i’ve decided to relocate my writing to @r3dmare including a rewrite of ‘a little bit’ because i’m not happy about some of the prior chapters. i finally feel ready to embrace the story again, and i’ve never gotten rid of my love for the story i created, so i hope you all still support it 🥺 i will be reposting the first chapter on @r3dmare soon !
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she thought after eleven months that she’d be used to the feeling.
the shaking, the sweating, the feeling that she was struck by fucking lightning and the need to get the fuck out. before the world went to shit, the most adrenaline she had felt was that one time chanyeol was fucking her in his car.
which was a very different feeling. a plethora of different feelings.
the screeches and clicks from the infected were worse than gunshots and the explosions that nearly deafened her. the clickers were terrifying, and the runners were almost worse- she hated to be chased.
the thought that in a split second- not even a moment of just losing focus, hesitating- she could become that… rotting from the outside in. with fungus creeping out of her pores… only having the motive to kill.
it wasn’t too far off from what she had to become when the infection hit- but she didn’t want to think about that.
hiding behind a half collapsed wall, she looked over to chanyeol, whose expression looked more sure, more confident than hers- maybe it was to keep her calm. he was good at that.
he motioned silently to her right- the clicker was just behind her, and flanking him from behind was her best option. he’d get the two runners. they were fast, and it always scared her when he took on anything, but he was faster than them. he’d be okay. she took a deep breath.
and she jumped over the wall, burying her knife in the thing’s neck before it had time to shriek.
chanyeol hit the first runner with his spiked bat with the ease of someone who had been doing it for years rather than months. she watched, raising her gun to bury a bullet in the other one’s head. she would have winced at the sound of metal impaling flesh and blood squelching from the wounds- but her mind was screaming go.
“fucking run,” she told him. they took off, guns raised in preparation- there were likely more infected, and they would’ve come running after the sound of the gunshot. she was an idiot, in retrospect.
hopefully, the other guys would have heard and circled back to meet with them.
hopefully, they weren’t already dead.
joohyun had sent five of them to stake out the warehouse ten miles out from the compound. their community wasn’t struggling as bad as they could be, given the circumstances, but they always needed food.
grab what you could, kill what charged you, look for survivors. it was a cycle that she fell into often… because she was good. very, very good.
at killing.
chanyeol had replaced yerim for their venture. he didn’t like y/n going on assignments without him- something she could relate to. that, and joohyun didn’t like yerim out much, either. she was handy with a gun, but very young.
“fuck!” chanyeol cursed, being grabbed suddenly by a runner that came out of nowhere. he flipped around and punched it, avoiding it’s gnashing teeth and flying spit. y/n surged forward, holding onto her boyfriend’s shoulder as she jumped to kick it across the face. the runner fell, and she pointed her pistol at his head, firing without thinking twice.
unfortunately, it brought a horde of five towards them.
runners were stupid, but shit were they fast. she and chanyeol shot one each at a distance before the others were there, at their throats, moaning, crying, and screeching.
“go!” she screamed, grabbing yeol’s hand and running towards the staircase of the old warehouse. they needed to get the fuck out and find the others. they descended to the second floor, jumping the last few steps. y/n shot over her shoulder, taking out one of the three.
the pair ran through a doorway and reached a ledge- knowing fully well that they reached a dead end.
with nothing but a quick nod at each other, they launched themself at the two infected, chanyeol utilizing his bat again, while she reached for her metal pipe. she ducked the curved around the runner with finesse, waiting to strike until she had a clear shot- and she nearly severed it’s head with the force of the blow.
yeol impaled the other with a shout of irritation, and the two were breathing heavily over the corpses.
“why,” he started, panting, and hanging his head down to catch his breath. “does nothing ever fucking go to plan?”
she exhaled, heart still hammering in her chest. she wanted to cry. “fuck if i know,” she responded, reaching for his hand. “but we’re okay. you’re okay.”
“so are you. and that’s what i care about,” he pressed her hand- dirtied and bloodied, but he didn’t care- to his lips.
he couldn’t lose her and she couldn’t lose him.
“god, i hope the others aren’t fucking dead.”
chanyeol grinned at her, still high off the rush. “sehun is stupid, but not that stupid. yixing is fast, and kyungsoo is there- none of them are dying today.”
they then began to walk through the doorway, making a beeline for the stairs… until they heard more clickers.
goddammit.
chanyeol turned, pulling her back to the upstairs, until they saw more coming from their direction. her lungs burned, running towards the only place the infected weren’t.
they were forced back to the ledge.
four clickers rushed them, and chanyeol immediately shot one through the neck. but the other three had surrounded a struggling y/n.
his y/n. and she was about to die.
he screamed, panic seizing his body and setting his brain on autopilot.
the clickers smelled of rotting flesh and she was able to stab one quickly in the neck as another knocked her gun out of her hands. two pairs of teeth were aimed for her, and she was armed with only her fists.
the next moment happened all too fast.
chanyeol ripped her away with enough force to dislocate her shoulder. the clicker barely missed biting her hand. she saw him throw something- a bomb- at the infected… and the air exploded.
they were flying, falling, and chanyeol had his body surrounding her, caging her in, and she could feel his heartbeat pressed against her jaw. she felt an impact, shards of glass slicing their arms, chanyeol throwing her from his body… then she hit the ground.
agony.
she heard the bone in her arm shatter, heard the echo of them hitting the ground, her head cracking against concrete…
… heard the noise of flesh being stabbed through.
and she heard chanyeol’s scream.
y/n’s vision was spotted with black, the adrenaline and shock not strong enough to shield her from the pain. she dragged her body, with one arm, towards his voice, his curses, his breathing.
her vision completely blacked out when she reached him and saw the rusty rod sticking out of his stomach.
“no,” she croaked, blinking until she could see him again. he was laying in a puddle of blood and dirty water. he had fallen on the rod. . “yeol?” she demanded. “open your fucking eyes, yeol, okay? fucking look at me.”
his round, brown eyes opened. his half-lidded gaze was fixed on her face. his y/n. his girlfriend of almost six years.
