Chapter Text
“Yeonjun, can you please take out the trash once I finish up?” his mother called. Her voice tired.
Her steps were noisy as she ran around picking up any scattered pieces of trash she could find around the house.
She abruptly paused and slowly turned towards her son, who was still focused on the screen. “Fine, I'll just do it myself, like I do everything else in this house.”
Yeonjun, finally noticing her presence, took his headphones off. His eyebrow quirked in question.
“No, no, continue your little games,” she spoke, her tone venomous. “It seems like everywhere I clean, you guys just follow by dropping even more trash.” She scolded.
Not this again.
The random sarcastic comment made to make him feel guilty for something he did.
Like he was summoned, her husband walked in as soon as she was going through the mess at his desk. The boy held his breath as his father walked past him towards his mother.
He tsked as he leaned against the wall. “Well, excuse me, some people don’t have the time to be out here playing a fucking maid while they’re busy working to keep a fuckin’ roof over your head.” He spat.
“Work? You haven’t been able to keep a job longer than a month for the past two years. I've had to pick up shifts at the diner near that bummy shopping center.” She retorted, shoving past him as she made her way to the kitchen.
“I’d watch your tone around me. The bills get paid, no?” The dad yelled at her, following her around as she collected the trash bin.
“Yeah, barely. Don’t act so high and mighty like you single-handedly pay them on time every month. Lord knows if it were up to you, we would’ve been paying as late as possible or been on the streets by now! You’re always out there wasting your money on god knows what.” She replied. She turned around so she could shove the trash bag into his arms.
He glared at her before he begrudgingly walked outside.
His return was later marked with more yelling. It was almost like he rehearsed his argument while he was out. Their volume escalated as he followed her into the bedroom.
Yeonjun turned away from the scene. He sighed as he put his headphones back on, effectively muting the screams.
He jumped at the muffled sound of a vase shattering, most likely another one of his dad’s forms of intimidation, before resuming his attention back to the TV.
He had spent years enduring the mess that had become, well, always had been his family.
Countless nights of angry screaming and the sound of something being thrown had become usual for him, but today, something felt different.
The routine started the same. His father finds a dumb excuse to yell at Yeonjun for, which leads to the usual argument with his mother.
His mother didn’t necessarily care much that he was yelling at her son she just hated whenever he tried to take control over the house.
She came from a messed-up home herself and quickly learned to become independent.
Her dad shared the same misogynistic behavior as her husband. The only reason she married Yeonjun’s father was due to her parents’ demands; it was her or her siblings.
Deep down, Yeonjun believes she holds some resentment towards him because of this, blaming him for trapping her into this life.
Not much, but it still comes out when she gets upset at him. He doesn’t mind it, though; he would probably be worse if he were forced into the same scenario. She still took care of him and tried to make up for both sides as much as she could. Yeonjun tried his best to help around as much as he could, though.
He sometimes would still envy mothers who believe their child is a gift from god, made to make them as happy as possible. Yeonjun didn’t seem to be anything more than the product of a messed-up system.
She sacrificed so much for him, and he couldn’t love her more for that.
He held no love, or in fact, any emotion for his dad.
At first, he thought he loathed him, but at some point, he realized everything just felt… numb while looking at him.
His father was an older man, working to get his master’s when he met his mom. She was around Yeonjun’s age now. He was an employee at the same company as her father, and he quickly stood out to him.
At first impression, he seemed like a smart and successful man destined for greatness, so it wasn’t quick before Yeonjun’s grandfather proposed the idea of arranging a marriage with his eldest daughter.
Yeonjun’s mother was a bold vixen, often catching anyone’s eye, so the arrangement was heavily supported by the thirty-year-old.
They were already married when his father started to show his true nature. It was around the time his father was let go from his grandfather’s company.
Yeonjun always believed his father to be a bit... antisocial. He didn't seem to have any long-term friends as he would find a way to screw any of them over; his misogynistic views ruined any relationship with his wife, and he often got into violent altercations with strangers over petty reasons whenever he and his wife went out.
