"You're so pretty," the man — who Soobin doesn't care to learn the name of, breathes out from underneath him, hot air hitting against Soobin's cool neck. His breath smells like cheap mint mixed with the stale scent of beer, making Soobin fight the urge to turn up his nose in distaste.
Soobin doesn't say anything, just holding the man's gaze for what feels like a lifetime. They're close, almost too close for Soobin's comfort. From this distance he can notice everything about him, especially the way his lips are covered in a thin coat of saliva from the constant licking of his tongue and the way beads of sweat glisten while making their way down the side of his face.
He's being flipped over on the bed before he even gets the chance to form a coherent thought, the silk sheets pressing against his bare skin, grabbing them tightly between his fingers to keep himself grounded. The man's hands are everywhere on his body, dragging from the top of his shoulders and across his exposed chest until they stop at his waist, grabbing the skin there as if it's his own personal stress ball. His nails dig into Soobin's skin, and he's sure that he's going to have small, crescent-shaped indents left behind.
The man's cock is pressed against his crotch and Soobin closes his eyes, pressing his head deeper into the pillow. He slowly grinds against him through their clothes, leaning down to press kisses against Soobin's neck, making sure to take his time on the way down.
How is it possible that something so wrong feels so good?
It's absolute torture and Soobin has to bite his tongue, holding back both the most pathetic whine threatening to escape and a mixture of profanities showing his annoyance at how long it's taking.
A pair of warm lips are pressed against his neck, sucking on the skin without care. He knows the marks will be hell to cover up over the next few days, but right now he doesn't care about any of that, he can only focus on the pleasure coursing through his body each time their skin comes into contact.
Soobin's arms wrap around the man's neck, fingers clasping together to pull him closer. He smells nice, like the perfect mixture of sage and cedarwood, something that only makes Soobin wish this was something that could last longer.
The man is intoxicated, totally wasted, staring down at Soobin with blown eyes, running his hands up and down his thighs and wrapping them around his waist. Soobin lets out a low moan, shivering when his thighs are grabbed tightly, his body being pulled down in the bed.
His head is no longer against the soft pillowcase pressed against his tousled hair, but rather the silk sheets that he was previously grasping. He feels exposed, vulnerable to anything that the man wants, like a prey cowering under its predator.
Lips are everywhere on his body – sucking on the sensitive skin of his neck before trailing down to his collarbones. His mouth is open, small puffs of air escaping his lips, becoming more ragged with each passing second. The most pathetic whimper escapes his lips when he feels the man's mouth against his clothed member, holding onto the sheets so tightly that his knuckles begin to blanch.
His back arches, fingers finding their way to the man's locks, pulling at the soft strands without remorse. But when he feels a pair of cool fingers make their way into the waistband of his boxers, seconds away from pulling them off, Soobin is pulling himself back up in the bed, stopping the man's actions.
"I want to try something," Soobin rushes out, placing his hands against the man's arms. The skin is warm, a thin layer of sweat coating his fingers from where they rest on his biceps. He can feel the man's muscles under his fingertips, letting his hands drop to the guys wrists. "Please?" he looks up at the man with big eyes, pouting for extra effect. He knows the effect he has on people, all it takes is a little show of his dimples and anyone caves for whatever he wants.
He's not dumb, he knows tricks to get whatever he wants, and based on how the man's hands haven't left him all night, he knows that he's likely to get it.
The man nods, letting Soobin slip from underneath him. He gets up from the bed, watching as the man rolls over on his back, staring at him so closely that it makes him squirm.
It's not his first time doing this, so he doesn't understand why he still feels so vulnerable in situations like this.
"Do you trust me?" Soobin asks, grabbing the man's belt off of the floor. He walks back over to the bed, belt in hand, making himself comfortable on the man's lap. He can feel the man's erection against him, leaning down to kiss his collarbone. He's given a nod and it's all the permission he needs to grab the man's arms, wrapping the belt around his wrists before tying them to the bed frame. He checks it for security before he crawls off the man's lap. "I forgot something downstairs, let me go grab it real quick."
"Don't leave me waiting for too long, darling" the man drags out, closing his eyes with a chuckle.
Soobin doesn't laugh, he doesn't even say a word before quietly opening the door and slipping out, letting out a sigh of relief. The stairs are cold under his bare feet, and he wastes no time making his way back down to the living room where they first started.
He grabs his pants off the floor, quickly pulling them up his legs before throwing his shirt over his head. He feels better now that his skin isn't bare, a huff passing his lips as he gathers his stuff — which thankfully, isn't that much, just his wallet and keys.
Squinting his eyes, he looks around the room for the one item he's been trying to get all night. He walks over to the coffee table, moving the man's belongings around until he finally finds the man's wallet, patting himself on the back. This is a new record for him, getting out in less than an hour, and without Kai calling him asking where he's at during the late hours of the night. It's moments like this where he's really proud of how sneaky he's become.
Not that he necessarily wants to be a manipulative liar, but it is what it is.
He flips through the wallet, grabbing everything he needs — more specifically the man's cash. He's not a monster, he'll still leave the man's identification cards for him so he can replace his cards once he realizes they're missing. He shoves the items into his pocket before slipping his shoes on, checking to make sure the man isn't coming downstairs before making a run for it.
He's never been caught before, and he's not about to let tonight be any different.
It's like a weight is lifted off his shoulders once he steps into the elevator and out of the man's hotel room. He almost swears for a moment that he can hear the poor guy yelling, but that's not a problem for him to deal with anymore. He got what he needed, now it's time for him to go.
