Unexpected Circumstances

GVpozxs.png

"Huh...? You didn't know that?" Tae furrowed his brows in Noeul's general direction, surprised that his own best friend was unaware of his race. He could have sworn that during the years of knowing each other, Noeul would come to a conclusion that the dialect he spoke when infuriated was Korean. He could have also sworn that he told Noeul about his mother and father, how his mother was full Korean and his dad being full blown American: Big, close-minded, and full of shit.

He blinked at Noeul, a loud laugh escaping his lips when his friend spoke about the little imagination of how Sen and he acted. The smile soon went towards his eyes because all of it was true. They were like a little couple before they even became the real deal. Switching lunches because their parents didn't tend to their appetites, playfully shoving each other and holding hands like they were actual brothers by blood. He softly nodded, agreeing with Noeul until he started insulting him. "'Ey. Don't be talkin' shit 'bout me now when we just made up man. 'Straight laced', like bitch please..." Tae paused, unsure of how to answer Noeul's question. He didn't even know why Sen would work at Skin Adorn to begin with. Sure he liked tattoos, but he hated drugs, loathed druggies, insulted hippies, abhorred hipsters, threw up at the mention University of Oregon and their 21,000+ drug users, and detested the counterculture of the 1960s. "To be honest with you man, I don't know why the hell he joined. I don't give a shit about his shit, and I wouldn't care to know."

It was never his business to prod and poke at his coworkers, since all of them had some story that would give him an aneurysm, hypertension, or severe depression. The last time Tae popped the, 'What brings you in here?' question he was forced to sit through 5 hours of his drugged out coworker's stupid story. Maybe Sen wasn't in it for the drugs. Maybe he was in it for the organ donors or the human trafficking. Chills ran up his spine at the thought of his friend being into that sort of thing, but it made Tae wonder why he himself was in there in the first place.

The first reason he could come to was that he hated the high pedestal his parents put him on. There was too much of an expectation from the minute he was conceived. He was pigeonholed into becoming a straight A student who could dance and play the piano and have a bunch of friends but still had to devote his time to studying. The second reason being that he released his guilt, remorse, and anger for disappointing his parents on rebellious things. The only way he thought he could let go of his insecurities was to do all the things his parents didn't like.

Drugs were his first escape, trying every sensation in the market until he started turning it into some academic joke by memorizing their medical names. Practicing tattoos on himself was the second, experimenting with his sexuality the third. The third reason, the most prominent one he could think of, was when the moment Jordan picked him off the streets, the moment where his current boss persuaded him into internal desires, the minute he said he could find a family of his own, a family that was proud of him, a family that would admire his talents as is despite how he looked or what he got himself into, was the moment he decided he would work at Skin Adorn. It was an immature reason for him to join, but he was immature back then. Now, he was unsure if he felt content or even safe working there, the slow feeling of wanting to quit was eating him alive. This thought was not unfamiliar, there had been times where he had wanted to be vulgar to everyone in the store, moments of peace where he dreamed of walking out those two glass sliding doors and say goodbye to a dysfunctional chain altogether, but he just didn't have the heart to do it. The insecurity of him not being good enough anywhere else stopped him from getting another stable paying job. He knew he was too hard on himself, and he knew that if he were rejected from a job interview he would never want to work ever again.

"No! I had no fuckin' clue he was comin' to see me! I mean, I was happy about it but like, it was a bit weird how he found me out. I lied about my address when I had to fill out an official resume, since I knew what I was gettin' into. The only way Sen could have checked where I lived was in Skin Adorn's databases... I dunno man, my coworkers are geniuses but how they show off their smarts are freaky sometimes... Hell, didn't even know he was workin' for Jordan until he met me today."

He continued to talk about Sen, noticing the change of enthusiasm emitting from his friend. He knew Noeul would be like this, probably thinking all to himself that he wasn't anything special to Tae when it came down to hanging out with friends outside of Pack. It was completely untrue in Tae's eyes. He had never saw Noeul as the third wheel with any of his friends. Noeul was his first choice always. His talking slowed to a halt, looking at Noeul sympathetically.

"'Ey, if it makes you feel any better, I'd choose you over some childhood friend any day. I swear on my life." Tae pouted, speaking the full truth while looking over the movie choices indifferently.

It wasn't until he heard about Noeul's plans with taking him on some death-driven, hellish excuse of a ride that Tae's stomach started to turn with excitement. He absolutely loved heights. Hated the ocean. He could just imagine being on so many roller coasters, going on all of them twice, eating fast food and complaining at Noeul to wait so he could fully digest. He didn't even realize he was bouncing in his seat until the couch started making small and quiet noises. "Let's fuckin' go to Six Flags man! I haven't had fun in a while. Plus, it'll be a good time to catch up! I'm so excited!" Tae squealed in excitement, taking another big swig of the rum and coughing out its strength and appeal.

"No, I don't want to watch The Babadook. What kind of a name is that anyway? Not only is it under the Horror genre, but it has a shitty name. First you're makin' me drink shit," he said, lifting up his own bottle of Bacardi "Now you're tryin' to make me watch it? Damn, that's fucked up."

After a failed attempt to cling to his friend, Tae decided to pay attention and watch the movie. On occasion, he would get silent little notifications, from someone swiping right on a dating app to a reminder letting him know that he needs to water his Bonzai trees in the patio.

"My phone is on silent, shithead." Tae grumbled, his swearing climbing to an all time high due to the alcohol in his bloodstream. He eventually gave in to the courtesy of cinema etiquette, turning off his phone and setting it on the glass top coffee table as soon as his friend did. He crossed his arms and huffed, eyes staring at the TV though his mind was elsewhere.

After a few more gulps of the Bacardi, the lightweight, half-empty bottle told him he was about to get drunk. He grumbled to himself again, knowing that the effects were starting to kick in. Tae knew exactly how he acted when he was drunk, and he embraced it like a revolution. Imagine a 12 year old sitting in the back of a car on a long road trip, getting woken up from a 30 minute nap just for some stupid landmark. All of a sudden, the 12 year old sees 5 familiar constellations in the night sky, and suddenly the pre-teen lifestyle made complete sense. Tae being drunk consisted of being cranky, grumpy, and deep. His voice was low, as if he had woken up from a deep slumber. At times, when the moment was right, Tae would start up a deep conversation with anyone that was in the room, contemplating life on earth and how reality shows about people out in the wilderness came to be.

Tae got startled by Noeul's overreaction, his face soon deadpanning as he forced an excuse for an applause.

"Yeah, it was whatever." Tae said, his mood was not in for the movies. All he wanted to do was go to bed, staring at Noeul like he was a Trump supporter as his friend poked the remote into his stomach. "No, I don't wanna watch another fuckin' movie, motherfucker. I've got work tomorrow..." he groaned in response to Noeul's whining.

This bitch is drunk out of his motherfuckin' mind, Tae thought. He grabbed the remote, glaring at Noeul, the TV, and the world. He skimmed through the movies, not giving a shit about what he was watching. Suddenly, he remembered Noeul's suggestion about watching The Babadook, speaking the movie into the TV's microphone. Seeing the good ratings and the synopsis, he nodded, his mood lightening.

"Let's fuckin' watch this, huh? See if it's scary or not. And don't fuckin' be a bitch baby and complain, you gave me the remote because you love me 'n shit."

Tae held the remote in his hands, his eyes dead set on the movie because he picked out himself. He started getting into it since the very beginning, relating to the young boy who his mother truly loathed. It wasn't until 13 minutes in when the mother took out her vibrator for sexual self pleasure, Tae screamed as if he had seen Bloody Mary. Suddenly, he clinged to his friend, his face nuzzling into Noeul's arm.

"Holy shit man! Holy shit! That's even fuckin' scarier than some Babadook shit. Pussy. Scarier than any fuckin' ghost."

Tae continued to hold onto Noeul, holding on tightly in case his friend tried to pry him off. He gasped silently when the boy pushes some bully off her tree house, nodding in approval and clapping. "Daaamn, this bitch is thug as fuck man. Thug life all day, err'day." He was completely enamored by the plot, the alcohol making him immune to the pathetic excuses of a jumpscare. He could only let off a mocking laugh when the directors attempted to scare him, shaking his head and letting off a 'Bitch, you don't fuckin' scare me fucker.'

Nearing the end of the movie, Tae furrowed his brows in complete dismay, the plot thickening into complete shit. His confusion took up the majority of his attention span, completely forgetting about the movie altogether and instead focusing on how the movie could be improved and edited: with scarier scares, more gore, and more neck snapping. As the credits rolled, Tae nodded his head enthusiastically, pulling out a sarcastic face of approval as he finished the remainder of his alcohol. He didn't rate the movie, not seeing any point in rating when the majority of the reviews left on it was a mirror of his opinion. He turned to face Noeul, childishly poking at his friend's stomach.

"Nooeeeull. The best piece of shit in the entire fuckin' world... I'm sleeeeepyyy. Do you want to carry me to bed? With your big manly arms and... And your nice hair and, and big brown eyes..." Tae puckered his lips, looking at his friend while squeezing the small bit of loose skin on his friend's arms. "Noooeeeull, please? I'm tiireeedd." Tae got up, looking at Noeul with watery eyes of emotion. He was an emotional drunk when tired, that he knew all too well. He weakly slapped his fisted hand against Noeul's thigh, shaking his body around in hopes that it would get his friend to give in.

