"that'll be $35."

jeongguk raises an eyebrow, and stops rummaging in his pocket for his wallet. "35 for three?"

a nod.

"no way. 30 or im not buying."

he's being stubborn. he also doesn't care.

the body across from him, joshua, sighs, and sinks back into his seat. "i'll tell you what." he pauses, clearly agitated. jeongguk doesn't care again. "if you're so intent on buying for $10 a gram,"

"i am."

he freezes, and shoots jeongguk a glare. "don't interrupt."

"sorry."

another sigh.

"as i was saying, if you're that fucking determined to pay $10 a gram," he pauses, eyes jeongguk as if he's reassuring himself jeongguk will keep his mouth shut this time, "then i can give u 4 for $40."

jeongguk is broke. he has $50 total in cash, and maybe $5 more in his bank account. maybe. $5.37 to be precise.

fuck it.

"alright." jeongguk agrees, and he resumes seeking his wallet out of his pocket while joshua grabs his weed out of the center console. it's pouring outside, the rain splattering against the car windshield in fat drops, almost big enough to be hail. jeongguk likes the rain. always has.

he pulls out $40 and hands it to joshua, while joshua hands him a plastic bag. jeongguk looks, and sure enough, 4 little green nugs sit inside, but since jeongguk's a little shit, he says, "you sure this is 4 g's?", looking at joshua, lips curling up slightly in the beginnings of a smile.

"jeongguk."

"yeah?"

"get the fuck out of my car."

"okay."

jeongguk doesn't need to be told twice. he steps out of the car, feeling one of the raindrops hit him right in the center of his forehead. it sends a slight chill down his spine, but he brushes it off and quickly slams the car door behind him, almost violent in the way he moves. not quite.

his car sits parked slightly further down the street, the dinky impala illuminated by a singular street lamp perched in front of the barbed wire fences that surrounded beige painted homes, lined along the streets.

the street lamp flickers off for a second, jeongguks face painted in red as he walks, a traffic light up ahead, and then flickers back on, the red leaving as quickly as it came. he likes the color red. thinks white is a boring color. bland.

he gets into his car, grimacing at the feeling of his wet clothes against the carpeted seats. turning the key in the ignition, music immediately begins filtering through the speakers. he sits for a moment, taking the weed and placing it safely in his own center counsel.

the moment he sees joshua's car peel away from the curb he shifts gears, and presses his foot so hard on the gas pedal it could break. at three am, he's not concerned about rear ending some susan's white subaru and getting sued. not concerned with much other than what's going on in his own head, and avoiding going home for as long as possible. for as long as he can.

he drives steadily, running the stop light, the same red flashing across his face again. his mind wanders to school, how he'll need to wake up in 3 hours in order to make it in time. that's not that far away. the thought makes him feel tired, despite the fact that right now, he's wide awake. it's more of a subconscious thing.

not thinking much about what he's doing, he grabs a pack of cigarettes from his cupholder, the lighter in his pocket easily accessible. he's always been good at multitasking anyways.

knowing how to get home from muscle memory, the bass of the music makes his head pound. he turns it down a bit, taking an especially long drag from the cigarette, the lit tip at the end coloring his face red for the third time. seems to be a reoccurring theme tonight.

he doesn't mind. the drag doesn't necessarily make his headache feel better, in fact just makes his lungs feel worse, the thin coating of tar he's sure sits within them thickening ever so slightly. oops.

still, he watches the smoke collecting in the car, his eyes defocusing from the road ahead of him to watch the tendrils leave his mouth. probably a bad idea. definitely. but as the smoke nears his eyes and he watches it cloud, resembling the ones heavy with rain above, thunderclouds, he ignores it.

a flash of yellow in the corner of his eyes. he slams on the breaks, and automatically puts the car in reverse, driving backwards. the only sound in the silence that 3:00am brings is the screech of his tires, and then he's violently turning the car into a mcdonald's drive thru.

stops right in front of the menu and ordering machine and rolls down his window. he's the only one there. "hello sir, welcome to mcdonald's. how may i help you?" a voice comes through the speakers, sounding mildly bored. a girl.

jeongguk would be bored too if he was working at mcdonald's at 3:00am on a sunday.

but, he can't help but be irked by the way she talks. he never was one for the formalities of customer service. the responses are always fake, predetermined. feel automated, like you're not talking to a human, but a robot. if you ask him, he thinks it depersonalizes conversation. because even if it's just to order food, it's still talking to somebody. still interacting.

