NOW—SOMEWHERE CATASTROPHIC

Baekhyun ducked down underneath the bushes, and smacked his own head because he realised that plants are, after all, flammable. He looked around for a nearby place to hide, and he ushered Chanyeol behind the large black bins just not far from where they squatted and they placed themselves there, breathing heavily, watching the fire grow between the small slithered gap between the bins.

“Uh-oh spaghetti-o’s,” Chanyeol said under his breath, and he screamed as Baekhyun smacked him.

“Please stop saying that,” Baekhyun cringed, pulling at his own hair, “Not now,”

“But it’s my emotional support catchphrase,” Chanyeol whined, and Baekhyun smacked him again.

“I have one wish and it’s for you to stop acting like a just on this occasion, please?” Baekhyun pleaded, and both boys ducked their heads when they heard a crash. Baekhyun peeked his head just above the bins and saw that the fire had grew infinitely bigger, and his lungs were becoming more and more uncomfortable by the second. The house that had seemed so grand then was now reduced into a silhouette of black, curling in red and yellow. Whatever explosion that had caused the crash that they heard, it had reached the nearby bushes where they previously hid. Chanyeol rubbed his eyes and groaned.

“Ohhh boy,” Chanyeol raked a hand through his black hair, just as sooty as his hands, and he breathed out loudly amongst the crackles of the fire, “That man is so dead. We killed him for sure, Baek. And then we burnt his house. We are so over with. I’m going to jail.”

“I thought you were okay with going to jail because you’re an anarchist,” Baekhyun hissed, and Chanyeol looked at him with a frustrated yet panicky expression.

“I—It’s different now!” Chanyeol said exasperatedly, and whatever Baekhyun said in response, it died with sudden sirens blaring in earshot. Both boys looked at each other in panic and they fled immediately, grabbing each other’s wrists, dragging each other to run.

“I am so dead, I am so dead, I am so dead,” Chanyeol cried, running through the road where they’ve parked their car, but the vehicle seems so far away now. Baekhyun shouted at him and told him to shut up, but Chanyeol only grew more frantic when he heard the sounds of a helicopter flying above them, illuminating their bodies with bright light.

“, me, ,” Baekhyun cursed. They got to the car and both of them threw themselves inside their seats. Chanyeol was already sobbing and blubbering, but he somehow managed to pull the car keys out of his pockets and rev the car to life. Chanyeol jammed his foot on the accelerator and Baekhyun felt the wind immediately hit his face, and he suddenly hated open-hooded cars.

“I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die,” Chanyeol sobbed as he drove, to which Baekhyun screamed in frustration, looking at the multiple cop vehicles that were after them now.

“We are not going to ing die, just keep driving!”

“Oh B-Baek,” Chanyeol blubbered, taking his eyes off the road to look at Baekhyun, “it’s been s-so nice meeting you—“

“ing hell, shut the up and just drive!” Baekhyun hollered. Chanyeol, however, had made a fatal mistake in taking his eyes off the road and his brain could only slowly process the car driving straight off the road, flying into the air with great bravado. Baekhyun felt the air violently raking his hair, like a fork scalping his head, and before he could think, the car spun in rampant fashion and smashed into the ground, rolling like a barrel until it rested on its hood, Baekhyun’s wispy hair touching the wet ground as he hung upside-down in his seat.

_____

THEN—CIRCA 3 MONTHS AGO, SOMEWHERE MUCH NICER

Baekhyun hated his father for two reasons. One, Kim Junmyeon wasn’t actually his father, and two, Junmyeon had this sort of hate-able face. The rest of the body was fine; it fit the title of the country’s wealthy millionaire, running businesses that provided most of the town with jobs—the face, however, Baekhyun so severely hated. Junmyeon’s jaw protruded like a shark’s head, though his nose was much like a pug. His eyes were adequately almond-shaped but the pupils seemed so small, so that he looked like he was squinting at you all the time. The rest of his face was then flat but Junmyeon’s cheeks looked like it had silicones underneath it, so that they looked permanently full all the time. This face often looked at Baekhyun scornfully, and the latter had made a habit of looking at Junmyeon’s neck instead whenever his (not) father talked to him.

“Baekhyun, please,” Junmyeon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Today was Baekhyun’s birthday—so Junmyeon tried to be nice today. More specifically, it was his eighteenth birthday. Baekhyun knew why Junmyeon adopted him; he and his wife couldn’t bear children, which was supposedly important as they needed an heir to Junmyeon’s company. When Baekhyun’s father died, who was better to fill in that position? So from the age of twelve, Baekhyun begrudgingly lived in Junmyeon’s house, and he hated every single day he spent there.