@Pray4me
 
[BCOLOR=transparent][BCOLOR=transparent][/BCOLOR]“You’re so fuckin’ hhharrrrddd to impress mmaaann,” a bottom lip was pushed into a heavy pout, big watery eyes staring up at Tae. “Then pick a movie. Go on. Stop thinkin’ ‘bout work. It’s..it’s... goin’ to suck anyway. Be late who gives a shit? You should...you should want to stay up with me instead. Go, go, pick a movie and spend more time with me.”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Feeling Tae slip the remote from his hand, Noeul kept his face in the space between Tae’s body and the back cushion of the couch. An arm rested across Tae’s lap while the other was tucked under his body, quickly becoming numb. A drunk Noeul was a mixture of different moods. From being extremely needy and whiny, to being super sensitive, passive and handsy, until a sudden shift of a mood could make him become explosive. The reasons for drinking also affected the way he acted. If drinking at a party or any social event, a lighthearted, entertaining, affectionate Noeul shined through cheery slurred words and a hearty, booming laugh on anything. It was his most common way when drunk, attracting more people towards him with his fun, positive energy. It’s what dubbed him as the hypeman, the only title Noeul was proud of. The party only began to start when Noeul was a happy drunk.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]With every positive image was a negative one. And, a depressing, drunk Noeul was the model of that. Mood swings were common, cries changed to shouts, throwing stinging insults at whoever was brave enough to try and calm him down. Fights were constantly started with Noeul in that state, shoving matches, drinks and chairs thrown, but Noeul always seemed to disappear as the fight spilled among everyone. A drunk Noeul was the classic shit-starter and that was all he could do. Start shit but could never finish it. There were times Noeul returned from a night of drinking with a bruised cheek, a black eye and a swollen, bloody lip, but the story Noeul told was him always being ‘suckerpunched for nothin’'. Noeul never learned to limit his drinking when drinks were free, but instead relied on any friend that was around, mostly Tae. Thankfully, a depressed drunk Noeul was a rare sight to be around since he always preferred to drink his pains alone.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Pushing himself up from Tae, he gave the bottle of Bacardi a tentative sip. He didn’t want to be a sloppy drunk, but wanting to maintain this perfect level of drunkenness. To maintain it was difficult. Adding more fast sips would push him over that edge, but taking too few in between a long period of time would let his buzz drop. As long as he could see the T.V without his vision blurred, he knew he was at the perfect amount of drunk.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Noeul’s face lighted at the movie Tae chose, giving a celebratory ‘yay’. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Fuck you very much Tae,” Noeul nodded with that smile, letting his head drop so low his chin nearly touched his chest. With a careless wave of his hand, he pointed at his best friend. “You, you...that’ll be you, you fuckin’...fuckin’ bitch baby. Like always when we watch scary movies. I..I see you over there hidin’ behind...umm..that pillow over dere. You’re so like, so scared you make it so damn easy to just go ‘boo!’ All your tough talkin’ bullshit ‘n your scared of a...a...shut the fuck up Tae. The movie is startin’.”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Noeul took a final drink of the rum before setting the bottle on the glass top coffee table. At the very beginning of the movie, he let his head rest crooked on the back of the cushion, eyes lazily watching as the movie began to set up the main characters and the setting. He had high expectations for the movie. Friends kept suggesting him to watch it when it was first released, discussing the plot like professional movie reviewers, and debating which style of horror was scarier. Noeul always preferred the slasher type of horror than psychological. His attention span wasn’t high enough to sit through straight dialogue and foreshadowing without some action to break up the tedious scenes. To him, the movie started off a bit slow, but the scenes were eye catching and kept his fragile attention.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Eyes started to roll upwards from a drunk tiredness, his head slumping more to the side until he suddenly felt a tight cling onto his body and a horrified scream from Tae. Noeul screamed in unison with Tae at first in pure confusion and then another scream at the shock of a random woman touching herself displayed on the widescreen TV. Tae’s constant grip on his body broke his gaze from the sight on the TV. Noeul looked down at Tae with a twisted face, flicking his lip as hands grabbed onto Tae’s shoulders.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Get...get the fuck off me man. This...this isn’t the type of Netflix ‘n chill I meant. You’re hurtin’ mmmeeeee….” a high pitch whine escaped Noeul’s drooping mouth, pushing into Tae’s shoulder with his drunken strength. “Look, look...it’s gone...the pussy monster is gone...you’re...you’re all safe now. Just let go.”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Flushed cheeks formed as Noeul continued to try and push Tae off him, but with each attempt Tae only clinged more. A new strategy was tried, to surprise Tae with a sudden push to free himself from his friend’s grip. Noeul waited until a quiet scene played in the movie before pushing again, using his knee to dig into Tae’s side. Each attempt became further and further apart as the movie played, the grip on Tae’s shoulders loosening and the knee into Tae’s side sliding down to rest against his friend’s leg. Noeul’s tense body slowly relaxed in Tae’s grip, his head returning to the pillow of the back cushion, as eyes found themselves shut. The movie engrossed Tae, keeping his best friend entertained and involved in the plot while he was snoring softly with a bad case of alcoholic breath. Hearing Tae comment broke him out of his sleep and into a puzzled state, grunting in his response before falling asleep again. The rum quickly took him into a deep, almost unconscious sleep, unresponsive to any stimulation surrounding him. It was the first time in a month that Noeul slept almost peacefully, safe in a place where all worries were temporarily gone, sleeping in a house he was familiar and wanted at with all the basic amenities. He had his only reliable support back, Tae. Finally, things felt normal again. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Noeul’s body flopped onto the couch as Tae stood, landing face first into the cushion. The sudden lack of oxygen made him release a giant snort, waking up groggily. Uneven eyes stared up at Tae, breathing raspily through an open mouth. He was just about to choose smothering himself into the couch before feeling weak slaps against his thigh and complaints. Rolling off the couch and landing back first on the floor, Noeul clumsily got onto his feet and grabbed at Tae’s wrist.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Shhh…” he carefully lead Tae upstairs with wobbly steps, using his free hand on the handrail to navigate himself through the dark. Heavy breaths came from him, each step becoming more difficult with eyes deciding to make the stairs sway. Noeul paused for a second, holding onto Tae’s wrist for help, until the swaying stopped and the stairs returned to normal for him.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]The trek to Tae’s bedroom was a risky one. Giving up on relying on his eyes, Noeul was forced to rely purely on his memory to guide Tae into the bedroom and position his friend on the side of the bed. Noeul released his hand from Tae’s grip, letting that arm swing before both hands were placed on Tae’s chest. Stepping closer, he exhaled, the smell of hot rum filling his sensitive nostrils. The bedroom was absolute black with only Noeul’s shadowy, rocking silhouette able to be seen. His hands pressed further into Tae’s chest, fingers curling slightly.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]“Who...who’s bitch ass got scared?” Noeul slurred in a quiet voice, head tilting to the side. “Don’t...don’t let that pussy monsta get ya...night fucker.”[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]With gathered strength, he shoved Tae onto the bed before twirling to face the door. Noeul closed the door as he left, listening to the distinctive ‘click’ and wandered down the stairs only tripping twice. The handrail saved Noeul from falling all the way down and potentially breaking his arm, using it instead to slide his body down with his feet trailing behind him, creating loud knocking sounds. Hunched over with arms held out, Noeul grabbed at the couch and hopped over the armrest, falling asleep before half his body landed on the couch and the other half hanging dangerously over the side. For a few hours, the shine from the TV kept him company until it automatically switched off. Noeul stayed in his deep slumber, snoring quietly throughout the morning hours, relying completely on his phone alarm to wake him up at 8am.[/BCOLOR]


[BCOLOR=transparent]@Jihae[/BCOLOR]
 
l6dm9C7.png

Warning: This post is really long to compensate for my 1 month hiatus. :)

The quiet sounds of birds chirping woke Tae up softly. A single eye blinked open, welcoming the incoming sunlight that peeked through maroon silk curtains. A tired groan escaped drool-stained lips, Tae's body stretching out to get the blood flowing. Out of nowhere a pounding headache broke him out of his slumber completely, sitting up from the bed while a cold hand touched his forehead.

"Fuck... What time is it?..." Looking at the neon green digital clock from across the room, his puffy eyes tried to see if he was late to work or not. Tae silently hoped and prayed that he was late, so maybe then he could avoid his coworkers, his boss, and sleep off his hangover. Grabbing his thin framed glasses off the bedside table, his vision cleared, the clock signaling the dreaded morning hour of four o'clock. Another groan escaped his lips, his body instantly collapsing into the soft mattress while well-coordinated hands tried to grab at his pho-

"Shit, where's my phone?"
Remembering that he left precious device on the coffee table downstairs because his stupid best friend told him to, Tae rolled his eyes, his body slinking out of bed while taking the thick maroon blanket with him. Making his way to the bathroom, Tae's muscular body felt like dead weight, every dreaded step conjured disgusting stomach pains while a lump in his throat begged to release all the alcohol he drank last night. Looking at his reflection in the mirror, he was confounded at the horror he gazed upon. Not wanting to see pure trash, he brushed his teeth outside of the bathroom, walking to his closet to find clothes he could wear for work. Tae settled on a black bomber jacket with a matching black muscle tee, his pants of choice being ripped skinny jeans that exposed only his bony kneecaps. Walking back into the bathroom to spit out minty fresh toothpaste, he finally gathered up the courage to fix his wavy locks and wash his face with a foaming cleanser and skin brightener. Satisfied with not looking like a drunken mess, he completed his look by putting on his glasses, knowing he was going to need it later.

After putting on a small amount of Luna Rossa Carbon and grabbing his black leather wallet, Tae made his way downstairs with silent steps, not wanting to wake his friend if he was still asleep. He walked into the living room to fetch his phone conveniently placed right next to it a sleeping Noeul. "Would've been surprised if this bitch was up at 4:30," he thought. Grabbing his phone, he took a quick look at Noeul, that quick look evolved into a gaze. Tae looked down at his phone, texting his sleeping friend.

"I'm off to work loser, treat yoself to breakfast cuz i'm not cookin for ur ass."
Hitting send, he fetched out of his wallet forty dollars to give to his best friend, placing the bills on the wooden coffee table right on top of Noeul's phone.

He left the house in his foreign car to Skin Adorn, a regrettable tattoo studio located in the bustling depths of Los Angeles. A modern building that despite being out in the open had more secrets than Victoria. Despite the business breaking impenetrable laws, the ringleader of the whole circus was a criminal mastermind that kept Skin Adorn's methods of profit hidden like a Las Vegas street corner, his circus freaks enslaved by a strict contract that only he could break anytime he wanted.

The Skin Adorn building was large and spacious, the aftermath of a "renovated" warehouse. The only color painted across the front was pure white: no wall decorations, no hand-painted signs or letterings to foretell what the business had in store, nothing. The exterior was highly decorated with flora but not fauna, and if one looked close enough it was obvious that the greenery was fake to prevent overgrowth and an overpaid mower. Large cathedral-like windows gave comfort to the customers and workers inside while a single glass door assured the company's grandiose quality. The inside of the building was exactly the same as the front, but more modern, more green, and more civilized. The sitting chairs and settees scattered across the open room were pinstriped in a dark navy. Hanging ceiling lights illuminated the white spacious warehouse so expertly that it was too bright for very sensitive eyes like Tae's. Skin Adorn strived to exceed health standards, so with every five steps taken in any direction sanitary wipes and hand sanitizers were placed on top of black marble counters. The warehouse smelled like a subtle mix of designer colognes worn by the clients that entered and left the building, sandalwood, and a hint of mint. At times, mostly during the weekends when Skin Adorn closed their doors early for "renovation", there was the sickly sweet smell of leftover beer and the balsam candles they lit in a failed attempt to diffuse the alcohol.

