Vines

AN: Ahem. Hi. I am not very proud of this chapter or the way I've worded most of it. It stemmed from my lack of patience for it, especially in this chapter and I think it's because I might've added too much to my plate? I had something else in mind, but that would require so many more hours of editing. So, I am taking back to one chapter every four days thingy. But hold on! Don't kill me. I got a deal...how about every 5 days instead of 4? Ha? Not 8. But 5. It's better than 8! Ahem. I know it might not seem like a big deal, but this is a passion project, while I am writing something else entirely, which takes a lot of my time. Also studying stuff. Not for school. Anyways. All I do is write, read, watch Gilmore Girls for 20 min when I'm eating (though I've already seen it one million times and then once more) and then I write, edit, manga reading for another break and then I write again. (Kingdom fans anywhere? Berserk? What's up?) But this is the life of a maybe, in the future, published writer- she said with hope in every cell of her body. But still…I think I need to...move? A bit? Haha. Oh, man. Anyways, glad you guys enjoyed it while it lasted. Through 5 days, way better than 8. Am I right? High five! No? (I will let myself out)

Also! Not for everyone, but any of you know how to write a good synopsis, hit me up with your best writing in a comment. If you get picked, I will answer 3 questions truthfully, as in, I won't avoid it or make something up. Like a bad genie. It will be honest, strictly yes or no answers to your best guesses of the future plot points or whatever else. But if it's about a character's personality, an explanation from my point of view, or something of the sort? Or, you just get my email if you want it haha. I don't know what to offer here. Because what I am saying is...I abhor my synopsis, and I don't know how not spoil anything and at the same time not sound like: "Hi, this is Shana, and I like apples. One day, I lost them, but I will find them. I promise." Cause that's how my synopsis sounds to me. Man, I will step up my game for the next one.

And I will let you read now. Bye.

I knew that my parents loved me. They've never beaten me up or terrorized me, but when I had to stand on my tiptoes to reach the doorknob, their door was always locked when I had a nightmare. They were kind, but they used to disapprove when I would spend too much time outside, spend too much time looking at screens or do anything that a 'good child' shouldn't do. Coffee was black listed. Alcohol was not even a subject.

But I've always been curious to try anything that would alter my mundane state of mind. An escape. A crack in the wall. A change of emotion. I used to sleep as an escape to the point that we started fighting about it. Mainly because sleep was allowed, but too much or too little was not allowed. Exactly what I wanted when I was six.

When I had the worst panic attack of my life was while they were scolding me, which ended with me going to the hospital. They didn't fault me for what I couldn't do or didn't do anymore. After I nearly overdosed on pills years later, their expectations diminished to: keep breathing.

The therapist couldn't find much fault in that either. But in what wasn't seen. The beatings that have never happened. The insults that haven't made it to my young ears. The lack of aggression and the lack of love were just as traumatizing apparently. The encouraging words I've never heard, the warm embraces I've never received, and the relationship we've never had.

They called it emotional neglect.

I called it: my fault.

And then they couldn't bear watching me wither. They've never admitted it out loud, but that's how it felt like.

All of a sudden, my brother became my whole family. And Jung was far more understanding than they ever were. I felt like I could tell him about anything besides my addiction to escaping.

But no matter who supposedly lived with me, I was still alone most of the time. I soon learned that absence makes the heart grow fonder. Yet, if too much time has passed, absence makes the heart …that much absent.

Today, hearing my mother's voice hurt something within me and I couldn't comprehend why.

"Did you try to find the furthest university away from your brother?"

"No, mom."

"Were you trying to make us choose between seeing his pregnant girlfriend and you? Are you trying to test our love?"

"No..."

"Then what were you thinking Jungkook?!"

Some distance between the phone and my ear was needed after the sudden outburst. As I calmly replied:

"It's got a good reputation. Good teachers. Namjoon's got a scholarship. And it's near an actual city. There'll be a lot of people for once, which is great."

"You mean, there'll be a lot of pollution."

"That comes with the people." I joked.

She sighed.

"Sorry."

"Don't be sorry towards me, be sorry to Namjoon!"

"I am…" I mumbled mostly to myself.

"I've heard that he is the best at your school! And there's only one more school and that means he's the smartest child out of all the ones born here, period. So, why on earth did he choose the same university as you?!"

"He's afraid he won't be able to make any friends…ouch…"

A direct hit from under the table had me rubbing the leg without shame when he mocked: "Are you talking about yourself?"

"Shh."

"You didn't coerce him somehow, did you?"

"No…mom. Quite the opposite…"

Kim Namjoon was the first dealer I've ever known face to face.

Before he started giving me some green almost weekly instead of monthly, I had to hang out with people that I didn't like. Pretend I wasn't mad or that whatever jokes they were making about me weren't hurtful, so I could keep smoking with them.

Any pride I've used to have, it all got chipped away slowly and then it was gone as if it was never there. Mainly because I've told myself that pride was not worth it even after I've apologized to the same person who's hit me without any good reason.

I couldn't ask my brother for extra money without a good story. And after I ran out of lies, I had to find another way. So, asking casual smokers or straight-out obvious addicts about dealers was out of the question. Which meant that I had to steal weed from my 'friends.' Or go to dangerous lengths to find someone who had any. Despite my anxiety and natural shyness, weed did make me say hi to more strangers whose faces I forgot days later than I could today, recall. Withdrawals coupled with adrenaline made me much more courageous than I've ever thought I could be.

I'd be in heaven for a day, two, or as long as they'd smoke. Cause no one ever wanted to do it every day. They all 'had enough' at some point. They all had to do something else with their lives.

It could also be that they got sick of the kid who gets high and then loses half of his mental faculties. Because I wasn't the 'fun junkie' whom everyone loved. I was the one anyone would want to get rid of or use for entertainment because it was hard to get along or pretend when I couldn't think or tell the time, the day, or much of anything.

I used them through actions and lied through my teeth while I was sober.

I'd hang out whenever, with whoever. I'd mold myself after the person who had the stuff and then bolted. I've never felt any regret for what I did, but I did feel lonely every time I met people whom I wished would've been my friends and yet, I already had too many trust issues to risk putting any effort into forming any true bond. I forced myself to never get invested from the get-go.

