Fic: Sleeping With Ghosts 29/?
Title: Sleeping With Ghosts 29/?
Author: Milena Pandora /milena_1980
Rating: NC-17 overall
Pairing: JaeChun (main), YooSu, YooMin, JaeHo, HoMin, HyukSu
Genre: AU, Angst, Romance
Warning: Sexual situations; suicidal feelings; suicidal ideation; references to substance abuse; self-harm
Summary: Soulmates never die
A/N: A series of connected drabbles/ficlets. Not always in chronological order. Title and lyrics from Sleeping With Ghosts by Placebo
Title: Correlation
"So, what do you say?"
Clubbing and bar hopping lost their charm a long time ago. You're older and part of you can't help but remember all the crap you and your friends used to say about older club-goers. Something about them looking ridiculous and how sick they were, trying to hook up with younger guys. At the time, and as little more than a kid, you took that as challenge (a few you managed to bed took some convincing-maybe because you looked like a psycho) and you have no regrets.
Now, you're hanging out with some of the few people you can trust not to make an issue over your choice to stay sober.
"You're no fun now!" one of the guys told you a few weeks ago. It didn't take long for you to leave.
Tonight, you couldn't sleep, and you made the decision not to text your best friend. You're exhausted yet wired and anxious. Alcohol wouldn't be a bad thing (yes, it would, yes, it would!), but you've been good and chosen not to partake. Instead, you listen to what this guy and that one have been up to, their professional success or utter failure (falling for an easy money scheme, poor bastard). Some of their stories are so pathetic, they make you feel less terrible about yourself.
"Are you still working at the restaurant?" the question reaches you clearly despite the ear-shattering music. You nod.
"I like it." You don't love it, but the pay is decent, the work environment is better than bearable, and you like your coworkers.
"I always wondered what you'd be doing by now," your friend replies. "To be honest, I was sure you'd be dead. Alcohol poisoning or a drug overdose. I'm glad I was wrong, though."
His smile is so genuine you can't stop yourself from smiling back. Look at that. A life of nonstop partying and there's your crowning achievement: you're alive. You suppose that's as good a victory as any. (To be fair, you thought you'd be dead, too.)
The bar is crowded when you decide to get another club soda with orange juice. The sight alone is exhausting. If you had your way, you would be fast asleep. Unfortunately, your new sleeping meds (the ones your psychiatrist switched for the ones that went on strike indefinitely) probably want to find out how long you can go before losing your mind (fucking sadists). Fortunately, some old friends were around, and here you are, at some club you hadn't stepped into in at least three years.
"They should get another bartender." You look to your left. The guy who spoke is attractive and impossibly drunk, maybe even high, judging by his glittering eyes. He looks you up and down. "Don't you think?" Hm? Oh, the bartender.
"Yeah," you agree. "They're really slow." Two people working this crowd at peak hour is absurd. If this were your business…
"Are you here by yourself?" You shrug your answer, hoping he'll get the message. "I came with friends, but they ditched me just now. Want to keep me company?"
You turn toward him and study him. In another life, you wouldn't hesitate. He's good-looking and confident (and he probably has drugs somewhere on his body), your favorite type when it comes to one-night stands. Maybe your meds are suppressing your libido, but somehow you know you wouldn't follow him even if they weren't.
Attractive Guy's shoulders droop a bit, before they straighten again.
"So, what do you say?" He cocks his head to the side. "Keep me company?"
Title: Tide
"Hey. It's been a while."
You'd forgotten what a walk of shame felt like, but here you are, arriving home at six in the morning, hair damp and smelling like expensive soap. With Attractive Guy glued to your side and drink in hand, it suddenly occurred to you that there is more than one way to tire oneself out. So, you decided to try. And failed, spectacularly.
Two hours before you have to open the store, you're exhausted, yet wide awake (while Attractive Guy sleeps his cares away). However will you survive today? You don't even have time to grab a nap-or attempt to, anyway.