“y/n,” his voice was weak, it was wrong. “you need… go.”
she shook her head, pain searing through her skull as she did so. she didn’t care. he was hurt. he had been impaled.
his blood was seeping through her jeans.
“no,” she told him, ripping most of her tank top off to sop up the blood and apply pressure to the area.
“no, you killed the clickers, yeah? it’s okay, baby, it’s okay, yixing will be here, he’ll fix it, he’ll fix you, it’s okay, i promise, okay?” she was babbling through tears, holding his face with her broken hand and wiping his tears with her thumb, resisting the urge to cry harder at the pain.
“y/n, it hurts,” he moaned. “i’m dying,” he was choking down sobs. “i’m going to die before i had the chance to fucking marry you. i’m so sorry.”
her lip was quivering, and she tried not to scream. “stop it, okay, stop it!” she shouted at him, her tears dripping onto his chin. “you’re being mean,” she accused, through sobs. she was almost angry with him.
“you’re not going to save me and die, you promised we wouldn’t do this. you fucking promised me we wouldn’t go out without each other, you fucking asshole!” she felt like she was floating out of her own body. she saw the scene above her as it happened. a broken, powerless girl, in a sea of blood, crying over the universe itself. park chanyeol.
he laughed, weakly, wincing as he did so. there was so much love in his eyes… those stupid, expressive eyes she loved so much… those eyes that were brighter than the sun and stars combined.
“fuck, i need to pull you up, okay? i need to pull you up, chanyeol, okay?” her hands were shaking so much that she was barely able to push herself from the ground and grip his hand.
“no,” he told her, reaching a hand to her as she stumbled. “you can’t- fuck, goddammit!”
she pulled him up just enough to intensify his pain. his body sank back down the rod, and she crumbled to her feet, sobbing at the hurt in her arm, the hurt she had caused him, and the fact that she couldn’t get him out of there.
she looked around, processing their surroundings for the first time. they had fallen through the floor, they had broken through it, hitting a glass fixture, and were on the floor, plants growing through cracks in the concrete, and the scent of mold and blood hanging in the air.
“i love you,” chanyeol told her, barely whispering. “you’re alive… i love you.”
she screamed in his face, frustrated and crying, and he only smiled wider at her. his y/n. the reality was sinking in- he was about to die, and she couldn’t do shit. she was letting it happen.
“help!” she wailed, voice cracking with the volume. she didn’t care if she attracted more of the infected. if he was dying, she would have to as well. she shouted at the dark, screaming her voice raw. the others didn’t seem to be near.
“yixing! kyungsoo, sehun, fucking hell, help us, goddammit!”
“y/n?!” it was faint, and from the distance, but it was kyungsoo, and she sobbed, her own blood now completely saturating her body. her head was killing her, as was her arm, and chanyeol’s eyes were closing.
“open your fucking eyes, park chanyeol!” she was barely discernible through her tears. “it’s- it’s okay, yeol,” she failed to choke back a sob. “hey, look at me, look at me! yeah, see, it’ll be okay- it will, it will, yeol.”
“y/n, go,” chanyeol urged. he sounded so weak, and it was wrong. he was life. chanyeol, who never ran out of energy. chanyeol, who was strong in every way. chanyeol, who never, ever had the thought of giving up.
she ignored his plea.
“help us!” she cried. “please, oh my god, he’s dying!”
kyungsoo and yixing leapt down, sehun right behind them. relief flooded her, but drained from her almost instantly when she looked and saw how much blood her boyfriend was losing.
she turned and threw up, her body weak and in agony.
“what happened?!” sehun demanded, tears running down his face at the sight.
yixing was searching chanyeol’s wounds, cursing. kyungsoo grabbed y/n, examining her face.
“save him,” she pleaded, trying to push away and gather the strength to grasp chanyeol’s hand. “fucking save him, please, he can’t die, he can’t, okay?”
and when yixing looked up with her, with that expression on his face, she reached for her extra gun with shaky hands and attempted to point it towards her head.
it was always together, or not at all.
“no!” sehun yelled, knocking it from her hand.
“stop- don’t,” chanyeol was panicked. “guys, get out. get her out of here. keep her safe, please.”
“stop it, you fucking piece of shit!” she targeted yixing. “you’re the fucking medic, heal him! you aren’t trying hard enough, you fucking PRICK!”
there was a deafening clang behind a door she hadn’t seen, and a bloater stomped in, throwing the door across the room. but she didn’t register the onslaught of spores and the incoming attack. she would rather suffocate from the fungus, to be ripped limb from limb than to have a life without him.
“no!” she screeched. “no- chanyeol! you have to get up, please, baby, get up! i love you, get up!”
“y/n, he’s throwing spores, put your goddamn mask on!” she didn’t know who said it, who was wrestling her gas mask from her belt loop.
“i love you,” chanyeol whispered, reaching weakly to touch her face. he smiled… and then looked to kyungsoo. “please… do it.”
she thrashed against yixing- that’s who it was- when she realized kyungsoo was pointing his gun to chanyeol. sehun sent shots at the bloater.
she blew her voice out screaming when kyungsoo planted a bullet into chanyeol’s brain.
“YOU KILLED HIM!”
“y/n, he would have been killed by the bloater first! he couldn’t have made it either way!” yixing screamed back, wrestling her gas mask on just in time, and pulling her away while kyungsoo and sehun doused the bloater with their flamethrowers. the room was foggy with the dust from spores. she couldn’t see. she couldn’t feel.
the bloater roared as it burned, unable to fight back. the scent of burnt flesh pervaded the air.
“we need to get out,” kyungsoo rushed to yixing and tried to help yixing restrain y/n. her arm felt like it was about to explode, and her movement was growing sluggish, but she clawed their arms and fought as much as she was able to. the grief was consuming.
