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“Jin! Jin!” Taehyung screamed, pounding on the door. It shook so violently he thought he could snap it open, knock it right through its lock so he could escape.
There was another shout, another yelp.
“Seokjin!” Taehyung sobbed. His fists were sore but still he slammed them against the door. “Don’t hurt him, please!” He tried to kick, but there wasn’t enough room. His calves hit the shelves behind him, but pain meant nothing to him. After what they’d been caught doing, Taehyung feared this might be it – this might be the day their dad crossed the line, hurt Seokjin past the point of no return.
Today might be the day Seokjin died.
“Let me out,” Taehyung begged. “Don’t hurt him, don’t hurt him!”
The scuffle made its way into the hallway. Something heavy dragged along the ground, and Taehyung wailed, fearing the worst. He shouted again, sobbing hysterically.
A fist slammed against the other side of the door. Taehyung fell back against the shelves, knocking a box askew. It fell against him, then to the floor with a crash.
“Tae,” Seokjin croaked – still alive.
“Don’t you fucking talk to him,” their dad snarled, and Seokjin squealed in pain.
“Please,” Taehyung begged, but his cries went ignored.
The two went down the hall. The front door opened. Their dad shouted something. The door slammed shut. Feet stomped back down the hall. The closet door flew open.
The moment Taehyung’s eyes fell upon the vile man before him, a rage sparked up within him, consuming him whole. He threw himself at his dad, fists pounding against his chest. He tried to go for the face, but a hand shot out, grabbed his neck, slammed him against the shelves.
Taehyung choked and struggled, fingers scratching deep into the man’s arms. Despite spending all days sedentary in front of the television, the drunkard’s grip was shockingly tight. Taehyung thrashed, trying to kick him but only managed to knock another box free.
“You disgusting piece of shit,” the man growled. “Did you two really think you could get away with that under my roof? Huh?” He shook Taehyung by the neck.
Fear replaced anger as the strength slipped out of Taehyung’s arms. He whimpered as they fell limp to his sides. Blackness edged in around his vision. Was this what Seokjin always felt? Was this what Seokjin had gone through his whole life?
The pressure around his neck loosened, and he gasped for precious air. His dad didn’t release him, but the threat of strangulation still loomed too close for comfort, so Taehyung stayed still.
“I knew that rat was a bad influence on you,” the man spat, the heavy scent of alcohol hitting Taehyung in the face. “That disgusting – faggot – pedophile – “
Taehyung tried to shake his head. No, that wasn’t Seokjin. Pedophiles were predators, and Seokjin was anything but that. They loved each other – it was real.
“He corrupted you – always knew he would.” His dad finally released him, but the look of pure contempt didn’t soften.
“It wasn’t him – I – “
“Shut the fuck up.”
Taehyung whimpered and fell silent. Seokjin was still alive. If Taehyung followed his father’s instructions, he would be able to run away. Seokjin was probably waiting for him.
“Stay in here,” the man growled with a sneer of disgust. “I’ll figure out what to do with you later.” He slammed the door shut, leaving Taehyung in darkness.
The lock clicked, and Taehyung let out a sob, leaning his forehead against the door. Such a wonderful night – such a perfect weekend –
Taehyung clenched his hands, the engagement ring digging into his skin. It wasn’t over. He’d escape in the morning. As soon as his father let him out, he’d make a run for the door. He’d find Seokjin. As long as Seokjin was able to survive the winter night on his own.
Don’t think about that, Taehyung told himself, squeezing his eyes shut. He’ll be okay. He is okay.
Crying pitifully, Taehyung pushed the mess on the floor to the side and did his best to sit amongst it, leaning his head onto one of the shelves. The heat of adrenaline evaporated, leaving him chilled in sweat. He wrapped a towel around himself, shivering, whimpering, terrified.
Somehow Taehyung managed to fall asleep. His dreams enveloped him in a sick, twisted reality so convincing that he didn’t realize the door to the closet had actually opened until rough hands yanked him up.
“Wake up,” came his dad’s rough voice. “We’re leaving.”
“Leaving?” Taehyung mumbled, his head lolling as exhaustion refused to release him. “Leaving where?”
“Your grandmother’s house. You’ll be staying with her for a while.”
