#chanchen grunge

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I'll seach the universe untill I find you again

About Chanyeol & Chen 

[hobiscoffee3-blog]

Paper Cuts, Paper Burns

Chenbaek Fanfiction - 1 Chapter: Chen is a Journalist but wants to be a writer. He is dealing with a long depression after his mothers passing and have lost his will to live

I woke up to the sound of the train that passed by outside my apartment. My head was aching from the wine I had last night. I could barely think straight, it was almost killing me but it wasn’t my first hangover. Shouldn’t I be used to it by now? Was I expecting something else? I don’t know what I was expecting. I knew I would feel like shit today.

I sat up on the edge of my bed and looked around my uncleaned apartment. It was small. A room with a big bookshelf of my many collections of book that couldn’t fit so most of them was stacked on top of each other. There was my TV, a table with an old bowls with unfinished cereals and my couch that I got from my beloved mother. I looked over at my desk with my unfinished books and scrips I’ve been working on that’s been turned down more than once. The smell of an cold half empty coffee cup made me realize that I probably should clean my apartment but I tell myself that every morning but every morning it’s the same story. An uncleaned apartment and every stack of books, papers and cereal bowls just get bigger and bigger. I was sleeping on a bed in the corner of the room. I had a separate kitchen and a bathroom in another room.

Fuck, my head hurts so bad. I needed an aspirin.

I stood up and nearly fell because of the headache. It eased down quickly but I still needed to control my balance. There is books everywhere I go but I survived. I picked a glass I had used from yesterday to fill up with water and took the aspirin.

There is only one left in the capsule. Better get new ones. I barely have any food either. I literally live on coco pops and captain crunch. I am soon out of milk too. Maybe I’ll go to the store later. I turned on the coffee machine and made my way to the bathroom to wash my face. I still have dark circles around my eyes, I look skinnier. I look like a character from a Tim Burton movie. I don’t know what character this is though, I don’t know him. I realized that I don’t like him. No, I hate him. What’s the point? We live alone, we die alone. Everything else is just an illusion.

I poured up the coffee, grabbed my cigarette and went outside to the balcony. My lighter is almost empty but I still got enough gas in it. I forced out the flame to light my cigarette and let the smoke fill my lungs.

Ah, the feeling of the first smoke in the morning. There is nothing like it. I grabbed my cup and took a sip. The taste reminds me of how my mother used to do it. If she was here she would probably nag, why is my apartment dirty and how I need to clean it but then she would do it herself right away.

I smiled at that thought and looked down in the cup. This cup was my mother’s. I remember the day me and my sister was cleaning her house and packed up the last things.

”Take what ever you would like”, my uncle said. I took some things like her cups, the couch and a few books. My sister wanted the old clock from the living room and her necklace that mother always used, it was in her will. She also took some photo albums of us.

”Are you sure you don’t want any albums?”

”No, it’s okay. You can keep them.”

My sister took out one of the pictures from the album and gave it to me. It was a picture of my mom and my dad on the beach with my sister who was 8, hugging the 5 year old me. My beautiful mother who was so happy and healthy back then. I couldn’t hold back my tears and my sister comforted me. She was always the stronger one. After we got home from the hospital that day she already booked a date for the funeral so everything would be ready and just as mom would’ve wanted it. She is just like our father. He always had control, he knew the solutions to all our problems and he always told us, ”After rain, there’s sunshine.” We where lucky to have both of them. I am lucky to have my sister. She’ve done so much for me. I wish I could do something back but I’m afraid what she would say if she’ll see me like this.

I then felt my phone vibrate in my pocket and as I could’ve guessed, it’s my sister.

”Hello?”

”Hi, why haven’t you return to any of my calls?”

”I’ve been busy.”

”Really? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for two weeks and you can’t return one single call or text?”

”Okay, I’m sorry.”

”I’m worried about you, Jongdae. Do you want me to come over?”

”No it’s fine. I gotta go to work” I said while rubbing my eyes as I felt the anxiety. I start in 30 minutes and I’m not sober. My fucking boss and that boring desk. All the ass kissing employers and gossipers. The money is enough to pay rent at least.

”Okay. Just tell me know if you’ll need anything. I love you.”

”I love you too, bye.”