And now we have the next installment of my FOB collection!

 

I lost Folie a Deux off my iTunes for awhile and just recently got it back; I missed that album SO MUCH.

 

Also, this is pretty angsty for posting on Myungsoo's birthday--but he's the main character this time, so yay! (?) lol

 

SLIGHT trigger warnings: Alcoholism, , self-harm, and suicide--these are all touched on, but not explicitly shown. Still going to warn everyone.

 

Enjoy!

 

---

Disloyal Order of Water Buffalos

 

I'm coming apart at the seams

Pitching myself for leads in other people's dreams now

Buzz, buzz, buzz

Doc, there's a hole where something was

Doc, there's a hole where something was

 

Life had never quite worked out well for Myungsoo. Abandoned as a child, the young boy found himself surviving his childhood years bouncing from foster home to foster home, school to school. He was a quiet child, sensitive, observant, unable to trust easy, and just overall unlucky in life.

 

Once he began growing into his looks, suddenly the quiet boy in the background was noticed wherever he went--at school, on the streets, even in his own state-sponsored foster home. The night the boy was cornered by his supposed-foster mother and had her force herself upon him, Myungsoo began to realize just how ed up the world really was.

 

From that night on--and after he had packed his meager belongings and left that hellhole of a foster house--the young man cut himself off from the world emotionally. Physically, he took a job at a neighborhood cafe to manage renting a meager room and food. The man mostly kept to himself except when (mostly female) customers asked him questions (many of which he just humored until he could hand them their drinks and have them move on with their lives).

 

The cafe owner picked up on Myungsoo’s penchant for playing the guitar and offered to let the man play on nights when he wasn’t needed behind the counter. The ability to sit on the stage and lose himself in the strings of his guitar was incredibly therapeutic for the younger man and the owner let him keep any tips he was given during his performances.

 

At first, Myungsoo mostly covered popular songs or took requests from the audience. As time moved on though, the young man felt himself devising new rhythms and humming strings of original notes and all he needed were lyrics for the music in his mind.

 

But what could he write about? It’s not like he could sing silly love songs--when had he ever even experienced love in his lifetime? No, he couldn’t write about that type of emotion. But there were a host of others he could tap into: loneliness, betrayal, hopelessness, abandonment…

 

Unfortunately, Myungsoo’s songwriting soon got his mind enraptured in memories of the very things he had tried to forget over the years. And the only way the young man could make them stop was after a few bottles of soju, vodka, or whatever else he could get his hands during the night.

 

Fell out of bed,

Butterfly bandage, but don't worry

You'll never remember, your head is far too blurry.

Put him in the back of a squad car restrain that man

He needs his head put through a catscan

Hey editor, I'm undeniable!

Hey doctor, I'm certifiable!

 

After falling off his secondhand mattress in the late morning hungover, Myungsoo knew the day was going to be another show--he just had no idea how much. With the day off from both the cafe and performing, the young man headed over to a BBQ restaurant in his neighborhood where he could attempt to write and the young waitress with a crush on him always kept the soju bottles full.

 

The rest of the night was a blur... a group of raucous college students came in, arguments were started when Myungsoo told them to shut up, and punches were thrown. Myungsoo remembered the police officers shoving him into the car, cuffs around his wrists, and a drunk and disorderly charge hanging over his head.

 

Considering Myungsoo’s sordid past, along with a few minor convictions in the past when he was still on the streets, the young man found himself then paraded in front of a judge, a half-assed defense from a public attorney, and now taking a plea deal ending with him checking into a rehab for his supposed-addiction.

 

I'm a loose bolt of a complete machine

What a match, I'm half doomed and you're semi-sweet

 

Myungsoo thought he had it all under control--his thoughts, his emotions, his actions. He knew exactly how to control those aspects of himself and make sure no one else could manipulate him. Sure, sometimes the liquor helped that, but he still considered himself truly in power. He could stop whenever he wanted.

