#And that whoever is living with Jinyoung has trouble sleeping

[kingkangyohan]

On my way home, this is like the 5th loop.

[capaimagines]

im jaebeom - underworld

Pairing: mafia leader!Im Jaebeom x Reader | Genre: angst & mafia | Warnings: alludes to sexual assault, fighting, weapons, drugs, blood, swearing | WC: 2.6k

Request: Hi, I'm not too sure if you write them or not but if you do, may I please request a mafia/gang fic? Or if you don't want to do gang maybe just like JB got7 sells drugs or something?? Anyways I'll let you decide but maybe something goes wrong during the mission and they are led to the wrong place and in the mean time they take JB fiance and sexually assault her? Of course you don't have to write in detail. Maybe Mark and Jinyoung come in mid way and lose their shit and you are just limp and weak that you start screaming whenever they touch you but they need to get you to safety. Lots and lots of angst please. I understand if you can't. Thank you!!!

part two

You would consider yourself as an adventurous soul. Ever since you were little you were never one to back down from a fight. You spoke your mind no matter what anyone else said which, when you were younger, got you into a shit load of trouble. So, when you had met Jaebeom at your dingy workplace, which was some dirty ass, barely-lit bar, no one should have been surprised that you had a go at him for being a prick.

He had been rude all night but being a mafia leader to one of the biggest groups in the nation at the moment could stress you out a little. He had snapped at you because the food they had ordered hadn’t been cooked right or something. You had rolled your eyes, not caring if you got fired and snapped right back at him.  

“Feisty,” He commented with a smirk.

Now, had you known at the time who he was and what he did you probably would have dialed it back just a little bit. Then you wouldn’t be where you were now, years later. Engaged to Jaebeom and living a lavish lifestyle. You weren’t that surprised when you found out he was in the mafia and he really hadn’t done much to hide it. It had only enticed you even more.

Let alone the six others that were always by his side always made for good entertainment.  They had all become family to you and like all cliché romances, you had fallen in love with Jaebeom and it only took a year of dating before he proposed to you. You excited him and while your feisty attitude sometimes got on his nerves or came dangerously close to putting you in jeopardy, he loved that you weren’t afraid of him. That you embraced this lifestyle like it had been the only thing you had ever known.

Now, he never wanted to actually put you out on missions but you weren’t having it. You refused to freeload off them and wanted to help wherever you could. Being a housewife, cooking and cleaning had never been something you wanted to do. So, Mark has thankfully shown you how to fight properly. Jackson and Jinyoung had frequently brought you to the shooting range which was located below the mansion. You had a sharp eye and caught on quick and while you were adventurous, you hoped you’d never have to shoot anyone.

Youngjae had shown you a little of hacking skills and all the equipment they used. How to fix things if they broke or were damaged during a mission quickly. Yugyeom and BamBam have taught you better acting skills. You could play the role of whoever they needed you too, lure in whoever was needed without issue. Plus, BamBam loved shopping and so did you so, lots of new clothes and shopping trips. Especially when a new mission came up.

Jaebeom had done his best to keep you quiet. He didn’t need enemies knowing about you because he knew they’d try to harm you to get to him. While he knew you could hold your own, he loved you and he was protective. He never wanted anything to happen to you. Until what was supposed to be just a meeting to discuss terms on some product coming in that went bad.

Then you went missing.

⋘ ──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──── ⋙

You spat blood out of your mouth, wanting to vomit from the iron taste. Just a mere few hours ago you were sitting next to Jaebeom, proudly, while he negotiated terms for some drugs that were smuggled in. You had insisted on going as you had planned on helping Jaebeom run and build this empire up. You never wanted him to change everything just for you. Sure, the danger was high but you didn’t care, you loved him and if this was what he wanted to do, you would stand by him.

You aren’t really sure what happened though. You remembered a loud bang, blinding white lights and then someone hitting the back of your head. You groaned at the memory; that’s probably why the back of your head hurt. You knew something was off when you had first arrived at the meeting. The other goons around the leader were too fidgety, eyes constantly shooting around the room. Your mistake was brushing it off, thinking that Jaebeom would keep you safe. Yet, here you sat, tied up with your throbbing head and a stinging cheek.  

“We can’t kill her yet,” You heard someone say.  

“Well, isn’t that a damn relief,” You scoffed as you rolled your eyes. Whoever was standing next to you kicked you harshly, to which you groaned and bit down your lip to keep quiet. Your mouth always did get you in trouble.

“Once he gets here, you’re all dead anyways. He wouldn’t lose to someone as pathetic as you,” you growled to which you spat at him. You remembered him from the meeting earlier. Here we are again, your mouth getting you into trouble as he punched you across the face. You spat out some more blood, surprised your jaw wasn’t broken yet. You were also surprised at how calm you were. That just showed how much you trusted your fiancé to come to your rescue. He’d never let anything bad happen to you, or so you thought.

Except when the leader got tired of your snarky comments and changed tactics. Instead of physical violence, he gave permission to his goons to do whatever they wanted to you. With you being tied up, you couldn’t fight back. You tried, of course, but without the use of your limbs it didn’t do much. You screamed, you bit them, you tried kicking and headbutting. Though it always ended with them hitting you and doing what they wanted anyways.