“sehun, get her!”
she barely registered the expression of pity on sehun’s tear-streaked face before he struck her forehead with the butt of his gun.
the first time mark lee realized that he might go to hell was when he was sixteen.
it was his first time using marijuana in johnny seo’s basement. johnny was a senior in high school and one of mark’s closest friends.
he didn’t coerce mark into smoking or anything- in fact, johnny was hesitant to even let him. but mark wanted to relax. he wanted to pretend he wasn’t mark lee.
his father was the town’s pastor. in the small suburban town, his family was known for their incredible kindness and values.
it wasn’t that mark didn’t appreciate his religion- he loved it and loved god. nothing would get in the way of that. he still prayed before eating, every night, and whenever he needed strength. it wasn’t necessarily his upbringing that inspired it; he had chosen his faith a long time ago because he was truly a believer. he never even really did anything terribly and obscenely wrong.
the hell theory was because he wasn’t good at being mark lee.
the truth was, mark liked smoking weed. like, immediately. it was never an addiction or anything- he smoked because it was fun. it helped him detach from his reality of having to be the poster child of a perfect son.
he also liked to party. a lot.
see, mark was a really good kid. kind, intelligent, caring, and talented. adults loved him. it wasn’t that his parents were horrible or that they made him scared of being himself or anything he just was kinda… bad with pressure. and he didn’t communicate well.
he was anxious a lot and wanted to be better than he was. the whole town knew him. he was lucky the people his age wouldn’t snitch on him for being at every shitty house party.
when mark graduated high school he was anxious. he absolutely didn’t want to go to college. at all. under any circumstances. he didn’t. want. to go.
the shitty bit was that he couldn’t do that to his parents. so, somehow he convinced them to let him start at community college. and he almost always showed up on his skateboard after hitting his dab pen in the parking lot.
mark didn’t know what he was meant to do on this planet. he never had a particular purpose or idea for how his life should go.
he liked to write, though. he had about 23 unfinished manuscripts he kept under his bed, and he never had the courage to take any out once they were there.
and as stupid as it sounds, he eventually went to soundcloud to rap.
he liked rap as a medium for expression. and he was good. really good. he amassed a large amount of followers in a short amount of time and he became something. someone.
mark had finally felt like he found his place.
the catch? he couldn’t tell his parents. at least, not while they were his financial support and he lived at home. he would go to his grave keeping that shit locked up. notebooks hidden, password protected everything. the kid didn’t even so much as listen to rap in the house.
he came to terms with the truth.
there were two mark lee’s- the good boy, and the rapping stoner. and thus began his cycle of deceit.
༄༄༄
i met him when we were both eighteen.
i was familiar with johnny seo and knew he threw the best parties in town. i met him when he took a picture of me smoking a cigarette for his portfolio and introduced himself. i liked him- he was cool, albeit more extroverted than i was used to.
i don't know how at twenty-one he was able to buy his own place. it wasn’t a shitty apartment either- he had his own little house. i guess his parents probably helped him out- a lot of people in that stupid suburbia had money. too much for a small town.
by age seventeen i was finally able to be diagnosed with adhd, depression, and anxiety, which was nice because it had all been fucking my life up for years.
my doctors wanted me tested for a mood disorder, but i never went to any other appointments.
i tried skipping town as soon as i graduated high school. somehow, my dad and stepmom loved me enough to bring me back home, to try to help me want to stay alive and function outside of getting high and taking so much xanax that my brain felt numb.
they were good people and i loved them a lot. but i fucking hated my mom with every fiber of my being.
when i was eight my mother decided she didn’t love us anymore and didn’t want to be a mother. she just left. walked out with suitcases while i was doing a puzzle on the floor. my dad cried for years.
when i was thirteen, he met mina and began to heal. it wasn’t necessarily healthy, because he never learned how to be happy alone. but i guess it worked for him.
but, yeah, all the stupid mental health shit was fucking me in the head. i didn’t even have any actual trauma from when i was young- except maybe my mom- so explain to me why that shit was happening.
so, yeah, i needed to escape my life. and i wasn’t tempted to off myself or anything, so i decided to just leave.
i think my parents felt like they lost me a little bit after my first stint in homelessness, so they packed up their lives, me, and my little half-brother and moved us away to the suburbs. i still kept leaving. i was barely home.
and i don’t think they know how to deal with it.
anyway, i decided to go to one of johnny’s disgusting house parties. although the thought of it made my stomach twist up on the inside, it was better than festering in my room alone. the anxiety was shit.
i didn’t really know how to do makeup. i just rubbed glitter around my eyes and decided that was enough. my outfit was one i lifted from another party. i couldn’t even use the klepto thing- because i’m not. i just liked taking things and i didn’t feel bad about it because i had already resigned myself to the fact that i’m a shit person.
if i ever wanted to change, it wouldn’t be for myself- so what was the point?
all i fucking knew, as i rode my bike to johnny’s, was that i wanted to get high. i had just barely gotten out of a two week long depression, so i allowed myself to be excited about drugs.
to clarify, i wasn’t an addict and didn’t want to be. i smoked weed and took xannies. sometimes adderall. but, on the other hand, getting high was good for the nerves.
when i got to johnny’s, the place was already in full swing. i shoved my bike into a bush and walked inside. i had business to attend to.
the party reeked of booze, sweat, and weed. it was a mass of dancing people, colored lights, and loud music.
parties were fucking disgusting to me. actually gross. but they gave me what i want, so it was a bittersweet type of thing.
after a little bit of searching, i found who i had been looking for- nakamoto yuta.
as usual, he was in the basement with sooyoung attached to him. ten was giving tattoos next to them, and his tip jar was full to the brim, which i knew he was happy about.
honestly, yuta, and ten, for that matter, were two of the closest people to me, but i don’t remember much of how it became that way.
ten noticed me standing at the wall across the room, staring at him as he finished a tattoo.
“excuse me, miss,” he said to the next in line and elbowing yuta to grab his attention. “but my-“ he checked his phone. “-10:36 appointment is here.”
i chuckled. i was glad he was in the mood to let me cut to the front of the line.
“you haven’t been around in a while,” he said, rubbing on hand sanitizer, donning new gloves, and setting up a new needle for the customer behind me. sooyoung hugged me, and yuta ruffled my hair.
“been in my bed for two weeks,” i replied.
yuta hummed, playing with his girlfriend’s hads. “i take it you’re better now?”
that’s something i liked about yuta. he didn’t needlessly worry.
