#it enrages me. it makes me shake with hatred. it is such a fucking scam and yet everyone does free fucking advertising for it
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also the people who keep telling me to go to collge are miserably obnoxious. according to my GED tests im already college level in every single subject. in reading and science i had the highest score possible. everything else was one point below the maximum score. going to college is a waste of my time, literally.
#this isnt a brag post this is a rant post#why the fuck would i torture myself with college when im already comparable to a college graduate#i dont need a stupid piece of paper#like seriously even in math im comparable to college students. i got 5 less than the maximum score in math. my absolute weakest subjuct#is 5 points below maximum scores. I LITERALLY DO NOT NEED COLLEGE. the people who work there and conduct the tests#DID go to college and they all told me they scored considerably less than me. a few of them said they barely scored passing scores.#So the people who graduate could possibly and are literally worse off than i am.#why. why would i waste 4+ years of my life and potentially hundres of thousands of dollars and make myself miserably#miserable****#just shut up#every single time you fuckers tell me to go to college i am more and more convinced it's a waste of my time#and no i dont need to have a specific occupation title in mind for me to be successful. it's called being flexible#if i dont take up the jobs available i will starve. taking whatever job i can is better than waiting around for the world to give you every#thing on a silver platter. like seriously shut up you sound so entilted and ignorant to the realities of REALITY.#my entire fucking life it has been nothfing but people hounding me over college. LITERALLY since i was 5 fucking years old.#they had us write college essays for scholarships in second grade.#every field trip was to a college. we went to easily every single college in the state at least once.#every single fucking time i hated it more and more and i wanted to go less and less.#it enrages me. it makes me shake with hatred. it is such a fucking scam and yet everyone does free fucking advertising for it#why the FUCK do you give a SINGLE SHIT about what i choose to do or not to do in terms of collge. why the FUCK do you assume#that college is feasible for everyone in any way. (finacially emotionally physically etc etc) just fuck off serious fucking ly#rant#college is a scam#anti college
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âŹÂ pairing: mingyu x fem!reader | purge!au âŹÂ word count: 15,728. âŹÂ warnings: weapons, death, drugs, blood. âŹÂ genres: ANGST, spicy/nsfw scenes, fluff to mend the heart, romance, action, and whatever else you could fathom lol.
â§â synopsis: the annual purge was a system of purification, alleviation, a supposedly psychological device in which people found a moment to unleash their indignation. you never purged until you met mingyu, a boy whose warmth was just as palpable as his darkness. you begin to fall for him, which means involvement with the evil heâs managed to attract.
â§â a/n: longer note at the end of the fic! sorry iâve kept this in the vault for AGES bc i couldnât figure out how to write in the âtwistâ or whatever the fuck. youâll know when you get there. anyways this is for @mihgyu (sorry it freakin took so long!) and @solgyusâ as they are my Resident Mingyu Stans. i also changed the title bc i thought... yknow... it fits better!
You had always wondered what life was like for the previous generation, the generation who grew up without acquaintance to the annual purge. It was an alien concept if any concept at all, one so foreign and inexplicably bizarre that the cogs in your mind would start jamming against each other in a struggle of comprehension. The education system had groomed its pupils into believing it was the only plausible way to recover from an economic collapse, feeding into gullible and malleable minds the possibility of clearing rage through bloodshed.
When your parents disappeared at dawn, leaving nothing behind but the sound of a lock clicking shut and a note advising you to stay away from the windows and doors, it could be assumed theyâd return at morning with crimson-stained clothing, crusted lacerations, and heavy weaponry sealed taunt to their hands; or maybe they wouldnât return at all. Yet you were taught to believe that was okay. At least if you didnât have your family, you had your friends.Â
At least if you didnât have your family, you had Mingyu.Â
As much as you despised admitting to yourself, Mingyu meant to you what the moon meant to the tides, what the sun meant to the meadows. He kept you in perpetual motion, allowed you room to recuperate and blossom into a much stronger version of yourself after your father never came home. When he lost his job your family lost its momentum. The last you ever saw of the man was his backside as he slipped through the door frame, a chortling in the evening air, a black revolver clasped to his hand.
He seemed to disappear alongside your motherâs sanity. She isolated herself and pushed everyone away, even you, the only person capable of nurturing her. In school youâd learned that the purge was supposed to bring purification, it was responsible for cleansing humans of the everyday stresses that slowly crushed them flat. Purging allowed them happiness; a twelve hour capsule to unleash what the law prohibited three-hundred-sixty-four days a year.
Yet when you looked to your mother, you didnât see any traces of happiness or fulfillment, just an empty shell that sat with sunken eyes in her rocking chair, mumbling to herself like a toddler. Before you even had time to find closure after your fatherâs disappearance, your mother suffered a similar fate, abducted through the windowsill by a maniac who sought vengeance for the crimes committed beneath your fatherâs hand. He was a stingy businessman who often scammed to make his money, therefore collecting a myriad of enemies.
Notably, you didnât start purging until you met Mingyu. The first time youâd ever used a gun with malicious intent was when you ran into the man responsible for abducting your mother. The kick-back from the trigger had you stumbling across the watered asphalt, the silver slick rain that caved down from the clouds washing away the minuscule spatters of his blood that blew onto your face. As he slumped down against the red bricks, the animation draining slowly from his eyes, he spluttered,
âS-Sheâs dead, she payed for your fatherâs incompetence, his greed.â
In complete lifelessness you lowered the weapon, not realizing how close the distant gunfire sounded until Mingyu had to drag you away by the wrist. He murmured his condolences to you when the air was tinged with less bloodshed, carefully nuzzling you into his chest when the reality of what youâd just done had come spiraling forth, leaving a slap so brutal across your face the burn seemed more realistic than the raindrops hitting your skin.
You felt disgusting, enclosed in a body that had been consumed by the purest form of hatred, and there was nothing you could do to evade the feeling of that ugly gun pressed into your hand. But within that same moment, hot tears pumping onto Mingyuâs shirt, you understood a certain satiation that tempted so many people to do what you had just done.
âWe canât stay here,â You felt the vibrations from his deep voice against your cheek, coolness stinging the heated flesh of your face when you lifted your head to meet his gentle eyes.
âGotta keep moving, alright? Itâll be over soon, I promise.â
Mingyuâs composure was definitely an admirable trait. But then again, heâd been exposed to this environment long before you ever questioned purging. At that point you had felt completely numb, allowing him to wind you through the crevices and shadowy tunnels building the foundation of the city, your vision blurred by a mixture of salt and rain water. You felt safe with Mingyu, though it hadnât always been like that. Before your friendship you were an outsider to the boy, harbouring nothing but a tiny crush toward him and his handsome face.
In fact the first time youâd ever spoken to Mingyu, it was after his fight with Wen Junhui, one of the most infamous, cynical purgers you prayed to never meet.
Two Years Ago â
âIâll kill you if you come near her again!â
âIs that supposed to scare me?!â
Youâd never seen a fist fight in real life before, and you were positive that was a good thing. A large crowd steadfastly increased around two tall, venom-eyed boys caught up in their alcohol. They were spitting profanities, threats, and whatever else their clouded minds could formulate within the gap of the otherâs speech. The party had been rather lackluster before that point anyways, so like the congregation swarming to the centre of the room, you etched into the crowd and managed to stand just inside the inner circle.
âShit â sorry,â you squeaked as you were suddenly shoved into the girl beside you. Your face became hollow like a crater on the moon when you saw that it was Mingyuâs girlfriend.
âWhat am I supposed to do?â She mumbled whilst biting her nails, âI didnât know how to stop it.â
âStop the fight?â
She continued babbling, âJunhui kept coming on to me and Mingyu saw. Theyâre both competitive, boggle-brained idiots when theyâre drunk. I donât know what to do.â
Her name was Yang Yeeun, born and raised by parents maintaining such wealth that rumours began circulating their bloodstream was crushed rubies. You could see her pearl earrings flashing behind the straight black locks framing her small face. You donât think she ever took them off. Her father manufactured security systems for the purge; however, the most recent release had been proven to bore many defects and flaws. She didnât care, as long as she got a slice of the wealth.
In the beginning, Yeeun and Mingyuâs relationship came as a slap to the wrist. How could two people reaping such difference in personality become so close? Yeeun was frank and staid, with cold, cindered eyes that never displayed an eclipse of emotion. Her complexion was just as pale as the pearls she wore and her heart swam darkly.
Mingyu was her polar opposite.Â
Sure he was intimidatingly tall, but any menace he constructed with his height was easily derailed through his bubbly nature. He was what you call, âa gentle giant,â and anyone who contacted him for more than a brief period understood this. The warmth was in his honey-brown gaze, the velvet of his tanned skin, the sepia tones that were shaggy in his hair. When he spoke you could feel the gravel roll beneath your feet, and when he said your name heat would flood your face like steam throughout a hot spring.Â
Again, Mingyu and Yeeun made a bizarre couple, yet he loved her so deeply you swore the dark coverings in her heart had peeled back a little.
You kept in mind, a little.
âTheyâre fighting over you?â You questioned carefully, trying not to exaggerate your words so that it seemed utterly impossible for her to be worth fighting over.
âYes,â Yeeun gritted, her eyes darting around the crowd, strangers pressing into the circle, allured by drunken shouting, âcanât they wait until purge before they start ripping into each other?â
Wouldnât it be best if they didnât rip into each other at all?
âLike you said, theyâre drunk and stupid,â you opted for the latter choosing.
Mingyuâs mellow stare had been licked over by enraged flames, the remaining liquor still pumping through his system and warming his blood until it sizzled. His fists were balled tightly, fangs peeking past the taunt snarl on his lips. Junhui appeared calmer, though the bar of composure was quite low to begin with. The unkempt ends of his midnight black hair were shaking, his sharp nose crinkled, and his stare so impossibly intense that you were nauseated a vein on his neck might become engorged and pop.Â
As interesting as it would be for you to witness your first fist fight, you knew it wasnât a wise idea for these two to start swinging at each other.
You set a hand on Yeeunâs shoulder, âmaybe you should stop thiâ,â
Suddenly, her palms encased her mouth as the last few words of toxicity were spat between Mingyu and Junhui, the crowd erupting in brazen cheering as the two lunged for one another in a flash of blurred colour. Your jaw was permanently unhinged, your body set in stone, attention completely spellbound under the boys who were viciously entangled. The world seemed to spin at a snailâs pace whilst the fight flickered faster than lightning. At one point Mingyu had Junhui shoved up against the wall, one hand nearly ripping through the boyâs black-collared shirt as he tore his free fist back and swiftly launched it forward. The hard ridges of Mingyuâs knuckles connected with Junhuiâs eye, his head smashed back into the drywall so that an indentation remained.
