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↳ ❝🫐 [chapter 11] ¡! ❞🥃
JUNG HOSEOK HAS ALWAYS BEEN ASTREET RAT. From when he stole keychains at 9 to when he robbed a convenience store just for the hell of it at 19. He's done a lot of bad in life and he hasn't made up for it in good.
With a drug addict for a mom who would've probably sold him for a line of coke and a deadbeat for a father who didn't even both to show up to his birth, Hoseok's had to survive on his own for the majority of his life. He was making his own food by 8 with the little scraps that he did have in the kitchen or whatever he had shoplifted.
Now he was all grown up, still surviving on his own. After years of violence and sadness, he's making his way to the top, pulling himself out of disparity.
But his past still holds on to him, anchoring him by the ankle to the bottom as some sick reminder of the shit hole he came from. In quite a literal way too.
Now he visits the man whose life he had ruined, a constant self-reminder of why he wasn't anywhere near a good person.
Yoongi lived on the outskirts of Center City in a decent apartment on the third floor. Hoseok had been up there plenty of times, coming in to check up on the older and make sure he was okay. He always insisted that he was fine and didn't need to be babysat like he isn't a 28-year-old man.
Hoseok stands outside of Yoongi's building, waiting to get buzzed in while the city goes on around him, loud horn honking, sirens, the sound of some dude calling some other dude a dickhead. Philadelphia, for the city of brotherly love, everyone here was a fucking asshole to each other.
He had his hands shoved in the pockets of his jacket, shifting his weight between his feet while he awaits. What the hell was taking so long? It was late in the afternoon, the sun was already disappearing behind the horizon, casting the sky in a mix of red, orange, and pink. Yoongi should long be home now. He doesn't go anywhere besides work.
Finally, the was the ringing, and then the automatic click of the door as it unlocked. He knew Yoongi was home.
Hoseok pulled open the door and made his way inside, through the lobby, and towards the stairs which were always so exhausting to climb. This apartment manager needed it to invest in a fucking elevator.
Yoongi's apartment was number 305, down at the end of the hall on the left. Hoseok's feet moved without thought, they already knew where to go.
He approached the door and lifted his hand to knock on the door in 3 firm raps while his eyes scan down the empty halls. Hoseok had a habit of checking his surroundings wherever he went, especially when he's in an area with only one exit. Call it paranoia or self-preservation instincts, but Hoseok would rather be paranoid than be dead on the floor.