So Junmyeon’s trying to be nice now, to somehow compensate the ty six years he’s been treating him. The end goal is to convince Baekhyun to step up as the rightful successor to Junmyeon’s position when he dies. So far, Junmyeon isn’t doing a great job.

Baekhyun did everything to spite Junmyeon. He never matched with his socioeconomic status. Baekhyun had dyed his hair this wispy blonde, and often flat out refused the neat, tailored clothes that Junmyeon often bought him. His fur-adorned shoes are now resting on the glass table, slowly pushing away the cake that the kitchen had baked him, and Junmyeon averts his eyes when he saw that the cake was inches away from falling onto the floor.

“I don’t want to be the successor of your stupid company,” Baekhyun muttered. The other two people in the room sighed—besides Junmyeon, there was his wife, Eun. Baekhyun hated her equally, because although she was genuinely nice, she often stuck up to her husband.

“Sweetheart (Baekhyun scoffed), please listen to what your father has to say,” Eun says softly, and Baekhyun—oh, Baekhyun, dare he say it…?

“I don’t want to listen to anything that my uncle has to say,” Baekhyun spat, and he smirks triumphantly when his adoptive parents let out a collective gasp. Well it was true—they were both his uncle and aunt, and took him under their wing when his own father died. The thing was that the whole thing was kind of a taboo subject, and Baekhyun loved nothing more than watch his uncle squirm on his seat whenever he brought it up.

“Baekhyun, we’ve talked about this before,” Junmyeon said, trying to keep his voice steady, “I know you’re still bitter about what happened, but as far as I’m concerned, as far as the papers are concerned, I’m your father now.”

“Maybe,” Baekhyun bit his bottom lip, knowing that what he’s about to say was definitely, definitely a taboo subject, but he’s Byun Baekhyun and he’s going to say it anyway.

“Maybe,” Baekhyun cleared his throat, “Maybe if you hadn’t took him off his life support and waited for him to wake up—”

“Baekhyun—” Junmyeon started up dangerously, but Baekhyun slammed the table and roared at him.

“Maybe if you hadn’t killed him just so you can usurp his company and eliminate your own stupid company’s competition, maybe I’ll still have my ing father well alive and taking care of me instead of you adopting me so you can have a—an heir to your -kissing company—”

Ohh, that’s it. Baekhyun’s done it. Junmyeon slams the table, breathing harshly, and usually when he does this, Baekhyun had pushed it too far. Eun had her hands over , like some sort of silly damsel under oppression, but Baekhyun knew he was right. His father was killed, simple as that. Well, lawfully, he supposed, because Junmyeon did in fact sign the papers and the doctors agreed, but if he had just waited a couple more days…

“Out,” Junmyeon said slowly, pointing to the door, “Now.”

“Gladly,” Baekhyun spat. He kicked the cake off the table and watched as his aunt’s face fell miserably, forlornly looking at the cake smashed into the floor. Baekhyun stormed off and marched outside, screaming into the air and kicking the dirt.

It wasn’t as if he was this foolhardy teenager. He was far from a manchild. Well alright, he might overreact sometimes. He might be just a little bit sensitive and stubborn and not listen to what anyone else has to say. Might. But that doesn’t change the fact that Junmyeon had gone up and straight up murdered his father and made it look like he didn’t want his brother to suffer any longer. Baekhyun thought that his tantrums are fair enough compared to what Junmyeon did.

Baekhyun loved his father. His mother might’ve not been around after she died from childbirth, but his father took the role of both parents. He single-handedly built up a company from scratch, when his father’s own parents disowned him for having a child out of wedlock. He did all of that and still had time to love his own son. Junmyeon? He just took over the family company—you know, like a loser. It was just unfortunate enough that his father fell ill, and Junmyeon saw it as a chance to smite out competition to his business…

Baekhyun sat on the porch, sniffing. He dreaded life here, within the walls of Junmyeon’s mansion. Junmyeon wasn’t exactly a strict parent but Baekhyun hated his face all the same.

Baekhyun frowned. Well—he didn’t have to put up with it…

He resolved it. Well, he’s eighteen now, right? They’re not in control of him anymore. Baekhyun smiled from this realisation, and jumped up. Well, that was a of luck. He didn’t have to face all of this anymore. He can just… run away.

Baekhyun thought about it. He’ll definitely leave his phone and his cards—they could be tracked down and