The-Crazed-Writer

"I have to use the bathroom," Jaejoong deadpans as soon as he crosses the threshold of the dorm and heads to the bathroom, leaving his band mates staring at him oddly. Picture frames containing paintings of boring landscapes rattle as he slams the bathroom door behind him; one falls from its rusty nail and Jaejoong can hear glass shatter. Voices murmur in the kitchen. He sits on the edge of the bathtub and sighs, wondering why he even came to Seoul in the first place. Why did he he leave his family, only to sell chocolates and bubblegum outside of a supermarket in order to pay his rent? Why did he come to this big city just to fulfill a drea

Beep...beep...beep... The repetitive beeping was the only thing that mattered to Kim Jonghyun. It'd been the only thing keeping him sane, keeping him from yelling and screaming, for the past few days. As long as there was beeping, he would be alright. Beep...beep...beep... He hadn't left the hospital room since it had happened, he couldn't leave. He was stuck here, forced by the beeping noise that meant everything to him to stay where he could still hear it. He'd slept here, he'd eaten here, he'd gotten his college work sent here, all to stay within range of the noise. It's soft tones lulled him to sleep at night and woke him up every morn

"Jinki sunbae!" Lee Jinki spun around to see someone running towards him. He then recognized Kim Kibum, a boy that was two years younger than him, yet was in the same grade as him due to recently skipping over fourth and fifth grade. He hadn't talked to the younger boy that much, so he couldn't figure out why Kibum would be running at him in such a hurry. "Hi Kibu- ouch!" Kibum ran into him at full speed, knocking the wind out of his lungs for a couple of seconds. "He's trying to steal my money, sunbae! Help!" the younger boy yelped and clung to Jinki's arm. "Who?" Jinki asked while trying to pry Kibum from his arm. Even through the sleev

"Can I help you?" "Account number, please." "Have a nice day!" A low murmur of voices rang throughout the spacious lobby of the Japanese bank. Some belonged to the tellers, dressed in sharp clothing while standing behind their little glass windows; some belonged to the people on the other side of that window, impatient and wanting nothing but to get whatever they needed and get out. Because in reality, nobody liked going to the bank. Nobody enjoyed standing in the long lines, waiting to get some money from their accounts or deposit some money, or whatever else they were there to do. And those voices, the voices that drilled themselves into

"Taemin...where are you?! Taemin!" Taemin's eyes snapped open.  His dreams had been confusing and filled with unfamiliar faces, some staring at him silently, some speaking to him. The ones that had been speaking were drowned out as if they were far away, though they appeared to be right in front of him and were obviously yelling, their voices reduced to a mere whisper. Taemin couldn't recall what their words had been. Sunlight streamed through the open window. A warm breeze flowed into the room, carrying the sounds of the city along with it and blowing the plain curtains from their usual place. He could hear voices from the streets below, a