A grandmother? They had a grandmother? Taehyung blinked furiously, chasing away the sleep. It was morning, a dim blue light filling the windows, nearly drowned out by the yellow of the hallway lights.
Morning. His plan.
Taehyung gulped nervously as his dad walked down the hall. He waited...just a few more steps…
Once the man walked in front of the opening to the living room, Taehyung bolted, swerving around him –
But his was faster than Taehyung anticipated. His hand shot out, snatched Taehyung’s shirt, and slammed him chest first into the wall.
Taehyung gasped, the blow knocked the breath from his lungs. He was whipped around, slammed against the wall again.
“You think I’m stupid, boy?” the man snarled.
“No,” Taehyung said through his coarse throat, still struggling for air.
“You think you could just run out there, try to find your little pedophile?”
“He’s not,” Taehyung said, shaking his head. “Stop calling him that.”
“He’s a pedophile,” his dad said again, seething with pure disgust. “You’re lucky all I did was kick him out. I could have called the cops. Do you know what they do to pedophiles in prison? Do you know that they’re everybody’s bitch? Is that what you want?”
Taehyung whimpered, shaking his head furiously. “No, no, don’t – please.”
“Then behave.” The man waited a moment, then released Taehyung and jerked his head to the door. “Come on.”
“C-can I get my coat?” Taehyung asked, his voice barely a whisper. “I won’t run. Promise.” There was no doubt that the threat to call the police was legitimate. He couldn’t let that happen to his brother.
After his dad waved his hand, Taehyung rushed to his bedroom. He grabbed his coat and phone. After a short pause, he snatched up his blanket, then ran back down the hall.
The air outside held a sharp chill. Every breath stung Taehyung’s lungs and sent out a cloud of condensation. Had Seokjin managed to find shelter before freezing to death?
The drive was long and uncomfortable. Taehyung sat in the backseat behind his dad, slouched down so he couldn’t see him in the mirror. The occasional sob still came to him, but they were short-lived as he forced himself into silence. He kept his eyes out on the side of the road, dreading seeing his brother lying dead on the sidewalk, until they left their neighborhood. No sign of Seokjin.
There were no messages on his phone. Taehyung stared at its black screen waiting for it to light up. Seokjin didn’t have his phone, but maybe he went to Yoongi or Jimin’s house. He could get a text from one of them at any minute.
The radio droned on. The sound nearly disgusted Taehyung. It was too normal for the situation. He would rather sit in silence, let the minutes drag on in a way that suited the air around him. His father listened to the radio like it was any other day, like he hadn’t just torn Taehyung away from his one source of happiness.
Taehyung glanced out the window and frowned.
Terminal A, B, C, a sign read. The airport?
“Dad?” Taehyung hesitantly spoke up, shrinking back in case he received a blow in return. “Where does Grandma live?”
“Far enough that your brother won’t be able to hurt you anymore.”
He doesn’t hurt me. Taehyung held his blanket tight. You’re the one who hurts me. He stayed quiet and confused until they parked and made their way inside. He checked his phone again. There was still no message. Hopefully Seokjin would send him one before he had to board the plane.
The phone was snatched from his hands.
Taehyung instinctively tried to grab it back from his dad, but the man pushed him back, scowling at the phone.
“Where did you get this?”
“It was a gift.”
His dad pursed his lips. “You’re too young to have a phone.”
“I’m not – “ Taehyung cut off with a gasp as his phone was carelessly tossed into the garbage. His dad continued walking, looking entirely unperturbed by his actions. Taehyung peered into the deep can. The weight of the device had caused it to slip down amongst the trash – a litany of papers and partially eaten food.
None of that mattered. He had to stay in contact with Seokjin. Taehyung grabbed the edge of the lid but barely lifted it an inch before his dad jerked him back.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” the man seethed, leaning close.
“I – I – “ Taehyung stammered, tears forming in his eyes. “My phone.”
“Do you want me to call the police?”
“No, please!”
“Because it sounds like you want me to call the police.”
“I don’t,” Taehyung said, unable to stop himself from crying again. “I’m sorry. Please – please don’t.” They walked off again, leaving Taehyung’s phone behind. Every step away from it was like torture – he’d lost his lifeline. What if Seokjin tried to get in contact with him and Taehyung didn’t respond? What would Seokjin think?