âG-Get the fuck off me, Mingyu!â
âYou fucking asked for this, dumbass!â
In another fuzzy whirlwind of movement, Junhui managed to push Mingyu backward and onto the snack table, bowls and bottled alcohol spilling across the floor with jade shards of glass scattering in flurries. Junhui drew his fist into Mingyuâs face, the collision splintering against Mingyuâs brow bone. You could see the speckles of blood flying off Junhuiâs hand as he curled his fingers into another ball, preparing to throw once more. Panic encompassed you from every angle; it drowned you above your head until the crowdâs bellowing became a muffled choir to your ears.Â
You could hardly breathe as your sights shifted to Yeeun, the girl with her hands still clasped to her mouth, doing absolutely nothing.
Was that a smirk hidden behind her hands?
She really did have a dark heart. By the looks of it no one was going to intervene. You were most likely the soberest person in attendance. Even if it downright petrified you, letting those two get their hands so bloodied it would look like they doused their arms in red paint wasnât a viable option.
âHey!â You barked, slowly etching your way into the clearing, âwhat the fuck is wrong with you two?! Get off each other!â
Mingyu and Junhui were still a violent mass now buckled to the floor, anger and alcohol swelling through their bodies like a drug. You felt your knees wobble, as though a tight fist had an ironclad grip on your entrails and was squelching them around slowly. Junhui had Mingyu pressed to the floor, and raised in his arm was a sparkling shard belonging to a smashed bottle. You didnât know what it was, but something inside compelled you to react. In a mere instant you were ripping the shard from Junhuiâs hand and screaming at the top of your lungs, the crowdâs cheering turned to hushed whispers.
âEnough!â
Your chest was heaving, fingers grasping the glass piece tightly enough that thin lines of red began dripping down your hand. Junhui and Mingyu had peeled themselves apart, the deep marring of hatred etched so profoundly into their eyes youâd never be able to forget it. Yeeun suddenly blossomed with emotion after standing on the outskirts smirking into her palm, the girl bounding toward Mingyu and snaking her arms around his neck like sheâd been downright sobbing with worry the whole time.
âCâmon, Gyu,â she gritted, âweâre leaving.â
Thanks for the help.
You were tempted to call.
The fight between Mingyu and Junhui might have stopped, but the party continued to thrive. You were wandering through the upstairs hallway as the wooden floorboards jolted beneath you, driven by incessant music that became a furthering echo. Fresh blood had yet to stop streaming down the grooves between your knuckles, pooling from the lacerations of that jagged, glass shard and wetting your warm skin. You continued seeking for a bathroom, any room really that might contain a first aid kit, or at least some water and tissues that would help to clean your hand.
Each room was either occupied or locked. A defeated sigh ghosted from your lips as you stood at the end of the hall, weakly knocking your healthy hand against the last door. Scarlet drops were creating a puddle on the wood whilst you waited, until the brass handle jiggled and you were stepping back in shock that someone had actually acknowledged your presence.
Of course, the person doing the acknowledging had to be Yeeun.
âOh! Itâs⌠you.â She murmured. Behind her slim frame you could see Mingyu sitting on the sink, holding a cloth to his eyebrow.
âItâs me,â you replied, desperately wanting to skip the small talk and use the first aid kit. Didnât she say she was leaving?
Yeeun finally noticed the red pathways on your hand and nodded, âI see you need to get yourself bandaged up.â
âYeah, thatâd be nice.â You hummed, trying not to sound impatient but utterly failing.
âWell⌠Iâll be right back then. Just so you know thereâs no gauze left.â
âThatâs okay, I donât think Iâll need anâ,â
âIâm going to look for some!â Yeeun called as she squeezed her way past you and began trudging down the corridor, âbe back soon!â
Mingyu tossed you a lopsided smile when you entered the bathroom. You kicked the door shut with your foot to drown as much noise as possible. Though the small barrier didnât do too much in regards to sound, it certainly made the bathroom feel one-hundred times smaller. Or maybe it was solely Mingyu and his gargantuan height. Perhaps it wasnât any of those factors and you were just feeling nervous to be enclosed in a private space with him. Either way, your face turned into magma and you felt like swallowing sand. Without saying a word you turned on the sink and let the cold water stream between your fingers.
âHey.â He began.
Oh no. If you initiate conversation with me thereâs a ninety-nine percent chance Iâm going to fall in love with you.
âThanks for intervening. You kinda saved my life there.â
You scoffed whilst scrubbing the dry scarlet from your wrist, âI think you could have taken him.â
Mingyu took the wet cloth from his brow and folded it over before reapplying pressure to his own wound, sighing deeply. âFuck this. I hate getting drunk.â
Fastening your teeth into your lower lip, you remained silent and continued swirling around the bloodied skin until the red currents seemed to all drain away, down the white porcelain. You winced a little because there was indeed a stinging sensation, but it was better than allowing the cuts to get infected. Mingyuâs curious gaze was watching the scene intently, and with his body propped right next to the sink, there was really no easy way to avoid your feelings other than to talk with him.
âHowâs your injury?â
âI donât know, how is it?â He peeled the damp cloth from his brow bone. You could see that directly in the centre the skin had spilt, a little ways above the brow and a little beneath it, bright pink flesh gleaming from between the dark hairs and tanned skin. It would definitely leave a scar.
âIâm no doctor, but you might need stitches.â
âSeriously?â Mingyu grimaced. âThat fucking sucks.â
You scoffed. âThatâs funny. The same kid who socked Junhui in his eye is afraid of getting a few itty bitty baby stitches.â
Mingyu pouted, his thick brows then slanting downward which made him wince petulantly. You couldnât suppress your chuckling, turning off the sink with a coy smile playing along your mouth.
âIâm joking.â
âI know.â Mingyu said. âIâm sure everyoneâs gonna start saying heâll rake my eyes out at purge.â
You laughed at that too, though deep down you both knew it wasnât anything flowery to laugh about. Junhui was the definition of nefarious. Similar to Yeeun his family danced in riches, their security systems were top-notch, and his access to weaponry and blueprints of the city could be in his hands within minutes. People worshiped the ground he walked on, but it wasnât because they liked him. It was only sensible to play nice to the person capable of taking your life away in a single breath.Â
Of course, Junhuiâs reputation made him a prime target, yet despite all the people who secretly wanted him dead, it was difficult to even lay a scathe on his amber skin.
In your eyes it was better to avoid the boy altogether. That way you never gave him any reason to seek out your oblivious-self during the annual purge. Mingyu had crossed that line to the fullest extent. He laid more than an innocent scathe on Junhui; the boy had given him an entire fist to his pretty, supposedly untouchable face. Feeling your heartbeat thump widely, you quickly willed to change the subject.
âDo you see any cloths? Or Kleenex? Anything?â
Mingyu frowned. âSorry, nothing.â
You shook your arm out over the sink to shed some water droplets, yet the blood still continued to bead. Mingyu looked sympathetic. He presumed it was his fault you were even injured in the first place.
âYeeunâs getting gauze.â
âI think Iâll be okayâ,â
âWait!â Mingyu suddenly piped. âThis might be super awkward butâ,â the boyâs tongue peaked out between his pink lips as he gripped the end of his white t-shirt and gave it a tear, pulling off a strip of fabric.
Your cheeks began crackling and your palms felt oddly clammy, âM-Mingyu, donât worry, Iâll be fine.â
âDoesnât matter,â the boy said, âthis shirtâs old and busted anyways. Itâs better than walking home, dripping blood everywhere.â
You smiled softly and stared at the floor.
âHere! Iâll even wrap it for you.â He purred, gently reaching for your arm and twining the white material like a roll of bandages around your hand.Â
Forgetting about his own spilt brow that began clotting with blood, Mingyu finished his dexterous work with a tender glance that made your stomach flip, his chocolate bangs falling endearingly before his eyes. After shaking the fringe away, he gave you a thumbs-up.
âNow you look like you just got into a fight.â
âRight, because Iâm the first person everyone suspects to start a fight. You hit the nail on the head with that one.â
Mingyu chuckled at the heavy sarcasm, blinking his pretty lashes at you with such warmth you keened to melt like an ice cream cone. You supposed after that moment, Mingyu might not be nearly as brutal as his drunken, love-induced mind influenced him to be. For a fleeting moment you even doubted that this was the same boy with his own kill-list. His eyes glimmered like diamonds catching a shaft of light.
âThatâs something only time can tell.â He purred
Two Years Ago â
When Mingyu and Yeeun broke up, it was like the universe took its cue to make everything in life feel unreal. If their romance was nothing more than a mirage, then had romance ever existed in the first place? At least to you, it routinely appeared as though Yeeunâs heart had never been within the same realm as Mingyuâs. There was always an island of separation between them, one little ploy that prevented the couple from truly clicking like puzzle pieces. That ploy was exigent in the form of onyx hair, a sultry voice, and bottomless eyes.
In other words the obstacle was Junhui. Yeeun started dating him no less than a month after the break-up.
Mingyu, he was crushed; taking the point of devastation and expanding it an extra nine yards. In contrast with Yeeunâs heart, his was always wide open, warmer than a summer fire and more embracing than sun rays. You swore she would be the girl he took to meet his mother, the girl whose finger he delicately touched to slide upon a silver loop. A part of you crumbled each time you saw them together, before the break-up, and even more so after the party.
Remembering how his rough fingertips skimmed the wet (and surely burning) skin of your hand as he wrapped the cloth around it did something peculiar to your mind. Reminiscing on the soft timbre of his chuckles made your head spin, and replaying the manner in which his eyes twinkled as he gazed at you through his thick bangs brought forth fluttering in your stomach. It was what you were daydreaming about even after their infamous break-up, fingers clacking against the keys on your laptop whilst you finished an essay in the library. To your dismay, the thoughts were scattered by conversation at the table behind you.
âThink Junhui is gonna gut Mingyu at purge?â
âProbably not, Mingyu would be expecting it. And itâs not like heâs hopeless. Did you hear about how he stabbed someone to death in the tunnel last year?â
âYeah. But Junhuiâs clique practically owns the purge. Theyâll tear your fuckinâ house down if they can find it.â
ââŚTrue. Those two seriously have some bad fucking blood. Do you remember the rumours about how Junhui shoâ â
Unable to listen any longer without this horrendous churning against the walls of your stomach, you shoved your laptop into its carrying case, swung it over your shoulder and began shuffling between the book shelves. Your stare traced the floor whilst a pummeling sensation thundered into your ribcage. Mingyu didnât seem like the type to kill, though you didnât know him personally, and perhaps he had matters of vengeance that crooned for redemption. This tiny hope inside you flickered, prayed that Mingyu was unlike Junhui, the kind that tortured for tortureâs sake, the kind that shoved a pistol beneath your jaw because you looked at them funny.
Suddenly, you collided with someone. Blinking upward, you gazed at the body youâd walked into, Mingyu, who was in the midst of pulling out a book.
âSorry! I wasnât looking where I was going.â You apologized.
You hadnât seen him for a while, but he looked healthy, a bit tired perhaps, but mostly healthy. Dressed in comfy clothing, a grey hood drawn with his earbuds plugged in, he popped one of the speakers out and lent a small smile. His eyes were slightly veiled by his earthy bangs, the coarse fronds wavy in front of his forehead. His scent was a concoction of something tropic mixed with cannabis, and when he spoke his voice was lower than usual.
