Mission Wall-E || Jakehoon

Twenty-one: Heartache

He supposes he started to slip a few weeks before the trip started. It was small things, barely noticeable, like drifting off into his imagination when he was supposed to be doing something. Or wandering around on the bus fantasizing about being a part of a science fiction movie that took place in space. It happens every six months or so, he'll be really good, and really happy. Then he'll slowly morph back into this weird mood for some reason. It's like a volcano, dormant for a while, then suddenly it erupts and he can't remember when it had started to be active again, he only knew it was ruining everything around him and it was only getting worse and worse, second by second.

He saw a few warning signs though, like when they arrived in Vietnam and he suddenly felt angry for no reason and nearly started throwing different things from his bag all around Hanbin's bathroom after looking at himself in the mirror. Something about his reflection irritated him and he wanted to get rid of the sight from his memory and vision. He felt like he was two seconds from tearing off the shower curtain and empty all the cabinet's contents. And he noticed it again, on the train to Thailand when they threw those plates. He almost snapped again when his arm swung the bag. He had to force himself to not erupt like the volcano. Thoughts screamed to tell him to throw it again, and again. He felt like a wild animal, and only calmed when he forced himself to look away from the shattered pieces.

He'd say he's a volcano because this feeling goes in cycles. But mostly because the second smoke starts to rise is the second the lava starts to leak into every part of his life. And even though he doesn't want to, he ruins things. He burns things. And he can't tell until after the smoke of anger or frustration leaves. And he's stuck with the burned and ashy mountain of him, staring at everything with dark clouds surrounding him.

He can't remember exactly the first time he erupted. He assumed it must have been when he was really little. But he knew when his eruptions started to affect things. In middle school, he told his Aunt he hated her, and he threw pillows at her until she forced his hands down onto his bed, making him calm down. She knew it was okay though, that he was just stressed from school or something. But he still felt bad and walked around in dark smoke clouds for a few weeks because of it. Then he erupted again, this time on that boy Beomgyu from down the street (later found out to be Yeonjun's best friend). He pushed him on the sidewalk and he scraped his knee. Dark clouds followed. Then weeks later he broke down and yelled at one of his teachers, earning detention for two weeks. It went on and on, until eventually, six months give or take, he felt better. He wasn't upset with anyone and he felt really really happy. He joined the theater club after school and chorus soon after, he started hanging out with Jay more. He was good. He just didn't know where to put his knew found energy into, because there was so much of it. This cycle of really good to really bad never stopped. He didn't have the best track record at school because of it and lost a few part-time jobs. But otherwise, it was okay. It wasn't completely life ruining.

Until it wasn't.

"Go home, Jay." He had whispered, turning his key into the keyhole of his Aunt's house, next to Jay's and across from Ni-ki's.

"What? But we-"

"Go home! Holy hell!" He suddenly shouted, turning back around to show his face contorted in dozens of different expressions and emotions, feeling hot melted rock fall out of him at an extremely rapid pace.

He remembers how Jay's face fell and his mouth hung open, letting snow flakes settle on his eye lashes. He had had fumbled with the zipper on his thin jacket, definitely not doing it's job of warming him up because he left his actual coat back at the party they both suddenly left moments before.

"Why? Did I-"

He knew what he was doing at that time. He knew he was messing things up. But he couldn't do anything but watch himself melt and burn the snow outside of his house and the Christmas lights hanging from his roof. He felt like a train hurtling off a cliff when he could have just taken a different track. And it made him mad and frustrated. Out of control. His head was screaming to stop and calm down and to not ruin things again, just for once.