In the line for the ticket counter, Taehyung tried making eye contact with the strangers bustling around them. If one of them saw him crying, maybe they could see that something was terribly wrong. Maybe they could look into his eyes and know what was happening, and they’d try to save him.
But if anything happened here, his dad would just call the police on Seokjin.
Taehyung quickly turned his eyes to the ground, muffling his cries in his blanket. It wasn’t like anyone was going to pay attention to a crybaby, anyway.
When his father purchased his ticket, he said Taehyung was fourteen. Fourteen. The bastard never cared about him, but somehow he managed to surprise Taehyung.
The security line was long, twisting and winding through the loud hall, full of tired parents and crying children. Taehyung fit right in.
“All right, son,” his dad said as cheerily as could be. Taehyung glared at him, mustering up as much contempt as possible. “Once you scan your ticket, they’ll be sending over an escort to keep you safe on the flight. And to make sure you get on your flight,” he added in a softer, yet somehow more threatening tone. He laid a hand on Taehyung’s shoulder. It may have looked friendly to an outside eye, but the grip was strong enough to make Taehyung wince and let out a whine of fear.
“I’ll be good,” Taehyung said. “I promise.”
“Good. Your grandmother will call me once you arrive, so I know you’re safe.”
Like you care about my safety. Taehyung forced a smile, though tears were still occasionally slipping down his cheeks. “Okay, thank you.” He pulled back and quickly stepped in line before his dad could grab him again.
The escort was nice. Almost too nice. He could tell Taehyung was in distress, but he kept assuring Taehyung that planes were safe, as though that were the source of his tears. He didn’t know, couldn’t possibly understand, what Taehyung was really going through.
Taehyung had once thought that tears had a limit. There were only so many a person could produce before they all dried up. That wasn’t the case. His eyes managed to stay tearful for every hour he spent on the plane. All he could think about was what Seokjin would do when he realized he couldn’t get a hold of Taehyung. Yoongi and Jimin wouldn’t be able to, either. No one would be able to help Seokjin get a hold of him. For all Seokjin knew, Taehyung was dead.
And for all Taehyung knew, Seokjin could be dead as well. Taehyung squeezed his eyes shut, freeing even more tears. He couldn’t let himself think about that. It was only for a few days. Maybe a week or two. Then Taehyung would be back home. He didn’t care that he’d be back in the same house as his monster of a father, because at least he would have Seokjin again.
Another escort met him at the gate of the new airport. She wasn’t quite as friendly as the last one, with her eyes glazed over from exhaustion. That was okay with Taehyung, though. He didn’t want to bother with any attempts at small chat.
When they got past the security gates, Taehyung looked around. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, though, since he had no idea what his grandmother looked like.
A sign stood out to him in the crowd. Held by a short, elderly woman, it was written in Korean. His parents had never bothered to teach them Korean, but he knew the alphabet enough to recognize his name. Taehyung pointed at the woman, and the escort led him over. They spoke for a few minutes to confirm that she was, indeed, Taehyung’s grandmother. She smiled at Taehyung, and Taehyung looked away with a defiant scowl. She may be his grandmother, but she wasn’t his family, and that made Taehyung hate her.
The ride to her house was just as uncomfortable as the ride to the airport. Taehyung was tired, angry, sad, all the emotions in the world, and now he was sitting in a car with a complete stranger, the radio once again droning on as painfully normal as it should.
“Are you hungry?” his grandmother asked. Her voice was frail, matching her small frame. Maybe she was weak and unwell. Maybe she was already at death’s door, and Taehyung wouldn’t have to deal with her for very long.
Taehyung refused to speak. If she realized that he hated her, she would send him back quickly.
“What sort of food do you like? We can get some traditional Korean food, if you want. Or a burger if you prefer American food.”
Again, Taehyung stayed silent. He even clenched his jaw, making it obvious that he was purposefully ignoring her questions.
“You look tired,” she said, unbothered by Taehyung’s defiance. “Maybe you’ll feel better after a nap. Goodness knows I need one.”
Taehyung rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. How could he sleep when he couldn’t snuggle up in the arms of the man who loves him more than anything else? The mere idea of sleeping alone made Taehyung sick to his stomach.
Thankfully, she decided to drop the subject, letting Taehyung wallow in his own thoughts again.
