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yearningandpatheticaboutit · 2 years

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SPEAK FOR YOURSELF

CHAPTER 4: CAN YOU HANDLE IT?

word count: 6458

warnings: death mention, abuse mention, slight violence

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San

I'm surprised to find my bed empty when the next morning rolls around. It's made, the entire kitchen is clean, and there's a freshly made egg on the counter with two pieces of sausage. On it there's a note. I scowl when I realize she tore off a piece of paper from one of my Chemistry worksheets to write it.

Just a little thank you for giving in and letting me join. Don't go back on your word. — Y.

She nearly cleans my whole apartment and bakes me breakfast as a thank you for letting her into drug dealing? As if this is going to make me forget who I'm being blackmailed by.

I sigh begrudgingly and take the plate. I check the time on my phone and it's seven am. She must have gotten up early to do all this if she managed to leave without even making a peep.

My brain wracks as I sit down by my work desk and start eating the egg. It tastes good, not burnt and I couldn't have made it better myself. I hate myself for enjoying it. It makes me feel defeated, like I didn't fight hard enough.

Don't get soft, San. She's a hazard. Remember you're better off alone.

The voice in my head is right. As soon as I get enough money, I'll give her a large portion just so she'd disappear. I don't need another insane woman blackmailing me. I already have enough on my plate.

My phone rings and I see Mrs Myers name flashing on my screen. I slam my head against the counter. My chemistry teacher. I know exactly why she's calling.

I missed school. And a test.

When my ringtone dies down I see two messages pop up.

Mrs Myers: Good morning, Mr Choi. Is everything alright?

Mrs Myers: You missed your test. Please remember that a medical certificate is required to qualify for the make-up test. Come to my office as soon as possible to discuss your status and whether or not you will be taking the test. Have a good day.

Medical certificate? All I have is bruises on my face and evidence of what the 105ths did to me for my inability to deliver. I'm not looking forward to dealing with all of this when I get to school.

My phone lights up again. I groan louder.

Y: Did you get your breakfast?

I ignore the message and suddenly feel listless. I studied forever for that chemistry test and didn't even get the chance to write it. I have pills that need disposing of and I'm being blackmailed by some rich girl so she can run away to Europe. My life is just great.

I get ready for school wearing my mood on my face, because I can't be bothered to look like a model student today. I have to beg Mrs Myers so I can retake my test and then get around to all my classes to apologize and catch up.

Day in the life of being the "perfect" student.

When I arrive at school, no one is there yet. I always come early to get my "business" out of the way and to study in the library. I head through my familiar route across the parking lot when I see her.

Yaera is smoking against the wall when she spots me, her brown eyes brightening with a mischevious glint as she smiles. I scowl as she immediately makes her way towards me, my mood plummeting by the second.

It's not that I hate her. I don't know her. I don't want to know her. Ever. I can tell she's a problem and that we're worlds apart and I'd rather stay safely away than collide. I know if we do, it will be disastrous. It already is.

I walk faster so she can't catch up, but she persists. "San!" She calls. "Wait up!"

I don't wait. Eventually I feel a pull on my bag and whirl around with frustration. I have so much on my plate and her happiness and casual demeanor just pisses me off.

"What do you want?" I snap at her. Her face falls for a second but quickly recovers as she plasters a shit-eating smirk on her face.

"Hey come on... why so grumpy? Were the eggs not good enough?" She attempts to joke. I don't laugh at all.

I can tell she's not serious about this. Sure she gave me 4k, but that could just be sob-story to get me to feel something for her. I let out a joyless laugh as I look down at her. "What the fuck do you think this is?" I ask her lowly.

Her dark brown eyes widen, her strong cheekbones poking out as she does. "What do you mean?" She asks innocently. She doesn't even get it and that pisses me off further.

"Don't talk to me at school," I tell her coldly. "And stop trying to play house. Because you and me? We're not friends. And we never will be, so quit your bullshit."

Her plump, dark pink lips frown as her eyes quickly lose the jump they had when they saw me. Good. "So what? You'd rather have us be hostile? How do you expect me to reach you?"

"Don't reach out to me. I'll reach out to you when I actually need you. And yes I'd rather you not fucking pretend to be happy around me because frankly, it pisses me off."