I repeatedly told myself that I just…wanted to smoke and they had it. Until it was the truth.

And Namjoon was the only one who kept getting me the same generous amount if I sucked him off. He was the easiest, but also, the most nerve-wracking person to get my fix from.

I was able to say no to doing anything more only because I was truly frightened he'd rip me in two. And because he's known me since we were young. That, in my mind translated to: he won't leave the second I'll refuse him. Not because I had any self-esteem left by the time that I've found out that he was selling green left and right.

I've kissed other people for weed before, but I've never had sex. Be it luck or my age, that offer didn't pop out very often. It was mostly a joke between my many, temporary high 'friends' but never an actual possibility.

It was when my options were running out and using my body did become an option in my mind that Namjoon came along. But while I let that be on the table for him, there was nothing short of terror when he offered to give me weed more often, while still doing the same thing that I was already, more or less used to.

I didn't believe it would last forever. I didn't believe he was content with the blowjobs since he rarely ejaculated from them in the first place. But then again, he could've raped me in that bathroom and no one would've been around to hear.

Every time, I told myself that I'd just have to pretend nothing was wrong after he will have raped me since I didn't want to resort to my old ways.

I had too much weed at that point, and I was tired all the time. The amount, frequency, and quality made me spoiled and lazy. Not too long after, I was sure I'll just have to lose my virginity in that bathroom. And I'd just have to erase it from my memory like I've erased everything else.

But he didn't rape me.

That's how Kim Namjoon earned my trust. And that's the only reason I ever went to his house or gave him my phone number. Besides being desperate at the thought of going back to the old methods and undergoing the wonderful withdrawal symptoms or the return of the natural anxiety I was constantly running away from. Like one could run from its own shadow.

Experience that I had to go through at the end of every year to pass the exams. An experience I swore I wouldn't have to go through the moment I would get a normal job.

But today, I still can't think too highly of myself since I was doing nothing but waiting for my next fix. Then and now. Wait until I'll fall asleep to escape in my dreams. Wait until…I'll magically disappear. Since thinking about wanting anything else made me feel physically ill and hopeless.

When I was asked about my dreams for the future, it dawned on me that I didn't consider myself capable of doing anything. Being able to think much in itself, was painful to me. Anything on top of what I was already doing was torture.

When I was advised to use my body mechanically, I tried and realized how weak it was.

I looked in the mirror and saw the failure that I will become each time. But I had to keep pretending I was meant, if not for greatness, at least set up for a normal, respectable way of living, until the moment when, most likely, weed wouldn't be enough and I'd either try something else or give up on living altogether.

At the moment, Namjoon's presence alone became another way to forget the world. I started wondering if he will help or hinder the things I'd have to put up with to get a new friend that had weed or an actual dealer. But anyone who didn't sit and smoke or use any way to alter their mind all day was bothersome in my now, cloudy brain.

The stress that Fred caused Namjoon was enough. And if getting rid of that stress meant that he wouldn't be my dealer then I thought: So be it. I found myself strangely accepting of that fact. It was a bit liberating to know that the claws of dangers were now only pretty pink nails.

"I understand that being best friends and secret roommates for a while now is something rare. Getting along so well is something wonderful. But this is his future we're talking about. It's not just about today or tomorrow…"

"Mom. It'd only make a difference if he would've gone to Harvard. And he didn't get enough extracurricular activities or so he said…"

The breathless tone she was using caused a throb under the left rib.

"Did he apply there and got rejected?"

"No…"

"DID HE GET ACCEPTED?!"

"He didn't apply, mom."

And as glad as I was that we were putting miles between Fred and us. The bottom line was that I would have no dealer the second we will step foot out of this house. And that terrified me more than not being near my family, or than going to university, and or moving altogether.

"Excuse my language, Jungkook but…why the hell not?"

"Jungkook, pst, pass me the phone."

I covered the speaker and whispered back a definite: "No."

"Pass me the phone or…."

I revealed the tip of the tongue. He grabbed my foot from under the table as a response to my childhood behavior.

I fell on my right arm and it burned against the floor while I was getting dragged toward him. Hearing mom in one ear telling me what advantages he'd get if he made it to Harvard. And him, softly chuckling when I tried kicking him with the free leg.

"…the name alone carries such weight and esteem that regardless of the final results he will be…"

And he snatched it.

"No. Give it back! Namjoon…no…" I whisper-shouted.

And my head was still under the table, legs outside it and under him, and the pants…they were getting pulled down.

All I could do was sigh.

"Mrs. Jeon? Yeah, hi. Yes. It's me. I didn't apply there because I have this fear of flying…. Yeah, it's quite severe. I'm anxious enough about having to move to a new place with new people, let alone go to another country. Aha…not as bad as Jungkook but…aha…I'm being careful."

'He should've applied for acting…'

My soft cock met his hand and my forehead met the bottom of the table.

"Shit."

He pumped it up and down. Spitting on it while casually agreeing with whatever mom was telling him.

"Well, my heart is in literature, but the money in today's day and age lies in business. Yes… a double major was the best choice. Yes…aha…that's because my father was a teacher."

Even though I was upset at the ways that my body was betraying me every time, the second he uttered the word father, I found myself trying to breathe slower to hear him better.

'He's never talked about…'

"He was a writer. Yes… He loved to write and so do I, but since I had to study so much…I never had the…":

"Ah…don…"

'But is this a lie too?'

"Time. Yes, I understand. No…there's no need to pay for anything. Having Jungkook over is worth every penny he's used for making hot chocolate and taking long baths," He laughed with prolonged sounds. A fake laugh that somehow was my fault since that got me a harsh squeeze of the balls, and another unintentional head bump with the underside of the table. A direct hit that had me surrendering to the sensations he was forcing upon me while I was whining like a child.

"Soap…soap…stop…Nam-ah-." I pleaded with a low voice.

All that got me was a light slap on the already hurting balls.

"I will take care of him. And he will take care of me…in his way."

"Asshole…" I let out through clenched teeth.

