Black and Blue | Markmin

𝙵𝚒𝚏𝚝𝚢.

{Five Years Later}

The warm summer air curled through Mark's brown fluffy hair. It still had hints of navy blue in it from a fundraiser where he had dyed it -- for a children's hospital if he recalled correctly.

His tie hung loosely around his neck, and he had undone the first couple of buttons on his standard white dress shirt. His suit jacket hung over the edge of the small balcony he was standing on and his forearms rested next to it against the metal railing. A tall champagne glass was carefully held between his calloused fingers. He looked down at the city thriving beneath him and he let out a sigh.

Mark was alone.

At least he felt that way. All the people swirling down below him on the streets and packed into cars ready for a fun night at some overpriced and overcrowded club. He had been once or twice, but he never found it quite as interesting and thrilling as he collogues did. He was still obliged to go, though, whenever invited -- it was the price of being filthy rich.

Five years ago, when Mark had walked out that building without a soulmate or a friend to rely on, he had almost broken down completely. But, true to what Jaemin had told him, Jeno almost immediately swooped in. He hadn't even even graduated high school, but the boy's family had thrown him into a position under their company. If he remembered, he had been first stationed in Tokyo.

He hadn't liked Jeno, but years would change the feelings between the two boys. Now, Mark had the strange privilege of calling Jeno his closest friend. As years passed and Mark climbed through the work force, he had become much closer to Jeno. Especially when the younger had inherited the department that Mark had been transferred to. Gala after gala; party after party; meeting after meeting. It was soon a wonder that they had ever hated each other.

And now he and Jeno were co-presidents over a branch of his family's company stationed in Seoul.

It certainly pays well Mark thought to himself, a bit bitterly that he had come so far and all he had to show for it was money. Nothing really of any substance. He transferred his almost empty glass of champagne to his left hand, reaching up to ruffle his hair with his right. It had been combed neatly earlier but he had brushed and washed it out when he had gotten home close to an hour ago.

Mark let out a depressed sigh, feeling the emptiness of his penthouse apartment loom behind him. It was large, elaborate, and much too lavish for the boy who used to work as a fast food delivery boy to help pay the rent of a one bedroom apartment.

He felt a bit nostalgic as he remembered all the saving that he and Jaemin had to do. The meal planning, the cutting down on showers and electricity to make sure the bills weren't high, the borrowing from their other friends.

Jisung. Renjun. Chenle. Donghyuck. Yuta.

He had stayed in close touch with two out of the five. Yuta he saw most weekends if he wasn't working, and even if he was he would usually travel to his old district to have dinner with the older and his now-husband Jung Jaehyun. Jisung he happily visited almost every other day on his lunch breaks, the younger working in a retail store just down the street from Mark's building. The young boy was happy though, completely content with his small job and his livable wage. He hadn't wanted the stress of a high-paying job after high school and hadn't even bothered to attend college because of it. He had told Mark the other day that he had just been promoted to store manager. Exciting stuff.

He hadn't been close to Donghyuck, so he saw no reason to stay in touch with Jaemin's old best friend.

Renjun and Chenle...the two had molded into the A-List life quite well. He had to give it to them, they seemed perfect for it. Both extremely dramatic and practically made for reality and variety shows. The two should be on a much-needed private vacation in China right now.