#keeptracks.

( @iamanown )

what the fuck was he on. 

it’s the first thought to surface in daehyun’s mind when the sounds start. slow, tantalizing, a little creepy the slide down his back and around his throat. he’s good on his feet right now, coordinated, seeing clearly. he knows they’ve got a meeting coming up and practice later on tomorrow so he can’t afford to be anything but coordinated. he still finds it necessary to scroll through the events of the day and the days past, pick up some anomaly that means he fucked up and got shit-faced without knowing it. he could be sleep-walking and his dreams crashed with reality. it’d be a hell of a story to tell jaebin back at the dorm. given the situation though, heading to the dorm doesn’t seem like a good idea. 

in fact. the voices get louder and he doesn’t think heading anywhere is a good idea. he could be losing his shit because he’s looking around to find a face to place the words. breath. words. so close he can grab it but he’d look an idiot grabbing at the air, at the unknown. it’s frustrating. he’s sober for crying out loud. sober and currently stressed.

“listen,” at this point if he’s talking to himself maybe he can talk some sense into himself. “the world’s been falling. catch up.” it’s full of the corrupt, pigs who fill their belly insatiably and let the runts suckle their bathwater. it’s filthy, cruel and it’s the only time he’d admit it. he doesn’t like to think about it, doesn’t like people to know he thinks about it. daehyun is a optimist! so they say. he’d prefer to stay that way. he doesn’t dream often. he doesn’t wish often either, but he’ll sit with his sister for hours, boring lies into the carpet with his knees each time the clock turns 11:11. he’s an optimist! right?