Jake doesn't want to be here right now.

It's loud and crowded, and his ribs are a little too tight around his erratic heartbeat, which means he's beginning to get anxious. And when Jake gets anxious, he loses all coherent thought. Bad things happen when he's anxious.

Jake rummages his jeans for his phone, the lump in his throat excessive when a shoulder bumps into him on the way to the kitchen. This is another thing that happens when he's anxious: every little touch or movement has him on edge.

The smell of alcohol is pungent in the already congested atmosphere, nauseating.

Beer burns down Jake's throat as he slumps on the wall, lukewarm and sour. He actually hates the taste, but he desperately needs to loosen up because he genuinely can't think straight at the moment.

Where is Sunoo? Jake thinks, and it's hard to think with the bass resonating through the living room.

Sunoo is Jake's closest friend – his only friend, actually – and they'd met during the world history course he took freshman year. Jake wants to think he's Sunoo's closest friend too, but Sunoo has always been better with people than he is. While Jake's social skills left much to be desired, Sunoo knew how to interact with others, and usually he was more than eager to guide Jake along and never really minded that Jake was sort of quiet.

The only reason Jake was here at this party in the first place was because Sunoo had suggested it would be good for the both of them. It's a brand new semester, and it won't be long before they get swamped up in time consuming assignments and finals. This was their chance to let loose for a bit and 'have fun', but as soon as Sunoo and Jake entered through the front door, Sunoo got whisked away by some other guy he also shared classes with.

Which leaves Jake here, alone. He wants to head back to his dorm.

Jake’s fingers tremble as he chugs down some more beer. He fights the urge to throw up, because this is going to help. The more he drinks, the calmer he becomes. He doesn't mind it as much when he nearly drops his phone while he swipes to the contacts list. Only cringes when his clammy palm leaves sweaty prints on the bright screen.

Jake sips more of the beer as he dials Sunoo’s number, his vision a bit hazy when he scans several heads for his blond friend, wishing he was taller. He's less uneasy too, now that he's more intoxicated.

The call doesn't go through. While this would usually worry and piss Jake the hell off, he figures through his muddled mind that he can just try again. So, he does.

Sunoo doesn't pick up for the second time. Jake stares blankly at the younger's contact photo, the one with them posing for the camera in these matching lime green hoodies with the frogs Sunoo had bought last year. Sunoo only needed one and said Jake could have the other, and of course Jake had agreed, even when he wasn't the biggest fan of the design. 

This is what most of their friendship consisted of. Sunoo would suggest something and Jake would quickly go along with it, 'cause he was happy Sunoo hung out with him so much.

Jake wants to believe Sunoo would also do the same for him, but it's been over an hour since he last saw Sunoo, and Sunoo has made no attempts to contact him.

Jake exhales deeply, disappointment gnawing at him from within, along with that all too familiar anxiety that suffocates him until he can barely breathe or do anything like a normal person. He wants to fucking not give a shit like everyone else, but it's unfortunately in his nature to make a mountain out of a molehill. To react impulsively even when it results in dire consequences.

Jaw clenched, Jake attempts calling Sunoo a third time. His grip on his beer tightens as he waits for his friend to pick up, the beverage sloshing about due to his recklessness. Jake waits, but then the screen goes dark without a response.

Jake draws a hefty breath to gather his thoughts and maintain a clear head, but it doesn't work too well. His heartbeat becomes sporadic once more, thumping away in his ears. He's not in the best of moods right now. In fact, he's on the brink of getting enraged.

Jake knows Sunoo might possibly just be busy, but... he's busy doing what exactly? Getting drunk and having fun with other people without Jake's boring self constantly looming around?

See, this is why Jake doesn't like it when he gets nervous. Because as soon as he does, thoughts like this pop up, insecurities that he's battled since childhood.

Jake has a problem with being alone, which could be considered weird since he thrives on solitude and would rather dive under the covers after a long day than attend a party like this one. But things go awry when he wants to reach out and spend time with others, but gets radio silence in response. Jake hates to admit it, but it upsets him sometimes. Hurts.

