This had to be the lowest you have ever been mentally in your life. You were extremely depressed, living pay check to pay check because your drug addiction had finally caught up to you financially. You were shaking from the withdrawals, hands trembling without anything coursing through your veins.

It was getting to your head, you started shutting people out, becoming more irritable to the people you kept around. One such person was Nam-gyu. You don't know why you were keeping him around, but you were. He came over once a week, bearing new stories from the club. It was nice to take a break from worrying about your own problems. Even if just for a few hours. But it was never enough to pull you out of the hole you were sinking into.

Today was no different. Like clockwork, Nam-gyu came to your door, grin on his face. You looked disheveled, like an absolute wreck. His eyebrow raised with concern as he looked around your apartment, which was also a mess. Not that he was one to judge people's cleanliness, he wasn't the best at it either, but he was concerned for your well-being. The two of you sat on your couch and that's when he noticed something on the coffee table. A razor blade covered in blood.