⎛ Part One ⎠

Labeled: the worst way to live your life.

Well, to Cheolyong, that was that case. He was dubbed the class clown of the second year class in his school, only because he was known for being funny when he was drunk or high. But that was the thing, he was only funny when drunk or high. Typically, he was both, but that didn’t matter. He didn’t fit in with the class clowns, because he did nothing that made him really fit in there. Sure, he was in the detention room almost all of the time, but that was only because he was getting caught sleeping in class or cheating off other people’s papers because he hadn’t studied the night before, since he was too busy getting trashed.

He didn’t have good grades. He used to, before he became best friends with the Lee Joon. Well, Joon wasn’t his real name, but only people closest to him could call him by his real name. Cheolyong wasn’t quite there yet, but he was close enough to get a nickname from the iest burn out on the face of the planet.

“Yo, Mir, pass me the joint,” Joon called, tipping the rest of his alcoholic beverage into his mouth before holding his hand out for the joint. Cheolyong took one long drag, sudden adrenaline pulsing through his veins, and then passed the joint to his friend’s awaiting hand. “Kid, you’re seriously messed up. I thought you were supposed to be funny.”

“I am funny, it’s not my fault your funnier.”

“What do you mean?”

“You look like , man.”

“Have you looked in a mirror lately?”

It was true. Cheolyong looked like a mess. He was drunk off his and higher than the Empire State Building, or whatever that building that was taller than that one was called; he couldn’t remember. He bounced his legs, his eyes darting around the room, glaring at anything that seemed suspicious. And to him, Joon’s closed eyes as he on the joint was very suspicious.

“The hell are you doing!?” Cheolyong shouted, smacking the joint from Joon’s hand, making him drop the bottle that was empty, glass shattering on the floor in between them. Joon just stared, then slowly pointed towards the door. He put up with Cheolyong enough for one night, and with an air of defiance, Cheolyong stomped out of the house into Joon’s backyard.

The world spun around him as he stumbled towards the front of Joon’s house, using the building as his support. He could’ve sworn he saw a horse next to him, but he had to be ting himself. It was the drugs, he was totally not actually seeing a horse. Or was he? He glanced to his side, and then at that point he was sure he was seeing this due to hallucinations from the drugs. The horse know had Joon’s head. Either Joon was secretly a centaur or Cheolyong was seriously messed up. For some reason, he hoped it was the latter.

He didn’t even realize that he stumbled into the street until tires squealed next to him, headlights flashing in his eyes. Cheolyong squinted at the car in front of him, then smiled widely and waved. Centaur-Joon was in the passenger seat, waving his horse hoof at him.

Hyunwoo stared at the kid in front of his, his eyes glazed over and waving at his car as if he saw something. Hyunwoo looked to the passenger seat, blinked at nothing, and then slowly climbed from his car.

“Kid, did you do drugs?”

Cheolyong nodded.

“How much?”

“A lot,” Came the answer, the ‘l’ being dragged out much more than needed.

“Get in my car.”

“Alright, mister centaur-driving-sir.”

Cheolyong climbed into the back seat of Hyunwoo’s car, curled up in the seat, and promptly passed out. Hyunwoo just drove to his house, set and determined to take care of this kid, even if he was drunk and high off of God knows what. Hyunwoo sighed as he pulled into his driveway, then tugged the sleeping teen from the car, tossing him over his shoulder before bringing him into the house. He set him on the couch, pulled a blanket over him, and then shuffled sleepily up to his room.

The kid could wait until tomorrow.

⎛ end ⎠