He’s bad at connecting with other people, bad at socializing, bad at being an actual fucking person. Always has, so when he finds someone that gets him and makes it easier for him to leave his already fragmented shell, he clings, clings, clings.

Jake loathes that part of himself, but it's difficult to change when it's the part that forms the entirety of him. It's never easy to feel like he's constantly on the periphery, staring and observing as everyone else interacts with each other and belongs. He's spent far too many nights alone with tears in his eyes for him to ever be okay with it, even when this has been something he's faced since forever.

Jake's eyes start to sting, and he drops the empty can of beer on the nearby table, rolling his shoulders to distract himself before he does something embarrassing, like cry.

Jake needs to look for Sunoo. He could just grab an uber and head home, but he doesn't want to leave without telling Sunoo first. Sunoo had previously voiced his disapproval whenever Jake escaped prior engagements without so much as a call, and it won't sit well with Jake if he bailed out without at least checking to see if Sunoo was okay.

So Jake heads for the stifling crowd, the noisy music assailing his ears instantly. It's tight in here and no one wants to move, a few even ignoring his wishes after he pleads for some space.

"Have you seen Sunoo around?" Jake eventually asks this guy, Kim Taerae, who shares classes with him and Sunoo. 

"Kim Sunoo?" Taerae squints at Jake, clearly drunk. The redhead next to him laughs as he slaps him on the back, obviously not taking Jake's question seriously. And, guessing by the lopsided dimpled smile Taerae throws Jake's way, he really can't be bothered either.

Jake forces himself to remain poised. He doesn't want to piss anyone off tonight, even though everyone else is more than eager to piss him off.

"Yeah. Kim Sunoo from World History," Jake clarifies. He can't even hear himself properly over the music, which irks him some more.

"Nope, I haven't," Taerae replies, slurring most of his words.

"Okay, thanks anyway," Jake says, anything but. He's about to leave when the red haired guy next to Taerae shouts his name.

Jake turns, gracing them with a taut smile when what he really wants to say is 'what the hell do you want?'. His thoughts surprise and scare him at times, but to be fair, a lot of people get on his nerves.

People get on your nerves, yet you're mad when you feel lonely, the voice in Jake's mind sneers, harsh and bitter. Jake ignores it just like he ignores most unwelcome truths of his life. He's terribly standoffish although he wishes he really wasn't, but it's hard not to constantly be on the defensive when people often don't take his feelings or wellbeing into consideration. And Jake has had way too many instances where his needs have been put on the backburner to care about seeming off or odd to others, despite craving a connection ever so often.

"You're that guy that always sticks to Sunoo, right?" The redhead asks, Taerae’s high-pitched laughter turning a little more overbearing. A little more mean.

"What?" Jake purses his lips into a tight line, his thoughts screaming at him to fucking get out of there already. But Jake has an unfortunate streak of lingering where he isn't wanted, just because he wants to belong. It's a foolish thought 'cause nothing's changed for years now, yet he still hopes.

"You're that weirdo that always trails after Sunoo." Red hair giggles while saying this, even when there isn't anything funny about his words. "Kinda like a leech."

"Taehyun, stop." Taerae hits Taehyun's chest, but it's clear that he's enjoying this. "Don't say that."

"Isn't that what everyone else thinks though?" Taehyun answers like it's an indisputable fact. Jake's heart squeezes, his hands trembling. "Maybe that's why Sunoo ditched him."

"Excuse me?" Jake finally speaks up, but he shouldn't have. His voice wobbles at the end, innocuous. Silly.

"I said, maybe that's why Sunoo ditched you, dude," Taehyun repeats, giving him a half-hearted shrug.

In another universe, Jake would've had the courage to sock him in the face, maybe even break his nose and walk away unscathed. But Jake isn't brave. He's taller than average, works out sometimes, but he knows if he attempts anything it'll only plague his conscience, that is if he doesn't get jumped first. It's hard to root for someone who's unpopular, after all.