His next goal? Getting through the lobby without raising any suspicions. It was easy coming in, wrapped up in the arms of someone who looks like they belong here, and by that, he means rich. Rich people are by far his favorite targets, they're all so desperate to get someone in bed that they don't question it when Soobin is passing them one more drink than they can handle.
"Can I help you with something, sir?" One of the security guards asks, taking a step closer to him. Soobin's blood freezes in his veins, and he almost breaks his cover before clearing his throat. He glances past him at the revolving door – he's too close to be stopped now.
"Just dropped off some food to the gentleman in 401," Soobin lies, pulling out his phone and walking past the guard.
His arm is grabbed, the man forcing him to stop. "Do you have a form of identification on you?"
"Yeah, I have lots of them, actually. I've got my driver's license – funnily enough, since I actually don't know how to drive, my state identification, and my student– Hey, look I'm really sorry to cut the conversation short, but I've got some more orders to deliver." He pulled his arm out of the man's grip, hastily walking towards the exit.
And with that, he makes his way out of the building, taking in a deep breath once his shoes hit the pavement. That's definitely the closest he's ever been to getting caught, but the stack of cash in his pocket makes all of it worth it. He pulls it out, flipping through the bills as he walks in the direction of his dorm room.
It's not something he does daily, maybe once or twice a week? Sometimes three if his work isn't bringing him enough income. It seems like there's too many bills piling up on him, and he needs something to bring some extra cash in. Sure, it's not conventional, but what else is he supposed to do?
He's never actually slept with anyone. The most he does is get them drunk and steal all of their money.
And now that he's thinking that out loud, maybe he is the issue. Maybe he should try therapy, or get another job. He shutters at the thought.
The streets are empty at this hour, so empty that any normal person would probably find it scary, but to him it's comforting. It's the silence that he so desperately craves. The air is fresh, filling his lungs so full with each inhale that it physically hurts. But it's the only time when he truly feels peaceful.
No one else understands it. They don't get how hard it is struggling to make ends meet every month, and they never will. As much as he loves all of his friends, they've never once had to work for something that they want or need, it's always just given to them. He wants to be mad at them for it, considering how unfair life worked out for him, but he knows that's not their fault.
And by friends, he means Kai.
The walk to his door is a lot shorter than he expected it to be, and maybe part of the reason for that is how lost in his thoughts he's been. Either way, he's back now, and he's sure that Kai is waiting for him at the front door with his arms crossed over his chest, the look of a disappointed dad written across his face.
And he's mostly right. Kai is standing at the front door, standing with his hands on both of his hips, fully prepared to lecture him about his whereabouts, which is pretty annoying, but he knows Kai only does it because he cares. What he didn't expect though is the fuzzy house slippers on Kai's feet, the ugliest shade of brown that he's ever seen. He raises a brow, closing the door behind him.
"New shoes?" Soobin asks, locking the door and shrugging his jacket off of his shoulders. The cool living room air hits his shoulders, sending a shiver through his body. His jacket is thrown over the back of the couch, trying his best to appear like Kai's gaze isn't making him uncomfortable.
Kai's expression changes within a fraction of a second, going from a look of disappointment to excitement faster than Soobin can even blink. He lights up, a smile spreading across and he looks down at his shoes, pointing his foot out to show Soobin them better. "Oh, these?" He lets out a long, dramatic sigh. "I got them earlier today. Went to the store and they were on sale. Can you believe that? I got them so cheap."
Soobin hums. "Really? I can't imagine why."
"Yeah, me either," Kai frowns, scratching his head. "Maybe they ordered too many and needed to get rid of some?" He looks down at his shoes, inspecting them. "I think they're perfect. Taehyun had the nerve to say he doesn't like them, and then got mad at me when I told him that his sense of fashion sucked."
"You tell him, Kai. Don't let him talk down to you like that."
Taehyun is Kai's crush, though he denies it anytime it's mentioned, but it doesn't stop the blush spreading across his face, matching the redness of his ears. Kai met Taehyun their first semester of college, in their Introduction to Music class during their freshman year, and ever since then, Kai invites him over constantly in hopes that Taehyun will magically develop feelings for him.
Taehyun has his own friends, his own group of people that he hangs out with outside of Kai, and they're the complete opposite. He heard from Kai that Taehyun is into frat parties, spending most of his weekends partying with a friend that Soobin has never cared enough to learn the name of, lacking respect for any person who only came to college to party. He's the complete opposite of Kai in so many ways, so how Kai managed to fall in love with Taehyun of all people is a huge mystery to him.
Soobin walks over to the fridge, opening up the door, the flickering fridge light doing little to nothing to help him see inside. They've been meaning to get it fixed for awhile now, but with both of their hectic schedules, neither of them have the time to deal with it. They'll get to it eventually, maybe during their downtime between semesters.
"I won't," Kai mutters, though the comment is more reassurance for himself, following him into the kitchen like a lost puppy and sitting down on the island counter. Kai has no respect for the chairs that are tucked into their respective spots a few mere inches away, always deciding to sit on things that aren't necessarily meant to be sat on. But when the counter breaks one day, it'll be a Kai problem. "Hey," Kai pipes up, resting his elbows on his knees, brows pinching together. "Where have you been anyway? It's after midnight and we have class in the morning."
