heart of gold // t.k.

i.

"What am I going to tell her?" The boy muttered under his breath as he walked his bike down the shabby street, passing run-down storefronts and swerving around potholes. His dark hair hung around his eyes, and his ratty gray t-shirt was several sizes too big. The old sneakers he wore on his feet were a much darker color than they were supposed to be - and they were several sizes too small.

The boy's bike tire caught on a loose brick and he nearly pitched over, catching himself on the handlebars beside him. He cursed quietly, but loud enough for the old woman sitting on the curb to give him a reproachful look. The boy gave her an awkward smile and hurried off.

The boy's name was Jeon Jungkook. Today was supposed to be the day that he and his mother could have a proper dinner for the first time in at least a year. Jungkook had been looking forward to having real food, not just cabbage water and stale old rice. Maybe potatoes and chicken. Oh, chicken. Jungkook's mouth watered just thinking about it. He hadn't had good chicken in years.

But no, he had to go and fuck it up. He fucked everything up. Today was the day he was supposed to get paid from his job - his ex-job now. Jungkook sighed heavily, his mind still replaying the awful events of the day.

Jungkook's boss was an interesting man. He was middle aged, fat, and had a toupee that Jungkook was about one hundred and ten percent sure was fake. He was strict too, and the boy was always on his best behavior around him. One strike, his boss had warned him, and you're out.

Jungkook worked - well, had worked - at a florist. He loved it, even though it payed pathetically. It wasn't likely he'd get a job anywhere else, most business owners didn't want a "poor person" in their ranks. Somehow, Jungkook had landed the job. It was probably partly due to the manager, who seemed to took an instant liking to him. She taught him all about the flowers.

But his boss was a different story. He was big and intimidating, and he never really liked Jungkook. Today, however, was the day when he finally got rid of him.

Jungkook had walked into the florist that morning with the intention of doing great work and getting his paycheck. He and his mother had been saving up for weeks, and they were finally going to be able to have a nice dinner. But that day also happened to be the day when a rich, fancy couple came into the shop to buy flowers.

Jungkook had been polite, respectful, and followed every one of his boss's orders while helping the couple find the flowers they wanted. It was only when he was picking up the final bunch of roses when it went wrong. There had been a tiny rip in the bottom of the plastic keeping the water in, and it eventually ripped and spilled, all over the man's expensive suit and his wife's designer handbag.

Jungkook, in horror, had apologized profusely, offering to give them their flowers for free, which his boss, who was present, did not approve of. The couple had given Jungkook the dirtiest looks he'd ever received.

Once they had stormed out, free flowers in hand, Jungkook's boss had marched right over and grabbed the collar of his shirt. "What do you think you're doing, boy?" He'd shouted, right in his face.

"Water will wash out," the manager had said with exasperation. "They're just some spoiled rich people." She'd added, defending Jungkook.

"But you gave them flowers for free!" Jungkook's boss had barked.

The boy had blinked, then spoke quietly. "Wouldn't you do the same-"

"No!" The boss had roared, shoving him towards the door. "That's it, you're fired!"

"But my paycheck-"

Without another word, his boss had practically tossed him out the door, slamming it behind him. Jungkook had stood there for a second before angrily grabbing his rusty green bike and pushing it roughly down the street.

Back to the present, Jungkook arrived at his small house and tied up his bike. He walked up the the front step and slowly opened the door, anxious to see his mother. He took a step into the house and took a deep breath.

"Mom?" he called. "I'm home."

"In here, Jungkook!"

Jungkook followed the sound of her voice to the dining room, where she was sitting at the small table, a notebook resting in front of her. She held a ballpoint pen in her hand, and she looked stressed.

Jungkook's father had passed away years before, killed in a hit-and-run accident when Jungkook was only seven. He was eighteen now, and he could see how run-down his mother was, trying to keep up with bills and still find a way to feed herself and her son. Mrs. Jeon still missed her husband terribly, and some days the grief hit her so hard, she wouldn't even be able to get out of bed. Jungkook always took care of her, though.

"Hi sweetie, how was your day?"

Jungkook swallowed nervously, guilt weighing him down. "Um... well..." He fumbled for words, racking his brain for a way to start.

Mrs. Jeon smiled lovingly at her son, reaching out and placing a hand on his arm. "Is everything alright, dear?"

Jungkook felt horrible. No, nothing's alright, he wanted to scream, but his mother didn't deserve that. Instead, he took a shuddering breath, trying to calm himself before he broke down completely. Unfortunately for him, it didn't work that way.

"I'm sorry," Jungkook choked out, his hands flying up to hide his face as tears pooled in his brown eyes. His mother gasped and pulled the boy into her arms, stroking his hair.

"Oh, Jungkookie, what's wrong?"

"I-I lost the j-job," Jungkook stuttered, burying his face in Mrs. Jeon's shoulder. He was so embarrassed, he was supposed to be the strong one. His mother did so much for him; he just wanted to be able to afford a nice dinner.

"The florist job?"

Jungkook nodded, sniffing and wiping his eyes. "I got fired," he murmured, barely loud enough for her to hear. He couldn't bring himself to look up at her, he felt a failure. In Jungkook's mind, he had failed.

"Well, then that's their loss. If they're willing to fire they're best worker, they're pretty stupid."

Jungkook's head shot up so fast, he nearly got whiplash. "B-But the dinner..."

Mrs. Jeon gently grabbed his chin, a twinkle in her eye. "Did you really think I'd be mad?" She asked, sounding amused. "Sweetheart, we're okay. We don't need nice chicken to be happy."

Jungkook let out a small chuckle,
sniffing slightly and wrapping his arms around his mother. "Thanks, Mom."

♔

i came up with this idea in science class bc i had nothing better to be doing oof. have a lovely day!