She scoffs and forces a laugh, taking a long drag of her cigarette. She tosses it to the floor and kills it with a hard stomp before glaring up at me. I hate the smell, it gives me awful flashbacks.

"You know what? I'm not gonna be as miserable as you. If you woke up in a shit mood, whatever, don't fucking take it out on the entire world, Choi San. I'll talk to you when you don't have your head up your ass," she says sharply before turning on her heel and stomping off.

I grind down on my teeth and harshly rub my face as I watch her dark red head disappear around the school building. Maybe you shouldn't have been so harsh.

Shut up, brain. Just shut it. You already said what you said. Besides, she's the girl who happens to be blackmailing me. I think I'm allowed to be pissed for as long as I want.

I breathe heavily in the middle of the parking lot, just trying to stay calm. It's going to be a long day... I shouldn't make things worse.

"Hey, dimples!" Someone yells. I see Yeosang coming from the other side of the parking lot, a wide grin on his face. Great, another idiot.

The short, ash blonde-headed guy takes my hand eagerly. "Where you been, man? I heard you weren't in school yesterday," his eyes widen when he comes closer to my face. "Damn you look like shit. Who did that?"

I sigh heavily. "There anything you need, Yeosang?"

He's nearly jumping in his skin, a loud laugh bubbling out of him. "That's why I like you, my dear Lazarus. Always straight to business. I happen to want some of your business now that you mention it."

I clean my teeth in annoyance. "I already told you I don't sell at school. You have my number and I told you where to find me if you wanna meet up."

Your greed is also the whole reason I got caught, you fucking loser.

"Come on!" He whines. "Please... I didn't expect them to be that good. Rosie Posies, right? Can't you just give me one more bag?"

"No," I firmly say. The rich kids at this school never take kindly to that word, but Yeosang will have to endure. "I don't even have anything on me. What am I supposed to do?"

Yeosang rubs his face with a groan, then his face lightens up as if he discovered something awesome. "It's my birthday next week, you know that right?"

"Why would I know when your birthday is?"

"Damn, you're such a rude asshole, Lazarus. I'm trying to invite you to my birthday party. If you wanna be a good friend and get me a real good present, bring a whole bag of Rosies."

Yaera's words ring in my head. She mentioned a party of his. How convenient.

"You know that's gonna be a shit ton of money, right?" I drawl. "Rosies aren't cheap."

Yeosang nods eagerly. "Of course I'd never underpay you. I'm not Jeff Bezos, Lazarus. Just make sure you bring me what I want and we'll both be happy."

"Then it's a deal."

Yeosang nearly jumps from excitement, his short and buff frame like an energized chihuahua. I think he's about to run off, but he slaps his hand on my shoulder like we're best friends.

"You know what, you're cool, Lazarus Choi. I'll give you a piece of advice, ditch the concubine, why don't you?" He says suddenly.

I knit my eyebrows together in confusion. "What?"

"I saw you talking to Marino," he sighs and clicks his tongue. "I get it man, she has that bad girl vibe. But you're really not her type. If you really want chicks, I can get you into good books at my party. You're kinda handsome when you don't look like you ate a lemon."

"What do you mean I'm not her type?" Not that I'm worried about that, it's just a very specific warning.

Yeosang chuckles mockingly. "Oh you don't know? Man, where have you been the past few years? Don't you know she prefers older guys?"

A strange feeling washes over me at Yeosang's mocking tone. I don't know what it is but I dismiss it immediately. My curiosity gets the better of me. I want to know more about Yaera without her lying.

"Explain what you mean," I demand. Yeosang makes an immature 'ooo' sound.

"Holy shit, are you two dating? Damn so you really don't know. A year ago this picture of her went viral coming out of a motel with some older guy. His face was hidden though, but hers wasn't. Word spread around like hellfire. It was fucking hilarious. Then all the pictures just got deleted off the internet one day. Must be her PR team."

I don't laugh along with him, maybe because I'm so surprised. I didn't expect that at all. I know so little about her and yet she knows enough about me to damn me. That doesn't sit well with my soul.

I eye Yeosang determinedly. "Do you still have the picture?"

***

Yeosang promises to email it to me before the school day ends as he kept it in an encrypted file on his hard drive. I feel somewhat uneasy about getting the picture, but my head convinces me that I need dirt on her the way she has dirt on me. If the picture was removed from all sites, that meant it had power to damage. I needed insurance.

