alright so i'm going through my works in progress and i see this doc called hostage

and i read it and i'm like i wrote a gang thing?? what??

and since i'm kind of loopy right now (lack of sleep and all that) i'm just gonna post an excerpt here bc i am a  l o o s e r

“That wasn’t supposed to happen!” Daehyun yelled as he grabbed the nearest wine glass and hurled it against the wall. It shattered, shards falling down the floor in a shower of broken crystals. Just like how Daehyun felt inside.

“I just wanted to know who he was! And now he’s gone - both Youngjae and the bastard-”

Daehyun ran out of energy and slumped to the floor, another shot glass in hand.

Ding dong.

Daehyun shifted, not wanting to get up and face Himchan and his condolences. He knew his friend meant well, but nothing could console his rage now.

Dingdongdingdong.

Daehyun shut his eyes and inadvertently crushed the glass in his fist, trying to block out the doorbell. Shut up, he thought. Shut up. Please.

But as adamant as Daehyun was to ignore to the doorbell, the person on the other side was just as persistent to be let in. Finally, Daehyun struggled to his feet and went over to the door. He unlocked it and waited. He waited to see if there’d be a gunshot and a bullet lodged in his heart as well. He waited to see if he’d be dead in three seconds.

“Open the door, Mr. Jung. I know you’re angry with me, but I’m not going to be as barbaric as you think I will be,” the voice spoke on the other end.

Daehyun fumed. “Get the hell away from me.”

“No,” the voice replied calmly. Daehyun wanted to strangle him for being so collected when Youngjae was dead, but he refused to open the door. “Open the door, Mr. Jung. Please.”

Daehyun closed his eyes and massaged his temples. “You’re not Himchan.”

The voice started to say something, but Daehyun cut in. “And,” he said, his voice shaking with fury, “don’t think that standing there like some innocent gentleman will make me forgive you, you’re a monster, not even the distance between heaven and hell could be enough to clean me of your filthy presence-”    

“Jung Daehyun. Open the door.”    

“No.”    

“You leave me no choice, then,” the voice sighed from the other side, sounding utterly dejected at the prospect of having to open a door without permission. The doorknob twisted open to reveal male much shorter than him with copper skin, a pair of chestnut eyes that seemed a little too old for the rest of his face, and fluffy hair akin to that of a pomeranian. Said male lifted a hand and ran it through his hair, looking regretful all the while.    

“You know I didn’t want to do this,” he sighed. “You left me no choice. I am sorry.”    

Daehyun refused to speak.    

“You see,” the intruder continued, “I couldn’t have you knowing my name through a…” his nose scrunched up. “third party source. I needed to tell you myself.”   

Before Daehyun could remember that he was under a strict no-talking rule, he’d blurted out, “Third-party source? Do you even know who Youngjae is? Yoo Youngjae is South Korea’s most valuable and trusted confidante in the highest level of the government. If he’s not qualified to discuss it, no one is-”    

“You seem to forget one thing,” the man interrupted smoothly. “Or perhaps you never knew. Not only is Mr. Yoo a high-up government official, he’s also part of the most notorious gang in Korea - yes, that’s yours,” he conceded upon seeing Daehyun’s argumentative expression. “The very gang that the government has been trying to catch.”

“S-Say one more word, , and I’ll call-”

“There is no one you can call that will help you, Mr. Jung,” the man continued. “The government is against you. The police will not help. Your friends believe that you were part of the scheme to murder Mr. Yoo. I am afraid that you will have no choice but to listen to me.”

Daehyun massaged his temples. “Tell me I’m dreaming. Tell me this is all a nightmare, or something. Tell me Youngjae isn’t dead!” he yelled.    

The man had already situated himself on the couch, pouring himself a tall glass of fruit punch from the jug in the fridge. “Sit down, Mr. Jung, and I shall explain it all.”   

Daehyun fumed. “Fine. But don’t expect me to be all buddy-buddy with you-”

“I do not expect you to, Mr. Jung. I only expect you to listen.”

“And cooperate,” Daehyun filled in dully.

“And that too.”

leeel wtf is this

i dun even know

adios amigos have a nice day/night