He believed in the idiotic idea that men are better than women in all aspects. He thought that women should be seen, not heard, lucky enough for him his wife didn’t want to talk to him more than needed. He also believed men should be strong, dominant figures in society. He was always quick to excuse a woman’s achievement by instead focusing his praise towards ‘the men that got her there in the first place’. It was ironic he thought this way, considering he was a whole bunch of nothing.
Thankfully, he never got physical towards his mother, at least near him, but Yeonjun knew she could fight back if it ever came to that. It wasn’t like his dad was exactly fit, and his mother was strong for her size.
Yeonjun was around 6 years old when he realized that his father also didn’t look at him with the love you would expect a father to have towards their son. His father’s gaze felt distant, cold, and if you looked hard enough, you’d see disgust. It had been obvious that Yeonjun was nothing more than a waste of human life in his father’s eyes.
Yeonjun wasn’t your ideal son, though. At least that’s what most people thought at first glance.
He had no interest in any sport except for dance (in his father’s words: a hobby made for females), passed school with nothing higher than a C, dressed in alternative styles, and overall, he just looked feminine.
He didn’t have sharp features coming in like most boys his age, but instead had blossomed into something not far from a doll.
He had a strong resemblance to his mother, often being called pretty rather than handsome. While all the girls would sit around giggling about any interactions they had with the proclaimed ‘rebel’, none of them would actually dare to settle down with him.
It didn't bother him at all, though; in fact, he discovered early on that he didn’t have an interest in girls in the first place.
He wasn’t sure what he was necessarily interested in, to be honest. He didn’t stress it though, he figured he would find out with age and experience.
He bit his lip in concentration. His eyes shifted from one point on the screen to the other in seconds.
While he didn’t necessarily enjoy shooter games, he was really into GTA.
He enjoyed how close it was to reality, unlike all the other games focused on some intergalactic warriors or whatever shit baits people into buying it.
It was a simple game, just real-life crimes like theft and gang activity, but the freedom of being able to do these things, digitally, of course, excited him.
He enjoyed the rush of trying not to get caught by the police, interacting with random players, or completing whatever fucked up storylines the main playable characters had.
It might sound psychopathic, the idea of him enjoying these things. But in a life where he is forced to play nothing but disappointment in an already unhappy family, the idea of being so free to be able to do things was a thrill for him, even if it was just in a 3d world.
He straightened up as a gunfight seemed to be harder than expected. He grunted as the wasted screen appeared, signaling he had to repeat the heist.
He lazily muttered rushed ’ggs’ to his teammates before declaring he’d hop off for the day.
He threw his controller across the couch, no longer in the mood to play anything, or really do anything.
He gazed around the room, searching for any form of entertainment, but his eyes lingered on the shadows of his parents arguing in their room, the door slightly opened.
He tried to imagine a different life. Maybe in another life, instead of an arranged marriage, his parents met normally and fell in love. Perhaps a bookstore meet-cute?
Maybe in that life, instead of carefully tiptoeing around his father, he could rely on him instead.
He could have the picture-perfect life that seemed to be gifted to everyone except him.
His family could’ve been a perfect, loving, and happy home.
He hastily ripped his gaze away from their door. He couldn’t rewrite the past; focusing on what-ifs wasn’t gonna get him anywhere.
Instead, he learned to focus on how to create a better future for himself.
He’d always imagined life away from the pitiful reality he had.
When he would be old enough (and financially stable enough) to finally leave this place and build a new life for himself.
Most likely in the States, they were pretty open-minded, right? Sometimes these fantasies were the only thing that pushed the boy to continue in life, the internal promise to make it out.
Wait!
His eyes instinctively shifted to his dad’s car keys, dangling from the rack. An idea suddenly struck, pushing away any other thoughts. If he was able to leave with the car, he could easily just … run away.
Why wait for the future?
He had thought of running away before, on particular days when everything just felt like too much to handle.
At last, he had always been too chicken to do anything about it. He often settled on the same promise that tomorrow will be better.
But today felt different . Despite his plan being very short notice, just the thought of it filled him with a sense of hope.
He believed he could, if executed well, get away with it. Maybe this was finally his chance for a better tomorrow, no more hard-knock life for him.
It’s now or never, that’s what they say, right? The now distant screams proved that his parents still seemed very occupied with their argument, giving him the distraction he needed to make it out of the house.
