It was a normal Monday night,
The faint sound of rain dripped down the window, occasionally accompanied by the thud of leaves or twigs falling outside. Inside, Ju-woon sat quietly in his room, painting. To be honest, nothing interesting was happening—just another late night spent finishing a project for his art class.
With each stroke of his paintbrush, the image on the canvas became more defined. This time, he was painting a forest, a humid one that felt endless. The more he painted, the more it felt like he was part of it, like he was trapped within the trees, searching for an escape that didn't exist. Maybe it was just fate. The more he thought about it, the more he lost track of where he was, his mind drifting further away. Time blurred. Reality slipped. This happened to him a lot. Art was the only way he could express his emotions—anger, sadness, positive emotions. Every piece he created reflected something he felt.
Except for one emotion.
Love.
He thought about it for a moment, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't understand it. It was an unfamiliar concept to him, an emotion he had never truly felt.
Suddenly, everything went silent.
Just him and his canvas—
Never mind. His headphones had died. No wonder it was so quiet.
"Shit, what time is it…?"
Mid-sentence, he glanced at the clock. It wasn't 2 a.m. like he thought. It was already past 4.
A heavy sigh escaped him as he realized he had early classes in the morning. College was brutal—the workload was wild. It was like. he was finally finishing one project but another one was already due. He thought that visual art's would be easy but, he was wrong.
Not wanting to waste more time, Ju-woon decided to clean up and head to bed. The silence in his apartment made it that even the simple act of picking up his paint palette sounded like he was moving furniture. At least he lived alone—if he had a roommate, that poor person wouldn't be able to sleep either.
As he moved his canvas aside, he realized he had forgotten to eat. Again.
Damn it. Life was so much easier when he lived with his parents. Back then, all he had to worry about was keeping his grades up.
After tidying up, he gathered his clothes to throw them in the washing machine. A formal white shirt from some party. Or was it a high school reunion?
He missed those days.
No responsibilities. Just living.
With a sigh, he pressed the start button on the washer and walked toward his bedroom. His apartment was small enough that it only took a few steps to get there, and yet, rent was ridiculous. Not that he worried about it—his parents covered the cost. He came from a wealthy family, but he understood the value of money. He knew he was fortunate
Lying in bed, he stared at the ceiling. His life felt boring.. he had expected college to be a once-in-a-lifetime experience, but it wasn't. It wasn't like he didnt have friends—he was actually pretty popular around campus. So what was it? Was it the absence of romance in his life?
Actually, what was he even talking about? He'd never had that.
It wasn't like he couldn't get a partner—he just never wanted one. Love had never appealed to him. It wasn't that he didn't believe in it, and it wasn't like he'd been heartbroken before. He just… hadn't found the right person.
He was so lost in thought that he didn't even realize when he drifted off to sleep.
Meanwhile, across campus, another college student—Min-ho—was very much awake.
Sleeping? At 5 a.m.? Absolutely not.
He was out partying. Again.
This time, it was a small gathering—just some friends reuniting, . Min-ho was already drunk, though, as usual, he refused to admit it.
"Hey… uh… forgot your name… can you pour me another drink?" he could surprisingly still speak.
The person he was talking to was Nin-gyi, his best friend of ten years.
"Goddamn it, Min-ho. How much are you planning to drink tonight?" Her voice was hoarse, probably from screaming over the music.
"Nin-gyi, let the kid drink. He's twenty—he knows how to handle alcohol," some random guy started talking in. Or was he random? Min-ho couldn't tell. Maybe he was too drunk to recognize him.
"Well, I'm not dragging his sorry ass home again," Nin-gyi muttered, irritation creeping into her voice.
"Hmmm… yeah, yeah—"
The rest of his sentence was drowned out as someone turned up the music. A hip-hop song blasted through the speakers. Min-ho could barely hear it, but he didn't care.
Then, suddenly, the song changed to something else—something he recognized.
Immediately, he shot up and started 'dancing' Realistically, he was just wobbling, barely standing as he yelled out,
"LET'S GO, PEOPLE! LET'S PARTY TILL WE DIE!"
In his drunken state, it almost sounded like he meant it.
But then—
His vision blurred.
Then darkened.
Until everything went black.
When Min-ho opened his eyes, he was in his bed.
Huh?
Guess someone had dragged him home.
His head throbbed as he sat up, a wave of nausea hitting him instantly. God, what an awful migraine. How much had he even drunk last night? He barely remembered anything—just like some bits..
At some point, a girl had asked him out.
At another, some guy had punched him.
The rest? A blur.
Ignoring the migraine, he attempted to stand, only to wobble and decide against it. Instead, he slumped back down, his gaze landing on a small pink sticky note on his nightstand.
Grabbing it, he squinted at the handwriting.
Min-ho, this is Hana from your first class. I hope you remember me. You passed out yesterday, and no one would take you home, so I brought you back.
Min-ho stared at the note.
then scoffed
Which stupid idiot let some random girl bring him home?
How the hell did she even know his address?
Freak.
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-authors note
hey im here from quotev, do people here usually add author notes?