Revenge is Sweet
Description
Six boys growing up together. They'd always been together, gone to hell and back together, and always stuck by each other. Unfortunately, growing up in the most dismal of situations doesn't do much for one's psychological growth, and each had dealt with their lives in their own way.
19-year-old Hakyeon, otherwise known as N, and 17-year-old Jaehwan, otherwise known as Ken, tended to be on the more crazy side. They did whatever they could to get rid of their dark surroundings by cracking jokes and being cheerful. All. The freaking. Time.
16-year-old Hongbin was emotional. That's the first word any of them would use to describe him. He tried hard, he really did, but growing up as they did made him more sensitive than most. This didn't help the bullying situation at school.
16-year-old Wonshik, known as Ravi, was the one who was going to make it. He would go to college, get his degree, and make something of his life. He ignored their surroundings and the constant reminders that no one cared about them and concentrated only on schoolwork, jobs, and applications.
15-year-old Sanghyuk, shortened to simply Hyuk, had reverted to drugs by the time he hit the age of 12. He spent his days in a perpetual state of drug-addled and no matter how often the others yelled at him, how many times he was thrown out of class, or how many times he promised to clean himself up, he still went back to it.
And 18-year-old Taekwoon, or Leo...well, Leo wasn't just quiet. He was angry, always angry. He was careful never to let it out or bring it into the open, but it was always there. Always simmering just beneath the surface.
Foreword
A piercing scream that no one would hear cut through the silence of the night. The alleyway was painted with a new layer of graffiti; copious amounts of thick, red liquid covered up the white profanities painted on smoke-blackened brick. The deepening red dripped sickeningly toward the owner it had previously resided inside, the owner that was now stirring feebly. Deadened, frightened eyes showed the world what it had done with it’s future, but alas, no one would see. Not one person would witness the cruelty of life, no one worth mentioning at least. The few who did witness the act would melt into the shadows, mere echoes of where they had been and who they had killed, and live to ruin yet another’s life and ultimately end it, as they had done so many others.
It was an ironically clear night, filled only with the sounds of harsh breathing growing slower by the second and rough voices discussing matters no self-respecting man would ever wish to hear. Footsteps faded into the distance and now the figure on the concrete was alone, doing his best to keep his insides where they were supposed to be.
The stars were reflected in a nearby puddle and the figure scraped and clawed his way toward it. Shaking fingers dipped into the water and rubbed the liquid over cracked and bleeding lips in an attempt at comfort. The sounds of pain-filled breathing filled all the available space in the alleyway and the figure shuddered, wishing it would stop. It didn’t occur to him that that sound was the only thing keeping him alive.
“H-hyung...” The word, almost a sob, so different than the previous voices, replaced the breathing. “H-hyung...help me...”
No one would hear, just as no one heard his screaming, and likely no one cared. Why would anyone care about the typical junkie lying in an alleyway covered in blood? Again, the world revealed it’s cruel underside as the figure rolled onto his back and stared at the crescent moon, so beautiful, but so far away, just as so many other beautiful things. As always, he was admiring beauty from afar.
A wave of pain, a gasp of breath, a jerk of limbs and Han Sanghyuk grew still, the alleyway falling silent once more.
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