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1985- The City Streets
A night off. Finally.
Five men walk down the street, loudly chatting and laughing. They had just left one of the bars further into the city and were taking in the cool city air. The sun had long set but clouds filled the sky, obscuring any stars that may have been able to peek through the city’s light polluted skies.
“You think Seonghwa and Hongjoong can really handle the bar all by themselves?” Yeosang asks.
“I’m sure they’ll manage,” Yunho says, throwing an arm over Yeosang’s shoulder and squeezing him. “Hongjoong and Wooyoung used to do it alone back in prehistoric times!”
“Shut your whore mouth,” Wooyoung sticks his tongue out at Yunho, who did nothing but laugh at his reaction.
It had been difficult when Yunho and Mingi were first turned but just as Seonghwa and Hongjoong told them, once they all got to know each other, they were inseparable.
“I needed a break tonight,” Mingi stretches his arms out until he feels a satisfying pop in his back. “It’s been too many nights of hunching over a typewriter in addition to working the bar.”
“Oh I’m sure all that dishwashing is damaging your ability to type,” San teases him.
“I actually think it is,” Mingi pouts. San pushes him with a laugh and they continue walking.
“Besides it’s a Sunday night,” Yunho says. “How bad could it-”
He cuts himself off. His feet feel glued in place as his eyes train on the body slumped over in the alley way. Ahead of him, the others turn to look at him in confusion.
“What’s wrong?” Wooyoung asks. Yunho simply points into the alley way.
Wooyoung takes a step back in surprise and the others come back to look as well. Slumped on the ground was the bloodied body of a man none of them knew. The five of them freeze before Yeosang steps closer.
“What are you doing, Yeo? Get back here,” San whispers.
Yeosang just lifts a hand up and walks closer to the body to inspect it. Two puncture wounds lie on the man’s neck and his skin is deathly pale. His chest no longer rises and falls. Yeosang presses his fingers to the man’s wrist and waits.
“Is he alive?” Yunho asks.
“He has no pulse,” Yeosang says. “In fact I don’t think there’s any blood left in the guy.”
“No blood?!” Mingi says, shocked. “Does that mean-”
“Vampire,” San concludes.
Yunho wipes at his face in disbelief. “Holy shit… That’s intense.”
“No it’s sloppy,” Wooyoung says. “This is so 1875.”
All heads turn to look at Wooyoung, baffled. Wooyoung shrugs.
“What?! We used to do shit like this when I was a fledgling.”
“I can’t imagine that you would’ve done something like this,” San says.
Wooyoung scoffs. “Well none of you have ever had to hunt for your own food, now have you?”
“Okay grandpa, we get it. You had to hike uphill both ways,” Mingi rolls his eyes.
“Very funny,” Wooyoung says, scrunching his face up mockingly. “But, honestly, no immortal in this city is so careless.”
It was true. They themselves had a steady stream of blood donors and suppliers from one of the city’s blood banks to keep them afloat. It was common practice amongst nearly all of the immortals in the city at this point, and had been for decades. So common, in fact, that even San had never witnessed a feeding like this before.
“Who do you think could’ve done it?” Yeosang asks.
“It must have been a fledgling. He clearly can’t control himself,” Wooyoung says.
“Or he’s just fucked up,” Yunho says.
“Or that I guess.”
Several blocks away and several hours later, night nurse at Utopia Memorial Hospital, Choi Jongho wakes up in a start, covered in blood. His heart begins to race, weak as it is, and his breaths come out in short bursts. There’s a sinking feeling in his now uncomfortably full belly.
He practically rips the clothing off his body and burns them in his small fireplace. Another pair of scrubs down the drain. In a panic, he scrubs at his skin in the bathroom, sobs racking through his body. He refuses to look himself in the eye through the mirror.
He knows he’s done something horrible. Something he can’t fix.
He spares himself the quickest glance and regrets it immediately. The blood is mostly washed away at this point but his eyes are back to their usual dark brown. In the past he would’ve been happy to see it but he knows that it’s the result of bloodshed.
