Way Down We Go (BTS fanfiction)

c h a p t e r 1

c h a p t e r  1

The bell that seemed to have taken years to ring, echoes through the school as I walk straight to my chained up bike. The end of the school year was more of a blur than a thrilling third year, having been doing the same thing for months, the excitement of the school year ending has never really hit me. Fixing my backpack, I hear whispers from behind me as I hop on my bike.

Guys don't bike, they drive. I don't know what happened before I was born but it seems as if it's a priority for men to start driving and working at the age of 16. Seeing women swoon over men with nice black cars doesn't bother me, especially when those same women talk about a 17 year old boy riding a bike he found outside his neighbours yard.

You could say that almost every guy my age has started working. By working, I mean joining a gang, if they were qualified, there's no such thing as office workers or male accountants. They disappeared faster than the president's accountability which was non-existent from the beginning.

Based off my recent discoveries, gangs own different cities, expanding their authority as they please. They're what's left of the government and control, and being able to live in the city of a gang is a privilege.

I've never seen one in person but I'd like to think that I've got enough information to make a full report on them.

Biking through the gloomy neighbourhood, I reach my house, in between two abandoned houses where I also just so happened to find this bike. It's not stolen if no one came to get it back after a year, right?

Tucking the bike in between the steps and some dead bushes, I jump onto the porch. Creaking open the door, I smoothly take off my sneakers and head straight upstairs. I would lounge around in the living room but the quietness reminds me that this house is completely empty. An empty house means that I'm completely vulnerable to roaders and it wouldn't bother me so much if my brothers weren't part of such large gangs.

My room. There isn't anything special in it or about it, it's just a bedroom. A bedroom that makes me feel safe and surrounds me with reassurance that I can get through another night without being attacked.

"Hyung Suk to Haneul, Hyung suk to Haneul, do you copy?" the sound of the walkie talkie interrupts the silence.

"Copy," I say holding the walkie talkie to my mouth.

"You finally said it right," he sighs in relief on the other end. "-Uh, so how was school?"

"Same as always."

"How can I mentally experience the thrill of school if you keep telling me it's the same everyday? The last time you told me some proper info I imagined going to the bathroom six times and now I imagine that everyday."

"That's your problem, not mine."

He sighs once again, his nasally voice evident. You could say he's one of my only friends, I don't know what he looks like, nor do I want to know. I don't exactly know where he lives but since I can talk to him through this walkie talkie, he shouldn't be far.

Sticking a towel in the gap beneath the door, I lock my door and cover the length and width of the door with tape. I'm not trying to kill myself, I'm protecting myself. Our front door and almost every door in this neighbourhood doesn't have a lock. They've all been stolen.

It's the weekends that usually rev up the curiosity of when and how these locks got stolen but buying one seems useless as the roaders don't seem to target the same house twice. I've only had one encounter in my life where a roader had decided to use my house as a perfect place to initiate their thieving escapades.