When Youngjae first met Daehyun he had one thought on his mind: idiot. Almost a month later and his opinion had yet to change. It didn’t help that he was now beside Daehyun as the teenager was grumbling. Handcuffed. In a police car. Yeah, the scene did not help Youngjae’s opinion of the boy one bit. It was nothing personal. It was business. Youngjae just happened to get stuck with the worst assignment ever conjured by the Clockmaker. Babysitting this boy for twelve years. Twelve. No other collector had ever needed to babysit a soul clock for that long. Collectors were expected to gather millions of clocks on a daily basis for recycling. Not even trainees babysat clocks for this long: maximum a year. He had valid reasons to be a salty peanut. The Clockmaker tried to justify Youngjae’s assignment as being some Mission Impossible that only Youngjae could solve. Did he look like Tom Cruise? 

“Y-you can’t be serious…” Youngjae stared at the Clockmaker pleadingly. 

“I’m serious Youngjae. This is very important.” The Clockmaker smiled sympathetically at the flustered collector. 

“B-but couldn’t you get a trainees to do this? I mean, it’s twelve years. I wouldn’t be able to collect other clocks. I wouldn’t be able-” Youngjae rambled, his mind running a mile a minute. Youngjae instinctively played with the sundial charm on his choker to soothe his nerves. It wasn’t working. 

“I know, Youngjae,” The Clockmaker noticed Youngjae’s shoulders slump as he hit the intercom button. “Yongguk, can you please come in.”

Youngjae’s defeated expression lightened slightly at the familiar face of his friend Yongguk. The leader of the clocksmith division. The usually intimidating man, flashed the younger a gummy smile. Youngjae always envied Yongguk. Being a clocksmith, Yongguk was able to repair and remake the soul clocks that were collected. He made life. Youngjae. Well, he was a collector. He was only meant to take. No matter how difficult and painful it was to do so. 

“Jung Daehyun, age 17. A curious case,” The Clockmaker sighed. “During daily rounds, collectors noted that they are unable to read his soul clock,” The Clockmaker put his hands together. Youngjae was utterly confused. Unable to read a soul clock? If collectors can’t read a soul clock then they wouldn’t know when to collect. This was the first time that Youngjae had ever heard of this. Youngjae quickly flipped through the files to see if there was even a crumb as to how this could have happened. 

“He’s missing pages…” Youngjae’s mumbled. All the pages pertaining to Daehyun’s life before twelve years old were missing. 

“Interesting, no?” The Clockmaker smiled slightly. “I’m checking with the records department, but until then we’ve come up with this.”

Yongguk handed Youngjae a pocket watch. Youngjae eyed the silver trinket. The detailed engraving, the pristine polished finish, and the beautifully carved face. The small hand resting on ‘I.’ Everything about the pocket watch was art. “This is a timer clock that crudely aligns with Daehyun’s soul clock. We have an estimate timeline. It’s about…”

“Twelve years.” Youngjae murmured, clutching the clock. 

“Idiot…” Youngjae grumbled. An obvious frown on his face as he blew at his ash brown bangs. 

“I know, it’s not like it’s been the 20th time you’ve told me this…” Daehyun slumped in the backseat of the police car, ruffling his honey blonde locks. 

“You end up in a cop car for fighting a month after you were in the hospital for, oh yeah, fighting,” Youngjae rolled his eyes. “I haven’t called you an ‘idiot’ enough apparently.” 

“Wannabe grim reaper…” Daehyun grumbled.

Youngjae blamed the fact that Daehyun was a ‘special case,’ which allowed the teen to see and touch him upon their meeting at the hospital. Since then, the two were as thick as thieves. Thieves that wanted to kick each other’s asses that is. Despite Youngjae’s explanation to the boy about his presence(leaving out the small detail about having twelve years left to live), Daehyun still lived his life haphazardly. In the one month that Youngjae monitored Daehyun, the teen refused to go to his classes despite being a student at one of the most prestigious high schools in Seoul, picked fights with his fellow classmates, and acted like an unpleasant little troll. If it wasn’t for the fact that Daehyun had injured his arm, the boy probably would have gotten himself into more fights. When Youngjae attempted to be amicable and guide the teen on the right path to live his life to the fullest, the called him a nagging mother. 

