You met him, your savior.
Or was he, really?
This is a spin-off from Seokjin's character from the story "His Pet".
But you don't need to read that to understand this one.
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Mature audiences only (of age or mature enough to separate fiction from...
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Your mood was as cloudy as the weather today. Seeing the grey sky this afternoon, you thought about your measly room, where you could sleep until noon without being disturbed by the brightness of sunshine.
Because you didn't get any of it in your current basement apartment.
Your job at the night club required you to leave for work around four pm everyday, so you spent most of your morning inside the dim room.
When you looked at the mirror, you could see your pasty complexion, devoid the usual blush.
Maybe you should sunbathe more, to get the color back on your cheek, but you couldn't afford to have spots on your face. Your job depended on your appearance among few other factors, it was your most precious asset for now.
And pale skin or loosing weight was the least of your problem at the moment.
It was Lisa's medical cost that worried you.
"I recommend surgery as soon as possible before another relapse, before everything will be too late. I also strongly suggest to move her to one bed per room to prevent infection thus keep complication at bay." That was what dr. Wong said to you three days ago.
"What should we do, honey? I wanted to go back to work, but Lisa can't be left alone." Your mom called you yesterday, you could hear the pressure on her voice.
"Moving her to first class will inflate the bill. But dr. Wong said if there are complications from infection, the risk will be even higher. Oh honey...what should we do?"
Your mother was crying on the phone, and you didn't even know how to console her.
You didn't want to give her a false hope, but you also didn't want her to stress out herself. So in the end you only said to her, you would think of a way.
There must be some way.
Your shift was just ended fifteen minutes ago, and you dragged your tired frame to the club's kitchen.
For the past week, you have been visiting the place regularly after shift, to eat from whatever uneaten food available from the serving plate that customers left over. That way, you could save from having to spend money for dinner.
Haru, one of the kitchen assistant, usually piled it up on the corner table, and you would take some and heat it up on the stovetop.
"Hi Haru." You waved weakly at her.
She was stirring something in a tall saucepan, with flushed face from the steam evaporated from the broth inside it.
"Aerin...good thing you come. I was expecting you. Wait a moment, please."
She turned of the stove, and washed her hand, before took of her apron, and stood in front of you. She raked her fingers through her pixie cut, looked a bit nervous.