His new life began two years ago and has only recently become truly unbearable. It was pitch black out, no earlier than 3 am. He left his night shift early, for reasons that no longer seemed important, when he was accosted by a man he’d never seen before. There was a struggle and a blinding, piercing pain. Jongho doesn’t remember what happened after that. He woke the next morning, very similar to his current state, bloody and overly full. He dropped his phone the second he saw the two puncture wounds in his neck. There was no one he could call for help.
Despite being a rather logical man of 25 years, he didn’t delude himself. He knew what he’d become.
It took him a little while to get into a new rhythm. He could keep working his usual night shifts but he had to practice extreme discipline when he came into contact with blood, which was unfortunately often. Eventually, when his stomach began to feel hollow and the discipline he prided himself on became too difficult to keep up, he learned how to steal bags of blood without getting caught.
This worked well… for a time. Until his anxiety over stealing blood became too much for him to handle any longer. Perhaps it was foolish, but as soon as he finished the last bag, he decided he would take no more. Instead he substituted the blood supply he had been using for over a year and a half with red meat and other iron rich foods. His body continued to weaken and soon he was resorting to draining animals to get through a shift. It wasn’t enough and even more, the guilt of killing a living being took a massive toll on him.
He left his night shift feeling dizzy one night, a month into going cold turkey. He blacked out, doesn’t remember a thing, and woke up just as he had the day he was turned. Turning on the news, he was horrified to hear that a body had been found downtown under Hala Bridge, drained of its blood. A fresh wave of shame and disgust hit him like a ton of bricks.
That was a month ago. And another month with no blood, apart from the small practically raw steak that he had been scarfing down like an animal every day. He shakes his head as he puts on a fresh pair of scrubs.
How long could he keep up such a thing? How long until he got caught for murder? How would he survive in jail? Or perhaps, rather, how would anyone else survive with him in jail?
Those are the thoughts weighing heavy on his mind as he heads out for his shift, feeling healthier but guiltier than he had the night before.
4 am
“What did Seonghwa want again?” Mingi tries to remember.
“A Yoohoo,” Yeosang said with a shake of his head.
“Oh right,” Mingi nods to himself.
“I don’t know how he can drink that stuff,” Wooyoung says, sticking his tongue out.
“That’s because your palette is from the dinosaur days,” Yunho teases, stepping out of the way to dodge Wooyoung’s slap.
“Stop doing that!” Wooyoung whines.
“How is your 60s palette any better than his?” Yeosang asks. “You like poptarts.”
“You just don’t understand good taste,” Yunho shakes his head as the bell above the door of the convenience store goes off.
The five of them enter as a group, heading straight for one of the coolers in the back. They navigate the store with ease despite it only having been open for about a month. With their items picked out and paid for, they settle onto stools at the counter built into the front wall of the store.
Yeosang stirs his ramen before glancing at the man next to him. Sitting in his scrubs, he lazily pokes at his own ramen, lifting it a few times but lowering the noodles back into the cup each time. He can’t be much younger than Yeosang was around the time he was turned by San and Wooyoung.
Yeosang averts his attention quickly when the man catches him staring absentmindedly. He dares another look back to find the man staring at his ramen once again but making no move to eat it.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare,” Yeosang says quietly.
The man looks at him in surprise but shakes it off. “Don’t worry about it.”
Yeosang nods, slurping his noodles again. The man next to him continues not to eat.
“Not hungry?” Yeosang asks before he can really think about it. He groans in his head for talking to a guy he barely knows that really doesn’t seem in the mood for conversation. It doesn’t help when the guy looks like Yeosang just shook him out of a deep sleep.
“What??” he asks.
“I… I just noticed you weren’t eating your ramen,” Yeosang gestures to his food.
The man looks back at his cup again like it holds eldritch horrors beyond Yeosang’s imagination. He shakes his head slowly.
“I just… I guess I’m not very hungry.”
“I see,” Yeosang says. He’s not sure what else to say. Hell, he’s not sure why he even started the conversation. He continues anyway. “Are you a nurse?”
The man nods. “I’m a trauma nurse at Utopia Memorial.”
“Nice…” Yeosang says awkwardly. “I don’t think I could handle working in an ER.”
The man cracks a little smile. “You never really get used to it but it gets easier to handle.”
“I can imagine,” Yeosang says, relaxing his shoulders. He hadn’t even realized how high up they had gotten.
“I’m Jongho,” the man says.
