Those distinct velvet cushions seemed to bring his body even closer to the center of nothingness as sounds of laughter and cheers all muddled down to a low hum in the back of his mind. Reaching over with glass snug tight between his thumb and pointer finger, one or two shots of God knows what turned into several more. Down they went, right to his stomach and numbing whatever remaining ache he had from the previous mishap of beating a guy straight to death. While of course, it may not have been the most tedious task at hand for someone of his nature, but once Junho became stressed, it was a challenge to shake completely off. Cuts and bruises could all fade away with time and a few handfuls of painkillers in his system, but words and insults stuck with him far worse than what any gunshot wound could do to him depending on the situation at hand. The brunette was very critical of himself, practically to the point he hated his entire existence almost exclusively; a thought process he was taught at a very young age when things weren't going particularly as planned. Horrible day? It's all your fault; you're a disgrace.
You should have never been born at all.
Setting the glass down with twitching tips, Junho leaned his head back against the couch and fluttered his eyes shut, inhaling and exhaling deep from the pit of his stomach until a surge of dizziness washed over his senses. He technically didn't want to be here, a lost cause without reason, but he knew he would get a mouthful later if he didn't show for at least a few minutes. It was the holiday season after all; he had to be a little cordial even though December wasn't exactly his month of family and joy. Other than the annoying bunch making an appearance there, probably forced too, he had none. No parents, no siblings, no distant cousins or family friends;
nothing. They all ran out on him when his father took his last breath and from that day forward he was alone and always had been. The absence of joy or elation even was derived from just that occasion. He didn't want anyone,
need anyone; it was just him and his job of earning money and beating people senseless in a constant cycle of ups and downs. What was there to complain? Life was shit anyway.
As he was soaking there in a heavy pool of his emotional problems, a high-pitched voice had brought him back to reality only to make him sigh deeply under his breath. Without even having to think twice about who it actually was, a couple of awkwardly wrapped boxes were tossed into his lap with nothing but smiles and giggles. Opening up just one of his peepers, he bent his neck forward and stared at them for just a moment before looking back up to Gongchan with dark, furrowed brows.
"You didn't have to.. Really.." He murmured, words starting to string together due to the hard liquor tainting his tongue. Little by little, Junho took his time to tear at the wrapping paper until the contents were revealed in all their glory. Each of them, side by side, were plain boxes of different flavored chocopies, a relatively cheap, savory treat he enjoyed feasting on in his past time. The fact that Gongchan had actually took the effort to notice his unusual sweet tooth, floored him completely. He figured it was just a secret by now. Someone with his type of personality usually isn't seen snacking on sugary macaroons or chocolates unless on a special occasion. But eating these sorts of foods brought him back to a certain individual from his previous days. A moment of time where he actually felt loved and wanted by someone without paying the price of a black eye or busted lip. A gentle soul, a
sweet one. He couldn't bare think of his face anymore, a name that made his heart flutter and breathing cease entirely. Now wasn't the time, it
never was the time.
He left him.
"Thank you for these, Gongchan." Junho spoke up, straightening his offensive posture to set them carefully on the table beside him. While it wasn't exactly a smile, much like what the other male would have wanted from him, the brunette still nodded his head as respectfully as he could. This had been the first present he received in a fairly long time, and he thoroughly loved it. Reaching over to open the standard, chocolate flavored variation to get his hands on one of the delectable sweets; Junho paused for a moment when the other went on about eating them all in one sitting and retracted his hand back. Baby fat?
He had baby fat? Sinking his rather large teeth into the plumpness of his bottom lip, the male descended even further into the couch cushions to rid his mind of the embarrassment from his previous years. It wasn't his fault he was still growing, he was only twenty-two and a handful of inches above a majority of the group members there. He may have been categorized as one of the younger ones, but he certainly wasn't appearing like it much anymore.
His fuzzy thoughts began to wander elsewhere as Gongchan finished with his rounds and Junho let out another hefty breath of air, needing another drink to bring himself back down to that perfect medium. While he was practically halfway there, having a difficult time focusing in on sensory key points already, the blonde returned to announce their wondrous plan of getting absolutely and utterly shitfaced, with Junho included. Of course, the male had no complaints to that idea whatsoever but was fairly surprised to find Gongchan pulling him closer to the other half of his body. If he had not been buzzed already, Junho was positive he would've let a few insults slip without having to think twice. The male was never fond of physical contact unless it was from someone he was comfortable with, and at that moment, his list was practically empty.