I'm on my way to Mrs Myers class by third period and already prepared to lie my ass off. I'm going to blame my dad, like I always do because it's easy to blame a ghost, someone who's never around to defend themselves.

Also an easy way to induce pity because Mrs Myers also happens to be the Guidance Counselor.

I knock on her door and peer through the glass, seeing her tapping away at her computer. Her brown eyes light up when she sees me, ushering me in with her hand.

"Goodmorning, Mrs Myers," I say and almost bow. "Uh...you wanted to see me."

"Yes, of course, San. Sit down," she gestures to the chair infront of her desk. I take my bag off and hold it infront of my chest as I awkwardly sink into my seat.

"You had me worried sick," she tells me. "You never miss school. I thought maybe you had gotten kidnapped."

I force a laugh. It's always weird to have adults worry when you're around none all the time. No good adults anyway.

Mrs Myers is a kind lady who kind of always gets taken advantage of. Being a teacher at a private school is no joke, I've seen rich assholes insult her straight to her face and even try to get her fired, but she's like a rock at this school. Unmoving and unweathered, going nowhere unless it's her own choice.

"N-No...I had to deal with my father, Mrs Myers. He came around again," I say and cast my gaze down. It never feels good to lie.

I can feel her stare narrowing in on the marks on my face. "Oh, I'm so sorry, San. Did he do that to you? We should report him to the police, maybe they can find him."

"He'll just disappear like he always does," I say lowly. Mrs Myers is well aware of my father and his habits. She had to deal with them up until he completely fell off the radar. "That's why I couldn't come to school. I know that's not a valid reason..."

"What do you mean it's not a valid reason?" She asks pointedly, her curls bouncing as she spoke. "You got hurt and it looks like you got medical attention. That sounds valid enough for me."

My heart warms as she smiles at me. I didn't even have to beg. "Thank you so much, ma'am. For everything."

"No problem, kid. But tell me," she leans forward like I've seen the mobsters do in the movies. "I heard a rumor that you're going out with Yaera Marino. Is that true?"

My happiness is quick to dilute. What the fuck. My mouth plops open and I start stuttering pathetically.

"Where...where did..."

"The teachers lounge is full of gossip. And I've heard lots of things about the two of you. So is it true?"

I clamp my mouth shut, not even knowing what to say. I don't want to sound like a loser and admit I've never had a girlfriend before. But something

about Yaera being known as my girlfriend infuriates me.

Mrs Myers sighs at me wistfully. "Oh, San. You stay out of school for one day and all of a sudden you're dating. Lots of things have changed in the past day, right? Just be careful, son."

Why am I getting so much warnings? "Be careful of what, ma'am?" I try to not let the edge creep into my voice.

"The Marino girl," she answers. "I'm sure you already know her record. It's truly sad all she has gone through. As much as I'm glad you're finally making friends, please just be cautious of the company you keep, San. Try to be a good influence on Yaera. She needs it."

I stare blankly, still not following. This is the second time I've been asked to be a good influence on her. If that isn't ironic I don't know what is.

"All she has gone through?" I dumbly question. Mrs Myers looks at me like I've grown three heads.

"Oh no, Choi San. Surely you cannot be this sheltered. You have gone to school here for four years! If you are dating this girl I hope you don't ask questions like this. You should know by now what happened to her sister."

Mrs Myers stops paying attention to my confusion and is now staring sadly at her hands. "It's a tragedy really. There is nothing quite painful like the loss of a sibling. Can you imagine a twin? Your other half that you can never get back again. Yaera used to be so bright and... then her sister went missing and... it's like her spark went out. It's saddening what grief can do to you."

A strange feeling bubbles in my stomach as Mrs Myers keeps talking. So Yaera has a twin...had. And she died.

"Does Mrs Myers know Yaera well?" I ask curiously.

Mrs Myers nods with a tender smile. "Both her and her sister, Yasmine. Those two couldn't have been more different but they fit together like the moon and the stars. Yaera used to be in AP Chemistry like you, but dropped it after her sister died."

I'm uncomfortable, I don't know why. I thought she was just some troubled rich girl looking for a thrill and dramaticized her life more than necessary. But hearing all this made her seem more... human.