When Tae walked into Skin Adorn's doors three years ago the atmosphere was calm, comfortable and private. He immediately felt like family. But walking into those doors at 5 in the morning he felt violated. He was a witch in a 1690s colony, a young girl working a corner, a deformity, a freak in a circus. He was no longer a part of Jordan's coterie, the retinue he had confided in for years no longer wished for his wellbeing. His coworkers were prepping their work stations before their doors opened at 10AM until the sweet chime of the bell signaled Tae's entrance. Everyone fell silent, their eyes drilling holes into Tae's skeleton. The flight or fight response kicked in and Tae wanted nothing more but to run into his office on the other side of the warehouse. The subtle clicking of Tae's shoes as he tried to nonchalantly walk to the other side of the room only made the attention and anxiety worse.

Tae strode into his office, a room highly contrasted against the rest of the building. The paneling on the wall was dark, the cream colored lounge chairs were arranged in a strategical way to make sure that everyone who sat in his office always met his intimidating facade. It was a way to make his dark wooden desk become the focal point of the room, a way to establish dominance amongst the desperate. The majority of Tae's office was adorned with rich bookshelves, the contents within them neatly organized based on topics. Medical books ranging from drugs 101 to simple anatomy and physiology were on one side of the office, while leisure, language, and psychology books were on the other. Pills, strong herbs, and liquid drug injections were disguised inside of ink vials and were placed atop his desk. Alongside them were all the paperwork Tae needed to finish before his shift was over at 8pm. Sighing, Tae sat in his leathered office chair, taking the stack of paperwork into his own hands as his thumb fanned over the contents to prioritize. He didn't need to do much. All he needed was to pick a time for his own clients to meet in his office by next week, work on tattoo consultations, and print out consent papers.

Tae was halfway through the stack of papers when his first appointment came in through the doors. A pale, sickly thin middle aged Caucasian woman walked in tiredly. She was hand in hand with her physical equivalent of a daughter, the young girl's hair was messy and her clothes looked like it hasn't been washed in a few days. The woman had medium red dots of scars which tattered the skin between her forearm and bicep, and it was the first distinction between a person getting a tattoo, and a person who was in it for something else.

"Good morning uh, is it Yoon Tae?" she questioned, her voice just as brittle as her body.
"Yes, but you can call me Tae. You're Kierra, right? Please sit down...Oh, who is that beautiful young lady with you?"
"Huh?" the woman looked at Tae with a confused face before staring indifferently down at the little girl she was holding hands with. "Oh. She's my daughter."

As the two girls took a seat right in front of Tae's desk, there was a small moment of pity placed on the little girl. There was a brief moment where Tae wanted to take the young girl home, thinking that no child should ever be in a position for possible abandonment. It was such a shame that a parent would take such youthful innocence into Lucifer's lair. His eyes wanted to divert away from the sight but instead he continued to stare at such horror. It was as if the little girl heard his thoughts, her young and thin body getting off of the settee to walk behind Tae's desk. She stuck her arms up in the air, waiting for a tattooed man to rescue her from damnation.

"May I?" Tae looked over to the woman who was lazily taking out a vial of cadet blue nail polish from her neon red purse. The woman glanced at both man and girl before shrugging, her nails a top priority for the moment. Tae took the young girl into his arms, swinging her in the air before placing her on his lap. Seeing the action, the woman stared blankly before proceeding to stroke blue on the tip of her index finger.

"What do you need Kierra-"
The little girl stuck out a hand. "Mine too. Mommy, do mine too."
"Leave me alone," the woman said, blowing on her nail and turning her body slightly. "You're making me mess up."
The little girl occupied herself by playing around with the tattoo vials Tae had on his desk. Tae sighed on sight, peeling his body off his chair as he plucked the vial off of the girl's hand cautiously. He took the young girl into his arms as he walked around the office, trying to find something else to busy the girl with.

After a few minutes of small talk between him and the girl, Tae found that the young beauty was named Athena, that she was eight years old, and that she and her mom had been living in a "tiny hospital cafeteria" because there was a lot of needles and a lot of spoons. As soon as Kierra heard this, she began to yell cruel somethings, Athena's hands covering her ears as if she had heard something bad, something that wasn't meant for her. Gritting his teeth in a restraint to say something, Tae settled for "The Incredible Truth About Motherhood", an animal photography book where mothers cared for their young. He sat back at his desk, the young girl skimming through the pages with a gleam of hope in her eyes.

"Oh, Athena can't read, she's a little bit slow in the head," Kierra commented, almost done with her nails. "Then isn't about time she learned?" Tae interjected unintentionally. Once again, the woman shrugged, putting the vial back into her purse. "I need something from you Tae."

"I know you do Kierra, everyone comes here for a reason."
"Look, I'm going to cut to the chase. I need Speed-"
"Mommy, what's a Speed?"
"Something only for smart people Athena, you can't use it."
Tae could only watch the pathetic spectacle unfold. He was only here to give and to get, not to interject, not to pry. He expertly took two emerald green tattoo vials from his little metal rack before giving it to Kierra, wanting to go home to think about his career choice. Before receiving his $20 cash payment, he stared at the young girl with apologetic eyes. "Be good to your mommy, okay Athena?"
The young girl opened her mouth as if say to something, but Kierra immediately cut her off with a rush to leave. As Kierra reached over Tae's desk to try and break the girl away from Tae, Athena began to cry messily, holding onto the black bomber jacket Tae wore for dear life.

Tae's heart broke seeing the two girls leave his office, but it quickly repaired itself and jumped out of his chest seeing the next person that came into his own sacred space. The man was wearing sunglasses, but his thin frame, silver grilled smile, and tattooed arm gave him away.

"Nice to see you again, honey." Jordan said, taking off his glasses to expose his doe-like eyes. Tae's heart began to pound and his fingers snatched at the edge of his desk, holding it until his knuckles turned a tanned white. Jordan placed his glasses atop of his head, walking towards Tae with a motive in sight. Tae's boss rolled his jacket sleeve off to expose a new tattoo wrapped tightly in saran wrap. Jordan looked at Tae and raised his eyebrows at him to see what he thought of the new piece, but Tae didn't show any sign of thought. Tae's heart wanted to jump out of his mouth and splatter on the floor at the sight of the new ink, the numbers 04, 25, 93 plastered on his bosses arm. It didn't make sense how Jordan could have Tae's birthday forever etched into his skin.

"You like it, honey? You know these numbers mean something. They mean a lot to me anyway. It's your birthday, but I'm sure you could already tell."
"Why do you have my birthday on your arm Jordan?" Tae questioned with a scared and shaky voice, his throat already going dry.
"Because it shows that I know a lot about you sweetheart. I know your birthday and all about you, lots of things. Since you just came out of jail, how 'bout I give you a ride home? But before that, why don't I take you out on a nice drive? It's the least I can do after what got released inside your little cell-"
"You asshole," Tae said, immediately angered by being reminded of what happened during his month in jail. Jordan could only look at this act and burst into hysteric laughter, Jordan's hand slapping at his thigh as if he had heard the most funniest joke on the planet.

"Oh man, I'm so lucky. My sweetheart is so funny. No one can make me laugh as much as you do Tae. You make me laugh because you love me, and that's why I love you." Tae's mouth curled into a frown, only noting how pale the skin around Jordan's eyes was, like holes that were not in shadow but instead in light. Jordan's eyes were like chips of broken glass that catch the light in an amiable way. Jordan smiled, catching Tae's gaze in his own.

"Just for a ride Tae, you'll be home before you know it." Jordan stood there so stiffly relaxed, pretending to be relaxed, with one hand idly on Tae's desk as if he were keeping himself up that way and had no intention of ever moving again.

"Can I take a rain check on that please?" Tae begged. Hearing that there was a possibility of Tae being with him soon, Jordan beamed in delight, dismissing the need to go somewhere this afternoon for a possibility of a beautiful future. "Sure sweetie, anything for you. Are you going home now?"
"No. I've got a lot of work that I need to finish up before I go."
"Alright, I'll let you head back to it...But give me a kiss first."
"What?"
"You heard me sweetheart."

Jordan removed himself from Tae's desk and walked over to the other side of the room, the only side of the office with a large window attached to it. It was as if Jordan wanted to see Tae get up, to see his future lover walk in such a marvelous way to only show nothing but love to him. Jordan's imagination quickly transformed into Tae walking in a sensual way, walking so sexily just for him and him only. The mere thought made a blush rise to his cheeks, the coloration catching the light from the sun outside. Tae was put in a state of shock and confusion, wondering if what he heard from his boss was true. His voice stammered, trying to reject the demands made by his only source of income.

"I'm sorry Jordan, but that's against the contract I signed with you."
Hearing rejection, Jordan's face fell blank, a hint of anger lingering in the corners of his mouth. "Tae sweetheart, we've had this conversation before. What did I say about our contract?"

Tae grit his teeth, remembering his time in the alleyway with his boss.
"Our contract doesn't mean anything, it only proves that you can write," Tae said, Jordan chiming in on his love's recital with a glad tone to his voice. He was extremely joyous at the fact that Tae could remember all of their moments together. It could only foreshadow the rest of the beautiful moments they were going to share as an official couple.

"Now, my kiss?"

Under a spell of money, drugs, and submission, Tae walked away from his desk and over to Jordan, his knees buckling a few times as his boss could only look at him with admiration and pleasure in his irises. Jordan placed a firm hand on Tae's waist, pulling his love closer so their bodies could touch with no room for escape. Tae's eyes started to water, wanting to go home to see the only person who could make everything feel right. He looked up at Jordan, his mind recalling his night in the alleyway. He was face to face with his rapist for the first time in months, and he already felt like his heart and lungs were going to do a satisfying pop inside his body. Tae's lips pressed hesitantly to Jordan's cheek, immediately pulling away at the touch. He looked to Jordan once more, catching sight of a smile that would haunt him for decades. Tae's boss clicked his tongue, the sound ringing in his ears triumphantly.

"My baby is so proper. I like that about you. You don't fool around with me, you don't fool around with anybody." His last sentence sounded like a demand, as if subliminally telling Tae to not have another man in his sights.

