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Life in the city was all Kyungsoo had ever known. He had grown near the hustle and bustle of the polluted streets, residing in an insect-infested apartment with his parents, in a compound with faulty drainage system. Their neighbors were of decent background, if not all then some hid in the facade of a picture perfect family or a respectable bachelor. It's a good life, he was not in the gutters, but there had to be more than this. It wasn't a stretch to declare this life a disease he so desperately wanted to leave behind.
A decision had started brewing in his mind during his nightly strolls around the city, still awake but barely. The more he pondered on it, the more it enticed him. It wasn't like his parents were frequently home anyway, they'd do much better without a thorn in their side who can't even get a passing grade in half his classes to save a life, can't stay long enough in jobs, can't provide anything but more debt and an extra mouth to feed. He had no friends and his dog had just died of something that could have been easily cured had he the money for the overpriced as fuck veterinary clinic and their medicine.
His life was utter shit but he had no energy to off himself. Running away was just as good as any other option in his fucked up life, and since it's the only one that lets him have a choice even for a while, that ultimately made it the best plausible outcome.
But he had no energy to plan his escape from this limbo and as such, he reckoned he'd be stuck here forever, cultivating a dream in utter misery and hoping he'd still be alive when it would reach the perfect time to exact it.
He dared hope for something within the God awful neon hellscape, some sort of silver lining, and so suddenly, there it was.
Someone came like the warm sunlight cast from between the tall old buildings after a sleepless night spent aimlessly walking.
Hours-long bleary vision, a second-long happenstance, and gravity pulling him down into a strong set of arms like that of a romantic comedy—but it was not a romantic comedy. It was real life thus there was no slow motion or soft sunlight draping over their figures tenderly, no romantic piano coming in and the world going out of focus but them.
The last things he saw were the dawning sky and someone's face up close.
The next thing he knew, the 11am sun shone starkly on his eyelids, rough thin sheets hugging him uncomfortably. Just as the sun greeted him from the curtain-less and dirty windows, so did Chanyeol.
Kyungsoo was 21 when he became a university dropout and a young runaway, leeching off of a 22-year-old boy with a right arm full of tattoos and a blinding smile. He'd learn Chanyeol lived a life worse than he but it would astound him and eventually admire Chanyeol that despite everything, he never lost his smile.
One day, Kyungsoo would finally tell Chanyeol about himself. Eventually, Chanyeol would learn how much Kyungsoo hated his life—his home, his family, how he could never achieve anything and be the good son that would provide for the family. Chanyeol would attest his past residential area had just been poisoned, blighted by a centuries old curse that manifested in various ways such as the persistently overflowing sewers, effectively muddling his mind and robbing him of any happiness. He had such a gall to say that as if he hadn't been residing near some persistently overflowing sewers too and with the side of the road behind them acting as an unofficial garbage dump, but it had made Kyungsoo laugh. They lived closely to each other but led such different lives.
Where Kyungsoo had grown near it, Chanyeol had grown within the hustle and bustle of the polluted streets. He was made from smoke and artificial lights yet it was dizzying how full of life he was. With all his courage, wit, tattoos, and tricks up his sleeve, Kyungsoo would soon be entranced by Chanyeol's being.
For now though, his head pounded louder at this stranger's voice.
"Oh, you're awake! Are you well? I hope you're feeling better, that was a shocking fall. Good thing I was there, huh? Hah! Why don't you drink this first? Are you hungry? I have bread and eggs. The bathroom is this door. Do you need to go? You can stay until you're well enough. You're really pale," he said without much of a pause as he gestured around with his hands.
If it weren't for his numb legs and the pressure inside his skull, he would have openly gawked at the man. His deep voice was a mismatch to his youthful face that was a mismatch to his tall build that was a mismatch to the worry in his eyes that was a mismatch to the presence of tattoos, but perhaps Kyungsoo was just too judgmental and he'd soon learn that all of Chanyeol made sense, a mess of juxtapositions, and it's amazing how things that made sense held an unreal beauty.
Kyungsoo only grunted and pressed his face on the floral-scented pillow beneath him, likely newly washed, scrunching his eyes in pain.
He did nothing but rest for the day and two more, claiming weakness in his bones and dizziness that felt like gravity was not working for his head, which were true but if he had some shame and a desire to go back to a cold house he'd have left already the evening of the day he passed out.
On a Tuesday morning, he lingered in uncertainty. Kyungsoo stood in what little space there was in this kind stranger's cramped apartment—was it even an apartment when it was just a single room with thin wooden walls and floorboards—and fidgeted under Chanyeol's gaze.
From the harsh smell of nicotine, the poverty reeking in the air, the glint of a knife from under his shirt, Kyungsoo should have left earlier. Chanyeol had red lights blaring and didn't bother much to hide them. Though his smile was radiant, they did say that the devil was once the most beautiful angel.
And yet, those were insignificant when Chanyeol had offered his single bed, his time, and his energy in assisting Kyungsoo recuperate; Chanyeol had talked to his neighbors, just as kind to them—if not littered with unnecessary curse words and shockingly crude jokes—but much lighter in their familiarity; and like the trinkets around, practical junk that took up space, his tattoos were not permanent on his skin just for the heck of it but had their stories. All—at least that's what Kyungsoo presumed from the few Chanyeol had shared as he droned on when trying to fix an old radio, too loud and too cluttered as he did his thing beside the bed—were not plastered without careful thought.
With a deep breath, Kyungsoo told Chanyeol that he had nowhere to go and wished to stay with him—“uh, just for now…”—fearing rejection, fearing coming back to the drab life he was so set on discarding, fearing getting a taste of this new world where everything was much shittier but a neighbor got your back when you're in trouble no matter if it's from illicit acts like Kang Hyuk from above hiding solvents in Chaewon's home after running away from syndicates or just plain Jongin from the other street finding solace in Chanyeol's kitchen. It was dirty, harrowing, with death and violence regretfully familiar around this part of town, but there was authenticity to their life. It wasn't trying their damnest to be clean, fabricating their images to fit society's mold. Inside, he knew these people wished for his life—the safety, the stability, except the safety and the stability were something that could be easily snatched from him from a moment's notice, something his mother and his father knew so well and now they're fixated on getting back to their upper middle class lives from before Kyungsoo had turned two. He'd willingly fall right down in the pits rather than plaster a smile and fight tooth and claw pretending he's not drowning above.
"Oh." Chanyeol blinked at him, and a few more blinks later, he nodded and smiled. "I guess we'll have to borrow a real mattress from someone. I think Taeri has a spare."
It felt too much, guilt at once again being a burden. His shoulders did not lose their tension and behind his back, he continued to pick at the skin on his left fingertips. Maybe if he truly was allowed to stay, he'd start taking more jobs. This time, he wouldn't be dragged down by sleepless nights slaving away to study something he never had passion over. "Aren't you worried? That I could steal or harm you?"
He only laughed, his deep voice resounded in their closed space, likely slipping through the cracks in the walls and floor and reaching beyond. All sorts of sounds would come and go in this place. "I can handle myself. Come, you should meet Taeri too. And her cats! I hope you’re not allergic or something. I am and it sucks, it's hard to get meds for it, did 'ya know?"
Kyungsoo released a sigh of relief and his shoulders let go off some tension when he mirrored the smile Chanyeol had.