But he took the insult as a wish that he had no problem fulfilling. Instantly, a finger found its way inside me faster than my mom finished the sentence that got Namjoon to say: "If Mrs. Jeon feels guilty, tell him that there's no reason for…and well, I don't like speaking about money…yes, well, I will hand over the phone to Jungkook if money keeps being offered. Well, then..." My parents thought he was joking but I knew that he wasn't. "...that is not how it is. I like having him around more than he does in fact. I'm always alone at home and I get easily bored…and…No, no, nothing of the sort.…"

Two fingers.

'He's so annoying sometimes. I think I'm starting to seriously hate him.'

"Yeah? Oh. Hello, Mr. Jeon."

"Hand me the phone!"

He seemed to have finished convincing mom of whatever he thought he needed her to think since the phone made it into my outstretched hand in the following second.

"Hi, dad." I deadpanned.

"Jungkook! I was not expecting you."

"Well…sorry for the disappointment."

"Jungkook, don't talk to your father that way!"

"Sorry, moah…mom."

"What happened?"

"I bumped my knee…"

'Something's warm and wet…around my…'

"When are you two leaving?"

"Tomorrow. Seven," I quickly replied. Feeling myself sweating bullets all of a sudden.

"So soon? We wish we could be there...if only we had one more week."

"I don't choose the dates..."

"Of course not." I heard mom mumbling something before he continued, "Namjoon wouldn't tell us if he has a card or any other way that we can send him money…can you please send us all the details through text?"

"If he doesn't want to accept it directly, then just send it to me through my new card."

"Doesn't he also have a card?"

"Well…yeah, but…holy mother of God!"

'That's a tongue on my head. That's his tongue on my…'

"What's wrong?!"

"Foot cramping…up. So…hard."

"Don't scare me like that. Where were we? We'd rather you convince him to accept it, after all, you are the one who's lived without paying rent at his house without telling us. I'll even send it through the mail if I have to. Oh, and don't forget to let us know the address of the university, and also the…"

I knew he was talking, but I stopped hearing. I shut my eyes without meaning to. It was so warm and so good that I never wanted it to stop. But before my dad finished letting me know about what we had to do to get there safely, the blissful sensation was gone.

"It's his choice. But if you want me to pass it to him, then send it to me. Nothing ah, else I can do. In fact, can we talk to you later, dad?" I was oblivious if he had asked a question or made a statement previously.

"Text me, son." He demanded; a bit irritated.

"I will. Soon. Bye."

"Bye."

I stared at the tiny device to make sure that I did hang up and didn't only think about hanging up. Free to scream when his hand started casually jerking me off all over again.

"Did you just…suck me off?!"

"A bit."

"That felt… "I bit my lip and went on in a very low tone, "really good."

"I know."

'He has some kind of genius hearing. I swear.'

I felt my cheeks with the palm of my hands, and they were warm. I could feel myself blushing by the minute at what I had just told him. But I couldn't let the opportunity slip, so I forced out the words:

"Then why did you…ahem…why did you…"

"Stop?"

"Yeah."

"I don't like sucking dick, it seems. I've never found it appealing, but now I am sure that I truly don't like it."

I didn't know what to say besides: "Stop jerking me off, you freak. I almost moaned while I was on the phone."

"No, you couldn't help but moan because you were enjoying it. Or maybe it was the bump to the head since you're a masochist."

"Please stop…"

The pleading tone had him cease any movement for a total of three seconds.

"Why?"

"I need to go to the bathroom."

"Liar."

"I can't…have your hand doing that after …that," I admitted with embarrassment.

"Not enough?"

I sighed.

"Please. Pull me all the way out."

He sighed too. But dragged me until I could see the ceiling.

I, however, pulled my pants up as soon as I could see the two unfocused irises and cheeks that were similar in color to mine.

Mumbled "Drunk pervert." On my way to the bathroom after I've escaped his grasp by miraculously slipping away.

"Did you finish packing?"

He followed me.

I shut the door in his face. And locked it.

An ironic, bitter "Really?" went through.

But I was already sitting on the floor, head between my legs.

'Nothing he has ever done felt like that. Well, besides hitting that spot over and over and over…'

"Jungkook?!"

"Mm?"

"I don't think we'll be roommates. I've put in a request, but…they didn't give me a definite yes or no."

"I know."

"What do you think we should do?!"

"There's going to be strangers. You said so yourself. Does it even matter?"

"I don't care, but if we're going to encounter homophobic people or not when I, you know, fuck you on some desk then it's going to be cumbersome."

I unlocked the door and stared at him, dead behind the eyes.

"You're not going to do anything. We'll hold hands and kiss, at most. And we'll do …the rest in the shower, late at night. Carefully. Only when everyone's asleep." I pointed a finger at his face. He smirked at it.

"You think I'll be able to fuck you only in the shower for the next, how many years?"

"Just try not to do…whatever you just did…I mean, not that, but…touching me without my consent."

"But I had the consent of your cock." I let my hands fall by the sides and my eyes widen, "Oh, you're blushing, how adorable."

I slammed the door on the grinning face.

But made the mistake of not locking it.

He walked in and leaned in, reeking of alcohol.

"I'll just keep asking the faculty to put us in the same room until they'll say yes. And you'll do the same."

"Fine." I breathed out, attempting to pass him by, but my arm was twisted behind my back before I made it two steps out the threshold.

A cold, stern whisper made my insides turn: "I thought you needed to go to the bathroom."

"False alarm…" I said quickly.

"Did you finish packing?"

"Almost…"

"What's almost?"

"Almost started…"

"You little."

He bit my ear and despite the whining sounds I was making; I could feel the blood going towards the lower regions.

Because this is what I had been turned into.

Someone who was now seeking pleasure through the pain. And the two were not that far off anymore. To the point that the rougher he was the harder I'd get.

He succeeded.

He had trained me slowly but surely.

I didn't even notice when I started getting turned on instead of being afraid.

But the two were starting to feel strikingly similar to my genitals.

However, I couldn't let him know that. Nor the fact that what I hated the most were the days in which he didn't as much as graze my hand. Caress my cheek. Bite my neck. Or pinch my nipple.

I craved him paying attention to me in the weirdest of ways. But since they came with hours of relentless, unmerciful screwing, I was avoiding all those little attentions at all costs.

Then again, we were about to spend a lot of time apart. And with every single folded t-shirt, the idea of what I thought my future would look like seemed unsavory.