Yesterday morning, he and Seokjin had been preparing to come back home. If only Taehyung had protested a little harder, convinced Seokjin that they could run away together, then they wouldn’t be in this situation. Taehyung made a mental note to give Seokjin a big ‘I told you so.’ Because Seokjin was okay. He had to be.
The car pulled onto a small street with only a few quaint houses. They were small, but looked comfortable, unlike Taehyung’s home.
“What’s going on here?” his grandmother muttered to herself as they pulled up to one of the houses. A police car was sitting in the driveway.
Taehyung’s heart clenched and his body went cold. His dad hadn’t called the cops, had he? Taehyung didn’t want to think it was true, that somehow that vile man would actually keep his word, but it was more likely that he’d just lied to make Taehyung obey.
Piece of shit.
Taehyung held his blanket against his chest as his grandmother went to greet one of the policemen who’d gotten out of the vehicle.
“Can I help you?” his grandmother said, her voice muffled by the car.
“Yes, actually, we’re here to do a wellness check on a boy named Taehyung Kim?” The police officer leaned his head over to look at Taehyung, who shrunk back into his seat. “Is that him?”
“What is this about?”
“Like I said, wellness check, ma’am. Someone said he might be in trouble, and we want to make sure he’s safe.”
Taehyung furrowed his brow, trying to puzzle out why his father would think he was in trouble, unless…Taehyung gasped as it dawned on him. Seokjin was okay and sent the police to check on him. Yes, that had to be it. There was no other explanation.
“Ah, yes,” his grandmother said, motioning to Taehyung in the car, “don’t worry, he’s made it here safely. His father and I have gotten him out of a bad situation, so he’ll be much better now.”
The comment brought Taehyung right out of his epiphany excitement. Had his dad told her what he’d walked in on? Taehyung felt sick. He didn’t want anyone else to be under the assumption that Seokjin was a pedophile. They were wrong.
“Do you mind if I speak to him?” the policeman said, motioning to the car. “Alone?”
Taehyung groaned in frustration as his grandmother nodded and waved for Taehyung to get out of the car. He did so reluctantly, but he figured it was in his best interest to comply. After all, he wanted Seokjin to know he was okay.
“Hello there, son,” the man said as his grandmother headed to the house. “How are you doing?”
Taehyung shrugged, feeling shy in the man’s presence.
“I just wanted to check in on you, make sure you’re okay. Do you feel safe?”
Taehyung nodded, fidgeting with his blanket.
“You sure? Kinda looks like you’ve been crying.”
For a moment, Taehyung contemplated telling him about what happened to Seokjin, but that ran the risk of them finding out about their relationship. “I’m okay,” Taehyung said. “We just got back from the airport, and I’m afraid of flying.”
The policeman smiled warmly. “I hear you there. I’m always ready for those things to fall right out of the sky.”
Taehyung forced a smile but couldn’t maintain it for more than a few seconds.
“But, it’s good to hear that you’re doing well.” The policeman nodded towards the front door. “Better head in before your grandma starts worrying.”
“Thank you,” Taehyung mumbled before rushing inside. His grandmother was waiting in the living room, looking anxious.
“Everything okay?” she asked. “I wonder what they were doing here. I told your father I’d call him once we got home.”
Taehyung shrugged, falling back into his resolve of not speaking to her.
“Well, you’re here, and you’re safe,” she said with a nod. “That’s what’s important.”
Taehyung snorted at the stupid comment. The only thing important was that Taehyung was pretty sure Seokjin was alive and safe if he was able to ask for a wellness check. Nothing else compared to that.
“Come on, I’ll show you to your room,” his grandmother said, motioning down a hallway.
Taehyung followed her, hugging his blanket against his chest. His gaze traveled along the photo frames that lined the walls, pictures of his grandmother and an elderly man, probably his grandfather. There were older pictures of a young girl at a festival, of dogs standing happily on a porch, and a simple family photo.
Taehyung came to a stop with a gasp. The family photo hung by itself on one section of the wall, with his grandmother, his mother, and a young child that had to be Seokjin. He was young, maybe only a year or two old, but his distinctive smile was impossible to miss, even on a baby. He hadn’t been sure if his grandmother had been his mom’s mom or his dad’s, so at least this cleared up the confusion.