âWere you leaving?â Mingyu asked.
Yes.
âNo, no. I wanted to finish my essay somewhere that wasnât... back there.â
âOh,â he sighed, âseemed like you were in a rush.â
âI was just thinking.â
Mingyu stuck the book back into its gap and smiled, âabout?â
You sniffled. âWhat?â
âWhat were you thinking about?â
Obviously you were not going to admit that you just overheard conversation about Mingyu being gutted under Junhuiâs hand, about Mingyu supposedly cramming a knife through whoeverâs chest during last yearâs purge, about Mingyuâs history of participation in the annual mayhem that plagued the country like a sickness each year. Now that the purge was on your mind, a dark worry skulked in the shadowy crevices of your brain, yet it seemed to dissipate just as quickly as it arrived when Mingyu stared at you so gently.
âHow much I hate essays.â
He nodded. âThat must be it.â
Without thinking, you blurted, âwhat happened with your eyebrow? Did you get a scar?â
He simply carded back the bangs covering his forehead and poked at the nick with his finger. It would have been courteous to receive a warning that he was going to reveal his forehead. He had no clue how powerful a mechanism it truly was, how badly you wanted to kiss that tiny scar after seeing the slit through his brow. Swallowing the flushed heat that arose in your throat, you grinned with a closed lip.
âWell, it makes you look like a badass if thatâs any comfort.â
Mingyu let his hair flop back into place and laughed quietly. âWhatâs up with your hand? That cut looked so nasty.â
Looking down at your fingers, you probed the faint lines of where the glass had sliced your skin, engraved almost, like a stone carving.
âKinda. It doesnât look as cool as your eyebrow slit though. And youâre way less busted than Jun. His eye is still purple.â
For a brief ellipse you simply embraced the opportunity of being alone with Mingyu. That some higher deity had taken pity on your life barren with romance and granted you this precious exchange to add to your vault of daydreams. The more his hoarse voice lapped at your ears, surely roughened yet equally soothing, you felt your chest create a burrow for him, a gap that only he could fill. It baffled you, that Yeeun could break his heart. But it didnât surprise you. She was built from titanium, similar to Junhui, and together they were hawks that would make prey of everyone.
âTrust me,â Mingyu said, âit wouldnât make me feel any better if we were matching.âÂ
His jaw clenched, and his stare slipped to the floor for a transient moment. A nearly imperceptible breeze tickled up the back of your neck, causing you to rub at the fine hairs as Mingyuâs usual aura slowly dissipated into a much darker nuance. You gulped, attempting to laugh something of comfort back into the air.
âThereâs a lot we could match in, like... bracelets! Or a necklace! Or one of those couple t-shirts... Not that weâre a couple,â stuttering helplessly, you felt electricity tingle in your cheeks, âI was just thinking about matching stuff and that popped into my heaââ
âItâs fine.â Mingyu responded, the storm clouds cast in his gaze finally ebbing away. He smiled, and a deep chuckle rumbled in his chest.
âYouâre pretty cute yâknow? I donât think Iâd mind.â
1 year ago â
You never spoke commonly to Mingyu about the idea of purging until you were thrust into the political nightmare on a whim, a stupid, stupid, moonstruck whim. The few times the morbid topic arose seriously, neither of you had enlightening stories to exchange. A bitter knot lodged itself into your throat the night you reiterated to Mingyu about the tragedies concerning your parents; the disappearance of your father and the abduction of your mother, a tearful lining glossy in your eyes.
Youâd never seen Mingyu express such grief when he returned the storytelling.
He moved out from his parentâs house when he was eighteen years old, his best friend, Minghao, making the journey alongside him. Faintly, you remembered Minghao, more or so from your high school days when you shared the same last period art class. He had always been rather subdue, never really speaking with anyone apart from Mingyu, though there had was a handful of times where you caught him and another boy, Wonwoo, skipping class together. Apparently Wonwoo didnât have a very good home life. Heâd supposedly been forced into purging since middle school, and his psyche never quite recovered.Â
You never even saw Wonwoo smile apart from when he was with Minghao.Â
However, one day that boy from your art class just disappeared, and the rumours hadnât stopped swirling since. It was a common fact that Minghao never purged. He didnât have any bad blood with anyone either.
Not that you were aware of.
In the beginning stages of Mingyuâs purging he used to commonly venture with a group of three friends. Wonwoo happened to be one of them, plus another named Jihoon (who you could recall dawdling around in the background of the party) though Mingyu never named the third. He described it as being pure, inexplicable dread. They were constantly finding themselves in gruesome situations that forced their true colours from camouflage, how they stole burning glimpses of the other when the night came to an end and blood was caked to their clothing. The purge had tainted all of them, some more than others, whether it be with drug addiction, eternal madness, or an unhealthy fascination to mend so seamlessly with the evil that they personified it.
However, genuine fear pitted in the core of your stomach when Mingyusâ fists had clenched in his lap, his features distracted by a look of anguish as he sucked in a breath and spoke in an unsettling, distant tone.
âIt was four of us in my car. I was driving, Wonwoo and Jihoon were in the backseat, and he... he took up the passenger seat. It was different... How he reacted to the purge... The rest of us were still somewhat fearful of it but he almost thrived in all the destruction. We were even talking about going purging without him the next year, but...
Mingyu had to clear his throat.
âI guess Minghao was waiting for me to come back to the house. He probably wasnât even waiting on me specifically, he had this little crush on one of my friends, Wonwoo. They were always messing around together. Minghao probably got excited when he heard us, so he came outside, onto the grass... But then I heard the pop of the gun out the open window... I just... I donât fucking know if he thought Minghao was a maniac or... If he was on drugs or something... But, God... He just ââ
You didnât allow him to say anymore when his words became warped, when his voice cracked and his eyes split like a sheet of broken glass. Minghao didnât just disappear - he was killed, and Mingyu knew who was responsible. Instead of pressing him for details, you reached for his hand, rubbed your thumb along his knuckles, made sure he knew that you were there for him.Â
And yet you had been thrust into the setting of the same picture during your first purge, the first time you had ever experienced what it was like to harm someone, turning their existence into an irreparable patch in the universe.
This is your emergency broadcast system, announcing the commencement of the annual purge.
At the siren, all crime, including murder, will be legal for twelve hours.
All emergency services will be suspended.
Your government thanks you for your participation.
âThis is going to be your entire fault if I die tonight, Mingyu! I just want you to know that!â
âRelax. Youâre going to be fine. Weâre going to be fine.â
It was nothing short of chaotic. Pitch blackness shrouded the skylight like a heavy cloth, the distant rattle of gunfire and screams sitting heavy in the air as you raced down the street. The horrendous acts were most commonly centred to the cityâs heart, where prime businesses, rich corporations, and notorious killers congregated to create havoc. Still, that didnât make you any less petrified, your nails sinking into Mingyuâs hand like dogâs teeth. Fights were slowly beginning to litter the sidewalk, a store going up in orange flame and hissing embers now glinting behind you.
âI knew that we werenât going to make it back to your place on time. I knew it was stupid that we even questioned going out on purge in the first place - Ah!â
You shrieked at an unprecedented decibel as two men came tumbling out of the alleyway only meters away from your feet, your body slamming into Mingyuâs backside when he cemented himself to a halt. The men payed no notice to you, entirely engulfed in their own world of vengeance through bloodied fists and messy punches.
âThis way.â Mingyuâs words were like a breeze in the midst of a hurricane.
You hardly registered heâd even said anything until his grip lurched you forward and you were stumbling to the opposite side of the street. Then, your jogging pace skyrocketed into running, the breaths just squeezing from between your lips and the pain in your chest aching so potently you felt like vomiting. Your stamina was breaking faster than glass. You couldnât afford to run any longer.
âM-Mingyu, can we please stop?â
The boy didnât seem to have a choice as your fingers began unclasping from his hand, your body collapsing on the concrete staircase belonging to the city bell tower. Mingyu anxiously carded his hair back, his eyes moving hyperactively down the street only to be greeted with more and more violence consuming his vision. Gunshots seemed to thunder from every direction, splintered shouts joining hymn. Large trucks blared down the black pavement with ominous members hunched in the open cap, holding weaponry and wearing masks of painted wood.
The boy squatted down, his palm firmly encasing your cheek and keeping your head up.
âIâll give you a minute. But then we have to keep going. Itâs too dangerous to stay in one spot.â
You stared into Mingyuâs face with a tiresome expression, the bronzed and gleaming hue of his skin reflecting the fire that crackled in the distance. His touch became sterner as he moved in closer, his eyes no less than a few inches from your own.
âTrust me, I know youâre exhausted. Weâre gonna be at my place soon though, okay? You just gotta hold tight for a little longer.â He pressed his forehead against yours, and met your gaze head on. âIâm going to keep you safe, I promise. I wonât let anything happen to you.â
An intruding shout echoed a little too closely down the street, engendering you to choke on your own heartbeat. Mingyu growled in irritancy, pivoting his head and glaring at the stranger who stepped from an alleyway. Rather than looking frightened (you were on the verge of sobbing bullets), Mingyuâs forehead crinkled angrily, the tiny scar that cut through his brow beginning to slant.
âStay put.â Mingyu commanded you.
There was a colder lining to his tone that youâd never heard before, malevolent and icy. As soon as his touch fell from your cheek, you knew his hands were about to tend to a much different matter. Your mind implored for you to look away, yet your heart waned for the exact opposite. The man was scraggly and a bit stockier than Mingyu, a mischievous intent welling in his movement as he seemed to dance back and forth like a hummingbird. He wore a smooth, white mask and a heavy brown coat that bore many unidentified stains, a long, curved blade in his hand.
âYouâre just a kid,â the man taunted, âitâs always the younger crowd that get so riled about the concept of murder, think theyâre all that, but they drop faster than flies when it comes down to it.â
Mingyu didnât waver. âYou should keep talking if you want that knife poking through the opposite side of your throat.â
You inhaled stiltedly. This was definitely not the same Mingyu who smiled with the power of a burning star, his mannerisms filling your chest with laughter and his golden eyes bathing your face with heat. You thought back to the library, the conversation that drawled behind you. This was the Mingyu they were talking about. You had a feeling that the innocent projections in your head were close to changing.
The man chuckled and pointed his knife, shaking it at Mingyu, âyouâve got the same cockiness as that rich China boyâs little clique. Iâm sure youâve heard about them. Theyâll be flocking to the streets any minute now.â
Mingyu spoke gutturally in response, the disgust and repulsion so thick in his voice you almost couldnât recognize it. âDonât you fucking dare compare me to him.â
The man chuckled darkly, âhit a nerve, did I?â
You werenât sure what happened next, mainly because it all happened so fast, a series of swift movements (on Mingyuâs behalf) that resulted in your pulse fizzling like hot oil. Ultimately you were going to be exposed to murder one way or another, though watching it reflect in the glassy curve of your own eyes left behind a deep scarring. The man lurched at Mingyu with his hefty blade slashing for the chest, most likely assuming that because of Mingyuâs height he would be quite slow and lack agility.