There was not a doubt in my mind that he'll get along with whoever he meets. No doubt in my mind that he'll beat the roommate into submission if they wouldn't let him do whatever he wanted as long as it didn't get him kicked out of the university.

But I didn't want to think about myself.

Not because he didn't have my back. But because he did.

And I was scared to get him into trouble. To get anyone in trouble with him in case I got bullied again.

Afraid that I will get caught smoking. Comforting myself at the thought that I couldn't possibly be the only smoker.

I had to find that crowd.

I had to trust that he wouldn't search a crowd similar to Fred's.

That he'd stop drinking or popping whatever drug that made him act without thinking. Touch without guilt. Jerk me off with my parents on the phone without caring.

He wasn't himself as time passed.

But at the same time, I started to wonder if this was who he was more so than the Namjoon who was always being careful.

Someone who would think twice before pissing in my ass. Someone who'd be reticent to lie to my parents.

None of that was present. No filter. No second-guessing. Nothing.

It was raw.

Raw fucking. Raw honesty. Raw Namjoon.

About to get razored by sobriety as soon as tomorrow's sun came up.

And the number of people who'd be able to call my mom while I was sleeping to let her know about the wrongdoings of a tall, genius guy doing me in the bathroom increased exponentially.

"All packed?"

"Almost. And I mean kind of done."

"Charger? Money? The second phone?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"So, no second phone?"

"It's all in here." I patted the handbag.

"Pajamas? Boxers?"

"Look at it. It's full. It doesn't matter anymore. It won't close if I keep adding to it," I waved his concerns away. He raised an eyebrow, but his eyes didn't change one bit. They were glass-like lately.

"Credit card?"

"Yeah."

"Toothbrush?"

"I need to brush my teeth in the morning," I argued.

"I've bought a new one."

"And put it where?"

"I don't…remember. Do you?"

"No."

His mind was only reliable when it came to smart comebacks and keeping his balance. But everything else was a blur for him as much as it was for me. Something that I kept forgetting because his acting was that good.

"Water?"

He got me a glass while I was searching for clothes that got mixed with his. And I took it. Smelled it. Analyzed it while he was cooking dinner and then sipped on it shyly at first. And then decided to chug it.

After careful consideration, I concluded that some of them were indeed just plain old water. Some of them were not. Either way, he was keeping me hydrated on purpose. And I was being oblivious on purpose as well.

And I kept wishing that there was a powder of some sort in every single glass or bottle of water that I drank. I hoped he would be able to keep me this disconnected from reality when we moved, but he probably wouldn't risk getting caught on the way to the place he's been studying for since the day he laid hands on a school book.

I zipped up my luggage and then rolled a joint.

'I'll have withdrawals, won't I? How are you going to hide what you've been doing to me when I start feeling sick? But I guess you will be having them too, so…you won't be there to…'

"Dinner's ready!"

"I'm not hungry!"

"I don't care! You're eating!"

"But I'm nauseous…"

"I didn't hear that! What?!"

"In a minute!"

At some point, having a drink at the table and smoking at the same time didn't feel shameful anymore. It's been only a few weeks, but it became comfortable. It was cozy. Somewhat normal.

And I didn't want it to stop no matter how much my ass hurt every time it touched the ground.

"Did you take the pain pill I've left by the Tv?"

"Is it that obvious?"

"Only if you know where to look…"

'And where are you looking?' I thought, but didn't want to find out.

I placed the pill on top of a tablespoon of mashed potatoes and swallowed it in one go.

'Not that this pill will help much at this point.'

"Did you call Fred?"

Whatever appetite he had seemed to have left him in that very second.

"Not yet."

"What are you waiting for?" I wanted to know.

"A pigeon with a letter, obviously."

He threw the fork on the plate with a metallic thump. Leaning back.

"Namjoon, did you consider that he actually cares about you?"

"He does. But that …doesn't…" A sigh and a shake of the head, "Eat. Shut up."

"Wow. Remember that you are the one who told me that we have to talk about stuff?" I pointed at his face with my fork, chewing on the boiled chicken until it tasted worse than it probably was.

"And I still think that. But not about this…not now…I'll call him later. Alright? Happy?"

But later never happened.

The night rolled around. The spooning under the huge blanket turned into him touching every single place he could until I was ticklish and wide awake.

"What are you even doing?"

"Memorizing."

"What? Where my chest is? I could've sworn that you also had one."

"How everything feels. Now. While I can still touch you everywhere for hours on end."

I turned to look at him. Pupils dilated even in the dark. Face smaller than it had ever been. Hair, in desperate need of a brush.

I sighed.

"We'll be in the same dorm."

"You don't know that. There can be a lot of buildings and…"

"We'll request a change."

"We won't be the only ones who'll do that. And without a very good reason, they might not approve it."

"Then we'll make it work somehow. Come on. Stop thinking about how you won't be able to…do me. And think about what's about to happen tomorrow. You're going to keep studying, just like your grandma has always wanted you to."

"Did you know she wished she'd die before I went to uni so I wouldn't go to the local one?"

I replied with a strangled: "No."

"She did. And it's not just about doing you. Well, it's also about that." He emphasized his point by pulling on an already erect nipple, "But I think I got used to you, being around me. And we won't…"

"It might be the other half of your major, but some classes will coincide and if not, maybe…we'll study together!"

"You don't study." He deadpanned.

"Namjoon." I clasped his face, ignoring the gentle squeeze of my right butt cheek as I turned and did so. "I am just as freaked out as you are but if we're tired, tomorrow is going to be ten times harder. So, let's just go to sleep. Please?"

He nodded, turned me back around, and back hugged me.

Ten to twenty minutes later, his snoring let me know that he had fallen asleep.

And I was still staring at the wall.

For the first time, I put my hands on his hands and felt them around my chest.

The faint heartbeat against the upper part of my back, the hit of his breathing on the crown of my head, and the way his legs kept mine up and folded.

'Ah. I feel like I'm about to die…'

My breathing no longer matched his. It got faster and faster. Until it sprung out of control. The wall before me seemed closer. All the walls were slowly closing in. The air was a cloud of dark smoke. The world was out to get me. To get us.

And I wished that I was having a heart attack. Wished I could die right then and there. So, no changes would ever have to happen. Not while I was alive.

