I change my faces again in a flick
I'm going mad

Time had become shapeless recently.

I didn't even know what day it was, or how much time I had spent in glorified solitary confinement, but I was beginning to chafe under my shackles. No one had dared ask me anything after the time I had almost killed Jungkook with his own knife-in my defense, he had been the first to attack, even if it had been with words. And anyway, it wasn't like I would have been able to kill him. I wasn't skilled enough.

Yet.

He had seen me coming a mile away, and I had ended up pinned to the door of my own bedroom not more than a few seconds after; a snarling, rabid mess. Find control, he had simply said, letting me scream at him for a few more minutes before letting me go.

The most I had gotten out of the encounter was that a few days ago, I wouldn't have dared touch him. Whatever emotional toll my father's death had taken on me, it had been destructive of the most basic part of myself: humanity. I had never had control, and living in these conditions would have stripped me of a moral code slowly anyway, but the murder had been an efficient catalyst.

What did I not know yet? I tried to compartmentalize the facts in my head, marshal them into something coherent and manageable, but there were so many questions. Who had Baekhyun been running from? Had Taeyong turned over to his brother's side? Why did I have that was so important to the heir?

Trauma had handed me a weapon-a weapon is an emotion-and anxiety had made me turn the weapon towards myself, but things weren't the same now. Now, the pain acted outwards, spreading outside like a drop of blood in water, except nothing worked to dilute it. I had finally become the very thing my father never wanted me to be, the thing that Baekhyun had tried to protect me from.

A monster. The monster, the one that had been hiding in my heart for so long, and had finally ripped its way through.

The most disturbing thing about it was that I was fully aware of this, and wasn't in the least disturbed by it. I had nothing left, but I still had so much to avenge.

I wasn't scared anymore.

"-in there?"

I looked up dully. The door was half-open, and Chaeyoung was standing at the entrance, a covered plate in her hands. Her expression was as calm and serene as ever, but as she came close, I picked up on the careful way she set the food on the bedside table and sat down almost a foot away from me on the bed.

We sat in silence, the food remaining untouched, but she didn't tell me to eat. She didn't ask me what the matter was like she usually did-we all knew what the matter was. There were no overfriendly touches this time around, no reassuring smiles and no 'don't worry, baby'. The space between us was cold.

Chaeyoung smoothed back her rosette hair, and placed her hands palm-down on her lap. This had happened multiple times over the past...whatever the period of time was, and never had a word been exchanged by us. She held the same borderline expression on her face, the slight hesitation which was a completely new sight on her, but didn't speak.

"You're not going to go after him, are you?" she asked at length, and I raised an eyebrow. Her voice was whispery, but not quite, a slight tone that sounded almost too innocent. It was a question she already knew the answer to.

I didn't know if she was asking about Taeyong, or the heir, but it was practically the same thing in this context. Who was I willing to kill? The heir, his brother-Taeyong could have been a traitor for all I knew, but I couldn't believe it. Perhaps it made me weak, or exposed, but I didn't care. As I said, I had nothing left to lose.

"Do you really want me to answer that question?"

Chaeyoung pursed her lips, but didn't nod her assent. "Do you even know where he is?"

I arched both my eyebrows, as coldly as I could. "Do you want me to?"

She got up abruptly, and I turned away. There was a long moment as she stood there, not saying anything, but I could feel her. The curtains were still drawn, they always had been, and her shadow was just another shade of black.

"You're just like him," I said quietly. Him. Jungkook? The heir? It didn't matter. There was barely any difference. "All of you."

"Yes," she spoke. There was no tenderness in her tone, none of the dreamlike quality she wore like a garb, but there was no rebuke in it either. "And now you are, too."

She didn't shut the door on her way out.

──────

"Shut the door on your way out."

I looked back sharply.

Yeeun opened an eye and regarded me blankly from her position on the couch. I hadn't seen her there while coming to the living room, and I hadn't expected anyone to be there, but it wasn't really that surprising. With so many people in a house previously occupied by just two, some had to give up their dignity and sleep on the couch for a while.

I squared my shoulders and steadied myself. "Why are you awake at this hour?"

"I could be asking you the same question," she countered smoothly, and sat up, running a hand through her blonde hair. It was barely ruffled, a commendable feat for someone with dyed hair and an old couch for a bed. "But I don't need to, seeing as I already know."

I raised the carton of milk in my hand.

"Yes, cookies and milk at midnight, great," she said. It was odd seeing her this way, without her signature red lipstick and in a slightly loose t-shirt, no guns on her belt. "From the empty carton. Fully dressed."

My neutral mask fell, and I slowly set down the carton on the table. It had been a bad ruse anyway, but I hadn't really expected someone to see me leaving at such an hour. "It's not my fault no one's ever done grocery shopping here."

