wingate gardens -got7 ✓

3- room seven

MARK'S EYES WANDERED ACROSS the room, taking in every detail. from the thick mattress lying across the floor to the dirty sink in the corner, he couldn't help but think that it was no different from his home back in america.

images of america flashed through his mind and he had to yet again try and stomach the guilt of leaving joey behind. he refused to think about what had happened, but he couldn't help the guilt from remaining lodged in his chest.

he shuddered and turned his attention back to the room. it seemed relatively clean, not too much mould and the carpet seemed to still be white- it wasn't stained aside from an obvious coffee spillage stain underneath the bedside table.

the mattress, whilst having no bedframe, seemed quite comfortable and clean and when he peered into the bathroom, he almost cried with happiness when he saw a shiny clean showerhead.

the only problem was how dark it was, the room was lit similarly to the hallway- with one dangling lightbulb. he really, really didn't like the dark, he had always been scared of it.

but he pulled his focus from the lighting, because as he turned around to face the door, he saw a huge red graffiti on the wall. it was almost illegible but he could make out two clear letters in the centre of the design 'jy'. it looked like it had been left there on purpose, otherwise he was sure it would've been washed off by a cleaning crew or something.

he turned back around, something felt off about the graffiti, and he didn't like it.

suddenly remembering his backpack (and wanting to distract himself from the uneasiness in his chest due to the graffiti), mark shrugged it off his shoulders and started unloading it's contents.

he had brought two spare shirts with him, but that was it clothing-wise. he mentally slapped himself, he had been in such a rush to escape his house, he had forgotten to bring any underwear.

next he pulled out his almost empty wallet and sighed as he looked inside, seeing about 2000 won total. he had no clue how he'd buy food and keep up his rent with that little...he assumed he'd have to get a job. but what with his minimal korean and zero credentials, he had no idea if he'd find one.

he discarded his wallet and pulled out his phone, switching it on quickly to see 43 missed calls from friends and family back in america. the phone too, was quickly discarded.

the bag was now empty aside from his toothbrush which he brought into the bathroom. on his way out, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and frowned. he looked tired, really tired. and his hair was so greasy it clung to his forehead in small twists.

he grimaced and ran a hand through it, trying to disguise the grease. as he did so, small flakes of dirt fell out and onto the white tiles below him. a gag quickly rebounded up his throat and into his mouth and he swallowed the urge to vomit.

"right then..." he whispered to himself, "guess i'm testing out the shower..."

the water fell from the shower quickly and as he ran his hand under it, he almost cried in joy at the feeling of warm water on his skin. it especially helped that the bathtub the shower was in looked clean and white...he couldn't remember the last time he had a shower in a shower as nice as this one. the one in america had been broken and almost encased in a layer of crust and mould.

he jumped in happily, glad to see a small bottle of body wash on the side of the tub, like in hotels. he wasn't sure how or why it was there, but he was grateful to be able to rub the dirt from his tired body.

after his shower, he went straight over to the mattress and collapsed on it, not even finding the strength to set an alarm for the following morning.

____

mark had assumed he would've been cut some slack.

his first day at wingate had started with him ditching his dying brother. then, he had boarded a plane which took so long that he almost regretted getting on it to begin with. he had struggled at security, not being able to understand anything and somehow managed to get a guard so riled up that a manager came and kicked him out of the airport.

and the move to wingate hadn't exactly been easy either. he had to go to the dodgy estate agents with the woman with the fake smile and find the place. then he had to get there. and once he made it there, he was greeted by the scariest place he had ever seen.

he even felt threatened when someone had come to help him, because 'the others' posed a real life, dangerous threat.

after all that shit, he had really hoped that the next day would be better and that he could just get on with life, away from threats and anger.

but no, he was awoken at 9:30am by a fuming jackson kicking his door down.

jackson stormed up to his mattress, eyes clouding over when he saw mark asleep, his mouth hanging open. he grabbed mark's shoulders, shaking them wildly.

"i told you 9." he said surprisingly calmly after mark had drifted into consciousness, "we had to be up at 9."

mark groaned and sat up on his elbows, leaning to look jackson in the eyes, "...what?"

jackson rolled his eyes, despairing at mark failing to follow simple instructions, "last night. i told you last night, up at 9 sharp."

mark cocked his head, "..does..does it matter?"

"of course it matters you dipshit."

"..why? i'm only..." he turned his wrist to look at his watch, "like..30 minutes late,"

"listen here," jackson said, staring harder at mark, "if you wanna survive here, you gotta take things seriously. half an hour means everything at wingate. everyone else will be awake now, which means you can't leave safely. nice one."

jackson suddenly got up with no explanation, and whipped his head to look behind him at mark's door, where the graffiti was. he threw a hand to his heart, "thank fuck," and looked back at mark, "see that drawing on the wall?"

mark bit his lip, "yeah...it's freaking me out a tad,"

"don't be freaked out. it means you're on my side." he paused and then whispered to himself, "he's on my side. that's good. he's safe."

mark began to pull himself from his mattress and smooth out his clothes, not breaking eye contact with jackson. he didn't like how he felt lying in bed, he felt vulnerable and useless, like jackson could just trample all over him.

"your side?" he asked after jackson had finished whispering to himself.

"yes my side. don't worry about it. just...stay here for a few."

mark could tell that wingate was alive now that jackson was quiet, staring at him. he could hear the slow creak of a floorboard above him, the angry shouts of two people in an argument. he was even sure he could smell bacon cooking and a petrol car driving past.

jackson pushed him lightly on the shoulder, "buddy? you went quiet. can i trust you to stay here till i get back?"

mark nodded, "yeah..go and do whatever weird thing you need to do"

"whatever," jackson grumbled as he pushed the door open and walked out, calling, "remember to lock the door...as best you can. i made the hinges a little loose,"

once jackson was out of earshot, mark grumbled to himself, "my first day in korea and i can't just have a lie in... honestly...what is with this guy? straight up kicking my door open, who the hell does he think he is?"

he sat back on the mattress, "should i go out just to annoy him?"

he smirked to himself, "couldn't hurt right?"