Fatal Miscalculations •Jaeyong•

Chapter 12

WARNING: Chapter contains triggering scenes echoing domestic abuse.

The pungent reek of bleach both devastated and comforted him. Taeyong rid his hands of the rubber gloves and slumped heavily against the toilet stall’s wall. He was exhausted to his bones. Fatigue was now starting to seep into his soul. He had had a restless night last night and was forced to wake before the sun even came up. He knew better than to labour from dawn to noon on an empty stomach while he carried, but he hadn’t had the chance to eat anything.

His head felt heavy on his shoulders. At times like this, he reconsidered quitting scrubbing toilets for mere pennies, but then Jaehyun’s words would echo in his head. Beggars can’t be choosers, and he knew well that he was close to a beggar’s level, but not quite. His pride didn’t allow him to beg for alms for entitled people just yet, although his body was starting to give in.

He rubbed his puffy eyes on the back of his calloused, dry hands and exited the stall to entertain another. He should be grateful that he even had this job among the three other he was juggling with. If it had been just him, he might have survived with just the meagre pay one job supplied. But he couldn’t. He was eating for two now.

For some odd reason, he rather liked the smell of bleach and soaps, not the kind that usually smelled pleasant. It made him less nauseous. But at the same time, his eyes and lungs burned. He did not find scrubbing toilets and mopping floors and cleaning windows as shameful. Someone had to do them, right? And if they paid for the next meal, Taeyong could not exactly refuse. He did not have the privilege. But it was a demanding job and Taeyong was beginning to lose confidence in the strength of his physique. He might not last as long as he’d like to. The baby was wearing him out from inside.

He collected his wage for the day and pulled his coat on, smelling a variety of toilet cleaners and headed for his next workplace. The flea market where he arranged items on shelves and swept the floor.

By the time he was done, he thought he might pass out on his way to orphanage, which he had thought he’d never return to, but his ill fate had yanked him back.

The day he had left Harvington, Taeyong had considered a few options. Itcara was one of his top choices, but he recalled Kai mentioning having people he was well-acquainted with in that town and it was a territory of Lycans at large, too. So, Taeyong opted for his hometown, Elthel. The wretched, cold, merciless, small town. But it was quiet, at least. And it had its peaceful corners.

The orphanage had not change much, if any. The night he had showed up at its doorstep, seeking shelter and mercy, the haunting memories of the secluded orphanage for Pantherinaes churned his stomach. He had a few good memories. His friends, his first innocent crush, the banters that circled the Housemother.

Speaking of whom, she had regarded him with surprise and a slight derision. But Taeyong was glad that she hadn’t heaped scorn on him that day and had welcomed him back into the orphanage, though he had no place in it anymore. That said, Taeyong now had to pay for his stay in the orphans’ asylum. But being around the orphaned Pantherinaes and children made him feel better. Usually when he returned, they would have gone to bed, but sometimes, during the ‘movie night’, the only time of the week they were allowed to watch TV, Taeyong would bring them candies and cakes.

Tonight, however, was not a ‘movie night’, so he went home empty-handed and with an empty stomach. He had had a stale bread at work to appease the baby, but it was hardly filling. The door of the house was opened when he knocked on it.

The Housemother did not offer a smile and Taeyong did not bother either. She was fairly older now. More grey streaked her hair than the last time Taeyong had seen her. She used to be a plumper, too.