"Easy now." Junho said, escaping from his snug grip and taking his spot back on the lounge as everyone erupted with laughter and delight around him. Just as he was about to fetch his glass for it to be filled for another go, the area around them suddenly simmered down to nervous whispers and shifty pools in seconds flat. If it had not been for the eyes burning holes into his tan skin after a few passing moments, Junho would have figured it went silent for group discussion. Perplexed and a tad bit concerned, he scanned the sea of faces to see what was going on and stopped to notice Mal holding up the mess of a present he had bestowed upon him earlier that night. Dripping disgusting chunks of muddy wrapping paper onto the pristine surface and carpet below, Junho couldn't help but swallow hard and stare right back at the cold, dead eyes now sinking a dagger directly into his entire being.
At this point he didn't care, for he knew he was fucked anyway.
The night could only get far worse from there.
As the venomous words blasted out one after another, bringing his head beneath the surface with each and every crashing wave, Junho kept his eyes right on his superior without flinching even the slightest. His throat grew uncomfortably tight, tongue suddenly arid and jawline clenched firmly as the male was being outwardly humiliated right in front of every family member present that evening. In all reality, Junho didn't give two shits for the alcohol replaced whatever notion he came in there with, but clearly, Mal did. He always did. If it hadn't been for his status and the number of people guarding the son of a bitch, the brunette would have made his disdain known with a bang before it all even started. But now, as a measly gang member sitting there looking like a damn fool and almost anticipating his appropriate punishment, Junho had nothing to do but sit there and take it like the little
bitch he was.
Trash, and nothing more.
Filthy
hon hyeol.
Cocking his head upwards as if readying himself for whatever was to come, Junho pointed his nose away when glancing at his gift being tossed into the trash and the men surrounding him on that plush sofa. A presumptuous smile you could call it, tugged at the corner of his lips right before that one fist met smack dab in the center of his cute little face, crushing his nose inward briefly as a distinctive
pop rang out indicating a now, fresh, broken nose. Ribbons of brilliant carmine flowed straight from his nostrils and into the crevices of his lengthy, bunny teeth as he continued to grin like the asshole he was. Not just because of the show that was being put on for the rest of his peers, but the way the pain made his toes curl and nerves feel substantially alive. The adrenaline had long started pumping, and his shame was entirely out the window at that point. He deserved this in every possible way, but for some reason, it still felt damn
good.
It wasn't long until he was forced to stand and each of his appendages were held tightly behind him, giving the rest of his body full access to be struck as they so desired. One after another, the fists came flying and met with various points on his already bruised body, adding more to the blossoming colors of black and blue on his young, tanned canvas. That smile of his faltered just a bit as he threw himself forward against the stifling force, feeling the need to at least fight back to prevent his image from looking the least bit tarnished to those acquainted with him. But nonetheless, each time he struggled the more dangerous things had become. Kidneys knocked about, stomach smashed in, lungs gasping for orderly wheezes before one final backhand and he was lifted from the ground. Wild-eyed and frenzied for that one chance at drawing blood, it hadn't been long at all until he was dropped bottom-first into the trash can to seize all dire movements he was contemplating of making. Much like a maddened animal forced into a small, confined cage, Junho's knees were suddenly restricted against his heaving chest with ass pressed awkwardly into the moist package underneath him. He could no longer wriggle about and struggled to soothe his choppy wheezes as he glared at his superior viewing his wretched image from above.
Suspended from the family and not to be seen for the rest of the remaining holiday Mal had ultimately ordered;
oh what a tragedy indeed. Not like anyone gave a shit about his attendance because he certainly didn't, now designated black sheep of this Kim family. It was the same thing all over again from his puppy dog days, rehashed and sent out in different terms to make him feel thoroughly disgusted with his actions in that moment of time.
"Fuck you." He wanted to say, bouncing the creamy syllables off the tip of his tongue and feeling the poison soak into the endings of his taste buds.
"I hope you do remember this." But in reality, nothing could be said at all and Junho gave a huff when the rain of red gelatin dirtied his suit jacket more than what his own blood did. The desperate desire to crinkle his nose and spit in the direction of this man had flared up inside him in an alcohol-induced rage, though he knew to keep it suppressed. Don't dig yourself an even deeper hole than what you originally had or you'll end up dead in the streets with nothing to remember you by.
