard to keep up.

"That was me," he admitted. "I found him barely conscious and I took him back to mine to recover."

Thomas stared at him.

"Why?"

Teddy blinked.

"Sorry?"

"Why rescue him? It might have gotten you into trouble."

Teddy couldn't quite work out how to answer that.

"He was hurt?" he said and it sounded like a question.

Thomas nodded thoughtfully.

"He doesn't remember you. He doesn't remember any of it. They watch him all the time and they’ve done something I know they have but I don’t know what and I don't know iftheyaregoingtotryagainorwhenorhowtoprotecthimor-"

Thomas's rapid fire speech which became more rapid fire as he grew more distressed to the point of illegibility, cut off when a voice called for him. Teddy stilled and Thomas's smirk was suddenly back.

"I can see why you like the rose gardens," he commented in a low voice, flicking his gaze over to Teddy like a whip. Teddy's cheeks coloured.

"It's my job," he protested too quickly but quietly and luckily Thomas didn't seem to hear him. He'd moved away from Teddy in the blink of an eye and was sitting on the bench Billy usually occupied. Teddy belated followed his cue and picked up the shears again, pretending to work.

Billy came into view, not really looking at anything. His gaze passed over Teddy and, though he gave a small, perfunctory smile, again there was no recognition at all in his eyes. Teddy shivered.

"Mom wants us," Billy told his brother. "Guests are arriving."

"Already?" Thomas complained. "The party is not for hours."

Billy shrugged, disinterested.

"Fine," Thomas said, standing. "Race you?"

Billy didn't respond. Thomas turned back to Teddy and mouthed see with an accompanied exaggerated frown. Then he was gone.

Teddy watched as Billy walked away, his back perfectly straight as Kate's advice rang clear in his head, mingling with the less than illuminating conversation with Thomas. He had a bad feeling about the party and he wondered how amenable Kate would be to befriending and watching over two princes.

Part Three

#House of M AU #Billy/Teddy #billy kaplan #Teddy altman #tommy shepherd #young avengers #kate bishop

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spookypastatoo · 7 years

Text

Hanging Man Hill

Gaston, South Carolina is a lonely little place. Sitting just south of Columbia along 321, it’s just a small crumb off of the misshapen piece of pie on the United States plate that we call South Carolina. Its population has almost never gone over two thousand, and it is only 3.4 square miles across in all directions. It feels even lonelier when you come in from a place like Roanoke, Virginia.

After Mom lost her job, we moved to the only place where the rest of our family resided – good ol’ South Cackalacky. I had been moping on the trip the whole time on the way down here. The way I saw it, the only friends I was going to be making here were fire ants and that inferno of a sun. Once we got settled in at 304 Dixiana Drive (I always remembered the address because the number in it was carved into the driveway, and it spelled “hoe” if you looked at it upside down), I immediately set out into the neighborhood in search of friends. I didn’t know how to ride a bike at the time and I barely knew how to ride a skateboard, so I petered down a long stretch of road directly across from the front of the house on my cheap little Wal-Mart board until I came to a small cul-de-sac that seemed to go uphill. Sitting outside on his front porch was a chubby kid with glasses that looked about ten or eleven, about my age at the time. I really had no one else to talk to, so I asked what his name was and he told me that it was Terry. He liked being outside a lot and I didn’t, but we both seemed to like video games. With that, we would get along just fine. There was one thing that he hadn’t told me over the next few weeks that we spent riding around the neighborhood: he was into scary movies.

I was a massive chicken when it came to anything that seemed intent on forcing you to change your underwear every five minutes, so I didn’t really like this aspect of him. Even worse, he had tons of horror movie action figures and loads of VHS tapes of all the creepy movies you could think of stacked in his room. Every time I came to visit, he was almost certain to scare the living bejeezus out of me with one of those creepy Freddy Kreuger dolls or force me to watch The Texas Chainsaw Massacre with him in the dark. His room wasn’t really that nice-looking to begin with. He had a bunk bed (he was an only child, and only his grandmother lived with him) in which he slept on the bottom and all his slasher flicks and action figures slept on top. There were loads of holes in the walls and everything had a generally grimy feel to it. It made those horrifying moments of watching pure terror in the dark all the more… icky. One day, when he realized that I pretty much hated any kind of horror movies he threw at me, he began telling me urban legends. Some of them were about the town as a whole, but more often than not, they were about our particular neighborhood. I didn’t really believe any of them. That is, until he told me about Hanging Man Hill.