"hi um, i haven't decided yet." he speaks around the cigarette, it giving a certain muffled quality to his words. his accent is mild. he rereads the description of a mcchicken about six times, brain not processing.

"okay, just let me know when you're ready." the voice says, and this time jeongguk pays more attention to it, less attention to the politics behind customer service. it's not always foolproof, but sometimes you can just tell. from someone's voice. that the person will be pretty, enamoring.

he hums, looking at the beverage choices. "y'know, this fine establishment here is the only place open at this hour." jeongguk comments, a slight edge to his voice. he's not sure if pretty girl's paying attention, or even pretty. again, all theories. speculation.

a scoff. "of course it's open sir, it's a mcdonald's."

jeongguk looks away from the menu, and instead at the camera that he assumes this girl is probably watching him from.

"for someone who calls me sir, you have quite the attitude m'lady."

the speaker's silent, and jeongguk is satisfied. his attention returns to the menu happily, still staring at the mcchicken. ditches the notion altogether, moves his attention towards the breakfast menu. stares for a bit, still deciding.

pretty girl isn't very patient.

"do you have any idea of what you want to order yet?"

the voice startles jeongguk, makes him feel happy. that he's agitated her. and he knows it's not a good thing to agitate someone, but her responses are no longer automated, or fake. they come from her own brain, flow into the night air just as freely as jeongguk's own.

"ahh, so i see you've dropped the sir altogether." he says, going for cheeky, coming off more as annoying.

"just answer the question."

he reattempts. "answer the question, who?"

he can hear her sigh. "sir." she says, sounding defeated. jeongguk's an ass.

"i'll take," he pauses, puffs on the cigarette while still looking directly into the camera, "a water and some fries." he says it with a glimmering smile, and the girl scoffs.

"are you sure you don't want-"

she stops, because jeongguk's already driven to the next window.

jeongguk arrives, grabbing his wallet out of his pocket. looking up at the girl he had been bantering with a moment ago, he sees her name tag reads sara and she's cringing at the smoke his cigarette is giving off.

he was right, she is pretty, dark hair falling past her shoulders, jaw pointed and cheekbones high set. thick eyebrows, pink lips.

"how much was my total again?"

"you left before i could tell you so-"

he sighs and takes a $20 out, handing it to her.

"keep the change."

"this is way too much money."

"didn't think there was such a thing as too much money."

"that's not what i meant, and you know it."

jeongguk pauses.

"consider it," he taps his chin, "a tip." the cigarette sits in his mouth the entire time.

"i'm not allowed to accept tips."

"a shame. why not take it anyways?"

"i don't wanna lose my job-"

"i'm driving away now."

he leaves her confused, nonetheless putting the $20 in her pocket, with her pretty nose scrunched up and eyes slightly widened.

jeongguk collects his fries from a worker named blake at the next window. grabbing the bag and noticing the boys almost too white teeth, he cringes at his overly superficial appearance. smug, he takes his cigarette in between his fingers, crushes the butt onto the sill, leaving a dark ash mark on the mcdonald's drive through.

"um sir, you can't put out your cigarette there." blake stutters, voice breaking a bit as he says the word cigarette. jeongguk think's it's a bit too late for that, makes direct eye contact with the scared shitless expression on blake's face. in his eyes. the sir isn't quite as satisfying coming out of his mouth. just annoys him.

