lost boys | jeongcheol

|savior|

"There's no such thing as good money or bad money. There's just money."
-Lucky Luciano

- 2 -
|savior|

My attacker turned towards the man and smiled, "Oh, hey Seungcheol."

He spoke as if nothing were wrong, as if he hadn't just punched a kid in the face and smashed his phone.

"What are you doing here?" He asked and smiled, making me so beyond pissed that I was almost visibly shaking. Then again, maybe it was because I was sitting on cold cement with a fucked up face.

The other man, Seungcheol, seemed like the type a guy who would start a fight with someone just because they looked at him the wrong way. He seemed like he could back up his harsh exterior, too, like he'd been fighting his whole life. There was a clear difference between the low life who beat me up and the man who'd come to save me, and I was hoping that difference would be enough to get me out of that goddamn alley.

"Shut up, dumbass. I should be asking you that." Seungcheol scoffed and stepped forward. He was face to face with the man who'd probably dislocated my jaw and I hoped the same would happen to him.

They stared at each other with an underlying hatred in their eyes that sent chills running down my spine. There was history there, a relationship deeply rooted in the past. Maybe they'd even been friends at some point, but regardless of how it used to be, now it just seemed like they'd kill each other if they had the chance.

I glanced around, trying to find a way to escape before a fight broke out. I definitely didn't want to get caught in the middle of that, expecially not considering the way their hands were clenched at their sides like it took all the willpower in the world to keep themselves under control.

"I was just taking a walk." My attacker said through clenched teeth, forcing a smile and pretending I wasn't even there. It was pathetic. He couldn't even own up to the fact that he was a cunt who beat up the most vulnerable looking people he could find.

"Look, I don't care if you wanna hang out here and get drunk but don't do shit like that." Seungcheol gestured towards me with a neutral expression. No guilt, no sympathy, just general annoyance. It was like he owned that alleyway and I was just an inconvenience to him simply by being there, sitting on my ass with tears brimming the corners of my eyes and blood dribbling from my nose. I was just trash to him, but I guess I couldn't complain. To others, you're only a reflection of what you see in the mirror, and all I've ever been able to see is a pile of trash with decent hair.

"Look, we were just messing around. Things got a little out of hand." It was like the man was apologising to his dad for scratching his car or something, like I was just an object he'd accidentally broken. He didn't care about what he'd done, but he didn't want to get in trouble either, so he swallowed his pride and lied his way through it.

"That's a little out of hand to you? You dented his face, dumbass." Seungcheol scoffed and finally glanced down at me, locking his stone cold eyes on mine for a moment before he tore away and frowned.

I did the same and fidgeted with the watch on my wrist, a nervous habit I'd picked up over the years. I'd stolen it from a client a while back after he overdosed in a hotel bathroom and although I could have sold for a decent amount of money, I kept it as a sort of reminder. Messing with it in stressful situations took me back to that miserable night. I knew if I could get through that, I could get through anything. It was strangely calming, to say the least.