Soobin shrugs. "Shouldn't you be in bed then? I heard that elderly people need at least seven hours of sleep–"
"Elderly?" Kai squawks, eyes widening as he lets out a huff. "Okay, I am not elderly, and Taehyun is older than I am, so if anyone is elderly, it's him."
"So you're saying that you're into dilfs?"
Soobin reaches into the fridge, moving around various items in an attempt to find something that looks the slightest bit appetizing – but all he's found so far is half a carton of eggs, some expired yogurt, and a moldy, half eaten mozzarella stick, which isn't really appealing for an early Tuesday morning.
"Do you want to order a pizza or something?" Soobin asks with a defeated sigh, closing the fridge door shut once more. He's sure that the delivery man will hate them for ordering so late, but he's literally starving right now. "I was thinking maybe–" he stops when he looks over at Kai, jaw nearly on the floor as he stares at Soobin. "What?"
"Did you imply Taehyun's a dilf?"
Soobin sighs. "Pizza, Kai. Yes or no?"
One thing about Kai? When he's stuck on a topic, he'll drag it out for ages. Whether or not that's a good thing depends on the day, and when it's nearing two in the morning, Soobin doesn't really want to keep the conversation going for longer than needed.
"Only if you get breadsticks with it," he pauses for a second. "Those really fancy ones with the cheese inside of them. That shit is so good."
Soobin waves him off, reaching into his hoodie pocket and pulling out the wad of cash that he took out of the man's wallet. He hasn't had the chance to count it yet, but at first glance he can already tell it's enough to pay for at least two months of his rent.
At least that's one less thing for him to worry about now.
"Woah," Kai gasps, looking down at the money with wide eyes as Soobin hands him the money for the pizza. "Where did you get that from?"
Soobin shrugs.
Kai shakes his head. "No, seriously, Soobin. Where did you get this from?" He asks again, and he knows it's the start of another long conversation if he doesn't get out now. "Did you steal this from work?"
"No."
"Did you rob someone?"
"No."
"Please don't tell me you're sleeping with people again."
And that's the comment that finally makes Soobin snap, glaring at Kai so hard that he's surprised he hasn't combusted yet.
The 'again' hurts much more than it should. Kai was close to finding out about some of the things that Soobin has been up to, but he quickly covered it up, claiming that he was sexually active in an attempt to get out his frustration from school. That was a year ago, but the excuse seemed to work, seeing as Kai never asked about it again.
"I got a raise at work, Kai," Soobin lies, letting out a huff. "But hey, good to know I can always count on you to assume the worst of me!" He forces a smile, shoving past Kai and heading towards his bedroom. He doesn't even try to listen to what Kai has to say, muting him out as he slams and locks his bedroom door.
He plops on his bed with a sigh, rubbing his hands over his face harsher than he probably should.
Kai is stupid.
He's stupid and he doesn't know what he's talking about, even if what he's saying is true. Kai has never had to struggle for anything in his life, so Soobin wouldn't expect him to understand this. He's not doing anything wrong, he's just... trying to survive.
Soobin's aware that what he's doing is wrong, and he feels guilty for it every time, but he simply doesn't know what else to do. There's no way he can afford to have another job and keep his grades up in college. He'll lose his scholarship if his grades drop even the slightest bit lower. He's doing everything that he can to make it.
He rolls over on his side, burying his face in his pillow. He doesn't care enough to take off his clothes from outside, or to even pull the cover over himself, so he simply lays there, facing the wall blankly.
If the twenties are supposed to be the best years of your life, then why does he feel so miserable?
Soobin's damp, messy hair clings to his forehead as he tosses back and forth in the bed, chest rising and falling heavily with each labored breath he takes. He looks around the room, taking everything in. It all looks the same as when he fell asleep last night, the same clothes, the same pile of books on his nightstand, and the same bag discarded in the corner of the room.
Everything's okay, he's okay.
He pushes his hair out of his face, kicking the blanket down to his ankles and allowing for the conditioned air to hit parts of his bare skin. The clock reads half past four, and there's no way he's going to be able to go to sleep now. He might be able to stop by their coffee shop inside of the library and grab something before class if he can make the bus.
His hand pats around on the bed, looking for his phone that he was too upset to charge last night, already regretting it. He squints at the brightness from his screen as he unlocks his phone, being met with nothing but pointless emails and promotional notifications from apps.
No messages, no calls, nothing.
Sometimes he wonders why he has a phone to begin with, it's not like anyone ever contacts him. And the one person who does talk to him just so happens to share the other half of the apartment, which could partially be the only reason why he hangs around, but who knows.
He did this to himself though. He isolated himself from everyone until they all eventually left. And maybe Kai will be the next one to walk out on him. It'll all end the same way so what's the point in trying to stop the inevitable?
The blankets are discarded carelessly, balling into a pile on the dirty floor. He makes a mental note to wash them later, although he knows he'll probably be way too tired to even think about it. He doesn't care about the stains or ripped up threads on the blanket anymore, it all perfectly reflects how he feels on the inside – disgusting and damaged.
He pushes himself off the bed, groaning at the pain that shoots through his back from his tough mattress. The springs squeak beneath his weight as he gets off the bed, making his way towards the closet and throwing on the first thing he finds, not bothering to make sure it looks alright.
It's just a college class, so who cares how he looks? He's never had anyone to impress before, never had someone who gives him a reason to try, so really, why should he?