Namjoon would forever be next to me. I would forever be high. And nothing else would matter.

The rest of the world could keep doing whatever it wanted. None of it would impact us. No one would ever get into this room.

Tomorrow would never come.

I wished it didn't come. But after the pain from my chest grew so unbearable that I could feel the tears coming out in straight lines without the help of the eyelids, the thoughts concerning the how I could end it if I had the guts to do it were comforting. And not scary at all. But that's all they were, thoughts to keep me going. And I knew that. Which was also weirdly comforting.

I felt like I was twisting inside myself. Reaching corners and edges of a spiral made up of insane logic that kept me somewhat functional.

When Namjoon woke up, I had slept for exactly two hours after being too exhausted from the panic attack. And he decided to wake me up by kissing my cheeks, neck, and shoulders.

Every kiss felt like ice cubes touching laid upon heated up skin.

"Morning." He told me, sleepily. "Shit. It's already six. We need to get dressed…"

I moved, but not because I wanted to get ready. But because I wanted to have enough time to smoke before I had to shower. And when 7 am came way too early, we were still kissing in the bathroom.

'We can't be late.' I thought, but didn't voice it.

I let his fingers roam while I hung by his neck.

He was warm. Namjoon was warmer now.

The outside was not.

He was here.

The road was long.

Hence, I didn't want to go anymore.

After he got out of his own house and I watched the last drop of weed I had as it was circling the drain and disappear into the abyss, I knew I had to follow him. But I refused to get rid of that one earpiece that kept the playing The Neighborhood's albums on repeat. It made it feel like the outside almost wasn't real.

The hours passed by like the cars on the highway and the soberer I was, the more lackluster all colors were. The trees no longer looked painted, they just looked dead. The voices of other people were starting to sound crisp and important. As if I should be paying attention. As if I couldn't zone out and escape to my happy place. As if what I was seeing was indeed real.

And when the city and its buildings were starting to emerge from the horizon, my eyes were stuck ahead. Everything from the right and left was lost.

We had to take a few more busses to get there. So, Namjoon had to talk to strangers. I was too busy peeking inside the stores through windows. Namjoon bought the tickets while I was trying to avoid being bitten by a dog on a leash.

The pigeons. The lack of vegetation. The gray buildings. The secluded parks. The multitude of stores, restaurants, and gyms at every corner was overwhelming.

And the people. The people kept walking as if it was normal that so many other people were walking around. Casual. Ordinary. And not terrifying at all.

'But where are they all headed?'

"Jungkook?"

"Mm?"

"Come on. That's our bus."

We were holding hands until he must've realized that this bus in particular had more young people than the rest did. People who had luggage as well.

Possible students. Possible friends. Possible foes. Possible…something.

And that's how it started.

The buzz of the city was slowly dying out. The tall fence that was getting swallowed by leafless vines was now before us. It didn't take the time to look this place up, but it was not as near to possible job spots and many delicious restaurants were, like the sites were claiming.

Other young people got out at the same stop with us and a long brown-haired girl smiled at Namjoon. Probably because she knew they'd be studying at the same university since they both set foot on the same pavement before the tall, old brick fences at the same time. Or maybe because of something else.

The red and brown buildings were made out of brick too. The dead bushes were plenty, the benches were dirty from the last time it rained and the trees were too tall and most likely ancient.

It was beautiful. But there were so many stone roads leading to so many different buildings that it was natural for me to assume that I'll absolutely get lost.

I only bothered to pay attention to the fountain and the small store inside the campus since I was planning to use them as reference points. Boards were all over the place, filled with way too colorful or way too morbid posters. Scary drawings. Plastic coffee cups kept popping up everywhere. And cigarette buds filled the occasional trash cans.

And students, so many students chatting or straight out yelling.

I felt like I was about to suffocate.

But I had to follow Namjoon.

The one who was doing everything.

I did not have to say anything besides my name.

The dorms were not far from the buildings in which I assumed the classes will be held.

But they were just as old, if not more dilapidated.

I had no idea where I should be going now, but along the way, Namjoon's already figured it out. And without holding my hand through the process, I had some kind of student id with my tired face on it in less than an hour. Some sort of guide for freshmen that I didn't remember talking to smiled when he's showed me to the door. I opened it with the key that he gave me only to ask the only thing I was currently concerned about: "Are we in the same room?"

"No. But I will see what I can do."

"Okay," I whispered, eyeing the inside of the room from the threshold. Like I was expecting to get attacked the second I stepped in otherwise.

I didn't want to go in.

"Want me to help you unpack?" He offered.

'That might look weird if my roommate comes and sees us...'

"No. I can do it.."

"I'll go and leave my luggage too, and then we can go eat at the coffee shop that's right down the street. Sounds good or do you want to sleep?"

"I'll go."

He swiftly turned around.

I panicked.

"Wait."

One eyebrow went up, but no judgment ensued. He patiently waited for me to ask the second-best thing I wished would receive a positive response: "Are we in the same building?"

"No, I'm in the one right next to this one though. Didn't I tell you?"

"I didn't hear you."

"Don't worry, Jungkook. I'll go talk to someone about the situation right after I'll drop my stuff. Then we can go eat."

I nodded, but kept him still by staring intently into his eyes.

Like a child not being ready for the parents to go on the first day of kindergarten.

He smiled with warmth. And all the people and their chatter coming from behind closed doors seemed far away when he walked up to me and kissed my forehead.

"I'll be back."

I believed him. But the fact that I was seeing his back getting smaller and smaller, didn't sit well with me.

The big window that was letting in too much sun in the almost empty room didn't sit well with me either.

But I walked in. Which meant I couldn't turn back now. Somewhat thankful for the exhaustion since my body was too busy keeping me awake, which meant that a lot of adrenaline was being pumped. Or that's what I was telling myself while I was, blindly, unloading my clothes into the conjoint closet.

The walls were a dark, dirty green. Two cream-colored beds, on opposing empty walls. One desk at the window, one desk by the one big closet, next to the one door. And all I knew was that I didn't want the bed that was facing the door so I dropped the phone and the handbag on the other one.

The cheap mattress made sounds as soon as I sat down. The springs were digging into an already damaged behind.

I was waiting for Namjoon to come back. And I wanted to let no other thought permeate my sleepless mind.

