Chapter One

491 Words
CHAPTER ONE Hangover [11:04 AM] Hoseok’s eyes shoot open quickly, deep breaths releasing past his lips. He clutched his chest as if it felt like it was getting tighter and tighter as he heaved out breaths of hot air. Hoseok sits up, looking around his disheveled bedroom; pill bottles, beers, liquors littered everywhere from one corner to another. His eyes stung, his heart was hurting with hatred, and his head was pounding like a drum. “f**k,” He mutters quietly, running his hands over his pale face. Hoseok breaths hard out of his nose, still looking around his room. If this even was his room. Clueless, he was as he stands from the bed. He wobbles, lurching over with discomfort and sprinting off to the nearby bathroom. He puked. Puked until his stomach was filled with the same amount of emptiness that was in his heart. Hoseok flushed the toilet, stumbling down next to it, and running his hands through his matted hair. He felt like crying. Letting his feelings collide with his brain wasn’t helping as it sure as hell wasn’t reducing his horrible headache. What did I do? He wondered, where did I end up? Legs still shaking on unfamiliar ground, he stood up and leaned against the sink for support. He nearly vomits again, but he swallows what almost forced itself up, down. Hoseok slams his hand on the mirror, dragging it, leaving his hand print in its wake, and the male nearly gags at his reflection. Hoseok looked and felt like s**t. He was never happy with himself, and he was sure of it. “You’re f*****g ugly, you piece of s**t,” He grumbles angrily. He opened the medicine cabinet, hands fumbling over numerous bottles until he came across one in particular. Jung Hoseok, ARIPIPRAZOLE, ANTIDEPRESSANT: TAKE EVERYDAY ONE TO TWO TIMES, USE RESPONSIBLY. Hoseok quickly opens the pill bottle as if relief was washing over his body. He was home, and this was his medicine cabinet. Forget that he hadn’t had anything to eat or drink and he downs more pills than he should have, dry, without a liquid to wash them down. His throat feels like its closing up, as he was close to choking on them, but he swallows them all down. Hoseok coughs loudly, his throat now feeling as if he was coughing up blood, and the male spits into the sink, turning on the water, cupping his hand beneath the stream and swallowing it. He rinses his face with water, shaking his head, and leaned further over the counter. Hoseok huffs under his breath and ran his digits through his hair, wetting the tips. He then turns the water off and grabs a towel from off the rack and wiped his face, once again looking in the mirror. He coughed, sniffing, “you still look like s**t, Jung Hoseok.”
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