The old Baekhyun used to hate his repetitious life. He’d wake up, check on his little sister, check to see if his mom was sober—to which, she’d never been, and then, go to school. After school, he’d go right to his part-time job at the Farmhouse Diner.

He’d been working there since he was sixteen. He loved the old chef who would sneak him food now and then. He also loved his regulars. Two elder ladies who would usually dine in from five to six PM. They tipped him the most, calling him sweet pet names.

But even that wasn’t enough for him to like his life. His shift wouldn’t end until twelve AM. So after getting home, it was straight to homework. He usually wouldn’t get it done until two AM. And that was it. That was his life. He’d get up and repeat.

But that was until yesterday happened.

Even with the worst of his life buried six feet under, he still had to find a way to live. Being seventeen in this world didn’t help his case as much as he’d like.

“Here ya go, kid.” Lu-Ann is waiting outside near the steps to his humble abode. Baekhyun didn’t know how she’d known that he usually got off at this hour, but he was too worn out to care. He had some difficult drunk customers today. One of them had gotten into a bar fight with another person.

Baekhyun, of course, being one of the only young men there, was forced to break the fight. One of the men had managed to jab Baekhyun across his left cheek. He’d gone to ice it earlier, but the damage was already done. The bruise was nasty.

Lu-Ann hands him something right off the bat as he begins up the steps.

Baekhyun lifts the slip of paper, squinting his eyes so he can read it. “What is it?”

“Eviction notice,” she responds timely and without apology.

His brows furrow, mouth turning grim, when he responds defensively, “seriously? My mother just died, or are you living under a rock?”

She merely shrugs. Lu-Ann shows no empathy as she tugs her Chanel bag closer to her. It pisses him off. “No can do, kid. Y’all were already four months behind on rent. I can’t risk it anymore,” she contests.

Baekhyun tries to rack his brain for an answer. Any answer to his impending problems. He thought that his mother would at least account for rent with the money she’d gotten from the government. After all, Baekhyun had taken on the responsibility of almost everything else. That was supposed to be their agreement. Yet, in the end, she couldn’t even do that one thing.

He scoffs quietly. The feeling of doom sinks further and further down his stomach, and each time he swallows, it feels like there are rocks in his throat and stomach. Finally, he implores hopefully, “I can pay you, but only one month’s rent for now. I can get the rest—“

Lu-Ann shakes her head firmly. “No way, kid. I don’t rent out to minors. Unless you can come back with somebody over the age of twenty-one, there’s no deal. I’m really sorry that I have to do this to you.”

His eyes rake over the older woman in disdain. “Sorry?” He echoes her words venomously. “In case you forgot, you didn’t do .” He realizes that his words are accusing, but he’s angry. Hell, at this point, does it matter what he says?

Lu-Ann previously lived next to them for years. She heard everything. She could see the physical marks of abuse on his skin. She could hear his mother cry. But she let it happen. All of the times Baekhyun was beaten and starved, a simple sorry didn't take it all back.

“We all try our best to live with our hardships, but sometimes, you gotta realize that there are some things you can’t change. Maybe it’s in your blood, kid. I can’t risk it.”

He grounds his jaw in complete and total disbelief. “You're a coward. You’ve always been. You don’t get to make excuses for yourself. There is no we. There’s only you. I don’t have any more attachments to this place." He raises his hand, pointing a jagged finger in her face. “You don’t get to tell me how to live my ing life.”

Baekhyun doesn’t bother waiting for her to leave when he enters his home, slamming his door in her face.

He sinks down on the other side of the door, trying to hide from the world. The cold, difficult world that relentlessly throws him problems way over his head.

Lu-Ann leans into the crack of the door, informing him that he has until tomorrow. Then, she’s gone, and Baekhyun finds himself in the same painful position.

Trapped and alone.

Realistically, there wasn’t a single place that would rent out to minors. He could stay with his friends, but he obviously didn't have that option long-term.

Just before he can peruse another thought, there’s a knock behind him. Baekhyun stands to open it, and outside is Oh Sehun with a grim expression.