Your meds glare at you from their high perch. Shit, you didn't take them last night. The last thing you thought you would do was spend the night out. You steal a packet of cookies (your roommate won't even notice, probably), grab a glass of water, and take your morning pills. Not taking them one night will not kill you, you're sure of it (else you'd have died back when… no, never mind).
Coffee keeps you going, as does your coworker's chatter about the band she saw last night and their amazing songs that should have got them a record deal by now, yet no one notices them, for some reason. Maybe they aren't as good as you think they are. Maybe they suck and the only reason you like them is that bass player you keep gushing about. You smile and nod at all the right places. You stay awake.
You manage to take a nap in between work shifts. Hopefully, the restaurant will receive, on average, a manageable number of customers today. Management will probably have your head if you have another accident (trays and drinks, not the best combo when your brain is refusing to cooperate), and you cannot afford that. If you lose this job, you'll have to ask your friends for help, and you promised yourself you wouldn't accept their charity, especially his.
"Is it really such a crime for him to care for your wellbeing?" your best friend asked recently. Yes, it might as well be a crime.
You'd love to mentally expound on all the reasons accepting anything from Yunho would be a colossal mistake, but you still have time to nap and that's kind of more important right now.
The rest of the day, you survive on coffee (Changmin would probably have a cow if he knew). Your shift seems to last forever, but you're determined-you've got this! A splash of cold water later, you're ready to tackle anything life throws at you.
During a quick break, you discover you have a few text messages.
"Let's go see a movie," Junsu wrote. Isn't he supposed to be at work? "Keep your next day off open!"
"How are the new meds working out? I noticed you haven't called the past few nights." Leave it to Changmin to ask why you haven't been interrupting his very existence. You'd think he'd be happy about it.
Attractive Guy also left a message (when the fuck did you give him your number?). Your thumb hovers over the delete icon. Delete and forget? Or keep and reply? Do you even want to see him again? Maybe…?
There's a message from your sister. She wants you to come visit, that your niece and nephews miss you. (You're like the cool, crazy uncle.). She never says she misses you, but you know better.
You stick out your tongue at a message from Yunho as you skip it.
"Hey. It's been a while."
Your heart skips a beat as you immediately tap on a message from an unknown sender. Could it be? Would he get in touch with you after everything that happened?
Unfortunately, your hopes are crushed as soon as you read it, but your heart doesn't calm down. Why is this guy getting in touch with you after so long?
Title: Sin
"Hey. It's been a while."
"Let's go for a drink," Minjee suggests when you and a few of your coworkers step out the service door after two in the morning. The restaurant was open until late. Not only that, but you were forced to tend bar because the bartender got sick or something. Aside from desperately trying to stay awake, you've spent the past few hours trying to ignore the smell of alcohol and trying to respond nicely to anyone who came across your path. Part of you is glad about it-your hands haven't stopped shaking for a while now.
"Are you coming?" a male coworker asks. They already know your answer, but that doesn't stop them from asking every single time.
"Thanks, but I can't," you answer as good naturedly as always. Sunhee looks disappointed (the pretty girl has a thing for you, for some mysterious reason), but they let you go without much insistence.
"I ran into one of the guys recently and I wondered how you've been."
Your hands tighten on the steering wheel. The sudden discomfort makes you realize that you've been driving over the speed limit. Just what you need, a speeding ticket. No, you've been on the straight and narrow for years now and so you shall remain.
"I know it's been a really long time. How have you been?"
The kitchen is messy again. You're tempted to throw everything in a trash bag. If your roommate can't wash his damn dishes, then maybe he shouldn't have them. Ha!
I can't do this anymore, you complain, but the voice in your thoughts isn't your own. Those words, the betrayal they represented, they used to be only a distant memory. After today, though…
You go to your room and throw your bag with as much force as you can muster-the place is tiny, so it bounces off the wall and almost hits you in the face. Your body's asking for a bath, but you only have enough energy for a shower. You feel gross after such a long day.
Just like that night years go.
