Sacred Knowledge Ateez x Black Reader

They Aren't Real

"This bar is so dead. Why did we come here?" Leesah, your best friend asks you.

You stare around at the dimmed lit bar and glance over at the half lit up neon beer sign behind the bartender. You turn around behind you to see a few people at a table back in the corner, but other than that no one is really there.

"Girl, you know why we came," you nudge her, and focus your attention on the male bartender. You wink at her because you both know the free drinks are the only reason why you both would visit this establishment.

"True, you're right."

"Obviously. What you been up to?"

"Girl, so busy at the office. I've been having so many clients left and right."

"That's great. I'd always knew you'd be a great therapist."

"Aww, thanks sis. You know everyone's been on edge lately."

On edge? You know you've been so caught up in your own drama to notice what's going on in the city. You normally stay to yourself, but you get lonely. So, you appreciate the company you have with your bestie.

"No, not really. I've been out of the loop."

"Vampires, girl. They're crawling all over the city."

"Crawling? I doubt if they were real they'd crawl. I'm sure whatever drugs your clients are doing they need to stop."

You chuckle, but your bestie isn't laughing at your joke. Instead, she glares at you.

"They aren't doing drugs girl."

You look up at the television mounted on the wall and you see a banner run across the screen. "Woman found dead in Marley City."

Your jaw drops at the revelation on the news. You lean in and watch the close caption describe how she was found. But, the cause of death isn't revealed.

"Damn, Marley city isn't too far from us," you reply.

"See? I heard vampires are getting bold these days. I don't see why women are running off with these creeps thinking they will get some Twilight love story."

"I mean if vampires are actually real, they can't help they need blood to survive. I'm sure it's not their intention to kill someone."

"Girl," Leesah shakes her head in disapproval. "Speak for yourself. I might be a therapist but I have no fucking empathy for a killer. Ugh," Leesah groans and waves the bartender down.

"Can you please switch the channel? This is depressing as fuck," Leesah requests.

"Sure thing. You know we don't allow vampires here. So, you two beautiful ladies don't have anything to worry about," the bartender says.

"Good," Leesah says.

"Can we get two shots of Vodka, please?" You request.

"Not a problem," The bartender replies. He places four glasses on the bar and pours you each two shots.

You thank the bartender and clash your glass with Leesah's. You down the first shot and follow it up with the other.

"So, what you been up to Y/N?"

"Umm.. not too much."

Your chest heats up. Because that's always the burning question everyone asks you since you left your job at therapy office. You wish it wasn't so hard to talk about your current struggles. You hate when people try to give you suggestions as if you aren't trying hard enough.

"Did you find a new job yet?"

"No, I've been applying everywhere. My aunt thinks I should work at social services, but that shit is exhausting," you say.

"You'll find something. You can always come back to our place."

"Nah," You wave your hands in the air. "Keisha isn't trying to let me offer art therapy. I mean let's be real. Talk therapy isn't for everyone."

"I mean you could have done it anyways."

"Not the way she's always looking at our case notes and analyzing every little thing. I'm good."

You look down at your phone hoping you got a text from a friend, but instead it was a text from your bank that your account just over drafted.

Ugh. Another scam. You think about how you should have canceled your trial to Amazon Prime. Here you go trying to get over on the system and the system got over on you.

The bartender places another shot in front of you. "You look like you could use another."

"Thanks."

You toss the shot back and you hiss at the burning sensation of the Vodka going down your throat.

"I'm going to the bathroom, Leesah."

"Okay girl," Leesah says, and doesn't even look your way.

You walk into the bathroom and you get an email notification. You place your purse on the sink and open the email. You freeze when you see "Thank you for applying, but we have decided to go with other candidates."

You really wanted that art therapy job. You went through three rounds of interviews. You put so much energy into it and even worked with a professional job coach to prepare for the interview.

"Fuck, a bitch can't catch a damn break," you curse and look at yourself in the mirror. You glare at your reflection. You try to focus in on yourself, but you are starting to feel the liquour set in.

You glance down at your phone and scroll through your contacts. You swallow hard and you land on your aunt's name. But, you can't force yourself to dial her number.

You put your phone back in your purse and you decide you just going to get drunk and not think about your problems tonight.

Because all you wanted was to enjoy your mid-twenties and work in a career that you enjoy. You use the bathroom and wash your hands.

You step out of the bathroom and see a man leaning against the wall with his foot against it. You stare at his blonde hair and fairly pale skin.

You notice he has a hood on that goes along with his leather get up. You can't remember the last time you saw someone dressed like this. Maybe he's into cosplay or something.

"Hi, beautiful," he speaks to you, and pulls the hood down.