Chapter Text
"Name?" Oh, this one looks different than the Nurses Subong used to see, this one wears a stoic face that carries a monotone voice — is this professionalism? — This one has hair longer than most men in the facility Subong is currently admitted at. This one is a new face to remember.
The Nurse sighed "You don't want me to call you Barney The Dinosaur now, wouldn't you?" The insult only flew by his patients head as his eyes displayed sadness. Right, no time for shitty jokes.
Subong wasn't aware of how long he's been staring at the Nurse accompanying him because the Nurse already took the initiative to check his wrist band, displaying his name and other details. "Mr. Choi Subong?" The Nurse called out for his name that snapped him back to where he is, right, a dreadful psychiatric Hospital.
Subong isn't sick, he firmly believes it, his parents and so called friends who had him admitted here are just a bunch of delusional phonies — seriously, he isn't sick. — So what if testing how long can his body keep up with taking Opioids sent him to psychosis and almost got him killed? Can't a man get his fix? Plus, he has taken and done so much worse in the past so, why now? Seriously, it wasn't even that bad and he wasn't even trying to kill himself this time.
"Hold your hand out for me? I have your medication for today." Was he daydreaming again? Subong looked at the nurse once more just to meet nothing inside those dark eyes, aren't Nurses supposed to feel warm or act cheerful? or something stupid? This is making him feel weird.
Subong hesitated for a second before stretching his hands to be given medicine, they were harsh keloid marks covering his wrist, it's obvious enough what they were and where those came from. Subong still fears the thought of people knowing, but this place is literally a billboard sign with your face — labelled "Crazy freak!" flashed in neon lights for everyone to see.
He hated himself for doing it, but it was the only thing keeping him grounded before he discovered drowning himself in cocaine, nicotine, and morphine to relieve his nerves was a choice. He wanted those scars long gone and to be never seen anywhere his body, but every time they fade, he always finds a way to bring them back.
Subong believes that he's not really sick if the pain his causing himself are not visible and he hates that, he hates it more that he wants people to know–to notice that he's fucking dying, but refuses any help, any attention, any medication. But, here he is now.
He feels so conflicted that he just wants to run away.
The Nurse wasn't fazed at all, he simply held Subong's shaky hands — that he hasn't realized solely because he was lost in thoughts — to stabilise it before pouring three pills in: antidepressants, mood stabilizers, and antipsychotics. It isn't Subong's addictive medicine that shoots fire through his nose and swims down his throat, but It's enough to keep him grounded.
This is a daily routine Subong got used to by now, not like it's a difficult routine to remember, it has been three days since he arrived, although he knows this routine like the back of his hands it is still dreadful — Subong rather play by his own rule, eat at his own pace, never take medications, but here he was with no choice. — "Open up, I have to check now, Mr. Choi Subong." Cold, the voice is still cold. Subong who enjoys bickering with people, Subong who hates being told what to do sat there and did what he was told without any complaints because he just doesn't have the energy to spat a mouthful of horseshit.
His new Nurse has a cold demeanor, but right now he doesn't care — he could care less if the Nurses were nice to him or mean — Subong just wants to get out as much as possible so he'd rather comply with whatever gay shit this place is offering. Speaking of gay shit, he's supposed to do therapy after drinking his medicine, coloring is what he planned to do and was told to do. The Doctors and Nurses bowed that drawing and colouring is a good exercise, it's gay, but Subong is a sucker for a way to pass time that isn't as boring as reading a book so might as well do it.
Letting go of daydreaming, he beamed outside the room he was sharing with at least two people, being trapped in a room full of mentally unstable people isn't new for him — his friends are probably way more fucked than the strangers he sleeps next to every night — Subong has been surrounded by fuckass people with fuckass mentally all his life, no sweat, you just gotta learn how to adjust then you'll be fine.
Subong trails off to the therapy room, in hopes there weren't many people. What should he draw? Maybe something cool as fuck like a Spaceship or a self portrait of how he'll be an amazing rapper in the future — a manifestation — but gets stopped by a sudden emergency happening in another room. He perked his head in to see Nurses panicking trying to sedate a screaming patient who was holding bloody scissors. That's insane man. Subong eyes suddenly wandered to the Nurse who was just shoving medicine down his throat earlier, tilting his head, the Nurse was sitting at the ground with an expression Subong didn't know the Nurse could make.
Sitting on the ground trying to compose himself as his wrist was covered in blood, clearly his own blood, Subong's eyebrows furrowed trying to make sense of what could've happened here not until he was gently shoved off the scene along with other patients by another Nurse.
The scene left Subong's sight, but never his mind. Holding a Red crayon he starts to draw and wander. His peers really think he belongs here? This place is filled to the brim with insane people — people harming other people just because they are hurting? Bullshit. If they wanna die then let them die. — This is degrading as fuck on his part. He'll be honest, he does have some kind of mental shit they say and he literally has purple hair, but he's not fucking insane. He doesn't belong in this mad house, he really needs to get out and knock some senses to the people who sent him here.
He was told that if he did good he'll be out in no time, he has been doing so much better than good so why is he still stuck here? It's been three days, he eats, takes medications, and does therapy. This is fucking stupid. He wants to leave, he feels belittled here and not in control.
"If you break that crayon the others might not have something to use later on, Mr. Choi Subong." Subong snaps out of his resentment realising that he was gripping the Red crayon so hard it could break any minute, Subong sighs as he gently lets go of the pathetic crayon. "What are you drawing?" Just now Subong realizes that that's the same voice this morning, the Nurse who was bleeding, the Nurse who was rocking a bob.
