Desperation
Ephemeral DreamsChapter 1: Desperation
Myungsoo woke up with a violent jerk of his body, accidentally flinging himself off the couch he had fallen asleep on. Where was he? Mind a haze of exhaustion and alcohol, he couldn't quite place himself. Fumbling in the semi darkness, he found his open bottle of vodka and took a long drink.
Nevermind. Memory was beginning to return and all he could hope for was to drink himself into oblivion again before the others could arrive and try to sober him up. The hideout walls felt like they were closing in on him and for the first time, he noticed how dingy everything had become. The gang didn't really come there anymore except to check on him when he wasn't home. A thin layer of dust was beginning to coat the place.
Thoughts began to wander as he tried to remember the last time everyone had been there together. All of them. Together. It was that day, the day he wanted desperately to erase. The day his entire life broke apart, fracturing into a million little pieces, too small to put back together.
What was it? A week ago? His days were all a blur of pain and booze, unconsciousness and tears. They had all been planning a robbery. Nothing big, just a few things from their rival gang to piss them off. No big deal. They'd give it all back when the thugs came looking for it.
Sungjong, his beautiful lover, had been feeling under the weather and couldn't participate. Secretly, Myungsoo had been relieved. Though it wasn't particularly dangerous, he preferred that the younger stayed safe at all times, just in case. Making Sungjong a cup of tea, he gave the gorgeous blonde a soft kiss and promised to be back quickly.
Opting out of getting food with the others, he returned after only fifteen minutes. Holding flowers and chocolates to cheer his love up after being left alone for so long, he opened the hideout door and was mildly surprised that the other hadn't rushed to greet him. Figuring he had probably fallen asleep on the couch, Myungsoo made his way inside and sat the gifts down on the table where he had parted ways with his boyfriend. The tea cup was knocked over beside Sungjong's open book. Maybe he had went to get something to clean it up?
"Sungjong?" He had called out but received no answer. A feeling of dread began to grip his chest, making his breathing shakey and uneven. This wasn't like the blonde at all. Doing a quick search, he didn't find the man anywhere in the hideout. That was when he noticed it. The book laying open beside the knocked over mug of tea seemed off to him initially but he had ignored it. Now it was his biggest clue. For one, the blonde would have moved it so the liquid wouldn't ruin it. Second, the pages seemed different to him.
His heart sank as he approached it, lifting it slowly. In large, red letters, a message was scrawled across both pages. "Steal from us and we'll do the same." His mind went numb with confusion. The two gangs had always played this way. Never once had anyone's life been in danger as both sides seemed to enjoy the game. Though recently Hyunwoo's side had been rumored to have gone a little nuts after two of their members had passed away under circumstances none of them felt like speaking about.
Myungsoo had assumed continuing their game after these long months would help bring them back from their breakdown. Now his mistake was putting probably the most innocent person between out of all of them in serious danger. He sat the book down gently, still trying to recover from the shock.
Moving without thought, his legs brought him back to Hyunwoo's safehouse. Cursing himself for not thinking of bringing a weapon, he stepped inside, determined to save the love of his life. A solid thump to the back of his head with a heavy object sent him to his knees. Turning slightly, he saw Jooheon glaring down at him for only a moment before everything went dark.
As he came to, a sound made its way through the static noise of what was probably a concussion, snapping him out of the delirium he was in. Hearing Sungjong scream sent ice through his chest as he thrashed to get free from the ropes that now held his wrists behind his back. Eyes scanning the dim room, he found that familiar pale hair. His lover was tied to a chair, blood dripping from his perfect lips, a knife embedded in his abdomen.
"SUNGJONG!" The sheer force of adrenaline that coursed through Myungsoo at seeing the beautiful man like that sent him lurching forward, fraying the rope enough to slip out as he strained to free himself. The blonde merely coughed up more blood in response as all of Hyunwoo's remaining men attacked. He felt himself being kicked and stomped from all angles but he remained unable to bring his gaze off of Sungjong.
", guys. We need to get out of here." Changkyun finally spoke up. Myungsoo was finding it hard to stay awake as the rival gang fled the scene, his every breath was labored and sent fire through his chest. Watching as Kihyun cut Sungjong free on his way out, he barely managed to crawl over, catching him as he fell from his chair.
There was so much blood. Sungjong felt so cold. The man wasn't breathing. Tears began to spill as he held him tightly, telling him over and over again how much he loved him. Shaking, he ran his fingers through Sungjong's hair until he was being pulled away from him.
Finding himself struggling again, he tried desperately to hold onto Sungjong. At first he feared that Hyunwoo's gang had come back to finish them off but soon heard the sympathetic voice of Howon, though he couldn't bring himself to comprehend the words.
It was a mystery to Myungsoo how he had ended up in Sungkyu's car, having probably out from his injuries. They had only been moving a moment before he collapsed into Howon's lap. They had driven him to the hospital as the others waited on an ambulance. Sungjong had passed on before help even arrived. Myungsoo checked himself out of the hospital for his lover's funeral a few days later and hadn't stopped drinking since.
What did he have to be sober for? He didn't even have something to live for anymore. Sitting up, he groaned at the pain of his busted ribs as he leaned against the couch. Closing his eyes, he took another long swig of vodka, hoping to chase away the memory of watching the only person he ever truly cared about die.
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