OH SUGAR! ─── original applyfic

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a doe in the headlights

now playing: afterglow the driver era

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NIGHT NEVER FELL IN THE INFERNO. Life pulsed through the area just like blood faultlessly circulates a newborn's body. Whether it was the relentless flicker of a motel's neon sign or the choking cackles of beer-bellied men outside the taverns in the early hours, the Inferno was always breathing, glowing eyes snapped open. The comfortable silence that came with the night kissed the Inferno farewell many moons ago. It hadn't returned since. To some, the lack of its presence was felt like a lover lost at sea or an estranged father. For others, the constant hum of life offered opportunity and excitement. After all, in a roughly-drawn afterthought such as the Inferno, a mortal's losses contributed to the success of the damned. After all, how can one truly appreciate the sweetness of having a full stomach if they haven't experienced the bitter claw of hunger during the winter?

Tonight, for example, a large crowd had gathered on the Stige. The main road of the Inferno (a labyrinthian drive that bled into a disarray of crossroads and alleyways) was crammed with drunkards, partygoers and gamblers. Girls clad in sequinned miniskirts hauled sweating buckets of ice, lime, soda and Campari onto the little space that was left on the pavements. A brunette dressed in purple passed the ending rifle- one of the few treasures of the Inferno, a beauty with pink opal embedded into the stock- to a blonde. The blonde- Venus Leonard - had a lollipop poked into her mouth, a contrast to the unimpressed expression on her face. She was concentrating, rifle in hand, eyes on three motorcyclists. waiting to announce the winner.

The winner drew his motorcycle to a smooth stop, taking off his helmet and running a hand through his dark hair. Whilst the crowd burst into cheers, Venus grinned proudly at the winner, the lollipop still propped between her lips. The crowd had soon swarmed around the night's winner (Sungmin Park, 19) and baptised him in a shower of icy beer and Marlboro smoke. A trophy now rested in Sungmin's arms alongside garlands of aconite draped around his shoulders. The trophy was dismissed to the side as he winked up at the Venus with the ending rifle cooling off in her hands. She rolled her eyes but passed the gun to her brunette acquaintance. She removed the lollipop from her mouth as she congratulated him with a quick, sour blue raspberry kiss, tying her arms around his neck as he pulled her in by the waist for another. The crowd erupted into yells of blaring pride and roars of salute! as the bottles of Campari and soda were removed from their bucket. As the first, yet far from the last, celebratory drinks of the night were drained, the close second place was lighting a cigarette and cursing a god he didn't believe in.

Monte Malacoda was loyal to one and one only: himself. No God, no family and certainly no would ground him into making any sorts of decisions. It was these moments, however, when he would fail himself that stung the most. So now, as one does from time to time, he was smoking and allowing himself to feast on the sour grapes of loss until his rage passed.

"Not your best, Mal."

"Fuck you and fuck Sungmin," Monte muttered, eyes grazing briefly against the sight of the dark-haired winner and scoffing over how he had dismissed the trophy for a beer and a pretty girl. He rolled his eyes, taking a long drag

"No thank you."

Jaewon Jeon slid into the seat beside Monte, sighing as he glanced skywards, trying to make out shapes in the smog and the late night cloud. Monte tossed his cigarette to the ground, watching the curling flames choke into glowing embers and, eventually, ghostly smoke haunting the asphalt.