“better enough to ask a favor.”
ten laughed. yuta cracked a smile. “guest room upstairs. hotbox room. just tell johnny that i’m spotting you- should be some boof and a pill that’s safe- but you’ll get mad trips.”
i grinned at the prospect of something new. “thanks, man.”
“anytime, bro.”
i could smell the room before i got to it. it was stronger than the smell i’d encountered when i got in. again, i wondered how the absolute fuck johnny never got busted.
“- and dude, i was, like, so high, it was crazy, man!”
that’s the first thing i ever heard mark lee say.
i saw johnny next to him and grinned, crossing the room. “yuta’s spotting me,” i stated, plopping down on the bean bag next to him.
the room only had seven people in it, me included. i recognized jung jaehyun, with two girls he was talking up.
“he always does,” johnny rolled his eyes good naturedly, tossed me a baggie, and then gave me a joint he had previously rolled.
“fuck,” i murmured, lighting the shit up as quick as i could. it had been around three weeks since i was able to spark up and, fuck, did i want it.
“by the way,” johnny began, minutes later. “this mark. he’s a great friend of mine.”
i introduced myself and nodded. he smiled back and i almost couldn’t look away. he was extraordinarily beautiful. i don’t know if it was the high- the shit was pretty good, hit fast, and i was used to dirt weed- but i felt it. that magnetic draw.
the room was bathed in blue lights and it made the experience all the more dreamy. i laughed along with johnny’s jokes and hummed to the music in the room from the speaker. it did little to block out the music booming downstairs, but it was enough.
mark’s vape clouds made the room foggy. i liked it. he passed it to johnny and he hit it, making smoke rings.
“want it?” he asked.
i smiled. “shotgun. it’s more fun that way,” man, i must have been high. sober, anxious me wouldn’t have done it.
johnny took his hit and leaned in, lips barely grazing mine and i blew the smoke out, giggling. mark was, too.
“if you wanted to kiss me, you could’ve asked,” johnny flirted with a stupid wink.
i crinkled my face. “nah, not you. sometimes i think i’m gonna catch something just from looking at you.”
johnny looked mock offended, and i snuggled deeper into the bean bag, taken away by my thoughts.
“yo, what time is it?” mark asked johnny, a few minutes later, snapping me from my thoughts. it was hard not to listen to his voice, to be taken away by the sound and the look of his smile. i felt good and my brain was moving slower.
“11:15,” johnny responded. mark’s eyes lit up.
“dude, i’m performing at 11:30 right?” he was having a great time, i could tell. the enthusiasm was contagious.
“oh yeah!” johnny exclaimed, and the two stood up. johnny tapped my shoulder.
“wanna come watch mark with me? he’s gonna rap.”
i looked at mark. his eyes were wide, earnest, wanting me to come along. the kid didn’t have rapper energy, but fuck it. i wanted to follow.
“aight,” i agreed, standing. it felt fun and calm and pretty. that’s one of the things i liked about weed- it just made shit silly and fun.
and, curiosity had taken me. i wanted to see if the magnetic, pretty boy, who vaped and was stoned as hell, had bars.
༄༄༄
i had no doubt in my mind, after that night, that mark lee was incredibly talented.
his energy was strong; it drew people in. the crowd was dancing and cheering the entire time. he had a pretty good flow, too. his duality was crazy.
after he performed a few songs he wrote, i caught up with him outside.
“yo, you were good as fuck,” i told him and he grinned.
“thanks, dude. i’m glad you liked it,” he took a drag off his joint, and i lit up a cigarette.
“want one?” i offered. he took the cigarette and lit it up with the lighter i passed to him. he looked funny with a cig in one hand, a joint in the other.
“i don’t normally smoke cigs as much as i vape,” he confessed. “and i’m honestly, like, having a really great high. i’ve got visuals.”
i smiled. “like colors vibrant and stuff?”
he nodded, smiling. “i love weed,” he mumbled, mostly to himself. his smile fell.
“i get it,” i replied, sliding down the side of the house to sit on the grass. it was cool and dewy, contrasting the summery weather.
mark followed suit.
“y’know, i hate parties,” i said, after a moment of comfortable silence.
he looked over. “why?” he inquired. there was a hint of shock to his voice.
i laughed. “i mean, it’s hypocritical of me to say because i go to a lot of them,” i paused, taking a drag of my cig. “it’s ‘cause i’ve got mad anxiety. i shake constantly when i’m near people- see?” i held out my hand, quivering noticeably.
“shit, dude,” mark replied. “that’s crazy.”
his tone sounded like he felt bad, but didn’t know what to say.
“sorry,” i apologized, quickly embarrassed. “i tend to overshare.”
mark laughed. “it’s alright. i tend to undershare. we can balance each other out.”
and for a few hours, mark lee and i talked. got to know each other.
we were laying on the grass, looking up at the sky. i liked it a lot. mark had this pull to him. i couldn’t get enough.
“are you staying at johnny’s tonight?” i asked.
“mmmm, maybe,” mark responded. “don’t really wanna go home- especially stoned. you know my parents.”
i furrowed my brow, turned, and leaned on my elbow, looking at mark.
“am i supposed to? i moved here less than a year ago and really only talk to yuta, johnny, and my neighbors.”
mark copied my posture. his mouth was slightly agape.
“uh,” he started. “my dad’s, like, the town pastor. everyone knows my family, so… i don’t really talk about it, but it sucks when you’re like me.”
i nodded, a soft smile on my face. “hey, we’ve all got our shit. you don’t have to get into it. i’m sorry, though.”
the party seemed to be winding down slightly but mark and i just laid on the grass, in comfortable silence. the high had since worn off and i noticed that his eyes grew sadder the more sober he became.
“i should get going,” i muttered. i always felt uncomfortable when i was out too long, but my skin was crawling in a way that was nearly impossible to not hyperfixate on.
“oh, aight,” he said, standing up. i followed. “uh, where’s your car? i’ll walk you,” mark offered.
i shook my head. “i rode my bike here. it’s in a bush in front of the house.”
mark’s brow creased. “it’s too dangerous for you to go alone.”
i chuckled. “ive been taking care of myself for a while, mark.”
