Sunlight twines around the two lone figures on the road, enveloping them in a fragile rubato, Chopin's nocturnes translated to real life. Their hands are pressed together tightly, ink lifted off paper in a perfect fairytale romance.
Gregory wishes a car would hit them both.
He doesn't mean to spy, really, but he can't help it. Something burns in his heart, hot and hard and unwilling, refusing to let him go until---he doesn't know. He can't say. But something about the Girlfriend and Kang Jeong-Soon together pulls his strings the wrong way, splaying black across his scarlet vision until he's struck blind with inaudible emotion.
So Gregory hangs in the shadows, playing with the darkness of alleys he used to love. While he'd never settled in this particular alley, he once used to kiss Colin in little nooks like this, feeling the heated clash of lips and tongues and teeth. When he closes his eyes, he can almost sense the phantom touch of Colin's roaming hands fluttering over his clothed skin, and something sour blossoms in his heart.
Gregory hangs on to the acrid heft of his soul, letting it fester as he tries to connect Jeong-Soon with Colin, if only to squash his own lingering feelings. But it doesn't matter, because he feels nothing but the pinch of envy as Jeong-Soon and his girlfriend cross the street, gazing at each other like they're each other's universe.
The Girlfriend is pretty. Gregory can't bring himself to admit it, but she is. Not particularly remarkable, but pretty. Far more attractive than Gregory himself, and no doubt sweeter. She seems obviously devoted to Jeong-Soon, judging by the way she smiles up at him as if he's the sun and all the stars. Gregory recognises that look. Two years ago, he'd held the same rapture in his eyes, heart bleeding as he'd ripped it out of his chest and placed it in Jeong-Soon's hands.
Gregory shakes the thoughts away. He's moved on. You should too. And he should, really---should forget about Jeong-Soon and concentrate on surviving Bailey.
After all, it's astronomy, and they're two worlds apart.
But he can't, because he's already given his heart away, and he doesn't know how to get it back.
Gregory's sharp eyes dart to the road, just in time to see Jeong-Soon touch his girlfriend's face with a tender hand, and the way the Girlfriend grins at that, looping their fingers together with barely-concealed glee. And damn it, he can't watch any longer, can't bear to see the matching love in their eyes, can't wait to see whether their lips would connect---
"Why would you ever kiss me?"
Gregory's head jerks up at the sudden voice in his head, melodious and soulful. He recognises the song. He'd be completely uncultured not to, considering how it had occupied radio stations for months.
"I'm not even half as pretty."
He'd never really paid much mind---it had been just another song by just another singer, but now, it hits a little too close to home. When Gregory glances across the street, Jeong-Soon and his girlfriend are no longer on the road, but instead standing together in front of the row of shops opposite Bailey, hands still interlocked.
"You gave her your sweater, it's just polyester."
Conan Gray's formerly-soothing voice is distorted now, and Gregory can barely make out the words. Pain twangs through his head, the sharp pluck of a pick on guitar strings. He raises his hands to his ears, only to find the bright blue headphones somehow clasped firmly over them.
"But you like her better, I wish I were Heather."
Gregory's fingernails scratch at the headphones, desperately trying to yank them off. Instead, his fingertips slide against skin slick with liquid, and when he shakily brings them up to his face, his nails are red with blood.
His blood.
Before Gregory's horrified eyes, in the thin fragment of sunlight streaming into the alley, the blood staining his hands swells black---stark ebony against the russet pallour of his calloused fingertips. The charcoal liquid rolls off his nails, dripping to the filthy ground in a relentless, torrential cadence, running notes pounding the floor in an endless flood. And it's not just his ears that are bleeding now, it's his hands too, skin seeping away in delicate onyx sheets, melting right off his bones.
"No," Gregory chokes out, and for a moment, something white flashes in his vision, the ivory gleam of his palm. "N-no." He hates it, the uncontrollable stutter that escapes his fear-clogged throat, stumbling over his words, panic seizing his vocal chords and strangling them in its icy grip.