You don’t know how long you had been in that room, in that place, but it felt like years. They never opened the blinds so you didn’t see the sun rise or fall. The leader came back a few times, ensuring that JB was well aware where you were and what he wanted in order to send you back. You knew he wouldn’t send you back. JB would come to save you and he’d kill you both.

You felt like an empty shell now. What you had been saving for your wedding night had been taken away without your will. You hated how timid you had become in just a few days. Every noise, every footstep, every breath made you flinch. You tried to be strong, but you were breaking little by little. When you heard the door open and smelled the alcohol you squeezed your eyes shut, willing the vomit to stay down. You knew what was coming, yet you still hadn’t prepared yourself for further damage. 

Again, you tried to fight. You swung your tied legs around wildly, tried biting and headbutting. All it took was one swift kick to your stomach to stop you. Everything hurt and you heard the unbuckling of a belt. You gulped, willing yourself to stay strong. Then you heard a gunshot.  Then another. One after another followed by the sound of screams. Then the door slammed open to where you were.

You squeezed your eyes shut. This was it. Either JB was here to take you home or they were really going to kill you. 

“What the actual fuck?!” You knew that voice. That was Mark.  

“M-Mark,” You said weakly, opening one of your eyes and sure enough there stood Mark and Jinyoung, eyes fuming with rage.  

“You’ve fucked up royally,” Jinyoung said, deadly serious. Before you knew it, the guns were dropped and the two boys had started beating the life out of the two males in the room with you.

You knew they were dead, they were in the room with two of the best fighters you knew of. You also heard a neck crack and another gurgle. Mark and Jinyoung were breathing heavily, blood littering their clothes and their knuckles as well as some splatters on their faces.  

“Y/N,” Mark said, turning to you and reaching to pull your shirt up over your shoulders and push your skirt down before he could untie you. You flinched at the sudden touch, trying to scoot back and immediately felt guilty at the hurt look in his eyes.

It hardened quicker, Mark’s specialty. Not showing his emotions, especially on missions, “I’m just going to untie you, okay?” He said quietly and you nodded. Jinyoung was still fuming but kneeled down to try and help you sit up. He touched your shoulder to help pull you up but you jerked away. 

“J-just d-don’t touch me right now,” You stuttered, “Please,” Your voice was low.

The two boys looked at each other, worried. The once feisty girl that had no problem running into the middle of a gun fight, who was usually the first to throw a punch, who seemed to have no fear of anything except spiders, was afraid of them. Of the people she should trust most, she was afraid of them. Never had they seen her look this weak, this broken. They both exchanged another glance while you pushed yourself up on shaky legs and fixed your clothing.

You walked out, looking for your fiancé. You weren’t okay. Not in the slightest and honestly?  You really didn’t want anyone touching you right now, but you needed to see him, just to know that he was there and that you still had something to fight for. Mark and Jinyoung followed close behind, but made sure they didn’t touch you. You saw JB, in the middle of killing the few remaining men and nodded your head in relief, walking outside to the car where you knew Youngjae was waiting.

JB saw you walk out and went to run after you but Jinyoung stepped in front of him, pushing on his chest and shaking his head, “D-don’t, hyung,” He said quietly and JB raised a brow.  

“Is she okay? Is she hurt?” He had been worried sick for days, not sleeping or eating until he found you. Mark cleared his throat, shaking his head and not meeting JB’s eyes.

“No. No, she’s not.”

⋘ ──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──── ⋙

You were different. Everyone noticed, but JB really noticed. The once confident, feisty woman he had met at the bar all those years ago that wasn’t afraid to run her mouth. The girl that looked down the barrel of his gun all those years ago with a smirk and a laugh wasn’t there anymore.

You were jumpy, timid, hypervigilant. Jaebeom noticed how whenever you went out, even just around the mansion that you had come to call home, you were always on alert. Always checking over your shoulder. Jumping and tensing at every little noise. How the affection you used to show the boys was near non-existent at this point.

The affection you showed him was barely there. He was lucky if you let him hold your hand every now and then or kiss your temple. Everyone had stopped trying to initiate skinship with you. The one time, a few days after they had brought you home and you had managed to get yourself out of bed, Jackson had come up behind you. 

He was excited to see you out of bed and moving around the kitchen. Excited to see that you had showered and were looking more like your normal self. Mark and Jinyoung hadn’t told the others outside of JB what they had walked into that night. At least not at that point. So, Jackson, without knowing, wrapped his arms around your waist and nuzzled himself into your shoulder.

You panicked, your elbow came back to his ribs and you flipped him on his back on the tiled ground. While his breath was knocked out of him he was more in shock than anything else.  Mark had been in the kitchen at that time too and he wasn’t as shocked, but more surprised. It was enough to tell him that it wasn’t the only time that had happened when they walked in on it.

They all sat down and had a meeting. Jinyoung and Mark explained what had happened when they did walk into the room that night. What was happening. How terrified, scared and vulnerable you looked. How, even though you could barely walk yourself, you would not let them touch you, let them help you.