A flick of the wrist and the plastic cup went flying, hitting him square in the face and tumbling down to join itself with the rest of the waste before the men lifted him up to finish the job. Each ticking second Junho could feel himself falling further and further into that metallic can, making it just as inconvenient to situate himself and his long, cane-like arms comfortably without forking his lungs in entirely. If one sudden shift made the weight uneven, a punch to the face would follow, and he would slide right back in without much contest, sputtering blood all over his chin and swearing profusely under his drunken breath at how ridiculous all of this really was. Camera flashes and annoying laughter seemed to surround him as he was dragged out, along with more trash of soiled napkins and food piling onto his lap to make the
"joke" much more humorous than what it intended to be. All fun and games of ridiculing the man-child sitting ass-down in a compiled heap of filth, Junho could only keep his eyes pasted to the flickering club lights to assure himself this nonsense would all be over soon.
The temperature gradually dropped, and the club scene evolved into a clouded, night sky, giving him an indication that they were outside to officially finalize this abominable punishment. The shift of the can abruptly swayed back, four times, until he was tossed into the middle of the snow-dusted street and freed from that obscene enclosure once and for all. Piles of debris trickled to the ground all around him while he rolled onto his hands after the initial impact, coughing up mouthfuls of blood onto the snow as he was finally able to breathe properly and unhurriedly.
"Fuck.." Junho cursed, glancing up to see the doors slam shut and leave him with only his thoughts and regrets in the middle of that desolate road. It was done, he was free. No one to insult him, no one to ridicule him and bash his face in countless of times to make him bluer than what he initially was. But boy, did he ache. Every part of his body was screaming for dear mercy with whatever movement he attempted to make. A stretching of an arm, a shift of the knees; both causing him to groan and simper as he situated himself onto his bottom to goggle at the red liquid staining the smoothness of his skin. Despite it all, it still was a lovely image. A warm homely sensation that made his nociceptors experience pain just how he used to when he was younger. Pleasurable,
gratifying; an overall reward for being the piece of shit he always had been and still continues to be. He deserved this, he always did. If acting out resulted in this tender state of overwhelming satisfaction, then why not do it more often? He had nothing to lose, people hated him; it was that feeling he was thriving for. Plucking open the buttons of his suit jacket, Junho slowly pulled it off his shoulders and chucked it to the side along with the rest of the waste, revealing a thin, black button-up that was wrinkled to the point of no return. Although intact with tie professionally straight, blood still ran from his nose and lined his neck, soaking into the soft, dark fabric as well as staining the skin underneath.
He was an absolute and utter mess, and he loved every second of it. Why? He felt
vigorous. That smile of his crept onto his features one more time as he wiped the blood away, smearing it with wet snow and dirt almost proud he was still breathing.
"What a night." was all he could comment, concealing his fervent rage with miraculous beams and emphatic laughter, regretting none of the actions he had followed through with at all. Though it wouldn't be much longer until that amusement turned into his usual anger, and eventually sadness, but time could only tell. Junho was a ticking bomb with a timer all jacked up.
The gang member steadied himself carefully and moved his body as if he were to stand, but paused midway when hearing the doors fly open again. Glancing behind himself to see if it were people leaving or entering, he stopped his action completely when seeing who it actually was. Hansol, the Kim family's underboss and his other superior, was the last person he wanted to deal with right now. Scratch that, the last person he wanted to deal with
at all. Mal could do his magic and tarnish his reputation ten times over with a few beatings, but when Hansol did it, it actually hurt. Whatever little relationship of high and low ranks they were holding meant so much more than what he and Mal had. Hansol was kind to him when he did something right for a change, a feeling of praise and approval difficult to come by from just about anyone these days.
Turning his head as fast as he could, Junho tried his absolute best to appear invisible, but being in the middle of the road surrounded by filth and a bent-up garbage can, it was rather challenging indeed. There was a sense of panic fueling his emotions, a frightened feeling of being viewed like this by someone he practically looked up to; a complete shift from the demeanor he was just sporting seconds ago. No longer a spitfire with a mouth that ran away from him, but now a small mutt with a tail snug deep between his legs.
Those steps, bounding one after another in the most vehemently, daunting way made his stomach flop to the tips of his toes. Junho could recognize them just about anywhere, and from that point on, he knew he was as good as dead when it came to the Kim underboss.
"What the fuck was that back there, Juno? Was that some sick fucking joke? Get the fuck up. Now."
"I-I'm sorry, sir.. Yes, sir.."
Junho swallowed hard and did as he was told without giving the thought of objecting, immediately pressing his palms to the asphalt and shoving his cumbersome frame into a standing position as best as he could. He didn't want to look at him, didn't have the courage to do it but still managed to sputter out a few words to justify the actions he went through with. An apology even, something that, in reality, didn't mean jack shit to Hansol when it came down to it.
