KIM HONGJOONG
('Cause I'm T.N.T., I'm dynamite
and I'll win the fight
I'm a power load
watch me explode)
11:19 PM
16 May 2020
It's nearly sundown, the vermin of the Seoul undergrown finally emerging from the shadows, gathering in traffic-deserted streets to do what they do best: drugs, sex, and racing.
With wild tangled hair, a wilder grin and a down-right savage glint in his eyes, Hongjoong looked dangerous, and everyone in the Seoul racing scene knew it the moment they laid eyes on him.
The driver-side window is open as always, a stupid minion bobblehead sitting on the dashboard, head bobbing in time with the music. Eden gifted it to him as a joke, but Hongjoong kept it, turning it into an odd lucky charm.
His car radio is blasting T.N.T by AC/DC. High Voltage is the only album he listens to while driving, a gift from his uncle and the first CD he ever owned.
He was the self-proclaimed best racer among them, and few would be dumb enough to disagree.
The race that weekend, though, was different. Hongjoong had been paid to lose, but losing was not in his vocabulary.
You see, Hongjoong raced to win, and no amount of money could convince him otherwise. Even if he had to face the consequences of defying powerful people, he'd always manage to slink away unscathed.
He wasn't going to get away this time.
Sweat trickles down his forehead, his knuckles white as he grips the steering wheel. Wind ruffles his hair, and his throat is scratchy and sore from screaming.
His veins are filled with ecstasy – literally and figuratively – and Hongjoong has never felt more alive.
Racing was easy, always had been, especially when he lacked anything else to care for.
Hongjoong lived his life at full throttle, never stopping or slowing down enough to take root.
When asked why they race, most people would say it's for the thrill and the pleasure. Or perhaps just to rebel against the system.
They want to feel their body fill with fire, liquifying their insides and make their eyes rattle in their skull.
It's to feel their stomach twist and drop with every turn of the steering-wheel or to trade out the depressing world around them for just a few seconds of excitement.
But Hongjoong raced to win.
Briefly blinded by the city lights, he hits the breaks and skids around the corner, dangerously close to scratching his car against the curb.
Leaving his opponents in the dust, Hongjoong lets out a victorious cry and thumps his fist down on the dashboard in front of him.
God, he feels amazing.
Winning is an addicting feeling. It's a sort of rush, very different from the adrenaline kick he experiences while racing, but Hongjoong still yearned it more than anything else.
YOU ARE READING
A MURDER IN SEOUL
Fanfiction꒰ ONGOING ꒱ ━ SEONGJOONGSANG 365 FRESH AU this is a story of bruised hearts and shattered dreams, of bloody noses and starry-eyes lovers. it's about a murder in seoul that changed three lives forever. it's a little like hell, almost romantic.