It was about a year after we had met each other and we were riding around the neighborhood (by this time, Terry had told me to “man up” and he had eventually taught me how to ride a bike). He stopped when we were riding in front of a house we had simply entitled “The Crack Shack” due to its residents being stoned out of their minds on a regular basis. He seemed to be peering out at a small pathway behind the place that went up the farther you went back. He was usually the leader when it came to showing me new places in the neighborhood, so I didn’t question a thing when he beckoned for me to follow him up the trail. It was a pretty steep climb up the side of the hill, with plenty of sand and rocks to send anyone not being careful straight back down. It felt as though the trees were closing tighter and tighter on us until we reached a large opening at the top. Besides the empty soda bottles and used condoms, the only manmade thing in the area that I could see were long stretches of telephone poles going across a series of sandy, dry hills. If not for the two strips of heavy forest on either side of these hills, it might have gone on forever.

The area didn’t seem to have any particular importance. I had expected him to bring me to some awful cemetery, but in the dying light of the late afternoon sky, those rolling hills looked beautiful. I thought that me might try some desperate last attempt to scare me, but instead, he just turned to me with the most serious and grim face I’d ever seen on him. “Here we are. Hanging Man Hill,” he whispered. “Hanging Man Hill? Is this another one of your stories?” “Sort of. Except, this one’s true.” I rolled my eyes at the thought. How did he possibly expect me to believe any of his stories? He just kept staring at me with that face, waiting for me to respond. “How could this even be a ‘Hanging Man Hill’? There’s no hanging man, and there’s at least five dozen hills here!” “Right down there. Look.” He pointed his finger toward the nearest telephone pole, sitting between the two closest hills to us. A small creek, no more than five feet across, ran between the two hills and went onward into that never-ending forest. There was no hanging man, but the pole itself seemed more ominous than the rest. “Roy Terrance,” he whispered. “Who?” “It wouldn’t be Hanging Man Hill without a hanging man, would it?”

He bolted down the first hill on that blazing orange bike of his. I tried to keep up, but Wal-Mart and sporting goods don’t seem to mix. There was a faulty chain on my cheap dull red bike. The sticks from the surrounding trees had rooted themselves to the ground and were now snagging on the dangling chain. With one mighty tug of a huge root on the bike, I was head over handlebars all the way to the bottom. I landed on my knees with a small sploosh sound as my legs hit the water. It couldn’t have been more than a few inches deep. I almost called for help from Terry when I realized that he had stopped at the bottom just before I had tumbled to the creek alongside him. His head was peering upwards, looking straight at the top of that dark and shadowy-looking telephone pole. “Little help?” I squeaked. Terry broke his gaze with the pole just long enough to wrench me from the creek and get me to my feet. After that, his stare continued to be fixed on seemingly nothing at the top of the pole for the longest time. “What is it – or who – that you’re looking for again?” I grumbled in frustration. I was going to be pretty pissed if he had taken me down here and all I had gotten out of the trip was a banged-up knee. I hadn’t noticed the pain before because the water in the stream was cool, but now it stung like the dickens.

“Roy Terrance. Owner of that small shed just beyond the trees over there.” I hadn’t noticed the shed before. It sat just behind a large oak. It couldn’t have been bigger than five outhouses put together. “After his wife and kid left him, he hung himself on the wires just above us. Cops didn’t find much, just a charred husk of what used to be a man. Legend says that whoever is out here at his exact time of death gets strung up on the wires with him.” “Oh, and do tell, when would that be?” For once, he broke his serious tone to give me a goofy “I dunno!” shrug, and then he was back to that grim attitude. “And you’re suggesting that we stay here and wait for him? Despite the many excuses I have to dispute this, I think I’m going to go with ‘It’s late and mom is making dinner, so I have to go home.’” “Fine. Tell your mom that you’re sleeping over at my house tomorrow night, and I’ll do vice versa with my gramma. Meet me here at seven.”