“I’m a collector, you .” Youngjae growled at the sleepy teen. 

“Well isn’t someone sensitive. Did I hurt your little ego?” Daehyun let out a snort, a smirk on his plump, slightly battered lips. 

“You are incorrigible!” Youngjae heaved, his cheeks flaring an angry red. 

“Shut your trap, Jung!” The officer in the front hissed. “Weird kid...talking to himself like some psycho…” The officer mumbled to himself as he glanced at his rear view mirror to see Daehyun soundly asleep. 

“If it wasn’t for the fact that your father was Senator Jung…” The sergeant shook his head as he unlocked Daehyun’s handcuffs. 

“Whether I’m his son or not, shouldn’t affect your policing. My, how fair our justice system is.” Daehyun scoffed, staring at the officer defiantly. 

“Watch your mouth, brat,” The sergeant ripped the handcuffs off Daehyun’s wrist. The teen glaring at the elderly man as he shook his wrist to soothe the pain. “Now get the hell out of here and I don’t know, do something worth the Jung name maybe?” The sergeant snorted, pushing Daehyun out of the police station before slamming the door. 

“He’s right, ya know. Maybe you should do something with your life instead of destroying it like a .” Youngjae shook his head in dismay as he floated beside Daehyun, lounging back as the teen had a scowl permanently tattooed on his face. From Daehyun’s file, Youngjae knew the basics of Daehyun’s background. His father was some big shot politician with his mother was the pillar of the community. Daehyun was the black sheep. He had the means to live a comfortable life, but he chose not to. Instead opting to live in a shabby apartment with a friend of his. A college student at the local fashion school. From Youngjae’s observation, Daehyun wasn’t on speaking terms with his parents. Youngjae didn’t understand why Daehyun was so estranged with them. The collector expected the Jungs to be a picture perfect family.

“Thanks, Oh-wise-one. It’s not like I haven’t heard that before.” Daehyun shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. A small curse leaving his lips as he attempted to stomp down the sidewalk. The teen just wanted to get home. He wanted to get rid of Youngjae too, but that seemed like an impossible task since the collector was like a damn koala to a eucalyptus tree. 

“Tsk, you have everything. Both your parents are alive, you’re wealthy, and you’re getting a good education, yet you’re literally throwing it down the crapper. For what? Just to be a rebellious, angsty brat?” Youngjae rolled his eyes. 

“What do you know about me!?” Daehyun shoved his face in front of Youngjae. The collector’s eyes widened and his mouth was slightly agape at the sudden aggression from the teen. Usually the boy was annoyed but calm during Youngjae’s scoldings. This time, however, it seemed that Youngjae had gone too far. Daehyun’s eyes were dark, his hands balled up into fist, as his chest rose and fell heavily in an attempt to keep himself calm. “You follow me for one month and you think you’ve got me all figured out?” Daehyun side glared at Youngjae. Youngjae stiffened slightly at the teen’s intense stare. A swirl of emotions in Daehyun’s ember brown eyes. 

“I..uh…” Youngjae, for once in his life, was at a loss for words. 

“Just off, you poltergeist…” Daehyun growled, turning on his heel to walk to the nearest subway station. 

“You’re home late. I was about to eat dinner without your ,” Himchan hummed as he heard the door to his apartment open. He peeked his head out of the kitchen archway to see Daehyun keeping his head down as if Circus De Soleil was being performed on their rotted floor. “Hey, are you okay?” Himchan wiped his hands on the kitchen rag before going into the living room. 

“I’m fine…” Daehyun murmured. He walked passed Himchan heading to his bedroom, the door slammed shut. Himchan scratched his head before letting out an exasperated sigh. His mother bear instincts were kicking in. Himchan quietly approached Daehyun’s bedroom door, gently knocking on the flimsy wood. When he received no reply he began to start a conversation even though he knew it might be a one-sided one. 

“You look like …” Himchan smiled slightly as he heard a rustle from the other side of the door. Probably Daehyun flipping him the bird. “Another fight?” Again another rustled. Himchan turned so that his back was resting against the door. “You know if you don’t answer me, I’m going to be that vindictive that puts that one red sock in a wash with all your white clothes.” 