The cold touch of Jordan's hand on his hips left him, the distinctive click of his office door left him alone and at peace. Tae could only stare out the window, a single tear falling from his face at a complete loss for words. Wiping it away, Tae grabbed the unfinished stack of papers, his phone and his car keys, heading home to do his work there. Tae quickly turned on his phone as he rushed out of Skin Adorn, the screen already on Noeul's messages. Seeing his best friend's name at the top of his screen made him feel ten times better.

"Hey bff in the entire world~ i'm heading home early. Bad day and boss is being a total dick. hope you're there."

@Pray4me
 
Last edited:

On a small plot of land in the middle of two junkyards guarded with chain linked fences and white plastic siding weaved through, was a crackerbox concrete building completely void of windows. The facade was originally painted white, but after decades facing the brutal Los Angeles sun, the pain began to chip and curl, exposing the concrete block underneath. In a cheap way to beautify this prison block of a building, advertisement posters were glued on. One showed a fun pack of chips, about four of them for a good price of $3. Next to that was the daily deal of energy drinks, Monsters, Redbulls and Rockstars, two for $5 mix and match. Beside that advertised what they called a ‘day to yourself’, a bundle of two packs of cigarettes, a six pack of beer, and a plate of tamales all for $7. Other posters were plastered over the walls of the front of the neighborhood mini market, most noticeably the Super Lotto sticker and scratchers. On the opened, house door hanged the market’s health rating, a B- and their license to sell alcohol.

Riding up to the mini market was the oldest of men on a bicycle most likely bought for him by his adult children. A cherry red mountain bike that looked very similar to the typical ones sold at Walmart, with a single blinker on the back and added reflectors on the handlebars and pedals. The man was a mystery all around. His weathered, sun beaten face hid what race he was, the heavy wrinkles pulling his face down to the point he looked he could be anyone’s grandfather. Underneath his dusty baseball hat was smooth, peppered hair, tuffs of the locks stuffed behind his ears with hanging earlobes. A hidden smile shined brightly against the break of the storm, glowing in the sunlight as ripped flip flops pumped the pedals, ashy feet adjusting the speed of the bike as he approached the market. He was wearing a simple red flannel shirt and blue jeans, a silver chain necklace hanging around him with a random charm ringing. By his instinctive look, it was clear he was an immigrant to the country. His hazel eyes held hundreds of stories of his travels to the U.S, for a better life, for his family to have a chance to prosper. He gladly accepted America, becoming extremely patriotic during his years of overcoming whatever struggle he was escaping from. The man spoke very little English, apparent by his expressive hands that waved to everyone that made eye contact with him and how he only went ‘Hey!’ with an uneven voice. But, even with the lack of language for communication, the man was well liked in this area of Los Angeles. He loved everyone and everyone loved him.

He parked his bike against the power pole that stood right in front of the mini market and adjusted his hat. Pulling out his used leather wallet, he let his fingers roll through the few papers of dirty cash until he pulled out a single $5 bill. Through the open doorway, the cashier called out to him in the happiest of tones, already filling a plastic bag of the man’s usual items he bought. The old man tipped his hat and walked forward, looking back to check on his cherished bicycle, before taking a step inside the air conditioned, dim market.

And like that, concealed in a blur of white and blue, the bicycle was suddenly gone. Noeul gave the bike a running start before stepping up on a single pedal, gliding on it for a few yards before throwing his leg over to the other pedal and taking a seat. Being an experienced bicyclist, he rode hands free, knowing how to keep the handlebar and front wheel of the bike straight as he ate his breakfast bacon and egg Crunch wrap from Taco Bell. His other hand held his phone, staring down at it every few seconds to check his messages and his map. A thumb opened the message from Tae, a egg and hashbrown filled chuckle escaped behind chewing teeth.

“I’ll thank you later man, I got shit to do,” he said to himself with a full mouth.

Somehow, despite having a mini hangover, he was able to wake up at the time of 8am thanks to the multiple alarms he purposely set. On his day off, Noeul never woke up this early. Or, sometimes at all. He worked for so many hours during the week that with any break he got, he made sure to appreciate the hours free he had to himself. That usually meant spending most of them with Tae, but with his best friend off to work and having to complete this unexpected chore of the day, Noeul gathered the strength to get up with a dull headache. Luckily for him, he always kept a small overnight bag and Tae’s house, wearing his emergency white hoodie and light blue straight leg jeans. On his feet were his favorite pair of white Keds, the bottoms starting to rub off from being constantly worn.

Looking up ahead, he avoided a family with a stroller, his leg brushing the shoulder of a little boy holding onto his mother’s hand. His ears ignored the vulgar language she screamed at him and took another big bite out of his breakfast. This area he was very, very...very familiar with. It was the neighborhood just beside his home, another hangout of his during his childhood. Being back gave Noeul a bit of a stomachache, but thankfully he was just riding through the area to get to a former friend’s family house. The ache wasn’t enough to ruin his appetite as he finished his Crunchwrap in only four bites and tossed the wrapper in a passing trashcan.

Noeul could have traveled to his destination through his childhood neighborhood, but at the last moment when getting off the bus, he directed his body away from the main street that led back home. The bus didn’t stop in the destination he was heading too, forcing Noeul to accept that he had to make a very rare visit back to memories.

The area was exactly the same as he left it. A transitional neighborhood with the poor living with the middle class, original apartment buildings giving way to pockets of nicely built homes behind protective gates. The neighborhood was free of any tall trees, the closest to native California trees being power poles converted into artistic pieces of green painted metalwork welded on. Flowerbeds were built next to bushes of weeds, luscious green lawns proudly showing off to abandoned lots with nothing but hard dirt and pockets of sawgrass. There was a point the transitional neighborhood was turning into a true middle class neighborhood as more nicely built, gated communities took over the recently sold apartments. Noeul remembered meeting those type of children growing up, having their full families still together living easily with most things they wanted. But, as usually, the ghetto always returned. Those middle class families left as they got tired of seeing the rest. The gated homes turning into rent controlled houses, attracting more poor families, and reverting the progress this neighborhood was going back to what it original was. Now, it really wasn’t any better than Noeul’s home neighborhood besides the area being a little bit prettier.

It was shock to learn that Andrew’s family lived just a single neighborhood beyond his. Andrew always came off as extremely well off like the rest of the Pack with a childhood that rivaled those from the hills. And yet, Andrew in retrospect wasn’t any better than Noeul. The biggest difference, Andrew did something with his life to get him out while Noeul was just too lazy to do much for himself.

That had to be why Andrew invited Noeul into the Pack. They were the same in a sense, but Noeul needed help. Noeul needed some sort of guidance and at that time Andrew was the best choice. It was Andrew who approached Noeul at the local park playing basketball and started conversations. While Noeul wouldn’t say they clicked during their first introduction, they were both friendly enough to stay in contact, to share social medias, to hangout together a couple of times a month until Andrew invited him to join the Pack. The invite was random, catching Noeul off guard that someone who presented themselves so orderly and put together would invite someone like him in an official, yet unofficial ‘gang’. Seeing his opportunity to be part of a group to gain him warranted respect, Noeul gladly accepted without a second thought.

But now, Noeul wasn’t sure about Andrew. His conversation with Kenny still played in his mind, specifically the point where Kenny said Andrew deserved to get killed. Combing through social media, he met others who didn’t speak too highly of Andrew, but none knew him enough to comment further on that fact. It took Noeul days to discover Andrew’s real information with help, finding Andrew’s family’s social media and discovering of their move out of California.

“Here it is!” Noeul hooked a left, carelessly zipping through a wide intersection. A neon green Dodge Charger blared its horn and suddenly stopped to avoid colliding into Noeul, but to only be read-ended by a SUV that was following too closely.

Noeul was too focused to hear the screams of the drivers trying to call out to him and kept his eyes glued to his phone. He followed the navigation on the screen, the little blue triangle guiding him through a neighborhood with houses built in the 1950’s. Every house was painted some shade of brown, had the same size lawn with the grass replaced by white sparkly rocks, and a basketball hoop was parked in front of every garage. The houses were either single or two story, some had balconies in the front while others had a gated porch. In all, it was a very stereotypical, basic Los Angeles family neighborhood. All that was missing was the local elementary school that everyone went to and had the best playground.

You have reached your destination.

Noeul biked down the quiet street and stuck his phone into his pocket, seeing the moving truck being loaded with boxes and furniture wrapped in bubble wrap. Riding past the single story house slowly, Noeul scoped the street and the house, noticing that no one was around. It was eerily quiet and dead feeling, like the place was hit with a chemical gas and silently killing everyone. Noeul exited the street and looped back to the street, this time parking his bike in a patch of bushes that lined side yard of a random house. He brought his white hoodie over his head and made his way to the house that sat on the very center of the neighborhood.

Noeul pretended to be a curious local of the neighborhood, staring into the truck, his lips sticking out with prepared questions, looking for any humans to chat with about the move. The truck was void of people, the back open for anyone to jump in and go through random boxes and furniture to learn how this family lived. Skipping up the pathway to the front door, Noeul placed a hand on the door and felt it swing open slowly with minimal effort. Poking his head through, Noeul casually walked in as if he was a prior visitor, taking in the sight of a nearly cleared, empty home. The walls were a hospital white, clean and shiny, as the sandy colored carpet was mostly clean besides the few juice stains that were common in a family home. Noeul walked into the living room and stood still. He heard nothing, absolutely nothing. He licked his dry lips, peering into the renovated chef’s kitchen that still had some boxes that needed to taped up. He let his eyes roam the living room, checking out the exposed beams on the ceiling, and followed the white painted brick fireplace to the mantle. It was there he spotted what he was looking for. Sitting incredibly lonely like the last moments of life, rested a smoothly carved, dark stained urn free from any inscriptions or patterns. Making his way over, Noeul carefully lifted the urn from the mantle, seeing the ring of dust stuck on the edge of the bottom. He gently blew the dust off, eyeing what he was holding.

“Probably never expected it would be me, huh?” Noeul talked before stuffing the foot long urn underneath his hoodie and cradling it like a baby.