Against my better judgement, I decided that I might as well come. What harm could it do? Obviously, he was lying and if nothing else, it would set my mind at ease to see that he was. While none of his stories actually seemed to be true up until this point, his sudden change of tone had made it slightly more believable. When he had told his other stories, he was giggling so hard that one might think that he had snorted at least a pound of Happy Crack. When we were headed home, just as the last tint of orange had left the sky, I asked him, "Why did you get so serious back there? You’re always such a total goofball.” “I lost my grandpa to Roy Terrance. My gramma was with him when it happened. Haven’t you ever wondered why she’s so grumpy all the time?” His grandmother was, in fact, very crotchety. I had never bothered to ask why she was that way. If this was all some elaborate hoax by Terry, I was going to slap him into next Thursday when it was done. That night, I had a horrible nightmare. Like most people, I couldn’t remember much about it, but it had Roy Terrance written all over it. Even though it was roasting on that hot South Carolina night, I had woken up with the chills.

By the time 6 PM had rolled around, I had already packed my old school backpack with basic equipment like a flashlight and a few bags of Chex Mix in case we got hungry. By 6:30, I had rolled out into the neighborhood as fast as an overweight 11-year-old could. I had to admit, I was actually pretty excited. Finally, at around 6:55, I arrived at the small creek where Terry had already set up a small fire and was roasting marshmallows. If I hadn’t decided to show up, I would have disappointed him like hell. “How exactly is this going to work out? Are we just going to camp out here all night? We don’t know when he’s supposed to show up,” I said. “Er’ll wert erl nert hurr erf er herft ter.” He had stuffed his face with a marshmallow. “What?” He crammed the marshmallow down his throat. “I said, I’ll wait here all night if I have to.” “Whatever,” I retorted as I plopped down next to his fire (he had thrown three lighters in to keep it lit) and began to pull out my snacks.

After about three hours, the first of the crickets had begun to sing their endless chirping song as the last streak of sun had reached its end. I had begun to grow irritated, and a little bit tired. Terry was wide awake, his hand glued to the bag of marshmallows. He had begun his eternal gaze on the top of the pole again. “Terry…? Man, I’m tired. If I don’t see a crispy dead dude in the next hour, I’m out.” “Mmmfkay.” His cheek stuck out like a squirrel’s with another marshmallow. I snuggled up to the fire and began to doe off. Just as I was about to slip into unconsciousness, a loud, crusty, brittle peeling sound echoed through the hills and out into the forest. I immediately sat up. My vision was pretty blurred form having almost dozed off, but I could make out Terry’s shape. He was gaping, wide-eyed, at the top of the pole. If there had been a bit of moonlight, I might have seen what I was sure to have seen up there, but the crescent moon sat beyond the trees, like the shed. In an instant, Terry was on his bike and flying up the hill, bag of marshmallows in hand. I managed to pull myself up and get to my bike. I began peddling like a madman when I realized that my chain had popped off. Stupid damn bike. With my eyes adjusting to the dark, I peered back at the top of the pole one more time before I bolted to the top of the hill.

Roy Terrance was not so much of a person as he was a sagging shape. His flesh, dark as the night, was clinging to his bones for dear life. His facial features, though not entirely evident, seemed to be in a constant state of both agony and ecstatic joy. And that eye… that one eye he had left, deep in its socket, gazed upon me with absolute hatred and insatiable want. Just when it seemed that he was ready to climb off of the wire and come for me, the weak spine that had been holding his head to that molten pile of flesh and bones snapped, sending what was left of his skull tumbling into the fire Terry had started. It gave me one glowing, burning satisfied grin before disintegrating into a wisp of ash. I had been halfway up the hill before I had realized I was moving. I followed the bike tracks Terry had left, which led further into the hills instead of off to the side, where the trail led back to the neighborhood. Just as I clawed my way to the top of the hill, I saw a thin shape, dangling from above. “Oh no,” I croaked.

Terry’s bike, that blazing orange bike that he loved so much, was left wrecked at the base of a telephone pole. Above, Terry’s body hung limply. Although, it didn’t look much like Terry anymore. Terry hadn’t been on the wires as long as Roy, which made it even worse. He was charred, but not entirely. His eyes bulged from his head in constant shock. What was left of his hair stood on end, still smoking. The seemingly endless wires above entangled Terry’s neck like a boa constrictor. Dangling from his scrawny, burnt little arm was a bag of marshmallows, melted to his hand from the heat.