“That was a long time ago now, wasn’t it?” Taehyung’s grandmother mused quietly. She’d come up beside him to admire the picture. “A lot has changed since then.”
Taehyung shrugged, forcing himself back into stoicism. He turned away from the photo, feigning disinterest while making a mental note to steal it off the wall in the night so he could admire it a little more.
There were a few more pictures of Seokjin along the rest of the short walk to the bedroom. It pained Taehyung to walk past them without a closer look, but he just had to be patient.
“Here you are,” his grandmother said, opening a door. “It’s not much, but it’ll do.”
‘Not much’ turned out to be a small room not much bigger than the one Taehyung had shared with Seokjin. Instead of his own artwork on the walls, some traditional Korean artwork decorated the room. On the bed, a large, lumpy package sat with a bow set on top.
Taehyung frowned, easing himself into the room and over to the bed. He looked back at his grandmother with a questioning gaze.
“Your birthday just passed, didn’t it?” she said. “That was supposed to be your first birthday gift, but…” A look of deep regret passed over her face before she gave a forlorn smile. “I suppose sixteen years late is better than never.”
Taehyung almost laughed at the irony. His own father had no idea how old he was, and here was this stranger who somehow managed to know not just his age, but his birthday as well.
The paper around the gift crinkled as Taehyung sat next to it on the bed. The bow wasn’t tied to it, just placed on top, so he brushed it aside and started pulling off the paper. Inside was a handmade patchwork quilt. Taehyung held it up, admiring the handiwork. It couldn’t compare to Taehyung’s blue blanket, but it was beautiful, nonetheless.
“Thank you,” Taehyung whispered, finally breaking his silence.
His grandmother gave a pleased smile and rubbed her hands together. “Well, I would suggest you unpack, but it doesn’t seem as though you brought any luggage. Was your father planning on shipping some over?”
Taehyung shrugged. Like hell if he knew anything his father was planning on doing.
“Bah, forget him,” she said with a wave of her hand, making Taehyung smile. “We need to go shopping for a uniform for you anyway, so we’ll pick up some clothes.”
The smile quickly vanished. “Uniform?” he said.
“Yes,” she said. “You’ll start school next week.”
“School?” Taehyung said. Next week? He must have heard her wrong. “But – when do I get to go back home?”
“Your father didn’t tell you?” His grandmother huffed in annoyance. “Honestly, that man…He’s transferred guardianship to me. You’re going to finish up your schooling out here.”
Taehyung gaped at her, the breath rushing out of his lungs. No, no – No! That couldn’t be true, it couldn’t be. “You’re lying,” Taehyung said, standing up, hands clenching into fists.
His grandmother sighed softly, shaking her head. “I’m sorry you had to find out like this. I can’t imagine why he wouldn’t tell you.”
Taehyung growled, heat rising in his face. “You’re lying!” he said again, voice raising. “I’m not going to school here. I’m not staying. You can’t make me!”
All his grandmother managed to do was blink a few times at his sudden outburst, at a loss for words.
Anger filled Taehyung, the sort of fiery passion that he knew he couldn’t control. It scared him, but he was already over the point of no return. He couldn’t go back? Couldn’t see Seokjin? Couldn’t hold him in his arms, couldn’t cry with him, couldn’t feel the warmth of his love and affection?
Taehyung couldn’t live without him.
“I’m not staying!” Taehyung downright screamed, fingernails digging into his palms. “I want to go home, I want to go home, TAKE ME HOME!”
“I-I’m sorry, Taehyung,” the frail woman said, her voice trembling. Taehyung felt a sick surge of satisfaction watching her take a step back in surprise. “I can’t do that.”
“Yes, you can!” Taehyung shouted. Somehow his body managed to produce even more tears as he started to beg. “Please, don’t make me stay. I just want to go home – I want to see Seokjin again.”
“No – no.” His grandmother’s voice turned stern. “I love Seokjin, I truly do, but he is not the sort of person you want to be around. It’s for your own good.”
“No, it’s not,” Taehyung wailed. “I want to see Seokjin. Please.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Fuck you!” Taehyung screamed, making his grandmother gasp in surprise. “Fuck you, you stupid fucking whore, you don’t know shit about Seokjin!”
