「 crashing, hit a wall right now I need a miracle 」
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Samseong-dong, Gangnam-gu, Seoul, South Korea
Mark's eyelids felt as if they had been sewed shut. He imagined tearing skin as he peeled them slowly open and blinked for the first time in God knows how long.
The first sight that greeted him from above was a very familiar white ceiling. One that he'd spent hours glaring at when he nearly got half his body fractured.
The first thing that came to his mind was that his throat was very dry. Followed by the realisation that it was mid-day. Then finally did reality sink in and drag him screaming and crying down into it's depressing waters.
Hyuck is dead. Your best friend is dead.
He hiked his pillow up, then pushed himself into a sitting position slowly, feeling a dull pain set into his heart.
Hyuck is dead.
He reached for the cup at his bedside table, only for his fingers to fall short by a couple of centimetres. A shaky exhale left his lips. He shifted closer towards the table and tried again, this time succeeding, but his hands were trembling harder now than it was before.
Hyuck is dead and it's all your fault.
He lifted it to his lips, managing to take at the very least a mouthful before his fingers went weak and spilled the liquid all over his top. He lowered the now empty mug, swallowing the water in his mouth and leaning back onto his pillow. If only he'd stopped Donghyuck before the late boy went to investigate into detail about Seulgi. If only he didn't even tell Donghyuck about seeing the girl at the club. If only they hadn't gone to that particular gambling den on that particular day. If only, if only...
Mark felt a hot pricking at the back of his eyes and his throat tightened. He pulled his legs to his chest and clenched his hands about himself. The pain of the dig of nails on his skin didn't even compare with a fraction of what he felt in his heart.
The worst part about the current situation was that he'd expected this to happen. He'd already knew Donghyuck was going to be messing with the wrong people, but what he didn't expect was the late boy to have acted so quickly. And for the enemy to have retaliated even more hurriedly. The rumours truly weren't lying when they said the Parks worked fast.
The Canadian boy didn't even realise that he was crying until he touched a hand to his cheek and realised they were wet.
He was so tired of all this...
He suddenly hated how little idea he had about what he was doing. His aimless wandering had made him lose his best friend, any possible respect for him from his Clan, and his Clan's standing against the Parks.
He was stupid, but he wasn't deaf. He had overheard his own Clan's plans to usurp him. He was the safe choice to put on the throne after his brother's death, but he sure as Hell wasn't the best choice.