It had been so cold outside. You remember bringing a jacket, but god knew where it had ended up. By then, you'd been wearing someone else's t-shirt. Honestly, you hadn't known where you were. A private party of some kind. Back then, you'd followed anyone who liked you and offered the means to pull you out of reality, because you'd needed it. At the same time, you'd been broke, but there was always some way to pay back. In short, you'd been fucked up.
"I love you, you're my best friend."
But those words had rung so hollow.
And now the text message.
"I'd love to meet for a meal or whatever you prefer and catch up, if that's okay with you."
What, so you can walk away again?
With a heavy sigh, you grab your phone and open the message you've been trying to ignore for hours now.
"Hey. It's been a while. It's me, Kim Jongwoon. Remember me?
"I ran into one of the guys recently and we talked about you.
"How have you been? Are you still living in the city? I looked you up on social media and you look good.
"I'd love to meet for a meal or whatever you prefer and catch up, if you're up to it."
…
You relax your fingers and let the phone fall on the bed. Every time you read the message, it feels like a punch in the gut.
It's been so long, nothing he does should have any effect over you.
Why now?
Stop thinking about it.
You connect your phone to the charger and grab your towel. First, you'll have your shower, you'll take your meds, and then go to sleep. Routine, routine, you need to follow your routine. Hopefully, you'll be able to sleep tonight.
Title: Memory
"I just have one more thing to do." Your voice sounds low and lifeless to you. His brow furrows as he starts the car. Your bags-his and yours-are in the back seat, one of many steps you need to follow if you want to survive. "It isn't far from here."
Soon enough, he realizes where you are headed.
"Wait. Didn't you tell him? You swore me you would call him."
You know what you said, the things you promised only a few hours ago. But it only took a few minutes for your resolve (what little there was of it) to disappear. The phone weighed heavy in your hand. Besides, they were sleeping behind their closed doors. What if someone heard you and ruined a perfectly good escape?
"It's better face to face," you reason. Jongwoon groans, small hands gripping the steering wheel.
The rest of the ride goes on in silence. The neighborhood is dark and quiet, just like every time you've come wake him up to monopolize his very being. Then you see his house. Fuck.
"You don't really want to do this, do you?" Jongwoon asks. Every single time your boyfriend has come up in conversation since you decided to leave town together, he has asked the same damn question. No, of course you don't want to do this, but what's the point? You've already given him your reasons, so many times you could recite them from memory.
"Can't he come along with us?"
Blocking out bad memories is a talent, one you thought you'd successfully developed and perfected. But then, you receive some stupid message from a ghost and the walls keeping all your demons from spilling out and wreaking havoc on your heart and psyche break into pieces so tiny you'll need to rebuild them from scratch.
Fucking Jongwoon.
In the three days since he messaged you, you keep reliving the past. In dreams, while awake; in the bath or even sitting on the toilet seat… There they are. You can deal with the pain from all your dealings with your family, or with school bullying, and even painful breakups. Your early adulthood was a haze, so no loss there.
"I can't continue watching you kill yourself." (His voice is so clear in your head.)
"I'm tired. I am so fucking tired it's a damn miracle I haven't offed myself already," another voice filled with exhaustion cuts in. You close your eyes tightly and cover your ears with your hands. Your memories of him are the worst. There's so much you could have done, but you pushed him harder and harder, needing him to prove his acceptance of you was absolute and unconditional. He tolerated so much of your shit, until you pushed him to…
No, no thinking about those few days, of him storming out, and then everything that happened, and his body, so lifeless…
You scream (as loudly as you dare in this tiny bedroom). The longer you ignore your former friend, the worse your state of mind will get. You know it, but you just can't bring yourself to do anything about it.
What to do?
What to do?
You grab your phone. Briefly, you consider calling Attractive Guy, you could really use a distraction. No. What if there's alcohol involved?
You could call Changmin. It's still early (sort of). He would listen. And give you tough love you're not in the mood for. There's also Junsu, but even though he isn't afraid to speak his mind, he's still way too nice.
There's also him. Blech. You don't want to call Yunho. Sometimes, he's too kind; others, he borders on hurtful. Still, he may just be what you need, and you definitely need something.