You hadn’t spoken to anyone about what had happened while you were in captivity. You didn’t want to or need to. You didn’t want them to pity you and you didn’t want them to view you as a weak little girl that couldn’t defend herself. So, you did what you had to do and you bottled it up.  Tried to go on as if things were normal, as if you weren’t disgusted with yourself, but the boys knew you better than you knew yourself, they weren’t dumb.

They could see right through you.  JB could see right through you. He didn’t get down on one knee and ask you to marry him if he wouldn’t be able to know when you weren’t okay. While he wanted nothing more than for you to just talk to him, to let him in and let him help, he knew you didn’t want his pity.

He stood in the doorway of your shared bedroom, watching you. He’d been here for at least fifteen minutes just watching you and if you noticed, you hadn’t said anything. He leaned against the door frame, eyes trailing over you. On the outside, you looked okay, but he knew inside, you were in turmoil. He wanted nothing more than to take that turmoil away for you. To bear it all himself.

“What is it, Jaebeom?” You sighed, turning to face him.  

He straightened up, brown orbs meetings yours, but you instantly looked away. You’ve never looked away from him, “I want you to talk to me about that night,  about those days locked up there.”  

You groaned, sitting on the edge of the bed and burying your face in your hands. He had asked you this every night since you had gotten back, “Nothing, Jaebeom. Nothing at all.” You said, no trace of emotion in your voice.

He sat down next to you and you tensed. He felt his heart break; you were afraid. Afraid of him.

“Are you afraid of me?” He murmured, not making eye contact. You, however, looked at him with wide eyes. Did he really think you were afraid of him? Were you? You shook your head, you knew he would never hurt you. Never do anything to purposely put you in danger. You did that enough on your own.

“I could never be afraid of you, Jae.” You mumbled back in response as you reached for his hand but hesitating along the way. He grabbed yours, heart breaking more as you tensed but then he felt a little glimmer of hope as you slowly relaxed and weakly squeezed his hand a little tighter.  

“I just don’t want to talk about it Jae. I don’t want to think about it. I don’t want- I don’t want you to see me as weak and vulnerable,” You sucked in your bottom lip, feeling the familiar burn of tears in your eyes.

“I would never think that about you. You’re the strongest woman I know, Y/N. I love you and nothing is going to change that. Ever,” You squeezed his hand a little tighter, eyes trained on the floor.  

“I love you too, Jae. More than you can imagine,” You took a breath, your glossy eyes turning to meet his, “But I don’t know if I will ever be the same again.”

[frostythefelix]

Haunted: Chapter 4

“I’m so excited for tonight!” The girl in front of you squealed. “I bet BamBam will be there.” Her friend giggled.

“Everyone will be there!” She replied, sounding excited. She then turned around, quirking an eyebrow up, “Well, mostly everyone.” Her tone was demeaning, and you knew it was meant to hurt your feelings. And it did. It had been the second party that the entire school was invited to, excluding you. A boy in your class said that inviting you would be inviting your “bad juju” too, and of course they couldn’t have that.

Halloween was now right around the corner. The closer it got, the more you were mocked. You hated it, but somehow after speaking with Chan you weren’t mad at them anymore. You felt bad for the kids who bullied you, and you didn’t hold any grudges against your parents anymore. Only your thirst for answers remained.

Although, it still stung to be the sole uninvited person on campus. It wounded your pride, but nothing hurt more than your former friends watching you in disgust from their lockers. That marked another day where you laid in your bed and cried. You made to grab your teddy bear only to find out it wasn’t in its usual place. You checked under the bed and all around the room, but to no avail. You grew agitated, wanting nothing more than to curl up with your teddy and cry yourself to sleep. You were muttering to yourself, something about thinking you were friends when you heard a soft bump in the hallway. You stood in the doorway, peering around the edge. You smiled, mumbling a thanks at the sight of your teddy bear laying on its side in the middle of the hallway.

Chan wanted to comfort you again. He wanted to wipe away your tears and tell you everything would be alright, but he knew he couldn’t. He didn’t know if he was even able to help, or why you were crying in the first place. All he knew was that you wanted your bear, so he secretly retrieved it from Jisung’s stolen stash and brought it to you unnoticed. He watched you retreat back into your room and followed you. He knocked on your desk to let you know he was there before opening a drawer and producing your notebook and a pen.

“You ok?” He wrote. He was taking a huge risk. Writing to you should’ve taken an abundance of energy and left him fatigued, but he felt fine. You nodded, chuckling a bit. You sat with your legs crossed on your bed with your bear held tight to your chest.

“I have questions.” You spoke, wiping your face with the sleeves of your hoodie. You could have sworn at that moment you saw his shadow, but shook your head. “You don’t have to speak. Just knock once for yes and twice for no.” You hoped you weren’t crossing any boundaries, but when a soft knock answered, relief flooded your body.

