A/N:

Call me queen of procrastinating haha XD
I had this "one-shot" idea lying around in my head for a while. On Friday I thought "Hm, I want to write it finally!" and so I started. It became 20 pages long yesterday and it's far from over - I think - because I still have some ideas here and there. But the most important thing: I have some pages stored so I can update when I feel like it haha.
This is sort of part 1, the introduction of Nam Woohyun so to say. There will be flashbacks from time to time, but this chapter has none. (I cut it off right where the flashback would come. I'm so evil, hit me.)

Normally I don't upload something without a poster, but Idk how fast the shop will be and you are all so -hits you with fluffy pillows- yeah.

It is mainly Woogyu like you are used to hearing from me haha, but somehow Yongguk made his way in as the rich contenter, so have fun with this rather angsty piece of art. Comment lots or I will hunt you down /aegyo attack/
 

The music in the club is loud. Way too loud. It’s humanly impossible to listen to someone speaking right into your ear, because the music is drowning even the loudest sounds. It’s the kind of music that always plays in clubs. There is no sense to the lyrics, just the same words getting repeated again and again. Everything inside the club is vibrating from the strong bass and it certainly helps to make the already dizzy crowd even more lost. Bodies are pressed against other bodies to find some kind of balance or orientation – an anchor of sorts – so the music won’t swallow you whole. Everyone needs someone or something to lean on, so they won’t fall over and lose consciousness, but it’s all hidden behind the façade of a dance. They are too tired to dance, but too scared of losing their way if they were to leave. It’s in the nature of humans to stick to other humans when they feel danger. And the music is a danger of sorts, mixed with the alcohol and other forbidden substances that were served along with it. The whole room smells forbidden, but no one cares or notices. They are busy keeping up with the lazy dance moves to hide how far gone they are.

He’s in the middle of everything and he is not better than anyone else. Even when he opens his eyes, the things he sees are but a blurry mirror of the reality. He knows that he is in a club and there are bodies surrounding him from all sides, a chest against his back, thighs against foreign thighs, someone is leaning against his chest, but he is not sure if that person is unconscious or still moving. He has no time to wonder about that. He needs to concentrate to keep his body working. Clubs are a game and you lose if you are blacking out.

The music changes to another annoying tune. It’s buzzing right in his ears, frying his brain cells and then spitting them out. He feels the ground sway under his feet – or is his body swaying? – and one of his pillars of support is gone in the next moment. One person down, but it doesn’t take long for another girl to fill the empty spot. He opens his eyes because a scent of vanilla fills his nostrils – an almost nostalgic scent from long ago. He pulls the girl closer to his body and she doesn’t mind. Her hip is grinding against his and the smell is so strong, so close. He feels like the scent crawling down his throat and slowly suffocating him, making him choke on memories.

“Su-“

Suddenly, the song stops and silence falls on them. It feels like a punch in the gut after the mind-blowing noise before. He staggers backwards, clumsily pushing the person behind him back as well. “Sorry…”

“The club closes now, guys. Get home safe.” The DJ tells them and everyone makes disappointed noises.

“You okay there, Nam?” The other guy asks.

He manages a half-steady nod and blinks a few times to clear his sight. It’s suddenly easier to see, to breathe and feel, now that the music is gone. The crowd on the dance floor is quickly dispersing too. “Never been better. Great party.”

“All thanks to you, dude!” Another voice says. Woohyun doesn’t know the name. Has he even talked to him before?

The walk to the bar is short – luckily. He hopes no one sees how bad he feels inside and how hard it is for him to stay on his feet. His head is still drumming from the music and although he had little to drink, Woohyun feels like he wants to throw up. Some people pat his shoulder before they leave.

“Thanks for the drinks, Nam!” Who are you?

“Let’s party again!” Sure.

“You are the best friend one can possibly have!” You mean my wallet, don’t you?

“The tab is on you, right?” Like always.

“You are the best!” I’m not.

“Indeed, no party without Nam Woohyun!” I’m tired.

“Man, I wish I had money like you!” If only you knew.

In the end, he is the last person left in the club – not counting the barkeeper slash owner of course. The older guy gives him a worried glance that Woohyun barely catches. He feels empty and worn-out. “You know those people just hang out with you because you have money.”