Exhaling, Baekhyun prickly catechizes, “what now?”

Oh Sehun is the officer who often seems to show up to this place every time there had been a call for a disturbance or suspected domestic violence. Sehun always tried his best to get Baekhyun help, but in the end, his mother outsmarted all the officials.

When Baekhyun was seven years old, Sehun promised that he would find a new home for the boy. But even to the optimistic seven-year-old, he’d already known that it was impossible. Though, he did appreciate that Sehun sympathized with him. Sehun was the only one who showed him normal emotions—wincing when he saw the newly colored bruises on top of Baekhyun’s old ones.

Baekhyun couldn’t even count the number of times on his hand when the latter came back, radiating in anger, as he broke the news that CPS couldn’t do anything for Baekhyun.

Sehun hands him a piece of paper. Baekhyun grunts unhappily, knowing that receiving another piece of paper was yet a good thing.

The officer tries his best to remain eye contact, but Baekhyun can see him struggling to do so. “I’m so sorry, kiddo. We investigated her death, and it was a suicide.”

And for a second there, all Baekhyun felt was dead calm—as calm as the crimson sky on a new moon. Baekhyun loved it when the moon disappeared because it felt like a rebellion. He could never break from the monotony of his life, but seeing the moon not show up made him revel in trivial happiness. He used to think that finding beauty in trivial things would make his worthless life purposeful. Somehow. It was stupid optimism.

He was wrong. The calmness didn’t last very long. “Right,” he breathes, “of course, she did.” Baekhyun allows his arms to fall limb by his sides.

The anger and despair burned up inside of him. He felt like drowning in a ring of fire. The ever-so haunting questions pop up in his head like persistent error messages.

Why was I born? Is living even worth it anymore?

Except, this time, there was no ok button to bypass the message. It was as simple as having no answer. Baekhyun wasn’t sure just how much more disappointment he could take.

As ed up as it was, things were better when he chose to believe his mother died in an accidental overdose. It meant that she still had something to cling to. Maybe it wasn’t him. Maybe it wasn’t Sohyun. But that meant the possibility of her still being alive.

Suicide changed everything. Even if they brought her back, it would be as if she were a dead person in viable flesh with a beating heart. It meant that no matter what he did, it was inevitable. All the promises she made after her other attempts were half-hearted at best.

So Baekhyun felt lied to, betrayed by the person who conceived him by mistake.

Sehun clears his throat. “I would recommend against reading the letter—“

“Can I be alone?”

The officer tries to assess Baekhyun’s current mental state, but there was nothing to see. All Baekhyun feels is numbness, and there are no words or emotions to express the deadweight on his shoulders.

“Please,” he repeats, breathing steadily.

After Sehun reluctantly heads to his car, Baekhyun decides that it was best to get it over with as soon as possible. He’d rather swallow the grenade now than wait for it to explode on him.

My son,

I’m sorry for being the mother I am. I admit, I had you young, and it would’ve probably been better for you if you were never born.

I guess it’s easier to tell you the truth now rather than never. You and Sohyun don’t share the same father. The truth is: I woke up and alone after a college party, and so, unfortunately, you’ll never really know who your real father is.

I was young, Baekhyun. I had big dreams. I wanted to escape poverty. I thought that once I had you, maybe I could learn to love you. But every time I look at you, you look like the man that I never knew. The man that violated and stole my life from me.

It tears me apart, darling. I know you don’t hold much affection for the father you’ve always known, but I did.

He was the only one who stayed after my parents kicked me out. I could accept the beating from him because I knew I wouldn’t be alone.

But, like everything else, you took him from me. I really tried my best to forget about what happened that day, but if you’re reading this, it would seem that I couldn’t. Because when I look at you, I find myself asking the same question every day. Did I raise a monster? It’s wrong. I’m aware. So, really, I shouldn’t be allowed to live with the resentment I hold for you in my heart.

I’m not going to apologize for dying, but I’ll apologize for letting you know the truth too late. Live on if you’re able to. Don’t blame yourself for what I did.