“Are there more than just you and Jeongin here?” You asked, a soft knock coming soon after. “How many of you are there?” You winced at your own question, afraid he wouldn’t answer. But then came another knock, and another after that, and another. You counted the knocks. Nine. Your heart stopped. “Wow,” you breathed, stunned. “So this whole time there has been nine of you, and I thought it was just Jeongin.” And then your heart stopped again, only embarrassment was the culprit this time.

“That means all nine of you watched me try to speak to Jeongin, right?” A blush crept up your cheeks as you hid behind your bear. Chan laughed, a sound you heard so clearly it was as if he were alive right next to you. You suddenly felt another presence, but this one didn’t seem angry. Hyunjin stood at the door, watching the interaction between you and his older friend. He was quiet, kind of like the Switzerland of their group. He liked to observe, so he knew exactly why you cried at night. He often cried with you, but of course you didn’t know that. Chan noticed his friend and froze. Hyunjin smiled, bouncing off the door frame and entering the room.

“I won’t tell them.” He said, resting his hand on the older boy’s shoulder. “I just wanted to see this for myself.”

“Is someone else here?” You asked, startling the two boys.

“How does she know?” Hyunjin asked. Chan shrugged in response. “Can I try?” He asked. Chan nodded.

“Y/N?” he whispered. Your head shot up at the sound of your name. You recognized the voice from your dreams. It had spoken to you several times, telling you everything would be okay soon. You sat up straighter.

“Hi,” you smiled, “Who are you?” Your heart was pounding with excitement. Chan got up and moved your laptop, signaling for you to open it again.

“What are you doing?” Hyunjin asked him, alarmed. But when you reached for your laptop he understood.

“Tell me who you are.” You mumbled, opening up chrome and waiting. Chan pushing Hyunjin forward, smilled encouragingly. The younger boy typed his name into the search engine and pressed the small magnifying glass. Ten pages of articles popped up, all relating to the Stray Kid Murders. You clicked on the first one: More Bodies Have Been Identified.

“Hwang Hyunjin, 18 at the time of his kidnapping, was found dead in the backyard of the Stray Kids house along with several other young men that have yet to be identified.” You read aloud. The air became increasingly colder as you read on. “The son of the CEO of Hwang Corp. was taken after supposedly running away from home. Witnesses say they saw him in the back of a brown Station Wagon just north of Busan.” Hmmm, you thought, sounds familiar. The boys watched you somberly as you dove more into your research. Hyunjin had been killed likely right after he was abducted, blunt force trauma to the head. You winced, not wanting to read any more about the tragedy that took place in your basement for the rest of the week.

“I’m sorry this happened to you guys.” You said, your head turned to the floor. A hand was placed on your shoulder, and you jumped. The hand didn’t move though, and you lifted your own to set it on top. You felt cold, but nothing else. It was strange that they could touch you, but you couldn’t touch them.

“It was a long time ago.” Chan said, his voice carrying throughout the room. You nodded, understanding. The moment was interrupted by another negative feeling. This was was different from the one from the other day, and you could tell it wasn’t the same boy. Jisung was so angry there was practically steam coming out of his ears. He grabbed the boys by their ears and pulled them down into the basement, calling the other boys on the way. It didn’t take long for all of them to arrive in their lair.

“Guess what I found them doing.” The orange haired boy’s eyes were wide, his lips curled back. “Talking to Y/N. That’s where.” He answered himself before anyone could. Seungmin’s eyebrows shot up. Hyunjin was talking to her? He was surprised. Hyunjin was the one who never really participated in the pranks; he mostly kept to himself. It had a lot to do with his time with Park Jinyoung, but he wouldn’t tell anyone that.

“Guys, seriously?” Woojin asked, seemingly deflated. Jeongin slowly rose his hand, shyly, not knowing if his question would get him in trouble or not.

“What is it, Jeongin?” Jisung asked, his voice harsh. But Jeongin directed his question to Chan, the non-official leader of their group.

“Can I-” He paused, taking a deep breath. He could tell Jisung would blow his top at any second, so he had to ask quickly. “Can I speak to her?” Chan smiled, opening his mouth to respond when Minho did.

“Are you crazy?” he roared. “You do realize you could die,” he paused, rethinking his words, “Again.” Seungmin blinked at the boys, keeping his comments to himself. He couldn’t understand how Chan and Hyunjin were okay, but they were. They weren’t deteriorating, evaporating into thin air never to be seen again. They were perfectly fine, no scratches.

“Actually-” Changbin began, only to be cut off by Jisung. Changbin and Seungmin shared a look. It seemed as if they were thinking the same thing.

“I stayed here to terrorize the living with my best friends, not to watch them die for a second time.” Jisung eyed Chan, tears brimming his eyes. Chan sighed, remembering the look on Jisung’s face when Park Jinyoung took him into the room. They both knew what was going to happen, and Jisung couldn’t bare to watch another friend be brutally murdered. He’d been killed not too long after Chan for rebelling. Chan sighed.

“For some reason we can talk to her.” He stated, making it a point to have eye contact with each boy as his eyes scraped the room. “We can move things in her presence. She can hear us, and I think she sees us sometimes too.” The air in the room became stiff, each boy holding their breath at the news. “She wants to know who we are, and I think we should tell her.”