The police investigation didn’t dig up much. They had scoured all throughout the area and had not found any evidence that anyone was ever there. I begged them to search the telephone wires, but they continued to state that there was no evidence that anybody had even touched the wires. The search continued for three weeks. After police had finally given up, Terry’s grandmother passed away. For those last few days, she hadn’t said anything to anyone at all. She only sat and stared at a picture of her and her husband for the remainder of her life. After the house had been cleared out, the contents of Terry’s room were offered to me. His entire collection of horror movies, action figures and all else were donated to Goodwill. My request. I went back a few years later. We had gone to Gaston to visit with our family for a while, and I had requested that we stop by the neighborhood. Any evidence that we had ever been there those few fateful years ago had been swept away by police or the weather. Now, like before, there was only useless garbage and telephone poles. Just as I was getting ready to walk away, I caught a glimpse of something in the corner of my eye. I only saw a tiny bit of it before it fluttered away. It was a melted marshmallow bag.

#creepypasta #creepy pasta #spookypasta

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royalarmy93 · 7 years

Text

[HOSEOK FF] FAREWELL MY LOVE PT. 1

Author: Royal Genre: Angst Language: English Cast: Hoseok + Reader

—

You made the right decision Hoseoka. I don’t have to worry about you anymore. We are breaking up" you said it in tears and take off the diamond ring and hand it to him.

Both of you were in tears. No last kisses, no last hugs. The rain just poured down the earth like its understand your feeling. That decision is not an easy things. How can you broke up when you still madly in love? But that decision should be made soon.

—

November 10, 2016. You will never forget that day for the rest of your life. After having a secret relationship with Hoseok for 3 years, you decided to introduce him to your family.

The night was just fine, the stars shining like usual and the moon looking shyly behind a small cloud. You and Hoseok were holding hands. You look so happy looking at your dearest boyfriend kissing your hand with a new ring on it.

Just a slight moment you both were in shocked when a young lady suddenly running across the road. Out of nowhere, her body flew after getting hit by the car.

Both of you rushes to get out of the car to see what happened. And you lost all the strength on your knees and fall down the asphalt the moment you discover that the young lady was your sister, Venus.

It’s been 3 months since the accident yet she is still in comma. Hoseok and you postponed the plan to meet your family. You begged him not telling your parents that you and him are lover, he agreed to that and he said he will take all the responsibility.

“She will wake up, but the things is she won’t be able to walk anymore. Her limp has badly broken. She will use wheelchair to support her” said the doctor.

Your parents can’t hold their tears anymore. Your mom scream her lungs out thinking of the future of her beloved daughter.

“Look what have you done to my daughter you bastard!!” your dad rushes to Hoseok and grab his collar

“How are you gonna take responsibility for this?! She can’t walk anymore!!” dad crying and almost hit Hoseok’s face if you didn’t running to stop him.

“I will marry her” said Hoseok

You can’t believe what you heard. You look at him with a teary eyes. He look at you, trying to hold back his tears.

“I will take responsibility by marrying her and make sure will be with her forever”.

Your dad release his hand from Hoseok’s collar and once again you fall down the floor. The sky has fallen and hits you.

—

“I am sorry Y/N. I can’t think of any better idea” He said while holding your hand.

Both of you were sitting in the cafetaria. The coffee you ordered has been cold for some good time due to eternal silent before he starts to speak.

You wipe your tears with the back of your hand and fake a smile.

“I understand” you said

“It’s all my fault. I should have not driving carelessly” he replied without looking at you

You know well, he drove carefully that night, you were right beside him and you know everything. Your sister just suddenly showed up running and that accident happened. Whenever You think about that accident your heart in pain.

“You made the right decision Hoseoka. I don’t have to worry about you anymore. We are breaking up” you said it in tears and take off the diamond ring and hand it to him

—

Your sister has discharged from the hospital. Hoseok also has moved to the closest neighborhood near your home. Your sister now moving to the first floor since she can no longer wandering around in the second floor where she used to be with a wheelchair. All the centre of attention been fully for her.

“Y/N go open the door. Someone’s coming” your mom shouts your name from your sister’s room. You rushed to the front door leaving your unfinished work.

“Oh Hi” he waved his hand.

You tried to put your neutral face hiding your feeling and tears. Trying not to hug him since you have been missed him like crazy. You smile lightly and assist him to the living room where you doing your work. He looks a bit surprise and you fix your work and collect all the paper in a hurry without realizing one paper has been slipped under the sofa.

