Novocaine

Chapter 8: Smoking Kills

Jeongguk was so bored. There was only one period of class left before the bell rang, but he couldn't stand it anymore.

God, teenagers are so boring.

All they did was just sit around together and talk s**t. Jeongguk seriously had better things to do than comment on Heather's awful new hairdo, or how Mr Williams was being a total b***h during today's history lesson, or discuss how kevin was caught watching porn when he forgot to lower the volume on one of his old tabs.

Like, come on. They were all horny teenagers for f***s sake. Who wasn't watching porn?

He was so done. Done with all these boys and girls who thought they were the absolute s**t when they were all just so f*****g annoying that jeongguk couldn't stand it anymore. He cringed at the teacher's pet when she offered to erase the writing on the board, being the total angel that she is. Jeongguk hated the teacher's pets, because he hated the teachers themselves.

fucking adults who thought they had the power to control him.

He had enough of that s**t at home. His father was always on his back for every single thing, like a hand constantly wrapped around his throat, tightly choking him, not letting him f*****g breathe.

That's what it felt like being Jeon Jeongguk. Caged and silenced.

And his father could get away with anything. Every other adult in Jeongguk's life knew exactly how his father treated him. They all knew and did nothing. Yet they expected him to still carry some sort of respect for them?

hah. respect.

Something Jeongguk was no longer capable of. He'd ignore old elderly people in need of help, and walk by the homeless on the street, leave a kid crying in the middle of a park, and just don't care– don't give a single f**k. Not only was he disrespectful. He was someone with no empathy, or sympathy, or anything for that matter. The time he only cared about something was when it concerned himself.

Emotions would only evoke whenever he would get affected.

he was downright selfish.

So no, he could no longer deal with all these annoying teens who were so desperately trying to befriend him. A girl would blush profoundly if he asked them for a pencil, a boy would start to stutter and mumble when they tried asking Jeongguk if he wanted to join them for a smoke. Girls would ask to tag along as well– just to be seen with the badboy himself.

It was pathetic.

How they all practically chased after his attention, his affection. They all wanted it, reaching out their arms and trying so hard to feel it at their fingertips.

Jeongguk needed to do was shrug, a bored expression on his face, and reply with a 'I don't care' and they were all at his feet.

So pathetic.

he really had enough. Adults treated him like their property and people his age treated him like their god.

wasn't he just human? wasn't he just jeongguk?

Wasn't he just trash?

Whatever, he'd had enough. So, with his hands tucked into the front pockets of his sweatpants, he was trotting down the steps that lead to his school with a lit cigarette resting between his lips.

When he reached the ground, the last end of the cig glowed red as he inhaled the toxins that corrupted his degrading lungs, Poisoning his young body and cutting his life off years.

he didn't even like the taste, the feeling.

But he was addicted. Smoking was like a filler in his life. An excuse. Smoking addiction was an excuse Jongguk regularly used– towards himself. Whenever he started to question things like why he really was skipping class, he stopped his mind for places where he didn't want it to go by providing the same excuse as he always does–

–he needed a smoke. His lungs craved it, they were burning with a certain emptiness and desperately called out for the familiar poison, as if they needed it to survive.

But that wasn't the case. Jeongguk wasn't addicted, he could easily stop wasting all his money on a new pack every day and never have to taste the disgusting stuff again.

God, he wanted to stop so badly.

But that would mean that he wouldn't have an excuse anymore, And it would mean his mind would travel to places, thoughts, memories, that he had been pushing away and shutting off for years.

And he was nowhere near ready to uncover them again.

So here he was, Yet again.

'Going for a smoke'

What he was really doing was skipping his last class, heading off downtown and planning on staying there for a while.

Sure, his 'friends' at high school smoked with him and did the occasional trip with lsd or ecstasy, sometimes did cocaine.

But that was nothing.

Downtown, where all the lawlivers hung, was filled with people with much more jeongguk's style.

No one was kissing his ass there. Rather, were trying to rob him or trick him into a scam, Yeong dealers approached him, and he was even held at gunpoint once to hand over his wallet. Yeah, Jeongguk really thrived downtown.

Today he decided to go clubbing. After spending hours hanging out at an illegal racetrack, he followed along with some older guys he knew into this club that was known for its prostitution services.

