The following day was Sunday. Ju-woon did not do anything on that day at all. It was a rather boring day for him—he simply sat in bed and scrolled through social media channels without purpose. He was not in the mood for anything else. The stillness in his apartment was annoying however, it was nothing new to him. He had no idea why he even bothered with his phone but it was a way to kill time. His thumb swiped through posts after posts, pictures of people enjoying themselves, drinking, and living their own lives. He thought of leaving the apartment, taking a coffee or visiting the park, but the idea soon passed away.
Min-ho, on the other side of the universe, really attended a very different Sunday from that of Ju-woon. While Ju-woon was at home, the other one was out at a party. The same old drinking and reckless living, eventually getting drunk. Min-ho has no patience for stillness. He has no time for quiet moments like Ju-woon.
The night seemed to stretch on indefinitely; Min-ho found himself in yet another loud, chaotic party. The crowd swayed and bounced as the music broke the silence in the air from their mingling sweat and the stench of cheap alcohol. Parties are always the same-no matter who you go with or where it is-you could unburden and forget the tension and the angry build-up inside. Just be here.
"Ningyi, I'm not that drunk... I can still drink more."
Min-ho's words were long-dragged and slurred as he still tried to convince either his friend or perhaps himself that he is definitely not as far gone as he felt visualizing the glass in his hands and about to raise it to his lips, making the liquid slosh around in the cup while rolling over him with an immense wave of dizziness. He hardly took in the playful retort.
"Yeah, right, keep those comments coming," was the sharp reply from Ningyi, followed by a chuckle.
Min-ho waved her off, really disinterested already as he scanned the crowd for entertainment-something, anything. Everything was foggy, blurred by alcohol; however, it didn't stop searching for even more fun. It wasn't very long before some overheard his bragging and decided to spice up the excitement.
"Pfft, your alcohol tolerance must be so low! What a loser, look at you."
Min-ho's eyes narrowed as he turned to see who it was. He didn't even recognize the guy standing there, his face smug and full of judgment. Min-ho's annoyance flared immediately. He didn't know who this guy was or why he was suddenly being dragged into this, but that didn't matter. What mattered was that some stranger thought he could mock him.
At first, Min-ho just stared at him. He didn't know if the guy was also just drunk and messing with him, but it didn't sit right.
"C'mon, look at yourself. So weak. You're just standing there listening to me. Do something about it, I dare you."
The words were laced with a mocking tone, and that was it. Something in Min-ho snapped, a raw surge of anger flooding his chest. His fist shot out before his brain could even process what he was doing. The punch landed hard, the impact of it sharp and satisfying. The guy staggered back, looking utterly surprised, as if he hadn't expected it. Min-ho didn't care. The guy deserved it.
Min-ho stared at him, fists clenched, ready for whatever came next. He hadn't thought about stopping. He was already too far gone.
"You think I'm weak?" Min-ho's voice was low, dangerous, slurred from the alcohol, but it carried a threat. "Is that all you've got?"
The guy recovered quickly, clearly angry now. Min-ho's words pushed him over the edge. The stranger lunged at Min-ho, trying to land a punch of his own, but Min-ho dodged it with ease, his body more agile than it had any right to be in his current state. He smirked.
"Come on, if I'm so weak, then show me what you've got. Go ahead. I've got all day."
The guy hesitated for a moment, unsure, but then his anger got the better of him. He swung again, this time landing a hit on Min-ho's nose. It stung like a bitch, and Min-ho could feel the blood starting to trickle down. His mind went blank for a moment, his body frozen, before he wiped the blood off his hand, staring at it as if it were something foreign.
The pain didn't register fully—not yet—but the anger did. His vision cleared. Min-ho's smirk turned into a deep frown as he wiped his nose with the back of his hand, looking at the blood dripping down
He felt a rush of heat. The adrenaline surged. Without thinking, he raised his hand and slammed it back into the guy's face with a punch that hit so hard the guy crumpled to the floor. There was a moment of stillness, a pause in the chaos as the room seemed to collectively hold its breath.
The guy tried to stand up, but Min-ho wasn't done yet. He stepped forward, placing his foot on the guy's chest with a little more force than necessary. He could feel the weight of it, the power in the way the guy flinched beneath him.
"Don't fucking punch me again," Min-ho hissed, his voice cold and harsh. "My face is delicate. You made my nose bleed. See this?"
He pointed to his nose, the blood now stopped but the memory of it fresh. The guy's eyes widened in fear, as if he realized the severity of the situation. He opened his mouth, probably about to say something, but Min-ho didn't give him the chance. Without thinking, he grabbed a nearby glass bottle from the table and hurled it at the guy with everything he had.
The bottle shattered when it hit, glass spraying everywhere. A few pieces caught the guy's skin, slicing him open in various places. The guy gasped in pain, but Min-ho wasn't finished yet.
"Speak up," Min-ho said, his voice dangerously calm despite the chaos. "What were you about to say?"
The guy didn't answer. He couldn't. He was too stunned, too hurt, to speak.
Min-ho's gaze swept over the room, all the eyes on him, the crowd watching the aftermath of the violence with morbid curiosity. He didn't care. He wasn't here for the crowd. He wasn't here for anything. He was here for himself. He turned on his heel, shoving through the group of onlookers as he made his way out of the party.
The night air hit him like a wave as he stepped into the alley behind the college. The party had spilled out here, but it was too dark for anyone to really notice. The place was secluded, no one around to stop him or question him. He didn't know when or how he'd gotten here, but he was there, stumbling forward as if on autopilot.
Min-ho woke up with a pounding headache the next morning. The room around him was blurry, and he could feel the weight of the hangover settling in. He groaned, reaching for his phone, eyes barely open. His hand brushed against the screen, and the sudden flood of messages made him wince.
He didn't bother reading most of them, but the one email caught his attention. His brain was still foggy, but he read through it as best as he could.
"Min-ho, you have been suspended for a week for hospitalizing a student."
Min-ho's eyes snapped open in disbelief. Hospitalized? What the hell? He had no memory of it being that serious. He'd barely even been able to focus on the fight.
He raised an eyebrow and smirked, ignoring the pounding headache. Hospitalized? Was it really that bad? He didn't think so. But whatever.
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