Money, Rice, Respect PT : 2
Fight or Fleet
Insider - 'Domesticated' ; one who lives inside somewhere whether it's a home or otherwise. (i.e. apartment; cabin)
'Neo' - banmal (aka informal) version of the word 'you' ; can be considered highly offensive and rude if used upon first meetings or to people who are of a higher status or age than you.
'Fleeter' - Set-in-stone definition is still unclear to me personally, though I take it as a person with bleak idea of future and bounces around to any place they can adapt and are able to earn a living, temporary or otherwise--known for frequently changing jobs or losing them as well as their homes.
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“Hello? Who is this? Answer me right now.”
“Eo...” The fighter nibbled at his lip a bit before responding. “He isn’t here right now. He went to the store.”
“Who the hell are you? Why are you at his house? Why do you have his phone? I’ll be there in three minutes. We’ll talk then.”
Taesun’s voice was thick with anger and irritation, throwing the phone into the passenger seat of his Navy Mercedes he drifted to the right, turning into a small street and continuing down. He huffed.
Taemin blinked a few times, falling into a slightly stunned silence when he stared at the prices of the food in the little store. Why was it so expensive? He shook his head, then picked up a case of banana milk and went back to the counter. He wouldn’t survive the night with Taesun if he had no banana milk, that much he knew.
He was walking back to his apartment when he saw the familiar sight of his brother’s car in the lot, and he began walking more quickly almost immediately. He knew Taesun was already pissy with him for letting his phone die earlier, and he didn’t want to make it worse. He dug into his pocket, looking for his phone and panicking when he couldn’t find it. Where could it have gone?
He hurried into the apartment, intent on dropping off the milk and tossing a take-out menu at Taesun (the elder never let him cook - something about being a safety hazard) before running back out to look for his phone, but he stopped short when he saw his phone in the stranger’s hand, a relieved expression coming over his face before his eyes traveled to his brother. “Hyung! You got here so fast!”
Taesun couldn’t respond, his face was boiling red and you could see his nostrils flaring from rage the longer he stood there. If looks could kill the fighter would have died already and been to hell and back. He clenched his jaw before focusing his gaze on Taemin, who was acting nothing short of normal despite the fact someone he didn’t know was in his house, and going through his things. It was obvious by the looks of the stranger that he was a troublemaker and a wanderer at best. Taesun’s hand curled to a fist in his suit pocket. “Neo,” he started in a slight whisper.
The brunette youth stood there, stunned at the sight of Taesun glaring lasers at him. What did he do? The fleeter had a talent for a good poker face, but after getting a better look at Taesun’s size and build they seemed to be the same age and the raven even appeared to have more muscle, so he felt no need to play it. He sounds a lot bigger on the phone. This made the raven smile a bit as his eyes flitted to Taesun’s face at the addressing of “you”. He disregarded the rude calling since he had been so used to it by now. He knew at this point he couldn’t receive respect as everyone else in Korea does. He has to fight for it. Literally.
“Ne?”
“You're a fleeter, aren't you?”
His small smile was made short. That label. Those words. They cut through him like blades of ice. Like he didn’t already know what he was, or where he came from. Was it really necessary to say it that way? The fighter could feel his eye twitch, this time it wasn’t from the wounds. Physical ones, anyway. He could feel his pride being hammered into the ground, though what for? Fighters use insults for psyching all the time, but this time was different.
No one ever attacked him unprovoked like that. Though he couldn’t help thinking of the younger one, who was probably watching them and for whatever reason it made him feel worse. the small drip of dried blood from his bottom lip he scoffed.
“Yeah, and?” he hissed.
Taemin moved further into the apartment, reaching out towards his brother and hugging his arm once he was within reach. “Hyung...what's going on?” His wide eyes displayed an innocent and unyielding trust for the one he was staring at, and he barely paid any attention to the stranger in his house. He leaned his head on the elder’s shoulder, absentmindedly wondering what he should order for dinner. He wanted steak...but it was so expensive.
“Taesunnie hyung.” Taemin said, headbutting the elder’s shoulder slightly. “What are you hungry for? Should we go out for dinner tonight?” He seemed completely oblivious to the tension in the room, and in reality he kind of was. He was just happy to have Taesun nearby, and the cotton in his head muted everything else taking place. He wondered if Taesun would spend the night, but decided he would ask when he knew more about the situation at hand.
Without much else to say, the fighter glided across the floor and passing the two love...birds(?) in the process. Making his way into the small living room once again. He gently descended to his knees, though aching and full of pain they might have been, he picked up each granule of rice by hand from the floor and flicked the stray grain into the wastebasket closest to him. He could feel the air tightening around him and he knew that it was time for him to leave. It was nice while it lasted, but the fact was he didn’t live an insider’s life.
Just as the name dictates; one who lives inside.
Picking up his tattered football jacket from his previous corner, he hobbled his way toward the foyer, slipping his worn frigid shoes back onto his warm yet bruised feet. In a way, he felt disappointed, and yet his usual self had told him to just shake it off. What was the point of feeling low because of someone? His dumbness must be rubbing off on me. He shook his head and refocused. After meticulously lacing up his shoes, his hand slowly reached for the door.
Taesun watched as the stranger passed them by then open the door and let himself out, smirking to himself in genuine satisfaction. And why wouldn’t he be? Getting rid of that dog was the easiest thing he’s done to protect his beloved Taemin in years.
'Too bad, you’re just another stray people couldn’t be bothered to take care of.'
Taemin’s voice resonated within him again, his eyes ripped from the ratty fleeter and returned to his brother’s gaze. “Un? A-ah.”
He chuckled fakely, nodding in acknowledgement. His voice was awkward, yet he was good at masking his true intention with gifts and empty promises. “Whatever you want, Taemin-ah.” He took hold of Taemin’s meak and slender hands. “Just promise me you won’t talk to that guy again. Okay?”
“Huh?” Taemin stared up at him with childish eyes before a look of innocent confusion came over his features. “But, hyung...he pushed me out of the way of a crazy driver. They don’t stop when you cross the street here, hyung! These people are really mean!” He said insistently. “The ones in the cars are, anyway. But that other hyung was nice, wasn’t he?”
He tilted his head to the side and used a little bit of aegyo to add to his charm. “Can we have steak tonight? And some rice?” He asked suddenly, switching topics at the drop of a hat. He really had no attention span to speak of, and he was off on the next subject before Taesun had a chance to respond. “Are you going to stay here tonight? You could stay in my bed with me, since the couch doesn’t pull out.”
He looked at the elder with pleading eyes, as though he were afraid of rejection. His arms wound around Taesun’s waist, squeezing slightly as he waited for responses to his questions. He knew he wouldn’t - couldn’t - do anything without Taesun’s approval, and so if the elder said he couldn’t have steak, or he shouldn’t talk to the stranger, then that was that.
The threatened brunette stepped out into crisp air, the sun had lowered a lot since he was last outside. Not only that, it seemed like everything had just felt worse than it did a couple hours ago. The wind was stronger, his feet were throbbing, and he swore it wasn’t this cold the night before. The chill seeped into his brittle bones the longer he stood in place. He had no choice but to continue walking, continue moving. Moving slowly along the sidewalk of the complex, he unconsciously took one last look at the number on the building. 4040. Street block Huidong. He blinked, turning his back to the structure and moving deeper into the village sect without so much as a word.
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