My Muse || Sope

-Eleven-

"My uncle solicited me for money."

I could hear Hoseok gasp, a horrified look of shock on his face. "W-w-what?"

"He couldn't afford to feed the both of us. He was out of a job at the time. Instead of looking for a job, he made money.... He knew people who l-liked l-little boys, so he decided to leave me with them and he got a large sum of money for it."

Hoseok's mouth was wide open, and shaking slightly as if he wanted to speak, but couldn't quite find the words.

I took one of his hands in mine, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "You don't have to say anything. It's hard to hear."

"H-how old were you?"

I swallowed down the tears, steadying my voice. "It happened off and on from the time that I was eight to about eleven. And by then I had gotten too old. Nobody w-wanted me anymore, including m-m-my u-uncle." My body collapsed into Hoseok's chests as my sobs overcame me. He immediately wrapped his arms around me, one of his hands stroking my hair. He whispered soft words of encouragement into my ear as I released every ounce of emotion I had been holding in.

I had hit my breaking point.

•••••••
He walked me home after I finished crying. His shirt was stained with my tears, but he never showed any evidence of caring. Our hands were in each other's the whole time. When we reached my front door, he let go, and I instantly missed his warm, soft hands.

He started chewing on his bottom lip with a confused look in his eyes. I stared up at him directly and gave him a weak smile. "What's on your mind, Hoseokie?"

He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "What happened after all of that with your uncle?"

"What do you mean?"

His eyes wouldn't meet mine as he spoke. "You said that nobody wanted you, including him, so what happened?"

I froze, unsure of whether he wanted to hear the harsh reality of my sad life. He gripped my hand once more, obviously sensing my discomfort. He told me a few reassuring and encouraging words, giving me the strength to continue. "He kicked me out. I was twelve years old. He told me I was disgusting and useless to him now so he never wanted to see me again. I was homeless. I never finished high school, much less college." I drew in a sharp breath. "And I worked as a stripper for a few years to make money so I could eat and pay rent." Hoseok had such a sad look in his eyes, and it made my heart hurt. I hated that I was so damn messed up and that I couldn't control my mind and emotions from consuming me. "And you hate me now, don't you?" I looked at my shoes while mumbling the question that had been gnawing at me for a few minutes.

Hoseok immediately shook his head. "Oh God, no. Yoongi, I could never hate you."

My eyes met his, and I'm pretty sure both of our eyes were filled with desire for one another. I decided to grow a pair and speak, making sure to pronounce every syllable clearly for him to hear. "Hoseok?" He raised an eyebrow in acknowledgement. I took a breath to settle my nerves. "I want you to kiss me like you did that one time."

A faint smile played on his lips before he leaned in. Our lips were about to touch when he pulled back. His voice was weak, almost strained. "I-I can't. I'm sorry." And then I watched his back as he left me, leaving me alone like everyone else. I cursed at myself for being too bold. Hoseok was perfectly sculpted, with an incredible smile and dashing personality. He could get anyone he wants. He wouldn't want me. He probably already has a whole line for him, and I'm standing quietly in the back, waiting for my turn to finally come. Waiting for my chance at happiness.

That chance, however, was shattered the next day.

•
I entered the building and immediately started headed to the nice break room by the dance studios where they served the good coffee. I had gotten here early, wanting to get a good start to my day by working on my own music before being assigned yet another project with Namjoon.

The hallways were empty, quiet. It was peaceful. I turned down the corner with my cup of coffee in hand, headed back to the music department when the coffee slipped out of my hand at the sight of Hoseok's tongue in Jimin's mouth. I felt my insides curling, anger boiling inside of me, followed soon after with absolute dread and disappointment.

At the sound of my cup hitting the tile floor, they broke off their kiss. I averted my eyes by acting like I was cleaning up my coffee. I picked up the cup, throwing in the trash can by me before sending a text to the janitor. I heard Hoseok calling my name faintly but I couldn't hear him well enough over the pounding of blood in my ears. At the sight of the janitor, I stormed off, back to my studio, to lock myself up for the next few days to come.

I registered the sound of someone knocking on the door, followed by what sounded like Hoseok's voice, but it all stopped after only a couple of minutes.

My heart felt heavy inside of my chest. I knew I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up, but there I go disappointing myself, yet again. I couldn't figure out why I was still here if I'm obviously not important to anybody except Taehyung.

I had put myself on the line by telling Hoseok about my uncle in the hopes that he would want to help me cope and live my life. Once again, I was wrong, and I was the one who ended up hurt in the end. I was left alone with all of the memories and nightmares I had shared and I knew that reliving those details would make me question my sanity again, but I did it anyway. I have a knack for hurting myself. Emotionally, and physically, as proven by the light scars on my thighs. The feeling of your life rushing out of you brings such a feeling of relief, and sometimes, like right now...

I craved that feeling.

•••••
Slower updates for the next 10 or so days because my professors decided to assign every living assignment ever during the last two weeks of classes.🙃