019: choi san is too much

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tw: suicide attempt

and guys, woo's story is the flashbacks you've been reading all this time

and guys, woo's story is the flashbacks you've been reading all this time

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* * *

《 and i have to wonder
if this life's truly the right
one for me 》

July 10.

Wooyoung stared at the worn calendar duct-taped to the dull grey wall of his one bedroom apartment. The date was harshly crossed over in red highlight marker, the colour stark against the white surface.

Wooyoung hitched a low breath, shoving his hands into the pocket of his trousers. Today's the day.

He'd never really planned for it to go this way, nor for today's date to be the end. In fact, he'd blindly chose July as it was in the summer, swearing a couple months earlier he wouldn't go along with it if he'd managed to pull himself together by then.

Obviously, he'd failed. But it was alright; he wouldn't have the chance to fail anymore after today.

Wooyoung shut the calendar and threw it on his unmade bed, not wanting to look at it anymore.

Brows pinched, he raked his fingers down his hair, and when he caught sight of himself on the small mirror to his side, chuckles broke out of him.

He observed his face through the eyes he came to despise, down to his nose and stretched lips. It fascinated him how he could laugh when he felt so empty on the inside.

"I won't have to see your face again," Wooyoung whispered, grinning like a madman. "Today is the last time I'm going to look at you." He took a step back. Goodbye.

Head overwhelmed with thoughts as loud as the rainfall that pierced the earth earlier this morning, Wooyoung pushed himself out of the apartment before something could stop him.

The sound of the door getting locked echoed in tandem with his heartbeat, and for a second, Wooyoung had to rest against the door for support. He inhaled a quick, shallow breath, fingers digging into his knees. He felt like his legs were turning into jello.

All around him, life continued on as normal. Large streetlamps struck honeyed yellow into the dark, casting halos everywhere he looked. To Wooyoung's right laid houses identical to his, their windows lit with shadows of people blissfully unaware of what he was going to do soon. Some kid kicked a football his way, but raced for it before he could return it back. Not that he'd wanted to, anyway.

Wooyoung began walking, sneakers scuffing across the pavement and into the asphalt road. Surprised he'd even made it this far without stumbling, he looked up at the sky, the distant voices of his neighbours fading into the background.

A dreamy lilac filled his vision, complete with tiny sparkling stars that seemed endless from where Wooyoung stood. It was pretty; one of the prettiest skies Wooyoung had ever seen in his lifetime. A bitter smirk pulled at his lips at the irony of it all.

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