Broken
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Taeyeon inhaled in a draft of smoke from the cigarette she lightly clamped onto with her two fingers. She flicked it once, letting the ashes float hauntingly to the ground, her eyes focused on nothing. Dropping the cigarette to the floor, she smothered it out with an impatient stomp in a weak attempt to release the pent up frustration that never seemed to dissipate.
The loud blaring music didn't help with her mood, it just egged her on, just pushed her a little bit deeper into the hollowness of her own mind. The deep bass reverberated through her still body, her grip on the shot glass ever tightening. She downed her Black Rose in one fluid motion, welcoming the familiar sensation of alcohol burning down , numbing her fatigued senses. It had become a habit now, the smokes, the alcohol, the sickening feeling in her gut that just made her want to throw up and lash out at everyone. She stared blankly at the bar top, her eyes glazing over ever too familiar bottles. Taeyeon had never liked drinking, hell, she didn't smoke either, but what could she do now? Taeyeon wasn't really Taeyeon anymore, just a shell of what she used to be, who she used to be.
Kim Taeyeon, the idol, the inspiration. She laughed bitterly, more like Kim Taeyeon the rejected, the failure. She had let down her group, the three of them. Yuri, Hyoyeon and herself. Just a year ago, they were flying upwards in the charts, bypassing even the biggest names. With her voice, with their dance moves, there was nothing they couldn't do.
Then she happened.
And with that, it happened. Suddenly Taeyeon couldn't sing, suddenly her chest hurt as though she had been impaled by a scorching star. Her voice had caught in and she couldn't force out a single sound. That night, she stood on stage, hung open, hands trembling. Not a single note came. And so she did the only thing that she thought she could do, she dropped the mic and ran. She ran and never looked back, bypassing her best friends - her team mates, her fans, and everyone who had once believed in her.
They tried fixing it, they tried fixing her. But nothing worked, even while there was sound, there was no soul. There was no soul, they said, as the very people who gave them a shot to fame nulled their contract and laid them off.
As they say, the higher you climb, the harder you fall.
And them falling, it was Taeyeon's fault.
She downed another glass. Ah, sweet relief. The fire that burned down soothed her, her mind became a little more fuzzy, a little less clouded. Fidgeting with the empty shot glass, Taeyeon saw a flash of blonde and threw a sidelong glance. Waving for another shot, she downed it and restrainedly placed the glass back onto the counter. Dusting her skin tight jeans, she ran her fingers through her own soft brown hair and went on her way. She wouldn't ever get why she did sh!t like this, but she there was no way she'd stop, not when it was the only thing in the world that managed to keep her sane. So she plastered on an attractive smile - one of the many - and approached her target for the night.
This girl was no different, the same shy smile, the same rosy cheeks from haunting sweet nothings. It was too easy. Taeyeon bitterly laughed under the guise of her hollow shell, she had long become acquainted with the right words, the right moves. She'd never miss a beat. She was a terrible person, she knew that, but what could she do when it was the only thing that could help her forget? In that moment, she'd have old Kim Taeyeon back, her confidence b over, her self doubt nonexistent. How could she possibly pass that up?
"Hello there, beautiful." Her voice was repulsively sweet, perhaps a little sweeter than normal, but so what?
It wouldn't matter, not tonight, not like it did any other night.
Within minutes of chatting coupled with fleeting brushes of bare skin, Taeyeon would get what she want, in fact, she couldn't remember the time when she didn't. Rejection, she'd laugh in it's face, she'd ridicule it, but at the end of the day, truth be told - all it did was eat her up slowly from the inside, decaying her already dead heart.
But as soon she felt soft hands caress her body, butterfly kisses trailing down her neck, she forgot about everything else, temporary relief, one would call it, but well…
Taeyeon didn't care, not anymore.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Taeyeon couldn't feel her left hand, it was numb from whoever it was that was sleeping next to her or on top of her, whatever - she just wanted to get out of here. She threw a quick glance at the girl she had slept with, she couldn't be older than 20, and she looked so peaceful, calm even, but never beautiful. No, never beautiful. She let a small sigh escape from her parted lips before rigidly clamping close again.
Not now, Taeyeon.
Not now.
Gently pushing the girl off her arm, Taeyeon slid off the bed, gathering the clothes that had been forgotten the previous night. She almost fell over while getting off the bed, the dull throbbing in her head easing into the more customary pulses of pain. The room seemed oddly familiar, with it's baby blue walls and the whitewashed ceiling. But weren't all the rooms like that? Some variation of colour, some random ornament here and there, they were just rooms, occupied one day, vacant the next. Just like her heart, Taeyeon mused.
It was still early, the first rays of sunlight slowly creeping into the room, the random birds chirping mockingly. Taeyeon pulled her shirt over her head, wearing her black leather jacket over it. As she was gathering the rest of her belongings, the figure on the fluffy white bed moved, much to her chagrin.
"Hmmm, why don't you stay?"
They'd always say the same things, Taeyeon thought. "I've something on later, gotta go." She smiled the same smile and said the same lie.
"Will we meet again?" Again, like a broken record, just a little sweeter this time, a little more lingering; perhaps it was her first time, was it? From the brief flashes Taeyeon could recall, perhaps it was.
Taeyeon smiled reassuringly - a lie - but leaned in for a kiss, almost as if it was a parting gift. But as she leaned in, she hadn't counted on the girl to pull her down with what suddenly seemed like a vicegrip, or maybe she was just thinking too much again. She sighed into the kiss as the girl roughly explored , and she thought, she thought, or rather her body went on autopilot, and she thought; One more time couldn't hurt.
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