𝒂𝒍𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒊𝒔𝒎 ✒︎ hajeongwoo

chapter 9

i finished writing this chapter yesterday, but i had to edit it and publish it today.

song: Mind games by sicksick

The leather of the steering wheel against his palm wasn't something he expected to miss deeply . His car was finally back to normal. Not beat up and broken anymore. His signature perfume scent wasn't in the car anymore. It smelled freshly new. Like the repare shop bought him a new one. He didn't expect himself to be bothered at that fact. He reaped what he sowed yet again.

He steered the car through the roads of Seoul, with a focused look on his face. It was the day. He had to do it. A gutting feeling rested in his stomach. Even though he had a plan, it still bugged him. He looked at the road with his brows furrowed. Hopefully , he got everything over and done with at the end of the day. correctly .

"Eunpyeong." He muttered to himself, not noticing the words that left his mouth. The more he thought about it, the more stressed his mind got. He didn't notice his scowl falling deeper.

"What are you planning to do?" He remembered his dad asking before he left for school. Jeongwoo swallowed. He could never tell him his plan. Turning to him, he looked at Sungho blankly .

"Just trust me." He ended up saying. Not looking as normal as he hoped.

These words rung In his head. Could he trust him? Morning traffic wasn't something he missed though. His stomach growled, breaking his focus. Once he woke up, he made sure to ignore the food. He was too nervous to eat. And his stomach would torture him on the way to school. Though he hated to admit it, he was nervous.

A sigh left his lips, he parked in the school parking lot. The words "Seoul preparatory high" were engraved in a gold plate at the school entrance. He walked in through the huge gates. Not even knowing if he could make it through his classes.

Haruto walked through the school gates. Happy to remind himself that his car was parked in the parking lot and not at the mechanic. Though his face portrayed non of that emotion. His hands rested in his pockets, not knowing what else to do with them. Being and looking nonchalant was something he never failed to keep up. That day, he looked too good at the ability.

Warm sunlight hit his pale sunlight, turning his eyes a lighter colour of honey brown. He winced at the contact of the sun with his eyes. An unexplainable feeling weighed at his heart. His parents weren't in the house when he woke up, Memi looked all over the over sized house, asking whoever was there. Security. The maid. They all said they didn't know. But he tried to convince himself he didn't care. As long as he had his car.