However, that was severely not the case, to the manâs dismay more than anyone elseâs. Within the span of sixty measly seconds Mingyu had tripped him onto his back, snatched the blade from his grip and wedged the knife directly into the manâs windpipe, exactly as he said he would do.
At that point you couldnât look away even if you wanted to. Mingyuâs breathing was level as he rose from the manâs waist, a burgundy pool of blood bubbling at the neck where the blade had punctured skin. Mingyu lifted his jacket, pulled the knife out, and attached the weapon through his belt. He spent an extra few moments patting the fresh corpse down until he uncovered a small revolver hidden in the inside pocket on the manâs coat. When Mingyu handed you the revolver in means of protection, you didnât realize you were shivering.
âNow,â he pronounced, âweâre going home.â
And at the time you believed him.Â
Until thirty minutes stretched into an hour, an hour into two hours, three hours, four hours. The chaos that was the purge had encompassed you both. This supposedly psychological device controlled you like a ventriloquist. Violence sneered at every turn and eventually an unspoken conclusion emerged; that it was easier to join chaos than it was to run from it. Later that night everything came full circle.Â
You were the one pointing the weapon, aiming the silver barrel into the face of the man who had broken in your home and abducted your mother last year, on account of stupid, petty crimes your father had committed in the past. Seconds before touching the trigger, all you could picture was his face swathed in moonlight, the horror that clawed in your stomach when you ran down from your room that night to see him yanking her out the smashed window.Â
And when you felt the release of the bullet, it became emboldened that it truly was a small, cruel world.
Present â
Squeezing one eye shut, you held the black gun with both hands and aimed the muzzle toward a tree stump that acted as your target, a cheek pressed into the taunt muscle of your shoulder as you inhaled a steadying breath. Delicate winds blew across the meadow, each strand of grass rippling in a hypnotic wave. The horizon lay beyond the tree trunk, a bleeding yellow sun submerging quietly behind the endless terrain, casting a honeyed glow to speckle like rain droplets upon your face.
There was not a single sound apart from the grassy fronds tickling against each other, your concentration solidifying to a mar in the tree bark. Then, your finger ghosted over the trigger, a sharp burst echoing into the pale yellow sky and causing a distant congregation of birds to take flight. The bullet struck the wood, right where you had envisioned the lead entering.
âLook at you,â the tension keyed into your bones drifted away, exiting your body in a shallow exhale once Mingyuâs prideful tone filled the spaces between the winds, âyour shot may be even better than mine now.â
After lowering the firearm to face the earth and switching the safety on, a demure smile danced across your lips. Mingyuâs arms were strong and looping carefully around your waist, hauling you back into the broad expanse of his chest. He buried his face into the smooth plane where your shoulder met your neck, his soft locks feathering along your jaw. You giggled the second his lips kissed your shoulder, evening sunlight spilling across the meadow and encouraging heat to caress your skin.
âThe student becomes the teacher,â you purred, âI even remembered to turn the safety on this time.â
âYouâre damn right you remembered to turn the safety on,â the boy quipped sternly, his palms gliding downward to grip your hips and spin you around, âyou almost took my kneecap off the last time.â
Furrowing your brows, you pursed your lip at him petulantly, âcan we stop talking about that? It was a mistake you big idiot.â
âI know, I know,â Mingyu cooed, âa very, very, very dangerous mistake.â
You rolled your eyes as he unwound the black firearm from your fingers. He walked toward his jacket that sat on the blanket youâd strewn across the grass, making sure to place it back inside the pocket.
âYou still need some more practice, but I think for today we can call it quits. How does that sound?â
The boy then fell back onto the blanket with his head titled to the side, his eyes staring up at you winsomely. With the sun flaring behind you, the vibrant streaks set the grass aflame, making it appear as though Mingyu was sitting in the centre of a fire. His skin twinkled like golden silk and his canines peaked between his lips in a smirk. Shrugging your shoulders impetuously, you stumbled toward the blanket and fell into the boyâs lap, squirming against his broad body until he became pinned beneath your weight. As though he were a glass vase, you gingerly swept your finger along his scarred brow.
âSounds fine,â you hummed, âsince I kinda wanna makeout with you right now.â
âI love how straightforward you are, baby.â Mingyu confessed with his intoxicated gaze drinking in your image, already imploring for a taste of the strawberry balm that defined the pretty arches of your mouth.
Unable to quell how your body yearned for him, you gave your eyes a toss and pressed your lips to his. Mingyu craned his neck forward in immediate desperation to feel more pressure against his mouth; however, he soon gave up his craning and allowed his elbows to give out beneath him. His hands snuck beneath your shirt, to which he placed soft squeezes against your ribcage, fingertips skimming lower and lower until they were running along the back hem of your shorts. You continued to straddle his waist as the kiss drawled further, rhythmically slow and sweet.
You didnât think it was humanly possible for your chest to be so encompassed with fondness, yet here you were, brushing your digits through Mingyuâs tresses, pressing your forehead to his, encasing his lower lip between your teeth to experimentally tug until the flesh swelled and glistened in garnet. You werenât really sure how you started dating, it just sort of happened. It was perhaps an escalation of lingering touches, infatuated glances, and hot, fever dreams that kept you both slamming awake at blue midnight.
After your first purge together, the connection between you strengthened, like welding two pieces of molten iron into one. It was an experience that ruined you, stripped you of any innocent fragments still clinging to your bone, and once the night came to an end and you were sitting on Mingyuâs bed with blood spatters sopped into your cloths, you burst into tears. Strangely, you werenât sobbing out of pain, mortification, you were sobbing because you could. It was the only accurate way to depict the weird melancholic, hopeless lump in your throat.
You squeaked as Mingyu grew impatient of your slow kisses. His want was increasing and he couldnât bear to hear the quiet mewls that kept slipping from your mouth. His strength effortlessly allowed him to flip you on your back, his mass keeping you slack against the blanket as his lips dotted your jaw, your earâs cusp, until he craved to taste more of the natural salt on your skin and his kisses ventured further down your throat.
Mingyu began suckling at a sensitive patch near your pulse. The warmth of his tongue combined with his teeth, and you felt him scrape his canines sharply against your skin. It wasnât until the boy nudged his thigh between your legs that your fingers lurched into his scalp, tugging the earth fronds tightly. You couldnât help but buck up against him, summoning a growl from his chest that only made him press his fangs into the soft skin with more force; not enough to actually break the petal-thin flesh, but enough to leave deep, possessive indentations. The ecstasy drumming in your veins was insatiable.
And yet, you knew it couldnât progress.
With a fragile whine you placed your hands against Mingyuâs chest and gave the giant a small push, his mouth regretfully detaching from the beautiful marks he was intent on leaving all over your body. He spoke coarsely, breathlessly, when his rosy face surfaced from your neck, though the glaze in his eyes had quickly softened out of fear heâd made you uncomfortable.
âWhatâs wrong? I wasnât being too rough, was I?â He gathered your hand in his and kissed along your knuckles apologetically.
âNo, not at all,â You mumbled, still dealing with the blare of crimson running through your veins, âI just⌠Donât think we should, do it, in a field.â
The hollow grooves in Mingyuâs features immediately flushed with solace, a large sigh escaping from his chest as he allowed his head to tumble into your shoulder.
âThank God, I thought I hurt you or something,â he heaved in relief.
Your heart sang wildly, knowing that he truly was a boy gentler than butterfly wings and softer than cotton. It was difficult to imagine him as the same boy who ruthlessly shoved a blade through a manâs windpipe, allowing thick trails of blood to slide from the open wound and create morbid puddles on the hard cement. The evening air seemed to turn cooler, the windâs peaceful lilting now picking up with more vigor. Mingyu collapsed at your side, one of his long legs still tossed over your waist as you stroked his hair.
With the sun halfway behind the horizon, you gulped whilst watching the yellow sky fade into watered, fierce shades of orange.
âMingyu?â You hummed.
âYeah?â His warm breath scattered in a ticklish manner against your neck.
âWhatâs going to happen with you and Junhui?â
Mingyu stiffened instantly. Nibbling on your lower lip, you watched with sincere eyes as the boy lifted into a sitting position. You joined him, closely monitoring the contours of his face that had surely twisted at the mention of the sinister purger. There was no room to blame Mingyu for harbouring such distaste toward the boy. Junhui did swoop in and steal his ex-girlfriend fresh after the breakup and run purge night like he invented the device himself.
Still, you wondered if there could be something more. If there could be a more profound explanation for why the air was so stale between them.
âNothing is going to happen,â Mingyu said flatly, âare you scared?â
Caught off guard by his sudden questioning, you stumbled over your syllables for a painful second, his gaze turning back to wrack you curiously.
âN-No, I was- I just- I was only wondering.â
âHeâs too obsessed with himself to care about me. Donât worry, okay? Nothing is going to happen, baby.â Mingyu said in a much lighter tone, his signature, canine smile quirking along his lips.Â
Despite his calm protrusions, you could sense that something murky was swimming behind the curve in his eyes. The boy leaned backward and planted his lips against your forehead, leaving a small, adoring kiss. Shaking away the ominous tension that came with simply speaking the purgerâs name, you grasped for Mingyuâs hand and smiled.
âLetâs head back into town.â
He set his jacket as well as the blanket in the backseat and climbed to sit at the wheel.
âDonât forget about that, yâknow,â you reminded him whilst gesturing to his jacket, âitâs not like thereâs a gun in there or something.â
âA gun with the safety on.â He replied sheepishly, to which you simply huffed and stared out the window.
You stopped Mingyu when you were no less than a block away from your new apartment building, the tires crunching to a halt beside the common coffee shop.
âIâll get out here,â you told him, âIâll be fine to walk back to the complex. I just really want caffeine.â
Mingyu leaned over and pushed the car door open for you, his palm tenderly grazing your thigh as he found your lips. He gave you a quick goodbye kiss, and you felt flowers bloom between the bones of your ribcage.
âText me when you get home, alright?â He reminded when you slid from the passenger seat.
Scurrying into the coffee shop, you already had an idea of what drink youâd like to get. As you stood off to the side waiting for an employee to call out your coffee, you fell into a slight trance, your eyes casting mistily across the cozy atmosphere whilst the sky began darkening beyond the clean window panes. You thought about Mingyu, how laughable it was that you were dating, and yet you knew you loved him like ink loves to kiss paper.
Hm, you chuckled inwardly, that girl sitting in that booth by the window, she looks like Yeeun, and that guy beside her really resembles Junhui. Thatâs funny.
Thatâs funny.