Shut up.

“They will drop you as soon as you aren’t paying their drinks anymore.”

I know that. So what? I just have to go on and don’t stop. Everyone loves me. Everyone looks up to me. This is all I need. I’m using them like they use me.

He doesn’t want any friends.

He wants to be loved.




Woohyun returns home with an empty wallet, a bad headache and a bitter aftertaste on his tongue. The scent of vanilla is still lingering on his skin and everywhere in the air. The girl from the dance floor found him again once he left the club and they had a little fun in one of the alleys - though he would hardly call it fun. But he couldn’t turn the girl who smells like vanilla away. She reminded him of his past, of a better time and of someone he no longer was.

Who is he now? Woohyun doesn’t know.

He closes the door behind his back and stumbles down the short hallway. The wood is squeaking under his feet, but he is already used to the sound, so he doesn’t react. After the short hallway, he is already in his living room slash bedroom slash kitchen. The apartment doesn’t have any more rooms - just this one, the bath and the small corridor to his door. The room has one window, but it’s dirty and you can barely see the outside world through it, but Woohyun doesn’t care about that. He never looks out of it anyways. It’s just there to spend light, even if it’s dimmed light.

The whole apartment is dark, but he doesn’t bother on finding the light switch because it isn’t going to work anyways. He’s behind on his payment for electricity, water and gas. Woohyun carefully takes of the expensive black fur coat and folds it with precision before putting it on the only chair he owns. He immediately starts to feel how cold and the man shivers. He pressed his teeth together as he takes of the white shirt. He takes extra care of it because it is made out of silk and one of the most expensive shirts he owns. He puts it on a hanger and hangs it into his wardrobe. There are more shirts of all colors and designs; everything wears names of important brand names that most people only know from the distance. The freezing air hits his skin and lets goosebumps appear all over it, but Woohyun pays no heed to it and continues with his black pants. He finds a stain on it while he folds it and the man thrashes it into a corner of the room. He lets out a shout in anger and grabs his hair in frustration.

It’s ruined! I can’t use it again…

I have to buy a new one.

Woohyun groans and staggers towards the mattress on the ground. He drops on his knees and rolls his body into the blanket. The fabric is cold, but he knows it will turn warm soon enough. His head finds the pillow and he closes his eyes, trying to find sleep. It’s absolute silence in his apartment, but it’s not silent in his head. He keeps worrying how the stain got onto his pants and how he is going to pay for a new one. The month is far from over and he has already paid a lot for that bag from Italy. He wonders how many meals he will have to skip, wonders if the money will be enough to pay for the rent next month, wonders if he can even go to one more party without overdrawing his bank account.

Not once does he ask himself if the new pair of pants can wait or if he should refund the bag.

This is the truth about Nam Woohyun

He is not rich:

Woohyun is a poor college student, who barely makes it by the end of the month every time. He works several part time jobs to buy all the brand stuff he owns. He has been buying those expensive items for years and has neglected other things for it, like food, sleep or paying his bills.

He doesn’t live in a big mansion with butlers and maids following his every wish:

He lives at the corner of Seoul where only the scum resides. His flat is small and the bathroom is close to the size of a public toilet stall. In theory, he could shower and use the toilet at the same time. He can’t afford more than that.

His parents don’t own famous companies:

His parents are dead and even before that they were both two nobodies. His father drank a lot and never had a job, while his mother had to overwork herself to feed the family.

Why all the lies? Why not put his money into more important things?

Woohyun has been poor his whole life. He has experienced how poor people are treated by those who have more. All his life he had been nothing but a shadow - a being barely worth living in the eyes of others. He had been called bum, beggar, cockroach and useless piece of so many times. Growing up without his parents’ love and losing all of his friends had made him lonely and bitter, but Woohyun had also learned something. The more money you had, the more people respected you.

He couldn’t change the fact that he is poor, so he just became a rich man on the surface. He dresses himself in expensive clothes, buys the newest and hottest stuff to show off. Woohyun pays the drinks of people he has never met before and it works like a miracle. Suddenly, everyone loves him and he is in the spotlight no matter where he goes. People look at him with envy in their eyes. He feels strong when he notices their gazes o