His head rings like a thousand bells, screaming for salvation as he grasps at straws, searching for a way to glue the forlorn pieces of himself back together. Gregory raises his hand, and he watches midnight blood trickle off pallid, alabaster cartilage, exposed for all the world to see as the shell that is his skin disintegrates around him.
Shadow blocks out the sun.
And just like that, the pain is gone, leaving Gregory pressed against the dirty alley wall, heart flowing allegro in his hollow chest. The headphones are gone. He checks himself, fingers tapping, tapping, tapping at his own body. Hands? Whole. Ears? Whole. Head? Whole, whole, whole.
Maybe I am crazy after all.
He lifts his head groggily, looking towards the alley entrance. In the fragmented light streaming over their heads, he can make out four figures. One steps closer, and Gregory mumbles a curse when he recognises him.
"A little birdie told me you would be here," Archer says.
٩( ᐛ )و
The first thought in Gregory's mind is, Could I fight all of them?
The second thought, upon quickly accessing the situation, is, Definitely not. While Archer's the tallest out of all of them, the other three still top Gregory's grand height of five-foot-five. There are muscles visible in all four sets of limbs despite the dimness of the alley. And then there's Archer himself. The Scary Knife Guy, who's currently smiling at Gregory with a grin a shark would be jealous of.
The third thought is, I don't care. I'm going to fight them anyway, because Gregory would rather die with his dignity intact.
But then Archer opens his mouth, and Gregory realises that he's definitely not going to die with his dignity intact.
"Hey, Northtide boy," Archer sneers, and Gregory's heart stops beating, because he knows. He doesn't know how he knows, but all he knows is that he knows, and damn it, not again, no, not now, never, please no---
Archer holds up his phone, and Gregory knows he's screwed. Slightly-blurry shots of his naked body from the glossy view of a mirror are splayed out across the device, haunting him, taunting him. The nudes he'd genuinely believed Colin had deleted from his Instagram page now rest in the rough hand of a wannabe gangster and his posse, who cackle at Gregory with grins wide enough to match Archer's.
Gregory throws on his best scowl, trying to look as convincing as possible. "That's not me," he spits, although he knows it's hopeless; although turned away in the slight embarrassment he'd felt that day while snapping the photos, his face is unmistakeable. Fuck you, Colin. Fuck you, fuck your family, and fuck your cow too.
"Looks an awful lot like you, mate," one of Archer's lackeys points out, making Gregory clench his teeth, fists clenching at his sides.
"Doppelgangers," Gregory grits out. Not this again. No. Absolutely not. A hundred percent no. Abso-fucking-lutely not.
Archer laughs. It's not a nice laugh. It's cold, grating and mean, rolling off his tongue like steel on ice. "Do you think we're stupid?"
Yes. "Leave me alone." In Gregory's head, Colin dies a thousand deaths, over and over. Every time he stops dying, Gregory mentally kills him again.
"Did you leave my sister alone, Gregory? Did you leave her and her boyfriend alone?" Archer's copper eyes flash dangerously, but his smile never leaves his face. "No, right? So give me one reason why I should." Archer's goons chuckle in unison. Gregory wishes all of them would hurry up and fucking die.
"Your boyfriend was so nice," Archer cooes. Ex-boyfriend. Actually, fuck that. That asshole doesn't even deserve that title. "He was more than willing to share these with us." What happened to trying to get me back, Colin? This definitely isn't helping your case, you know. "Said he was pissed off at you, anyway, since you keep blocking him." Of course. Of fucking course. Of course he would leak them to outsiders as revenge porn. What did I expect from that asshole?
"What do you want?" Gregory snaps, rage bubbling in him like a witch's cauldron, threatening to overflow.
"We don't want you here," one of Archer's lackeys growls, and the way Archer nods in agreement makes Gregory wish he'd just sucked it up and apologised to his stupid twin sister and her stupid boyfriend.
It's too late now, though.
"Fuck you!" Gregory shouts, tearing his eyes away from the digital print of his naked body. He wants to grab the phone out of Archer's hand and smash it to bits, but he knows he'll only die more painfully. "Don't you dare fucking spread those around!"