Minho eyed you warrily while you ate dinner with your family that night. You looked back at him several times during dinner, swearing in your head that you knew someone was there. Every once in awhile you could see his outline, like he was trying to manifest entirely, but didn’t have the strength to do so. He thought about what Chan had said. He himself had seen you googling the case, trying to find out everything you could. He also was skeptical that Chan could just effortlessly talk to you. That was impossible. It’d been twenty years since they began their antics with the living, and never once had they been able to talk freely with them. They were dead, you were alive. It made sense to him that you all shouldn’t be able to communicate easily.

You suddenly excused yourself from the dinner table, swiftly going up the stairs and to your room. You’d had enough of whoever was staring at you. You wanted to talk to him, to know his story. Minho followed you, reluctantly standing in the corner of your room. He was about to speak, only to prove Chan wrong when Jeongin entered. He stopped abruptly at the sight of Minho. For a moment he thought he was going to be reprimanded, only to be silenced by the sound of your voice.

“There’s more than one of you in here.” You say, matter-of-factly. “You’re not Chan or Hyunjin. Who are you?” Neither of the boys felt any sort of hostility from you, but they were shaking in their boots anyway. Jeongin sighed, closing his eyes before speaking.

“I’m Jeongin.” He said, his eyes scrunched closed. “Do you remember me?” The boys were taken aback when you laughed joyously.

“So, you’ve finally decided to speak to me?” You responded, glancing around the room. You didn’t know how, but you sensed Jeongin by your desk, and the other entity by your closet. You could tell they were afraid. “I’ve been trying to get a word out of you for a while now.” Jeongin and Minho couldn’t believe what they were hearing. Minho asked him if he was okay, or if he felt anything. Jeongin felt fine, good even. His bright smile returned to his face, and he laughed. You smiled at the sound, feeling both of the entities relax.

“Who is your friend?” You ask, gesturing to the area in which you suspected he was.

“I’m-” Minho paused, shocked. “Lee Minho.” You hurriedly opened your laptop, searching his name as quickly as you could.

“Lee Minho, age 17 at the time of his abduction.” You read. You felt his presence behind you as you continued to read about him. He was among the bodies found with Hyunjin, but an article stated that he was killed after. He was almost unidentified, but a chip in one of his molars gave him away. You were relieved that they found his body, and that his family could have a proper burial for him, unlike Chan’s. The cause of death was ruled unknown on the report. You were curious, did he know how he died?

“Minho,” your voice was soft. He looked at you, waiting for you to continue. “How did you die?” The air turned cold as soon as the question left your mouth.

“Suffocation.” He replied, shaking at the chilling memory. He’d wished he was one of the lucky ones, like Changbin and Felix, who didn’t remember their death. He could recall every agonizing second. He remembered the terrified look on Woojin’s face when Park Jinyoung grabbed him, tearing his escape plan to shreds. He remembered the screams of the younger boys as he suffocated him in the front of every single one of them.

“I’m sorry,” you breathed, You could feel his hurt, the pain in his chest, and tears soon fell stubbornly down your cheeks. Jeongin hesitantly placed his hand on your back. You didn’t jump, but you leaned back into his hand, welcoming the comfort.

“I think we should talk to the guys.” Minho whispered.

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masterlist

[jj-ktae]

Tipsy Love (1/2)

Title : Tipsy Love

Genre : Drama / Angst-ish / Fluff

Author : Myself

Pairing : Jackson Wang x Reader

Summary : You have one bad addiction. Jackson is an instructor in a center for people with health problems and bad mental state. How will the addiction acts upon the two of them ? Will your forsaken self be able to change your mental state ?

It’s a One-shot. Part two will be up very soon ;)

PART 1

The street was crowded. Clouds were everywhere, like a ticking bomb over the salarymen's heads. Seoul is a huge city. Each person is only a tiny little part of the human presence in the island. One's goal is the same as his neighbors’. There's only one within four millions of men, women.

No wonder you felt so empty.

It was 4 A.M, and you were trying to walk down the alley leading to your house (you weren’t sure if it was the good street though). Your evening had been calm and filled with clouded memories of countless glasses scattered around the bar of your brother's pub. The sound of glass, and the noisy people around you, telling it was just okay to drink too much, since tomorrow you wouldn't even remember a thing, and gather the courage to speak to the beautiful man watching you with deep, dark envy. Like a vivid dream printed in your mind, you could only remember some parts of that big, insane moment of your life. Another one.

Life could be so useless sometimes. You hated how you just wanted to jump out of the first window after these evenings of false happiness and joy. It's not like you couldn't do anything about it though. You loved it, every aspect of it. Only, the aftermath was just hell.

As you passed by a little store, you finally recognize the big, white building in front of you.

''Finally...." Was all you could say before opening the big door, (after almost five minutes of looking for the good keys.) You had always wondered why you had so many, since your apartment had only two locks.

It's not like you cared right now anyway.

As soon as you entered the stifling flat, you felt it.

The nausea.

