Beautiful Broken Things

Chapter Two

My head was pounding by the time I woke up. Was I hungover? How much I had I actually consumed yesterday? Everything that happened last night was a blur I couldn't make out no matter how much I tried.

Groaning, I pulled my legs out of my bedsheets and did my usual routine, which consisted of rolling down on the floor and being unable to sleep for a few minutes, so I'd get up instead. What was different this morning, though, was the fact that everything seemed...bubbly. My desk, my dresser, even the walls. It shifted as I looked, so everything flowed into another and created multiple new colors thar had nothing to do in my bedroom. "Yup, I'm either high or drunk." I combed through my hair with my fingers, not at all alarmed, before slowly pushing the door open with a creak. The sound was so sudden in the silent room that it made my ears ache. "Jeez, how did I even come home last night?" I mumbled to myself, stumbling through the hallway to the bathroom. For a few seconds, I wondered why it was so dark, until I remembered I hadn't turned on the lights. Everything that seemed normal to include into consideration didn't make sense anymore. I'd never been really drunk, but I was still pretty sure this wasn't just a hangover.

Yawning all the while, I got dressed with minimum effort. I wasn't going to work because it was the weekend, neither would I have gone if it was a normal day, but I had to go to the store because my fridge was empty. If I had hopes of eating today, it was necessary to stock up early so I could eat breakfast at a reasonable time. Though the strange feeling coursing through though my body made me feel full, it was important for me to eat. I'd been eating two meals a day for weeks because moving and work, leaving me a little too thin for comfort. I smiled as I pulled on my shoes, remembering how Chanyeol would poke my stomach every week after an exam and tell me that I could start eating again now. He didn't know how much it mattered to me that he cared, but he'd never know either.

I got a sudden feeling of nausea thinking about him. Shrugging it off as some reflex, I waited until the sensation passed before locking my door behind me and sticking my hands and keys into my pockets. None of my neighbors were awake yet, since it was just past eight on a Saturday and I lived in a complex with mostly retired couples. Being able to do whatever I wanted was something I was looking forward to, being retired and able to do what I felt like. Completely unlike what I was currently doing, with strict routines and little time to breathe. That's why I'd gone to the club yesterday...would be nice if I could remember anything that happened, though. Especially how I got home, which would've been a fun story. Hopefully.

The streets were desolate and dark as I left the complex and turned left down to the closest store. Everything was quiet, except for the occasional car passing by. I started to wonder who might be inside, where they were going and why. It was fun, creating small stories in my head about fictional characters that had some root in reality. My thoughts could go on for what felt like hours, but then I'd snap out and realize only a few minutes had passed. It was incredible how easy it was, even in uncomfortable situations.

"Y/N! What happened?" I turned my head, eyeing Chanyeol who was on his way into the room at full speed. "I just cut myself, it's nothing." He took my hand, holding it closer for inspection with a worried look on his face. Chanyeol was always so focused on my well being, it was endearing. "Why didn't you tell me?" Still holding my index finger, which was bleeding, he turned on the faucet and held my hand underneath. "It's okay. Really." He rubbed his thumb over the cut, letting blood which had started to dry run freely down into the drain. "I'm never letting you slice an apple again, that's for sure." I blushed. "I was just thinking about something else!" Chanyeol leaned closer, placing a soft kiss on my cheek. "Me, right?" That made me blush even more, and I looked away. "Yeah..."

A ray of pain erupted in my head, making me stop dead in my tracks. Where did that memory come from? Like the wound was still there, I rubbed the upper part of my finger tenderly. Something had definitely happened last night for me to literally hallucinate. Maybe I'd been drugged like I thought, perhaps even worse. As no one was around, I did my best to shrug it off and keep walking. Despite this newfound confidence in myself, the worry about possibly having a dangerous chemical inside me still grew and I eventually had to sit down to make everything stop spinning.

Eventually, I decided that my anxiety wouldn't let me focus until I'd made sure nothing was wrong with me. The only place I could go to really find out, was of course the place where I might've been drugged. Maybe security had picked up on something, I wasn't sure. It was worth the try nonetheless, so I was quickly back up on my feet and on my way to the club. A few more people had gathered out on the street, some in clothes that obviously signalized they'd gotten ready for something important while others, like me, didn't look all too formal. At least they weren't headed to one of the most scary casinos in town.

The neon sign of the Extraterrestrial was glowing brightly above the entrance despite it being closed, illuminating the dark alleyway it was lying in. Just before I knocked on the door, I hesitated. How did one ask to enter a casino that wasn't open yet? "You should've thought this through, Y/N..." The people in here possibly owned guns. Did they shoot intruders? Most likely.

Most of the people, though they wore expensive attire, had guns. Sticking out of their back pockets, resting inside their jackets, or carried by bodyguards. Did they expect some kind of attack? Was it a rule to bring a gun? I suddenly felt incredibly anxious. Judging by the people around me, I had entered one of the town's criminal hubs.

"Ah!" I clutched my head in my hands, hunching over. I never spaced out this hard. Even if I was remembering what occurred last night, it still hurt so much I'd be happier if it remained a mystery. Anything that started with guns was a no-no.

There came a sudden creak from the door. "Who- why are you back?!" someone hissed. I peered up, only to suddenly be pushed backwards by my collar and pinned to the other wall. My tailbone impacted with the brick, making ripples of intense pain spread from my back. "What are you -ouch, not so hard- talking about?" There came a new hiss. The person pressing me against the wall was clearly male, and very close to my face. I could even smell the peppermint from his hair. "I told you not to return here. Do you WANT to be Pricked again?" Pricked? What on Earth did that mean? I slowly opened my eyes, only to stare into those of a tall boy, a few years older than me. Plump lips and thick eyebrows in a tanned face was framed by black hair. His strong build was obvious underneath a black leather jacket and black pants.

"Do I...know you? I'm sorry, but if we met last night, I don't remember. And what does Pricked mean?" There came a look of confusion in his eyes. "What do you mean, "you don't remember"? You were Pricked, I told you last night. It's when someone sticks a needle into you and drugs you without your knowledge!" I KNEW IT. A rush of victory made my heart beat faster. Then I realized what he'd actually said. "Without my...?" My eyes widened. I was just about ready to scream in sheer terror, but he realized and pressed a hand over my mouth. "You do not want to attract attention here, believe me. I don't know why you don't remember, but it's probably a reaction to the drug. Are you going to be silent now?" Hesitant, I nodded and sighed a sigh full of relief once he lowered his hand.

"Who are you?" was my only burning question. The others could come later. "I'm Jongin. You're Y/N, so don't bother telling me. I work as the bartender at the Extraterrestrial." At least he wasn't a total stranger, but I still wasn't sure I believed him. He looked like he was lying, eyes darting around all the time. Then again, that could just be paranoia. "How do you know if I was drugged or not?" Jongin looked back at me. His eyes widened, then went back to normal. "What?" I asked. "Well, first hint...check your cheeks." Not understand what he mean, I pressed my finger against my cheek. Something wet was running down it, something...warm. I quickly looked at it again. The tip was stained red with blood. I'm crying blood. "What the f*ck was in that drug?"

Jongin exhaled shakily. "I have no idea."