Archer tsks gently, stare full of icy malice. "Who are you to tell me what to do, Gregory?"
Something snaps, and Gregory finds himself surging at Archer, reckless impulse crackling through his blood. His fist connects with the other boy's cheek, and for a moment, victory fills his veins.
It's short-lived, though, especially when the other three pounce on him, easily tackling him to the ground. Gregory feels his head knock against the floor so hard his teeth clatter as someone slugs him in the mouth---he can't tell who. A shoe drives itself into his middle, an involuntary gasp escaping his mouth as all the air flees from his lungs.
"Fuck---you---" Gregory manages to wheeze, successfully grabbing a stray arm before a fist slams into his ribs. Biting back his cry of agony, he tries to land a hit anywhere, but his hand slices through nothing but air. It's no use. It's four against one. Muscle against bone.
A sneaker grinds itself down on his hand, pushing it into the hard tar of the ground. This time, Gregory can't help the pained yelp that slips past the guarded control of his lips, feeling gravel crushing into his palm, red pinpricking his skin. The clutching fingers of his free hand close around an ankle, only to be brutally ripped off as another kick lands square in the middle of his stomach, sending him rolling backwards. As his face smacks into the floor, Gregory coughs, almost unsurprised to see the ground underneath him stain itself scarlet with his blood.
I am so going to die today, Gregory thinks as someone punches him in the back of the head, effectively smashing his face into the floor again. He can't sense his fingers anymore, and pain blooms over every inch of his body. It's going to take a miracle to get me out of this mess.
A thin flash. Another sliver of vermillion, dribbling from somewhere between his tightly-clenched teeth in weak rivulets. His vision blurs, black spots dancing before his eyes.
He feels it before he sees it.
The heavy bass of danger, throbbing through every vein in his body. The lure of hope, hanging thick in the air. The pounding of his own heart, thrumming against his bruised ribs. Crescendo, crescendo, crescendo. His breath comes out in ragged gasps, and although he's not moving, his blood roars in his ears. Dread consumes him in dregs, quick and merciless.
Because Kang Jeong-Soon stands at the entrance of the alley, and around his neck is wrapped a familiar wire, splaying scarlet over his snowy skin.
nO BUT YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND IAMKINDASORTAMAYBEINLOVE SOMEONE SAVE ME BEFORE I ACTUALLY WRITE *shudders* A HAPPY ENDING like those fricking butterflies??? YEAH THOSE STUPID BUTTERFLIES I FEEL THEM and it's fOR SOMEONE REAL WHO ISN'T FAMOUS like??? butterflies??? for a non-celeb, non-fictional character??? I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO HELP nO SERIOUSLY THIS IS A CRISIS ignore this pls this is what happens when i'm not single I'M GONNA MARRY HIM no you won't I'M GONNA MARRY HIM shut up you dumb biotch
ANYGAYS WE MADE IT ONTO THE HOMEPAGE BABES WOO-HOO sjshjsjs I'M SO HAPPY
music terms of the day!
rubato — with some freedom of time
nocturne — a short composition of a romantic nature, typically for piano
allegro — fast, lively
to everyone planning to leave after this chapter, don't. because schist is going DOWN in the next. like, i can't tell you what's gonna happen, but i can assure you that it's gonna be crazy. like, REALLY crazy.
also, if you're up for the challenge, there are TWO references in this chapter. one is a line from a Conan Gray song (and no, it's not Heather) and the other is a Disney movie reference, modified slightly to fit Gregory's personality. happy hunting!
i hope this chapter was satisfactory! i started it pretty late at night and continued in between classes, so i'm kinda on the fence about it. lmk what y'alls think <3
i'll be on holidays starting from next week, so i'll be catching up on my reading (yes!!! i'll be actually reading the books i've promised to read 10000 times!!!) and possibly my writing. does that mean an extra TSP update? we'll see ;)
love y'alls, take care of yourselves, and thank you for always supporting me and my boys 💙💙💙
xoxo, Alex