Chapter Text
There’s one thing Han Jisung knows about life.
“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?”
You’re on your own.
He barely hears the shout before he’s sprinting away. He doesn’t risk explaining himself. The shop owners never care why anyway.
Forced to figure your own way, to carve your own path.
“Get back here!”
To save yourself.
He can hear the pounding of his heartbeat reverberating throughout his skull. He hears it chanting in his mind.
Ba-bump.
Ba-bump.
Just run.
Keep running.
Keep going.
Don’t stop.
You can’t rely on others to save you.
He can’t stop. Doesn’t dare to look behind him. He weaves between the people on the sidewalk, dodging businessmen and families alike. They all have other things to worry about, their own issues. Who cares why he’s running?
Even in your darkest moments, the light has to come from you.
No one cares. So neither does he. When he sees perfectly good food being thrown away, why shouldn’t he take it? Why do they even care?
You have to be your own hope.
He ducks through alleys. He knows these streets like the back of his hand. He’ll be fine. He just has to keep running. Keep breathing. Don’t stop.
Your greatest support.
The wind is chilled in the evening air, his eyes watering because of it. The tears don’t fall, however. He won’t let them.
Your savior.
He ducks into an alleyway on his right. His back slams against the brick wall as he holds his breath, hoping he lost his pursuer.
Because no one else will.
As the pounding of his heart slows and the hiccuping of his breath evens out, Jisung slumps against the wall. He should have listened to his gut. He knew something was going to go wrong. It had to, because nothing in his life could go right for longer than a second.
He kicks a stray can on the floor of the alley, the anger not dissipating, but quieting.
The anger never actually leaves. Anger at his life, his ‘situation,’ his job, his boss, his parents, himself. It builds and builds inside of him. He’s learned to use it over the years, channel it into something productive, something good. He uses it when he’s unloading shipments for the store, he uses it when he misses the bus and needs to run to work, he uses it when he forces the door of his apartment open after it jams.
There’s a lot in his life that never goes away. The anger, the hunger, the longing, the stupid neighbors who won’t stop fucking at 2 A.M. in the apartment right above his.
But he’s learned to live with it all. He’s learned these things are a part of him.
(Not the neighbors. They can still fuck right off.)
He shakes off the last of the tension, slipping further into the alley. Spotting the overpriced coffee shop across the street, he reorients himself. He’s across town now, a bit of a walk from his apartment, but he’ll manage. It’s not like he has much waiting for him there anyway. Not a dinner, not a lover, not a family.
Is this what life is? Running? Why can’t he just rest? Why can’t it all go away?
As he rounds the corner, so does someone else. He stumbles a bit, but he’s quick to regain his footing. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles. She must have dropped her bag, as its contents are lying at his feet. He's not a total asshole, so he helps her to pick it up.
“That’s quite alright, dearie.” Her voice is rough, yet somehow soothing to him. Jisung hands the older woman the last of her items as she says, “You’re a kind young man.”
He laughs awkwardly, knowing that’s far from the truth. “Thank you, ma’am.”
She stares at him for a moment too long. “Life has been cruel to you.” The statement startles him, but he feels glued to the spot. Frozen in time. “This next adventure will lead you to your path of happiness. Just don’t be afraid to walk it,” she finishes with a smile, patting him on the shoulder.
Jisung stands stunned as the woman brushes past him. Only a moment has passed before he turns to her. “What—”
She’s gone.
Jisung rubs his eyes. It’s been a long day, and he’s probably just tired. He just needs some sleep.
He heads back to his apartment, never quite shaking the odd feeling the interaction left him with. Even as he takes his shower— freezing and fast, as usual— and brushes his teeth, even as he tucks himself into bed and shuts his eyes, her words keep echoing.
The first thing he notices is the cold.
As long as he's lived there, the heat in his apartment has never worked right. He’s contacted his landlord, filed a complaint, but it's never changed anything. Like every other inconvenience in life, he's learned to live with it; his two blankets usually make up for the lost warmth. As he slowly wakes, he realizes they're both missing. His alarm hasn't gone off yet, so he knows he can go back to sleep. Without opening his eyes, hoping to preserve the sleepiness, he pats the area beside him.
When his hand reaches out, he isn’t met with the blankets. Instead, he’s met with concrete.
Sighing, he resigns himself to the fact that he’s not getting any more sleep. Blinking his eyes open, he’s initially confused by the lack of darkness. Did he forget to close his curtains?
“What the fuck?”
While this isn’t his first time waking up in an alley, it’s definitely his strangest. Mostly because he doesn’t remember falling asleep.
Well, that’s a lie. He did fall asleep, just not here.