“Yeosang.”
“So, Yeosang, what are you guys doing out so late on a Thursday?” Jongho asks, looking back at the rest of Yeosang’s coven.
“We work at The Golden Room,” Yeosang explains. “We’re used to being up and out pretty late.”
“I see,” Jongho nods. The Golden Room… Utopia’s top gay bar. “I’ve heard of that place. Never been though.”
“You oughta come by some time!” Yeosang smiles.
Jongho smiles bitterly but nods anyway. “I work night shifts. I don’t think I’d really be able to.”
There’s truth to it, but it’s really just an excuse. Ever since Jongho was bitten, he hasn’t spent much time with anyone other than himself. Sure, he’s cordial at work but he stopped allowing himself to form relationships shortly after his life got flipped upside down.
What’s the use when you know you’ll outlive them all anyway?
But he couldn’t help but enjoy his conversation with Yeosang. He hadn’t realized how much he missed just talking to people. How much he hoped that he’d see Yeosang again, even if he knew he’d be the only one hurt in the end.
“Well if you ever have a chance?” Yeosang throws out.
“Definitely!”
A lie.
“Yeosang, we gotta head out. Seonghwa will flip if we don’t get home before 5,” Yunho calls out to him.
“He only cares about the Yoohoo,” San mutters.
Yeosang sighs, nodding, before turning back to Jongho. “It was nice to meet you!”
“You too,” Jongho smiles.
With a wave Yeosang leaves. Jongho watches them disappear around the corner and a pit in his stomach aches with a loneliness he had forced himself to ignore for two years.
One Month Later
Over the course of the month, Jongho finds himself back in the convenience store more often than he cares to admit. It certainly has nothing to do with Yeosang and the fact that he and his friends have also continued to come back frequently.
Not at all.
But honestly, how can he stop walking closer to the fire when Yeosang talks to him like a human. Like he’s excited to see him. Like he came just for him. So he’ll let the flames lick at his face if it means he gets to keep seeing Yeosang, eventual heartache be damned.
He usually comes in with at least one other friend, and they eat ramen together until his friend tells him they need to leave. And Jongho returns home, suffering from a withdrawal of human interaction and lack of nutrition.
He was cold turkey again and the practically raw steaks and eggs just weren’t cutting it. Not like they ever really did.
He could see his skin getting paler and his hair getting drier. His eyes looked swollen and tired. Anyone who knew him would be able to tell that something was wrong. But no one asks. No one comments on it. Even at peak health he walks through the hospital like a ghost. He does his job, nothing more, nothing less.
But at the convenience store, after almost a full month of getting to know him, Yeosang looks at him in shock. Jongho was reaching the end of his rope. A month of starving himself has caught up to him and he’s moments away from blacking out and waking up sickeningly full in his bed covered in blood.
He looked dead.
“Are you okay?” Yeosang asks, concerned.
Jongho’s eyes take a second to focus on Yeosang. He’s alone, which Jongho takes note of. There’s nothing but concern and care behind his eyes and if Jongho was in a better state, he would blush from the attention. Instead he nods, grunting out something he hopes is reminiscent of an affirming noise.
“You oughta go to the doctor,” Yeosang says.
“I am the doctors.”
“You know what I mean,” Yeosang sighs. “You haven’t looked well all week and now it’s even worse.”
“I know,” Jongho says, flopping down onto his usual stool at the countertop.
“You should go home and rest. Take some medicine and drink some tea. Take a day off.”
Jongho nods. His head is fuzzy. His tongue feels dry and his joints ache in a way he’s become more familiar with in the last few months. He knows he’s close to losing control and he needs to get home.
Yeosang sighs. “I can’t stay long tonight. But I wanted to come see you. Make sure you’re alright.”
Jongho nods again. “Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.”
Yeosang leaves but Jongho doesn’t let him out of his sight. He doesn’t realize he’s outside until he’s reached the street corner, Yeosang still up ahead. A cold feeling crawls up his spine and he fights to stay in control but he’s too weak to hold on. The fogginess takes over his brain and suddenly Yeosang is no longer his Yeosang.
He’s food.
