Dbsk

He drove so fast that he passed the end of the world in a spinning flash of colorful lights. It snatched the cigarette out of his hand, sucking it into a vortex of wind, and still, he kept driving.

Jonghyun was the type of personality who didn't care much whether he lived or died. He didn't care how long he lived, or how well, and for that matter, he didn't care too much about anyone elseeither.

He dropped out of high school two months before graduation, and it was the best thing he had ever done. His first cigarette had been three days later, offered by a traveling university student who barely spoke any Korean, but clearly found him cute. She had given him the rest of the pack to remember her by. The brand was American. Camel Lights, to be precise. He'd since had to find aKorean one that tasted the same.

Smoke plumed out of his lips and nose as he slowly pressed the gas, letting his speed gradually rise. Jonghyun wondered when he'd get caught by the police, or when he'd get into an accident. Sometimes he'd imagine himself in a coma, other times with a head injury rendering him amnesiac. Maybe life would be more interesting then.

Jonghyun didn't wile away with selfpity. He wasn't an apathetic prat, either. He was just twenty without any restraints, and honestly, he was too smart for his own good.

It was his brain that drove him crazy. School had only been a challenge for him in the way that it was so boring, repetitive, and completely useless that sleeping or scribbling random inspirations in the margins of his notes had gotten more done for him. Heused to be a role model student with perfect grades. He still could have been, but that was a waste of his time.

Jonghyun never told anybody he was a writer. He spent most of his (now quite endless) free hours in random places with wifi, writing something, anything, and everything that came to mind. He had written novel-length stories, shorts, particularly lyrics. It was the only thing that kepthis brain stable, he believed, writing.

He hit the freeway at about ninety, weaving around other cars without much caution. A few honked, which scared other drivers, but nothing happened. Jonghyun was beginning to believe some fucked up guardian angel was protecting him. He was sort of right.

And he was going to Seoul.

It was supposed to take six hours. He got there in three and a half.His eighth cigarette from the drive was between his lips, curling smoke quickly digested by the excess of lights and pollution that was common in big cities. He took a heavy, deep breath and thought, Ah, fresh air.

"I'm here." he texted to his friend, soon to be roommate. "Best club nearby?"
A few minutes later, "Second best—Glass Bead, two blocks down from where you're standing. Look up."Jonghyun looked up. It was about thirteen stories high, so he couldn't make out his face, but the shouting confirmed that it could be no one other than Taemin. "If you don't wait for me, I will never tell you the first!"
Jonghyun smirked up at him. "You know me too well!"

The club was better than any in his shithole of a city. Jonghyun got wasted, couldn't find the heart to be angry at whoeverpick-pocketed him—all he had on him was a parking stub and 4,000 won—he did, however, throw a punch or two when some git brushed a hand over his ass, then tried to grab the near-empty Camel Lights pack in his left pocket. Taemin managed to push a hand in his face, effectively disorienting the blonde long enough to make sure the aggression did turn into a brawl.

"Fuckers." Jonghyun mumbled intohis drink. "By the way, are you even legal?"
"Jonghyun, you've known me for years." said Taemin. "I'm eighteen. No. So what?"
The blonde smiled around his glass. "Just never smoke, okay?"
"Okay?" the brunette raised his eyebrows at Jonghyun, who pulled out the slightly crumpled pack of Camel Lights.
"Unless you find yourself a pack of these."
"What's so special about them?"
"Well,"...