I don't even think we're allowed to talk about this. I clear my throat awkwardly. "I'll make sure to talk to her then, ma'am," I say with a miniscule smile.

Mrs Myers counters with a soft smile as well. "Yes, please look out for her. She may seem uncaring but Yaera needs someone. Everyone does. Including you, San. I am glad you two found each other, I hope it will bring out the best in you both. "

Now I don't know about that. Mrs Myers eventually drifts off from the topic of Yaera and I'm rescheduled to write my test next Monday. That gives me ample time to study and hopefully I won't be bothered by any assignments over the weekend.

Just as I leave her office, I receive an attachment from an unfamiliar email. I click inside, my face dropping as I see the picture. There's a comment at the bottom, which I gather is from Yeosang. I scowl distastefully, feeling like I just ate an onion.

You really know how to pick em, Lazarus. But hey, at least she has a good set of tits.

I jog toward the stairwell and open the picture only when I'm positively alone. It's dark and mysterious, taken at night from a peculiar view. It looks like it was taken from a bush or a car parked out of view. Yaera is under the arms of some guy, smiling up at him. I almost don't recognize her.

Her hair is black in the photo, and she's only wearing a skirt and what looks like a black bikini top. The guy in the photo is taller than her, his back turned to the camera. I can tell by his build that he's older. Her eyes are pleading as if she's playfully begging, a mischevious smile on her face.

I swallow hard and close my phone. I don't even know what to make of that.

I've learnt so many things today. And yet the more I get told the less it makes sense to me. I open my phone again, going off to my browser. My last page is still on Yaera's family, but only the achievements of her parents.

I type in her sister's name and add 'death' at the end. My stomach pools with even more guilt when I start reading the first few results.

Yasmine Marino (16), daughter of the business moguls of the fashion industry, Monica Marino and Ruan Marino found at the bottom of canyon a year after she was reported missing. Police suspect foul play and have begun investigations.

I know she's Yaera's twin, but it baffles me how similar they look. Yasmine's eyes are softer, more doe-like. Their cheekbones are the same, clearly from their mother. The picture of her brings me back memories of randomly seeing her picture up in grade 10 and never thinking anything of it.

I admit, even when I looked up her parents business, I didn't dig deep. I figured a family with that much money couldn't possibly have any depth. They seemed like your typical elite family with privilege like anyone else at this school.

I read further. It says she was strangled but the fall to the bottom of the canyon killed her. She went missing after leaving a party early by herself two years ago, leaving her family and friends devastated.

I lock my phone irritably, angry at myself. I am such an asshole. I should talk to her. I don't know why I'm suddenly going soft, she's still blackmailing me but somehow I feel bad.

I text her impulsively, telling myself not to think about it.

Me: Hey

Me: Yaera???

My messages instantly go through and are opened within a minute. But no response. She's ignoring me.

Me: Do you want to walk home with me from school?

Y: No.

I'm a little embarrassed, because I know she's still mad about this morning. But I don't bring myself to apologize.

Me: It's important.

Y: Fuck off

I bite on my lip and sigh, shoving my phone back into my pocket. I'd just have to go get her myself then.

***

Yaera

I'm on my last cigarette and irritated to my core. I skipped my last period because I hate biology and now I'm seated on the bleachers, watching the lean soccer players run across the sports field with their shirts off.

My phone keeps buzzing. I don't know if it's my mother, father or even San. I don't care really, that prick ruined my entire day.

Why do you even like him?

It's annoying how full of shit he is. I gave him four thousand dollars to show him how serious I am and yet he still thinks I'm some rich bimbo. Just riding along for some kind of sick adrenaline rush. Mommy and daddy gives no attention at home so she's trying to hang out with drug dealers for validation.

I want to punch him in the face. His pretty, annoying face.

I take a long drag of my cigarette and crush it underneath my shoes before I lean back and soak up the sun. I stay relaxed until I hear footsteps approach, making me sit up to see who it is.

I groan at the sight of him. "Oh god."

Jongho's eyes shine with a glint of mischief, like he's ready to open his mouth and ruin my day. He's shirtless too for some reason, coated in sweat with his soccer shorts hanging low on his hips. I forgot this asshole played sports.