"have a nice day blake." jeongguk takes the remainder of his now dormant cigarette and tosses it lightly into the mcdonald's. he drives out of there quickly, tires making a light screeching sound as he leaves behind a slightly horrified blake and a $20 richer sara.

he takes a sip of his water, and then decides he wants to have another cigarette before being forced to talk to his mother. his mother. he lights it once again, sighs after he inhales, satisfied. he has around 10 more minutes of complete freedom, maybe only 9 if he speeds too much. immediately slows down his speed to a solid 45.

his head still hurts. the music isn't helping, and the cigarette does worse than the music, so he turns the music up. two negatives things don't make a positive one, jeongguk knows this, but he also doesn't care. he likes this song. likes the feeling of a cigarette in his mouth to this song. he slowly chews a fry, replacing the cigarette momentarily before putting it back.

the music cuts of suddenly, his ringtone replacing it. he curses under his breath, exhaling a puff of smoke.

he knows who's calling. waits not-so-patiently for it to go to voicemail. the music resumes, but it only lasts for a split second.

she's persistent.

he takes his eyes of the road to turn over his phone, grimacing when he sees the name "devil" displayed across his screen. he knew it was her. dread fills his stomach anyways. his eyes stay off the road longer than they should, and almost too soon for him to react, his face is painted in red again. the red from a stoplight. yelling at him.

he slams on the breaks, hardly stopping in time, eyes falling onto the bright circle with a drop of his stomach. he could just run it, the intersection is empty, but his foot instinctively flattens the break. he needs a break.

fries cover the car floor, the force having knocked over the bag. the car is nearly silent, suffocating, none of the usual city sounds surrounding him. everyone's asleep, except he and his mom, his phone being wide awake, ringing loudly, screaming. heavy breathing comes between chirps, red tinting everything, adrenaline pumping.

he catches his breath, the light flicking to green as he budges and picks up the phone. timing.

"jeon jeongguk?" her voice is piercing, like a rusty nail driving into his ear, screwing, crawling towards his brain. he tries not to speed. fails miserably.

"mother?" his tone is just as piercing. dna.

an inhale.

"where are you?" the voice is softer now, a facade. jeongguk almost laughs, fully aware nothing's funny. face hardens into a line. no colors tinting it now, just flickering lights, white lights, rising and falling with his breaths. he inhales the cigarette smoke, knowing his mom can likely hear the crackle of the flame.

"on the way."

"jeongguk." she says, voice sounding desperate.

"yeah?"

she doesn't answer, just breathes out, shaky.

"i'll be home in five minutes." a pause, another inhale, from his end this time. "don't wait up."

then he hangs up the call and speeds, more than before.

the lights are all sorts of colors now, but he doesn't think about them. the cigarette is basically just a filter sitting between his lips, remnants of cotton being inhaled, but he doesn't think about that. pulls into the driveway, doesn't think about how that 5 minute car ride felt like thirty seconds. his mind too zeroed in on one thing to focus on another, time. is surprised he was able to drive.

he grabs his weed. leaves the fries though.

he yanks the keys out of the ignition, shoving them into his pocket, cigarette still hanging, limp. basically dead. fizzled out. just needs that final push over the brink, that insulator to finally suffocate the embers.

finds the perfect one in the form of his mom's sleek white car, parked directly in front of his. a white subaru. ironic. smushing the orange remnant against the car door, making sure to rub left and right so it really leaves a mark, he smiles, closed lipped.

pulling away the cigarette stub and seeing the mark, stark against the white background, he likes it. the contrast. the blandness, unity, interrupted by a single smudge that won't comply. he thinks about it while walking up to his front door, hands curling around the handle, ready to swing it open before he catches his reflection in the window.

he looks tired.

worn down, lips chapped. pores enlarged, a pimple here and there, nothing some fancy product can't fix. but his eyes, his eyes look wrecked, like someone just drained all the life out of them and then watched him sink to his knees, watched him fall.

a small amount of liner sits on his lower lash line, making big doe eyes look bigger, big doe eyes he despises because they also belong to the person he despises most in this world.

and then before he can comprehend, those eyes are staring back at his. the ones he despises, one's he gets his own from. except they don't look tired. just angry.

the door swings open before he can blink.

