𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙙 𝙛𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙨

𝚘𝚗𝚎

chapter one  ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ

"i warned you"

the ashes from his mothers cigarette fell to the hardwood slowly. the smoke gathered around the room, almost like the fog from outside snuck under the crack of their doors and windows to seek shelter; the smell burnt taehyung's nose, too overwhelming, too strong. it lead him to cough.

"if it bothers you so much then why don't you get to work on the basement," her gravelly voice ordered. it came out like a suggestion, but taehyung knew better. "you know your place around here, don't you?"

it didn't take him another moment to make his move toward the dark, cryptic basement where his father practically lived. if his mother is bad, his father is horrible. he spent his time crafting some alcohol from scratch. his brew was the preferred brand in their city of daegu, and if it weren't for his assistant in the process—taehyung—then it would make it a lot harder to earn all of those pennies keeping them afloat.

taehyung hates everything bitter. he'd much prefer to drink some juice or a smoothie than coffee or the kinds of alcohol that make his throat burn. he likes things smooth, easy, sweet. it is almost hilarious to think considering his life is anything but. however, his preferences were never considered in their house. money before everything, is the thought he grew up on. that's why he finds himself in the basement with his father for hours to test the effects of the beer his father brews. he lets him know if he needs to make it stronger or lighter, and to test how long he will be awake after consuming or how quickly he will become drunk.

this became an everyday thing when taehyung was only fifteen, so his tolerance to most alcohol is impressive but he doesn't plan to exploit this so called skill of his to the public anytime soon. the only alcoholic beverage that is too much for him is that of his fathers—it shouldn't surprise anyone, either, since he has been the test subject for years and his father revolves the whole process around challenging his sons tolerance.

once taehyung's foot hit the concrete of their basement, he was met with a lukewarm glass of beer in his fathers outstretched hand. he looked up at the man, noticing how proud he looked of this batch and hesitantly grabbed the glass from him. "this is a good one, son. i had a taste myself and i can still feel the tingles."

taehyung sipped on the beverage and the taste was kind of sweet that time, but the feeling it gave him was far from that. his throat burned as if it's the first time he has had alcohol, and the room began to spin. "what did you change about it?"

"i just lessened the parts that cancelled out the actual sting and added some flavor that is more your style," his father chimed sweetly. "how do you like it?"

"it'll definitely get me drunk," he said with honesty. "i'm sure this will be a favorite for your customers."

his father laughed, shrugging. "it better be. now, if you think it'll get you drunk then drink up! you deserve a celebration after being such a good partner."

"but dad, i have a test tomorrow morning—"

he was met with a hard glare, "drink the damn thing, taehyung. i worked hard on this and you're just going to let it go to waste?"

this was a daily occurrence. it was almost like taehyung had learned to say those encouraging words on default, like he's a robot in a factory. his relationship with his parents never went beyond work. it was always go to the basement, your father needs you or make us dinner and wash the clothes. his parents did absolutely nothing other than get drunk or smoke up the whole house.

the drinking only hurt the boy in the end to no ones surprise. one night, after a particularly harder week of battling painful hangovers and failing his school tests, he woke up coughing up blood. he was scared, he thought he was going to die because why would my parents give a shit if i die tonight? they'll sleep through this but just as that thought was born, it died once his father came rushing in.

taehyung was sure the only thing on his mind was oh no not my assistant! as he sat the boy up and rushed him to their beat up jeep outside, "stay awake, kim."

the drive was definitely illegal—they broke too many speed limits, passed more than one red light, nearly crashed a handful of times but they were finally in front of the hospital in one piece. taehyung opened the door for himself before his father had the chance to, and immediately fell to the wet ground only to cough up more blood. he remembers crying at this point. he probably looked like a sad, desperate mess. thankfully, a nurse was on their smoke break outside and saw everything unfold. he rushed over, grabbing taehyung and putting him on an extra wheelchair.

turns out all that alcohol did a significant number on him and his kidneys had started to malfunction. they had told him to stop drinking in order to stay alive and live a long, healthy life. that should have made him relieved but all he felt was fear. what would his parents think when he told him that he could no longer assist them in the only thing he is good for?

telling them was a hard process; he thought he could just rip the bandaid off, but the second his father said "at least you're well and you can help me with this new batch," his nerves heightened. he told them quietly, in a hushed whisper, but he knew they heard him. even when they kept telling him to repeat himself, then when they kicked him outside of their house, right on his ass for the neighbors to see and say back to them why he can no longer stay at their house. he probably said "because i have no purpose" more that day than any other day in his life.

so, now, his home is a flimsy old mattress he found outside of someone's house, placed in a shaded alley. it has been one month since he was kicked to the curb, and he thinks every day will be his last. being homeless in a big city is not pleasurable; every passing hour is a fight for survival.

and he's all alone.