Seventeen

                                    

                                          
Mingyu's so tired; not only is he trying to survive his finals, he has a whole research paper to write, and his brain is close to giving up on him. He can feel his muscles twist inside him, his bones ache, and his heart race with every cup of coffee he takes. It's a bit concerning, because he's going back to his destructive type of coping mechanisms. What happened on the day he discovered his father's doing, he's been trying to forget about it with ways that make his insides coil and crumble.
Today was worse, however. He had two exams with only three hours of sleep, which is a requirement for himself because he can't function without at least recharging for a short while. Then, after the exams, he had a presentation about rocket science to freshmen who will use his lecture as start to their final projects, that will mostly last for hours, from after one to three in the afternoon. And overall, his accumulated sleep for the past two weeks was six hours, and the sleep he got before the exam is included in that number.
So, Mingyu could pass out at any moment, falling to the arms of fatigue at any minute, but Mingyu forces himself not to mind the black spots that shows up on his eyes and the way his fingers shake from the overworking. He goes on with his day, the lecture comes smoothly, surprising himself and his professor, who is watching from the back of the lecture hall, that he endured through it despite the bags under his eyes and paleness of his skin. Mingyu also managed to walk home, but slower than usual because the dark spots on his eyes darken at every few steps.
When he gets home, toeing his shoes off at the front door, he suddenly has the urge to just sleep there on the floor. But Mingyu remembers that Seungcheol has his soccer team over for a pizza party, and he doesn't want to make a scene.
He steps inside the living room and he sees Seungcheol standing with two slices of pizza on his hand. He looks at the layers and layers of pizza boxes, stacked on the coffee table. Seungcheol's team mates were rowdy, which made Mingyu feel sicker, but he didn't want to show it, because he always liked their presence; but maybe now is not the time.
"Mingyu! Come eat with us!" Seungcheol shouts, mouth full of pizza. The whole team looks at Mingyu and they smile brightly, suddenly shouting a floury of 'Gyu! Wattup bud?' and 'duuuuude.'
Mingyu just shakes his head no. "I'm okay. I'll cook myself some soup. I don't feel good. I think I ate something bad."
Seungcheol gives him a confused look. "But you didn't eat a thing today. And you never pass up on pizza." Seungcheol walks towards Mingyu, standing on front of him. "Are you sure you're okay?" He had sad eyes and Mingyu would appreciate how permissive his best friend is, but right now, he just wants to be alone.
"I'm okay, Cheol. I ate something before I left campus and maybe that's the reason why I don't feel so good." Mingyu fakes a smile as he drops his bag on the dining chair.
"Okay. I'll leave you to it then. Take medicine if you need, yeah?"
"I'm not a child, Seungcheol."
"I know, but sometimes you are." Seungcheol smiles and goes back to his team mates, and Mingyu just rolls his eyes.
He changes into his usual pajamas, loose shirt and his plaid pajama pants, steps out of his room to walk to the kitchen. He decides to just make basic seaweed soup for himself, just soothe his aching insides, and maybe a warm cup of chamomile tea to fulfill the name of being an obnoxious hipster. Mingyu was about to turn to grab a knife so that he could cut some onions when he feels a worst case of vertigo and sways. He tries to keep himself balanced, his palms on top of the kitchen counter. When his vision clears, and the floor doesn't look like it's sinking, he finally grabs for the knife to go back to his cooking. He starts to cut the onions aimlessly, his mind going elsewhere, as if he isn't actually cutting the onions. He feels his body go into a state of white noise, and only snaps out of his trance when he suddenly sees a pool of blood on the cutting board. Mingyu drops the knife on the table and looks at his hand, seeing some skin pilled off badly. He stares at it for a while until his vision goes fuzzy and the last thing he remembers is falling and a call of his name.