Crossed Hearts | Stray Kids Royal AU Fanfic

The future

Zolan= Chan
Seyvon = Minho
Lynx = Felix
Ronan = Jisung
Yann = Jeongin
Syrex = Seungmin
Prince Zayyan = Hyunjin
Drystan = Changbin

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During the first war, at the line between Atorvenna and Atterra

"Zolan! Join us for a drink!" Drystan raised his chalice in air, filled to the brim with the finest wine the kingdom has ever tasted.

"Shouldn't we celebrate after we win the war?" Zolan took a sit next to Yann on the ground.

The latter stole a glance at him before sinking his gaze into the red liquid in his cup.

"Consider this a promise that we will thrive. They are the ones that will fall at our feet."

"You better have this energy tomorrow on the battlefield, cousin." The prince laughed.

Next to him, Lynx and Ronan were frighteningly quiet, like two gargoyles guarding him from left and right and never leaving his sight. Zolan couldn't wrap his head around those two. They were as mysterious as they could be. A riddle to be solved.

After emptying the cup, Zolan saw Seyvon getting up to fill it again with a smile on his face.

"I won't carry you to the tent, to be clear." He joked.

"Then you shouldn't give me more of your wine."

On the surface they seemed a close group of soldiers, ready to defend one another. However, if you were to be among them, you would have seen how distant and cold were to each other. None of them wanted to be there, isolated from their normal lives and forced into throwing their lives on the line for the crown.

The only two that seemed close were Zolan and Seyvon. They were the oldest and the most ambitious of them all. Always training together, drinking together at Otto's bar and always fighting side by side, even keeping score and making a competition. Both hard-working and came from similar environments. Seyvon was with no doubt the only one Zalon had ever considered a friend. The moment he lost him, something inside him died.

Year 2022, New York

"Minho! Annother drink for the lady."

"Minho! These lovely ladies want you to dance for them."

"Minho!"

"Minho!"

"MINHO!"

The barman smiled and nodded as if he didn't have two veins pulsing under the skin of his red forehead.

He aggressively cleaned the glass in his hands and went outside to take a deep breath. The music vibrated to his skull and the drinks kicked in pretty fast.

He was half drunk, half dead and perfectly able to work another shift by himself just to get his hands on that extra cash.

The only drug he needed. Money. Well-deserved hard-earned money.

He hopped twice to hype himself up, then went back in, taking every request one by one. Nothing was too much. From making the most insane and illegal liquors to putting up a show on someone's lap. He'd done it all. The angel of the cript, the one and only competent employee there.

Minho was most likely the only reason people were frequenting that place. The food was miserable, there were better bars around, but none of the bartenders were crazy enough to mix alcohol with pills at a costumer's request.

Minho was the definition of desperate. He would have sold his soul for a couple of greens. That made him the main attraction. What greater amusement for the rich is then to see the pour demeaning themselves?

"Minho, take a break, man. You're overworking yourself. When was the last time you slept?" his co-worker saw the huge dark circles under the man's eyes.

"Sleep is for the weak. I still have another 5 hours here. Then two hours until I get home. Then I can rest."

He was so focused on his work that he didn't even spare a few seconds to look at his acquittance. His answer was robotized. Prepared, like he had been rehearsing the same words over and over again in case someone would bother tell him to sit down.

To say he was beautiful was with no doubt an understatement. He was a rare view. His jaw sharp like the broken glass and his nose could cut the air. His eyes were small and delicate, hooded and charming with a mysterious dark void as the irises. His cheekbones were higher than his raise and his wet caramel hair covered his forehead, leaving room for two perfect eyebrows.