Tidal Wave ✔️

02

Of course, he could be a fraud. But Mark had a feeling that it wasn't a lie.

"I was there. That's what you need to know now."

But where? Mark was frustrated. His parents wouldn't let him know, and now he was bothered by the fact that someone out there knew exactly what's going on.

Mark smiled back at his mother and excused himself, saying he would like to go to his room.

"Good night, Mark." His mother said before Mark disappeared from her sight.

"Good night, Ma."

Mark went upstairs and quickly tiptoed to his bedroom. Once he reached his safe place, Mark closed the door, locked it, and sighed in relief.

It was one of the night when Mark felt afraid of his own parents. He couldn't remember anything from before he was seven. They kept denying, said nothing happened. Based on what Mark found on the internet, repressed memories happened to those who had a trauma from the past. It could be an abuse, or sexual harassment. Anything bad and traumatic, you named it.

There must be something.

But what?

Mark kicked his backpack that laid on the rugged floor. The poor thing flew to the corner of the room.

As he got older second by second, minutes by minutes, day by day... Mark drifted away from his past. It was getting harder for him to recall anything. Mark was lost, incomplete.

Mark sat on his bed and grabbed his phone from his table. He dialed the number he always called whenever he needed something to distract him. Three rings later, and the person picked up.

"Yes, Mark?"

"Hyung, are you home?"

"Nah, I'm at Chanyeol's place. You wanna come over?"

"Sure."

"Alright, Imma send Ten to pick you up."

"Hold up, you're not going to stop me this time, right?"

The man at the other end of the line chuckled. "Of course not. You're a grownup now, Mark. You have an ID. You're legal. Of course a swig or two of liquor won't hurt."

"Thanks, Johnny-hyung."

"I'll see you later, kid."

Mark hung up, scoffed. He was no kid. He was eighteen for goodness' sake. Mark went to his door, and shouted to his parents.

"Going to bed early, okay? Good night!"

"Night, Mark! Sweet dream!" His father replied from his parents' bedroom at the end of the hall.

Mark quickly locked his door and changed his clothes. He wore a black turtleneck with a denim jacket, and black ripped skinny jeans. And don't forget a pair of Vans.

Mark took out a pack of cigarettes from his backpack and his lighter, then went out of the window, and climbed down the wall using the vines his mother planted.

He quietly ran out of the lawn to the end of the street. Gangnam was still alive, even when the time showed it was nine at night.

Ten minutes later, a black Mazda MX-5 pulled up near Mark. The guy was familiar with the vehicle and quickly got inside.

"Hey." Ten, a guy with a lot tattoos and piercing greeted with a smile. Underneath his killer look, Ten was a great, funny guy. Tonight he wore a white shirt, unbuttoned, revealing his torso.

"How's the tattoo parlor doing, Hyung?" Mark fist-bumped the Thai. Ten owned a tattoo parlor in Mapo-gu. Mark heard the business was blooming.

"Oh it went well, alright. I now have my own money. Don't have to call Johnny to ask for some cash." Ten winked. Mark laughed.

"So, Johnny's in Chanyeol's place. Which bar?"

"The one in Hongdae."

"Okay, shall we go now?"

"Sure. Have some cig?"

Mark handed him one. Ten held it between his lips, and Mark lit it up with his match.

"Nicotine." Ten muttered before they hit the road.

Whoops, there you go. Don't smoke, kids.
(((Restraining myself not to publish more chapter because it's just the beginning)))