Thatâs⌠funnyâŚ
âOrder 24, half decaf, two sugars one cream.â
To your inexplicable terror, heart-twisting dread, and every other repulsive emotion that could have cloaked you in that moment of realization, the couple sitting at the window booth was indeed Junhui and Yeeun. The employee called out your order again, this time a little louder, drawing customers to look left and right with puzzled glances. The nefarious couple was sitting across from two familiar faces, one with jet black hair brushed away from his forehead, the other disquieting with how vacant his face appeared, a grey beanie pulling back the fronds from his porcelain features, and a lollipop shoved between his lips.
It took you a minute, but you eventually recognized the lollipop boy as Wonwoo. He looked insanely different compared to your outdated, high school memories, where he was just a scrawny, fox-faced boy with the straightest black bangs youâd ever seen, always running around next to Minghao, getting pink in the face when the younger so much as smiled at him. It was evident that purging had completely hardened his face, his aura, to which he developed an almost sinister light. Whoever he was now, he definitely wasnât the same boy. Jihoon sat next to him, impatiently spinning a stir stick between his fingers.
You didnât know why you werenât moving. Mingyuâs words rang in your head.
Are you scared?
Craving nothing more than for a sinkhole to form beneath your feet and swallow you whole, you did the sole thing your body permitted you to do; walk sternly out the coffee shop and pretend you never ordered a single thing.
God - I hope they didnât see me. That would be the last thing I want, for Junhui and his purging buddies to have anything to do with me.
Jihoon and Wonwoo with Junhui was odd. Had they always been friends? Junhui never attended your high school either, rather he used to be a student at a prestigious private school you couldnât ever dream of getting into.
Your apartment was close. You could distinguish its height amongst the low-cut buildings lining the sidewalk. If you just walked a little faster, you could be up the cement staircase, swinging open the glass doorway, and be safe within the front lobby. Titling your head back you quickly ogled at the sky. It wasnât completely black yet, but there were distant tinges of dark, oily colours that pressed down like a heavy thumbprint amongst the grey. The wind picked up behind you, slamming into your backside in menacing howls.
Finally, youâd reached the cement stepsâ
But it was too late.
His tone was smoother than a crystal ball, lower than baritone, and incredibly seasoned at feigning genuineness. Hearing your name cascade from his mouth that was deceivingly shaped as a heart made your breath flatten. You didnât want to turn around and face him, but it was too late to pretend you never heard his chant. Unwillingly, your body pivoted like a stone statue, your foot taking that one victorious step back as it left the staircase.
âYou walk so fast, you could have been sprinting.â
âExercise is good.â You nearly wheezed.
For the first time, you realized just how tall Junhui was, his body appearing as a shadowy mass as the wind blew the tails of his trench coat. His brows were slanted, lips quirked, his irises so rounded you could hardly see the white bits. He was handsome in the way that some people found graveyards entrancing. It was the eeriness that allured you.
âYou left your coffee.â He stated.
âI realized I had somewhere to be.â You tried to hold his gaze, but it was impossible to evade the nervous eye fluttering.
âAs anyone would, itâs getting late.â
The wind whistled between you, dark clouds swirling above your head as though the sky were a witchâs cauldron.
âI think it might rain,â you said meekly, âare you looking to ask me something?â
Junhui took a step forward. Heâd never been this close to you before, maybe a few inches away from the tip of your nose. Your gaze tripped to his eye, the eye that Mingyu had driven his clenched fist into that one night, causing Junhuiâs head to thrust back against the plaster. You swallowed the salty brick in your throat.
âI heard you like to purge now.â Junhui said with a smile. You swore his caramel gaze glinted with excitement.
Your blood froze. How did he know about that? Junhui saw through you like a translucent piece of plastic. He saw how you inwardly panicked.
âI was surprised,â he cooed, âyou donât seem like the type⌠But I suppose all that running around with Mingyu changed your morals.â
Your heart was beating at such a frantic pace you feared it may dislodge itself from your chest and land in your mouth.
âIâm so elated you found purpose,â his midnight fronds then fell mischievously before his eyes, keeping the candor of his secrets hidden from you, âthe purge is a time of cleansing intended to help people like us find a little alleviation in the world. That one person whose been causing you grief? You wonât have to worry about their disgusting discrepancy that makes you so infuriated. Itâs quite healing,â Junhui purred, âif you ask me.â
It felt as though someone just ripped your tongue from between your teeth. You couldnât speak even if you wanted to. A splash of rain thumped your forehead, and yet you allowed the cold bead to trickle along the side of your nose and run onto your cheek. Junhuiâs hand delicately raised, his thumb caressing the droplet away. He stood closer now, eliminating any room in which the wind could whisper through, his bangs tickling your forehead as his onyx pupils bore through your heated face.
âYouâre so beautiful,â he murmured, looking toward your lips through his heavy lashes, his fingers pointing your chin upward, âI wouldnât want you to get hurt just because Mingyu canât take care of you.â
âI-I trust him,â You managed to squeak, though it required every bone in your body to summon equal modicums of courage.
âCâmon,â Junhui seemed to taunt, âyou know who I am, right? I can have any weapon, any blueprint, any ctv footage I want directly in my hands, and all it takes is a single phone call.â He grinned wolfishly. âBesides, Mingyu doesnât have the most durable history of looking out for others.â
His grip on your chin hardened like steel, heart-shaped lips pressed lightly to your earâs cusp, âyou do know what happened to Minghao, donât you?â
Your body turned more frigid than ice, the warm blood that pumped beneath your skin running colder with every second that Junhui stood, seeing straight through you and to his old friend heâd hurt so dearly. You instantly grew sick to your stomach. The universe beyond Junhuiâs shadow was spinning wildly, darting in nauseating circles like a carousel. The images came in flickers; the truck pulling into the driveway, the window cranking down, the crack of the gun as its bullet pierced a shape in the darkness. No wonder Jihoon and Wonwoo were friends with Junhui. He had been the other person in Mingyuâs car.
You felt lightheaded, like you were going to faint.
âIâll let you go, but just consider your options. Really, truly consider them.â Junhui murmured. âIâm sure you have some personal contentions kept covert beneath that kind tongue of yours. Given your participation, I know you can upheaval your need to feel purification. If youâre wise, youâll cleanse with us, with me, as you are entitled to.â
Without a single ripple Junhui broke away, his touch drifting like the edges of a silk blanket from your cheek. Immediately afterward, a disturbing burst of wind whipped between your bodies, inducing a long shiver that crept down your spine and fizzled at your fingertips. Your throat felt like cracked sandpaper and your chest bottomed out with a horrendous, wrenching fear.
Junhui knew that Mingyu didnât fear him, but he knew that you feared him, and he knew that your fear would grow to consume you now that youâd been introduced to the devastating truth.Â
The radio was on, high-pitched static and monotonous advisement rasping through the carâs sound system. It was clear that in time, there would be a chorus of other harsh noises leaping to fill the sky, any pockets of oxygen, and the spaces that lingered between your hazy breathing. Yet in the dense heat, you could care less.
This is your emergency broadcast system announcing the commencement of The Annual Purge, sanctioned by the government.
It was hot, burning. The air felt like scorching linen that pressed fire into your skin. Mingyuâs teeth scraped along your collarbones, the thin layer of flesh that mapped over them singed with bruises and bites and kisses that still glistened.
Weapons of Class 4 and lower have been authorized for use during the Purge. All other weapons are restricted.
The radio continued to blip. Your fingers tangled through his earth-toned tresses, gripping the thick strands and tugging on them as your throat started to ache. The windows were splotched with oily fingerprints that had been left earlier, when you first climbed onto his lap.
Government officials of ranking 10 have been granted immunity from the Purge and shall not be harmed.
Your legs quivered over his thighs, his hands guiding your hips with such a brute strength that the pain welled into numbness and everything that surrounded you seemed nonexistent, save for where your bodies connected like a jewel to its staff. His forehead fell on your shoulder, groans muffled as they brushed your hot skin. He continued to hit deep, and you knew you couldnât hold on for much longer, the sparks catching a foreshadowing flameÂ
Commencing at the siren, any and all crime, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours.
It was then, when your weight came down on his lap for the final time, his hips stuttering upward at the perfect moment, that your head tossed back and you felt the energy rip from your body in a single scream. Mingyu wrapped his arms around your waist, keeping you flush against him, working the pleasure for all its worth. You then buried your face into his neck, a soft sea of your whimpers filling the thick air whilst Mingyu emptied inside you, filling you with warmth.
Police, fire and emergency medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning at 7am, when the Purge concludes.
For a moment, you just needed to close your eyes and breathe in his scent, hear his heartbeat, feel the familiar heat spread throughout your abdomen. He squeezed your hips tight, and his words were barely audible, attempting to drown over the radioâs static as well as the heavy breaths from your lungs. You heard them, even if your ears really had to strain to decipher the syllables whispered at the peak of his sensitivity. Mingyu said he loved you, and he meant it with every ounce of his soul as he felt your body shake in his arms.
Blessed be our New Founding Fathers and a nation, reborn.
And you would have meekly hummed the words in return, if the sudden cacophony of a siren didnât shred the air like pastry, startling your system that had just come down from the best cloud nine experience you could ever fathom. It would have been wondrous to bask in the afterglow, to trace patterns on his biceps and run your lips over the scar in his brow. It had all been purloined from you in an instant. Though your centre still ached, you crept off his lap and into the passenger seat, cleaning yourself up as best you could.
âHere,â Mingyu held out his jacket that heâd tossed in the backseat, probably since your training in the fields, âitâll keep you warm if it actually rains tonight.â
âThanks.â You murmured whilst slipping the fabric around your body, noting that something a little heavy was inside one of the pockets. You remembered the gun was still inside. Suddenly, Mingyu started the car, the engine purring lowly and musty clouds of exhaust puffing into the empty parking lot.
He tapped the steering wheel with his palm, âwhere should we head?â
When the sirens faded away, you looked to him and smiled, âwherever you want.â
The red sun seemed anxious to disappear, for its rays cracked across the sky like bloodied, broken ice, hurriedly pushing itself further below the horizon as Mingyu drove into town. The Purge never introduced an easy atmosphere to stomach, yet tonight, you felt the bile in your throat was more acidic than usual. Maybe it was because you knew a huge secret, one that tied Mingyuâs hatred to Junhuiâs existence.
You didnât confess to Mingyu anything. Every word that seeped like a venom from Junhuiâs lips was sealed within you, and only you. It was already painful enough for Mingyu to brace through such a traumatic incident. There would come a time when he told you his reasons for hating Junhui, and that time had yet to come.
Even so, the terror was exhausting. The first few nights after your encounter with Junhui, your slumber was plagued by gruesome nightmares, his comfortable laughter, and the black fire that seeped in his eyes as though he were some underworld creature. Youâd slam awake in a cold sweat. At times youâd be so drenched that you needed to take a shower before going back to sleep, that is, if your mind allowed you to. Sometimes you would phone Mingyu and lie to him, tell him you needed to hear the brass in his voice as your nighttime spell.
