The Reflection We Fear || Taekook

Chapter 1: Runaway

The loud buzzing sound of the alarm cut through the stillness and the silence of the room. He fucking hated that alarm. Mainly because it woke him up at exactly six o'clock in the morning and demanded him to finally get up and out of the comfort of his warm bed. He also hated it 'cause it reminded him of going to that piss pool they call school. Taehyung wouldn't actually mind going to school all that much, if it weren't for the fact that the people who attended it were going through the most annoying phase of their meaningless little lives and were the perfect description of morons. So, every morning he got out of bed, managed to get dressed and went off to the institution, where he pretended to be the Kim Taehyung everyone in his family had known, the personality that made most people like him and got him through each day on autopilot. Programmed to please everyone. He honestly found the college he attended a joke in most occasions, 'cause apparently the institution he was supposed to learn at and get him ready to actually do something with his fucking life, was filled with jealous teachers and students that thought pulling a prank on the nerdiest kid they could find was fun. But today was different. Today he wouldn't be leaving his home with a backpack filled with stationary, he wouldn't be entering the classroom and be listening to teachers telling him he could be so much more if he was willing to put the work into it. He wouldn't be staring back at his classmates judging eyes.

Taehyung got out of his bed, shivering at the cool air of the room and hurriedly got dressed. He was excited, he couldn't deny that even if he wanted to; and yet deep down he could feel his stomach rising up-and-down. Causing the pit to leave a gaping hole that would remind him of his constant anxiety. For once he was terrified as hell, which wasn't at all a surprise. If anything, for him it was a relief, saying that he still felt something. Which was good, he could keep hold of that emotion, but still the foreign feeling of being scared made him uneasy. He never felt nervous or anxious in his life. Not before his entrance exam, not before an SAT, not even when his teacher decided to mark everyone on the spot because he was pissed off with the class and needed to weed people out. He never felt the rush of nerves that all of his classmates were talking about, and now finally experiencing it, he knew why people hated the feeling.

He picked up his backpack which wasn't filled with his books or pencils, but rather spare clothes and some essentials he might need. He slung the bag on his left shoulder and left his room for the last time. He jogged down the stairs and saw from a small gap in the door, his father, working in front of his computer as usual at this hour. His back hunched forward from all the years of being crouched down in front of it. He never told his father how much he hated the constant sound of the keyboards clapping. He probably never will, as he hasn't said a lot of things. He found it easier to deal with people when he just silenced his thoughts. But looking at the man in front of him, eyeing the monitor through his glasses he felt like he should've said a couple of things to him, even if it was already too late and there was no point to it anymore.

Taehyung dropped his bag at the stairs and darted for the kitchen, knowing that his mother would be there too. With a cup of jasmine tea, and the newest chapter of whatever wannabe writer she was in charge of. Crossing out words and sentences with a death glare. Just like his father, her mother was the same. Truth be told, they never really stopped working and they didn't want to. Perhaps, if their marriage wasn't dying, he wouldn't have really cared. He knew they would never get divorced, they were too proud for that shit, but seeing them not drawn to each other anymore, almost as they were forced to care because of him and Taeyeon, in a way kind of hurt Taehyung. Though not as much as he was gonna hurt them he supposed. Perhaps this meant they were even.

As predicted, Taehyung found his mother right where she always was. She fixed her round glasses as the red pen in her hand was working. Her hair was tied in a loose bun, leaving some small pieces of her baby hair slipped out. She was wearing a creamy, satin dress with a moderate cleavage in the front. The night gown, his father bought for her, had a belt wrapped around her waist, made from the same fabric. The colour of the dress blended with her white skin and complemented her fragile figure. She always seemed frail until someone crossed her. A perfect disguise Taehyung thought. His mother was fairly young, but her face did not show that. All the stress and hectic schedules took the better of her over the years.