Knocking back another shot, Wonsik slammed his glass on the bar counter and threw a couple ten’s with it before stalking out the door, his footsteps heavy. The cool night air caressed his face when he stepped outside and he stood for a moment, letting the crisp air soothe his lungs after sitting in the musky bar. He still never understood why people smoke inside; he prefered smoking outside - mostly so he didn’t choke anyone with his second-hand smoke but it was also because he liked being outside.

 

Being outside meant he was free - no constrictions of any kind. Just him and the earth, the road beneath his tires, the rumble of his motorcycle vibrating throughout his body. It was probably why he never stayed in one place for too long; felt too restricted, too much commitment. He sighed and looked around as he stepped onto the dirt, seeing the makeshift parking lot practically empty, his bike one of the few that were still there.

 

He took his phone out as he walked, noticing that he had two missed calls and five text messages, all from the same person - Heather. Wonsik groaned and scrubbed a hand over his face; he didn’t remember when he gave her his number or if he actually did give it to her - he never gave out his number for this particular reason. Some of his one-night stands are down right crazy and didn’t understand that he doesn’t want a relationship with them - one even tried to convince him that he was the father to her five year old son when he just met her.

 

Mounting his bike, he got settled before deleting the messages from Heather and removed the SD card. He slipped the card into his pants pocket and tossed the phone on the ground before stomping on it, the heel of his boot making a nice crack in the screen. He stomped on it again, this time throwing all of his weight into it and it smashed to pieces - he knew that if anyone found it, they wouldn’t be able to revive it. He shrugged and got situated on his bike again - he needed a new phone anyways.

 

Tugging his helmet on, he turned his bike on and headed south, continuing his trip to a friend’s place - he originally was going there for a job but now Wonsik had to ask him for a phone as well. His friend was used to handing out new phones to Wonsik - mostly because of his conquests getting a hold of his number but also because he kept getting into trouble whenever he was on a job. Getting into trouble meant he had to disappear - quite literally. Fake names, hair color changes, new wardrobe - anything to keep him out of prison. Hiding his tattoos was a whole nother story but he was getting better at using make-up to cover them.

 

Halfway to his friend’s place, Wonsik had to pull over onto the shoulder and take a leak - the drinks from earlier went right through him. He was just thankful his friend lived on a deserted highway, otherwise he’d have to hold it for the next fifteen miles and he knew his bladder couldn’t handle that. Zipping his pants back up as he walked back to his bike, he pulled out his pack of Marlboro’s, noting that he’d have to stop at a gas station soon and buy another, before he leaned against the seat and lit a cigarette.

 

Taking a long drag, he looked up at the sky and slowly blew out the smoke through his nose, the nicotine creating a slow burn in his lungs and throat. Being out in the middle of nowhere, the stars shone brighter than Wonsik has ever seen and he practically lived outside. Seeing the stars shine so brightly made him smile around his cigarette; astrology had always interested him and he studies it whenever he has time.

 

Finished off his cigarette, he stubbed it out on the bottom of his boot and flicked it off into the dirt before mounting his bike again. Taking a second to look at his watch, it was still the early morning and if he got going now, he’d make it to his friend’s in the next hour or two - depending on how fast he can push his bike. Getting himself situated on his bike, he let the engine warm up a bit before pushing off, hightailing it and sending dirt clouds everywhere.

 

He managed to reach his friend’s house before dawn and he could see the early morning fog settling in. Leaving his helmet on his seat, he pocketed his keys and went around to the back of the house. Wonsik smiled fondly, staring at the house with a nostalgic-look in his eyes; he had gotten into an accident a few years ago - his first job, ironically - and before he could bled to death, a kind stranger found him and took him back to a random, run-down house to fix him up. Wonsik noted that his friend didn’t do a thing to fix-up the house at all and he snorted, climbing the back porch steps.

 

Testing the door knob, he furrowed his eyebrows when it wouldn’t turn - his friend never locked the door, it always stuck so he never thought to lock it. Bracing himself, he threw all his weight into his shoulder and busted the door open, stumbling a bit to get his balance. Looking around the kitchen as he closed the door, Wonsik noticed there were female shoes and a purse laying on the floor leading into the main hallway.

 

He chuckled, shaking his head as he went to make a pot of coffee. His friend wasn’t one to bring a girl to this place - unless he was piss drunk and didn’t think to go to a hole-the-wall hotel. Wonsik just hoped he remembered to wear a this time - he didn’t want another breakdown from his friend, once was enough for fifty lifetimes. He leaned against the counter as he waited for the coffee-maker to beep and tapped his fingers against his arm out of habit.

 

After making his coffee, he went back outside and sat in one of the wooden rocking chairs his friend had out there. Setting his coffee down after gulping a mouthful, he took his cigarettes out again and lit one. Picking up his coffee mug again, he cradled it between his hands with his cigarette hanging from his lips. As the sun rose, he switched from the cigarette to the coffee every other minute.

 

Hearing footsteps inside the house, he checked his watch and rose an eyebrow when he saw it was already six o’clock. Even drunk off his , his friend still got up with the sun, something he could never do - he either stayed up to see the sun or slept until the sun went down, there was no in between for Wonsik and his sleep. He turned his head towards the door when it creaked open and smirked when he saw his friend step out, hair in all it’s glory with hickeys covering his chest and neck.