You never told him about the nightmares, the panic, or the anxiety. Now the Purge had returned after its position was quelled in the nation for a year. Your head turned to glance more thoroughly out the window after you flitted past a man holding an axe tool, a painted mask shielding his face.
It didnât take long for the streets to begin flooding with people of the same stature, and if their eyes of thirst were hidden behind costumes, then it became more than evident in the weaponry that adorned their guises. Mingyu seemed calm as he stared out the dash, his eyes giving away nothing that would hint toward his inner complex. You sighed and let your cheek rest in your palm, your gaze unable to stop tracing each and every person that emerged from the dark crevices.
About forty-five minutes had passed, driving around the quieter outskirts of the city. Looking into the side-mirror, you watched as the occasional killing occurred behind you.
Mingyu smiled. âThe night just started and you already look like youâre over it.â
The echo of a gun pierced the air. You cringed slightly.
âI donât know if Iâm over it or not. I guess Iâm thinking about how Iâll ever suppress witnessing senseless murder, yâknow?â
The boy gently stuck his arm out, across the glove compartment, his thumb stroking your cheek for a fond moment.
âWe donât have to hang around. I can drive up to the field where weâll be away from the worst of it. What do you want, baby?â He asked.
You scratched at your knuckles and puffed through your nose. âI donât even know what I want. Am I supposed to feel this way?â
Mingyu raised an eyebrow, âwhat way?â
âMelancholic, sorta like everything seems pointless. How do you feel?â
Mingyu took a wide turn to avoid a collection of smashed bottles that glinted on the road, increasing the vehicleâs speed steadily as the chaos increased. Like your first Purge, you saw the distant glow of burning buildings appear across the lake, at the other side of the city.
âI donât even know if I can describe it anymore.â He shrugged.
You turned your head to look at him, deciding to ask something rather abrupt, but a topic you were curious on nonetheless.Â
âWhy did you start purging?â
The boyâs canines pushed into his bottom lip as he probed his mind.
âBecause I was friends with someone who wanted to. Even involving yourself once makes enemies. You canât hide from it after that.âÂ
Staring at the side of his face, you felt almost dirty for knowing a pivotal piece belonging to Mingyuâs past.
âWere you friends with Junhui?â
There was a thick silence as you waited for Mingyuâs response.
âAt one point, yes.â He admitted, his words sounding distasteful.Â
You shifted up in the seat, stretching out your hand to rub Mingyuâs bicep.Â
âI donât care if you were. I know you arenât the same as him, and that this night changes people. You donât let it consume you like he does.â
Mingyu took a turn through a wide alleyway to avoid a hostile situation escalating at the far end of the intersection. You didnât get a good look as the sky was continuing to lose its orange light, but the flash of the groupâs masks and weapons was convincing enough to take a different path.
You couldnât help but note that Mingyuâs eyes had become slightly watered.
âIt was never about purification,â he told you, âI never had any specific target, or someone I detested. Neither did Jun. But he comes from a family that relies on purging as their income. His mom designs weapons and his dad works for some underground branch, assigning bounties. He just isnât the same as us. I was lucky if I could even hold a gun in my hands without trembling. I had to learn how to desensitize myself. For Jun, it was almost natural.â
A familiar sickness made your stomach twirl.
âItâs sad he had to grow up like that.â You sighed, glancing out the window whilst Mingyu remained silent.Â
A few minutes later, and you were laughing. âI didnât mean to make the mood so terrible. I was just wondering.â
âI know,â Mingyu said, his lips curling warmly, âI canât blame you for being curious, baby. I just donât think back on my past all that much.â
He then gave you a thoughtful look, and your chest started fluttering embarrassingly fast. âI like focusing on right now, where I have you.â
It was quiet again, to which you let your thoughts roam astray.Â
You pictured the night your father disappeared, the night your motherâs life was taken away from her when she wasnât even capable of defending herself. The feeling of coming down the stairway to broken glass, spilt moonlight, and a dirtied face lugging her away couldnât be compared to any pain. And daring to unlock that enraged, bitter half of yourself, you thought to applying pressure on the trigger that killed the man responsible for her death.
Those memories influenced your appreciation, your gratitude, toward Mingyu, the boy who you had always admired at a distance, never knowing he could be so tender and benevolent. It was possible that you could have turned out similar to Junhui if you let your indignation take control. Seeing how Mingyu always remained so grounded helped you keep your footing, and you hoped there never came a day when you started looking at the world how Junhui did.
All of sudden, your musing was shattered when a pick-up truck roared from an alleyway and soared into the street, plumes of grey smoke pumping from its pipes as the tires screeched against the asphalt.
âMingyu, watch out!â You screeched, gripping the steering wheel.
At the same time, Mingyu veered away from the truck, your heart nearly tearing a hole right through your chest as the head of your vehicle rammed into a light post. The collision jolted your body forward, though the seatbelt kept you strapped in and unscathed. Mingyu cursed through his teeth.
âFuck, are you okay?â He rasped.
âI-Iâm fine. Letâs just get the hell out of here.â You replied shakily.
Mingyuâs facial expression relaxed for less than a second. He appeared ready to oblige, though casting another inspection into his features relayed a nauseating truth. Suddenly, Mingyuâs hand gripped the back of your neck and he forced your head down between your legs. You heard it, the crisp echo of a gunshot. Except there was no bullet that punctured the glass and made fragments rain over your body. There was no dent in the metal door either. The barrel was purposely aimed to a different area, and as the second shot fired off, you felt like passing out.
Theyâre shooting at the tires.
Mingyu whispered to you with a coarse urgency, âthis way!â
Heâd managed to open his door, your only choice of escape a labyrinth of alleyways that lay beyond the mangled car. The alleys were dark, damp, and most likely rife with impending danger. Your throat closed in when you attempted to swallow. You could see the blade that Mingyu had collected from the console, already tight in his hand. Licking your leathered lips, you squirmed out his side after heâd gone through. He was squatted down, waiting for you.
Just as you joined him, you cast a glance above Mingyuâs head, your blood turning into ice as a slim figure appeared around the back end of the car. It was a man, dressed in a black raincoat, long and glossy. He was wearing a dirtied, white mask, where kohl paint was runny down the large eyes and the mouth was outlined in a red marker. Next to his side was the long barrel of a shotgun, and you felt unimaginably dizzy. Mingyu immediately identified the terror that leaked into your gaze, and with a thick gulp, he dared stare over his shoulder.
âHey Mingyu,â the stranger mumbled, taking the pointed chin of the mask and tipping it upward, revealing a fox-like face, âlong time no see.â
Mingyu wrapped his fingers around your hand and stood up slowly, ensuring your body was sheltered by his size. You breathed as quietly as your vandalized chest would allow, your diaphragm keening to erupt.Â
âWonwoo?â Mingyu echoed, âI havenât seen you in ages!â
âDidnât mean to scare you or anything.â The boy said, his voice very deep and smooth. The depth reverberated in your chest and made your skin crawl.
âAre you crazy, dude?â Mingyu growled. âYou shot out my fucking tires.â
Wonwoo scratched the nape of his neck. âI was just following orders.â
You had no idea what was happening. The only piece of concrete knowledge that hadnât been fogged over in tangible fear was that you could still hear incessant firing in the distant, chaotic screaming and rioting. Looking down to the blade that glinted in Mingyuâs palm, you were able to plant a little reassurance in yourself knowing of his skill and ability to stay grounded. Keeping your mouth shut, you held Mingyuâs hand in a vice grip.
âFollowing orders from who? What are you talking about? Are you wired?â
âItâs understandable you would think that,â Wonwoo sighed, âbut Iâm not. If I were though, your death might be a little easier.â
âSince when are you supposed to kill me?â Mingyu sounded flat out bewildered.
It was then that it dawned on you: Mingyu really had no idea Wonwoo was still a part of Junhuiâs brigade.Â
Grinding your teeth together in contemplation, you finally decided to swallow the grain in your throat and break the truth. Getting close to Mingyuâs ear, you whispered to him what you knew, no matter how much of a fable it may be perceived as. Visibly, his body stiffened. His fingers gripped the bladeâs handle with an unprecedented rage.Â
âWhat are you doing?â Mingyu implored, candor in his despair. âEven after what he did to Minghao? What the hell is holding you to him?â
âItâs nothing personal, but as you know already, Junhui is filthy rich,â Wonwoo gloomed, cocking the barrel once more, âand heâs promised me some things.â
Mingyu clenched his jaw. âYou mean more of those drugs he keeps stealing from his dadâs lab? Wonwoo, what the fuck happened to you? The last time I heard from you, you were getting clean, you were going to start fresh!â
There was an unorthodox twinkle in his black stare, oddly full of emotion, hurt, repressed pain that cut deeper inside than out.Â
âI tried,â Wonwoo stated, a slight anger tainting his voice, âI went to three different rehabilitation clinics. I took a vacation to the rural springs and received lessons in guided meditation and bought myself a journal so I could document my success in getting clean. And you know what? I havenât touched that journal since the day I fucking bought it. Tell me, Mingyu. How the fuck am I supposed to care about staying clean, how the fuck am I supposed to care about anything when I saw the love of my life get fucking shot right in front of me?â
Mingyu shook his head in disbelief, âWonwoo, I--, I know that was horrible, I know that hurt you and--â
âJust shut up,â the elder interrupted flatly, âmaybe today Iâll actually feel something when I put this barrel between your eyes.â
It was impossible to stand by and remain silent. Chewing on your bottom lip, you gathered a modicum of courage and poked your head around Mingyuâs shoulder.
âSo youâre going to kill us just because Junhui wants you to? Thatâs how youâre going to live the rest of your life? Listening to his psychotic fantasies about purification and entitlement?â
Wonwoo narrowed his eyes at you, his jaw taunt.
âI know you loved Minghao, I know your life hasnât felt the same since. Minghao was Mingyuâs best friend too. You werenât the only one who lost somebody. Do you think when I came downstairs at fourteen years old and saw my mother get pulled away through the window that I wasnât upset, angry, confused at the world? Junhui just sees you as a pawn to delegate the matters he doesnât want to dip his hands into, but youâre a real person. Wake up and act like it!â
For even just a fraction of a second, Wonwooâs shoulders slumped, his finger that was feathering the gunâs trigger drifted from contact, and the stoic cloud in his eyes fuzzed a little. You were starting to feel confident. Yet just as easily as the feeling came to you, you were caught off guard by an arm that slid around your neck and lurched you backward, against a hard chest.