"You know, one would think you'd take care of your visuals since it's the only thing you have," he mocks me. "Cigarettes make you ugly."

"I'm guessing you must have smoked a lot then," I scoff. Jongho snorts.

"You trying to call me ugly?" He wryly says, picking up his shirt but not putting it on.

"I'm not trying, I am calling you ugly. You're the most basic man I've ever met," I say, rolling my eyes. Jongho bursts into forced laughter.

Choi Jongho is handsome, but insufferable. Therefore I will not acknowledge the former.

"You know what? Just for that I'm giving you another detention slip for skipping class and not dying your hair back," he hisses at me, starting to rummage through his bag.

I jump up from the bleachers and slowly descend a step to his level, where Jongho squares his shoulders, as if to intimidate me. He's taller, but I could definitely sweep his feet out and make him eat concrete.

We stare into each other's eyes balefully, with him wearing a shit-eating grin on his face. "You really think that stupid prefect badge makes you a cop, huh?" I sneer at him. "You're still a fucking nobody."

"Rather that than a washed up borderline dropout who only lives in the shadow of her sister's ghost," he snaps back, and without warning I drive my elbow across his face. Jongho stumbles back and holds his nose, an enraged stare consuming him before he lunges at me.

He shoves at my chest and I fall down beside the bleachers on my butt. I drive my heel into his shin and he cries out like a little bitch. I want to make another move, but I'm picked up from behind under my arms.

"What are you doing?" A deep voice sends butterflies fluttering in my stomach. San.

Don't let this asshole hypnotize you again, Yae. Remember how much of a dick he was.

I get up and shove myself off of him, glaring fiercely. San stares at me, different to his constant irritated scowl that he usually used on me. Huh. The stick must be out of his ass now.

"Oh wow, two outcasts. How romantic," Jongho laughs mockingly. A tear of blood rolls down his nose and stains his lip. San looks between us with a confused face as Jongho glares straight at me. "You're gonna pay for this, Marino."

"The bell rang," San says to him, cool and taking no shit. "You should get going."

Jongho scoffs as I let out a chuckle. "Looks like you can't give me detention anymore, asshole."

"Yeah right," he snaps. "You're fucked for Monday, bitch."

He grabs his bag and storms off in the other direction, a small crowd of his fellow players watching the scene nosily a few feet away. I turn away from them and head in the other direction, completely ignoring San.

Yeah, I can be an asshole too.

"Yaera!" He calls after me. I continue walking just like he did this morning. "Wait!"

San suddenly grabs my arm, pulling me into him, our chests touch and a warm feeling spreads across my body. I hate this, I hate that I'm so attracted to him.

I look up into his face, his pink lips catching my eye in the least subtle way. I try to keep my gaze on his eyes, but his deep, penetrative stare only makes me feel weaker. I'm begging myself to stay angry.

"Can you just... stop for a second," he asks me softly. His voice is deep and sweet, the slightly begging edge nearly sending me off the deep end.

"What is it?" I say, squeaking like an idiot.

San licks his lips and I pretend to not be affected. His jet black hair is wavy and disheveled, like he hadn't bothered to brush it after a shower.

"Yeosang talked to me this morning," he tells me. I sober up from my lust and move away from him slightly, but his grip is firm on my arm. "He invited me to his birthday party and told me to bring... the stuff."

"Oh. Are you going?" I ask. San nods.

"You need to come with me. You know those people more than me."

"So now you admit you need me," I scoff and smirk. San clenches his jaw for a second and quickly releases, thinking I don't notice.

"Fine, I will," I say when he stays silent. "But you're gonna need good clothes."

"I'll take care of it. Do you wanna come home with me? There's something I have to show you," he tells me. My stomach and chest is a mess of both nerves and feelings that are way too out of control.

I need to crush them. "What happened to not playing house?" I throw his words back at him.

San rolls his eyes. "Don't worry I'm not willingly hanging out with you. You put in the investment and now you're gonna reap from it. You wanted in, right? I got a text from my boss. I have a job tonight."

Excitement lights up my face. I try to not seem too giddy. "What type of job?"

"I'll let you know when we get to my apartment," he looks around suspiciously as if someone is listening in.

We keep walking down the driveway of the school. "I won't be able to go with you straight from school. My parents pick me up," I tell him.

"What time will you be able to come by then?"