"jeongguk."

a firm grip around his wrist, yanking him within the confines of his house, a small sound escaping his mouth. the moment all of him is in the door it's slammed, everything a blur, and she drags him further, grip getting tighter.

she finally lets go of him a couple feet into the house, shoving him in front of her with surprising force. it surprises him every time. her eyes look him up and down, not saying anything as she watches him rub his wrist in pain, red fingerprints left behind.

the house is silent.

"you smell like cigarettes."

he takes another step back, just for safety. a nice smells tickles his nose. cookies. she made cookies? his stomach rumbles.

he ignores it.

"yeah." her eyes narrow, his heart kicks. "i smoked a couple."

her face is illuminated in red now, but not the color, the emotion, the rich anger that originates in your core and crawls up your spine, ends in your eyes, carrying it like dead weight you can never seem to shake.

she inhales again, seems to look even more angry. "you smoked weed too."

he takes another step back, still smelling the cookies. since when did his mom make cookies? he never got to eat his fries. it's 3am. he hasn't eaten since dinner.

"didn't smoke it-"

"jeongguk."

she says his name again, her voice venomous, and jeongguk feels like if he listens to her saying his name like that too closely the venom may reach into his brain and poison him too. it's too late for her, but maybe he can be saved, maybe he can find some sort of antidote, but his mom is pissing him off and there's weed in his pocket and those cookies smell fucking delicious-

he pulls himself together.

"what." he breathes out, making sure his tone is soft. he doesn't want his face to be illuminated in red again tonight. he's better than that.

at least he thinks he is.

"i thought you promised you would work on this."

jeongguk's confused. on what she means. on what this is. on when he promised her anything, so he says, "what do you mean?"

her body language appears civil, but he can almost sense the wave of anger that slightly radiates off her. the same one he felt a second ago, the same one he's felt many times before. it's not hard to tell what someone's thinking if you look closely enough. jeongguk's always looking, and right now, her face is showing all the signs.

"i mean everything," her voice is cold, unforgiving, "this, coming home in the middle of the night smelling like smoke, smoking in general, just your overall behavior," she pauses, tries her best to sound sad despite the how utterly fake her tone sounds, the real emotion, annoyance, shining through above all, "you just. you said you'd get your shit together jeong-"

red.

"that was only if you fucking worked on your shit too." the venom's in his voice now.

her face goes from screwed up in anger to completely flat. it's almost awkward, them standing in the middle of the kitchen, having a fucking stare off, her looking blankly into his eyes while he stares back, face more visibly agitated. he thinks he prefers her when she's angry.

"don't." she pauses, the venom fifteen times more potent, concentrated. "don't you dare curse at me. i am your mother and-"

"are you?"

bad idea jeongguk.

"what?"

his heart stops. her eyes cast downwards, staring at her heels, before coming back up again, heels moving one after another across the linoleum.

he takes more steps back, even more, but its futile, she's this close now, and the more his breathing picks up the more he can smell the liquor on her breath, and-

"am i what?"

her hand is curled around his collar now, skin paler than his, gripping the black fabric so tight that it starts to bunch up and rise off his chest, the waistband of his jeans exposed.

her fingernails dig into the cotton, and he's sure he hears a ripping sound, but doesn't look because his eyes are screwed shut and his head's turned to the side. "what did you say?"

"nothing." he mutters, barely even a word, barely even a voice. her fingers curl even more. he definitely hears a ripping sound now. "i asked you," more whiskey hits his face in the form of moist air, "what you said."

anger bubbles up his throat, falls back down again, rises up. a back and forth, and he's trying not to snap because if he snaps then his mom will and that'll make things way worse, but he can't just allow himself to be treated this way.

he isn't sure what to do. he hates the way he acts bold when really all it takes for him to roll over and show his belly and cry is a simple change in tone, and he wants to lash out but fuck her nails are centimeters away from his throat and she's crazy.

he's scared.