"I have, actually, but they tend to send Ten out on his best days," she replied, shrugging. "In his defense, we now have a stash of strawberry-flavored gum big enough to last us through a famine."

I would have laughed, but I didn't have it in me. "You don't know the correct atmosphere for jokes," I said flatly. "Just like him."

"Like who?" There was no humor in her tone now, not in the way she looked at me. Dead in the eyes, masking a cutthroat sharpness. "Like Baekhyun?"

I froze in surprise, then looked away, jaw clenching. "It doesn't matter," I said roughly. "He's dead."

Thankfully, she dropped the subject. I had no idea how she knew Baekhyun-maybe someone had told her, or maybe they had worked together in the underworld before-and I didn't want to know, but talking about dead people made me feel the last thing I wanted to feel. Guilt. "Where are you going?"

"Where do you think?" There was no point in hiding anything, at least not from her. "To find Taeyong."

She didn't look at me disapprovingly, but the way she tilted her head slightly made me want to look away. "What are you going to do when you find him?" she questioned. "You don't know his intentions, his loyalties, his allies." She gave me a flat look. "Will you kiss him? Or kill him?"

I had the urge to brush her questions away with a dismissive comment, but something held me back. Probably the fact that she knew the situation as well as I did, or that I didn't really have an answer. Or a dismissive comment. "I'll see about that when I get there."

She almost smiled. Another first. "Do you even know where he is?"

That was the second time I had heard that question that day, and it irked me now as much as it had irked me the first time. "No," I replied shortly, turning my gaze away, "but I know where Ken is."

"And what are you going to give him in exchange? A stab wound?"

My lips thinned. "Information."

"About what?" She cocked an eyebrow. "The Lees?"

"The Lees."

"He might have moved by now. You never know with informants, especially those outside any crime organization."

I pursed my lips further, hoping she wouldn't be able to pick up on my despondency. "I'm hoping not."

Yeeun gave me a long, measured look, and I held her gaze. A moment later, she sighed. "No need," she muttered, rubbing her temples with her index and middle fingers. "The Cirque Hotel and Casino."

I frowned. "How do you-"

"What's happening here?" The new voice had come from behind me, and I whirled around, already feeling anger rise in me at the potential ruin of my plan. It was Jun, standing at the base of the staircase, bleary-eyed and confused as he clutched the railing with a weak, sleeve-covered hand. "Why are you guys making so much-oh."

He spotted me, and shrunk visibly. He still looked bone-tired, with sleep-mussed black hair that stood out in stark contrast against his abnormally pale skin. Someone who didn't know him might have thought him to be drugged. But then, maybe he was. You never knew with racers.

I didn't blame him for being scared, but I didn't feel any compunction at the sight of him either. The desire that had driven me to this path was strong, overpowering any other emotion I might have felt. Maybe if I had tried controlling it, it would have worked, but I wasn't inclined to limiting myself. The stronger I was emotionally, the faster I was going to burn out, and I couldn't wait for much longer.

"Go back to your room, Junhee," I said softly, but with a poisonous undertone. "Before someone else wakes up."

He stared at me. His knuckles were paper-white with the force of his grip on the railing, but he didn't budge. "Where are you going?"

On a better day, I might even have been impressed by his courage, but I was running on an unfortunately low supply of patience. "Nowhere that concerns you," I said, jaw tightening with my grip on the gun at my thigh. "Go back."

Jun glanced at Yeeun, but her expression didn't change. She was watching me very carefully, as if trying to gauge my movements. Swallowing, he shook his head. "Not until you tell me what you're trying to do."

"I said go." I was shaking now, with a rage like what I had felt when Jungkook had made that remark, but stronger. There was a sense of power behind the words, of having an upper hand over someone. My vision was tunneling, and so was I, with raised hackles and something primal and bestial in me.

"I-"

"You will turn around right now," I seethed, baring my teeth. "Or I swear to god, Junhee, I'll kill you. I'll fucking kill you."

Jun flinched, and my upper lip twitched into a snarl. Without realizing it, I had raised my voice, and it was sure to bring more uninvited guests down to the living room. He looked at me then-with his puppy-like gaze, pleading eyes that now felt nothing but fear. Pools of black, and I was drowning in the fear in his eyes.

I snapped back then, like my emotions were an elastic band that had been stretched to their breaking point and had been released all of a sudden. He was afraid of me.

I looked at Yeeun, who was looking back at me quietly.

Still shaking, I turned around, and walked out.

──────

so wp deleted my a/n wassup

(if you got the reference to Super ily)

(even if you didn't it's ok ily anyway)

(we going rage issues)

(yay)

(not really that's actually kind of sad)

(look at me getting sad over my own angsty writing)

(love,
Manx.)