You ran to the toilet and emptied herself in the cabinet. You felt everything leave your stomach. Like a tornado twirling your organs, a fire burning your lungs, everything was going out in an endless spurt. This was the worst for you. When reality dawned upon you. When alcohol left your body. When gloom took the place of giggles and glassy smiles.

You couldn't stand up, you just couldn't. How many more days will you have to live to finally realize that you were ruining everything? But you couldn't do  anything.

You were simply addicted.

~*~

Just as the alarm clock rang in the big room, Jackson woke up from his deep slumber. He simply hit the little noisy cube and got up, feeling his stomach growling. When the doorbell rang, he wondered just who could come here this early. He just had time to shower, and he hoped he'll be able to, or else he'll be cranky all day, again.

The doorbell rang a second time, and right now Jackson wanted to chop whoever's head was behind the bloody door.

"I’m coming!" He yelled as he almost crawled to the door

"Hurry up, fat ass!" could be heard from behind the door. And now Jackson knew whose head was going to be cut and served as a dinner tonight.

Jinyoung. The bloody, noisy and arrogant Jinyoung.

"What the...?" Jackson said as he opened the door, facing a way-too-smiley Jinyoung in a tuxedo.

"Am I hot? I think I am, but I’m not sure, what do you think?" The young guy said. He was young, and had a cute face, surrounded by thick brown hair.

"It's 6.30 A.M., I’m fucking late, and you came all the way here to ask me if you're hot or not? Seriously man, you've got a problem." Jackson cried as he was already going back to his room.

"But you think I am? I mean, hot" Jinyoung tried again. Jackson just looked at him and went back to the bathroom, yelling a frustrated "I think you should get the fuck out!" before closing the door with a light thud.

Wang Jackson was a rather normal person. He'd just finished university and passed his degree in psychology, specialized in group and behavior therapy. He had finally found work in a big society where he could help and advise people. He was an open-minded and outgoing person. Always smiley and listening to other's problems. Maybe that's why he decided to make it his job.

Offering better lives was worth getting up at 6 A.M. every day. That's what Jackson thought.

Unfortunately, he was the type of man who was always mistaken for a player. His look had always been his biggest problems.

The reason of his poor and mediocre love life.

Jinyoung was in the kitchen, trying to eat something that resembled to a piece of cake (quite old, if you ask Jackson) and singing a very old Korean song when Jackson came back, hair still wet and completely dressed. He was wearing a pair of jeans and a white tee-shirt, showing his bulging features.

"So tell me, why are you like this?" Began the latter as he took a mug and poured some of the fresh coffee Jinyoung had just made for both of them.

"Got an Interview today; a big bank from Switzerland. Gotta get this job!" Retorted the young man as he took another sip of the hot, black liquid.

"Oh, and that is why you decided to come this early. Well just to let you know, I have a life, and I do have work. So I’ll be going." Answered Jackson. His work was at the very end of the city, and since his car was being fixed by a friend, he had to go by train.

"But, but, that's why I came! My interview is like what....5 minutes from your job? Want me to give you a ride?" The tuxedo man sang, still sipping his coffee.

"Well....I guess you're quite useful sometimes." Jackson uttered as a 'thank you' before grabbing his keys. "But we still have to go, moron." He added.

"How dare you speak like that to your super-hot-in-tuxedo best friend!" Jinyoung yelled as he faked indignation.

"Let's go?" Jackson winked at his pouty friend. "If you're a good boy, I’ll even buy you some ice cream! Chocolate flavored! Your favorite ~" He added.

"Fuck off, bastard" Was all he heard before Jinyoung tried to kick Jackson out of the flat.

~*~

After months and months of nagging and badgering from your two best friends, you had finally decided that you needed help. That you didn't have enough will to stop this vicious cycle.

Your friends had already enrolled you in a special program that was supposed to be one of the most efficient programs among all these group discussion available nowadays. At first they wanted you to go to a psychiatrist, but you immediately declared that that was "for mentally handicapped people" and preferred a weird group where you talk to people with the same problem as you.

It has been two years, and you were still as addicted to alcohol as you were in the past. It had begun in high school during parties, and it became more and more frequent. Now you couldn't go home without buying some of that precious liquid, or even stop in a pub to drink until you blacked out.

"So it's your first day now…are you nervous?" Choi Youngjae, your best friend asked. You were in a café near the emplacement where you had to go. 

The latter was drinking a cafe latte with a gloomy face.

"Well....I don't know. I don't expect anything from this. You forced me to go." You answered. You had a fucking huge headache, and you couldn't even think clearly, but then again, you wondered when was the last time you were able to do so was, anyway.

"Yah! You have to try at least! You need help! We’re all trying to cheer you up….but we won't be able to do it forever. Someday, you'll lose all your friends if you don't stop this." retorted Youngjae, while trying to figure out what exactly was wrong with his friend.

He never really understood how you began drinking so much. But at first, he didn't want to believe that you were addicted. He thought it had something to do with youth, or even challenge, rebellion. He only discovered it when he saw his best friend trying to kill herself with sleeping pills and some whiskey caramel. She was begging Youngjae to let him end his life. That she wouldn't be able to stop. That's when he knew his friend was in big trouble. Since then he had try everything, even weaning. But he failed miserably. Most of their friends didn't want to hang out with them anymore, mostly because you were always drunk, and you were able to completely ruin an evening. Youngjae and your other best friend, Mark, had then decided that you would go to these group therapies. Just to try.