Mingyu barked immediately, his blade drawn and eyes wildly dilated as he turned to face the person responsible for holding onto you. Biting the inside of your mouth, you squirmed and thrashed and kicked, until something cold pressed into your temple and suddenly the energy evaporated from your body like dew droplets on an August day.Â
Mingyuâs voice sounded rusty as he gaped again. âJihoon?!â
Wonwoo piped up suddenly, and his eyes turned cold once more. âBe careful, dammit. Sheâs the one we canât afford to bruise up.â
Jihoonâs arm was now wrapped around your neck, pressing against your windpipe and causing your air supply to falter. You knew it was a gun that was poking sharply into your temple.Â
Mingyuâs gaze was wild and rife with fire. He growled between his teeth like a wolf. âDonât even fucking think about it, Jihoon.â
Wonwoo stepped forward and shook his gun at the boy who was closing off on your breathing. âJunhui wants that one,â he pressed the snout of his weapon into your chin, âalive.â
Jihoon sulked, his voice rumbling in his chest, âSo whatâs our fun tonight? We kill Mingyu and then pack up?â
You wriggled again in Jihoonâs arms, tempted to gnaw right into his wrist. âCan we not kill anybody?!â
âCalm down,â Wonwoo instructed, âI hate shouting. If any of you shout Iâm planting a bullet in your brain.â
âYouâre such a bore,â Jihoon whined, pressing into your windpipe with more force, painting speckles of white across your vision. Mingyu was bubbling with rage, like a teapot left on the burner for too long, his teeth clamping down so tightly his whole face was aching.
Wonwoo used the muzzle of the gun to tip your chin toward the moonlight. âA word of advice. Stop struggling and you wonât get hurt.â
âH-Heâs hurting me,â you attempted to coherently spit past the pressure concocted against your throat. Jihoon was issuing enough force to make your eyes water and your head spin. Mingyu piped up, but Wonwoo was swifter and beat him to it.
âLighten your grip.â He told Jihoon.
âIâm not even holding her that tightly!â The boy protested. Wonwooâs face didnât crack. He just repeated himself with an underlying menace.
âLighten. Your. Grip.â
âItâs all pretending! Canât you see? Theyâre trying to distract you so Mingyu can shove that blade through your back. Donât be so fucking soft, Wonwoo. Look! Iâm hardly touchingââ
Bang.
Wonwoo dug his gun right into Jihoonâs forehead and pulled the trigger, the strict barrier against your throat immediately releasing. A fresh gulp of air hastily entered your lungs as you stumbled, Jihoonâs body folding onto the sidewalk from the corner of you eye. Mingyu quickly caught you, cupped your face in his hands and wiped the beaded sweat at your forehead. He kept whispering to you that you were okay, repeated the words in a soothing, husky mantra, his thumbs stroking your jaw in comforting sweeps. The ringing in your ears was unfathomably painful, it stung and stung and stung.
âWell,â Wonwoo announced with a despondent sigh, setting the gun over his shoulder, âI really do hate yelling.â
Mingyuâs kissed your forehead briefly. Your lips were still dry and they struggled to form a word of thanks to Wonwoo. The boy shrugged.
âHe was holding you kind of tightly.â
Mingyu gasped, âno fucking kidding.â
Wonwoo sighed. âI guess I donât expect to live much longer now that Iâve gone and wasted my companion here with my last few bullets. Not to mention I have prolonged the existence of your life, Mingyu, which I was strictly ordered not to do. It was nice to meet your little partner in crime too.â
âWhat are you talking about?â Mingyu questioned whilst gathering you into his side.
âI didnât follow through on my order. I canât bring myself to do it. â Wonwoo mumbled. âWeâll catch up in the afterlife or something. Maybe where youâre going is different than where Iâm about to go. Youâll probably be with Minghao while I deservedly rot. One of lifeâs many mysteries, right?â
There wasnât much of an opportunity to process the situation, not when a gunshot echoed from down the alleyway and pierced the boy in his temple. The shotgun clamped in his hand clattered against the cold, concrete sidewalk, and his mask clattered off his head. His body joined the likes of Jihoon whoâd been staring up at the night sky with dead, glazed eyes, a trail of red leaking down his nose. Your head pivoted and you felt a surge of vomit climb to the back of your mouth, for the person behind the trigger was Yang Yeeun, her pearl earrings flashing against the silver moonlight.
âHorrendous.â Her accent was thick with venom, heels clicking down the alleyway as she stalked in her black trousers and white dress shirt.
Intimidation sweltered against your skin at just her attire. The fact she dressed expensively for the night proved she wasnât expecting to get in any confrontation that would result in her own blood being spilt.
âI expected Jihoon to cause trouble, but not Wonwoo. He was so promising. I guess he really did need drugs to stay sane.â
She stepped over a corpse you hadnât noted lying face down in the alley, growling between her teeth.
âFilthy,â Yeeun remarked without a grain of empathy, ânothing but filth.â
Mingyu gripped your wrist and you felt your body stumble behind him. Keeping your arms drawn against his back and softly breathing, you inhaled the musky scents of damp, nighttime air and car exhaust. Though you couldnât directly see Yeeun, her voice was still audible, lacquered in such a feigned delicacy it reminded you of Junhui. Mingyu hadnât said a thing. He didnât have to speak for you to know his heart was decaying.
âThereâs my sweet boy.â Yeeun cooed. She was close now, so close you peered between Mingyuâs legs and saw her shiny heels standing in blood spatters.Â
She regarded Mingyu like they were still together, like they still reflected the image of romance that was envied by so many people, you included. Her arm extended, pale, numb fingers brushing along his amber cheek. You wanted to scream at her to never touch him again. It was her own mistake to let Mingyu go, when he was positively in love with her and preached their future with honeyed words, like an artist who preaches with paint.
âYou know, I miss you,â she hummed, tracing the flint of his jaw, âIâm so terribly sorry you had to witness your old best friends get a bullet to the brain, but, that is what happens when tensions are high, and, you know, we canât afford to let many errors slip past us. Now, letâs not let that put a damper on the night. Itâs still young, and so much has yet to happen. How about you come with me?â
You knew there was a handgun she was keeping pressed to her leg right now, and that if neither of you complied, it would be put to good use. Mingyu hadnât opened his mouth. His lips were tight and his eyes were concentrated. Maybe he was trying to scheme.
Yeeun stretched out her gun and let the muzzle clink with Mingyuâs knife, trying to push the weapon from his hand.
âJust drop this and follow me, sweetheart. Due to these unforeseen events, thereâs been a change and your presence has been urgently requested.â
Quicker than expected, Mingyu complied. He let the blade untwine from his grasp and rattle against the ground. If he did have some sort of plan, you were hoping that giving up his only weapon was part of it.
âShe can come too,â Yeeun purred, âJunhui wants to see both of you.â
Yeeun trudged behind you, her weapon drawn, a manicured nail feathering upon the trigger just in case one of you attempted something of trickery. Tall, grimy buildings surrounded you, leading up to the black sky, where the stars gazed down in lamentation. Mingyuâs fingers were wrapped around your wrist with such steely strength that you felt your circulation dwindle, though the tiny, tingling feeling would never surpass the fear that sat like a pound of tar in your stomach. Similar to your first purge, tears pushed at your ducts, though there was a certain exhaustion shrouding your body that prevented them from falling.
Despite your unstable condition, the possibility of death snickering right in your face, the wavering thought that either Junhui or Yeeun could imbue a torturous fate, you were worried about Mingyu.
Yeeun was playing him expertly. She knew it wasnât her heart that cracked after their breakup, it was Mingyu that suffered independently. ��Only he bit the nail, only he felt the salt mix with his wounds, and only he would welt in self-contemplation over a love that he nurtured, alone. If it came down to it, and your life was on the line, would Mingyu hesitate? Would he be afraid of hurting someone he used to treasure so dearly? You didnât doubt his affections for you. His heart was strong, but what if Yeeunâs deceit was stronger?
The labyrinth of alleyways had finally led you to a dead end. Your wrist shook in Mingyuâs grasp, for the man nonchalantly leaning against the solid wall was none other thanâ
âJunhui,â Yeeun cawed, âyou wonât believe what the fuck just happened. Wonwoo popped Jihoon. Heâs dead, should have brought more crew instead of displacing them like we did.â
She finished her sentence by fitting her gun right snug at the back of your head.
Junhui spat onto the floor before he unstuck himself from leaning against the wall, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his dark trench coat. Â
âIt doesnât matter,â he dismissed, âusing Wonwoo and Jihoon was a squander anyways. I could have concluded both their lives at a much more efficient pace. Iâm guessing you took care of the traitor?â
Yeeun cackled, âright though the side of his head. He fell like a stack of cards.â
âItâs a real disappointment,â Junhui huffed, âsince the beginning Wonwoo and Jihoon have shown the utmost loyalty for me and my craft. But, I guess this just demonstrates how purifying this device truly is. Weâre ridding the streets of scum, arenât we?â
Mingyu released your wrist, and you felt like a bomb had just dropped to the soles of your feet. His lips parted and his voice was deep. Hearing him speak allowed your heartbeat to calm, even with Yeeunâs gun taunt into your hair.
âThe streets will never be rid of scum until youâre over and done with.â
Junhui cocked his head, his mouth falling open and his eyes twinkling as though a tiny flame had ignited in their inky depths.
âAnd here is the biggest traitor of them all!âÂ
Junhui tossed his head back and ludic laughter echoed into the compressing air, âhow do you suppose youâll rid me, Mingyu? Are you going to give me another black eye? Curse at me? Damn me to hell and back because of what happened that night? Damn me behind my back because I took Yeeun away from you? The girl you once loved and valued with your every essence?â
It was then that Junhui shifted his sights on you, his lips pulling wide in a smile.
âIâm not sure if youâre aware Mingyu, but your partner and I exchanged a very compelling conversation a while ago. I guess word never got around to you.â
Junhuiâs boots dragged over the crumbs of dirt and asphalt that littered the ground, his presence nearing closer and closer. When you tried to lower your head, Yeeunâs gun pressed with a stricter force into your scalp, filling you with enough fear to keep your gaze straight.
âYouâre very fortunate, Mingyu. To have such a pretty thing to call your own.â
Junhuiâs hand reached for your chin. His touch was colder than the dark shadows that masked his soul, and it engendered a shiver to slither along your spine.Â
âDonât put your hands anywhere near her!â Mingyu seethed, to which Yeeun instantly switched her gun to point against the back of his skull.
You could see his jaw clench from your peripheral vision. But Junhui didnât listen, and his thumb pushed down on your bottom lip as though he intended to brand your skin with his insanity. He spoke lowly, smoothly, confidence lathered into his every syllable.
âDo you know why I did it?â Junhui stared into your eyes and asked.
âDd-did w-what?â You warbled.
âIt wasnât because I was jealous of Wonwoo and Minghao, or because I had some personal contention against the boy. I didnât even think when I pressed the trigger. I spent the whole night adding so much blood to my hands, that the moment I saw another shadow move, my body just - it just acted for me. Like it was an instinct. I wasnât sad... But I wasnât happy. I only knew I was no longer myself... I was someone stronger, someone enhanced, and that is the greatness of this evening!â
Junhui clutched your shoulders and shook them, his eyes alight with a certain derangement that petrified you to your core.