And like how he entered, Noeul exited the house without hearing or spotting anyone.The experience felt abnormal, abandoned, that Andrew should have been guarded safer with family always around and yet he was left alone, waiting patiently for anyone to help and for comfort. Andrew was the type of guy who always surrounded himself with everyone, a friendly guy that could easily convert the worse of people to good. But, when the time was needed for them to help Andrew, no one was around. It was like he was forgotten. Noeul quickly walked to the bike he hid in the bushes, checking around for any nosy neighbors that may have spotted him. Wheeling the bike from the bushes, Noeul jumped on and biked out the still neighborhood, seeing the accident in the center of the intersection. The two men were too occupied discussing with the officer on the scene to notice the cause of their collision calmly biking away patting a huge bump underneath his hoodie.

It was a struggle biking with one hand and the other holding an unbalanced urn underneath a thick hoodie. Noeul could feel the ashes angrily tilt around with each bump he ran over on the sidewalk. The few people who moved out his way gave concerned and awkward stares, assuming correctly that he was hiding something he stole. To Noeul, the thought of stealing Andrew away didn’t register to him. He believed he was doing his friend his last favor and in a way an act of apologizing for letting Andrew die. He was the last one to see Andrew at the club. Noeul saw Andrew leave, that memory playing vividly as he biked down the main street. Guilt plagued him. If Noeul just called out to Andrew and asked where he was going, maybe that quick act could have saved his friend from being killed. Noeul most likely would have followed Andrew out and stuck beside him outside. It seemed unlikely for the murdered to still attack Andrew if Noeul was with him. Andrew would have at least one more night to be alive.

“Stop movin’ ‘round…” Noeul gritted his teeth as the bike wobbled, trying to hold the urn securely against his stomach.

By the position of the sun barely hanging above the train of power poles that lined the street, it was just about to hit 10am. Noticing the traffic increasing, Noeul turned into a side street to keep his profile low. He wasn’t one to be spotted by the police mostly due his happy smile that always shined on his face. But, he didn’t want this to be that fated day some random cop decided to stop him just to pick fun. There was no good explanation about carrying an urn.

The side street held single story, boxy homes with chain linked fences to protect their unkempt lawns. Bars were bolted on most of the windows while the front door was always secured with a heavy storm gate. Stay at home mothers were the only ones out, watering what was left of their flower beds underneath the giant bay windows of their homes, wearing either robes or their husband’s large T-shirts. With an empty street all to himself, Noeul rode along the exact center. His legs pumped the pedals in a fluid motion, casually cruising onward to somewhere. Tae wasn’t home. There was no point in going to his best friend’s house right now. Noeul wasn’t the type to wait around for someone, especially at home with nothing to do. Being a social creature, Noeul craved all types attention from anyone when his choice of bugging, Tae, wasn’t around. All he was looking for was a place to stay low until Tae came back from his job.

Out the corner of his eye, he spotted a silver sedan trailing closely behind him. The bumper was just inches from the back wheel of his bike. He waved for the car to go behind him, scooting off center slightly for the car to get passed. The silver sedan with its back windows tinted full back cruised next to him, the driver’s window rolling down to reveal a woman with the front of her cocoa hair in a slight poof, the rest falling over her shoulders and cascading over her cleavage she purposely powdered to show off behind a white tank top.

“Aye shit, look who the fuck it is!” the woman smirked, giving a small wave to Noeul.

Her passenger, a man whose face was hidden behind a extra wide baseball cap leaned over her. His brown eyes widened as they landed on Noeul, a smile appearing on his dry face.

“Guess the rumors are true! Noeul! You back?!” the man pulled himself over the woman and nearly out the window. “Noeul!”

Noeul tossed his head to the side and nearly wobbled off his bike. He recovered at the last moment of losing balance, his trademark smile flashing on his blushed face.

“Anders? Angelica? No way!” Noeul slowed to the stop as the car idled in the middle of the street. He leaned against the driver's door, peering inside at the two. “I thought you two would have been gone from here.”

“The fuck you talkin’ about Noeul? You can never leave this place no matter how hard you try. You’re the perfect example. What got you back here?” annoyed by Anders across her, Angelica pushed him by his face away. “Got sick of those uppity sissy boys you were rollin’ with?”

“That’s not what I heard. He’s still hangin’ out with one of them. We heard what happened to that group you were in. Tough break. We know you didn’t kill the guy Noeul. You’re too much of a nice guy,” Anders sat back in the passenger seat, peering over Angelica’s body to stare over at Noeul. “You doing okay with that?”

Two childhood friends from the same, yet different worlds. Anders was Noeul’s right hand man during their time growing up, being his sidekick through the years of attending all grades of school. Anders was very similar to Noeul in a lot of ways, but lacked Noeul’s charm and was legitimately a dumbass. While the same age, Anders was held two years back. It forced Noeul to find other friends during the school hours to hang out with as their schedules were never the same. While being stupid, Anders lack of knowledge was all put into his creative side, creating beautiful and masterful pieces of street and photo realism art. His illegal graphics were painted all over Los Angeles, creating a cult following of his work. No one knew of his appearance, but only by his alternative name, CNCO.

Angelica lived on the other side of Noeul’s neighborhood, but was a frequent guest to his streets. Being the oldest at 28, Angelica adopted Noeul and Anders as her own family as compensation for losing her own child at the young age of 24. Noeul was there during the whole dramatic, depressing event in Angelica’s time, helping her throughout her pregnancy, was invited to the birth, and even babysat her daughter while Angelica went on a trek to find the baby’s father. Angelica then suddenly disappeared after the sudden death of her child, rumors circling that she went to stay with family in Mexico to recover from her broken heart. She only came back after hearing of Noeul’s and Ander’s antics, putting a quick stop to their risky, childish games of trying to earn respect through crimes from others around. With Noeul choosing to break up this trio to follow Andrew, Angelica placed all her urging motherly instincts onto Anders.

Noeul straightened the bike from leaning on the door of the car, shuffling the urn underneath his hoodie. Angelica eyed his stomach,sucking on her teeth as she stared up at Noeul.

“What are you hiding Noeul? What did you take? Lift up your hoodie and let me see,” Angelica rested her elbows on the steering wheel. “You still doing that petty stealing shit?”

“This isn’t petty. This is fuckin’ necessary...mind your business Angelica. Don’t you got somewhere to go or somethin’? Like tellin’ whoever is talkin’ ‘bout me that I’m ‘round? Who the fuck is spreadin’ these rumors 'bout me anyway? Wait...let me fuckin’ guess...it’s Kenny, isn’t it?” Noeul flicked his lower lip at that name.

Anders and Angelica suddenly leaned up, their eyes widen.

“Kenny? I haven’t heard that name in fucking years…” Anders began.

“Kenny isn’t dead?” Angelica cut in, her polished fingers running along the steering wheel nervously.

Noeul looked at the two, taken back at their reaction and their talk. He blinked.

“He isn’t dead...I saw him a day or two ago at that part of town no one wants to go to. You know, that part with all those fake business fronts hidin’ the fact some illegal shit is probably goin’ down,” Noeul explained, rubbing the urn over his hoodie like having an irritable bowel episode. “You guys haven’t seen him ‘round here?”

Anders shook his head, taking off his baseball cap to quickly smooth his hand over his thick, espresso hair.

“No man. I heard he moved after graduation back to some country. I haven’t seen or heard of anyone seein’ him around here,” Anders placed the cap back on his head. “I hope you’re wrong Noeul. That dude was a fucking creeper. He always stalked us back in the day.”

“I fuckin’ saw him Anders. He even gave me a ride back to a place I’m stayin’,” Noeul’s eyes bounced between the two, finding it hard to believe that the two people who stayed in the same area for this many years hadn’t noticed Kenny’s return. “You sure you two haven’t seen him ‘round here?”

“If you saw him there Noeul then he’s up to no good,” Angelica brought up, letting her hands drop from the steering wheel and onto her khakis. “Why were you there? What mess you got yourself into if you’re spending time at that place?”

Feeling the front pocket of his hoodie vibrate, he took out his phone and thumbed over the screen to see Tae’s newest message. His eyes quickly scanned the message, surprised how quick Tae was home. It was still morning, barely 10:30 in the morning. Seeing the peppy message, Noeul figured Tae had a decent day and was in a pretty good mood. A small smile appeared on his concern face, the thought of Kenny and these rumors about him temporarily disappearing. Noticing the smile, Angelica reached out and shook the bike.

“What’s with that smile? Got a text from someone you were waiting for?” Angelica sneered, sticking out the very tip of her tongue seductively. “Well then, we’ll let you get to her. You know, our numbers never changed. Message us sometime Noeul. Let’s get the trio back together. We did miss you, especially me. I miss my lil baby!”

Shifting the car into drive, she let it roll forward slowly.

“Take it easy, Noeul,” she wiggled her fingers at him. “...and be careful.”

“Yo see you Noeul! If you need a place to stay, call me! I got a bed just for you!” Anders stuck half his body out Angelica’s side of the window, forming his hand to shape like a phone at Noeul before being slapped back into his seat by an always abusive Angelica.

Noeul gave a friendly wave goodbye before slipping his phone back into his pocket. With a push off, he let the bike glide forward to begin his trip back to Tae’s. Kenny was already out of his thoughts, but not out of his phone. The latest message from the mysterious childhood friend appeared, but the vibration notification was promptly ignored as Noeul made it his focus to bike his way to Tae safely.

Walking up to Tae’s house, he hopped the gate and ran up to the front door. The bike he had was parked safely back in front of the mini market as if it never left. Noeul skipped onto the bus to finish the rest of the trip back to Tae’s, trying his best to look inconspicuous with a large lump underneath his clothes. The bus was crowded with students from the local community college and families returning home from a day of shopping. It was lucky for Noeul as the crowd shielded him from being spotted from any aware eyes, but forced Noeul to stand all the way in the back since all the seats were taken. He spent his time on the bus talking to a student, learning she was studying music in hopes of joining the Los Angeles Harmonics. Going to an orchestra wasn’t anywhere on his list of things to do, but after talking to her Noeul promised to someday see her in person when she’s accepted into the orchestra.

Kicking the door, Noeul waiting for Tae to open it before barging in.

“Man...you won’t believe the day I had Tae. But, look what I brought,” placing the urn on the table, he took a giant step to the side with a big smile. He motioned his hands to the urn like a model on a gameshow. “You guess who it is? It’s Andrew! I, like heard his family was movin’ and takin’ him with them and I was like ‘Fuck that. He belongs here and to the Pack’. So I went and got him. There was no way he deserves to be kept in that wooden vase thing his whole dead life and put on display for his family at some new house out of state. He deserves somethin’ proper, don’t you think man? I don’t know what...but proper. Don’t be all shy and shit. Come say hi to him. Pay some fuckin’ respect.”