“Taehyung!” She stood as straight as her elderly body could manage, steeling herself against Taehyung’s verbal abuse. “If this is not a perfect example of his bad influence on you, then I don’t know what is.”
“He’s not a bad influence on me,” Taehyung said through gritted teeth. “You don’t know anything. You’re stupid, and I fucking hate you. I hate you!” He grabbed the closest object in range – a decorative tea kettle on the dresser – and threw it against the wall. It shattered into a thousand pieces, raining shards onto the carpet.
To his surprise, the action didn’t seem to phase his grandmother. She looked sad, and disappointed.
“You’re just like your father.”
The words cut Taehyung deeper than anything had before. They hit deep into his core, rattling his bones, making him gasp in shock.
Without saying anything else, his grandmother left, shutting the door behind her.
“I’m not like him!” Taehyung screamed, his voice burning in his throat. He stomped over to the door and flung it open. “I’m nothing like that piece of shit,” he screamed again into the empty hallway. “Stupid cunt, you don’t know anything about us.” He slammed the door shut. Unsatisfied, he opened and slammed it shut a few more times before spinning back to his room.
The rest of the tea set on the dresser begged for him to destroy it, so he stomped over and did just that, swiping a hand across the surface and slamming them against the wall. The teacups shattered just as easily as the kettle had. Next, Taehyung grabbed one of the framed piece of art on the wall and threw it against the wall on the other side of the room. The frame snapped, the paper inside tearing.
He couldn’t stop. He never could. A frenzied energy radiated through his body, making his fingers tingle with the urge to grab things and tear them apart, to pull the drawers from the dresser, knock the whole thing down, and destroy another piece of artwork.
Taehyung knew he had a problem. Afterall, if he was perfectly normal, he wouldn’t be destroying everything in his path. Yet even after all that, he knew he was better than his father.
At least, that’s what he told himself.
Taehyung threw himself onto his bed and began screaming into his pillow. He screamed for so long and so hard that he would probably start coughing up blood. He was scared. Without Seokjin around to comfort him, Taehyung didn’t know if his episode would ever end. He would be stuck in a rage until he managed to kill himself. He’d never had an episode without Seokjin there to help, no matter how bad Taehyung got.
Despite his fears, the episode did finally come to an end. The sun had already set, and there was the smell of food wafting through the house, but it made Taehyung’s stomach turn.
Taehyung sniffled, pulling his blanket to his lips, brushing the soft material against them. Everything else from the bed, including the blanket his grandmother had made for him, was strewn across the floor.
A knock came at the door. Taehyung tried to tell her to go away, but barely a single breath could make its way out of his cracked, dry throat.
“There’s dinner in the kitchen if you want any,” she said through the door. She left without trying to come in, thankfully.
Taehyung whimpered, massaging his neck, hoping to rid himself of his sore throat, but it was useless. All he could do was curl up in the darkness, weeping beneath his blanket.
He might as well sleep. Maybe when he woke up, he’d find that his anger had upset his grandmother so much that he would be sent back to his dad’s house. Yes, that’s what Taehyung had to look forward to.
But of course, he couldn’t sleep. Not without Seokjin. Not in this unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room. He squeezed his eyes shut, pretending he was visiting Jimin or something, and that’s why everything was different and that’s why Seokjin wasn’t there.
Nothing worked. The longer Taehyung tried to sleep, the more he started to panic. His heart was racing, breaths short and frantic. He couldn’t sleep – couldn’t sleep – not without Seokjin.
Without thinking, Taehyung shoved his thumb into his mouth. He started to suckle instinctively, eyes closing as he focused on the oddly comforting sensation.
He hated how good it felt. What sort of sixteen-year-old still sucked his thumb?
Taehyung, apparently.
This time Taehyung couldn’t cry anymore. He’d finally dried up all his tears. He probably would never cry again for all the crying he’d done that day. He hated it. Hated himself for crying. For screaming. For destroying things. Hated how he didn’t know what to do – He was lost.
As the idea of never seeing Seokjin for two whole years brought his panic to a full broil, a weird weight started settling down on him. It came down harder and harder until his brain turned sideways within his head. He stopped crying, stopped moving. He tried to, but nothing happened. All he could do was lie there in silence, terrified and alone, locked inside his own head.