"Sorry? D-Did you just say, sorry?... No, no.. Sorry won't cut it. Not only are you the reason for a huge scene inside the club, but you have brought disgrace to our family name… All of this shit, and all you can say is sorry? Sorry won't fucking cut it,
you worthless piece of trash."
There were those words again. Disgrace, trash. The very same words Mal had crumpled up and spat in his face not so long ago inside the club, and while at the same time it didn't hurt as much as it did now; hearing it from Hansol was an entirely different story. What was he to say? Nothing would ever amount to the shame he had brought to his superior that night, no
"forgive me" or
"I'm sorry" could mend the disgust he had for him now. Junho lifted his head and gathered up whatever lick of bravery he had to look at him, wanting to curl up into a ball and hide for the rest of his days at the searing pools peering directly into his soul. Right as he opened his mouth to muster up another lousy apology, Hansol raised his hand and struck him on the cheek as hard as he could, catching him completely off guard with the sensation of raw glass slicing into his skin. Although the gang member had experienced far worse in all of his years of living, it still hurt more than anything in the world. Returning his head forward to reply, Junho's eyes were half-lidded with eyebrows knitted together, trying his absolute best to remain calm and collected as blood poured out from the gashes in his flushed cheek. He brought his hand to cover it up and halt the bleeding as best as he could, but small little clots had formed and seeped between his fingers, making his attempts practically useless in the long run.
"Y-You're right.. I am just trash.."
"If you are just trash.. Why the hell are you seeing me eye to eye? Get on your knees and apologize for the dignity of this family."
It took Junho a moment to realize what he was being ordered and bent his knees just a little, attempting to make it as painless as possible but with the state he was currently in, it hadn't mattered much anyway. Deep down inside the void of his entire being, it felt good to be treated this way;
why lie about it? He was punished the same way as a child; there was no sense in running away now. Giving in entirely to the thought of bruising up his knees, he plopped down onto the hard pavement and bowed his head downward, counting the speckles of blood in the snow as he readied himself for another round of being beat senselessly. His mind was jumbled, tongue all tied up and words strung together as he collected another shitty sentence to present to his senior.
"I'm sorry for being such a disgrace, sir.."
"Sorry is all you can say again, huh?.."
There was a pause, and Junho didn't even bother bringing up his gaze to see what was coming next after that awful apology. He deserved this, and if anyone was better at distributing discipline it was Hansol himself;
it hurt most from him. Shutting his eyes, the underboss' foot met with the top of his head like a goddamn freight train, slamming his crown and bringing his head right into the dirt and grime below without warning. Junho forced himself not to flinch like before, but a small groan gurgled from the back of his throat that was thankfully muffled by another blunt blow.
This is what I earned
myself, he thought to himself, gritting his teeth and ordering his mental state to sit through this wave of rough treatment without any complaints,
this is what I always deserved. But slowly, ever so slowly, he started to break. A porcelain mask chipping away to reveal the fragile child deep from within himself.
"If you even want to
remain in this family, I expect you to be at your best behavior during your suspension. Do you understand? If I ever catch or hear sight of you doing something, I will have to come and check up on you myself. What I am doing to you will
definitely be a lot worse, so do not make my job in this family harder than it already is. I already have those other shits to deal with
and now you?.. God,
you're pissing me off.."
There it was again, an influx of agony that threw him completely off. If slamming his head into the road underneath him wasn't enough, then the handful of unforgiving kicks were. Hansol had no boundaries; Junho learned that long time ago, and this was a prime example of his tactics behind it. But what could he do? If Junho wanted anyone to put him in his place,
it had to be him.
The immense pressure was suddenly lifted from the back of his head after a few moments, and his dirtied face rose with globs of tears welling into the corner of his wide, chocolate peepers without even realizing. Streaking his raw, reddened face were splotches of dried dirt and blood, now fashioning glorious cuts from the hand that had struck him as a reminder for the infinite amounts of shame he had brought onto the Kim family name. Inhaling once, twice and finally thrice, an almost sick, guttural sob sifted past his busted lips to the point it even caught himself off guard. Junho was never the type to show weakness to those around him, let alone to his peers or superiors. But Hansol was different. The shame he had felt for embarrassing himself had long faded away once pulling his thin frame out of that filthy garbage can, though now on his knees in front of the Kim underboss who spat vicious insults and made him feel less than nothing, brought the shame back just as hard. Junho respected Hansol more than anyone within the group, almost obsessively even, and now, he had disappointed him. Somber mews seemed to dribble from his bloodied lips one after another, and no matter how hard he tried to contain them, he couldn't stop. A small smile began to yank at the corners as he spoke in broken gasps, but for reasons he wasn't entirely sure.
