Tomorrow jjkxpjm {completed}

The past 1/4

(a/n: It's about to get angsty. Also, this isn't proofread)

Hoseok pov*

"My place or yours?" I asked Yoongi as we walked out the door of Jimin's house.

"Let's go to mine," he responded.

~another time skip~ (because I am still a lazy bitch)

We pulled up at this tiny duplex. It was an ashy gray color. It was only a one-story building. There was only one window, which was occluded by a large black curtain. It didn't look like a family could live here.

"Is this it?" I asked him.

"Yep," he responded. He started getting out of the car. We walked to the door, and I heard his keys jingle in the door. The door opened with a loud creak. When you walk in there is a tiny kitchen connected to a small living room. If you head down the short hallway, there is a bathroom that contained the washing machine and dryer and then a bedroom at the end of the hall. That was it. There was nothing more in this tiny home. He must've seen the confusion on my face. "Umm... so this is my home."

"I- uh"

"Okay, I know what you're thinking."

"I- you do?"

"Yes. You're wondering where the rest of my family is," he said. I was surprised that he could tell. "Sit down on the couch. Would you like anything to drink?"

"What do you have?"

"Well..." He walked over to his fridge. "I have tea, milk, water, some sodas-"
"SPRITE?!" I yelled. "Sorry. Do you have Sprite?" He chuckled. He walked back into the living room with a Sprite and an iced americano. I started jumping up with joy. He handed me the Sprite and sat next to me. I plopped a fat kiss on his lips. "Thank you, baby." His cheeks turned a faint red. "So, I wanted to tell you about my family."

"Oh, okay." I was a little bit nervous, but I wanted him to feel comfortable enough to talk to me. "You know, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I understand that it might be uncomfortable, but I want you to feel comfortable when you talk to me."

"I've never really talked to anyone about it, but I want to. And I think that I feel comfortable enough to tell you. I know that we have only been together for a day, but it feels like it has been so much longer than that."

"I know what you mean. I feel the same way."

"Okay, so I will tell you the summed up version of my childhood." I nodded and grabbed his hands. "So, when I was five, my dad left us. He left my brother, mom, and I all alone."

"You have a brother?"

"I had an older brother. Just wait, let me explain the story." He said.

"Okay."

"After my dad left us, we had no place to go. My mom didn't have a job, and we were too young to work. There was nothing we could really do to help. Mom didn't know what to do or how to make money. So, she became a prostitute." I was shocked. I didn't expect all of this. "She was bringing in enough money, so we had a home and food to eat. But we didn't really have a mom." He paused for a second and then continued. "Then, one day, mom brought a guy home. She had never brought a guy home before. We hid in our room. We hadn't eaten dinner yet, and it was getting late. So, my brother said he would sneak into the kitchen to get food. He successfully made it to the kitchen and was about to come back to our room. He turned and ran right into the man. The man was obviously drunk. My brother stuttered a sorry and began heading back to our room as fast as he could. The man grabbed him by his collar and slammed him into the wall. Then he grabbed his throat and started choking him against the wall. He told my brother that he should watch where the fuck he was going. The whole time my brother just kept saying sorry over and over. I was scared. I could hear what was happening, but I was of no help. He killed my brother." He looked up at me with teary eyes.

"Oh my god baby, I'm so sorry," I said trying to comfort him. I couldn't even imagine the pain he went through. I hugged him as tightly as I could. I could tell he was holding back his tears. "It's okay baby, you can cry." I rubbed his back. He finally let out the tears. He sat there in my arms sobbing. Eventually, he pushed himself up and wiped his tears away.

"Sorry."

"No don't be! It's okay."

"Okay, now let me finish."

"You're not done?"

"No. Anyway, after my brother died my mom quit being a prostitute."

"Wait. What happened to the man?"

"Nothing. There was nothing we could do. Prostitution is illegal so my mom could've gotten in trouble. So, we had to let the guy go."

"Oh my god."

"Yep." He nodded his head. "We had no other choice but to run away. We had to hide the death of my brother and we couldn't stay there anymore. We packed up, and we left Daegu. We moved to Seoul. We lived in a box under a highway. What little money we did have, we spent on food. We spent five years like that. We moved as often as we needed to. We lived in homeless shelters. One day, my mom went out to go buy us some food. On her way home, she got hit by a train. She died then. I was so confused. I had no idea where she had gone. I didn't know she was dead. I thought she had left me. About a week later, I found out she had died. I was devastated. I had no one left anymore. I was a ten-year-old boy living on the streets, alone."

"Oh my goodness."

"It doesn't end there."

"What?"

"Just listen."

"Okay."

"I hadn't eaten in days. I sat down at the corner of a street and I didn't move. A police officer came up to me and asked me if I was alright. I couldn't even answer him. I was on the verge of death. He took me to the police station. They filled me with food. They put me in the foster care system. They stuck me in a small home. The people were rotten. They made me do chores all the time. They sent me to school which was good. I did very well for not going to school my whole life. I was in music class one day and I discovered the piano. I fell in love with it immediately. I went home and asked the parents if I could ever have a piano. They beat me and told me I shouldn't be thinking of such things. I lived there for three years. It was total hell, but while I was there I found the things I love. I found my love for piano and rapping."

"Hang on a second. You rap?"

"Yes." He chuckled. "Let me finish the story babe."

"Yes of course."

"My social worker saw the bruises on me and sent me to a different foster home. They were the most lovely people I have ever met in my life. They truly loved me and they just wanted me to be happy." He started tearing up. "They even scraped up enough money to buy me an old, used piano for my fifteenth birthday. I played it every day." He was smiling so hard that I started smiling too. "They also supported my underground rapping gig. They even came one time. Then, they came to one of my gigs to surprise me." He started tearing up once again. "I knew this was a dangerous gig. They offered me more money to do it. I was the youngest to perform. I was sixteen."

"Last year?"

"Yeah... I'm not sure how it happened but all of a sudden a gunshot went off during my performance. I got out of there as fast as I could. My parents never made it out." He was full-on sobbing again. I pulled him on top of me and I held him. He needed to cry, so I let him. After much time, he settled down.

"It's okay, baby."

"Th-they left all of their money to me. I don't even know why."

"They loved you. That's why." Silent tears were rolling down his cheeks.

"That's how I have this apartment. I don't have a job because I need to get good grades so I can go to college. I don't want to be anything like my mom or dad."

"And you won't be. You are going to have a beautiful life. You will make a great dad, and you will never leave them. You will be what your foster parents were to you."

"Th-thank you."

"I just hope I can be by your side for all of it."

"Me too." He mumbled. He snuggled into my side and I held him close. "Can you tell me about your family?"

(a/n: This is going to be a four-part chapter thing. I don't know how to explain it lol. I hope you enjoyed)