"I'll text you."

San's lips quirk up at the mention of text, and it's not quite a smile, but he's definitely amused about something.

"Thank you for answering my messages," he says with obvious sarcasm. I smile tightly as I grip onto his arm. He's slightly surprised at the contact but doesn't shrug me off. Students look at us weirdly and I know it's because we look like an actual couple now.

"Did you really expect an answer after being an asshole?" I chuckle wryly. "You don't know me then."

"But I will," he answers, looking down at me in a way that makes me want to grab his face. For a moment I relish in our eye contact, but it quickly ends when I hear a familiar hooter.

I quickly unlock from San and move away from him, seeing the black Bentley parked outside the gates. San is confused and jogs after me, and she already has her sights on him so I can't shoo him away.

"Where are you—?" He starts but I toss him a hard look.

"I'll text you later," I say and turn away from him completely, running up to my mother's car. I wave bye quickly and slide in the back. San stands in the driveway for a few seconds and stares at us, before nodding an awkward smile and forcing a wave.

My parents, of course, don't return the wave. They wait till he disappears off the road before turning back to me.

"And who's that?" My mother asks with an edge to her voice.

"Good afternoon, mamma," I say sarcastically. "Nice to see you as well."

"Don't start with the attitude, Yaera," my father warns. "Answer your mother."

"It's just some guy from my history class," I groan and slump back into my seat. "Hes just a friend, don't worry about it."

"How old is he?" My mother interrogates. I sigh.

"My age. They wouldn't let older people into Mountain Creek, ma."

"Were those bruises on his face?" My father asks, squinting. "He looks like trouble."

"He isn't," I quickly defend. Well, he is but they don't need to know that.

"Whatever you say, Yaera," my mother blandly responds. "Just keep it in your pants."

I want to let out a remark I know will get me killed, but I stay quiet before I'm grounded for life.

***

Listening to Lana Del Rey while picking out clothes is dangerous. It makes you want to pick out sexy things without even realizing it. Halfway through my packing do I figure out that half of what I intend to wear is inappropriate and San would probably kill me for it anyway.

I'm giddy just thinking about him. A little annoyed, but more intrigued than anything. I wonder what made him change his tone with me. Maybe he's finally aware of how hot I am or he's playing me. Either way, I am going to enjoy the attention while it lasts.

I've just about finished packing and on my way down when I get his text. My face involuntarily brightens at his name.

Sannie ~ : Don't forget to bring a hoodie and dark pants.

Me: Anything else you want me to pick up? Food?

Sannie~ : Just bring yourself.

I scowl and smile at the same time looking at his name. I heard one of the gangsters call him that. Sannie. I decided it was cute and that I'd keep it, though I'm sure he'd wring my neck for it. Nevermind that, I know damn well this man has nothing good in his fridge.

And I know of leftovers that are currently in mine since that dinner with Mr Fal-clowny. I tug my bag over my arm and quickly run down the stairs, hoping to miss my parents. But to my dismay when I get into the kitchen, my mother is at the counter eating ice-cream at her laptop.

Her brown eyes drift up toward me and my bag. Her sharply trimmed eyebrows raise challengingly. "And where are you going?"

Fuck. This could be a problem. "I'm going to sleepover at my friend's tonight. We're doing a history project together and it's due soon," I tell her, then attempt a smile. "Is it okay if I take some leftovers with me?"

"Don't her parents have food at home?" My mother selfishly asks. I almost chuckle at the incorrect pronoun. "And how often is this going to happen?"

"A lot, I don't know," I attempt to sound casual. Which is always a mistake in this household. "I joined a history club so this project is for that. It's going to improve my grades but there's a lot of extracurricular activity."

My mother hums in a way that tells me she doesn't believe me for a second. "Of course. Whatever you say, just make sure your activities don't get in the way of our shoot tomorrow. Remember if you miss it, you won't have it easy."

And I knew she wasn't joking for a second. I nod obediently and start rummaging for Tupperware to take food in. When I'm done, I dart out of the house before I can be questioned any further, running to catch the bus to the other side of town.

If my parents knew I took the bus, they'd probably kill me. They're against anything public and normal, anything that would give people a reason to think our family is humble and modest. If they saw me on the shadiest part of town, I have no doubt that they'd positively put me on a flight to a remote island.

