Three Days to Heaven

3

He woke up at six forty five, awaken up by his annoying alarm clock which pulled him out of a wonderful dream in which he was hidding himself from the rest of the world in a deep cavern, because he despises people and everything they say and do, and how oddly mean they can get, and how they say they care about you, but they don't, cause nobody ever does. He could be grumpy if he wanted to be, people just needed to understand that he was not being mean to them, when he said that he'd just prefer them to leave me alone. Quickly rearranging his mint coloured haired, then throwing on some casual jeans and a black long sleeved sweater, the male sat down at the kitchen table, serving himself a portion of off-brand cereal, the cheapest ne he coukd afford with the litte money he had, which saved him about 100 won when he bought them at the grocery store a few blocks down in the "rich sector" of town. The mint coloured haired male barely ate, too disgusted by those cereals' sogginess. His stomach was still growling like an angry wolf, so the man in his twenties took an apple for the trip, and headed for the door. He put his favourite coat on, which was clashing with his short peppermint coloured hair, then threw his all black school bag onto his shoulder, only putting one strap in. The wind was blowing through some small cracks in the walls, lone reminders of his anger issues. He thought that he should probably fix this later, but nobody cared at this point. What was the point of fixing it if he didn't even want to wake up in the morning?

He slammed his door shut and locked it behind him, even though he knew robbers knew there was nothing to steal in his apartment. His fridge was empty, just like usual, with only a few necessities like a can of opened milk, some sauces, a couple not so fresh looking fruits, and a few juice boxes, for school. He owned neither a TV nor a dishwasher. The only thing that was somewhat worth stealing in his tiny 2 room apartment was probably the microwave, but he thought that, logically, nobody would risk breaking in to steal a fucking microwave. Walking to the little bus station, the green haired male waited patiently in the cold, word that summarized perfectly what this month of October had been to him. His ride arrived, huffing and puffing up the road, at the speed of a lethargic snail. Taking small bites into my apple, as the male wasn't very hungry, he watched closely that pathetic ride roll up the hill, finally getting to his stop. He scanned his blue bus card at the front and it beeped, accepting his payment, before it flashed a blue "남산이나" on the screen. He knew he was running low on cash on that card, so he'd have to fill it up soon, but his minimum wage pay check wasn't coming until next week, so he'd probably have to wait until then, meaning that he's probably have to walk to school every morning, which meant he probably woukd need to wake up even sooner than before. Great. He hated walking, but what he really despised was waking up earlier. He sat down next to his long time friend, despite not wanting to chat much with him, not feeling up to it right now. At least he'd be friendlier than those strangers who always seemed to look at him with a strange look in their face, as if they'd never seen someone with mint coloured hair. The male looked outside, seeing the horizon change quickly from poor apartment complexes to the imposing city buildings of Deagu.

"Hey, Yoongi! How's it going?" he fucking asked, as Yoongi thought his longtime friend would do.

"Not great," he said, rolling his eyes, answering for once the question whose answer to which he had honestly learned to lie so damn well.

"What's wrong?" he asked, like everyone he had ever answered this.

"Look, Jimin, I don't want to talk about it."

There was a time when he liked the guy. Funny, smiling, and happy-go-lucky, but not too much, knowing when to be and when not to be, which was a quality most people needed in this world. He would have been the perfect confident, the most amazing best friend, if he hadn't been coming from the upper and richer sector. The moment he learned that Yoongi was living in one of those apartments, he had started helping him financially, which the pistachio haired male hated.