“nope,” mark replied, popping the ‘p’. “lemme grab my board and i’ll go with you. and a joint.”
he left me alone before i could protest, and i tugged my bike out of the bush. i didn’t know why i was smiling.
i debated leaving without him, but it didn’t feel right for me to do that. i also wanted to see him skateboard. strangely, it fit.
the ride home was fun as fuck. mark did tricks on his board that were pretty average, but he laughed every time he did them. he had an amazing laugh.
i tried a few things on my bike, and fell off more times than i liked to admit, much to the concern of mark.
“you always skate?” i asked. at least he was a rapper. he wouldn’t make the best skater.
“yeah, i don’t drive,” mark replied, laughing. “my parents are pretty pissed about it, but i just… don’t drive. never got my license.”
“i can drive,” i smiled. “alone, with the permit i hardly got, but i never get pulled over.”
“isn’t that illegal?”
i laughed. “no more illegal that smoking weed and underage drinking, mark.”
i really did like his laugh.
he rapped as he went, taking drags of the joint he held.
“you would like my friends,” mark blurted, suddenly. “you really would.”
i arched an eyebrow. “you seem sure of yourself. i talk to a handful of people, remember.”
“no,” he moved closer to my bike. “they’re cool. you’d like them. especially renjun, i think.”
he then began talking about his other friends- younger than johnny and the other guys, but just as close to him.
“- jaemin would try to flirt with you though. he flirts with everyone, especially pretty girls.”
he didn’t seem to realize what he’d said, so i decided to tease him.
“awwh, you think i’m pretty? no wonder you’re taking me home! down, boy,” i joked.
“w-what? no! i was just-,” he made a few babbling excuses.
“take me to dinner first, mark,” i continued. “those rumors about church boys really are true!”
he stammered some more before i laughed, assuring him it was a joke. he started smiling again.
i mulled over the things he told me. how he loved to write, his friends and how much he loved them, his favorite color- blue-, how much he wanted pizza, our argument about the fact that i didn’t like cheese, and his apologies for opening up about his writing, his complaints about the town, and how just about everything he told me that was more than surface level.
i remembered his face when he talked about his family.
mark lee was sad, i realized.
but misery does love its company.
at some point, we traded and i was on his board. i was always shit at skating, and i almost broke the board, but i rationalized that he deserved it for doing better bike tricks than me. even though it wasn’t saying much.
“that’s gonna get you a girlfriend for sure,” i told him, after his wheelie.
“how do you know i don’t have a girlfriend?!”
i clicked my tongue. “biggest virgin energy i’ve ever felt.”
“YAH,” he exclaimed, in mock anger. i smiled.
“does it ever get lonely?” mark asked, out of the blue.
i creased my brow. “what?”
“you said you only talk to a few people.”
i hummed. “sometimes… but i’m okay with it. i didn’t exactly have the best upbringing, and sometimes it’s easier.”
mark was quiet. we were just getting to my house.
“so you only talk to johnny and yuta? you don’t have, like, girl friends or, uh, a significant other?”
i smirked. “no, i don’t. i’ve only been here for, like, half a year. but i’ve always liked to be alone.”
“well,” mark paused. “we could be friends?” it came out as a question.
i took my phone out of my pocket and handed it to him.
“put your number in,” i told him, and he handed me his phone too.
i giggled at how he entered his name.
mark lee :)
we said goodbye, with nods and small smiles. i watched him ride off on his board, and kept fucking smiling.
༄༄༄
soon, i was laid back in bed. i wanted more weed, but i was tired. i checked my phone, scrolling through texts from old friends and some new ones that i was going to ignore.
the most recent one, though, i looked at.
from: mark lee :)
hey i hope ur good! we should hang nd smoke sometime soon
to: mark lee
aight bet. you can come over whenever. i’ll smoke u out :)
from: mark lee
not gonna happen haha
i texted him until the sun rose and then was aware of the time. i smiled, plugging in my phone and snuggling into my sheets.
mark lee was interesting, i decided. perhaps more intriguing than any other person i had ever met.
sleep took me quickly, with the last conscious thought in my head being his laugh.
the doctor, your johnny, walked funnily around the tardis’ console… he was smiling, but it seemed to be for your benefit.
“johnny? what’s going on?” you were frightened- not for the first time in your travels with the doctor, but this fright was new. you’d been frightened for him before, of course, but this fright was for him, and… of him.
“johnny… i always liked that name ever since you gave it, you know that? ever since you gave it!” he grinned. “it fit this face.”
you felt small, hugging your arms tightly around yourself.
this face. he said this face, which meant… oh no.
“doctor… i don’t like this. tell me it isn’t happening.”
“what happens if you die, doctor?”
he was faced away from you, fiddling with the console, but he froze. his back was tensed.
the pair of you had just returned from a freezing planet overrun with invisible beasts that slowly were picking off the residents of a small village. you were there for weeks. when things took a turn for the worst, your extremities had begun to turn blue.
you were swaddled in blankets that the doctor had wrapped you in, himself. he had been panicked, terrified, mumbling to himself that you’d be okay. despite the fact that you two hadn’t known each other for a few months, the doctor was fond of you. very, very fond of you.
“i don’t… die,” he said, slowly, as if easing you into the oncoming explanation, back still turned.
you leaned forward, grasping the mug of scalding tea in your hands.
“you don’t?”
“no, not in the way humans would. not in the way you would.”
“you’re confusing me again,” you admitted.
he turned, smiling warmly, but you knew he was being evasive. “why are you asking me this?”
you bit your lip, avoiding his gaze.
“i was scared. that- that thing-!”
“the lovan,” he corrected.
“yes, the lovan. sorry. just… it was… about to hurt you, to kill you. and i’ve been scared before, that you’d get too hurt to keep on. but i don’t know if you can? i mean, maybe you have two lives? like a cat?” you were rambling, but he smiled, amused.
“like a cat?”
you nodded. “yeah, y’know, because they say cats have nine lives.”
“i met a cat with nine lives once…”
he was becoming distracted, so you continued. “i just mean that maybe since you have two hearts, can you die twice? ugh, i sound stupid.”
he chuckled, leaning down to become eye level with you. he was so damn tall.