He quickly brushes his teeth, running a hand through his knotted hair, avoiding the mirror at all costs. The last thing he wants is to see how terrible he looks, it'll only make him feel worse about himself in the end. He doesn't have a reason to care about how he looks anymore, he doesn't have a reason to continue trying.
Throwing on his hoodie, he rushes out of his bedroom door, contemplating saying bye to Kai. He'll see him in a few hours anyway for their first class, if not in the school halls, then once they're back at the apartment, and that's if Soobin doesn't lock himself back up in his room, which he's been pretty good about doing lately.
It's not that he doesn't necessarily want to talk to Kai, but carrying on a conversation takes a lot more time and effort than he's willing to put in. He needs time to himself, time to figure out what to do with his life and how to get all of his finances in order.
Money seems like a much easier concept when you're in high school lined up around folding tables with an imaginary balance to get you through the month. Some will excel; taking only the bare minimum and depositing the rest into savings, while others plunge every month, spending every penny they have until the next month comes, and then there's the ones who don't even make it through the month to begin with.
But it's all just a game, right?
He's tried everything, tried to rationalize his money, tried picking up shifts at work — anything that could possibly keep him afloat, because even his scholarships aren't enough to cover housing, food, and travel expenses. He's quickly sinking and no one around him seems to notice. At the end of the day, it's all his fault, he's the one who chose to not ask for help.
And maybe some days he does get tempted to text his family to ask for help, but he already knows how that will go down. He's a disappointment in their eyes and nothing he does will ever change that, no matter how much time he spends on his knees begging for their forgiveness.
He's the only person in his family that made it into college, but it wasn't easy, like everyone assumed it was. He busted his ass off every day studying, spending hours upon hours with his nose in his textbooks, forcing himself to stay awake long enough to mesmerize everything. He needed to pass with flying colors in order to get his scholarship, it was the only way he could leave his small town behind.
Now it's hard to tell if even that was worth it. Sure, there was nothing for him there, but at least he had people who pretended to care about him. He's never been this alone before, and it makes all of it seem worthless. He moved to a big city, got a job that he decently enjoys, and even got into a really good school, so why is he so damn unhappy still?
He grabs his worn gray bookbag off of the floor, throwing it over his shoulder with a huff. His laptop is much older than the ones people use now, weighing more in return, only adding to the pain in his back. He's contemplated renting a new one until the school year ends, but he has no idea where he would begin to find the money for that.
The conditioned air hits his face and he scrunches his nose, wanting to crawl back in bed already, but he knows there's no point in trying if he can't go back to sleep, and scrolling through social media only makes him feel more pathetic than he already does. Kai never has issues with making friends, making Soobin more jealous than he already is.
Jealousy.
It gnaws away at his peace of mind, turning all of his affection towards Kai into perceived betrayal. Kai doesn't truly care about him, there's no reason for him to, no reason for him to stay whatsoever. It's not like Soobin adds anything special to their relationship anyway, he's just Kai's poor friend that he drags along sometimes out of pity.
He exhales rather loudly, shaking his head to try and stop himself from thinking any further. He knows that Kai isn't like that – Kai has been his friend for the past few years now, and he would never do something like that to him, but the envy still burns in his chest like a fire regardless, refusing to let him believe otherwise.
But that's the thing about having anxiety, it makes you believe the worst in people, regardless of how good they are. It twists their kindness into something evil, turns their support into pity. It makes you believe that you're nothing more than a burden, a failure unworthy of any love. It twists everything, it corrupts everything.
He knows that logically, his thoughts are irrational, that Kai would never do anything to hurt him, that he genuinely cares about him, but logic doesn't matter right now. Anxiety isn't about logic, it's about feeling, and right now he feels utterly and devastatingly alone, trapped inside of a cage that he made for himself. All he can do is watch as everything he's ever cared about crumbles to dust around him.
The living room is dark from where the moon is still out, but he can see the faintest sliver of light leaking through the crack in Kai's door. Maybe part of it is so he can watch to see when Soobin wakes up, prepared to finish their conversation from last night, but neither of them planned for Soobin to wake up this early. The two hours of sleep is already getting to him, a slow pulsation making its way to his temple, spreading behind his eyes.
He inches closer to Kai's room, gently pushing the door open, tensing up in anticipation for the creaking that will sound through their apartment, but it never comes. He sighs when his eyes land on Kai, sprawled out on the bed with an arm lazily thrown over his face, the other dangling over the bed. Soobin almost has it in him to adjust how Kai is sleeping, but a conversation this early in the morning isn't something that he can deal with.
Soobin continues towards the front door, leaving Kai's door open in fear of it creaking if he attempts to shut it. He won't be home when Kai wakes up anyway, so it's not like he has to worry about accidentally waking the younger up. He goes to reach for the door handle when he notices a yellow piece of paper stuck to the door, folded once. He peels it off, frowning as he does so.
"I'm sorry about last night, I shouldn't have accused you like that. Please don't be mad at me. I'll order pizza for us later, if you're still up for it! :)"
The note should make him feel better, but it does the exact opposite. He was the one in the wrong, not Kai, and now he's making Kai feel guilty. It was never intentional, but how is he supposed to explain to the only person in the world who might possibly care about him that he's luring other men into bed just to steal from them? It sounds just as sick as it makes him feel.
Soobin carefully folds up the sticky note, tucking it into his pocket. It doesn't change his mind about leaving, but maybe he'll at least take Kai up on the pizza offer. He didn't eat last night, and he can already feel the hunger pains starting.