So, Jake swallows down his anger – just like he's always done – and walks off, Taerae's and Taehyun's guffaws echoing behind him.

Jake can't let this get to him. He won't let this get to him, but by the time he reaches the corridor, it's harder to breathe. Ice congeals his heart, sharp with jagged edges, and each inhale hurts a hundredfold.

Maybe that's why Sunoo ditched you.

Jake needs some air. He stumbles his way past the crowd of students, every single one of them having the time of their lives, unaware of the twenty-one year old alarmingly close to losing his mind. But Jake has always suffered in silence, so it was easy for others to overlook him. Or maybe they just didn't bother to look hard enough. Jake wouldn't know.

By the time he staggers outside, unsteady, Jake feels like he's lived a thousand lifetimes. People are still around (they always are), but they're fewer out here than inside, and no one is watching him. They never do unless he upsets them in some way.

The late night breeze cools Jake's flushed cheeks. He lingers near the doorway to catch his breath, and it's then he spots flaxen tresses near the porch.

Sunoo.

Jake blinks in case he's hallucinating, but Sunoo is still there, a drink in hand as he happily chats with a guy and two other girls.

A lump stuffs Jake's throat. Sunoo's busy talking with other people, and Jake knows he always has his phone on him. He almost never leaves his calls unanswered, something Jake had cherished the first few months of their friendship. But Jake has noticed more of his calls going unanswered than not recently.

Sunoo is fine (and clearly doesn't need his company, Jake's mind unhelpfully adds right then), so Jake should just go and spare himself the numbing heartache.

But Jake doesn't know when to quit, even when it'll only make things worse. He's still dreadfully hopeful, so when he calls Sunoo one last time, hidden behind other bodies, Sunoo visibly frowning at his phone makes Jake feel like he's drowning.

Surprisingly, Sunoo promptly picks up, pressing the phone to his ear. His frown is still prominent, clashing with his youthful features. And Jake isn't used to it. He isn't used to seeing Sunoo so bothered when he was always so cheerful around him.

"Jake, what's up?" Sunoo starts, leaning over the porch. He also sounds sober, which stings.

Taehyun's words echo in Jake's mind again, and he can't ignore it.

"Um," Jake clears his throat, the sound rough and painful. He isn't sure if he wants Sunoo to pick up on it or not. "I'm good. I've been looking for you, actually."

"For me?" Sunoo asks like it's odd for Jake to wonder where he is. Like Jake and Sunoo aren't best friends.

Maybe Jake is just in over his head at this point, but he continues trudging onwards, because he needs to know.

"Yeah. I'm heading back to my place, and I just wanna know where you are," Jake confesses.

"Oh." Sunoo scratches his cheek. "I'm on my way to the bathroom right now. You can leave, if you want."

Fuck. Jake’s shoulders slump, and he grits his teeth to prevent any tears from falling. He knows he's being overdramatic, but things like this have always rubbed him the wrong way. Being left behind has always rubbed him the wrong way.

And Sunoo is lying, too, something he knows Jake despises. He's spent enough of his childhood being fed empty promises to not feel like he's being betrayed when someone doesn't tell him the truth.

You can leave, if you want. The sentence adds to the ice clamped around Jake's heart, and right now, he wants nothing more than to disappear.

"Jake?" Sunoo starts, his voice almost muffled by background chatter. They sound stress free, happy, something Jake can't relate to.

"Sure, okay," Jake blurts, adjusting his jean jacket. It's thick enough to withstand the wind, but he's unbelievably frozen on the inside. He observes the faint snow spiraling downwards. "See you later, I guess."

"Yeah. See you." Sunoo nods, and Jake remembers the times Sunoo knew something disturbed him as soon as he heard his voice. Jake can't help but wonder if Sunoo can tell how despondent he is at the moment. Can't help but wonder if he even cares.

Jake cuts the call, then ambles down the steps. A few people glance his way, and Jake doesn't care if Sunoo ends up seeing him. He's not gonna look back.

