Cockloft

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The fresh green green grass felt like describing the favorite colour of the body lies inside the tomb. Green was always calming and refreshing. Green was always Jung Hoseok.

Namjoon took a cigarette from his pocket and lit a fire to smoke it. He wanted to avoid the pain, yet he clearly killed himself slowly with the nicotine. He didn't care as long as the nicotine helped him reduce the heart ache. He didn't care as long as the smoke blurred the sadness. He was half dead the moment Yoongi told him about the accident. He was totally numb and barely could feel anything more over when he heard some people gossiping about his beloved friend's death. And those sudden miseries had woken up the evilish monster inside him the moment he found and read Hoseok's olive green lyrics book.

As he finished the book, he felt the urge to accomplished what was written there. He needed to revenge. He wanted to make this certain person suffers and beg for forgiveness. He wanted this certain person to regret he was alive to break Hoseok's heart.

Namjoon inhaled the nicotine as much as his lungs could take, and puffed the smoke in the air as he clenched his fist.

"Yah, Jung Hoseok." He mumbled. "Can you please stop from being dead?" He waited for a reply heaven knows he would never get. "You are the most precious friend in my life. And your pain was as well my pain." He threw the cigarette stubs on the ground and stepped on it. He brushed the tomb in silence. Wished that the cold stone he touched was a lie. Wished that his beloved friend made some prank on him. But no. The cold stone he touched with his own fingers was the most damn reality he found it hard to grasp. He laughed as he felt the sting pain inside his heart. "I took him in my hand." He gritted his teeth. "And I will make him pay his sins... That rejected your pure feelings was a bloody mistake."

He bid a farewell and walked heading into the place he parked his car. He drove back to the old mansion his family bought for him near the forest. An hour driving from the crowded hectic city of Seoul.

-----

Seokjin opened his heavy lidded eyes slowly. Tried to adjust his visions to the sunlight crept from the window, tried to study his surroundings. It was all strange. Not the smoky pink wallpaper, but white painted wall. Not the flowery curtains decorated his window, but a plain beige ones. There were no Mario figurines on the study table nor the bedside table, but CDs and it's player.

He observed the detail of the room as an architect. He was in the part of a building, a house, that called cockloft. The house must be big to have such large cockloft with a bathroom in the opposite side. The large trellised windows were in the both sides of the mattress he could enjoy the starry clear sky in the night -if he got the reason to enjoy it, he didn't even know the circumstance- and there was a wardrobe, couch, book shelves loads with manga and some philosophical literatures, and beautiful paintings on the other side. It was actually nice and cozy yet ellegant cockloft bedroom. But he didn't know what happened and why he was there. He had no reason to enjoy his surroundings.

He shifted a little. Tried to sit but failed since his head way too dizzy. Kind of heavy headache blew him down. And his lower back was in pain. There he realized. His white long sleeves buttoned shirt was no longer buttoned. Undone by force. His body covered with baby oil, judging from it's smell and an empty bottle in the mattress near him.

He gulped as he peeked under the blanket. He didn't wear any pants. And there was some sticky white liquid on his stomach.

That couldn't be...

All he could remember was he had warm conversation with Namjoon. His ultimate crush. All he could remember was Namjoon treated him nice and gentle and the man gave him some pieces of vanilla candies, and cocktails. All he could remember was he felt so sleepy and dizzy the moment he finished the cocktails Namjoon gave him. All he could remember was Namjoon asked him where he lives. But... He didn't live in a cockloft.

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