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The music in the club is loud. Way too loud. It's humanly impossible to listen to someone speaking right into your ear because the music is drowning even the loudest sounds. It's the kind of music that always plays in clubs.
There is no sense to the lyrics, just the same words getting repeated. Everything inside the club is vibrating from the strong bass and it certainly helps to make the already dizzy crowd even more lost.
Bodies are pressed against other bodies to find balance or orientation - an anchor of sorts - so the music won't swallow you whole. Everyone needs someone or something to lean on, so they won't fall over and lose consciousness, but it's all hidden behind the façade of a dance.
They are too tired to dance but too scared of losing their way if they were to leave. It's human nature to stick to other humans when they feel danger. And the music is a danger of sorts, mixed with the alcohol and other forbidden substances that were served along with it.
The whole room smells forbidden, but no one cares or notices. They are busy keeping up with the lazy dance moves to hide how far gone they are.
He's in the middle of everything and he is not better than anyone else. Even when he opens his eyes, the things he sees are but a blurry mirror of reality. He knows that he is in a club and there are bodies surrounding him from all sides, a chest against his back, thighs against foreign thighs, someone is leaning against his chest, but he is not sure if that person is unconscious or still moving.
He has no time to wonder about that. He needs to concentrate to keep his body working. Clubs are a game and you lose if you are blacking out.
The music changes to another annoying tune. It's buzzing right in his ears, frying his brain cells, and then spitting them out. He feels the ground sway under his feet - or is his body swaying? - and one of his pillars of support is gone in the next moment. One person down, but it doesn't take long for another girl to fill the empty spot.
He opens his eyes because a scent of vanilla fills his nostrils - an almost nostalgic scent from long ago. He pulls the girl closer to his body and she doesn't mind.
Her hip is grinding against his and the smell is so strong, so close. He feels like the scent crawling down his throat and slowly suffocating him, making him choke on memories.
"G-"
Suddenly, the song stopped, and silence falls on them. It feels like a punch in the gut after the mind-blowing noise before. He staggers backward, clumsily pushing the person behind him back as well.
"Sorry..."
"The club closes now, guys. Get home safe."
The DJ tells them, and everyone makes disappointed noises.
"You okay there, Kang?" The other guy asks.
He manages a half-steady nod and blinks a few times to clear his sight. It's suddenly easier to see, to breathe, and feel now that the music is gone. The crowd on the dance floor is quickly dispersing too. "Never been better. Great party."
"All thanks to you, dude!" Another voice says. Taehyun doesn't know the name. Has he even talked to him before?
The walk to the bar is short - luckily. He hopes no one sees how bad he feels inside and how hard it is for him to stay on his feet. His head is still drumming from the music and although he had little to drink, Taehyun feels like he wants to throw up. Some people pat his shoulder before they leave.
"Thanks for the drinks, Kang!" Who are you?
"Let's party again!" Sure.
"You are the best friend one can possibly have!" You mean my wallet, don't you?
"The tab is on you, right?" Like always.
"You are the best!" I'm not.
"Indeed, no party without Kang Taehyun!" I'm tired.
"Man, I wish I had money like you!" If only you knew.
In the end, he is the last person left in the club - not counting the barkeeper slash owner of course. The older guy gives him a worried glance that Taehyun barely catches. He feels empty and worn-out. "You know those people just hang out with you because you have money."
Shut up.
"They will drop you as soon as you aren't paying their drinks anymore."
I know that. So what? I just must go on and don't stop. Everyone loves me. Everyone looks up to me. This is all I need. I'm using them as they use me.
He doesn't want any friends.
He wants to be loved.
Taehyun returns home with an empty wallet, a bad headache, and a bitter aftertaste on his tongue. The scent of vanilla is still lingering on his skin and everywhere in the air. The girl from the dance floor found him again once he left the club and they had a little fun in one of the alleys - though he would hardly call it fun. But he couldn't turn the girl who smells like vanilla away. She reminded him of his past, of a better time, and of someone he no longer was.
Who is he now? Taehyun doesn't know.
He closes the door behind his back and stumbles down the short hallway. The wood is squeaking under his feet, but he is already used to the sound, so he doesn't react. After the short hallway, he is already in his living room slash bedroom slash kitchen.
The apartment doesn't have any more rooms - just this one, the bath and the small corridor to his door. The room has one window, but it's dirty and you can barely see the outside world through it, but Taehyun doesn't care about that. He never looks out of it anyways. It's just there to spend light, even if it's dimmed light.