The snow makes things a bit slippery, but luckily, Jake is wearing boots. He shoves his hands into his trouser pockets and continues walking, quickening his pace when he hears a voice suspiciously like Sunoo's yelling his name from the distance.

Jake doesn't stop moving until he's out of the premises entirely. Fallen snow cements the lawn like mold, and Jake sharply exhales clouds of smoke. 

Jake's thoughts are a mess, even worse than how they were inside that house. He's still drunk, unstable and alone in an unfamiliar place because Sunoo did ditch him. Jake thinks about him again, and wonders if he's chasing him right now to explain himself. The thick silence shrouding the frigid air has Jake seriously doubting this.

He doesn't know how much time he spends walking. The streetlamps glitter upon the sidewalk, providing adequate brightness, but it doesn't matter when Jake has no idea where he currently is and is adamant on not checking his buzzing phone to see who's calling him. It's most likely Sunoo, but Jake is too fucked up and distraught to listen to whatever Sunoo wants to say at the moment.

Jake really should get an uber before it gets more late, but he doesn't stop moving, a slave to his racing thoughts.

It's gotten colder. Goosebumps litter Jake's skin, and a sharp, swift chill trickles down his spine.

Jake halts when sudden footsteps echo behind him, crunching over spilt snow. He breathes in and out to gather his thoughts, but they're laboured, as erratic as his pulse.

The plan of listening in for more of those footsteps is rendered useless when Jake no longer hears a thing. It doesn't help that he's still a bit intoxicated, his reflexes majorly stilted as a result.

The streetlamps still shine, fortunately, but they cast shadows over the roads, which appear more and more eerie as the seconds go by. While Jake isn't one to be scared of the dark, he is wary when he can't identify its source.

And right now, he doesn't know where these shadows emerged from. He tries to reason that they're from the few trees populating the area, but upon closer inspection, the shadows don't actually mirror the trees.

For one, they're much larger, shapeless blobs that expand the more distance Jake covers.

He shivers beneath his jacket and searches for his phone, but his hands are too jittery. Impending doom masks the air, poignant, and Jake has no fucking idea where it's originating from.

It's then Jake hears the wails.

His heart drops. He hears something else, something like those footsteps, but they're heavy this time around, dashing for him.

Jake’s head swivels back and forth, searching for where to run, where to hide. It's so fucking stupid, because the chances of him getting kidnapped or mugged are low, but he can't ignore the goosebumps marring his skin. Can't ignore the panic.

There's another wail, then a sharp hiss. It's coming from behind him, so Jake sprints ahead.

Jake races down the lowly lit sidewalk until something heavy crashes into the ground, shaking the earth. 

Jake staggers, his boots slipping on snow in the process. He trips, elbows bumping into and scraping against the pavement. Pain erupts beneath his skin, hot and wet. Red stains his jacket sleeve. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Jake hears another disturbing screech and fears for his life.

He leaps to his feet, ignoring the way his left ankle sharply twists. The screams intensify, surrounding him. He stares at the other sidewalk across the street, his intuition yelling at him to run.

Jake does, rushing into the road in seconds. The shadows ahead balloon, clawing at his feet, and Jake’s heart trembles. He's fucking terrified.

Fright immobilizes him, and things go horribly awry.

Headlights abruptly blind Jake. He doesn't get a chance to react before something barrels into him.

Pain, intense and agonizing, spreads across Jake's limbs like wildfire as he flies. Asphalt tears into his flesh when he slams against the ground.

Jake can't move, no matter how hard he tries. His bones are broken and he's in so much pain, and he can't speak. Something wet and sticky trickles out of him.

Jake can't see well, bleary eyes nearly taped shut, but he can feel the blood gushing on and on, smearing his face.

Something shrieks up ahead, muted. Maybe it's Sunoo, though Jake doubts it. Sunoo shouldn't see him like this, mangled, hurt and afraid.

Jake is so afraid. But as seconds pass by, his condition seems less frightening. 

Am I going to die? The voice in his head asks, distant. 

Jake doesn't get to hear a response. Pitch black is what he sees next.

***

a/n: thoughts so far?