“i don’t have two lives… i have twelve, actually!” he exclaimed, standing and running around to flip a lever on the console.
this left you more confused than before.
you opened your mouth to speak, but closed it as the doctor continued, running around the console like mad.
“timelords have a special sort of defense in case a body is damaged badly. we regenerate into another body, another form. the thing about it,” he paused, tapping his fingers, thinking. “it’s a new body, as well as a new personality. like a whole different person, but i’m still me.”
“that doesn’t make sense,” you mumbled, suddenly concerned. you shivered, and you knew it wasn’t from the cold that had somehow been clinging to your body for hours.
he looked over, his brow creased. “don’t worry, y/n. i don’t plan on regenerating anytime soon! i quite like this face, don’t you?”
you ignored him, lost in thought.
the doctor took his usual long strides over, once again crouching to your level.
“what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”
under other circumstances, you would have blushed. the doctor was a flirt, and it took more effort than you’d like not to fall for it, fall for him.
but you were worried.
“i don’t want you to die,” you whispered, finally having the courage to meet his eyes. those old, old, sad eyes, set in his young face.
“i just told you, silly, we don’t die.”
“you know what i mean,” you grumbled, pulling your knees to your chin. “i just…,” you knew it was always easier to not keep secrets with the doctor, though he seemed bent on keeping some from you.
but you supposed every relationship had its negatives.
“i don’t want to be the reason you… regenerate,” you said the words carefully, eyes trained on your knees. “johnny,” your little nickname for him was starting to stick. “your life isn’t expendable. you save lives! you, save planets! i know i help, but i’m just… me. important, i know, you’ve shown me that… but i’m not... you.”
suddenly you felt his warm hand grab your chin. he smiled, his eyes equally warm, though swimming with the familiar sadness. how many times has he heard that, you wondered. enough to know it was true, surely.
“not to me,” was his simple reply. and quicker than wind, he was up again.
“i know a very peaceful planet we could visit! nothing but meadows and a nice breeze- after we finish getting you warmed up, anyway! what do you say?”
smiling, despite yourself, you nodded. a silent promise rang through your head.
‘whatever it takes, i won’t be the reason.’
and there you were, the reason on legs.
as johnny spasmed with pain, it fully hit you, just as the dalek he saved you from hit him with its’ beam.
“no,” you whispered, walking towards him, feeling dazed. “doctor, please-!”
“call me johnny,” he told you, sternly. “for my last few minutes with this face, i want to be your johnny.”
“no!” you shouted, tears stinging at your eyes. “you can’t! it’s my fault, i promised it wouldn’t be my fault!” it was selfish to say, and even more selfish that you didn’t want him to change. he would still be alive, still be him, he had said.
but he wouldn’t be.
“i’ll still be me,” he assured you, as if reading your mind, trapping your wrists in his hands, steadying them. you were shaking, scared out of your wits. “let me look at you… we really don’t have much time left… thank god we’re landed this time, though, eh?”
“stop it, please…” you intended it to be a scream, but you couldn’t do more than shakily whisper. “please,” you begged. “don’t change.”
“you’ll remember our adventures,” he smiled, suddenly seeming oblivious to your pain. “and you’ll make new ones too, with whoever comes out. i doubt he’ll want you to leave, y/n, you incredible thing. always brave, always smart… my y/n. you’re a gem.”
you could see the sincerity and compassion in his eyes and you could hear it in his voice, clear as day. because you knew him as well as you could, as well as he let you. he was your doctor. though he belonged to the stars and all of time in space, he was still your’s. your johnny. who you loved. fiercely and purely.
he suddenly backed away, releasing your hands, spasming again with a gold light.
“doctor!”
“johnny!” he exclaimed back. “this is johnny. and don’t come near,” he warned. “i work hard to keep you safe, healthy, and whole… i don’t want any regeneration energy to ruin you.”
it was quiet enough for a pin to drop.
“johnny-,” you broke the silence, trying to think of something, anything, to say. you knew the end was near, for him.
he shushed you, once again walking closer. he cupped your face.
“i know.”
you smiled, sadly. he did know. and so did you.
“promise me something, and don’t frown, i want to see that smile,” he said, tapping your nose. “promise you’ll help him. help me. be there.”
the tears were flowing freely now, and you nodded, trying to smile, not trusting yourself to speak.
“it’s coming now… goodbye, y/n.”
with that, his face and hands exploded with beams of gold light, forcing you to look away, hands covering your eyes, becoming wet with the tears and sobs escaping you. you wailed, unable to stop the pain. you wanted it to stop. you wanted him to be joking with you.
you wanted johnny.
suddenly, the sound of your tears was echoing through the tardis, the noise of the doctor’s regeneration having ceased.
sniffling, you uncovered your eyes to be met with a man, stood in a suit much too long for him, staring at you.
you felt very faint all of a sudden, looking at his wide smile and long blonde hair. his ears were pierced to hell, and his eyes had a mischievous glint. he was staring at you in a way that made you feel scared. exposed.
his hands flew to his hair and he laughed, loudly.
“it’s long! it’s fluffy!” he stumbled forward, towards you, but in a way a child learning to walk would.
“legs are shorter,” he mused. now he seemed to be looking through you rather than at you. “this is-!”
you were then taken aback by the stranger passing out and crumpling to the floor.
VENMO: nbfem // CASHAPP: $pinkfem (gofundme later, if necessary)
hi friends, i hate to do this but my family is having an awful day – our house literally fucking burned down and we lost almost everything, including our dog. i’m heartbroken and devastated. i can’t stop crying. what wasn’t lost is now considered a biohazard and has to be either destroyed or deep cleaned, which just won’t work for things like my medication (which i will go into withdrawal without), burned phones, laptops, etc. almost all of our heirlooms, clothes, savings, etc are gone. just gone.
the cost to replace our necessities (clothes. shoes. etc) on top of medical fees (all 6 of us have to go to the hospital due to the amount of smoke and debris we breathed in) is overwhelming and it would be so very appreciated if anyone could help, whether financially or even through praying for us if that’s something you do. sorry this is so frazzled. i’m in shock and very very sad.