The wind outside isn't cold, but rather a misty humid that makes Soobin feel sticky. He's always been a huge fan of the rain, but not when it's humid, he would rather die than go outside just to feel sticky. He pulls his jacket hood over his head, shoving his hands inside of his pocket in an attempt to keep his entire body from getting drenched.
The bus stop isn't far from their apartment, maybe a three minute walk max, if he walks fast enough. The bus runs every half hour, giving him just enough time to get ready in the mornings and get out the door, though some days Kai will drive him. But today isn't one of those days. Despite them sharing a morning class together, he thinks it's best for both of them to take some space from each other, just until Soobin can slightly clear his head.
Soobin sits down on the edge of the bus stop bench, trying to blink away whatever residue of sleep is still stuck behind his eyes, his mind almost as sluggish at the heavy air around him. He can practically taste the rain from how humid it is, his shirt sticking to him like a damp cloth.
All of it feels so real, and it's one of the main reasons that he stopped listening to music in the mornings, focusing on the sounds of the city around him. The distant traffic blending in with the rain that rustles the leaves of the trees that sway with each gust of wind, it's all so surreal to him. He listens to this multiple times a week, but he'll never grow tired of it. He never got to listen to the city where he grew up, only on rare occasions when his mother would let him go with her to the store, but that was usually when she needed help carrying the groceries, never because he needed to get out of the house.
He can still smell the scent of fresh grass and dandelions.
Soobin would spend hours when he was a kid, running up and down the fields, making wishes to himself with each dandelion, praying that one day they would come true. News flash – they never did. But he would pick flowers for his mom, regardless of her uncaring about anything he gave her. It brought him comfort, picking out the most beautiful flowers for the woman he found to be the most beautiful. He admired her so much, and wanted to be like her in so many ways.
It's not that he grew up unloved by them, but the older he got, the busier they got, leaving Soobin behind and expecting him to catch up on his own.
And maybe somewhere along those lines, they realized they were better off without him altogether.
He isn't sure why he's here anymore. The thought isn't a suicidal one, not entirely, but more... existential. All he does is goes through the motions: he eats when he can afford to, he sleeps when his body will allow him to get rest, he goes to school, goes to his job, and every other day he plays the part of someone who finds their way all over any drunk man in a bar. He plays his part well, smiles with his dimples on full blown display, eyes roaming along their bodies in a way that he knows will make them cave, he even remembers the smallest details about them, brining it up in a later conversation to make the men feel heard, because it's that what we all want, right? To feel heard? The enthusiasm he shows is nothing more than borrowed emotions that he feels draining from himself as well.
But the question still gnaws. Why is he here?
Why is he at the bus stop on an early Tuesday morning? Why is he sitting here waiting on a bus when he could have very easily spent the last twenty minutes inside of his apartment waiting? He could have been mature, dealing with his and Kai's argument like an adult and talking to him, then riding with him to school. He'll blame it on the suffocating feeling that he's never going to be able to escape.
Soobin rubs his tired eyes, feeling the grit beneath his eyelids. It burns, but he doesn't stop. The humidity never ends, making his hair cling to his forehead no matter how many times he brushes it out of the way. He holds his hand out, allowing for a few stray drops to fall onto the back of his hand. If he didn't have class, he would sit under the rain for hours, letting it wash away every feeling he has until he eventually feels... less.
Headlights finally pierce through the darkness, the familiar rumble of bus number twenty-two growing louder as it stops in front of him. He breathes out a sigh of relief that sends a cloud of white into the air. He doesn't say anything as he gets on, no greetings towards anyone as he climbs inside, giving a quick flash of his transit pass against the scanner.
The driver looks a lot more tired than usual, barely glancing up from the wheel.
And the woman in the back? She's already settled in a seat, a soft glow coming from one of the bus lights, allowing for her to read, leaving her completely engrossed in whatever book it is that she's picked out this time. Soobin sits near the front, never too close to anyone. And when the bus lurches forward, leaving the empty bus stop behind, Soobin places both of his earbuds inside of his ears, drowning out all of the things around him.
He stares out the window, watching the blur of city lights streak past them. He knows that the bus driver will probably stop for coffee after he drops him off at the last stop, choosing the coffee shop at the corner store near his home, or at least that's what Soobin heard him saying once before. Soobin can't blame him, he would have to load up on coffee too in order to drive as much as this man does, especially the long hours that he drives.
Soobin also knows that the lady in the back will get off at the next bus stop, on Rock Street, and she'll walk the remaining two blocks to her apartment, using her worn out umbrella that has too many holes in it to count. At this point, it's pointless to use, the water seeping straight through the holes and leaving her drenched, but she once told Soobin that it was the only thing he had. Her place is small, a one room apartment right above the dry cleaners, paid for by her nightly waitress job. He knows these things about the people on the bus almost as well as he knows his own reflection.
He listens to them, he understands them. Meanwhile, they don't know the slightest thing about him. He's nothing more than another face on this bus, a silent passenger that seems to care about everyone else more than he'll ever care about himself. But the anonymity of it all is comforting to him, and he wouldn't have it any other way.
Soobin shifts so that the bag is now resting comfortably in his lap, watching as the lady gets off at the next stop, movements slow and careful, taking each step with caution. He truly hopes that things look up for her, that life spares her some sort or mercy and turns everything around for her. It's unfair that some of the kindest people go through the most.
