ā @feelingsaturated . . . !
tw mentions of substance use, falling down stairs
itās 4am and the lightās flickering. buzzing, really, a grating sound on seonjaeās ears as his leather gloves slide over another page of the magazine heās not really reading. heās got one earbud in, playing something mindless to try and drown out the noiseā heād told his boss, over a hastily scrawled note stuck to the cash register earlier that week, to please fucking fix it! but itās still there, flickering sometimes and turning the chips aisle into two steps away from a horror movie while picking out your favorite. he hopes customers just know whatever one they want when they come in, heād rather they grab and go anyways.
itās late, and itās hot, because not only is the light fucked, the acās not working, and even with the door half propped open with an umbrella stand, itās still vile in the store, actually. itās enough that he slides the magazine shut, decides enoughās enough, and looks for the half ladder they have thrown in the back, dragging it to the aisle to climb up and just unscrew the lightbulb. itās late, so he takes his jacket off, throwing it over the handle as he starts to climb up, and if someone comes in, then, wellā heāll be on this ladder. it wonāt matter. heās climbing up the stairs when heās hit with a vision. he sees the back, his hand reaching for a switch, the fuse box, comes back to himself with a curse, still halfway down the ladder and stepping down, back, when he stumbles into someone.
he canāt even say anything when heās taken into another one. itās dizzying, to get two back to back, because now heās not himself, anymore, heās looking through the eyes of someoneā thereās a crowd, a whole audience, stage lights, buzzing, bright, blinding, wavering heels and jittery hands, and itās not just, itās not just nerves, itās the feeling of being on something, seonjae would know, itās enough to make someone unsteady on their shoes, stairs coming into view, no rail, no help, a hand on the dress, pulling it up but itās not enough, itās not enough when the shoe slips and she canāt even take a breath before she comes into contact with the floor, sliding down the rest of the stairs and landing, to a chorus of shocked gasps, staring at a broken heel, burning eyes, quick breath, a bloom of painā
seonjae gasps in air when he comes back. blinks, and blinks again, because the worldās a little dizzy when he has to leave it for a few moments, coming back to see a customer he recognizes. she comes in, they donāt talk. itās easy, he rings up whatever she picks, they keep quiet, itās a transaction he looks forward to, because itās over quick and he doesnāt have to think about small talk, just has to think about the exchange, and then itās over. seonjaeās trying.
āsorry.ā he gasps out, and that silence is broken, that promise is broken, that unspoken one that heād been so grateful to have. hastily pulls on his jacket, closes up the ladder, scurrying back to the back to put it away, all because he forgot to turn off the lights, should probably do it when heās leavingā scrambled thoughts, because should heā if he tells her, itās all over, isnāt it? heād broken it already, the kind of feeling he got that she didnāt want to be spoken to, either, but.
he knows what itās like. sometimes he couldnāt even remember things when he was on something, canāt speak on that but can speak on this, that he canāt let that happen if it means sheāll be in pain, later. seonjae returns to the counter hoping sheās still there, chewing on his bottom lip, nerves getting the best of him, remembering that fall, the eyes, really, is what he remembersā all of the eyes, watching.
