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[HIATUS] I hate how much I love you

Chapter Text

 

Yoongi knew life wasn’t meant to be easy.

After two years of living his life on earth, his step brother was born.
And he knew, that this would ruin his life even further.
Sooner or later.
Because his brother was loved by their father.
And Yoongi wasn’t.

After his parents ended their relationship, his mother moved on the countryside with Yoongi.
Always telling him how important he was and how much he was loved by her.

But one hot day in August, when it was rainy and a thunderstorm was hanging over their village, a small boy was standing at their front door.

Yoongi eleven, the boy ten, telling him and his mother, that he was Yoongi’s little brother.
And while Yoongi’s mother was calling people, both boys sat in the living room in front of the small tube television, watching a cartoon.

Or at least Yoongi was watching the cartoon.

Kim Namjoon was watching him.

After a while Yoongi frowned.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Kim Namjoon smiled brightly when Yoongi said his first full sentence to him.
“I never saw a picture of you! Daddy never wanted to tell me anything about you. I was so excited to meet up. I wasn’t able to sleep the night I drove here.”

Now Yoongi was looking at his younger brother.

Yoongi was young, but not too young to know, that his father was ashamed of him.
A kid born out of wedlock.
A shame for his successful father.

But Namjoon was different.
His father now married, the younger brother had his last name.
He’d reach his goals in life.
Yoongi was sure.

Because even now, Namjoon was a person with so much charisma.
A small child which held the world in his hands already.
Yoongi was envious.

But at the same time he wasn’t the one with such weight on his shoulders.

“You are really cute!”, Kim Namjoon had said out of nowhere.
His eyes flickering over the elders face.
Yoongi always thought he was ugly.
Hiding his face behind his hair, his mother only cutting it short from time to time so they wouldn’t get too long.

“Stop talking nonsense.”, he had said, looking back at the cartoon and waiting for the people to arrive, who’d pick up Namjoon.

When someone knocked on their door, Namjoon stood up by himself, smiling at Yoongi one last time and said, “I’ll protect you, big brother. You don’t need to worry.”, before he walked towards the door.

Yoongi didn’t look after him.
The words of a ten year old child meaningless for him.

After all the years, Yoongi still wasn’t able to forget Kim Namjoon.
The younger boy never came back to their home.
Never sent letters or gave any hint that he was still thinking of Yoongi.

Namjoon’s words still without any meaning.

Not until Yoongi’s 22nd birthday.

His mother cried a lot around that time.
At first Yoongi thought because of their poor life circumstances. 
Maybe she just had a hard time.

But when he came home from work one day, a couple of people he didn’t know, waited for him.
His mother sitting at the kitchen table, looking at Yoongi with sorry eyes, until someone bashed his head with so much force,
Yoongi lost consciousness.

The next thing Yoongi knew was him breathing heavily, his oppressive head inside some bag, the ropes around his throat making it hard to breath.
A muffled, “He’s awake.”, reached his ears, before someone helped him to stand up.
His hands tied together, his legs heavy and the hand which grabbed him forcefull.

He was pushed forward, running into walls, stumbling when he missed a step.
The people behind him giggling like little kids.
At first Yoongi had thought he could fight, but he had no clue where he was.
And he wasn’t stupid.
So he waited anxiously.

He didn’t remember to make himself any enemies.
So he had nothing to fear, right?

The moment he stepped through a door, everything went silent.
He was wondering what was about to happen next.
When then he heard it.

The announcer.

“The next object- Number 39. Cold beauty.”
The men snorted.
“Who wrote those fucking moderation cards?”

A few low chuckles were heard and when Yoongi was forced to stop walking, feeling hot out of nowhere and someone fiddling with the rope around his throat, he started to get scared.
Object? Where was he?

And when the bag was dragged from his head, Yoongi squinted his eyes.
Big spotlights taking the sight away.
He tried to turn away from the bright light, but he was forced to look at the brightness.
After a while his curiosity won and he pried his eyes open.

At first he didn’t see anything.
But then he spotted them.

Men.
In suits.
Sitting on neatly laid tables, glasses of drinks besides them.
Some seats empty already.
Some men quite old.
Some pretty young.
And it dawned on him.

He was on the black marked.
The one, kids on his school had always talked about.
Yoongi only listening, always laughing internal at their stupidity.

But at this moment he thought- maybe, maybe Kim Namjoon would keep his words.
Maybe he meant this when he told Yoongi years ago not to worry.

Maybe he didn’t need to worry at all.
Because who’d pay money for a small and starved out boy.
But his hopes wavered when the announcer asked,

“I guess we’ll start with 50,000 for this one, what do you think?”