He looks up at the Nurse who still wasn't smiling, damn he looks tired, makes you wonder if he even likes his job — looking back earlier, he might be hating it now. —
"It's weird that you guys treat us like we're kids." Subong murmured, but was enough to be heard. The Nurse only hummed in response as he was now sitting next to Subong, "Do you feel like a kid whenever we talk to you like that, Mr. Choi Subong?" The Nurse asked nonchalantly, still no emotion labeling his tone, it's making Subong churm. Subong doesn't like it when he isn't aware of the situation — the situation being, he doesn't know what Bob Nurse is really thinking of and that pisses him off. — He likes to know, he loves to be aware, he enjoys being notified. Now he cares about the Nurse's cold demeanor.
That's why he's filled with so much resentment for those who agreed to admit him here, he wasn't aware and they made a decision without his consent. Makes you wonder if that's even legal, makes you double wonder if they truly care about his personal opinion or they just wanna abandon him as quickly as possible.
"Just call me Subong." He plainly said, forgetting about the question he was asked earlier. "Okay Subong, what are you drawing?" The Nurse asks one more time, but Subong eyes only lingered into his wrist wrapped in bandage.
"Did it hurt? — he really needs to learn names, Subong looked at the Nurse's ID attached to his scrub pocket that displays his name, Kim Namsu? Namgyu? — Mr. Kim Namgyu?"
The Nurse, Kim Namgyu, only looked at Subong. Was his patient really dodging a simple question or he has selective hearing, he might write that one for a doctor's appointment soon to get it checked up.
"No, I'm used to it by now and you can also just call me Namgyu." Namgyu smiles at Subong that he instantly knew wasn't real, his Nurse is really a mystery to him. The very day he arrived here, he was greeted by a young friendly Nurse, if he can recall her name correctly, it was Kim Junhee. Junhee was sweet and seemed very interested in her profession, not like his current one, Namgyu, he looked like he hated himself for working here.
It takes a few minutes for Subong to answer his Nurse, "It's not good to lie to your patient." He chuckled a little, although it felt so heavy. Namgyu starred at Subong, facial expression fell into astonishment that quickly rose to hide into another fake — but better — looking smile. "Ah, You're right Subong. I'm sorry, It does hurt, but I'm really used to it." He patted Subong's back who didn't complain, he didn't even flinch by the sudden touch, he only continued watching Namgyu.
Namgyu tucked a bit of hair behind his hair after giving him a tough pat, Subong never grew out of this specific habit he had since he was 8. Watching people closely — as closely as he can — to learn them, to study them, to memorize them because he learned young that people love to be remembered, people likes to be cherished, humans are sentimental like that or was it just him craving to be studied and remembered too?
Ah fuck that, Subong internally felt the heebie-jeebies as his eyes longs to look more into Namgyu's body language, but he knows it'll just hurt him. He'll get obsessive, learn things about his Nurse and then get upset when the Nurse doesn't remember traits about him, it's a habit he wants to let go of.
"Don't worry about it, Subong." The Nurse tried to reassure Subong as he signalled him to go and finish his drawing, "Continue it, I'm betting it's a Spaceship." Subong quietly nodded and gave a line smile, he drew his thoughts away as Namgyu's figure looms over him.
He drew and colored in full silence, but got rudely interrupted by another patient asking Namgyu a favour, "Nurse Namgyu can you play a match with me?" The patient who looks older than both of them asked politely while his fingers fidgeted with the handle of a Table Tennis racket. The Nurse looked a bit skeptical at first — of course Subong caught that, from what he had dealt with growing up, he had no choice but to catch Namgyu's face fall for a second —
Subong felt Namgyu breaths in heavily and smiled politely towards the older man, does he hate his patients or something? Does he hate Subong too?
"Sure I'll play with you, Mr Park." Nurse Namgyu got up to help entertain another patient by playing Table Tennis. Subong dropped what he's been drawing for 20 minutes, and the weird thought he had just now, to watch their Table Tennis match. Since he already got interrupted might as well spend his time into something more promising that drawing a Spaceship shaped dick.
Okay, he'll be honest, Nurse Namgyu was really shitty at it and he can't help but laugh at the boy's embarrassment every time — which was all the time — he misses to hit the ball. Maybe that's why he looked skeptical to play, he's dogshit at it. Somebody needs to teach him how to play.
Namgyu groans in defeat as the score board noted 2-15, he didn't notice that a crowd was already circling him and Mr. Park, and that made him more embarrassed. "Okay that's enough for me." Namgyu said breathing a bit heavily as he hurriedly tried to disperse the crowd, the patients all groaned in unison.
Subong only watched from afar, alongside other patients who were groaning dramatically, with a smile he hasn't shown in a long time. Watching someone suffer from something so simple is really his forte. His Nurse is stupid.
He watched as everyone went back to their own space and business, and as for his Nurse to retreat next to him. Subong was still smiling sheepishly that Namgyu only furrowed his brows at, "You don't know how to play Table Tennis?" Subong spoke first, a bit of taunt in his voice. Namgyu sat next to him looking a bit embarrassed and pink, tucking a strand of hair into the back of his ear. "No. Continue your drawing." He said nonchalantly trying to flip the conversation into a new topic, Subong chuckled a little before picking up a Green crayon.
He had only known his new Nurse for less than a day and he already knows that Namgyu has a habit of tucking a few strands of hair behind his ear whenever he lies, and that he sucks at Table Tennis.