âYouâre reborn! Donât you get it? Youâre no longer tied down by the concept of goodness, and your free will is truly free. When will you two realize that--â
Out of nowhere, Mingyu shoved into your side so aggressively you stumbled sideways and collapsed on the sooty ground. The air was knocked from your lungs and your heart pumped like it had been electrocuted. Fuzzy splotches of colour coalesced before your watered vision, projecting nothing but an obnoxious blur. There was shouting, the loud crack of a harmless gunshot, and scuffling that emanated from every direction. Before you could separate the blacks from the blues, something cold wrapped around your wrist and dragged you backward. Then, your entire body was thrust up against the brick, scrapes and bruises already forming on your bare skin.
When your head stopped spinning and the world dulled down from reflecting three versions of the same image, you were shuttering, whimpering, as Junhui held you firmly against the wall.
Across the alleyway you could see that Mingyu had Yeeun pressed to the floor, his palm covering her throat whilst he took advantage of his weight to keep her slim frame still. He fought to unwind the firearm from her fingers, but when he did, the weapon was digging into her forehead. You wanted to scream at him to pull the trigger, to fucking end her already, even if your throat felt like it had been scraped of all moisture and scrubbed with a pad of steel wool. You heard Junhui snicker, his mouth twisted cynically. It was evident what he was thinking, for it was identical to your own thought.
âLike hell youâll do it!â Junhui screamed.
If it came down to it, and your life was on the line, would Mingyu hesitate?
Love. It was just as much a weapon as it was a comfort. And as Mingyu stared down at Yeeun, silver pearls of water slipping from her brown eyes, the eyes he had fallen for, you felt consumed by terror, that your life may truly end at this exact location. Mingyu proved your doubts were transparent and his finger jammed against the trigger. Except â there was nothing, nothing at all. The gun had no ammunition left. Yeeun sighed heavily.
âDonât do this,â she mewled, still wriggling beneath him, full-fledged tears pumping down her flushed, scarlet face, âI never meant to hurt you. Itâs just â you wouldnât understand why â he didnât leave me any choice!â
Mingyu released his ironclad grip over her throat and used his fingers to sweep the stray hairs from her eyes.
âShut your fucking mouth.â He abruptly snapped. âYou lie through your teeth like itâs the only thing youâre good for. You donât love anyone or anything. I bet you lost that silver spoon you were born with, huh? Daddyâs security systems arenât as bulletproof as he thought they were? So you had to run to Junhui?â
She gargled slightly on her own saliva, coughing a bit of foam, though she never tried to respond.
Mingyu lifted Yeeunâs head in his hands. Squeezing your eyes shut didnât make the snapping noise any less gruesome. If anything, it only amplified the sickness building in your gut, it only amplified Junhuiâs enraged storm of cursing as his companionâs body went limp, her eyes stained with not even a smidgen of regret. If there was any regret at all, it was that she couldnât have killed you herself. Hope began trickling back into your body, and, taking advantage of Junhuiâs distracted vacancy, you attempted to give him a swift kick.
And yet that thought was a mistake in itself. Junhui lost his composure, his sophistication.
Your struggling only encouraged the anger spilling inside him, prompted him to uncover a blade that was hidden inside his coat, its silver gleam reflecting off your eyes for a millisecond before you felt its sharp edge nuzzle into your skin, somewhere around your stomach. A surge so violent and unbridled soared through your body, forced you to lean over the blade where your eyes soaked up the unholy sight of Junhuiâs knuckles pale as snowflakes wrapped around the handle. You spluttered out nothing but air, watched as dark liquid began seeping from the wound and wetting your shirt.
Junhui took it upon himself to slowly, ever so slowly, extract the knife from its crevice, his teeth grinding together as just the point remained in your flesh. Then, he dug the blade back in through its opening, giving the weapon a slight twist.Â
When Mingyu had risen from Yeeunâs corpse and tore Junhui away from you, a silent sob wobbled off your lips. At some point that your mind was too fogged to remember, you were sitting, slumped against the wall as thick, grey storm clouds crowded the night sky. When you could no longer find solace amongst the stars, your gaze flitted across the alleyway, to where Junhui and Mingyu were a vicious tangle of limbs that punched and kicked and pulled. It reminded you of the party, the stupid party that had somehow preluded your path to cross with Mingyuâs. They were shouting at one another, at war for Junhuiâs knife that kept slipping from their grasps like butter.
Wincing, you stretched an arm to fold over your stomach, attempting to apply even the meekest amount of pressure to your wound. Your brow furrowed when something hard nudged against your arm, a harsh weight that seemed to sit inside your jacket.
Well, it wasnât your jacket, it was Mingyuâs.
Chewing down on the inside of your mouth, you ignored the pain that cut through your every nerve and fought to wind your hand within the jacket, fingers poking and shuffling around until they brushed the pocket stitched to the inside. Despite your battered condition, you nearly yelped when you gripped the handgun, the same gun that youâd used to practice your aim in the fields. There was not a moment to squander, nor a moment to think. Your whole body screamed as you drew the weapon from its pouch, fingers slippery with blood as you fought to turn the safety off.
Your entire arm shook like a brittle leaf in mid-autumn, yet you still held the gun forth, your head banging, your vision blurred, bile pushing and stinging against your throat. Junhui had Mingyu pinned to the grit, his boot heavy on Mingyuâs wrist. Raised in the air was the knife, stained with red globs of your blood. It was just like the party, except it wasnât a tiny glass shard sealed between Junhuiâs fingers. It was a literal hacking device. There was nothing you could do to stop your arm from shaking. You had no more ammunition apart from the bullet left in the gun.
What if I miss, what if I miss Junhui and hit Mingyu? What if I hit Junhui but it isnât enough to stop him? I donât think I can do this. I canât I canât I canâtâ
âSo,â Junhui barked, his vocal chords strained and hoarse, âwhereâs your little guardian angel now, huh? If it werenât for your girlfriend fucking getting in the way two years ago, you would have had it, Mingyu. But now thereâs no one to save you. You donât know how long Iâve been waiting for this moment. Finally, Iâm entitled to purge how Iâve always wanted.â
The tears finally erupted from their ducts, streaming down your dusted cheeks and dripping at your chin. You felt like a child, a blubbering infant.
But it wasnât worth it to lose Mingyu.
You werenât entirely sure what happened when you sucked back the distracting binds of your self-doubt and clamped the trigger down. It didnât register that the bullet had struck Junhuiâs head until his body collapsed off of Mingyuâs lap, lying lax on the pebbles like a sack of flour. It didnât register that you had saved Mingyuâs life until the first few cold splashes of rain thumped against your forehead, dampened your lashes, and trickled along your scuffed flesh. The gun dropped from your fingers and the whole world went black.
The next time you awoke, you were faced with a pair of glimmering, penny eyes that rapidly blinked, tiny crinkles mapping along wet, amber skin. An instant pain jolted into your gut when you attempted to fidget, and a whine nearly tore itself from between your cracked lips.
âDonât try to move,â you heard a rough voice, âstay still as best you can.â
âMingyu?â You croaked, reaching upward to stroke his cheek.Â
His fingers coiled gently around your wrist, bringing the scars that were carved like ancient hieroglyphics to his lips. The second he pressed kisses to the old wounds, you smiled.
âYou have no idea how happy I am to see you awake,â he rasped, his eyes soft, gleeful, âyou fucking saved me, yâknow? Itâs because of you Iâm still here, still breathing. All because of you.â
Your face scrunched in confusion.
âWait⌠So, Iâm not⌠dreaming?âÂ
Despite Mingyuâs earlier advisement to stay still, you forced your body upward, though you faced immediate repercussions as a jarring bolt struck you in the stomach. Mingyu attempted to make you relax once more, but you refused to listen to his cooing. Distant thunder rolled in the distance, and you could see a pale glow beaming behind the flossy clouds that shielded the sky. Seven oâclock was probably on the brink of arrival. You were still in the alleyway. Casting a glance toward your new wounds, you noticed that Mingyu had wrapped his jacket tightly around your waist.
âNow would be a good time for lots of gauze, right?â You smiled.
Mingyu settled his palm delicately at the back of your neck and pushed your lips together, a smile slowly dancing along his mouth as he felt your fingers thread through his locks. Just like Mingyu had predicted, a misty rainfall was spraying from the early morning sky, infinitesimal droplets of glass sitting upon his skin as though he were a springtime rose. You kissed his lips again, and again, and again, until the pain in your stomach became too much of a distraction and your head was falling to the crook of his neck. Stealing a glance around the alleyway, you couldnât help but notice that Junhui and Yeeunâs bodies had been laid beside each other.
You thought about what Wonwoo had said.
Maybe where youâre going is different than where Iâm about to go. One of lifeâs many mysteries, right?
Well, at least Junhui and Yeeun would share an eternal fate in the one place they truly belonged, and it wasnât exactly a mystery where that place was either.
âMingyu,â you reached for his shirt and gave it a small tug.
He peered down at you through the fanned arch of his lashes.
âAre you still in a lot of pain, baby? I wish I could take it all away from you. Iâm sure the medical services will be here soon, I promiââ
âI love you.â
Mingyu stuttered over the humid air. âO-Oh â I, um, I â I love you too⌠But, I think you already knew that.â
A molten blush crawled up from the column of his neck and flushed throughout his face akin to a raspberry burn. Though it ached to giggle, you couldnât evade in doing so, your eyes turned to crescent moons as more golden splashes of dawn light ebbed through the clouds. Somewhere in the distance, you no longer heard gunshots, incoherent slurs, riots and the skid of tires creating friction against pavement. You heard the whirr of emergency sirens and helicopter wings, medical services beginning to flood throughout the city like a creek. It was over. Mingyu was still tangible, warm, smiling whilst he pressed kisses against your forehead.
You donât know how, but you survived the chaos, you survived Wonwoo and his ludic friend, Jihoon. You survived Yeeun and you survived Junhui.
You survived the Purge together.
â a/n: ugh. this is just one of those fics where you become v attached to the characters. i was able to write this quicker than expected (MINUS THE STUPID TWIST THAT STUMPED ME) bc i was truly invested in the plot, and i rly adored every moment of it. actually, this fic was supposed to be posted ages ago, i think last year? but last year was terrible in terms of my health and wellbeing, so i kinda forgot this fic existed as i went on my hiatus. anywho, in my opinion, the first purge film was the best.
i havenât watched any of the newer purge movies tho, so they could be good! since im a horror/thriller fan, i liked the aspect of vulnerability the purge brought and how it forced ppl to invest in their capacity for violence, especially when the ppl they loved were involved. obviously - only for the fic lmao. bruh, during a real purge i am going to lock myself in the crawl space with a blanket and some cheerios. ALSO!!!! A HAPPY ENDING!!!!!! be proud of me!!!! this was an adventure!!! i hope you can enjoy the story as much as i!! hearing ur thots is appreciated as always!
#mingyu scenarios#mingyu fluff#mingyu angst#mingyu fanfic#seventeen scenarios#seventeen fanfic#seventeen angst#seventeen fluff#mingyu au#mingyu x reader#svt scenarios#svt angst#svt smut
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