 

And he did, finishing his court-mandated term in rehab and released back into “society,” not that the young man cared either way.

 

Yet, a few weeks later, Myungsoo found himself in front of the judge once again, this time sentenced to another rehab, another treatment program. To fix his, quote, drinking and anger problem.

 

Alcohol wasn’t his problem, the man believed--the damn world was.

 

So boycott love

Detox just to retox

And I'd promise you anything for another shot at life

And perfect boys with their perfect lives

Nobody wants to hear you sing about tragedy

(Wants to hear you sing about tragedy)

 

It didn’t take long for Myungsoo to figure out how to turn these forced rehab stints to his advantage. He had always been able to fake the needed emotions to get him through an group therapy or one-on-one counseling session--even if his stays in rehab were slowly turning into a revolving door of check-ins and check-outs.

 

The counselors and doctors would always try to probe deeper to find Myungsoo’s magical reason why, but the young man knew just the right combination of stories about his abandoned childhood and his lost youth on the streets and in the system… All the while working his way in and out of every program to head back down the bottle and continue his same existence.

 

The only good thing about all this was that Myungsoo could continue his songwriting--the counselors always saw his music as an outlet for him.

 

...If only he could get the songs he wrote to quit being about the darkness the young man had lived through.

 

Little girl, you got me staring odd

Or was that just a telescopic camera nod

Painted dolls in the highway truckstop stalls

Lot lizard scales cool your nightlife moods

All the rookies leave your badge and your gun on the desk

when you leave the room

I'm a loose bolt of a complete machine

What a match, I'm half doomed and you're semi-sweet

 

This latest rehab stint was far, far different from others. The judge this time seemed exhausted just by reading Myungsoo’s file and previous case record. Instead of the typical rehabilitation stay, the judge mandated a longer treatment program, one at a different facility than Myungsoo had been to before and for a longer period. The judge’s warning rang clear: “This is probably your last shot, Myungsoo-shi.”

 

Sure, was the only thought the young man had.

 

But his stay at this facility was already different from the other’s; Myungsoo was unpacking his meager belongings, guitar propped against his bed, as the door to his room--mandated this way--showcased his actions to the hallway. He had glanced into the room across from his own--kept fairly neat, with brightly colored paintings on two of the walls, a few mystery novels lying on the nightstand--but saw no sign of the neighbor across from him.

 

It didn’t take long for Myungsoo to hear movements behind him though and he turned to face the hallway once again, now finding a tall man, with beautifully bright chocolate eyes, plump cheeks, and a wide smile nodding in his direction.

 

“Can I help you?” Myungsoo asked, glancing at the tall man.

 

The tall man’s smile grew larger, his gums now showing, as he laughed aloud. “Just checking out my new neighbor,” the man said.

 

Myungsoo stood tall--damn, this guy was still taller than him. “You’re the person across the hall?”

 

The man only smiled, nodding his head. “Welcome to the Third Ward. We’re going to get to know each other pretty well.”

 

Yeah right, Myungsoo thought.

 

Boycott love

Detox just to retox

And I'd promise you anything for another shot at life

And perfect boys with their perfect lives

Nobody wants to hear you sing about tragedy

(Wants to hear you sing about tragedy)

 

Turns out that the taller man’s words--Sungyeol, as Myungsoo quickly found out his name--only proved to be true. The “Third Ward” as it was known, proved to be the most intensive rehabilitation treatment program Myungsoo had ever been a part of. His usual tricks didn’t seem to work with the counselors, either in a group setting or one-on-one; instead, he found himself actually having to participate honestly, something he never considered he would have to do.

 

And maybe it helped a little. He was finding it not so hard to look past some of his own memories, not feeling the same calls he used to feel towards finding another shot to calm his thoughts. He was able to continue his songwriting and playing, encouraged by both the counselors and the few other members of their ward.