Looking around, he doesn’t even recognize the alley. He tries to think of any reason he'd fall asleep in an unfamiliar alley and then wake up and not remember— it's not looking good. He quickly checks himself for injuries, not finding anything.
“What the fuck…” he repeats, confused and still half asleep.
Deciding that sitting there isn’t going to do him any good, he stands.
Now what?
He scratches his neck absentmindedly, trying to weigh his options. Before he even starts to figure out why he’s here, he needs to figure out where here is.
Even after looking around again, he doesn’t recognize the alley. Stepping out into the street, he realizes nothing there looks familiar either. A map would probably be helpful right now.
He almost slaps himself when he realizes. He has a phone. But when he reaches into his pocket, he notices that it’s missing too.
First his blankets, then his memories, now his phone?
Taking a deep breath, he decides to ask someone to borrow their phone. If he can just get an idea of where he is, he can figure out how to get home from there. He walks out onto the sidewalk, which isn’t exactly bustling with people. However, he does see a taller woman wearing a suit walking towards him.
Just breathe.
“Excuse me, miss,” he starts, laying on the charm. As she approaches, the scent of her perfume gets stronger, and so does her scowl. She eyes him up and down, nose scrunching up, judging in a way Jisung doesn’t understand. She walks straight past him, not even stopping to hear him out.
What was that?
He looks down at himself, wondering if he missed any large stains or rips in his clothes. Maybe he smells? Subtly, he sniffs his armpit. Not any more than usual.
It’s all just strange.
Scratching his neck, he makes up his mind. He can’t just stay here forever, so he decides to start walking around. Maybe he'll find a landmark he recognizes.
It’s been two hours and he still has no clue where he is. He’ll think he recognizes something only for it to be slightly off. A cliff he used to sit and watch the sunset from, but the grocery store underneath nowhere to be found. The weird split-in-half tree that he used to climb, but a different school down the road.
Not to mention the people he’s been passing. When someone stares at him in the street, it’s almost never a kind gaze. He’s used to that— at least he should be, with how often it happens. But now, even just walking down the street, the hairs on the back of his neck stand. He tries to look around, see why he has a bad feeling in his gut, but nothing is out of the ordinary.
No one’s following too close, glancing at him for more than a second, or lingering just ahead. Everyone seems to be going about their day.
He sighs, looking towards the sky. The sunset paints the world around him in orange and gold. He woke up a few hours ago yet the exhaustion is starting to settle in. If he can’t find his way to his apartment before nightfall, he’ll just have to camp out for the night.
His stomach starts to growl. Turning his pockets inside out, he reconfirms his wallet is nowhere to be found either.
Dumpster diving it is.
In an unfamiliar area, Jisung needs to be extra careful. Some alleys may be claimed, some dumpsters off limits. He’s learned the hard way that it's best not to mess with anyone else’s territory. It’s early evening, meaning most businesses have not closed yet; it’s less likely they've taken out the trash that day, and less likely he’ll find any food. Still, he has to try.
Scanning the area, he weighs his options. The grocery store is a no-go, and the chain coffee places always keep their shit locked. Around the corner, he sees a building that catches his eye. It’s pretty tall, outside walls lined with windows. He doesn’t recognize it, so he’s not entirely sure why he feels this pull. It can’t hurt to try.
He looks down the alley, mentally preparing himself to be disappointed.
Instead, he sees a dumpster. An unlocked dumpster.
With a sigh of relief, Jisung takes one last look around before making his way over. He hefts the top open. There’s not much in it, but the few bags at the bottom seem promising. He leans over the side of the dumpster to get a closer look. Just as Jisung manages to grab one, he hears footsteps come to a stop at the mouth of the alley.
Not wanting to be caught unawares, he whips up. Stumbling to his feet, he drops the bag. There’s a man standing there. Jisung sizes the man up. He’s taller than Jisung, broader, but definitely too cocky. The man whistles, rubbing his hands together and smirking like a predator who’s spotted its next meal. “Almost didn’t see you there, baby!”
On any other day, he could probably take him easily. Today, the stars in his vision say otherwise. He hasn’t eaten in a while and it’s starting to catch up with him. “As if this headache wasn’t already bad enough,” he mumbles to himself. He really hopes the man will realize he has no money and just keep walking.
The man approaches. “What’s a cutie like you doing not covering up your scent?”
Jisung is taken aback. What did he say? He subtly tries to smell himself again, but instead, he gets a whiff of the strongest cologne he’s ever smelled. The reaction is instinctual. He recoils, covering his nose. “Dude, you reek!”
He probably shouldn’t have said that, but can you blame him? He was caught off guard! And in his defense, it definitely shouldn’t be the first time this guy has heard it.
The man starts growling at him.