Farewell, Baekhyun.

###

Baekhyun couldn’t sleep because when he did, his parents haunted his dreams. None were good memories. They were all memories that made Baekhyun’s chest swell with fear.

When he was little, he developed coping mechanisms to help him get through the night. But unfortunately, none of them did the trick. When he opened his eyes, he was still in the same place, still trapped with nowhere else to go.

In the morning, he left everything with the exception of his clothes. There wasn’t much besides his work uniform or his casual clothes. Ironically, as he shut the door to the godforsaken place, Baekhyun felt slightly relieved. But even the relief couldn’t provide him with stability because now, he had no home.

Not that he ever truly had a home anyway.

Baekhyun arrived at school with a heavy heart. He’d gone most of the day with his hood over, hiding in plain sight. He just didn’t have the strength to feign confidence. To be the person everyone expected him to be.

He went to class without meeting his friends. He ignored all of his teachers, pretending to sleep so no one would ask him questions that he’d have to avoid. He dodged girls, expecting him in their bedroom sometime during this week.

“You’re late,” Noeul announces when he arrives at the library. She stands near the table in the back of the unused study room.

Baekhyun grunts out a half-hearted apology.

She places both hands on her hips, fixing an annoyed look at him. “You can’t keep ditching or showing up over an hour late. It’s unacceptable, Baekhyun. I know that Ms. Soto is too nice to say anything because she likes you, but there needs to be some consistency. You need to start being more responsi— “

“Can you please just shut your ing mouth for once?” Baekhyun lashes out, slamming his things on the table—just nearly missing her.

Noeul flinches, her eyes swimming with an emotion he’s never seen directed at him before.

Fear.

Baekhyun goes slack and any previous irritation that he had flushed out from beneath him. “I’m sorry,” he mutters, turning to leave. To distance himself before he could regret his actions.

For some idiotic reason, Noeul grabs his arm. “Are you okay?”

Baekhyun ignores the flare of annoyance. He’d almost forgotten how many times his friends asked him today. The answer was the same, and he didn’t have the heart to tell them to off. He could smile at her, but she’d be able to tell from a mile away.

In the wake of his silence, Noeul sighs to herself. “No. Actually, don’t answer that. I won’t apologize, but whatever you’re going through, act accordingly. Just don’t regret anything, okay?”

He tears his eyes away from her because her expression is too much. And seeing her like this made him weak. “You know absolutely nothing about me.”

She huffs, laughing incredulously. “No, Baekhyun, look at me.” When he doesn’t comply, she places both her palms on his cheeks, tugging him until he’s looking into her eyes. “You can’t keep pushing people away. Look at you. I can’t keep to myself when you look like you’re seconds away from falling apart. Call me selfish but—”

Baekhyun takes a shallow, rapid inhale of air, heavily weighed down by his stubbornness to shut her down. He doesn’t know what he’s thinking when he roughly captures her lips.

Noeul doesn’t move an inch, so at the height of the kiss, he jerks away, feeling even tier than the kind of crap that life liked to throw at him.

Her cheeks are flushed as she glares at him with murderous intent. But instead of murdering him, she snaps, “wrong choice, .”

Baekhyun exhales shakily, running a hand through his hair. He feels his eyes burn with hot tears because it was as if the weight of the world was too hard to bear. She was right. He really was on the brink of collapse.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. His voice breaks, mirroring the exact unraveling of his front.

Noeul’s eyes widen at the sight of his trembling hands. She approaches him, and he flinches. Seeing this, she gently pulls him toward her, taking both of his hands between her own. “Tell me who did this?”

Her humility makes him want to laugh as much as it made him want to cry. Why did such a useless question make his heart race and his head spin? Why did it make him feel seen?

When he meets her eyes, he sees that she’s absolutely serious.

Those same pair of eyes flutter close, and when he blinks, she’s meeting him halfway. She tastes like melancholy, the truth lying thick and heavy between them.

Besides him, Noeul was the only person who knew what it was like to truly lose everything, and he wasn’t sure that was such a good thing.