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Jaehyun is leaning against a pole, one hand gripping the edges of his phone. He stares at the empty street in front of him, his shadow pooling beneath him and stretching out into the night as he continues to sit on a block of stone he found at the side of the road. It is cold. Much, much colder than the previous nights. Taeyong told him to wait. He doesn’t how much longer he can hold on.
He presses his tongue against the roof of his mouth, trying to wash away the bitter aftertaste of alcohol lingering inside his mouth. He can still remember the heavy scent of tequila running under his nose. The burn still pulsates along the sides of his throat. Swallowing is hard for him now, and it makes him wince and curl his fists into rigid balls. Maybe if he hadn’t drank tonight, he would still be inside his own shitty studio apartment away from the city, wallowing in his self pity. He would probably be laying on top of his room’s dirty carpet with blotches of dried coffee stains and cheeto dust clinging onto his skin, but at least he wouldn’t be sitting alone at the side of the fucking road in the middle of the night with his throat burning and his eyes screaming for him to just take a fucking sleep! Maybe if he had stayed inside his apartment like any sane person would do at a weekday, then maybe he wouldn’t have called Taeyong in the middle of the night, grumbling at him to come and pick him up because he’s scared of being alone.
Johnny would probably chastise him. You can’t keep on always bothering him, Jae. Bullshit! Who is he to tell him what to do? Taeyong would always be willing to help him, just as he used to always be years before they had grown apart.
“What a fucking shit show,” Jaehyun whispers to himself. He pushes himself away from the pole and lets his hands roam around the pockets of his pants. He finds his lighter resting inside his back pocket, and he grins.
The first lungful of smoke is always the most painful part. Jaehyun chokes once, but he doesn’t exhale. He continues to take in the smoke. The burn is familiar. It feels good. It didn’t take him long before he was engulfed within his own smoke, inhaling and exhaling and inhaling and exhaling. On, and on, and on, and on. The burn is satisfying and familiar. It makes him forget. If he drowned himself in cigarettes, would he be able to permanently forget Taeyong? Not that he would want that, though. He’ll never want that.
“I thought you already quit?”
Jaehyun turns to his right, the burning stick wedged in between his peeling lips. If he tugged at the skin, it would surely bleed. Slowly, he removes the cigarette from his mouth. “Hey,” he says, his eyelids fluttering. Taeyong seems so far away. “You came.”
Taeyong sighs and slowly walks over to him. Jaehyun lets his eyes rake his form, unabashed. “You’re wearing my hoodie,” he states as a matter of factly.
Taeyong ignores him and proceeds to remove the cigarette away from his hand. He throws it onto the pavement and steps on it once with the tip of his shoe. “Jaehyun, you need to go home.”
Jaehyun raises an eyebrow and leans against the pole once again. “Do I?”
“It’s already past midnight.”
“I know.”
Taeyong lets out an exasperated sigh. “Jaehyun-“
“Why did you come?”
“What?” Taeyong furrows his eyebrows at him. “You’re the one who called me.”
“But why did you come? You didn’t have to, you know?”
Taeyong mutters a curse under his breath. How many times do they have to go through this shit show before any of them finally gives up on each other?
“You’re the one who asked me to pick you up, Jae. I’m just trying to be a nice person.”
“But you didn’t have to.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Taeyong runs a hand through his disheveled hair, its tips reaching past his neck now. Jaehyun wants to tug at them carefully. He wants to know if they would still feel soft against his fingertips. “Are we really going through this shit again, Jae? We’ve had this conversation countless of times already!”
Jaehyun lifts his eyes to meet his gaze. “You can leave if you want to, then.”
“I’m not leaving you out in the middle of the street! You’re drunk!”
“I’ll be fine,” Jaehyun sighs. He lowers his head and stares at his shadow. “I can handle myself.”
“I can’t fucking believe you, Jaehyun.”
Jaehyun snaps his head towards him. “What?” he spat. “I’m not forcing you to stay with me. You can leave if you want, I don’t need your help.”
Taeyong scoffs. He throws his head back for a moment. Jaehyun watches as he closes his eyes to keep his temper in check. When Taeyong turns back to look at him, he lowers his gaze to avoid his eyes.
“What do you want me to do, Jae?” Taeyong asks. His voice is quiet. Way too quiet. Jaehyun is afraid it might break so suddenly. “It’s been months since we broke up. Why are you still doing this to yourself?”
Jaehyun does not respond. He kicks his feet into the air, letting it swing back and forth. His eyes are burning. Why are they burning? He wants it to stop, but how?
“You need to heal, Jae. You need to see other people, too. You can’t always keep chasing after me!”
“I know,” Jaehyun whispers, shrugging, “but...”
“But?”
“I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you.”
Silence. Taeyong stares at Jaehyun. Jaehyun stares at his shadow. His shadow stares right back at the broken couple in front, waiting, wondering if mistakes were made only for their own sufferings. Was it a mistake to let go of a relationship that was starting to become more of a liability? Was Taeyong wrong for choosing his own peace of mind?
“What do you want me to say to that, Jaehyun?”
Jaehyun sighs and turns his head to face him. “The truth?”
“You wouldn’t want that...” Taeyong shakes his hed, sighing. “I know you wouldn’t.”
“Lie to me, then.”
Taeyong shakes his head fervently. “I can’t.”
“Do it,” Jaehyun urges. “Lie to me. If that’s what it would take for me to get out of this fucking shit hole, then do it.”
“I love you.”
Jaehyun stares. He blinks. Silence.
“Okay,” he breathes. “Alright.”
He watches his shadow slowly melt against the pavement.