…What the fuck.
At this point, Jisung couldn’t care less about the possible food. He needs to get out of whatever situation this has become. “Ok,” he starts, clapping his hands together. “While I have thoroughly enjoyed our talk thus far, I think it’s time for me to go.” He awkwardly finger-guns his way around the man, hoping to make a swift exit. As he goes to pass him, the man slams his hand against the wall next to Jisung’s face.
“You’re not going anywhere, beta.”
Rude. At least, he thinks? The man spits it out like it’s an insult.
Fuck, now he actually has to fight.
As he’s mentally preparing himself to fight this stinky man, he hears a voice from the street. “Hey, asshole! Leave him alone,” an accented voice shouts. Though on the shorter side, something about the man oozes power.
Stinky turns, not moving his arm from the wall. “And who do you think you’re talking to?”
“Me? I’m talking to the arrogant alpha who apparently can't keep his hands to himself.”
This also seems to be a grievous insult because Stinky turns to face the man, completely forgetting about Jisung for the moment. On one hand, he’s grateful for the distraction, allowing him to slip out from underneath the man unnoticed. But on the other hand, he didn’t need the help. Yeah, it would have sucked to get into a fight, but he’s not some damsel in distress that needs saving.
“Why don’t you just mind your own business, bro. This doesn’t concern you.”
The only way out of the alley is now blocked by the two strangers locked in a stare-down. Great. He scratches at his neck, trying to figure out his next move. The only thing he can think to do is leave. Best case scenario, the men get so caught up in each other’s eyes that they forget about him.
Probably won’t be the case, but it can’t hurt to hope.
Jisung starts walking away when he feels a yank at his wrist. “Where do you th—” the voice is interrupted by a grunt as Jisung instinctually punches him in the face.
The second man stares in shock as Jisung dusts off his hands. Stinky is knocked out cold on the floor.
“Hey, Chris!” A deep voice calls out. “I thought you were gonna wait inside?” Another man approaches the alley. He’s around the same height as ‘Chris,’ with longer blond hair and a slimmer build. He turns to peek inside the alley, eyes widening at the scene, but Jisung doesn’t care. He just needs to find another alley— hopefully one less crowded than this one’s become.
“Hey, wait man,” the first man begins, reaching a hand out then seemingly thinking better of it. Good.
“What do you want?” Jisung snaps.
“Are you o—” ‘Chris’ hesitates. “Are you safe?”
The question takes him aback. Did he not just see him defend himself perfectly fine? Scoffing, Jisung deflects. “Look, I know you got some sort of savior complex going on, but I don’t need saving. I had it handled.”
The two men pause, taking in the scene: Jisung’s rumpled appearance, the enclosed alley, the trash bag on the floor next to the dumpster. It all paints a pretty clear picture, if you know what to look for.
Apparently, ‘Chris’ does. “What about shelter?”
It hits Jisung like a slap to the face.
He’s always been good at taking hits.
“I’m fine.”
The two seem to exchange a worried glance. “How about we walk you to the nearest shelter? It’s not safe for you to be outside like this.”
He scoffs at that. They keep talking like they know what’s best for him, like they know anything about him! “I don't need your pity. I can handle myself just fine.”
The two share another glance. Ugh. He wishes they’d stop doing that. “It’s gonna get cold, and we can’t leave you here like this.”
“You definitely can. It’s actually simple. See?” Jisung snarks, walking away. The two seemingly don’t get the hint, following him.
A minute feels like a lot longer when you’re being followed.
“If you want to help so bad,” Jisung begins, sighing. He might as well take advantage of the fact that someone is offering help. “Let me use your phone.” They scramble to pull the phones from their pockets, but it’s no use.
“I’m sorry, mate,” is all he hears before Jisung once again spins on his heels. To think he got his hopes up for nothing.
“There’s a shelter a few blocks from here. It’s on our way,” the deeper voice calls. Jisung has no clue why they’re being so insistent.
But it’s on their way.
He pauses. His gut should be screaming at him; he knows better than to follow strangers, especially those who claim they want to help. For some reason, he feels like he should trust them.
It’s a weird feeling.
“Fine,” he relents, turning to meet their eyes. He doesn’t see any malice in them. He sees relief, he sees kindness, he sees empathy. He sees his reflection staring back. He sees himself shiver.
“Here,” the first man says. He shucks the jacket from his well-defined shoulders. “I run hot.”
He sees the jacket outstretched, waiting to be grabbed. He sees the encouraging smile, the freckled cheeks, the raised eyebrows.
He sees himself grabbing the jacket.
The scent of a fire engulfs him. It should smell like smoke filling his lungs, choking him and pulling him under. Instead, it smells like warmth.