@Jihae
 
Last edited by a moderator:
Before leaving the Skin Adorn workhouse, Tae reentered the brightly-lit building, scanning the room in a scatter before shouting, "Hey, can anyone give me Spice?"
In an instant Tae's coworkers locked eyes as if he was fresh meat, and in a way he was. It was an unsettling trip down memory lane, remembering his first week on the job as a tattoo artist.
--
A young and rambunctious 20 year old Tae moved to California with hopes of his dreams being fulfilled under Jordan's console and management. It took him a good while to transfer all of his college credits to UCLA but when he did, he stopped pursuing a bachelor's degree in Interpreting to instead major in Psychobiology. His educational pathway was and still is a little white lie he tells everybody in case someone judges him for never changing his academic ways. During his first week in the state, Tae had already bought himself a small studio apartment, an easy ten-minute walk from the Skin Adorn "Headquarters".

On the first day of work he arrived half an hour early, watching intently as the returning workers greeted one another in the main lobby. Weekends were reminisced upon and questions were raised concerning mutual friends with names like Taylor and Alex. Regardless of their nationalities, everyone spoke what sounded to him like excellent English with eloquent jargon, Tae already feeling left out being the only Asian-American in the room with the exception of Jordan. The babble and brilliance exuded from Tae's coworkers exhibited an ease and confidence that he personally found intimidating. As an added discomfort, they were all young, attractive, and well-dressed, causing Tae to feel not unlike any other racial or language minority.

The first day on the job was nerve-racking because Tae knew he'd be expected to perform. That’s the way they do it here and he was glad he caught on quick – it’s everybody into the ink pool, sink or swim. Jordan being the ringleader of the circus marched in, deeply tanned from a recent 40 minute vacation, and proceeded to rattle off a series of administrative announcements. Tae himself spent quite a few summers in tattoo studios in Oregon, and he took a month long tattoo class before leaving to California. Tae was not completely in the dark, yet he understood only half of what this boss was saying. “If you have not meimslsxp or lgpdmurct by this time, then you should not be in this room. Has everyone apzkiubjxow? Everyone? Good, Skin Adorn will open with a palicmkrexis. I will repeat, if you have not fiuscrzsa or ticiwelmun by now, you are not in a position to work for me. Oh, I forgot to mention, we have a new worker in here today. Everyone, Yoon Tae Choi. Be nice.”

Because it was a tattoo studio to the public eye, all of his coworkers scanned his virgin skin with brutal sagacity as lambaste gossip about him immediately followed pursuit. As the days trudged on, Tae gained his well-maintained reputation through countless all-nighters at Skin Adorn, staying with Jordan the whole night and learning the tricks of the trade until he passed out in well earned spacious office.

During the week he progressively gave himself a full on sleeve, a proud piece of art that gained the attention of the Skin Adorn crew. Enough to have the others gladly place their art on his body where his arms could not reach.
--
Before his time in jail, before Jordan spread his dirty lies, he found comfort in his coworkers and they the same. Now, it was all diminishing right before his eyes. Welcome to Skin Adorn: Where you must learn to juggle interchangeable personalities, flying tattoo autoclaves, and the constant risk of your boss spreading the rumor that you liked the way he touched you.

In the corner of his eye he saw a man approaching. His need to leave the building as soon as possible overtook his attention span and curiosity in the figure. The only thing he could remember about the guy was him giving him two packets of his kryptonite, a silver, medium-sized package containing a poorly drawn illustration of the Eye of Horus right in the front.

"Thanks... Hey, are you new?"
"Yeah."
"Cool...See you around I guess."

Tae immediately grabbed the two packets out from the man's freezing touch. Confused by how cold the guy's hands were, Tae just gave the guy a quick concerned glance before walking towards his car. Hearing his infamous "Pink Panther" theme song ringtone, he checked the lit up screen, an unknown caller reaching his iPhone. Accepting the call, he nervously pressed the phone up to his ear before he got into the car and started to drive home.

"Hello?" Tae asked, his lower lip curling into his anxious molars.
"Hey Tae! It's Sen. Jordan gave me your number."
"Oh."
"What do you mean 'Oh'? You don't wanna hear your best friend's voice? Anyway, I wanted to catch up with you today and see what's going on but I went to your office and you weren't there."
"Yeah I'm actually on my way home. You know how I am, I always like working on a bed instead of a desk. It's---"
"It's less restrictive of your work ethic and makes you feel like your personal life is intermingled with your business life and that's what you value in a work environment. Yeah I know."
"Oh."

The hand clutching his phone fell limp in lethargy, his gaze on the road losing their focus. For some reason he can't put a finger on, he didn't feel like talking to Sen. His high school best friend was morphed into a mere obstacle without a single reason to be obstructing anything. Maybe the obstacle was their unintentional and intrusive small talk, the societal need to catch up when there was no catching up to do. Or perhaps it was the recall of how Sen acted when Noeul showed up on his doorstep, the unmistakable jealousy radiating from his long-time-no-see childhood buddy.

"Sorry Sen I'm like really out of it today."
"I can fucking tell. Jordan's getting to you lately?"
"...Listen, I know he's our boss and everything but do you mind not mentioning him every time we talk?"
"I wear my loincloth over my eyes and ejaculate too soon-"
"Excuse me?" Tae almost shouted into his phone's speaker, completely appalled at what Sen said. As if his blurb meant anything to him.

"Oh! Sorry, reading this poetry book. You know how I am with poetry."
"Yeah, and I know how you are when you fucking read books. You always had the tendency to read aloud without knowing." Tae was a little bit shaken up, his ears replaying Sen's little poetry reading and analyzing it far too much.
"Damn straight. I'll put the book away because that was awkward. How's your mom Tae?"

He fell silent at a perfect time. To be caught in the L.A. morning traffic jam was all the more reason to be unresponsive. Tae's eyes unwillingly scanned the interior of his clean car, his ability to keep it smelling brand new and spotless was profound. Clearing his throat uncomfortably he spoke into the phone's speaker, his elbow leaning against the matted black center console.

"Sen. My mom died three years ago."
"Oh...Tae I...I had no idea. What happened?"
"Car accident."
"...Why didn't you tell me about it? You know I was close with your family too."
"..."
"Tae?"
"I never talk about my family to anyone. You know that."

There were two boundaries in a conversation that Tae personally hated to pop. The uninterrupted jabber of memories about "parental figures" that didn't matter to him was one of them. The other was just his parents in general. The topic was something that brought forth this unreasonable loathing from him. Although he wasn't a very hateful person at heart, there were of course a few things he could personally go without and may even sign a petition to ban or boycott. If parents could be boycotted, he would be on that train ride, stop at the last station, walk all the way back to the start, and ride again.

Tae's hatred could be found in the simplest of examples: Hating Comic Sans or Thursdays for no apparent reason. He did hate his parents for so many reasons---the abandonment and vocal feelings of disappointment, the strict house rules, the enforcement and sermons of masculinity, the conversion therapy learned from internet browsers and local priests---but as the years went by and his time of independence grew to become a part of him, he could barely understand where his parents were coming from. At least barely understanding something was a start to new concepts.

"Alright, let's stop talking about sad shit right now Tae and let's just...take a trip down Memory Lane. Man, I've never told you this, but when I was younger I seriously wanted to be you."
"Seriously?...That's...The fuck? Why?" A little shocked and curious, Tae pressed his phone even more into his soft skin, as if that could somehow clear up the confusion and make things sound a lot more understandable.

"I know it's so stupid but you had it all back then. You were a rich kid from the get go, I mean I was too but you had it good. Like, I don't know how to explain it. You were always so humble about every single thing you got. Your mom used to brag about you all the time to my parents. About how you never asked for anything. I always wanted to be like that, that sort of son that his parents would be proud of, but I also wanted to beat you in everything. Wanting to beat you meant asking my parents for a lot of shit. I regret it now but...yeah...you were such a good kid. You were smart, talented, creative, you had opinions about everything. I remember saying to my dad, 'I don't want my dumb name anymore. I want to be Yoon-Tae Choi too.'"

Tae loosened the tight pressure of his grip on the phone, listening to each and every word his friend had to say about their childhood while covertly judging Sen. There was no way in hell he was like that as a young boy, the confusion and transformation he had during his teenage years was enough to make him forget all about the perfect facade that enriched his youthful identity. After the hour drive to the nearest tattoo parlor at 18 years old he got something that would lead to the tragic spiral of his downfall: The letters "A(rt)O(f)M(ovement)" inked in a sort of style that resembled a heart EKG behind his ear. He should have known better to listen to teenage Sen's encouragement about pursuing tattoos. Or better yet, listen to all the encouragement Sen provided but not get a tattoo that was in such a visible and vulnerable spot. The tattoo came around the period where he hated hats and all things that covered his hair, saying that if one more thing got put on his head he would rain hell upon all life on earth. If he would have waited a few months for his "snapbacks are chill 24/7 365" phase he could have easily avoided confrontation from his traditional, old-school, Korean family. Hearing Sen's story about how he wanted a immature name change broke him out of his train of thoughts, a small joyous snicker leaving his lips.

"Sen, either you're mistaking me for some other cookie-cutter rich boy or you're in another dimension. What the fuck? What happened to me? Where did little Yoon-Tae Choi go? People always call me a rich entitled asshole now."
"Not even surprised."
"Hey. Watch your mouth, Sen."
"I'm older."
"Shit." Their ringing laughter echoed throughout Tae's car, the boom of their comfortable and intimate cackles were so similar in rhythm, tone, and timing that it was downright scary. That obstacle Tae perceived Sen to be was now clear from view. The only thing Tae saw Sen as was a long lost best friend that was miraculously found.

"Yo! Remember when we talked for a bit back in college? You told me you were getting a BA in interpreting so you could be an English teacher in Korea. Where the fuck did that go Tae? You've changed." Sen said, the last of his words dramatically spoken as if he was distraught about his best friend's proclivity to change decisions.

"Don't get me wrong, I was on track for my BA right after I graduated high school but like, a few months away from my graduation he met me and hooked me up to Skin Adorn. I liked tattoos over languages anyway."
"By 'he' you mean Jordan, right?"
"Gasp. How dare you speak the Lord's name in vain?"
"God. Don't even get me started on hi-"
"Ha. God. I get it."
"Shut up, loser. As I was saying, don't get me started on his big ass ego. He thinks he's the shit, doesn't he Tae?"
"Tell me about it. Hey give me a sec I just got home."