 

“Mornin’,” Wonsik greeted, holding his coffee mug up in a salute. Hakyeon just glared at him and sat in the other rocking chair next to him with his own coffee.

 

“What are you doing here, Wonsik?” Hakyeon asked, his voice still thick with sleep, making his Korean accent more pronounced, and it was laced with slight annoyance - most likely from the hangover he’s experiencing.

 

“You called me a couple days ago, said you had a job for me, so…here I am. Looks like you had fun last night, though,” He chuckled into his mug, draining the last of his now-cold coffee.

 

“Speaking of which, I tried calling you last night but your phone was no longer available. What, did you smash it again or what?” Hakyeon glared at him over his mug, practically chugging his coffee in hopes it’d help his headache go away faster. Wonsik rubbed the back of his neck and groaned a little.

 

“Yeah but it was intentional,” He grumbled, stubbing out his dead cigarette. Hakyeon snorted then groaned before pinching the bridge of his nose.

 

“Lemme guess, another one of your conquests got a hold of your number and wanted to make a baby, yes?” He stared at Wonsik with a blank look and Wonsik knew that if Hakyeon wasn’t hungover, he’d be laughing at him. He sent Hakyeon a sheepish grin which quickly morphed to pain when Hakyeon smacked the back of his head.

 

“You’re an idiot,” He grumbled into his mug, tilting his head all the way back to drain the last of his coffee. Wonsik huffed and rubbed his head, praying this wouldn’t turn into a headache later.

 

“It’s not my fault they get their sneaky fingers on my number, how was I suppose to know that they’d root through my to get my number,” He tried defending himself but shut his mouth when Hakyeon gave him the look again. Wonsik sighed heavily and stood up, going back inside to get another cup of coffee and maybe rummage through Hakyeon’s fridge for food. He left the door open for Hakyeon - who had just stood up to follow Wonsik into the house.

 

“You’re gonna need to change your hair color again before you go,” Hakyeon said, coming up behind Wonsik and took the coffee pot from him. He let his hand hover in the air before letting it flop and went towards the fridge.

 

“Really? Why’s that? I just changed my hair color a couple months ago,” He asked, bending down to look on the bottom shelf, moving some things before resurfacing with some peanut butter.

 

“The people you’re going with like to stay below the radar, meaning no hair color that would attract attention,” Hakyeon pointed at his silver-white hair and he sighed, scooping some of the peanut butter out with his finger.

 

“So, what, I don’t suppose to have an extra box of hair dye laying around, do you? Because I’m fresh out of cash,” Wonsik stumbled, his tongue getting stuck in the peanut butter that was on the roof of his mouth. Hakyeon looked at him with slight disgust before tossing a loaf of bread at him.

 

“As a matter of fact, I do, you idiot. Finish eating and I’ll let you take your pick,” Wonsik nodded to him, snatching a banana off the table and went to work making his sandwich. After finishing his sandwich and two more cups of coffee, he followed Hakyeon down the hallway to the bathroom, passing his bedroom in the process and saw that the bed was unmade with the girl missing. Hakyeon saw him looking and smack upside the head again, glaring at him before continuing on towards the bathroom.

 

“Why do you always hit me?” Wonsik whined, rubbing his head again, for sure knowing that he’d have a headache later now. Hakyeon looked over his shoulder at him as he opened a cabnet and rolled his eyes.

 

“Because you’re an idiot, that’s why,” He grunted, pulling a giant basket off the shelf and set it on the counter, hair dye boxes practically overflowing the poor basket. Wonsik raised his eyebrow and scanned the boxes.

 

“Why do you have so many different hair dye boxes when you keep your hair the same tri-color it’s been for three years?” He asked, eyeing the red and silver streaks that Hakyeon had in his black hair. It would’ve looked weird on anyone else but he pulled it off, especially with the way he styled it. Wonsik was almost envious of his hair but decided he liked having one-toned hair better.

 

“For incidents like this, asshat, now pick one,” Hakyeon slid the basket over to him and jumped onto the counter, bouncing his knee as he waited. Wonsik sighed heavily before blindly shoving his hand into the basket, pulling out a random box and tossed it to him. Hakyeon fumbled with the box for a second before reading the hair color and laughed.

 

“This is the opposite of what we’re aiming for, pick again,” Hakyeon chuckled, tossing the box on the counter and Wonsik got a look at what he picked - bright orange. He grumbled and shoved his hand in the basket again, taking a bit longer to pick a random box and tossed it to Hakyeon again.

 

“Light brown, that’ll do. Get comfy,” He pointed to the bathtub and hopped down from the counter, opening a drawer to get some gloves and a towel. Wonsik blew some air through his lips and sat gently on the edge of the bathtub; he remembered the first time they had to dye his hair and he sat on this very bathtub, he had misjudged his landing, fell backwards into the tub and smacked his head on one of the shelfs.

 

Looking up at Hakyeon as he walked over with a stool, he gave him a pitiful look and whined a little.

 

“Oh calm down, after this job, you can go back to being an anime character,” Hakyeon chided, plopping down on the stool next to Wonsik and tore open the box, making the dye quickly. He draped the towel around Wonsik’s shoulders and quickly got to work on his hair. Wonsik just closed his eyes and waited patiently for him to be done.