Each pace was automatic, as his mind had already been set to where he would be going.
"Look who's here." The bartender grinned, breaking the silence in the room.
Casually walking in, everyone knew that something was wrong, although, as usual, the bartender acted as if he never got the memo.
"The news has been pretty dry lately. I see you haven't been slaying any lagers lately." Ignoring him as usual, he just slapped the money on the table without a word. "Oh don't worry about that tonight. Tonight, this one's on me." He grinned, as if it were meant to taunt him.
If only he knew that tonight would be his last night on earth..
He hadn't planned for things to turn out this way, but then again, he had.
Slapping the drink down, he reached for it, but then discovered that he hadn't let go..
"I guess it's safe to say that you're actually starting to assimilate into society then, huh?"
When put in combination with all of the other things he had just heard that day, how could one blame him for when he started to see the bartender as Hoseok?
With eyes that of a greedy beast and words that spewed out like bullets from a barreling gun. The same kind of gun that caused the deaths of so many back then..
Being that all he could see was Hoseok in the man's face, he tried so hard to block out the words that were often said to him when he had been apart of Bangtan.
"You're no brother of mine.."
"You don't think I know who you are?"
"You fucking traitor.."
"Don't worry.. Traitors always get caught.
Always...."
With that intense glare he always gave when he felt threatened, the bartender's smug smile just increased.
"Or was I wrong and you're finally here to kill me?"
Standing, the room held their breath as he began to spit,
"You're not worth my time."
"On the contrary. I possess years worth of your life. Consider your life a waste." Clenching his fist, he continued to boldly take a step out the door, although, he knew he wouldn't be going anywhere..
Desperately wanting to leave, his body stayed put. Waiting on the man that now wore Hoseok's face and fluently spoke as if he had Hoseok's lips. To him, it were as if they were the same exact person. And if he truly took the time and thought about it, there really was no difference..
The way Hoseok used to spit bullets to his wounds was the same feeling he felt whenever that prick at the bar would spit in his face to taunt him. And then it occurred to him..
Why had he allowed both of them to go on like this for so long?
And so, he waited..
And when he finally set foot out of the bar, he took off his hat..
YOU ARE READING
The Quiet Sin
General Fiction"It is not true that people stop pursuing dreams because they grow old, they grow old because they stop pursuing dreams." ~ Gabriel García Márquez Growing old is the mind of the damned, and the damned one is 'me'. The world doesn't want me this way...