The rest of the ride is spent with him staring out the window, watching as all of the trees pass by in a blur, not focusing on anything longer than a split second. When the bus finally does come to a stop in front of the university, he throws his bag over his shoulder once more, giving a few words of gratuity to the driver as he steps off, harsh rain droplets hitting against his face. He squints his eyes, jogging over towards the entrance of the library.
It's a tall building, one that was more than likely built a century ago, well before even his grandparents were thought of. The entire building is built with floor to ceiling glass, allowing for the people inside to see out, but not for outsiders to see in. It makes Soobin comfortable when he's studying at night knowing that random people aren't watching him. The steps leading to the entrance have a few cracks, but it's nothing that someone would notice if they weren't looking. They're wide, stone steps leading up to the massive double glass doors.
From here, the wind is blocked by the building, giving him a second to catch his breath before he has to open the door. He doesn't want to look like he's out of breath from simply running from the bus stop to here, although he is. Straightening up, he pushes open the door, listening to the loud chime erupting from the bell above, alerting the people at the desk that someone has walked in.
Eyes are immediately on him, and he feels himself tensing up as all the blood in his body goes to his face, undoubtedly turning him a sickening shade of pink. It's stupid how easily he gets embarrassed, he comes here all the time, it should be something that he's used to by now. They quickly go back to what they're doing, no longer paying Soobin any mind.
He walks past them, through the entrance hall and up the grand staircase. It's crafted from dark, polished wood that leads all the way up to the top floor, eight stories up, and if you take the exit staircase, you can get onto the roof. Soobin knows it's not something he's necessarily supposed to do, but when he can't clear his mind, he sometimes finds himself sitting up there, looking down at the other students as they mindlessly walk around campus.
The second floor of the library is where the coffee shop is, which also makes it the busiest floor of the library. But since they're open twenty-four hours a day, and it's barely five o' clock, there's no one around. The best part about it is that it's not a fancy chain restaurant, simply a small place where college students and teachers can recharge, making the prices slightly lower than their competitors.
And prices are always a crucial factor, given his current financial situation.
Soobin hesitates outside of the door for a long minute, keeping his hands inside of his jacket pocket where he knows that they'll remain warm, watching as the barista makes a drink, which Soobin assumes is for themselves. He's thought about applying here multiple times, but the fear of someone recognizing him and attempting to strike up a conversation with him makes him want to vomit. Though, if he doesn't get a raise soon, he might have to apply to other places.
He pushes open the door, only for a repeat of what happened earlier. The chime of a small bell announces his arrival, but this time the barista doesn't look up, continuing to steam the milk that's in the drink that they're still working on. The interior is nice, matching the rest of the library, and it's very spacious. He contemplates studying here while he waits for his class time to get closer.
The shop smells like freshly brewed coffee and pastries that he doesn't even bother to look at. He knows that food is a necessity, and that he shouldn't prioritize coffee over an actual meal, but coffee keeps him awake way longer than any sugary delicacy will. Besides, the warm coffee is more than enough to suppress the hunger for at least a little while.
He just needs something to hold him over until he can make it home.
"Do you know what you want?" A young woman asks him, her dark brown strands tucked neatly behind her ears. There's two hoop earrings on both of her ears, matching the sparkle in her eyes. There's a friendly smile that graces her face, watching each of Soobin's moves closely.
He swallows, looking around at the menu. He's never actually gotten something from here, but he didn't want to make coffee at the apartment, already knowing that the lousy machine would be sure to drag a half-sleepy Kai straight out of bed.
Everything on the menu looks so tempting, but also more expensive that he is willing to spend. He used to get the cappuccinos when Kai would go out with him, though he was never the one who paid. It always made him feel guilty for allowing Kai to pay for his things, yet he would never take the money back.
It was a vanilla cappuccino, and Soobin thought that it sounded absolutely disgusting, but he was quickly proved wrong. Kai would occasionally bring him one after school, but it's been awhile since Soobin has been home at the same time Kai got back.
"Black coffee is fine," he mumbles, avoiding her eye contact. She's cheerful, practically bouncing around behind the counter as she grabs a cup, filling it up before he can even tell her what size. The large is only a little bit more than the small, and it would last longer, but everything counts. "Actually, could we make that a small?" he feels like an idiot when he turns around, cup already half filled. "I'm sorry."
She shakes her head, filling it up the rest of the way. "No, it's alright," she gives him a smile, her white teeth almost blinding. "You look exhausted, so I'll just charge you for a small. Sound good?"
He nods, counting the bills out carefully, handing them to her with shaky hands. "Thank you," he says quietly, glancing at her name tag. "Hana."
"Of course, hon. And refills are free on black coffee, so feel free to come back up when you need one."
Whatever she put in her coffee this morning, Soobin needs the same thing. She's a human version of the energizer bunny if it was overdosed on caffeine, moving around faster than Soobin can think.
She grabs the rag on the counter beside her, spraying some antiseptic from a clear bottle onto the counter, wiping up the droplets of coffee that splattered outside of the recyclable cup. His heart flutters, both with relief and slight guilt. Free refills on black coffee isn't necessarily ideal, but it's something that he can afford, and something that will keep him awake.
He makes himself comfortable on one of the recliners next to the window, staring out at the rain which has now significantly increased, blurring the outside world completely. He stares at the droplets of rain as they slam against the glass, slowly trailing their way down before another raindrop replaces them, following in the same path. There's not long until the sun will begin to peek beyond the horizon, covering the campus with vivid layers of orange and yellow.
