After Dark 》Minsung

2 》How Did You Get In My House?

Felix wandered back to him, the soft brunet of his fluffy hair intruding his gaze trained on the smooth ceiling. Comforter bundled tightly up in his arms. Steps shuffling. The black cat, Gummy, bouncing back up into the bed as he threw the blankets back on Minho, "Please??? For your brother? For your favorite brother? Ever?"

"Only tonight," Minho grumbled. Reluctantly agreeing as he threw the blankets off to the side and tossed his legs to stand up.  More of those annoyed grunts wincing him as he shuffled away, "Only because you're my favorite parasite."

Ignoring the jubilant celebration he was given from his younger brother, Minho angrily shuffled around the room. Sweeping up whatever clothes made the most sense in his yet to have woken mind, leading to a combination of ripped jeans and some kind of washed black hoodie that fit him decently enough to pass as a humane person, before he disappeared to his bathroom. And his headphones. Always his headphones, slung around his neck. In case he may have needed them, for one reason or another. Ensuring as he went along to not step on the midnight cat shadowing him with her jingling collar, trotting along by his ankles and swerving between his steps in an attempt to assassinate him for leaving the apartment this early in the day.

Well, late in the day, considering it was 7:32 pm.

So what if his sleeping habits were shit? It's not like he needed to be up and out of the house on a consistent schedule. Not with the line of work he did.

Fifteen minutes later, he was sliding into the passenger seat of Felix's car. Some excuse of wanting to be the DJ to get out of driving to their usual spot with their other two friends, coming to fruition when he was able to blast whatever eccentric jams his playlist concocted in it's pathetic excuse of a mix. Some excuse of listening to their rhythms as he watched the city pass by the windows, blanking out at the evening glow illuminating the few hints of the dark ushered in by it's vibrant lights. Signs of neon violet, magenta, blending in with the bland blasé champagne ferment of the street lights that passed by. Imagining each of their hues, blending in, reflecting on his mind as he listened to the music playing over the speakers.

Thankful too when the scene of their typical loiterings popped up. The vehicle gently pulling in, because as much as he teased Felix for hitting a fire hydrant at full force in his first year of university, the man wasn't a horrible driver. Not even slightly, not even a kind of bad one. He didn't clip the curb on his way turning close to parallel park, he didn't swing too far or too close and bump the cars bordering on either side of his own with his bumper or fender, he didn't even brake too hard when realizing he was a few inches too close for comfort to the vehicle in front of hin. He even parked far enough away from anything for Minho to comfortably kick open the car and slide outside, his two legs feeling a little bit too numb as he wobbled along the pavement.

Felix laughing behind him as he jellied his way across the length of the sidewalk, already looking as if he drowned away his sorrows.

Knees protesting at his sudden desire to be a living, walking, breathing human being on the living, spinning, breathing planet Earth. Body wishing to return home and slip underneath his comfy bed covers, be given another hour or so of precious sleep. Eyes not appreciative of the bright assault from the bar's sign. Ears not a fan of the socialites all collectively deciding to be out on that particular day, a Friday. Nose not wanting to exist as soon as he caught a whiff of the offense twinge of alcohol, piss, and some other smell he wasn't sure but was a foul combination of sweat with simply body. All of which, combining into a nice, personal, hellhole for Minho.

Only appeased when he was able to slide up the cement steps and into the bar, the horrendous assault on his being easing up if that was even possible given the circumstances and the building they were inside. The slightly dimmed building, the booth lined along the sides, the classic mahogany curvature of a bar where stools perched along for fresh orders thankful to the bartender currently spinning a tumbler, tassel lights strung along the ceiling to highlight the natural pathway the bar followed. A clunky place, a type of hole-in-the-wall dive, but the bar was more home to him and his friends than anywhere else in this cruel world.