Not that Jeongguk ever took part in those services.

It was rather surprising that he still held his innocence. Not that it meant all that much to him, but he was so sick of people trying to seduce him left and right that his d**k wouldn't even react to the advances sprung onto him.

Sounds like erectile dysfunction or something. But it wasn't. The boy had no trouble getting hard after watching a few videos by himself at home in his bedroom.

And maybe he has never been touched by another person before. But boy, has he done a lot of touching?

At school, people threw themselves at him, and the only way to get them to shut the f**k up and leave without whining like a dog was to cater to their desires.

he mostly stuck to heavy make-out sessions, fondling, fingering, and even the occasional blow-job. Those were rare though, and definitely not given to anyone at his school. They were reserved for the older, more experienced, more mature, and much sexier men he came across on his nights out.

he never let it get out of hand, though, with his strength and experience in fighting, he had no problem defending himself from any unwanted advances.

Besides, Jeongguk had always loved giving more than taking. Taking meant he owed that person something, that he was in debt. he hated that.

But giving meant that he was a generous person, and there was nothing that made him feel so accomplished than when he saw that the person he was pleasuring was satisfied.

It meant Jeongguk was doing well, That he was finally doing something right.

It made him want to do better, but that led to even more problems. There was a reason everyone at school was obsessed with the badboy. Not only was he open to both genders, and equally popular among them, but he always left them wanting more.

It was like he gave them a little taste of what a night with Jeon jeongguk would feel like.

And god, if foreplay felt as good as that, then what did the real thing feel like?

Whatever, it wasn't Jeongguk's fault, he was so good at giving. he knew it and he loved it. How he could drive a person so far off the edge and then desperately climb back up just to get a glimpse of him again.

he loved having control.

No one could ever tame him. he was a beast gone wild and existed following his own decisions.

he truly thrived downtown. Away from the tight reign, his father had wrapped around him and cut his blood circulation so thin that he was so close to bursting.

And here on the dance floor, with a pretty brunette that had a red sparkly dress hugging her body, grinding against his crotch as his blood buzzed with the tequila shots he had earlier–

–he felt like he could breathe.

he was enjoying the blissful moment, but soon the brunette was pressing back too hard against him and Jeongguk took that as his cue to leave. he made up some excuse about needing another drink– and promising to get her one, which was a total lie– and stumbled back towards the bar.

he sat down on a stool and asked for another shot, not caring about what it was, as long as it was strong, and tapped his fingers along the cracked wood.

The music was awful, it always was. Blaring at an unnecessarily loud volume as some sort of horrible techno ricocheted off the walls, making the teen's ears bleed and his eyes fog when the dazzling lights became all too much for him.

Fuck he really needed that shot, before reality came crashing down on him.

But he should've known. Jeongguk really should've known by now.

Know how much the universe f*****g hates his guts.

"Having fun?"

A deep voice husked into his ear. Jeongguk's mind was spinning too much and all he really wanted was for the bartender to arrive with his order. He wasn't in the mood to blow up anyone right now, much less some creep from this overcrowded club.

""Come back at thirty, I'm not in the mood right now" the teen grumbled, eyes slightly lighting up as he saw his shot glass being placed shot of him.

"Is that so?" The stranger hadn't left, making Jeongguk internally groan. He just wanted to take his shot in peace without having to worry about some guy trying to take advantage of him.

""Just f**k already" his dainty fingers edged out to lift the small glass to his lips, but before he could meet the liquor that his body painfully ached for, a larger, more tanned hand wrapped around his paler complexion. Practically swallowing his limb whole.

Why did it look so familiar?

"I think that's enough rule-breaking for one night cupcake."

Suddenly, the grip was right back around Jeongguk's throat, and he couldn't breathe anymore. His moments of freedom were over. Hell was awaiting him. He could see it .

The raging fire, burning and crackling with such intensity in taehyung's dark orbs as if they were engulfed in the flames themselves. The fury that was filled within them was overwhelming. Jeongguk never knew his eyes could hold such strong emotion.

he was the cause of those screaming flames.

he knew what the fire meant - what it told him about his future.

How he would suffer.

Suffer at the hands of Taehyung