Talking to Sen always seemed to make time fly no matter how long they've been apart. The only other person who had the capability to make him forget was Noeul. After bonding over the phone, Tae thought that it wasn't such a bad idea to have Sen hang out with Noeul. Although it would be weird having a childhood best friend come in contact with his adulthood best friend, it would be the best remedy for his suffocating issues.

Parking his car in his makeshift gym and garage, Tae grabbed his two packets of Spice and his unnecessary paperwork before unlocking the front door. His home was a blissful sanctuary to him, a tidied den of solitude and salvation, a place where he could always confide in to get away from the struggles of life. There were times where his home also brought him loneliness and a chance to have heart-to-hearts with his thoughts, where his grotto became a dungeon in the blink of an eye. Quick footsteps fluttered him upstairs into his room, a tan and cocoa colored asylum with a large glass window located on the left side of it. After learning about Feng Shui from one of his deranged coworkers, Tae's bedroom, after months of research, followed the method to the best of his ability. His bed was on the wall diagonal to the door, all the way to the left of the room near the window. Two polished oak bedside tables were placed on either side of the bed, each adorned with the same simplistic and modern lamp that was in almost every room in the house. A massive wooden headboard could have been a wall itself; directly behind the bed to provide great strength for his head and to protect from any loud sound he may be having late at night or when he woke up beside someone. A khaki colored circular rug covered the majority of his maple polished floor and was placed in the very center of the room, Tae's claimed statement of it being "easier to clean" had been a blatant lie, but he still hadn't gotten rid of it because it was too expensive for some measly carpet. Overall, Tae's room was immaculate. It was clean, tidy, and especially organized. Always known for being scatterbrained at a young age, Tae always organized everything to stay on track. Even his massive closet had its own system: Long sleeves on the left, short sleeves on the right, tank tops or no-sleeved shirts in the middle, pants in the shelves, shoes aligned near the shelves, socks rolled up and put at the very top of the closet. There was nothing under his bed, everything was stashed in his bedside drawers if it could fit. If it didn't, the item would go downstairs. For a busy schedule and lifestyle, Tae's room was empty and fancy for the most part. If it wasn't for the small white bear sitting patiently on his side of the bed, the room would have been the cultivation of maturity and sophistication.

"Sen! I'm in my room right now you still alive?"
"No I died and went through two lifetimes while you were gone."
"Fuck off Sen." Tae teased, shaking his head in disbelief at his friend's sarcastic nature. Getting himself comfortable on his bed, Tae reached into one of his bedside table's drawers, pulling out a small package of Juicy Jay's Rolling Papers, the watermelon flavored packaging reminding him that he will always be a kid at heart smoking blunts that tasted like Fruit Loops. The paper itself was a faded cherry red with black ovals scattering it, visualizing the meat of a watermelon. Taking one of the Spice packets, he ripped the packaging open, the faint smell of weed and the strong smell of god-knows-what emitting from metallic gray plastic. With hasty hands, he spilled out the contents of the bag onto his bed, the drug looking like a witch's mason jar or a chef's concoction of enticing seasoning. After rolling the drug into the paper, he grabbed his lighter from his back jean pocket, lighting the chemical before slowly sticking it in between his pursed lips with poise and class.

"Remember when you used to get excited when your mom came back home from Korea? We couldn't get you to do anything fun because you thought your mom would come to school and see you misbehaving."
"That was random but yeah I remember that." Tae said, accidentally blowing the thick plume of smoke into his phone's microphone.

"Hey, I fucking heard that Tae. What are you smoking?"
"JWH-018."
"Dude," Sen commented, Tae almost feeling the head shake of disapproval and judgement from the other side of the phone. "You can just say Spice you know. Or like, synthetic cannabinoids, or that fake weed shit. Can't believe you're still using drugs since 16 man. Should've been dead by now or like, on the streets of downtown Portland."
"Actually," Tae paused, his fingers returning the airy nectar into his aroused taste buds. "I got clean when I was 21." After speaking, he blew the rest of the smoke out of his decaying lungs, turning his head to stop the smoke from going towards his phone. Leaning back into the call, he took the time to roll another blunt so he could take one for the road.

"And you're relapsing with Spice? Are you fucking crazy? You do know that fake weed shit isn't weed at all. It's like, meth, or crack cocaine."
"I know Sen, I took Drugs 101 as a fucking hobby. Chillax, I'm in control right now I'm only using it to relieve stress."
"...Have you tried AM-2201?" Sen questioned, completely dismissing Tae's obvious stress patterns after coming back from jail.
"No," Tae commented, "Why, is it good?"
"Fuck no, that shit gave me bad trips. Not good for people with anxiety."
"You got anxiety?"
"Long story." Another chuckle was heard from the other side of the call, a laugh mimicking the sound seconds after.

After retrieving his ashtray from the same bedside drawer, Tae relaxed his body on the wooden headboard, using his index finger to tap on the roll so he could remove the leftover ashes. Not even two taps in, Tae placed the roll back into his mouth, sucking on it like some candy and taking a large inhale. Tae could already feel the effects of the chemical kicking in, all parts of his body turning into this dull numbness that he loved to feel. With synthetic marijuana, he could forget his environment for a little while, forget the stress, forget the trauma, forget Jordan. A sudden plink of his phone broke him out of his sudden trance, checking his phone to see the devil himself in bold Arial letters.

"Hey you What are you doing trying to play hooky? Let's get back to work.
125 N Robertson Blvd, Los Angeles, CA 90048 ❤️ "

Tae's eyes continued to blankly read over the text until the message notification disappeared into oblivion seconds after. Taking two deep hits of his escape, he focused his attention back to another remedy of his.

"Sen you will not believe who just messaged me."
"Let me guess, Jordan caught you?"
"Yep. Gotta hit Chanel real quick and I didn't even fucking do any of my w-" Before he could finish, he heard some knocks coming from downstairs, putting two in two together as his heart unexpectedly leaped out of his chest.
"Hey Sen, I gotta go Noeul's here."
"You're still talking to Noeul?"
"Yeah...why do you ask?"
"No reason. Bye."

Shrugging at the abrupt end of the call, Tae quickly ashed his blunt before walking downstairs and opening the door. As soon as his best friend stepped in, Tae started to feel a bit groggy and lax, looking at his friend with a dazed glare, wondering what was going on and why Noeul was so excited. Scratching at the side of his neck, his glassed eyes scanned at what seemed to be an urn. "The hell?..." After Noeul's heroic backstory of how he got Andrew's remains, Tae's intestines tied into knots, his logic and reasoning telling him to scold Noeul but his drugged out body cooing him to let it slide. In a haze, Tae could only make a twisted face of rejection. "That's fucked up man."

He cautiously walked over to stand next to Noeul, eyeing the urn with a bubbling feeling of discomfort and guilt. Although Sen sparked Tae's ambition to make tattooing become a career, it was Andrew that told him he was doing all the right things. A month into Skin Adorn Tae was making $9,000 a week incorporating black market enterprising with tattoo artistry. He was well off in the company but he was starting to lose all creativity and had begun to produce shit-quality art. The lackluster sketches never made it to skin fortunately, but Tae was on the brink of giving up the business until Andrew walked into the Adorn warehouse. He still remembers the very day when Andrew requested to have something simple yet bold. It was a strange request for Tae even though he was a month into the work. Tae's clients usually came in with an idea in mind unlike Andrew, who came in completely unannounced and with a vague concept plan. Despite the rules Tae accepted Andrew into his chair, a gut-feeling of getting to know the guy surfacing. After a few hours of laughter, deep conversations, and consultation, both Tae and Andrew settled on a lion. Tae first recommended that Andrew get something else, the idea for the piece coming to light after Andrew saw Tae's pectoral lion tattoo. However, Andrew was a stubborn guy at the time and insisted he got a lion, commenting that they could both have matching tattoos in a way. Andrew came in month after month to have Tae tattoo him, scheduled this time, asking for the most random tattoos to be placed on his skin. After a year of being really good friends, Tae was invited into the Pack by Andrew, who wanted to show off his massive connections with a "dope ass" tattoo artist. The rest was history.

Heaving a sigh, Tae could faintly smell the mild scent of chemical leaving his breath. He started at Noeul, "Look man, I've gotta go back to work because my boss caught me skippin'. You don't mind waitin' here for like two hours tops? I promise I won't take long. You can have time with Andrew and I'll pay respects later. Actually, my mom's death anniversary is comin' up so I can celebrate the two of them soon. Even though Andrew isn't Korean, I go all out with jesa so he'd love it. You'd like it too, I make a lot of traditional Korean food for my mom every year since she passed. Anyway, wait for me, aight?"

Unable to listen to Noeul's response, he quickly walked upstairs to grab his blunt, wallet, and car keys before heading back downstairs. "'Ey man, have you seen my lighter? Oh, never mind, I found it..." As soon as his hand touched the doorknob, the superfluous dread started to kick in. If anything, Tae loathed the idea of seeing Jordan again right after he got out of jail. Their first meeting after being away for months was not a fantastic start to his day. Biting his lower lip he looked to Noeul. "Should I just, you know, not go to work? I bet you it's nothin' even important. Plus, we need to catch up. It's been way too long bein' away from each other and I've got work to do at home. I need your approval for me to skip man if you want us to do somethin'."


@Pray4me
 

That’s it? That’s all the response he got? A plain ‘That’s fucked up man’? He waved his arms around the urn dramatically as if pushing for more of a reaction, but quickly stuck out his bottom lip and puffed his cheeks at nothing in return. He expected Tae to say something more, anything about why he went out his way to get Andrew and for what reason. Noeul had his whole story thought out. How he woke up early in the morning to catch the bus that always smelled like piss and how he managed to wrestle away a bike from a thief who just swiped it from some poor soul. How he rode said bike through dangerous streets, avoiding the open street in case of morning gunshots that plagued that terrible neighborhood. How he sneaked his way into Andrew’s house, taking the urn before being confronted by a gang of Andrew’s oversized cousins, fighting them off with a blur of roundhouse kicks before managing to get away to safety. He was even excited to share how he reconnected with his old friends by them saving him from Andrew’s cousins who chased Noeul in their car. The story was begging to be told, but instead Noeul kept it to himself.

