Jongup lifted his glass and tilted the liquid into his mouth. He welcomed the refreshing sweet taste of the coke, only to be back-lashed by the bitterness of the vodka that had been mixed in. He was never much of a drinker, but he never said 'no' either. Jongup always wondered if it would truly make him feel better, if only for a short period of time.

He realized that he didn't belong back at home either, where his broken mother and aggressive father waited for him. Then did he belong back at dorm? Nothing waited for him there except an old mattress, not that he could go anyway. It was summer and he was visiting his family and old friends. Jongup had nowhere in particular to go, so he was here.

"Hey Zelo," he greeted, as a tall blonde high school graduate walked up to him. Jongup managed a casual smile, subconsciously taking another sip from his cup. The younger man returned his greeting with a nod of the head and a smile. They struck up conversation about school, something Jongup internally cringed at; his education had not been kind to him after graduating secondary school. Nonetheless, Jongup played along, carefully dodging questions directed at him.

"So going into dancing?" he asked, knowing the young boy had a talent for performing. 

Zelo nodded, a proud smile plastered on his face. "Yeah, they accepted me right as I finished my routine."

"Congrats, man." 

This was the easy part for Jongup: leading the conversation so it centered around the other person.

"What about you? Surviving well in the prestigious academic world? Heard your school's pretty tough."

And this was the hardest part.

"It's alright. Miss home sometimes though, just chilling like this," Jongup answered quietly and as broadly as possible, taking a long swallow from the cup until it was empty.

"More so for you since it's so far, eh? Have you decided on your major yet?"

Zelo was waiting for Jongup's answer when a drunk giggly friend pulled at his arm. With the stubbornness that alcohol provided, the friend persisted at pulling Zelo to whatever it was she wanted to show him. The blonde looked apologetic to Jongup before focusing his attention away.

Jongup was relieved, to be honest. He didn't know how to answer Zelo's question. He didn't know what his majors were going to be, he didn't know what he wanted to study, he didn't know if he wanted to go to school at all - he just didn't know.

The thought engulfed him, the strong sensation of despair gripping at his throat again.

But he had to go to school. His parents were expecting him to get a degree. They had already invested so much in his education. Not to mention he would be watching all of his friends move on in their lives, leaving him behind step by step if he didn't follow their path. All the judgment he would get... Jongup, the straight A student, short of a degree after not being able to go back after first year. Jongup, the one who wasn't able to withstand a university environment. Jongup, the fallen friend. 

"Jongup!" 

He snapped out of his breakdown at the sound of his name. He turned to see Himchan. Himchan was an old friend of his, the two of them having met each other during freshmen year of high school. He was kind-hearted enough, yet his mouth didn't hold back what needed to be contained. Without a little constraint, Himchan was known for being obnoxious at times. For that reason alone, Jongup felt a little weary with talking to him.

But what choice did he have?

He put on a mask and gave Himchan a nod of the head.

"When'd you get back?"

"Not too long ago."

"Doing good?"

"Eh. Not bad." 

Jongup was used to the silence that lingered for a fleeting moment while they waited for him to elaborate, which he never did.

"Not bad? I could bet all my money that you're probably breezing by all this," Himchan said with a smile.

Jongup tightened his jaw.

Breezing by? That was far from the reality he lived, even this very second.

"You're smart. School should be okay," he continued, and Jongup dreaded what was the come next. "You've got us. And ah! Your family is awesome too, right? I remember how sweet your mom is, Mrs. Moon was amazing. She was so nice to us when we came over. I wish my mom was like that."

No, Himchan didn't. Himchan really didn't. Jongup's mother was a fragile woman, and as year after year passed by, she was slowly cracking apart under the pressure of his parent's destructive relationship. It started with musing suspicions - her lipstick went missing, the cup moved while she was away, she heard footsteps when she was home alone - but it escalated slowly and surely. Soon, the belief she was being watch draped over her being like a heavy cloak.  In turn, his mother's attention on Jongup heightened to new degrees, adding restrictions that made no sense to him. It drove Jongup mad. So no, Mrs. Moon was not the ideal mother.

Jongup gritted his teeth.

"And your dad. I've never really talked to him for long but he seems like quite the man. Tough, wise, a good businessman, right? I can tell how much he cares for you and Mrs. Moon."

Why was Himchan still talking? More importantly, why was he still talking about Jongup as if he knew everything, when, in truth, he knew nothing? 

Yes, his father cared dearly for Jongup. But he didn't care so much for his mother. Mr. Moon treated Mrs. Moon like trash, garbage, litter. He shouted at her, degraded her, called her names and refused to listen to a single word she said.  Yet Jongup still couldn't bring himself to hate his father. That would have been too simple. No, his father had a long history of his own, starting from begging for scraps at a young age to working hard hours at a construction company until he was able to achieve the business he had now. His father grew up in a completely different time than Jongup, and while he couldn't understand his father, he had to respect him. That proved to be more difficult that he ever imagined.

"Man, I wish I was you. Smart, popular, nice, wealthy. You have it so easy."

So easy.

Eyes suddenly bloodshot, Jongup walked up to Himchan. As his gaze bore into the taller man's face, he could feel the blood boiling under his skin.

"You want to know what it's like to be me?" Jongup asked quietly, the corners of his mouth quivering dangerously into an evil smile.

His eyes darkened.

"Let me show you."

Jongup's hands crept up Himchan's neck before gripping themselves around his throat. Himchan stared wide eyed at Jongup. The fingers tightened.

"It's very much like this..." Jongup whispered, his eyes still possessed. "A creeping feeling, really."

He gritted his teeth.

"You think I should have it easy, right? That I have all these things served to me on a silver platter. You think I should be f ucking happy," he hissed. "You don't know the half of it."

Jongup gripped harder, starting to cut off Himchan's air.

"I was kind of like you right now. Confused. Dazed. You know this is very wrong but you stay frozen because you don't believe it."

His fingers pressed together harder still.

"You believe I'll let go."

A dark smirk finally found its way on Jongup's face, the evil glint in his eyes getting brighter by the second.

His grip was like iron and Himchan started to gasp for air, his face growing red as if his head might explode. Himchan searched Jongup's face desperately, trying to tell him that the joke had gone too far.

Jongup didn't flinch.

"You're not quite there yet, Kim Him Chan."

A few more seconds passed - an eternity to the two of them. Himchan's face distorted, fear clouding his face as he started to claw at Jongup's arms and hands. He flailed, begging the others watching them to help him stay alive.

But the watchers were glued to their spots by shock, perhaps not believing the situation before them. It was their sweet, friendly Jongup after all...

"There we go." Jongup chuckled in satisfaction when Himchan gurgled in panic. "Now you know how I feel."

Himchan gaped open his mouth to say something, but no sound came out as the air in his lungs completely emptied out from him.

"I feel like I'm suffocating. All - the - bloody - time. I always hope... No, expect it to get easier, to give me enough space to breathe, at least. But it never does."

Jongup tightened his grip even more.

Himchan was starting to turn purple.

"It only gets harder.

"More difficult.

"Everybody sees but nobody helps.

"Or maybe they don't see in the first place, just like you.

"How could they?

"But it screws you up so much you start to feel dizzy.

"Eventually, you start to lose it.

"And it's screaming to be let out, to be shown."

Himchan's eyes were starting to lose focus as the energy drained from his body. Soon, his eyeballs rolled up to reveal his whites.

"That's what it feels like to be me."