Female Robbery playing in the right ear. Birds chirping in the other.

The window that covered almost the entire wall had one small curtain that could hide only one-half of the room at a time.

'Or maybe the other side has been ripped off by mistake?'

I didn't move from that spot. I was staring at the one-person, empty bed that was in front of mine, slightly to the left, with almost no emotions bubbling up to the surface of my consciousness.

I didn't realize that I've been looking at it from somewhere above my body for either two minutes or way longer than that. I couldn't feel my legs or arms. I couldn't feel a thing. I was just two eyes floating.

Waiting.

And waiting.

Until a phone started ringing.

I looked at the one Namjoon gave me, but that wasn't the one which was ringing.

In the inside of the luggage, the old one was much louder.

"Hi? Fred?"

"Hi. Did you two leave already?"

"Yes."

"Are you already there?"

"Yes."

"Good. Well, tell Namjoon to call me soon. And good luck, Jungkook."

"Thanks."

And it was over.

The conversation that was letting us both know that without any of us telling him when we were leaving and how far we were going, he already knew.

'Shit. Maybe Namjoon's right to be careful.'

"Ready?" I was looking at a calm Namjoon. A collected man that appeared as if this was no big deal. That, apparently, lacked any nerves whatsoever.

"Namjoon, be honest with me." I requested.

'What did you take?' I thought.

"About? Did someone call on the…old phone?" He wiped his hands on the white sweater he was wearing as if they were wet.

"Fred."

"What did he want?"

"For you to call him. Did you call him yesterday?"

"No. Why?"

"He knew that we were leaving today…"

"Of course, he knows!"

"But you didn't tell him..."

He sighed at the alarmed expression I couldn't control. And calmly, and slowly explained:

"Some of his la... people are making sure my house is always safe after a silly incident that's happened some time ago. Nothing big. Just free security," A curt smile followed by a blank stare left me more panicked.

"If that's the case, then why didn't you tell him?"

"What's the point if he'll find out anyway? So... ready?"

"For what?"

Namjoon managed to get us both settled in. To get maps. Talk to some teachers about the room arrangements. And to make not one, but two friends. All in less than three hours.

"He's the one that I was telling you about. Used to be in the same class."

"Heya, Mr. Jungkook, heard a lot about you. Well, that's a lie. I heard like two things about you. But I'm ready to hear more."

We shook hands. He smiled truthfully while I was nervously grinning.

"Jungkook, he's Malek. Malek, Jungkook. And that's my roommate..." He pointed at the guy who just exited the building and approached us. "His name's Park."

"Nice to meet you." He told me.

"Pink-haired kid!" I exclaimed in amazement.

"Huh?" The pink-haired guy stole glances between Namjoon and me.

"I saw you at the club on New Year's. I think. Or it might've been someone else…"

"No. It was him."

Park's eyes were the perfect representation of a deer caught in headlights. And they probably matched mine.

Namjoon however, was nothing short of furious at the sound of none other than Kim Taehyung.

"What's up?"

He casually waved at us. The red coat was contrasting well with the tree behind him. And his head was now covered by a few inches of thick, healthy hair.

Before I unfroze myself, and Namjoon probably counted to ten to keep himself still, Park inquired:

"Why are you here?" With more fear packed in his voice than I thought possible in four short words.

"I also go here. Didn't you hear?"

"To hell, you do..." Namjoon spat angrily under his breath.

"Nice to see you too. Been a while. And my nose's fine, thanks for asking."

But there was a faint scar on it now. Exactly where it most likely snapped from Namjoon's weight.

"You two know each other?" I asked Park but he didn't respond. Eyes wide, lips aghast, all he could see was V.

"Know each other? His very soul is mine. Tell them Jimin," Taehyung announced without shame.

That's all it took for Namjoon to head his way with clenched fists.

"No! Namjoon! You can't! Someone will see…and…"

But he was already gripping his collar. And the students around us were pointing their fingers at them a second later.

V had his hands up, however, talking and grinning sneakily:

"No, Namjoon, you shouldn't," He mocked, monotonously. After all, you wouldn't want to waste so many hours of studying to leave a week in. Now, would you?"

There was no answer, but the silence was enough to keep him going, "Getting expelled for partying is hard when everyone's doing it. But beating someone on the very first day? Well, next time you'll throw a punch in public, it might be your last. Let me put it like that." He talked with confidence and he was far too calm for comfort.

Namjoon did let go and dusted his clothes as if he's touched something dirty.

"I'll wait until we're no longer in public then. But before that, did church let you out the confession booth early, or did you escape after digging your way up the dungeon?"

V's smile was erased with that one question. Pure rage replaced it as he barked through clenched teeth: "You fucking orphaned piece of…"

Namjoon looked pleased to see him riled up. Burying his hands in both pockets of the long black overcoat and smirking.

"Is everything alright here?"

A woman who couldn't be mistaken for anything but a teacher, holding a clipboard to her chest, innocently tried to assess the situation by simply staring at our faces.

We all turned to look at her. Caught. Definitely. But it was not apparent to the naked eye who was doing what to whom since no one was touching anyone anymore. Yet the air that was surrounding us was just suffocating.

That is why she took Taehyung's "Nothing to see." And him walking away as nothing but a personal affront.

"Wait, young man! We have to talk about…"

But he was already gone and he was not turning back.

She was only one of the many teachers who were supposed to converse with the freshmen about their particular majors. She's told us about the different clubs. Where our first classes will most likely be, the names of the teachers that are always at our backing call and the most basic rules that applied to everybody, with no exceptions: No violence, no drugs, no smoking, and no drinking.

I wanted to laugh, but Park's face still looked like V had never left.

The four of us avoided most people on the way to the Cafe as if we had told each other to do that through telepathy.

We were the only quiet ones in the modern-looking place.

The black square tables, the many outlets, and the smell of cappuccino, pastries, and sandwiches were all perfect for studying. But everyone was either getting to know or avoiding freshmen altogether by playing loud music through their big earphones.

'Can't blame them, I guess. I wouldn't want to meet some full-of-life moron to let me know about his hopes and dreams when I'm studying my youth away,' I assumed while ordering a chamomile tea.

"You don't drink coffee?" Malek asked with a furrowed brow.