He slowed his thoughts down; this would most likely affect his entire life.
Where would he go? How would he support himself? Would his parents look for him?
Well, probably not, maybe for the car, but not for him specifically.
That didn't stop a million questions from racing through the black-haired boy’s mind.
As much as he tried to be rational, the visual of having to live like this any longer flickered through his eyes.
The fear of coming home without knowing if his father was sober or not, combined with the regret his mother seemed to carry, she lived in what-ifs.
With a sigh, he lifted himself from the couch before he grabbed his father’s keys and rushed out of the worn-down house that never really felt like a home despite all his dreadful years spent there. It was nothing more than a roof over his head; he couldn’t even call it a shelter.
He made quick work of leaving the neighborhood. He tried to get as far as possible before any more second guesses filled his mind.
The farther he got, the slower the pounding in his chest seemed to get. He already succeeded in escaping. Now what?
Maybe he could try and make it to the States? It has been a dream of his for a while, but he couldn’t possibly be able to afford the plane ticket, let alone find housing. Maybe he’ll settle for a more progressive city in Korea. He was a few miles away from what used to be his “home”, driving past familiar buildings, when a new idea sprouted.
Without a second thought, he quickly pulled into the first parking lot he could find. He then pulled out his phone, he looked for one specific contact.
Soobin .
Soobin had been Yeonjun’s best friend since the younger boy moved from Ansan in middle school.
He was the only kid brave enough to talk to Yeonjun. The latter believed it was because he didn’t know of the elder’s reputation.
Soobin had tripped, and Yeonjun had been the prince charming unlucky enough to ‘save’ him. The younger had practically chased him around after that. Yeonjun was forced to simply deal with it.
And if Soobin told you that Yeonjun basically took him in after seeing how clueless he was, Soobin is a liar who couldn’t be trusted.
Since then, it has always been the two. Whenever Yeonjun felt unsafe in his own house, he would go home.
(Get it? Because the characters in Soobin’s name look like a house. Maybe Yeonjun should start his new life as a comedian, even if Soobin never laughed when he pulled that joke out.)
Soobin would know what to do, right? Despite being younger, Soobin was wise beyond his years.
It always seemed like he had a solution to all of Yeonjun's issues. Yeah, Soobin along would be a great idea! He shot out a quick, rushed text.
‘running away, come with? Please??’
Not much to it. It lacked any form of context.
It was short but got the message across, well, kinda. It’s not like he had much context to provide in the first place.
He only had to wait a few seconds before a series of replies tumbled in.
It started with a few stupid emojis that, in Soobin’s way, meant confusion before he decided to communicate like a normal human being.
‘???’
‘r u sure?’
‘I mean, I'll support u no matter what, but this seems sudden???’
Yeonjun let out a small, annoyed huff at his best friend’s concern.
This had been the surest he has been on anything. Even more than when he realized he definitely didn’t like girls.
Though it was just a harmless question, the text didn’t sit well with him.
Doesn’t Soobin know all he has to go through on a daily basis? The taller had spent multiple nights easing a crying Yeonjun after harder nights with his dad.
He had spent even more nights trying to beg his mom to let Yeonjun stay another night on days Yeonjun was too tired to deal with everything back at his place.
He should’ve known this might have been the best thing Yeonjun could do in his situation.
It’s not like he could go back anyway, if his parents realized that he was gone at this point…
He was too scared to think of what would await him if he came back.
‘please, binnie.’
‘I can't handle it anymore.’
‘but i don't wanna leave u’
‘Please?’
The elder desperately spammed. He had to do this, but he didn’t want to do it without the one part of his life that made him smile.
The typing bubble kept appearing before disappearing after a few seconds. It felt taunting in a way.
He knew it was delusional and selfish to think Soobin would pack everything up and leave just for him.
He waited for the response, a mix of embarrassment and nervousness growing in his gut. God, why would he ask Soobin?
His whole plan would be messed up!
Soobin was always a responsible person; he would probably snitch if he felt this truly wasn’t a good idea. Well, maybe not snitch, but it’s obvious Soobin wouldn’t go through wit-
…
‘be ready in 5’
Yeonjun’s jaw dropped comically wide before his face broke into a smile so big, he wasn’t even aware his cheeks could stretch that far..