"I know. I’m doing this for you." You almost whispered, but Youngjae heard it anyway, and as he smiled brightly at you, it felt like maybe this was worth spending some time in there.

"Glad to know that there’s still some sense in that big head of yours." Youngjae laughed, and he knew you had no intentions of stopping, but it was his last card, and he had to believe in it.

"So I’ll be going. I hope I won't be surrounded by psychos." You snorted. You were not really in the mood today, so no chit-chat.

You left your friend and went straight to the building, wondering what on earth you were doing.

~*~

"Ok guys! That's it for today!" Jackson yelled at the men in front of him. His third meeting was for emotionally shocked people. This was the most difficult one, because they were not really talkative. Sometimes even Jackson felt uneasy around them.

Now he had to go to the next meeting. Jackson hated to admit it, but this one was the most delicate.

The Alcohol Addiction meeting.

The room was empty as he came and proceeded to place the chairs in circle, as he usually did. Everyone could talk to others and participate in a big discussion. Contrary to what one might think, this wasn't the usual whiny group discussions that people saw on television. In his groups, Jackson always tried to talk a little about the problem, and a lot about other things, because dwelling on misfortunes was not his forte, and also didn't really help people.

He even tried to organize little trips, or even walks in Tokyo. That was why his program was one of the most appreciated by his boss and he was rather proud of himself for that.

He often had visits of people coming back to him and thanking him for his help when they needed it the most. That was pure bliss for Jackson.

As people entered the room, Jackson was reading the list of persons registered for today. A new program meant a new group of alcoholics were here.

"So, to begin with, my name is Jackson Wang, and I’ll be your instructor during this program. I know this might be a little "weird" for some of you, but this won't look like anything you’ve seen on TV" He began. He was pretty confident in this, and had already prepared a whole month of activities and talks for his new "friends".

"First, I’m just going to ask you to do a little introduction of yourself, just to feel at ease. I know it's difficult to talk in front of strangers, so no need to talk a lot, a simple thing will do, we'll have plenty of time to learn about each other." Jackson continued. Everybody was silent and listening to him, as usual.

"So, who would like to begin?" asked the instructor. To his surprise, one man lifted his hand. He looked like he was in his 40 and was wearing shorts with a green shirt.

"So, my name is Yoon Hyun Jin. I've been drinking since the age of 20....I haven’t been able to stop since then. I realized, after I lost my wife and son, that I needed to stop this. I’m quite the violent type"

Jackson nodded. He'd seen this case to many times. He asked someone else.

"My name is Kim Baek Sun, and I began drinking last year. I’m 24, by the way. work in a pub, so it's pretty easy for me to drink non-stop...I think I’ll be fired if I don't stop, and my parents can't stand the idea of me drinking shots and shots of alcohol. I’m quite lost to tell you the truth."

Everybody was listening with attention to what the others had to say and they almost all talked once, one after another, smiling, blushing and trying to explain their situation to everybody, knowing they won't ever be judged by people like them.

When it was your turn, the last one, everybody turned to you. You suddenly felt so small that if you could you'd have dug a hole and hid in it.

"I…have nothing to say. Sorry". You knew you should have said something else, but you couldn't.

"Come on, I’m sure you can come up with something. Your name, if you know it, that is." Jackson said, and everybody laughed a little at the comment. It wasn't said in a mean way, but rather in a friendly gesture, though you didn't like it at all.

"Y/N. Happy?" You shot back. Jackson was a bit surprised to see such behavior but he didn't flinch.

"Very much so." He simply said, and began talking about their first little walk near the Han River with big enthusiasm.

~*~

"And then? I mean, you ran and... fell into the pool?" Jackson was laughing so hard. Today was the "funny memories" session and everybody was enjoying some iced tea with a, big, brown chocolate cake made by one of the member.

"Well....it moved suddenly, I was so scared! I ran off and the next thing I knew.... I was in the water....and it was freaking cold!" The old man declared. Everybody laughed again and Jackson continued after he swallowed another piece of the delicious cake.

"What was it finally?" He asked.

"......My son...playing hide and seek..." Answered the old man, clearly embarrassed by the ridiculous situation.

Jackson burst out laughing and everybody followed, while the old man felt himself blush at his own past stupidity.

Only you were in a corner and trying to think about everything except what you had been avoiding for the past week. It was hell, and you were trying so hard not to break and go in the nearest bar to get wasted again. Jackson saw it and went near you  as everybody was laughing at someone's story.

"Not feeling well?" He tried calmly. Jackson knew that some people couldn't support this as easily as others, and he saw that you just needed to drink right now.

"Why do you care?" You found yourself asking, frustrated. "You just have to entertain us, make us forget what we shouldn't do...how I’m feeling doesn't have anything to do with you." She spat.