The seat that he's in is tucked away into the corner, allowing him to settle down and pull out his textbook without worry of being bothered by other students, though no one else here has really talked to him. Occasionally someone will ask to borrow his notes or for some help with their homework, but they never talk to him again after that. And Soobin is too nice to know how to tell people no, letting himself get taken advantage of at every given opportunity.
Soobin takes a sip of the coffee, it's bitter and strong, with a taste that it's the most pleasant, but the warmth that spreads through him very easily balances that out. It momentarily quiets the rumbling in his stomach, allowing him to relax more in the chair.
He's always been good at science, but as he stares down at the chapter about thermodynamics, he finds himself reading the definition of the same word multiple times, the letters swimming before his eyes. He understands this, but his mind keeps drawing a complete blank no matter how many times he rereads the words on the page. The black ink stares back at him, mocking him as his eyes dance across the page once more.
Another sip of coffee, another grimace at the bitterness that glides down the back of his throat, doing nothing to help him focus. If anything, his mind just wanders more, thinking about every little thing going on around them. He watches Hana again as he continues to clean up around the equipment, laughing along with one of her other coworkers. Soobin has never had that type of relationship with anyone that he's worked with, never trusted anyone enough to let them in.
And back comes the jealous feeling burning in his chest.
He's lonely all the time. He doesn't have anyone that he can talk with about all the things that are going on in his life, no one that he can truly confide in. There's no one he can spend hours studying with without fear of being taken advantage of again, so he chooses to study on his own. There's nothing that he can do with anyone that would allow him to be himself and to be comfortable.
Focus, Soobin.
He shakes his head, looking back down at the textbook, the words blurring once more. Soobin sighs, wrapping his arm around himself in an attempt to bring himself some sort of comfort, to provide himself with some form of skinship. The only time people ever touch him is when they're planning on ruining him, too drunk to realize Soobin isn't as into it as they are.
Soobin holds onto himself tighter, wincing at the dull, throbbing ache that radiates from his left side, right beneath his ribs. He pauses for a moment, trying to think about why he could be in pain. His mattress is firm, but not enough to make him feel this type of pain. He prods at the area through his shirt, a sharp, stinging pain shooting through him.
He gasps, pulling his hand away as if it burns.
Suddenly, the free refills don't matter anymore as he quickly shoves all of his belongings inside of his bag, not worried about the mess that he'll end up having to clean later. Right now he needs to get the hell away from everyone and to find the nearest restroom.
There's a small bye coming from one of the baristas, but Soobin doesn't have it in him to turn around and say bye back, rushing down the stairs so fast that it's a mystery how he doesn't fall and hit his face on the tile. Any normal person with legs shaking as bad as his would take the stairs, but he's in too much of a rush to think it through. The stairs are a lot faster, though not safer.
Downstairs, he practically busts down the door to the family restroom, needing as much privacy as he can get. He's positive that no one will be in the men's restroom, but it's not a risk that he's willing to take. He throws the empty cup of coffee into the trash can, the sound of the lock sounding through the empty bathroom as he locks the door behind him.
He leans against the cool sink, his breathing coming in much faster than it was a few moments prior. For the first time in a minute, he looks up at his reflection in the cracked mirror, holding back the urge to throw up. He looks much paler than he recalls, the circles under his eyes more prominent. He looks almost as defeated as he feels.
With a long and deep breath, he lifts up his shirt. "Shit," he breathes out, looking down at the bruise blooming on his side. "No, no, no." It's a dark blue and purple mark, standing out against his pale skin, and it'll be almost impossible to hide over the next few weeks. It's bigger than any mark that's ever been left behind before, making him sick to his stomach. His eyes burn with tears that threaten to roll down his cheek at any moment.
He feels as though he's been marked, like he's suddenly the property of someone he'll never know.
He's never slept with them before, which makes it much easier to forget the feelings of their hands against his skin, but this? The bruise will last a while, forcing him to remember it on a daily basis. He continues to stare at himself in the mirror, his eyes wide and filled with disgust. The person looking back at him is not the person he used to be, not even a shell of him. This version of him is empty, attempting to fill every void in his life with moments of connection that are built on nothing but money and lies.
Soobin lowers his shirt, the fabric brushing against his skin on the way down. He wants to scrub himself clean, to grab a rag and rub his skin until it is red and raw, bleeding from how hard he's tried to erase the memory.
There's a wave of nausea that makes its way towards his throat, a burning pain that comes up excruciatingly slow. He's always been able to compartmentalize his actions, telling himself that these people are wealthy, snobby, undeserving of anything that they own. Why is it fair for them to have no much when others have nothing? They won't miss the money anyway, so he's technically just taking what he deserves.
He feels a burning shame seeping into his skin. He's a thief and a coward, preying on the vulnerability of anyone who will allow him to. His arms wrap around himself tightly, trying to contain himself, the pressure sending another sharp pain through him. It's a fitting punishment for his actions.
There's no warning as bile erupts from his throat, making it to the toilet with just seconds to spare before he's gagging on stomach acid. If his body wasn't shaking before, it is now, struggling to keep himself propped up on his knees, elbows resting against the disgusting toilet seat. Anything that was left inside of his stomach is now long gone, the coffee included. He's felt guilty multiple times before, but it's never been this bad, never made him feel this disgusted with himself. He wants to get rid of everything, of every bit of shame and guilt that makes him feel this way, but it's only the consequences of his own actions.
