The first two weeks felt like hell but Kyungsoo was able to manage working at the nearby grocery as a cashier despite having one of his arms in a makeshift cloth sling. The grocery store he worked at was really small, a huge chunk of it dedicated to vegetables, fruits, and meat. Kyungsoo thought it was stupid because they were in the ing countryside where farms and barns co-existed in multitudes.

 

It worked to Kyungsoo’s benefit anyway. He did not have to move his arms to put products in a brown paper bag as often as he expected.

 

Most of the time, mothers carrying their children with them would go to the grocery store and try to steer clear away from Kyungsoo’s counter most probably because of his neck tattoo. Once in a while, an old woman— all different but looking very much alike due to their sagging skin and sunken eyes— would go to his counter. They were the only people going to him probably because their vision’s too blurry to see anything a foot away from them.

 

The old ladies were usually carrying a carton of milk in one hand and a bag of oatmeal in the other. Kyungsoo could really care less about the fact that they all depended on oatmeal for nutrition because their teeth were already long gone before they could die. Despite this blatant indifference on his part, he could not help his curiosity when he saw an old lady carrying a carton of milk in one hand and a pack of cotton balls in her other hand. He had to ask her what she was going to do with them.

 

“Oh, they’re for moisturizing my skin.”

 

Kyungsoo decided right there and then that he should have never stuck his nose in a delusional old lady’s business. The hag deemed it okay for her to talk to the cashier about her morning and evening routine to take care of her, as per Kyungsoo’s observation, already withering skin

 

“I think it’s very fascinating that you still try to keep your skin, uh- healthy despite your age.” The cashier forced out through his gritted teeth that were masked as a really friendly grin. He had already placed the products inside the paper bag and given the old lady her change.

 

“It’s not hard, really!” The old lady laughed as her eyes crinkled through her spectacles. She made a gesture towards Kyungsoo that meant she was finally going to take the paper bag. The latter was really thankful that he could already waste his time sitting down and photosynthesizing when the old lady’s hand brushed against his and she let a soft gasp slip out of .

 

“Young man, you have really nice skin. It’s really soft.” The woman held his hand for a few seconds, let it go, and craned her neck to take a gander at the side of Kyungsoo’s neck that was already turning pink because his skin was called soft. He was a drug lord. A mafia boss. Having his skin called soft was not really a part of the list of compliments he wanted to receive from anyone, let alone an old hag.

 

“What a shame, you have a really long tattoo at the side of your neck.” The old lady grimaced.

 

Kyungsoo really did not give a about her opinion regarding tattoos but the woman had her leathery palm at the crook of his neck and he was starting to feel very uncomfortable. Had he not been in an arm sling, he would have swatted her hand away and yelled at her for being alive. However, he was reminded that he’s in hiding and making a huge ruckus may lead to both his and Sehun’s demise.

 

“This isn’t in Hangul, isn’t it?”

 

“It’s Latin.” Kyungsoo smiled, eye twitching, as the old lady started massaging the side of his neck. She pulled at his collar to see the rest of the tattoo and he started wondering if he would have been able to file for ual assault if he’s an ordinary citizen without an already existing list of criminal records. He looked at his fellow cashier who was sitting on her counter a few feet away from him. The girl merely shrugged as she continued filing her nails.

 

“Oh my, it’s a really long phrase. What does it mean?”

 

Kyungsoo closed his eyes for a fraction of a second and settled his gaze back on the old lady’s eyes also staring at him through her spectacles. The tiny hairs at his nape were already standing because her hand was still on his neck and it was really cold. A small smile— a shy smile— creeped into Kyungsoo’s face and the old lady could not help but smile back, no teeth and all.

 

“It means off, grandma.”

 

Sehun, on the other hand, found himself a job in a farm one or two miles away from their run-down shack, as per Kyungsoo’s standards, or really okay house, as per Sehun’s standards. The taller man told him that his job’s to drive a tractor around the huge lot, carrying huge things to and fro. Kyungsoo hated his right-hand man because his “blending in” job was cooler than his stupid cashier job. He wanted to ride a tractor too and avoid ancient ual predators.

 

As for their actual occupations, Kyungsoo contacted his still-existing dealers and henchmen to be informed of their whereabouts. Most of them were injured and in hiding, some were effectively blending in like them, while the rest could no longer be contacted. They either ditched their positions under Kyungsoo’s now falling empire or were already dead somewhere. The drug lord sighed as he deleted numerous contact numbers. He still had so many to go through.