"All I fucking do is make things difficult for you and I.. I apologize. I don't know what else to say— I'm a fucking disappointment. I deserve whatever you or anyone else does to me.. So please, hit me again. Harder."
Those words seemed to catch the underboss off guard, and Junho just focused on him in silence, waiting for that request he made to be fulfilled oh so desperately like a child on Christmas day. But Hansol didn't bother with it,
not at all. He simply bent forward, searched for something within him and ultimately looked disgusted at his current physical state before rising again. Junho became confused, did he say something wrong? He was getting his head caved in only seconds ago, and now it was over?
"How
dare you try to order me around like that. Do I look lower than you, Juno? Do I?!.."
The tears continued to flow, harder even, and Junho just watched his superior shout at him for offering himself up in a manner such as that. But what else were he to do? He needed it,
wanted it. Why was he being denied something that he essentially earned for being the waste of air he was?
"I can't hit you. And for god damn sure I can't give you what you want. It will make me look weak. Plus, we're in public. Not only will hitting you when you asked will destroy my image, it could end up damaging the family's reputation even more."
Denied again without much else to lose, Junho bowed his head like before and wept to himself as if defeated once and for all. Even when asking to be battered or knocked about willingly to teach him properly, he still was ruining everything for the family name, and even Hansol himself. Could he do anything right? Why was he such a fuck up even in that area? His shoulders began to shake as his thin frame racked with disgusting sobs, gripping the fabric bunching at his knees as leverage for how disgraceful he really was. Shutting his eyes, it grew silent for what it felt like hours before the underboss crouched down in front of him, causing him to legitimately flinch for once in a very long time. Opening his eyes, he became confused at this sudden sign of remorse that came out of nowhere.
"Ya.. Uljima... (Don't cry.) Jesus fucking christ, I've changed my mood so much tonight.. I hope to god no one is seeing me do this.."
The pad of the other man's thumb grazed away whatever tears and grime that had slicked his face in just a few, gentle strokes, sending a peculiar wave of calmness through Junho's shivering frame. It was a sudden shift in the once-thick atmosphere that somewhat confused the brunette, causing him to wonder to himself what come of it and
why. He was more than ready to take whatever beating his superior was going to present to him, but in the end, he managed to skate on by without another bruise or cut to remind himself of this rather eventful night. It was just then Junho turned his head away in one, torpid movement, immediately averting his eyes downward and inhaling through the slits of his teeth at Hansol's hushed words. The male knew he didn't earn this sort of treatment, not after what he had pulled not
ever.
"Don't.. I-I'm fine, I really am.. I deserve the pain anyway."
There was another silence, though colder this time and Junho could feel that immediate shift return once more. The underboss retracted his hand away like he was something revolting and returned to standing above him like everyone else in the world. Sniffling, Junho wiped his eyes with the back of sleeve in an attempt to make himself not appear as weak as before.
"..You're right. You really didn't deserve any of my kindness. You will never receive my kindness from this point forward, am I making that clear? Don't ever show your face around the family until I permit you to. Understand?"
Never? Junho couldn't bring himself to look at Hansol one final time. That change made him feel ten times more worthless than what he ended up being, and the fact he would never receive kindness for a very long time brought those tears back again. He didn't exactly understand the reasoning behind it, crying over kindness, but Junho felt so disgusted with himself that he honestly wanted to
die. It went from smirks to crying in a half hour time span, and Hansol was the eventual cause of it. Why was he so weak? Why did he let this man walk all over him without complaining once?
Breathing out a long, broken sigh, he finally answered to finish this moment between them and let the underboss get on with his night. Junho was merely wasting precious time for him with words not worth his time.
"I.. I understand, sir."
Those steps had begun to fade away and Junho sat there without moving an inch, watching his blood and tears dribble onto the snow under him as the cold crept up around his shoulder blades. Hearing the car engine roar to life, Junho refused to move, simply shutting his eyes and listening to the sound of his superior's car drive off into the night.
He didn't know what to do at that point. Call for a ride? Stay there and freeze to death? As good as the latter had sounded, he figured it was time to do something before it got any later than what it already was. Wobbling to his feet, Junho limped onto the sidewalk and began digging for his phone, hoping his men could pick him up and at least bandage him up before he passed out entirely.
Boy, the questions they would have for him,
it really had been a long night.
Affiliation 