"No. I can't...aa, I can, but…I…don't like it." I lied.

"I bet you're going to start drinking it when you don't have any time to sleep. You don't like coffee either?" Park turned to an aloof Namjoon.

"I wish they had wine. But an americano will do."

We were slurping quietly, sat down on hard chairs until Namjoon broke the ice with the one question that no one should've asked.

"How long have you known him?"

Park held Namjoon's stare for a hot minute before he gave in and answered truthfully:

"Taehyung? Since…I was young. Younger. Like ten. My family's friends with his."

"That's why you are his? You were promised to him or something?"

"Namjoon…" I hit him with my elbow and smiled a small smile before apologizing in his stead.

But Park's eyes were focused on the americano before him as if the dark liquid was fascinating.

"I wasn't promised. I …promised him." He murmured, and then added louder with the saddest smile I've ever witnessed, "He was different when he was younger and then he just changed. Puff. Like dark magic."

He did a shy version of jazz hands, but the hurt remained obvious.

Malek looked more confused than all of us, squinting his eyes, sipping on something that looked more like sugar than coffee, saying: "No one changes for no reason. Something must've happened…"

"Drugs did." Namjoon stated.

Malek did not expect that. But Park wasn't surprised in the least.

"I think so too." He nodded, looking down.

"No. You don't think so. You know that," Namjoon concluded, tapping the table exactly twice.

'What?'

He went on when Park remained just as baffled as the rest of us.

"In the club. By the bathroom. He was injecting you with something. That was you. Wasn't it?"

"I don't remember seeing you before. But maybe…I won't deny that I've gone down the rabbit hole once or twice."

He was taken aback by it, yet kept smiling.

"So, what's your vice?"

I was itching to intervene because I wanted to make sure that Namjoon got along with his roommate. But I was hoping for one particular answer so all I ended up doing was staring. Mind blank. Silently hoping.

But all he let out was a dry, bitter, mouth-closed answer: "Why do you care?"

"There's no way he didn't tell you who I am. Or was."

"You guys need to chill," Malek suggested. But no one was calmer than Namjoon. Elbows up on the table, chin resting on a loose fist and voice as stable as the piano song playing in the background.

"No. We weren't hanging out. He caught me alone and then…wanted to join me. That's it. But I've quit since…"

"Then you've bought from him before?"

The smile that Park picked back up was slowly fading once more.

"This is…" Malek started, but Park cut him off, hitting the table with a weak fist. Getting our undivided attention.

"Hey. I am done with that shit. I've quit everything but weed. And even that, I don't do it often. Whatever speech you got coming up, I'm…"

"You can quit. Or not. It's all fine by me. It's your life. I'm not judging. I have no right to."

Namjoon shrugged and then leaned back. Like he got what he wanted the second Park leaned towards him, full of emotions.

He was trying to sound nonchalant about it. But I could spot it. Just like he could tell that my ass hurt every time I sat down, that he was disappointed. Disappointed with how small the world truly was. How out of all the students, he got the recovering addict. As if he could never escape them no matter where he went.

"Then, you too…?" Park implied.

Namjoon shrugged again and then grabbed my hand, and held it up by his head as if he was doing attendance.

"Him?" He asked, wide-eyed. Almost as if he couldn't believe it.

"Just like you. Well, he's mainly into grass. And I wish it'd stay that way if you get my drift."

"Got it. Don't worry. But why are you divulging his business to me? Isn't that his choice to…"

"Aaaa." I let out a choked sound, with no idea on how to continue without being misunderstood. "It's aa… fine. I don't mind. I wanted you to know that actually, since I am looking for it and all…"

"My guy's not here." Park deadpanned.

"What was his name? I might know him," Namjoon remained intrigued.

"Guys!" Malek was pale, holding his hands up just like V, but his expression was way more perturbed than Taehyung was with his neck in Namjoon's grip. "I see that the three of you have a lot in common, but the worst I've ever done was tequila and I'd rather not get in trouble. Since I worked hard to get here and all…"

"Don't worry, we're just talking."

'We're just talking.' The way Namjoon said it made me realize that I had the best drug wing-man I could've dreamed of. Since he was far more fearless than I was. Talking about drugs surrounded by freshmen, in a public place that had cameras. It sent shivers down my spine.

I would've waited until I got Park alone. Hanging onto any personal confession to make sure we're close enough to let him know about my personal stuff first.

But when Park looked away and Namjoon simply glared at Malek as if to say: Don't interrupt me with your boring fears; I relaxed.

"If you guys are only bonding, then it's cool. I guess." Malek whispered weakly under his breath.

"Do you know someone who has any? Like in here?" Park wanted to know.

'Why is he asking that? Didn't he quit?' I thought.

Namjoon looked at Park the way he used to look at me when I used to ask for weed days before our agreed due date.

"Not a soul. Sorry. But you said that you know someone who knows someone?" It was as if Namjoon's was reading my mind.

"I'm not sure if he was just bragging about that guy bringing some or knowing someone in the city. I don't know…I will look into it. You know, so we're not bored at parties and stuff..."

"Ok. So, what are you guy's majors?" Malek tried to switch the subject cheerily. But it came off nervous and forced.

Whatever they said next was drowned out by the screaming girl behind us.

"You foot-licking, cheating pillock!"

"Baby? Baby, where are you going?"

"Away from you! For the rest of my life!"

Water was spilled, a purse hit the guy's head, and then the doors were slammed.

And there was a brief but shared pause in everyone's conversations before they are resumed as if nothing had occurred.

"No one's normal, huh," Malek observed, sinking into his chair to the point that his whole face was not visible anymore.

"What's normal?" I blurted out without thinking.

I wished someone would've humored me with an answer. I wanted to know. But all I got was a wide, knowing smile from Park, a worried expression from Malek, and a light caress on the thigh from Namjoon.

We talked about our majors. And it turned out Malek was in for chemistry. Park was in literature like Namjoon and I. With a double major in arts.

Hence, I started wondering if the way we've been assigned roommates had anything to do with what our main pick was until Malek told us that his roommate was studying clinical psychology.

We walked around. Admired the greenery that hadn't died yet from the cold and got to know more basic things about one another. Park was letting me know how he wished he had a brother while I let him know that what kind of brother you get was far more important than having one at all.