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hi guys im now working two jobs and doing school (college is hard)
but i’m working back in the school again with all my elementary babies. we’re staying safe and so are the kids, but i’m so happy now. i mean, i’m exhausted and hate my other job, but i’m happy.
maybe i’ll come back. i know i’m awful and just disappear and abandon some works, but my brain is mean to me a lot and idk it’s just rough. i write on my other blogs more because i have more inspiration there.
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mount everest, mark lee | three | icarus and chlorine
t/w: mentions of drugs, mature themes, mentions of sex, detailed depressive episodes, forgetting to eat/hunger, toxic relationships, infidelity, mention of suicidal thoughts (not with intent, read w caution)
PLEASE DO NOT READ if you’re triggered by illicit substances, mental illness, highly depressive episodes, or anything listed above! please don’t put yourself in a position of being uncomfortable 🤍
I HAVE REMOVED THE MAIN CHARACTER’S CONTAMINATION OCD TO MAKE OTHER STORY ELEMENTS EASIER
a/n: this series is HEAVILY inspired by euphoria. the music i recommend, certain events, phrasing, (a few lines i use. FEW) etc. im not plagiarizing i dont fuck w that!! first person pov is used because im using rue-style narration!
{ taglist: @badwithten @neocrush @marks-aurora @marklexleaf @nctream } lmk if u wanna join or if i forgot u
nakamoto yuta hated his girlfriend.
and she hated him back.
it might have been codependency keeping them together, or the sporadic feelings between them. they both knew it was a shit way to keep going on, but they did.
sooyoung was as fucking perfect as he could get, he figured. she was nice to his friends, she was affectionate and bright, and he loved the way she carried herself.
he doesn’t remember when they fell apart, but he remembers when he realized she was fucking other guys.
it wasn’t a big deal to him, for some reason. he even had a few hookups, despite feeling guilty afterwards. it became their normal, even though it wasn’t healthy.
so he kept on loving her, alongside beginning to hate her.
it was unspoken, but she felt the same. the love, the hate, the sex, the cheating, the ‘i love you’s and the arguments.
yuta just couldn’t imagine breaking up with her. ever. his friends began to just ignore it and let him be. they didn’t necessarily hate sooyoung, they thought she was kind and, at one point, good for yuta.
sooyoung was a sweet girl, she had a good soul, but she could be a bitch sometimes. i never thought cheating was right, especially to someone as good as yuta.
but yuta was also a shit sometimes.
in his mind, they deserved each other. and maybe they did, who am i to say?
they don’t feel like they’ve fallen out of love when their bodies were intertwined and their lips couldn’t separate from each other’s. it never felt different when they were cuddled up together.
yet, the hate was still there.
yuta had a good amount of ambition for someone like him. he made a good amount of money tattooing, piercing, and selling some of the weed he got from johnny. he worked at walmart and stocked shelves and somehow was still employed even though he was a shitty worker.
yuta didn’t have the same ambition that other people did, but he had enough to get by. he couldn’t see past the present anymore, especially when sooyoung had taken a chunk of his future the moment she decided to sleep with sungjae, but he made peace with it.
honestly, yuta felt like he was stumbling through life. but he had his friends, he had soo, and he had booze, so he figured he wasn’t in deep shit.
it’s like he told mark, if you’re going to hell, might as well have fun before you burn.
my depression is ugly.
it was the fourth day i was in my bed. i had gotten up to pee a total of six times in that period. i had drank three bottles of water and two bowls of cereal.
and i hadn’t showered since i entered the episode, which was kind of super unhealthy but depression made my skin numb.
i decided i needed more cereal and paused the documentary my laptop.
my mind flashed to mark as i stood up. i hadn’t talked to him since day two when my phone died. my laptop was already plugged in and i didn’t feel like reaching for my phone charger.
i realized i was kind of weak from not eating or drinking much, so i gripped the counter a little too tightly as i poured the milk in the bowl, staring intently as the cereal rose from the milk.
i closed my eyes and laid my head on the counter after putting the milk away. i felt like dog shit. i wanted drugs.
a sharp knock on the door startled me. i sighed, straightening myself and walking to the door. i was in a tee and underwear, but i was beyond the point of giving a fuck.
i opened the door... and i was blinded.
mark’s eyes were worried, a crease between his brow. i barely registered johnny and yuta behind him, because mark took all of my attention.
i was icarus, and he was the sun.
i felt a rush of serotonin flood through my veins, starting at my heart and making its way to my brain. i had missed him.
“nice outfit,” johnny laughed, passing mark to make his way in.
yuta followed. “you look like shit,” he called back.
mark continued to stare at me, and i tilted my head, still entranced by his presence. i was beginning to be really codependent, but i pushed the thought back so i wouldn’t have to deal with it.
“you haven’t been answering your phone,” he stated. “johnny and yuta said you get like this?”
instead of answering, i beckoned him inside, taking him to my room. johnny and yuta were watching the shitty t.v. and on my couch, eating my doritos.
i left the door cracked and laid back on my bed, exhausted.
“come here,” i mumbled, scooting to make room for mark. he laid down, staring at me.
“i was worried,” he said.
“my phone died.”
it was quiet for awhile until mark cleared his throat, moving a bit away. i saw his eyes drift down to my lack of pants and understood. he was a modest guy, sometimes.
“i’m sorry,” i apologized. “it gets like this sometimes.”
“i was afraid,” he whispered.
“don’t be.”
we got close again and laid under the blankets, my head on his chest, and i wondered when he was gotten to this level of closeness. it seemed natural.
heaven.
nakamoto fucking yuta.
i was coerced into going to another stupid party by said shithead with the same stupid fuckers who were at every party. i didn’t even know whose house it was.
it was nice that mark was by my side, though.
leaving my place was hard, especially because i wasn’t fully out of my episode, but if i completely didn’t want to go, i wouldn’t have said yes.
so there i was, dressed acceptably, hair in a knot on my head, and smoking a cigarette. mark had walked off to get a drink, leaving me with yuta and joy.
i had excused myself to the bathroom just a second later, putting the cigarette out on the floor, a tiny bag clutched in my hand.
my nose burned when i got out, and i made sure i cleaned the tiny dots of white powder off of the edge of the sink.