Up ahead, Yeosang walks quietly through the night. It’s not a long walk to get to the convenience store, but it’s enough for Yeosang to clear his mind. He loves his covenmates but they can be a bit much at times (especially the two he’s bonded to).
But tonight, something is different. He swears he can feel eyes on him but every time he looks back, there’s no one in sight.
“Two more streets up and one to the right,” he whispers to himself over and over.
He starts to hear the footsteps, but sees no one still. He picks up the pace. The footsteps get louder, quicker. Still there’s no one behind him. Then, suddenly, the noise disappears but the feeling of someone lurking sticks with him.
He turns around fully and jumps back. No less than a foot away from him, Jongho stares at him, eyes wide and red. He pants and Yeosang notices the cagey way he shifts his weight from foot to foot. The shake of his hands as they twitch at his sides.
“Jongho?!” Yeosang stares back, wide eyed. “What are you doing?”
Less than a second later, Jongho is on him, pulling him into the closest alley. He slams Yeosang’s back against the brick and dives for his neck. Yeosang shakes out of his shock and holds him back, yelping.
Jongho has fangs. His eyes are red. He was currently at an arms distance from Yeosang, snapping at him like a rabid dog. Jongho is a vampire, just like the rest of them.
A part of Yeosang gets excited by the new information until he realizes that even though he’s already turned, he could still be in danger. He’s never seen a vampire like this. Bloodthirsty and entirely out of control. He has no idea what Jongho is capable of in this state.
But he knows someone who might be able to help.
Mustering every ounce of strength he can, Yeosang wrangles Jongho into a phone booth about 10 feet from the alley. He continues to hold him just far enough away as he dials the number for The Golden Room.
“Hello?” a voice grumbles.
“Hongjoong, I need your help.”
The Golden Room
It took three of them to wrestle Jongho back to The Golden Room, which was thankfully already closed for the night. In their living quarters, they deposit Jongho in the red room, locking the door before immediately jumping into action.
Yeosang grabs a couple bags of blood from the reserve fridge and rushes back to the room. Jongho is still growling and yelling. He thrashes on the couch where Yunho and San are trying to hold him down. At the sight of the blood bags, he gets harder to hold down.
“WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR!?” Yunho yells and Yeosang rushes over, opening the top and shoving the bag into Jongho’s mouth.
His screaming is cut off as his eyes widen and then slowly soften. His muscles relax and he squeezes at the bag, draining it of every last drop. As soon as the first is gone, the second is handed to him. It continues until he’s sufficiently full. Like his body had finally caught up to all of the extra energy expenditure he’d put it through, he fell back into sleep almost immediately.
After Yeosang assures them all that he’ll be able to handle Jongho once he wakes up, the rest leave them alone. Yeosang brushes hair out of Jongho’s face and lets out a long breath. He already looks better than he did an hour ago.
“You really scared me there,” Yeosang says. “Maybe it’s better that you tried to stalk and drain a vampire instead of a human.”
He doesn’t leave him that night.
When Jongho wakes up in the late afternoon, his eyes open blearily. He blinks a few times as the room comes into focus. This was not his apartment. Instead he woke up to red lined walls and a soft satin sofa underneath him. He had no idea where he was but what he did know was that he felt full, but not overly so.
But he had no idea what happened the night before. When he finally notices Yeosang, it does nothing to help his confusion.
His mind gains control of his body once again and he begins to breathe heavily as he tries to sit up. The movement causes Yeosang to stir from whatever slumber he had managed to get on the floor. He’s fully awake when he sees Jongho’s wide eyes.
Yeosang hurries to his feet and puts his hands out gently, as if he were coaxing a frightened animal. “You’re safe.”
“Where am I?!” Jongho panics, looking around the room for any hints about what might have happened last night.
“The Golden Room,” Yeosang says.
Jongho’s brows furrow. He hesitates but asks the question he’s not sure he actually wants the answer to. “Why?”
Yeosang knew he would have to explain what happened but it didn’t make it any easier. He wasn’t sure how Jongho would react. He sits down next to Jongho and sighs.
Better to rip the bandaid off.
“Do you remember going to the convenience store last night?” he asks.
“Vaguely.”
“I talked to you last night. Told you to go home and take some medicine,” Yeosang starts.
Jongho doesn’t respond, just nods along.