“Just stupid rich pricks...” Daehyun’s muffled voice finally answering. Daehyun honestly wished that everyone at his damn school would just leave him alone. It’s not like he wanted to be there anyways. What did his father say? A Jung couldn’t be caught at some crummy, second class school. Pretentious prune. Image. That’s what his parents and every person in his stupid school cared about. So what if Daehyun dyed his hair and got a few piercings? Were they the ing fashion police? No. Last time Daehyun checked, none of them had the cheeky quip of Joan Rivers. Just because Daehyun didn’t follow the mold didn’t mean he deserved to be treated like trash. 

“You shouldn’t let it get to you.” Himchan sighed, understanding Daehyun’s perspective yet at the same time he didn’t like his dongsaeng getting hurt. 

“It’s fine. I’m a hormonal teen. I’m allowed to be emotionally sensitive.” Daehyun snorted, eliciting a soft chuckle from Himchan.

 “Just don’t end up in the hospital like last time, okay?” Himchan’s request was only replied with a hum, but the elder would take it. 

Youngjae watched the the scene unfold, floating above Himchan. He didn’t dare to go into Daehyun’s room after their little encounter on the street. A small pout was forming on Youngjae’s lips as he was feeling emotionally conflicted. There was a pang of guilt that was ringing through his mind. In truth, Youngjae hadn’t even known the reason for the fight. The two were making a stop at a convenience store, when a couple of Daehyun’s classmates approached. Youngjae simply assumed that they were on amicable terms with the way they put their arm around Daehyun’s shoulder. He thought that it was okay to go off for just a few minutes to provide his daily update back to the Clock Shop. Youngjae just failed to miss the grimace on Daehyun’s face. By the time Youngjae returned, Daehyun had already thrown the first punch. 

Youngjae removed the silver pocket watch from the sleeve of his black oversized sweater. Opening the lid, Youngjae clicked the crown of the pocket watch. “Yongguk…” Youngjae chewed on his lower lip. “I think I really messed up…”

“Where are we going?” Youngjae glanced around his surroundings as he followed Daehyun. The teen had decided to leave the apartment at some ungodly hour where the sun no longer existed. Youngjae had some slight concerns as to why they were out so late, but chose to keep his mouth mum and distance himself.  Since their argument days ago, Youngjae tried his best to be less ‘naggy, ’ as Daehyun would put it, but it was proving to be difficult. 

“Now that my arm is healed properly, I’m going back to work…” Daehyun was also trying to make best of the situation. The teen just didn’t know how to interact with the button-nosed grim reaper. Honestly, on their first meeting, Daehyun was shocked. Not by the fact that he was going to die, after all Youngjae never gave him a specific time. For all he knew he could live for 400 years. Daehyun was shocked by how pretty Youngjae was. Doe brown eyes, silky ash brown hair, pouty sausage lips, and dangly earrings. Youngjae looked more like an idol than a harebringer of death. Either way, Daehyun was stuck with him and the teen couldn’t bear to see that stupid puppy pout on the collector’s face everytime Daehyun ignored him. Daehyun walked down some alley, Youngjae eyeing the area suspiciously. The place was- how Youngjae would eloquently put it- ‘shady as .’ Daehyun opened the back door to some building, where both boys were greeted by flashing lights and pounding music of a club. 

“Y-you work here? Aren’t you underage?!” Youngjae was trying to be open. To be understanding. That’s what Yongguk had told him to do. Daehyun was just making it really difficult. 

“Don’t worry, I’m a good little boy,” Daehyun scoffed before flashing a small wave to Himchan who was at the bar tending to drunk patrons. “I’ll be in the changing room so unless grim reapers are also erts, I’m assuming you’ll be waiting around here.”

“For the upteenth time, I’m a collector!” Youngjae puffed out his cheeks, annoyed. 

“Okay, you’re a collector, but you don’t deny that you’re a ert?” A small tug of a smirk pulled at Daehyun’s lips as he watched Youngjae turn into a bright shade of red. 