"nothing." he repeats, firmer, ignoring the tears brimming. his mom seems to see them, and she backs up, fingers unhooking. her expression softens. silence once again. jeongguk's eyes open, staring at the floor. he can't look at her. won't.

"look," she begins. jeongguk finally looks up and she's done a full one eighty, her face now looking pained, exhausted. she's leaning against the counter top, nails splayed out, nails that still send a tinge of fear into his chest. "tonight was supposed to be good."

she makes no sense. he's used to it.

he waits for her to continue, not sure what to say himself. feels a small hole in the front of his shirt. figures.

"i made cookies," she points to the stove, the cookies jeongguk saw earlier still sitting out. they look fresh, maybe baked almost an hour ago. she exhales, shaky, again. "and i was going to have a talk with you."

"about?"

probably the same shit. he needs to get his act together,again. a mantra. other stuff.

"getting your act together."

he almost laughs again, hardly managing to keep it in. his stomach rumbles. she gauges his reaction, and puts her hand up, like it'll soothe him rather than make him feel worse. those fucking fingernails.

"i know how it sounds just," she walks over to the stove, back facing him, "you're my only son and you mean a lot to me." yeah fucking right. having heard that speech a million times, jeongguk can never tell if she really means it or not, which means she doesn't. she's one hell of an actress, a shitty mom.

"i know how it may seem, but i'm willing to start trying," he can tell he fails to hide his scoff by the way her shoulders tense up. he's sure her face is livid, ripe with anger, but she's able to suppress it from here, calculating, manipulating, back turned.

"if you are." she finishes, voice tense, and turns around with a cookie outstretched, chocolate chips gooey and edges light brown. she stares at him, holding it out like it's gonna solve every problem they have, reverse the irreversible, turn back time.

its a fucking cookie. she's a wack job.

his stomach rumbles.

there are worse things he's done than eat a cookie from a wack job.

"consider this a peace offering?"

her voice is hopeful, but he doesn't say anything, just cautiously reaches out and grabs it, walking over and sitting down on a stool up against the counter. she faces him, an island between them that he's thankful for. he takes a bite quickly, sort of frowning when it doesn't live up to the way it smells. has a weird aftertaste.

a shit cook and a wack job.

he isn't sure how to cut through this silence, so he just keeps chewing, chokes out a, "what's in this?" another bite. her eyes flit downwards, lips pressed into a constant thin line. she's clearly discouraged by his lack of response. "nutmeg."

he just hums around the cookie, keeps chewing. he's about halfway done when she starts talking again, "you know i only want what's best for you right?"

god jeongguk almost gags on his cookie, spits it out, reeling from how ironic that is coming from her mouth, how high and mighty she sounds when she's so far the opposite. she's lying through her teeth, she's always lying, and before he wasn't sure if he could blame her for it but now it's all he can think about. how it's her fault. all her fault.

where they are. why they're alone. why she acts the way she does, because she could go to a fucking specialist, go see a therapist, just make any effort to keep herself together for him, because he's her son and he's just a kid and sometimes a kid just needs a mom and not a figure to loom over you and control-

"right?"

he realizes he's been thinking too long, mouth held stationary, cookie soggy and half chewed in his mouth when she repeats herself. old habits die hard. he thinks of what to say, swallowing hard.

her gaze flicks back up and she looks into his eyes, and it's then that he realizes her eyes aren't as similar to his as he thought. hers are cold, glassy, no emotion within them, pupils permanently wide within a brown that looks black and murky in this lighting.

he gulps again, this time only swallowing air, her eyes almost challenging him, daring him to disagree, daring him to go against her.

you don't show it. he wants to say.

bullshit. the reckless part of him wants to say.

"right." he says, taking another bite, cookie almost gone. he wonders what he'll distract himself with then, wonders why his mom is still awake, why the alcohol has yet to reduce her to a drooling mess on the couch sleeping in her own sweat, mind likely filled with dreams of wallowing in self pity.