 

Sehun walked in the house an hour later, in his tacky overalls and boots, to the sight of Kyungsoo on the couch talking to someone over the phone with his voice low and barely audible. His boss’s eyes shifted to him for a moment, acknowledging his presence, before ending the phone call with a quick “I’m counting on you, Jongdae. See you in a few months.”

 

“Hi boss.”

 

Kyungsoo simply nodded at him, already tired after sitting in front of the cash register all day watching people pass by with their carts full of anything but vegetables, fruits, or meat. That grocery store should undergo extreme renovation, Kyungsoo casually thought to himself.

 

“How’s Jongdae?” Sehun asked after a few minutes from his place in the kitchen, opening the small fridge and cupboard only to find that his stash of unhealthy provisions had already run out and were replaced by vegetables, fruits, and meat.

 

With Sehun having his deflated back him, the younger man couldn’t see Kyungsoo’s slight simper before answering his question. “He’s back on his morning job. The lucky bastard saw our photos circulating in the internet so he had enough time to clean up his laboratory-” The drug lord saw how Sehun’s body shuddered as he let out a sigh of relief. “-or else he would have been the first one behind bars.”

 

Sehun, bobbing his head up and down in approval of Jongdae’s quick thinking, moved back to the living room to settle on his comforter right next to the couch. Lying down meant he had to be face to face with the soles of Kyungsoo’s feet because the punk refused to scoot even a tiny bit for him. The latter did not mind the face under him at all despite the taller man’s breath tickling his soles because he at least had the pleasure of not seeing Sehun’s annoying face.

 

A few minutes of silence ensued and Kyungsoo was feeling very comfortable, picking at the lint on his black hoodie, when he felt warm air brush against his soles and that’s when he knew. Sehun was going to talk.

 

“So, how was work today?”

 

Kyungsoo rolled his eyes so hard he thought they were gonna do a 360. A ing conversation. He wanted to firmly plant his feet on the dumb’s face.

 

“It was fine. Thanks again for getting me a stupid job that requires me to be seen by a lot of people that might recognize me as I put their in a brown bag. How was yours.”

 

The smaller man could feel his right-hand man’s impish grin from under and he didn’t like it at all. Compared to Sehun’s, Kyungsoo knew his job was relatively a breeze. He’s not stupid. He knew that Sehun was not assigned to solely tractor duties only. Judging by the chunks of dried mud the guy had to scrape off his boots daily, Kyungsoo could tell that Sehun purposefully brought tasks after tasks upon himself in the farm to earn enough for the bills they have to pay.

 

They swore that they wouldn’t use their credit cards or even withdraw from the bank under any circumstance to minimize the possibility of being tracked down. They were basically living off of what they earned from their “blending in” occupations. It was killing Kyungsoo already.

 

The first night they stayed in their shack slash house, both pulled out their wallets to put whatever bills they had to use. Sehun had just about enough to buy them cheap clothes and underwear that would last for a week. Kyungsoo only ever used credit cards because he never thought that he would one day need to go back to the primitive ways of the world for the safety of his sorry .

 

Sehun offered that he could quickly drive back to Seoul to get themselves pocket money and better clothes because he was tired of Kyungsoo complaints. The drug lord had to shake his head at Sehun’s proposition, already certain that the taller man would not make it back alive had he driven the car out into the main road of Daegu. He could deal with the knock-off hoodies and shirts the taller man brought from the side of the street at a bargain price.

 

“My day was splendid. Thank you for asking.” Sehun said, pulling Kyungsoo out of his reverie.

 

“What’d you do this time.”

 

“We didn’t need to use the tractor today so boss put me on milking duty.”

 

Kyungsoo groaned internally. Sehun started explaining in detail how to firmly grasp the cow’s teats— “or you can call them s if you want.”— and squeeze them with just the right amount of pressure for them to lactate steadily.

 

“Make sure the udders— or like the s— are really milked through. If they look like your grandmother’s old milkers, then congratulations. They may not look pleasing to your eyes but we really want to make sure everything’s been released. We also don’t want to give the cow mastitis.”

 

After explaining what mastitis was, Sehun briefed him again of the gruelling process he went through in case Kyungsoo would forget.

 

“You just have to squeeze the teats firmly but don’t tug or pull. I think it will hurt them.” Sehun explained while lying down with his hands again demonstrating how to milk a cow high in the air for Kyungsoo to see.

 

“So if ever your are in pain, I think I can h-“

 

Kyungsoo spent the rest of his night bundled up in his own comforter on the couch, lightly humming to himself in satisfaction as he drank a cup of steaming hot chocolate he made after stomping on Sehun’s face.

 

Needless to say, the red-faced man kept his words and thoughts about teats or to himself after that.