A deep sigh blew from his puffed cheeks, his shoulders falling forward as he let his limp arms sway slightly. Tae managed to ruin Noeul’s morning adventure, that high on excitement he was on now gone. A weird smell also ruined it too. Noeul rubbed his tickled nose, feeling a sneeze begin to form deep in his sinuses. Usually Tae’s house always smelled clean and fresh. It always smelled welcoming. But right now, the smell made Noeul want to run. He couldn’t put his finger on what this weird smell was, but it didn’t smell artificial. It smelled burnt, like the dim reminder of a forest fire a day after it was extinguished. The smell was so lasting it started to burn the back of his throat.

“Whatever man,” Noeul said as Tae walked to the urn. He leaned back up, slipping his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie. A sigh blew his hair away from his eyes. “What’s fucked up was that they were goin’ to take Andrew away from here. Probably stuff him in the back of their movin’ truck and leave California. We were more of a family than his own. Like, why should they keep Andrew in that thing when the Pack deserves to have him more? He did so much for all of us, but I failed him...the least I can do is give him a real funeral.”

Andrew’s death was another failure on a long, long list. Noeul felt extremely guilty letting Andrew leave the club when he was the last one to see their friend alive. The thought to run up to Andrew crossed his mind as soon as he saw Andrew exit the club, but instead getting drunk was the main focus. The only thing keeping Noeul from being depressed by the whole death was having no clue that Andrew was going to be murdered that night. It was supposedly a random murder. A wrong place at the wrong time sort of situation. Andrew was just standing there, maybe getting ready for a smoke, and then being bludgeoned to death by some psychopath.

That was the initial scenario until that night Noeul was spotted by Kenny. Those words his weirdo past friend spoke, that Andrew deserved to be murdered, opened up a whole new case. Andrew was doing something outside the Pack that got him killed. The leader of the Pack was getting into trouble, enough to have his name rumored around. If Kenny knew who Andrew was and knew what their leader was doing to prompt a murder, then something really huge was about to happen in the streets.

This also brought up Kenny and what his friend had been doing during the years they parted. From what Angelica mentioned, Kenny has also been up to no good like Andrew. The whole mystery got Noeul’s blood pumping, just itching to dig into all this further to not only satisfy his own curiosity, but to finally let Andrew’s soul rest. Noeul read somewhere of soul’s being unable to move on until all their issues from when they were living were solved. Or maybe he watched it on the many documentaries about the afterlife Noeul spent a good month watching on Youtube.

As Tae eyed the urn, Noeul sat on his spot on the couch. He leaned back, an arm lying on the armrest as the other rested on the top of the cushions, his head tilting to the side. While his main priority was to give Andrew a proper funeral, Noeul also had the hope this would either bring the Pack altogether again or to mark Andrew’s final goodbye as his final goodbye in the Pack. For a whole month, not one of them made contact with Noeul after weeks of him trying to reconnect. Not one message from him was read by the others. It was as if he was put on ignore or simply blocked. Each day Noeul lost more faith into his second family. He always questioned his belonging in the Pack, always thinking that the other members were tolerating him more than anything else. Their complete silence answered his concerns.

“Tttttaaaaeeee!” a loud groan escaped his lips as he let his body go lifeless on the couch. “You’re fuckin’ killin’ me! You have to go to work again? I thought you did already…”

Not only did Tae ruin his story about how he obtained the urn, but now his best friend was asking him again to wait because of work. Tae should know how little patience Noeul had with waiting. The maximum amount of time Noeul could wait for anyone was 30 minutes. Maybe two hours if a good sports game was on. Noeul had a very small attention span, becoming bored remarkably easily when nothing was happening.

Before he could respond with a stupid comment, he pressed his lips tightly together. All he could do was stare at Tae upside down as his friend went up the stairs, his head resting awkwardly on top of the back cushion and hanging off it, breathing gently through relaxed nostrils. The two always spoke about anything that came to their minds, but the one topic that was always avoided were their families. For the years of knowing Tae, all Noeul knew about his best friend’s family history is of Tae growing up in Oregon and that his mom died. He wasn’t sure how Tae’s mother passed, but he never got the nerve to ask. It felt rude and insensitive to ask such a question. And, the risk of Tae asking questions about Noeul’s own family in return wasn’t something Noeul wanted to take.

Right now, all Noeul knew was that he was going to stick around Tae a little bit more for the next couple of weeks. Maybe the anniversary approaching was the reason why Tae was acting kind of strange today. With how dull his reactions were and that smell Noeul still couldn’t figure out, Tae could be coping with it in his own, personal way. Noeul wasn’t going to ask, but instead decided to dedicate more of his time to his best friend. He wasn’t sure if Tae invited him to participate. It seemed more like Tae was mentioning to Noeul about all the traditional foods he makes for it than asking him to join in. Though, it was probably for the best. Noeul wasn’t the best choice to bring when it came to anything highly emotional. The moment strong emotions hit Noeul he instantly shuts down, unsure of what to do or say. The urge to break the emotional moments with comedy was strong, but for a guy with a lack of filter, even Noeul knew when his typical comedic ways were inappropriate. Noeul couldn’t make anyone feel better with words, but he was gifted at comforting and soothing others with his presence.

Bringing his head forward, Noeul stared at his lap as he brought out his phone, his thumbs running over the screen. The corners of his lips began to dip down, thoughts of his family bubbling in his mind. It’s been a little over a month since Noeul got kicked out the house and his number being blocked from the house phone and his parents' phones. Knowing he was kicked out his family and now nearly out of the Pack brought a sense of loneliness and abandonment, two common afflictions that plagued Noeul throughout his life. Behind that cheerful, mischievous smile was an incredibly lonely boy, begging and craving for any attention and acceptance he could get his hands on. Noeul wanted anything to feel involved with someone. The more, the better. A quiet, deep sigh escaped through his nostrils as his thumbs woke up his phone, noticing a new message appearing on his phone. His eyes narrowed at the name, teeth grazing over his lower lip before it curled into his mouth.

“Huh?” Noeul suddenly looked up to see Tae at the front door, his lips turning into a heavy pout. “What am I supposed to do? I’m already gettin’ fuckin’ bored waitin’ ‘n you haven’t even left yet.”

Slipping his phone back into the front pocket of his hoodie, Noeul let his body fall hard onto the couch. A dull expression played on his tired face as he looked over at Tae, his body sinking into the couch with his head above as if trying to not drown in the ocean. Noeul knew as soon as Tae drove off the street, he would already be out the house to find something to do until Tae texted him. There was no way he could wait for Tae bored and alone in the house without something to do.

Noeul’s head popped up, blinking quickly at Tae’s question to him. There was a sort of uneasy tone nearly hidden in Tae’s voice. The way his best friend stood there with a look of discomfort at the plan of needing to go back to work. Tilting his head, Noeul brought his hand up to scratch his chin.

“I mean, you already got caught skippin’ and comin’ home. Might as well not go and get in more trouble,” Noeul nodded at his logic. Once you’re in trouble, that’s really it. It isn’t like you can get into more trouble if you’re already in it. It was a dangerous point to live on, but it was something Noeul followed dearly. He lowered his head on the couch, eyes rolling up to stare at Tae. “Do you really want to leave me like this?”

Burying his face into the couch, he rested like a dead fish on the docks of the local pier.

“Hear this,” his voice was muffled in the cushions. “How ‘bout we go somewhere far from work? Far, far enough that you won’t even think ‘bout it? I know exactly where to. The beach!”

The beach was one of Noeul’s favorite places in all of Los Angeles. Going to the coastline always felt like a vacation to him, a place close enough to travel to, yet far enough from feeling like he was away from home. The cold, salty air was what the two exactly needed to stop them from thinking of their responsibilities and issues that had to be dealt with today. Noeul was also in the mood for some good fish ‘n chips. The good stuff from the fresh fish stand and not those frozen sticks bought at the grocery store meant for preschoolers.

Exciting about this day trip, Noeul revealed his growing smile from the couch cushion and hurried over to Tae with happy steps. He gently plucked Tae’s hand from the door knob, held it in his hands for a few short seconds, before dropping it to pull Tae into a side hug. Noeul took out his phone and held it at their eye level, waiting for the phone to wake up to see the time. His home screen flashed on, displaying a street art of a fluffy cat sleeping with a bird against a newly constructed building on fresh, white paint, created by his childhood friend Anders. Over in the right corner of his phone, a short vibration rocked Noeul’s hand, an envelope icon flashing as the number ‘2’ displayed on top. That number increased to four as a brief summary of the messages scrolled horizontally on the upper border of his phone. I made time to meet up… the next message appeared, We can, right now...

“Look how fuckin’ late it’s goin’ get. We’ll only have a few hours at the beach until the sunlight is gone and the rain comes back. Do your work later tonight or somethin’. You’re quick. You’ll get it done. Let’s get goin’ man!”

Releasing Tae from his grip, Noeul opened the door and stood out front. His cheery smile shined against the bold, morning sunlight, desperate to stay glowing as long as it could before the approaching gray clouds decided to take the scene. In one quick motion, Noeul slipped his phone into the front of his hoodie pocket and ended up at the passenger side of Tae’s car. All Noeul wanted to do was spend some time with Tae even if it risked Tae getting into some trouble at work. He was sure nothing too serious would happen to his best friend. Tae was a hard worker just like him, taking work maybe more seriously than Noeul did. Their motivations were completely different with Noeul going to work for pure survival. With no skills, no higher education, fast food was one of two options for him to work in. It was remedial work, requiring no brains to work efficiently. All anyone needed to do was have listening skills to take orders and push big, alerting buttons. There was no joy, no passion, no satisfaction. Getting paid was the only reward worth achieving, but even that was skimpy. $9 an hour full time was hard to live off of, forcing Noeul to start looking for a second full time job just to make ends meet. Noeul disliked Skin Adorn, but was envious of the pay Tae was gaining. His best friend’s house, his things, his lifestyle was something Noeul daydreamed about when at work. He dreamed of working off-grid, outside the norms and on a more secretive path. There, he didn’t need to have a resume full of the highest qualifications. Noeul didn’t need to try and play up his years of working in fast food to make it more of a success. He didn’t have to lie and say he ‘was the face of service for a Fortune 500 company, specializing in human interaction and needs’ when in reality he was a simple drive-thru worker. If Noeul could just land a job beneath the surface of society and prove himself, he could be raking tons of money and finally live a comfortable life.

“Come on! We’re not goin’ in the water! We’re just goin’ to hangout at the pier and shit like that!” Noeul called out, pulling and clicking the handle of the door. “If you don’t come the fuck on, I’m makin’ you take the bus!”


@Jihae