"good." she just answers, and jeongguk was right, it was a challenge, and he backed down like she wanted him to. he always does. it enrages him, but if he lets an emotion like that get to him, he's just as bad as her. jeon jeongguk is a lot of things, but he'll never be like his mother. he won't allow himself.

with a swift bite, he finishes the cookie.

"how was it?"

the question is instantaneous, and he meets her eyes cautiously, nods, and falsely turns up only the very corners of his lips to fake gratitude. "it was good." she gives a chilling smile, eyes still challenging, and he wonders why, "thanks."

"i'm glad."

he also wonders why those words ring in his ears, why the headache he had before starts to grow increasingly more prominent, overwhelming even. way more than in the car, way more than when he was blinded by rage. just makes the world morph, his senses dull.

the blood rushes to his head all at once and it's pounding, his hearts pounding, and his mom's still smiling and he wonders if this is a visceral reaction to that smug look on her face, but his vision starts to spot up, and maybe he smoked too many cigarettes.

"um," his own voice sounds foreign in his ears. woah. it feels like he's not talking, like the voice isn't his own, someone elses, and he's definitely going to faint and he should probably do it away from his mother so she doesn't accuse him of taking heroin, try to guilt trip him even more, "i think i'm going to go upstairs."

he tries standing, arms coming down on the countertop, but he's weak, can't feel any strength within himself, and the moment he even slightly gets himself off the seat he falls back onto it, body feeling heavy. too heavy, like he ate a fucking brick, not two mcdonald's fries and a cookie.

"jeongguk," his mother is still smiling, still staring into his eyes which are steadily drooping further and further down, glazing over and he's not sure if he's even focusing on anything coherent right now, the white of her teeth suddenly becoming a white blur like the street lights a half an hour earlier, "just relax."

then it clicks, and jeongguk is stupid for not realizing before. "you," he starts, voice tipping downward, pounding growing louder and louder, "you drugged me." it's not a question. he knows the answer, even with how he feels right now, half dead like he was injected with horse tranquilizer.

maybe thats what it was.

all he knows is it wasn't nutmeg, and his mom has always been crazy, up and down, refusing to take her meds, an alcoholic that quits once a month only to come back to it and feel bad for herself every time she does, but she's never done anything like this.

never done anything so drastic, and he almost wonders if what she put in that fucking cookie was enough to kill him, but it's all he can do right now to stay upright and he's about to slump forward on the counter.

"why?" because she still hasn't said anything, just smiling at him while his vision slowly deteriorates and he's seeing red again, but for a different reason, "because, like i said," she takes a step forward, slowly coming towards him like a fucking predator and he can't see anything now, is fighting to stay awake.

"just doing what's best for you."

and his innards feel like they're melting together but a chill runs down his spine, because she's finally lost it, and the chill almost brings him back to life. not really, because he still sees red dots dancing, obscuring, but if he really tries maybe he can take out his phone and call the fucking cops, and he's reaching and his brain's almost gone-

a hand curls around his wrist, and he asks himself if the nails will rip his skin like they did his shirt. is almost sure they're about to because the pain is the only thing he can feel other than his eyes screaming at him to let them close, body begging to shut down.

he can sort of see, only sort of, and it's only his mom's face, evil and there's that venom, and maybe the venom is what was in the cookie, what poisons him now as she rips the phone from his hand and crushes his hopes.

its over, he knows, but he needs to get up because he doesn't know if he'll ever wake up when he lets his eyes close, if he does wake up where he may find himself.

"you," he starts to say, wanting to yell and scream, maybe let a neighbor hear, but his voice is quiet and raspy, hardly even audible in the silent room, or maybe thats his ears pounding. with everything he has he gets up, and his body is jelly, and he realizes it was a mistake too late as he's falling to the ground, stool falling over with him.

he hits the ground with a thud, and everything's red.

-