You heard the door room opened, and your sister come out with your mom. Your sister looks so dressed up. Seems like she is going to have a date with Hoseok.

“Sorry, did I make you wait too long?” asked your sister with her angelic smile

“Nah, I have just arrived here. Even Y/N hasn’t asked me to take a sit” he replied and look at you

“Yah Y/N, you can’t do that to your future brother in law” your sister react to Hoseok’s words and pout her lips. She is just freaking cute like that you can’t handle it.

“I even planing to make him wait forever in the front door and not letting him in” you jokingly respond to your sister.

“Enough ladies, we had a guest. So Prince Charming, here is your princess. You better take a good care of her and back home before midnight. She needs to wake up early for tomorrow, I have made an appointment with the doctor for her check up” said mom

“Yes Mam. I will” said Hoseok and hold the wheelchair’s handling without looking at you.

Your heart aches but it’s all for the best. You can’t see Hoseok live in guilt forever and you can’t see your sister suffer either. You checking on your paper work and realize a sheet of paper had been missed. You look every possible place where that paper probably slipped. Under the sofa, under the table but that sheet of paper has gone. You are afraid someone from this house will find it and you will be in trouble.

—-

“Venus, excuse me a moment. I got to go to the toilet. Can you wait for a while?”

“Sure, Carry on. I am fine. I’ll wait here in the car” said Venus

Hoseok goes quickly to the Toilet and stopped. He put his hand in his pocket and take out a paper he hid from your house before. And read it

If i told you my feeling a little bit sooner, what would have changed then? I can shed a few tears and pretend I am okay. But my feeling for you is limitless

Hoseok crunches the paper and started crying. It’s just a few words but he knew it was for him. His heart also in pain, just like you. He knew you tried too hard not to show your longing towards him.

—

“Sis, can you help me drop off to Hoseok’s studio before you go to work and pass this to him?” asked your sister while you are putting on your shoes

“Me? But i don’t know his studio and what is that in that bag?"you asked and pointing into a bag. You lied. You know all about him, put aside that studio

"Oh this? This is a banana cake, I baked it since dawn so its probably still warm for his breakfast” said your sister flustered

You twitch a bit realize that Hoseok has allergies to bananas, but you can’t tell your sister that. You just take the bag and she hands you the bag “Okay then, I am off to work now, don’t forget to text me his address” you said and leave the house.

You take a deep breath and sigh then toss the bag to the passenger seat. “what am I doing now”. You slam your head to the steer and head off somewhere.

No one in the studio when you were there, somehow you find it relieved. You don’t want to meet him today, and later on. It’s for the best. You just put the bag on the door handling and leave a memo “breakfast for you” and leave before he came.

—

*Incoming call*

Venus: “Hello~”

Hoseok: “Hi..”

Venus: “Hoseoka, did you get the banana cake I give you?”

Hoseok: “Banana cake?” Hoseok looks so confused. “uhm.. yeah, it’s tasty. I never know you can bake a cake before”.

Venus: “Don’t flatter me to much, or else I would give you that cake everyday and my sister wouldn’t like it since I will disturb her by asking her to send it to you everyday”. She sounds pretend to fake a cute whining

Hoseok: “hahhaha.. Okay okay, thank you for the cake. I enjoyed it so much. But I have to hung up the phone, the boys need me for practice”

Venus: “Oh okay then. Take care Hun. Bye”

Hoseok look at the cheese cake in his hand. Then said “Banana? I am sure this is cheese not a banana. Wait, did she said Y/N drop this to my studio? Then it means that…. ” Hoseok gradually take out his phone and call a number but the person he called is not available.

“Thank you for giving me this cheese cake. I am glad you still remember I am allergic to banana’s”. Hoseok sent a message to you.

—

You grabbed your phone on your chest after reading his message. It’s just a simple words but you can’t take it easily like it’s nothing. How can you just let it slipped when you know it’s a Banana cake? How can you let him eat it?

“Why does it feel so hard yet give so much pain for me to Love you Hoseoka. Why does it feel even harder for me to forget you. Should I just run away and die?” You talk to yourself.

To be continued..

#bts #fanfic #bangtan #jhope #bts jhope #farewell

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