“N-no! I mean, yes! J-Just go change, you punk!” Youngjae screeched. Daehyun had to stifle down a chuckle as he headed to the changing room.

Youngjae waited at the bar for Daehyun, rocking back and forth on his heel. He never understood why people liked clubbing. Sweaty bodies against sweaty bodies. He had heard stories from other collectors about kids overdosing on drugs or alcohol at these things. Youngjae frowned at the thought. Life was so fragile and short, why would people just throw it away like it was nothing. 

“Ah there is our star waiter!” Himchan teased as Daehyun flashed him the finger. Youngjae was stunned by how Daehyun looked. It wasn’t that the teen was ugly, the opposite actually. Youngjae would classify him as being handsome. The teen’s usually messy honey blond locks were pushed up to the side, his ear and lip piercings glimmered under the club lights, and his white button up and black dress pants fitted him nicely.    

“Speaking of star waiter, would you be dear for me and deal with table six? They’re a bit y.” Jieun, a fellow waitress, grinned at the teen. Daehyun let out a playful scoff, rolling up his sleeves as he grabbed the tray. 

“He’s graduating high school next year. Can you believe that?” Jieun sighed reminiscing to their first meeting with Daehyun. “Remember when he first came in and wanted to apply for a job?”

“Yeah, him and his scrawny 14 year old self,” Himchan chuckled. “Took us a while to convince him that he had to wait to till he was at least 15 years old to work here.”

“That and a little schmoozing from our very own Himchan.” Jieun bursted into a fit of laughter as she gathered the next round of drinks. 

“I have a soft spot for the kid. His parents practically disowned him when he told them he wanted to be a singer. Now it’s literally our little Daehyun against the world.” Himchan let out an exhausted sigh before moving on to his next line of patrons. 

Youngjae stayed silent, allowing the conversation he overheard to sink in. His eyes following Daehyun as the boy scurried through the crowd wearing a plastic smile on his face. 

“I’m sorry,” Daehyun paused his movements, turning around and raising a curious brow, “You were right….I don’t know anything about you so I don’t have the right to judge you…” Youngjae was never good at apologizing, but brownie points for trying. 

“It’s fine...I’m used to it…” Now Daehyun was feeling awkward. Emotions and feelings. They weren’t Daehyun’s forte. 

“You shouldn’t be though!” Youngjae’s sudden outburst caught both boys off guard. They both simply stared at each other wide-eyed. “I mean, you’re working hard to reach your dream right? Just because it doesn’t match up with expectations, you shouldn’t be treated like some miscreant….like how I treated you…” Youngjae swallowed thickly, closing his eyes to brace for something unknown. 

Daehyun let out a burst of laughter, causing Youngjae to open his eyes and watch in awe as the beautiful melody of his laugh filled the cold night air. “You’re a really interesting grim reaper,” Youngjae was about to open his mouth to correct Daehyun, but the teen beat him to it. “I forgot, collector. Thanks...for apologizing. Not a lot of people apologize, or at least sincerely.” Daehyun approached Youngjae, the collector moving back on instinct. The teen was the same height as he, but Daehyun still had the guts to ruffle Youngjae’s hair. 

Youngjae felt a strange heat on his cheeks that he couldn’t quite describe. “If it’s not weird...would you mind telling me about your music stuff.”

“The moment I woke up and saw you in my hospital room, we moved passed the weird stage.” Daehyun chuckled.

“True. I don’t even know why I even asked for permission .” Youngjae merely shrugged, a small smile scrawling across his face.

“A cheeky poltergeist aren’t you?” Daehyun smirked. Youngjae frowned and flicked Daehyun’s forehead, causing the teen to stare at Youngjae shocked.

“Call me a poltergeist again and I’ll kick your , you punk.” Youngjae smirked. The two of them staring at each other with snarky little smirks on their lips, eventually leading to a melody of laughter. 

Thanks for reading! Comments and Critiques are highly welcomed! (Especially since this is for a contest, I need all the advise on how to better myself I can get hehehe)

So what do you guys think? I little devition from my usual slice of life right? Throwing in some supernatural elements >w< And of course the much awaited ANGST! Please don't murder me for the upcoming tears hehe :3