He had forgotten to consider that the younger had a soft spot for him, even if he tried hard to hide it.
While he was an all-around softie to everybody, it was obvious to anyone that he was especially gentle with Yeonjun. Almost treating him like a kitten, he was in charge of.
He would probably follow Yeonjun into a zombie-infested town if asked.
He dotted on Yeonjun like he was the younger in their friendship. He acted like his calling was to protect Yeonjun as much as a freshly eighteen-year-old could.
After the initial wave of excitement had away slightly, he felt a tinge of guilt. Soobin wasn’t like him.
Soobin was raised in a loving, full home, his siblings doting on him since the day he was born. His parents made enough to live comfortably and made sure to always show up for their kids. Soobin’s kindness is a result of how well he was raised.
Isn't it too much? You can’t just ask someone to run away with you, even if it’s your best friend. Yeonjun would likely ruin Soobin’s chance at a good life.
He was smart enough to pursue any degree he wanted at any top league school he wanted, and live the life most parents wanted for their kids.
He shouldn’t waste it on following Yeonjun across the world.
‘junnie, stop getting in ur head, I'd prefer going with u than staying in this boring ass town without u.’
‘you’re the only sense of life and soul here.’
‘And if you leave, I dont find a point in being here anymore.’
A small smile crept onto Yeonjun’s face. It was shortly followed by a tinge of red crawling its way onto his ears.
While Yeonjun should’ve probably led Soobin into making a better choice for himself, he finally understands when people say love could be selfish.
Platonic love, of course.
He decided to store the guilt further into his brain and let himself live in the moment.
He was the one who asked anyways.
‘mind reader. howd u know i was doubting u? Yeonjun cheekily texted back.
‘i got magic powers.’
‘+ I know u, if u were rly confident in my decision, u would've replied immediately.’
‘you don't have it in you to shut up -^- and u have horrible self-confidence, sorry hyung.’
Soobin replied. The elder could see the other’s dimpled smile through the screen.
Yeonjun decided to ignore the diss and typed back a reply.
‘you know me so well ;)’
‘ew creep, ttyl ‘n seeya ^^^’
Huh. Like previously stated, Soobin knew how to solve any turmoil Yeonjun might have.
Maybe they were soulmates or something. Yeonjun wouldn’t mind being stuck with Soobin across lifetimes. Maybe god decided to show him mercy and simply sent Soobin here as his angel, a guardian of hope.
At the end of the day, Soobin was old enough to make his own decisions, even if they may not have been the smartest.
Anyways. A slight blush crawled across Yeonjun’s face. Soobin said he would rather go with him to lord knows where than stay in this town alone!
He didn’t even know why he got so giddy over this. I mean— It's not like he liked Soobin or anything. Maybe he just liked the praise, you know? Feeling important.
Soobin made him feel like he belongs, like he is more than a burden to be dealt with. He had been and will always be Yeonjun’s sanctuary.
He’d spent the past eighteen years of his life being nothing but an outcast. People took one look at him and felt sorry for his parent. The natural urge to feel wanted had grown larger than the average human’s. A few nice words were overdue.
Wouldn’t it be weird if he liked Soobin? Everyone acted like dating Yeonjun would be worse than getting sent to exile. It’s been constructed into his head that he shouldn’t curse someone by having feelings for them. It had been better for both their sakes that Yeonjun convinced himself that he just liked the way Soobin treated him.
He shrugged, that conclusion making enough sense for his brain to move on.
He pulled up Soobin’s address into the GPS, he had it memorized already, but better safe than sorry. He shuffled through Spotify before he put on a random playlist he made a random afternoon with Soobin.
The short but sweet memory of them shoved together on the bean bag in the younger’s room, Soobin lying on the other’s chest as they argued over what should be the vibe of the playlist, flashed through Yeonjun’s head as the first song began, a warm smile awakened deep inside me.
He let out a deep breath as he started the drive towards the younger’s house. He could get through it. They could get through it.
They didn’t have a singular plan except sticking together, and maybe that’d be enough.
Anywhere with Soobin felt like a place he could breathe.