An annoyed sigh later, you call. The worst that can happen is he refuses to answer.
Author: Milena Pandora /milena_1980
Rating: NC-17 overall
Pairing: JaeChun (main), YooSu, YooMin, JaeHo, HoMin, HyukSu
Genre: AU, Angst, Romance
Warning: Sexual situations; suicidal feelings; suicidal ideation; references to substance abuse; self-harm
Summary: Soulmates never die
A/N: A series of connected drabbles/ficlets. Not always in chronological order. Title and lyrics from Sleeping With Ghosts by Placebo
Title: Correlation
"So, what do you say?"
Clubbing and bar hopping lost their charm a long time ago. You're older and part of you can't help but remember all the crap you and your friends used to say about older club-goers. Something about them looking ridiculous and how sick they were, trying to hook up with younger guys. At the time, and as little more than a kid, you took that as challenge (a few you managed to bed took some convincing-maybe because you looked like a psycho) and you have no regrets.
Now, you're hanging out with some of the few people you can trust not to make an issue over your choice to stay sober.
"You're no fun now!" one of the guys told you a few weeks ago. It didn't take long for you to leave.
Tonight, you couldn't sleep, and you made the decision not to text your best friend. You're exhausted yet wired and anxious. Alcohol wouldn't be a bad thing (yes, it would, yes, it would!), but you've been good and chosen not to partake. Instead, you listen to what this guy and that one have been up to, their professional success or utter failure (falling for an easy money scheme, poor bastard). Some of their stories are so pathetic, they make you feel less terrible about yourself.
"Are you still working at the restaurant?" the question reaches you clearly despite the ear-shattering music. You nod.
"I like it." You don't love it, but the pay is decent, the work environment is better than bearable, and you like your coworkers.
"I always wondered what you'd be doing by now," your friend replies. "To be honest, I was sure you'd be dead. Alcohol poisoning or a drug overdose. I'm glad I was wrong, though."
His smile is so genuine you can't stop yourself from smiling back. Look at that. A life of nonstop partying and there's your crowning achievement: you're alive. You suppose that's as good a victory as any. (To be fair, you thought you'd be dead, too.)
The bar is crowded when you decide to get another club soda with orange juice. The sight alone is exhausting. If you had your way, you would be fast asleep. Unfortunately, your new sleeping meds (the ones your psychiatrist switched for the ones that went on strike indefinitely) probably want to find out how long you can go before losing your mind (fucking sadists). Fortunately, some old friends were around, and here you are, at some club you hadn't stepped into in at least three years.
"They should get another bartender." You look to your left. The guy who spoke is attractive and impossibly drunk, maybe even high, judging by his glittering eyes. He looks you up and down. "Don't you think?" Hm? Oh, the bartender.
"Yeah," you agree. "They're really slow." Two people working this crowd at peak hour is absurd. If this were your business…
"Are you here by yourself?" You shrug your answer, hoping he'll get the message. "I came with friends, but they ditched me just now. Want to keep me company?"
You turn toward him and study him. In another life, you wouldn't hesitate. He's good-looking and confident (and he probably has drugs somewhere on his body), your favorite type when it comes to one-night stands. Maybe your meds are suppressing your libido, but somehow you know you wouldn't follow him even if they weren't.
Attractive Guy's shoulders droop a bit, before they straighten again.
"So, what do you say?" He cocks his head to the side. "Keep me company?"
Title: Tide
"Hey. It's been a while."
You'd forgotten what a walk of shame felt like, but here you are, arriving home at six in the morning, hair damp and smelling like expensive soap. With Attractive Guy glued to your side and drink in hand, it suddenly occurred to you that there is more than one way to tire oneself out. So, you decided to try. And failed, spectacularly.
Two hours before you have to open the store, you're exhausted, yet wide awake (while Attractive Guy sleeps his cares away). However will you survive today? You don't even have time to grab a nap-or attempt to, anyway.
Your meds glare at you from their high perch. Shit, you didn't take them last night. The last thing you thought you would do was spend the night out. You steal a packet of cookies (your roommate won't even notice, probably), grab a glass of water, and take your morning pills. Not taking them one night will not kill you, you're sure of it (else you'd have died back when… no, never mind).
