The shattered screen of Jongin’s phone lit up as it received an incoming call. A mediocre trap beat he once set as his standard ring tone woke him from his black out. He unwillingly opened his eyes to see a mirror on the ceiling reflecting the image of him sprawled out on a California king, nearly pushing one of the four strangers off of the bed they apparently shared for the time Jongin couldn’t currently recall.

Ah yeah, he was at a hotel party...that ended an hour ago. Or so. His screen had said it was four-thirty on a Thursday, and the party was expected to wrap at three. But maybe it was three on Wednesday. Who cares? Not the boy with a system full of whatever poison the random girls clad in mini-dresses helped him down a few hours ago. The ringtone stopped, causing him to check the device, now seeing it was his father. The man spared less than two seconds before calling again. Jongin closed his eyes, still laying down as he hit accept, putting the phone to his ear.

“I come home on a red eye flight after a month long business trip, and my youngest boy is the only one gone from our home.” the slow tone belonging to his austere father rolled out, taking a full half minute to spit out one sentence.

The sound must have irritated the lanky stranger wearing nothing but a pair of gold speedos whom teetered on the bedside edge. In his unconsciousness, the man rolled away from the sound of the phonecall, causing his person to roll off and take a hundred centimeter drop to the marble floor.

Jongin couldn’t help but chuckle.

“What? Are you laughing at me son?” the man raised his voice. The son could imagine his father’s cheeks reddening while the small vein at his hairline raised out of his greasy tan skin.

“Course not pops. I’m laying down and someone rolled over and fell off the bed. Didn’t you hear the kaboom?” Jongin replied, not caring since he knew his father didn’t care. If the man asked where he was, he wouldn’t hesitate to tell the truth either. The boy learned from a young age that lies and truth from his mouth were the same to his parents. Neither one would ever get him punished.

From the other end of the line was silence, followed by a muffled chuckle. This made the boy smile.

“Ah, fine then. Come home by sunrise and greet me properly, boy. We’ll eat together as a family.”

Jongin rolled his eyes. His body betrayed him by growling. In all honesty, Jongin never had much of an appetite. The past few years of getting drinks whenever he wanted to fill his body with alcoholic calories aided to the fact he couldn’t recall the last time he ate more than two meals in one day. The memory of eating even dinner anytime in the recent past seemed hazy. He usually relied on a friend asking him out to lunch and filled his belly for the day on that.

“Of course, sir.” Jongin added the