run away || markjinson

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'I wanna be among the stars.'
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It was 12 am, and Mark couldn't sleep.

This wasn't abnormal for him. It happened almost every week. He would wake up, and would try to sleep again.

Without succeeding.

Sometimes he would call Jaebum, but recently, he didn't want to, which was unusual since he loves talking to his friend. Jaebum was his best friend and has helped him through so much, and Mark could never repay him for what Jaebum did for him. Regardless, Mark just didn't want to talk to him at the moment. His friend was probably sleeping, and he needs his rest too.

Mark gets out of bed, grabs a hoodie and backpack, and hops out of his window onto the driveway like he's done this a thousand times.

In reality, he has.

He walks down his driveway, pulling the hoodie over his body, blocking out the cold.

He walks with no destination in mind. Mark looks up at the polluted sky, and continues walking.

When he finally stops, he's down town.

"How the fuck did I get down here?"

He pulls out his phone and checks the time.

"2:14.... shit." Mark says, already dreading the walk back home.

He climbs up onto the roof of some abandoned warehouse, and plugs in his headphones, playing whatever random song came on his playlist. Mark then reaches into his bag, pulling out a cigarette pack and a lighter.

Mark hated smoking, but he did it anyways. It made him feel calm and at peace, even if he did hate himself for it. He felt disgusting, knowing that he had people who loved and cared for him. Smoking was just his escape from the world, even if it did have a bad effect on him and his body.

Mark places his legs over the side of the roof before lighting up the cancer stick. He sits and looks up at the sky once again, disappointed that he saw a limited amount of stars. Mark always had a fascination with stars and astronomy. The universe was such a big place, and it made Mark and all of his problems seem small. Like they didn't matter. Thus the reason Mark stopped trying to please everyone, stopped trying to fix everything, stopped caring.

Mark's legs bounced up and down of the cement wall as he smoked the cigarette, which burned itself into ashes.

While lost in his thoughts, he feels a tap on his shoulder. He flinches, almost falling off the roof.

"Woah careful!" Mark feels two hands on his shoulders, then looks to where the familiar, angelic sound came from.

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Jinyoung was home at 9:30 pm, if he can call his house "home" anymore.

Home was somewhere that he would be accepted and loved by everyone in it, of who he was.

This place was definitely not home.

"Mom, I'm back." No answer.

He walks into the kitchen where his mom usually is, and sees her slumped over on the dining table, empty bottles scattered everywhere.

Jinyoung walks over to her and places his hand on her shoulder.

"Mom?" He shakes her body softly.