Coffee keeps you going, as does your coworker's chatter about the band she saw last night and their amazing songs that should have got them a record deal by now, yet no one notices them, for some reason. Maybe they aren't as good as you think they are. Maybe they suck and the only reason you like them is that bass player you keep gushing about. You smile and nod at all the right places. You stay awake.
You manage to take a nap in between work shifts. Hopefully, the restaurant will receive, on average, a manageable number of customers today. Management will probably have your head if you have another accident (trays and drinks, not the best combo when your brain is refusing to cooperate), and you cannot afford that. If you lose this job, you'll have to ask your friends for help, and you promised yourself you wouldn't accept their charity, especially his.
"Is it really such a crime for him to care for your wellbeing?" your best friend asked recently. Yes, it might as well be a crime.
You'd love to mentally expound on all the reasons accepting anything from Yunho would be a colossal mistake, but you still have time to nap and that's kind of more important right now.
The rest of the day, you survive on coffee (Changmin would probably have a cow if he knew). Your shift seems to last forever, but you're determined-you've got this! A splash of cold water later, you're ready to tackle anything life throws at you.
During a quick break, you discover you have a few text messages.
"Let's go see a movie," Junsu wrote. Isn't he supposed to be at work? "Keep your next day off open!"
"How are the new meds working out? I noticed you haven't called the past few nights." Leave it to Changmin to ask why you haven't been interrupting his very existence. You'd think he'd be happy about it.
Attractive Guy also left a message (when the fuck did you give him your number?). Your thumb hovers over the delete icon. Delete and forget? Or keep and reply? Do you even want to see him again? Maybe…?
There's a message from your sister. She wants you to come visit, that your niece and nephews miss you. (You're like the cool, crazy uncle.). She never says she misses you, but you know better.
You stick out your tongue at a message from Yunho as you skip it.
"Hey. It's been a while."
Your heart skips a beat as you immediately tap on a message from an unknown sender. Could it be? Would he get in touch with you after everything that happened?
Unfortunately, your hopes are crushed as soon as you read it, but your heart doesn't calm down. Why is this guy getting in touch with you after so long?
Title: Sin
"Hey. It's been a while."
"Let's go for a drink," Minjee suggests when you and a few of your coworkers step out the service door after two in the morning. The restaurant was open until late. Not only that, but you were forced to tend bar because the bartender got sick or something. Aside from desperately trying to stay awake, you've spent the past few hours trying to ignore the smell of alcohol and trying to respond nicely to anyone who came across your path. Part of you is glad about it-your hands haven't stopped shaking for a while now.
"Are you coming?" a male coworker asks. They already know your answer, but that doesn't stop them from asking every single time.
"Thanks, but I can't," you answer as good naturedly as always. Sunhee looks disappointed (the pretty girl has a thing for you, for some mysterious reason), but they let you go without much insistence.
"I ran into one of the guys recently and I wondered how you've been."
Your hands tighten on the steering wheel. The sudden discomfort makes you realize that you've been driving over the speed limit. Just what you need, a speeding ticket. No, you've been on the straight and narrow for years now and so you shall remain.
"I know it's been a really long time. How have you been?"
The kitchen is messy again. You're tempted to throw everything in a trash bag. If your roommate can't wash his damn dishes, then maybe he shouldn't have them. Ha!
I can't do this anymore, you complain, but the voice in your thoughts isn't your own. Those words, the betrayal they represented, they used to be only a distant memory. After today, though…
You go to your room and throw your bag with as much force as you can muster-the place is tiny, so it bounces off the wall and almost hits you in the face. Your body's asking for a bath, but you only have enough energy for a shower. You feel gross after such a long day.
Just like that night years go.
It had been so cold outside. You remember bringing a jacket, but god knew where it had ended up. By then, you'd been wearing someone else's t-shirt. Honestly, you hadn't known where you were. A private party of some kind. Back then, you'd followed anyone who liked you and offered the means to pull you out of reality, because you'd needed it. At the same time, you'd been broke, but there was always some way to pay back. In short, you'd been fucked up.