 

Sungyeol in particular seemed to have taken a liking to the dark young man. It maybe was a proximity thing, the both of them being only across the hall from one another, but Myungsoo found himself enjoying the bright company of the taller man. In their freetime between group and individual counseling, Sungyeol usually perched around Myungsoo with one of his books or just laid around, listening as Myungsoo continued to play the instrument.

 

“Why are all your songs so sad?” Sungyeol asked one day, glancing at the other man from the couch.

 

Myungsoo shrugged. “You know how ty my life’s been,” he replied. “What else am I supposed to sing about?”

 

“I don’t know,” the taller man replied. “But you have such a nice voice. It’s a shame that I only hear it sing sad songs. Not all of us want to hear about tragedy.”

 

Myungsoo could only watch wordlessly as the taller man walked towards their rooms.

 

Detox

Just to retox

Detox

Just to retox

Detox

Just to retox

Detox

Just to retox

 

“Sungyeol?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“You seem to have been here awhile.”

 

The taller man nodded from the opposite end of the couch. “About six months.”

 

“What are you even here for? You don’t seem to have any problems like some of us do.”

 

Sungyeol smiled softly. “Suicide watch.”

 

Myungsoo started; he definitely hadn’t expected that from his always-smiling neighbor. “But why for six months?”

 

“It’s not my first time,” Sungyeol said casually.

 

He then rolled up the sleeves of his sweater--come to think of it, Myungsoo had always seen the other man in a sweater or jacket since he arrived--only to see lines and lines of pink scars, still incredibly prominent, but all healed over.

 

“We all have our problems, Myungsoo. Some of us can get over it easier though.”

 

Detox (So boycott love)

Just to retox

Detox (Boycott love)

Just to retox

Detox (Boycott love)

Just to retox

Detox (Boycott love)

Just to retox

 

“But why--what could make someone like you--”

 

Sungyeol snorted. “Someone like me? Like what, Myungsoo?”

 

“So bright!” He exclaimed. “So happy, so full of life! I always thought nothing could take that smile from your face.”

 

“I thought he loved me,” Sungyeol said, glancing at his arms before rolling his sleeves back down. “And every time he proved me wrong, I tried to escape it and then suddenly he was there again, ready to make me believe again.”

 

“He played you.”

 

Sungyeol chuckled lowly. “Maybe. But I was in love.”

 

“Love is just sick,” Myungsoo sighed.

 

“Not when you’re in it. Sometimes love can be what you need to change,” Sungyeol replied.

 

Myungsoo sat up straight. “Are you still in love with him then? That’s insane, Sungyeol!”

 

“I’m not in love with him anymore; I’m not a fool,” the taller man said. “But just because he was an absolute bastard doesn’t mean I’m just going to give up on love.”

 

“Looking for love in this damn world just seems to bring us all more pain,” Myungsoo sighed.

 

“It brought us both here though,” Sungyeol said. “I never would have gotten to meet you otherwise, Myungsoo.”

 

“And as nice as that’s been, what does meeting here in a damn rehab center do for us in the end?” Myungsoo asked, looking over at Sungyeol seated quietly next to him.

 

Sungyeol remained silently, suddenly leaning closer to peck his lips against the dark-haired man’s quickly.

 

“I can think of a few good things,” he said with another bright smile. Myungsoo couldn’t help but feel his lips forming a matching one.

 

So boycott love (Boycott love)

Detox just to retox

And I'd promise you anything for another shot at life

And perfect boys with their perfect lives

Nobody wants to hear you sing about tragedy

(Wants to hear you sing)

Nobody wants to hear you sing about tragedy

(Wants to hear you sing about tragedy)

---

At least it ended on a happy note, right? I may have a double-update treat (it is Soo's birthday after all, and we're age-twins, so he deserves it), so be ready! If not, it should be up soon. I have quite a few songs set to do and a few more fully thought out ideas; just need to get them on paper.

Leave a comment on the way out! <3