After a few minutes, he finally manages to lean back against the wall, tears rolling freely down his skin. He doesn't understand how his life came to be like this, how he used to have so much hope for his future, but now there's... nothing. Life crushed him, destroyed him in more ways than anyone could ever imagine, grinding him down until he forgot who his former self used to be.
His head leans back against the wall, eyes falling closed. He hates his life – he hates himself. He hates looking at himself in the mirror, hates the shame that seems to constantly surround him. He needs for everything to stop, for him to escape everything even if it's only for a small amount of time. His knees are pulled to his chest, arms wrapping around them tightly.
He brings one hand to his mouth to cover the sound of his crying, the uncontrollable tears running down his cheek faster than he's able to wipe them. There's barely enough time between gasps for him to be able to catch his breath, letting his head fall down to his knees, rocking himself back and forth.
There's no telling when this loneliness started, when he started to realize that he truly is alone in this world, but everyday it hurts a little bit more. There's no one who believes in him when he doubts himself, he's always alone. There's a small urge in him to call Kai, despite it being so early, because he needs someone. He needs something to take away all of these emotions that he's feeling. He needs to know that there's one person in this world that is with him, even if he knows that deep down, it's not true.
But Kai is too nice, too innocent to ever understand how Soobin is feeling. He's optimistic, looking out at the world with hearts in his eyes, and there's no way that Soobin could ever bring himself to destroy that. He doesn't want to ruin Kai's spirit with his own past. So, he decides on keeping it all inside like he always does, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself down.
"Okay," he breathes out, closing his eyes. He inhales deeply through his nose, holding it before he exhales, long and steadily. The act is repeated multiple times over the next few minutes, taking a while before he's able to calm himself down a decent amount, not trusting himself to get off of the floor quite yet. "You're okay, Soobin."
Something about reminding himself that he's okay makes him feel the slightest bit better. It's not much, but it's a small thing that he's able to control. And right now, control is all that he needs.
He pulls his phone out of his pocket with shaky hands, squinting at the brightness that he failed to turn down easier, resulting in him getting blinded for a second time this morning. He manages to lower it, staring down at the time on his phone, now reading closer to seven in the morning, leaving him with an hour left until his class starts. An hour left until he has to face Kai and explain to him why he left so early in the morning.
The phone is dropped down onto the tile floor, screen still unlocked.
His fingers dig into his hair, the sharp pain a distraction from the aching feeling in his chest that only amplifies with each passing second, making him feel like he's being crushed. This shouldn't be so hard. Why can't he be normal like everyone else? He feels dizzy, tired, and disoriented, but he still needs to make it through the day.
There's a part of him that wants to scream, to lash out at every person who failed to notice how much he's hurting, to get rid of the silence that he's learned to find comfort in. But he's too far drained for any of that, every bit of energy that he once had is now gone. He can't manage to do anything other than go through the motions as if he's some robot.
Time passes by him quickly, and he's sure that the time for his class to start is approaching quickly, much quicker than he would like. He's overwhelmed, nauseous, and he feels like he could pass out at any second, but he needs to get to class. He needs to keep his grades up, to keep his scholarship. His breathing is heavy still, but it's nothing that he can't blame on running across the campus.
He sits for a few seconds longer, listening to the building around him humming, the air conditioner working as background noise. Part of him wants to sit here for the rest of the day, to avoid any interactions that he might run into, but he knows that he can't. He's still curled into a ball, face hidden in his knees, but he's not trying to fight the panic that once consumed him.
Soobin pushes himself off of the bathroom floor, using the wall behind him to keep himself balanced. His muscles ache, head spinning while simultaneously throbbing, eyes swollen and red. It's obvious that he's been crying, but it's nothing that a few splashes of cold water can't help.
He flushes the toilet before unsteadily walking over towards the sink, looking back at his face, cheeks stained with tear streaks. He looks like a ghost, pinching the skin on his face to try and bring some color back to it. He can't tell if he's always been this pale or if it's a new thing that no one has bothered to tell him about. But the eye bags? Those are definitely on the newer end.
The faucet is turned on, the water flowing down steadily as it begins to heat up. It's shockingly cold, and Soobin doesn't have the patience to wait as he cups the water in his shaky hands, spilling some of it onto the counter as he runs it over his face, feeling it seep into his pores.
At least now he's being cleaned superficially.
He knows that he's not okay, he's far from it. It won't be long until the anxiety is back, until it's gnawing at him again, slowly consuming him whole. It likes to lurk in the shadows of his mind, coming out when it's the most inconvenient time. But for now, he only needs to focus on getting through his classes.
The first one is with Kai, which will thankfully give him some form of distraction for at least an hour, two at max if they spend their break together, which Kai might go, given their current circumstance. Kai isn't one to leave an argument unsettled. Soobin, however? He would avoid the entire thing.
He doesn't want to have a conversation with Kai if it's going to be about last night. He wants to forget about everything that transpired between the two, to pretend like it never happened to begin with. But he knows Kai won't let him off the hook that easily. If he's lucky, he can give Kai a half-assed apology and they'll be fine.
Soobin takes another deep breath, staring at himself as he pulls his bag over his shoulders. There's a little bit more color to his face now that he's pinched the skin a few times. He forces a smile, trying to see how he looks to others. It doesn't look believable, not to him at least, but it seems like everyone around him has been believing it pretty well the past few months.
Another sigh passes his lips, shaking his head at himself. He mumbles to himself, reaching for the door handle.
"Get a fucking grip, Soobin."