Irene simply thought it hadn't mattered anymore. She's got no money, no family, and here she is, wandering the streets and dwelling on the unreachable, sick nostalgia of once being functional. How hopeless.

She fastens the pace of her walking, the thumping on the ground getting louder with each footstep. She grunts when she nabs out the cigarette stick from in between her lips. So filled with anger. Why am I here anyways? It's a chilly Winter evening, what the am I doing? She throws the cigarette stick on the ground and stomps on it as she feels the biting, cold wind cut against her skin; Irene hates herself so much right now. But it's kinda tolerable, she guesses. . no, she's not tolerable herself, but the self-loathe was surely something she's grown familiar with. She'd love to drown in it ASAP, but she thinks she'd rather be in bed, and not in the dark streets if she were to do her daily ritual right now.

At last, she runs to her apartment door. And within minutes, she's changed into the necessary clothing and prepared the essential equipment for tonight– in her pajamas, with a bottle of Vodka and a small radio she got for her 18th birthday. Now sitting still on the edge of her bed. Perfect.

She lies down, and this is where she thinks she belongs. Drowning in hopelessness and clean bed covers. For the first time that day, she smiles. at least i've maintained my bed clean in the midst of all the ty, irresponsible things i'm doing. Truly, this is where she belongs.

She belongs to the wide space of her bed that offers her to drown in her own mind, which mainly consisted of angst and what-ifs. Although, she does like this, – drowning within herself, only with herself, in her huge Kingdom of Solitude. She likes it that there's no one to blame, no one to bring her down, and that she's capable of deluding herself into thinking that she's got a higher level of freedom than any other being in this planet. But really, in reality, she's just lonely as , – with no one to please, no one to disappoint. Kingdom of Solitude my . Still, she wouldn't be complaining. She isn't. No, she can't. How can she, when she'd rather drown than struggle to stay afloat on the surface of light? Also, it's a horrible mixture of inferiority, hesitation, and laziness that's caused her to be the mess she is now. And all those traits are voluntary, so no, she shouldn't be complaining.

She laughs. What a lame combination for a twenty-four year old. Actually, the most tragic combination any adult could have, or any individual in this planet who's still got enough time to love themselves, really. She doesn't even know why she bothers drinking the alcohol; it tastes like utter and she doesn't need the buzz in her head to enhance the evergrowing self-loathe flowing through her veins. But maybe that's where the irony kicks in, - she's forcing it upon herself so she hates even more, if that was possible. It's okay,  Let it hurt. Let it bleed. Let it heal. And let it go, She'd always tell herself.

Jesus! the buzz is getting even worse now. ! she yells. Why now, why now?! She scuffles against her bed with a bottle in her hand a clump of hair in the other. Finally, she opens her eyes to see that the buzz actually isn't in her head but literally under her nose. She looks down to see her phone vibrating with a text message displayed onscreen.

[From.SeulGom❤️️] Unnie, how are you? I'm thinking about you during this lovely evening <3 keke can I come over tomorrow? Or can you come over instead? Or do the Police still have your driver's license??? godammit Irene RED means STOP!! anyways, i'm going to see you sook okay ^.~mwah and promise me you'd have good night's sleep tonight

self-loathe, that whole kingdom of solitude , this useless bottle of Vodka she's holding. Maybe it was time for her to actually get herself living now.

She lifts the phone, her initial source of annoyance before she'd read the string of words displayed on it, types a few words and hits reply.

[To.SeulGom❤️️] come over tomorrow. see you soon, seul :)

She doesn't even know why she bothers putting a smiley face when it's basic as anyways. And, great. She's over-thinking again. Adding to the tall, tall pile of regrets building up every second.

[To. SeulGom❤️️] and yes, i promise i will. see you tomorrow.

Irene doesn't sleep at all that night.

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1. i was wrong to think this was going to be a one-shot...

2. irene as a beautiful mess is still, of course, beautiful ❤️️

3. this is literally the events that occur before the Final chapter..... ?? Prequel!!

4. enjoy ❤️️