"Well...I do care about all of you. I need to know how you all feel, so I can help better. That's why I’m here." He said. He was talking as if a 5-year-old boy was facing him. He tried to be as gentle as he could, but honestly he was getting tired of your behavior already. He ignored you at first, thinking that maybe you were just going through a hard time. But as days passed, your mood was getting worse and worse, and Jackson just wanted to wake you up from your living dream.

"I’m not a retard you know, stop talking to me like my teacher at kindergarten did. I know why I’m here, and if you want to know, I stopped drinking the day I entered the group." You reluctantly admitted.

"You know, sometimes I feel like you're here because someone forced you. You won't get anything out of this if you don't even want to be here in the first place. I may help people, but I’m not a magician. I can't change people's mind and way of thinking. If you're not going to help us and talk, then don't, but you're wasting your time here. When people try to forget about their addiction, I can almost hear you think about what alcohol you'd like to drink and how you'll get drunk again." sighed Jackson. Every time people like you came, they left after 10 days, and went back to clubbing and alcohol as soon as left the center. Jackson knew this type of girl. Young people wasting their lives for some ridiculous, sour beverage.

As if it made some sense in your head, you suddenly became calmer. "It's not that I don't want to change...but I’m really not doing it for me...I don't want to lose people around me...but I’m not strong enough to stop by myself." You whispered.

"That's why I’m here. If you want to change, then that's a good start." Jackson smiled. So, she wanted to change after all. He nudged you a little. "Come on, smile! Everybody's trying hard, no need to ramble, just try to participate. And I swear, this cake is just heaven!" he continued.

You smiled and tried to ignore the warm feeling going through your body while Jackson was already cutting himself another piece of cake.

~*~

"So yeah...basically, the idea is that we go camping near Noeul Park." Jackson began. Everybody had just arrived and he was already preparing the little trip that was happening in a few days.

"I know it's sudden, but I got the idea yesterday. I know I suck. But we'll have fun! And we need to evaluate everybody's situation. And I thought that camping would be a great idea!" Jackson tried to cheer everybody, and some people were into it. Some of them couldn't go because of work, but almost everybody was ok with the idea.

You were more than reluctant. Camping has never been what you liked the most, even when you were a member of the scouts –another bad life choice-. Since then you had completely forgot how to live without a real bathroom, a bed and all the commodities.

"So hmm...Y/N, are you coming?" Jackson asked with a bright smile. You suddenly felt uneasy and out of control. Jackson smile was even brighter than the sun and you couldn't help but smile back shyly.

"So yeah, here's the list, please write your name down, and then we'll proceed to the preparation." Jackson went to the little black board on the wall and explained to everybody how everything was going to happen.

You simply sat low in your chair, wondering what the hell you agreed to.

~*~

"You did what?" Youngjae and Mark were both shocked when you announced them that you were going on a little camping session.

"I didn't have a choice...everybody was staring at me...I just.... nodded? And this is part of the program. I haven't drunk anything in two weeks now...I’m on the verge of breaking down. I think I need some fresh air." You sighed.

"Well...from that point of view.... sounds pretty decent to me." Youngjae said and you took another sip of soda.

"So, how are you feeling...going without alcohol...isn't it too hard?" Mark asked cautiously. It had always been a tense topic between them since you had never admitted that you had problems. Now that you were following the program, you were always clean, and even if your mood was not the best, at least you didn't feel like shit all day and night.

"Don't ask me...you don't want to know. I told you, I’m going to break down soon..." You leaned on the wooden table. Why was it so hard? You felt like no one could understand you. Not even your best friends. It looks so easy to stop from an exterior point of view, but in fact, it's even harder than trying to stop smoking. Hell on earth.

As you came back home that day, you tried so hard not to think about the bottle of whisky, untouched, in the kitchen.

~*~

"You did what?" Jinyoung asked, dumbfounded. Jackson had just announced him that he was going to camp with the group. He was more than surprised to see his best friend in such a high mood.

"I want to go camping with them. The boss didn't lie when he told me people where even harder to handle this month. Everybody's on the verge of collapsing." Jackson whined.

"Well, you know one month is not enough for most of them" Jinyoung concluded. He had never been a pro in these things, but he certainly knew that alcohol was a tough topic. Even tougher than when he tried to stop his addiction to reading.

"I know, the program lasts one month, but everybody comes regularly to ask for advice. They almost all have my phone number. I follow them all, don't worry." Jackson answered as he went to the oven to take his freshly made lasagne.

"Any rebels? There's always one 'tough' person who acts all posh and cold." Jinyoung snorted.

As he asked that, your face appeared almost immediately in Jackson's head, but he brushed it away.

"Nope, everybody's good to me~" He sing-sang.

Jinyoung laughed. Jackson has always been everybody's professor, father, brother, friend. He was really kind when it came to his 'friends' and he knew these people were lucky to have such a good person taking care of them.

"Ok, my fat friend, I gotta go, Swiss banks don't joke with money!" He took his dark blue jacket and went to the door, yelling ‘good luck’ to his friend before closing it.

Jackson sighed again and proceeded to go to the living room to eat in front of another stupid television show, before falling asleep.

PART 2