And not the vacation kind.

San's apartment building is always eerily quiet, with nearly no people showing themselves. It's like no one lives here at all. And he lives on one of the highest floors, so one would think it'd be more lively but it's quite the opposite.

I get outside his door and knock, sliding off my shoes. San opens shortly, as though he'd been waiting by the door the entire time. Though his apartment is kind of small so it wouldn't take him long to answer the door.

I smile when I get inside and lift my Tupperware. "I brought some leftover Marsala, pizza and calzones. Hope you don't mind."

"I was just cooking ramen," he mutters and looks at the food with wide eyes.

"No reason we can't have it all." I stroll inside the kitchen and ramen boils on the stove. I put the Tupperware down on the counter and scan his figure.

San is wearing a black hoodie and grey sweatpants, and looks ridiculously good. His hair is loosely tousled and curling on the sides of his face, and there's a faint, natural blush on his cheeks along with the bruises on his face. It's horrendous how he can look that good.

"You look nice," I blurt. "What's the job for?"

San's cheeks go redder at my comment and I hold back a grin. I struggle to believe that a man this handsome has never been told so. "There are these shady people my boss wants me to take care of. You can come with me, but stay out of the way."

A frown settles on my face. "What if something happens to you?"

San comes up beside me and starts stirring the ramen with a wooden spoon. "I can take them. I know how to fight," he says unbotheredly. But I am very much bothered.

"What am I supposed to do then?" I question.

"Keep your mask on and don't do anything. Seriously, never speak," he warns me. "If they know you're a girl they might fuck with you in a bad way."

I shrug. "It's okay, I can fight."

San shakes his head. "But these are gangsters. Rather just don't."

"I'm just saying, I can take them."

San glances to the side at me, and I innocently bat my eyes with a smile. He has his undefinable signature stare where I can't tell what he's thinking at all.

"Where'd you learn how to fight?" He asks, surprising me.

"I did karate since I was a kid, stopped in the middle of highschool and then got my blackbelt last year."

San nods in silence, a hint of a smile on his face. I can't even tell if it's a smile or not, it's so small and barely there, only a mere quirk of his top lip.

"Where did you learn how to fight?" I return the curiousity. I can't be the only one oversharing.

San eyes the ramen again, his brown eyes trained with concentration. "The 105ths taught me since eighth grade."

"Is that how long you've been affiliated with them?" I gasp. "You were just a kid."

No answer. San carries on as if I haven't spoken and I take the hint.

I take it and discard it immediately.

"Are they forcing you into this?" I ask softly.

"Careful, it almost sounds like you care when I know you're just trying to get away from your family," he shoots me down ungracefully, still not looking at me. I bite my tongue. So close.

I don't know what to say, so I go sit down on the bed. I'm annoyed that he still thinks I'm that shallow, but I can't prove him wrong without confessing my stupid crush.

The sun starts to set and after we eat in complete silence, San stands up and goes to his room. He comes out with his crowbar and a black mask over his nose and mouth, tossing me an identical one with a black beanie.

"Put those on. And remember, no talking. Just observe. Tuck your hair into your hoodie as well," he orders.

I do what he says, my heart racing a little. This would be my first crime escapade outside of casual theft.

"I want twenty percent of whatever you make by the way," I casually say to him, but San's eyes narrow. I can tell he wants to groan.

"We'll talk about that later. Let's see if you can handle it first."

Well, that's ominous.

We leave his apartment and the cold autumn breeze blows into my eyes. The apartment building is even creepier at night, the lift extremely desolate with an unsettling tune playing in the background as we go down to the lowest level.

I watch San in the reflection of the door. His eyes are sharp, cunning and determined. His knuckles are red around as his fist clasps around his crowbar and I can't help but feel over my head here. But I can't panic now. This is what I'll have to live with to get away from this place.

He glances down at me when he sees me staring through the reflection, his eyes filled with something far off and unreachable. "Are you scared?"

I shake my head too fast. "No, why would I be?"

San scoffs and I can feel him smirking under his mask. We leave the apartment building and San leads the way through the busy and dingy streets of his neighborhood.

#ateez angst #ateez imagines #choi san angst #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez scenarios #choi san #choi san fluff #san angst #gang au #ateez gang au

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