He laughed easily. Smiled even easier. I felt somewhat safe around him.

Malek bragged about his older sisters and immediately revealed a picture of the two. A picture that he carried in his wallet because they wanted him to.

"It's like a girl version of you!" I pointed at one of the two to Namjoon, giggling.

"No, it's not!" Malek argued and then squinted his eyes at his own picture. "…is it?"

We exchanged numbers. And I was the one who requested it, since we got along better than I thought strangers should upon first meeting one another. And it was pleasant. So pleasant that I've nearly forgotten how tired I actually was. Forgotten that Namjoon, escorting me to my dorm room was not something that a guy would usually do for a guy friend. But they let us do our thing without pointing it out.

"I like them. Especially Park…or Jimin? He told me to call him Jimin. But it's weird. I've just met him."

"Don't like him too much." He suggested with a deep tone.

"Why not?"

"Cause I'll get jealous."

That had me stopping dead in my tracks to look around. But the hallway was surprisingly empty, except for two girls at the bottom of the stairs that we just passed by.

"You don't like it if I am jealous or should I just not tell you and…"

"Shh!" I whispered, peeking behind him.

"What shh? I'm not letting anyone think you're single for long," He smirked. I frowned.

"Namjoon. My parents. I did not tell them yet."

"There's no one here who'll tell them!"

"Besides Taehyung."

"He already knows! He would've told them a million times by now if he wanted to. Besides, I'll make sure he can't speak very soon."

"No! You'll pretend he's a ghost. And let him haunt this place and everyone else, but you simply don't believe in ghosts so you don't interact with them! No. You can't. He's invisible to you." I snapped.

"Why do you keep defending that asshole?" He argued, grinding his teeth.

"Because his father's a policeman! Or did you forget that little, tiny life-altering detail?"

"His father's not here. And his father can't do shit to me," The shrug and the smugness had me crossing my arms.

"And why not?"

"Because I'm taller than him."

I laughed at the surprising answer. He smiled.

All was well until two hands left the pockets to stop me from going in.

To whisper suggestively: "Come to the bathroom with me."

"No…Not…today. Too soon."

"But today's probably the cleanest it'll ever be." He whined.

And those hands traveled up to my cheeks.

"Namjoon, what if someone sees us?"

But he didn't answer. He only connected our lips and then breathed into my mouth. He kissed the end of my nose sweetly. And I could feel myself blushing from the tenderness.

'Stop it…this isn't like you.' I heard the thought passing by quietly.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You don't feel sick or anything?"

I shook my head.

And before I got to press him about it, my mouth was covered with his. Hands pulling me closer by the waist.

Our first kiss in the hallway of a university was gentler than our first kiss.

While we were avoiding to part consciously, without admitting it to each other, he started telling me that his building was way bigger than mine. Louder too. That there were people in the hallways because the hallways were wider too. But my building was the furthest one out of them all. And the smallest. It was like an abandoned cabin. Which was perfect.

That didn't ease my anxiety much when he turned around to leave after promising to keep up the pretend until someone catches us. Mainly because he thought it was impossible that somebody won't.

I could already feel the loneliness creeping up on me when I slid the key inside the door that didn't lead me to Namjoon, but further away from him.

'I don't have any weed. Until I find some, every day will…'

"Hi."

"Suck" I thought loudly."V?" I asked just to make sure I wasn't hallucinating.

"Yes?"

"What are you doing here?"

"In my room?" He inquired back with a smirk, dangling his feet back and forth on the edge of the bed mostly for effect since he could reach the wooden floor just fine.

"No." I stated.

"Yes."

"No!" I yelled.

"Ah, but yes!" He cheerily argued.

"No…."

"Shut the door, Jungkook. The radiator's finally doing something and it's been mildly warm for an hour."

"I…"

"Don't freak, I won't bite. If you don't," He joked. But I felt the tea spilling back into my throat. He went on, a bit annoyed: "Shut the door already. You're letting all the cold air in."

I got out the room and slammed the door, staring straight at his face for the entire time.

And called Namjoon who answered after two beeps.

"Jungkook?"

"Aa…how do I say this…"

"Say what? Did something happen? Do you feel ill?"

The door was opened, revealing an upset Taehyung.

"Man, does he have a tight leash on you. Do you have to lick his shoes clean before you go to sleep too?" He complained.

"Whose voice is that?"

"About that…my roommate…"

"Your roommate? What about him?"

"Aa…"

"Faster Jungkook. Do you want me to help you take off your shoes or something?"

The phone was gone from my hand but all I could do was stare, frozen in that spot.

"Monster, it's me. I am his roommate. I didn't do this, blame the higher-ups. I don't care about him. I am tired. So, don't come here. I want to sleep."

I could hear every word perfectly. Just as good as I could hear Namjoon's voice when he yelled: "I'll kill you!"

"Can you do it tomorrow though? I slept like five hours in the past two days."

"If you talk to him, touch a single hair…!"

"I won't. I already know the spiel. So, fuck off and nighty night."

Taehyung hung up and handed me the phone. Asking: "Are you going to sleep or not?" Before grabbing my hand and pulling me back inside the slightly warmer room.

I was watching him making his bed from my bed and I almost couldn't believe my eyes.

Namjoon didn't call back. I didn't call back.

The slender guy was getting cozy under his old blankets without minding that he was being stared at much. Until:

"Get your head out of the gutter, Jungkook. We've already talked about this."

I nodded weakly even though he had his back turned.

He fell asleep fast.

But all sleepiness was sucked out of me with every breath he expelled.

Half expecting Namjoon to come knocking on our door any minute now. But when he didn't, I was expecting myself to be more upset, rather than afraid that V will tell Namjoon that we've kissed.

Certain that no matter if he never found out, that the two of them, seeing each other more than one more time until the day that they will have died would turn out bad in some way. For all of us.

And yet, my body decided it was time for me to start feeling the withdrawal from weed and whatever had been in my water right then and there. Like a dam collapsed somewhere inside my nervous system. Or maybe it had started hours ago and I was too distracted to notice it.

Because after midnight came and passed, I was still wide awake and the only thing I cared to ask V, was: 'Do you have any drugs? Anything? I'll take…anything.'