"I love you, you're my best friend."
But those words had rung so hollow.
And now the text message.
"I'd love to meet for a meal or whatever you prefer and catch up, if that's okay with you."
What, so you can walk away again?
With a heavy sigh, you grab your phone and open the message you've been trying to ignore for hours now.
"Hey. It's been a while. It's me, Kim Jongwoon. Remember me?
"I ran into one of the guys recently and we talked about you.
"How have you been? Are you still living in the city? I looked you up on social media and you look good.
"I'd love to meet for a meal or whatever you prefer and catch up, if you're up to it."
…
You relax your fingers and let the phone fall on the bed. Every time you read the message, it feels like a punch in the gut.
It's been so long, nothing he does should have any effect over you.
Why now?
Stop thinking about it.
You connect your phone to the charger and grab your towel. First, you'll have your shower, you'll take your meds, and then go to sleep. Routine, routine, you need to follow your routine. Hopefully, you'll be able to sleep tonight.
Title: Memory
"I just have one more thing to do." Your voice sounds low and lifeless to you. His brow furrows as he starts the car. Your bags-his and yours-are in the back seat, one of many steps you need to follow if you want to survive. "It isn't far from here."
Soon enough, he realizes where you are headed.
"Wait. Didn't you tell him? You swore me you would call him."
You know what you said, the things you promised only a few hours ago. But it only took a few minutes for your resolve (what little there was of it) to disappear. The phone weighed heavy in your hand. Besides, they were sleeping behind their closed doors. What if someone heard you and ruined a perfectly good escape?
"It's better face to face," you reason. Jongwoon groans, small hands gripping the steering wheel.
The rest of the ride goes on in silence. The neighborhood is dark and quiet, just like every time you've come wake him up to monopolize his very being. Then you see his house. Fuck.
"You don't really want to do this, do you?" Jongwoon asks. Every single time your boyfriend has come up in conversation since you decided to leave town together, he has asked the same damn question. No, of course you don't want to do this, but what's the point? You've already given him your reasons, so many times you could recite them from memory.
"Can't he come along with us?"
Blocking out bad memories is a talent, one you thought you'd successfully developed and perfected. But then, you receive some stupid message from a ghost and the walls keeping all your demons from spilling out and wreaking havoc on your heart and psyche break into pieces so tiny you'll need to rebuild them from scratch.
Fucking Jongwoon.
In the three days since he messaged you, you keep reliving the past. In dreams, while awake; in the bath or even sitting on the toilet seat… There they are. You can deal with the pain from all your dealings with your family, or with school bullying, and even painful breakups. Your early adulthood was a haze, so no loss there.
"I can't continue watching you kill yourself." (His voice is so clear in your head.)
"I'm tired. I am so fucking tired it's a damn miracle I haven't offed myself already," another voice filled with exhaustion cuts in. You close your eyes tightly and cover your ears with your hands. Your memories of him are the worst. There's so much you could have done, but you pushed him harder and harder, needing him to prove his acceptance of you was absolute and unconditional. He tolerated so much of your shit, until you pushed him to…
No, no thinking about those few days, of him storming out, and then everything that happened, and his body, so lifeless…
You scream (as loudly as you dare in this tiny bedroom). The longer you ignore your former friend, the worse your state of mind will get. You know it, but you just can't bring yourself to do anything about it.
What to do?
What to do?
You grab your phone. Briefly, you consider calling Attractive Guy, you could really use a distraction. No. What if there's alcohol involved?
You could call Changmin. It's still early (sort of). He would listen. And give you tough love you're not in the mood for. There's also Junsu, but even though he isn't afraid to speak his mind, he's still way too nice.
There's also him. Blech. You don't want to call Yunho. Sometimes, he's too kind; others, he borders on hurtful. Still, he may just be what you need, and you definitely need something.
An annoyed sigh later, you call. The worst that can happen is he refuses to answer.