“I made it a few blocks down the road when you tried to attack me in an alley.”
He doesn’t look at Jongho, but through his peripherals he notices Jongho tense up. Jongho stays silent, other than the sharp breath he takes through his nose.
“How long have you known you were a vampire?”
Yeosang can practically feel the thrum of Jongho’s heart accelerate.
“2 years,” he whispers.
Yeosang nods. “If it makes you feel better, it gets easier.”
Jongho gives him a confused look.
“I was turned in 1926… By Wooyoung and San,” Yeosang finishes.
It makes sense, really, that Yeosang is also a vampire, considering the fact that Jongho didn’t just fully kill him. But the confirmation breaks a floodgate Jongho never knew he had. Tears prick at the corner of his eyes.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
Jongho had never met another vampire. He hadn’t even known the vampire who sired him. The insinuation that there may be an entire community out there that he never knew about is enough to put him into a state of shock.
“How did you get to this point?” Yeosang asks.
“What do you mean?”
“Blood thirsty.”
“I couldn’t keep doing it.” Jongho admits. His guilt had felt insurmountable for so long.
“Doing what?”
“Stealing blood from the hospital. Draining animals. I guess my body can’t survive on raw steak for long…”
“Are you alone?” Yeosang asks, shocked.
“Of course I’m alone,” Jongho says exasperatedly. “Have you ever seen me with another person?!”
Yeosang is taken aback. Jongho sighs, deflating again.
“I’m sorry,” he shakes his head. “It’s just hard being thrown into a world you already know in a body that’s familiar but also not at all the same anymore and having to learn how to live again. But this time, you’re by yourself.”
“You don’t have a coven?” Yeosang asks.
“What the hell is a coven?”
Yeosang doesn’t even know where to begin. “What about your sire?”
“Who?” Jongho looks at him with wide eyes.
“The vampire who turned you.”
“I don’t know the guy. He was gone by the time I woke up in my bed.”
Yeosang stares at him silently. Jongho feels anxiety ripple over his skin before he’s trying to rip it from himself. “What?!”
“You’ve been all alone this whole time? No one taught you how to be immortal?” It’s a statement more than it is a question. A whispered truth that’s come to light.
Jongho nods.
Yeosang places a hand on Jongho’s lap. They look into each other’s eyes quietly for a few minutes before Yeosang speaks up once again.
“Would you like to join our coven?”
The Golden Room, 2025
“Jongho, could you take this guy’s order?” Wooyoung calls him.
“Sure thing,” he replies, bumping his hip into Wooyoung to make him stumble.
“YAAH!” Wooyoung narrows his eyes at the now grinning Jongho.
“What can I get for you?” he asks the customer as Wooyoung steams behind him, holding down the tap more aggressively than before.
“You’re a brat.”
“Sorry, can't talk right now,” Jongho throws over his shoulder. “I’m with a customer.”
Wooyoung groans, finding Yeosang’s eyes on the floor and beckoning him over to the bar. Yeosang points to himself and Wooyoung nods.
“Yes, my love,” Yeosang says.
“How dare you butter me up just the way you know I like,” Wooyoung pouts.
Yeosang shrugs with a smile and Jongho chuckles.
“Remind me again why you had to hire Jongho?” Wooyoung asks. A joke obviously. But a joke that nevertheless forces Jongho to drop an icecube down the back of his shirt when he slides past him to grab a bottle of vodka. Wooyoung yelps and slaps Jongho who remains entirely unfazed.
“He’s special,” Yeosang smiles and Jongho’s hands hiccup as he measures out the vodka.
“He’s special, alright,” Wooyoung mutters, rolling his eyes.
“You’re not making fun of Jongho again, are you Wooyoung?” Seonghwa asks, walking over to the bar and resting his elbows on top.
“Wha-!” Wooyoung’s eyes pop out of his head as he begins to bicker with Seonghwa and eventually Mingi who popped over to join in.
Yeosang and Jongho make eye contact and laugh, Jongho rolling his eyes at Wooyoung. He had finally found his new home, amongst a group of people like him. People who took care of him and helped him learn how to forgive himself for the carnage he’d left in his past. He found the life he was supposed to live for the rest of time.
And it was thanks to the cute guy he met at the convenience store.