“you’re a dumbass,” yuta scolded me, sooyoung by his side. they seemed to be in love at the moment.
“mmm?”
“you look way too happy... and i saw the baggie you had earlier.”
“at least she’s smiling,” sooyoung reminded him. yuta ignored her.
well, sooyoung seemed to be in love at the moment.
mark emerged from the crowd, hitting his pen. he seemed to be going light that evening, with only a water bottle in hand.
i grinned wildly, running to mark and throwing myself into his arms. he hugged me back, laughing as he pulled me away.
“you seem to be in a better mood?”
“she did a line,” yuta replied, flatly.
mark’s eyes flashed with concern. “you what?”
i rolled my eyes, nuzzling into mark’s side. “can you just hold me and stop worrying?” i heard his breath hitch.
“you’re shaking like a fucking leaf,” mark told me, pulling me closer anyway. “stay with me for the rest of the night, okay?”
i smiled, nodding, and then grabbing his hand. “i want a drink!”
yuta sighed, putting an arm out to stop me. at that point, sooyoung also looked concerned.
“maybe you should stop there, honey,” she said, smoothing the top of my hair.
ignoring her, i let go of mark’s hand and bolted, pushing past people as i ran.
i heard mark call my name and knew he was pursuing me. i looked back, seeing how far he was, before bumping into someone.
he was tall, with one of the most beautiful faces i had ever seen. full lips, beautiful chocolate eyes, and perfectly messy hair. he reached his arms out- they looked very muscular in his sleeveless shirt- to steady me.
“woah, are you okay?” he asked, in a deep voice.
“yeah, sorry, i was just trying to get a drink,” i explained.
the man grinned, lopsided and cute. “i was about to, as well.”
before i could answer, i heard mark call my name again, and suddenly he was behind me. the stranger’s face changed. his eyes became a lot harder, and i found it difficult to place the expression in that state.
“you said you’d stay with me toni- wait, lucas?” he cut himself off, staring at the man who still had a hand on my shoulder. i looked between the two of them, curiously.
“mark,” he stated, appraising him. “didn’t know you’d be here.”
“wow, it’s good to see you, man!” he seemed genuinely happy. i smiled wide, happy at his joy.
“is this your girl?” lucas asked, eyes flicking to me.
“uh- she’s my friend?” mark said, awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.
well, he wasn’t wrong.
lucas smiled. “sweet. so would you mind if i asked her to get a drink with me?” he looked down at me, an eyebrow arched.
“uh, dude, she’s kind of blasted right now. i think i should stay with her.” mark’s brow was furrowed.
lucas frowned, the hard look still in his eyes. he said my name, and i liked the way it sounded in his deep voice.
“i’ll see you around sometime? i’d love to get to know you better.”
i felt shy all of a sudden. “yeah, that’d be nice,” i mumbled, but loud enough for him to hear.
“dope. bye, cutie,” he paused. “mark.”
then he was gone, making his way through the crowd.
i had a lot of questions but didn’t feel like asking them at the moment.
mark and i were in a quieter room, with only a few people sitting around, talking and smoking. my head was in mark’s lap, and he was just staring at me.
“mark,” i murmured, reaching up to caress his face.
he hummed in response, still staring.
“i want to be up and doing shit right now but looking at your face is my favorite thing.”
he laughed, albeit awkwardly. “you don’t mean that.”
my brow furrowed. “yes i do. you’re my favorite. i want to spend time with you.”
he smiled sadly at me and said nothing.
suddenly, i had an idea and sprang up, running out of the room before mark could stop me.
he called my name again, sounding upset, and ran after me.
i was quick, going to the kitchen and pouring a huge cup of tequila that i downed in a matter of seconds, making those around me cheer. despite the taste, i downed another half cup- vodka this time-, then exited the room quickly and went outside.
i saw johnny and ran over, smiling. i threw my arms around his neck, looking happily at him.
“i haven’t seen you tonight!” i exclaimed. “oh, hi, jae!” i greeted johnny’s friend, who grinned at me with his dimpled smile.
“what are you on right now? i smell alcohol.”
“i did a line, too. you need to help me hide from mark, he’s trying to keep me from having fun!”
johnny laughed. “well, mark’s being smart, you’re being dumb.”
“and here i was wanting to spend my night with you,” i pouted.
johnny smirked. “if you wanted to sleep over, honey, all you had to do was ask.”
i knew he was joking, especially because he wasn’t a weirdo and didn’t mess with inebriated girls, but i couldn’t keep my mouth shut.
“tequila makes me horny,” i stated, swaying as i detached myself from johnny, turning away and walking towards the pool.
“um,” johnny replied, but it sounded blurry in my ears. i wanted to dip my feet in the pool. it was hot.
suddenly i heard mark’s voice again. it sounded like the sun and stars were singing to me, taking my breath away.
fuck, he was amazing.
“tequila makes her horny, apparently,” i heard johnny tell him, making me laugh.
“why did you let her get anywhere near a pool? she could fall in,” mark sounded stressed and i frowned.
“maaaark,” i said, in a singsong voice, looking over my shoulder. “i wouldn’t fall in. i just wanted to swim- i mean, put my feet in. it’s really hot.”
mark walked over, sitting by my side.
“you’re not acting okay,” mark mused, searching my face. “you can’t use these things to make you happy.”
“but mark, you do that all the time,” i was confused.
he ran a hand through his hair. it looked soft. “that- that’s just weed. like, i don’t do lines and try to drink the feelings away. it’s bad for you, dude, it’s scary. you’re shaking and slurring your words.”
i didn’t notice- in fact, i thought my voice sounded clear.
“i’m okayyy, mark,” i poked his chin. “let’s swim!”
i let my body go limp and fell face first into the pool.
“fuck, shit,” he cursed, as i quickly emerged from the chlorinated water. “we need to take you back to your place. johnny- can you drive us? jae? who’s sober?”
“mark, where is that guy? lucas? he seemed like he liked me. he has nice lips and i think he would kiss me because you won’t.”
mark’s neck snapped back to me so quickly that i flinched.
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