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By the time we finish, it’s half past nine.
“Where do you live? I’ll walk with you,” Taehyung offers. I hesitate.
I don’t want him seeing where I live. Not now. Not ever. Especially when I live in an area where all the people on minimum wage reside.
But it’s late. And even though I told Eomma I am with Taeyeon studying at the library, I still have missed calls from her. I never stayed out this late for anything, not even to study.
Plus it’s too dark to walk alone.
Taehyung peers at me expectantly. Eventually, I nod. “Okay. Follow me.”
The night is crispy cold, as it always is this time of year. I am grateful for my long coat, but the cold still seeps through, causing me to shrink into myself, falling into my old habits. He walks just a little behind me, his footsteps a constant reminder that I am not alone, although I still get those looks that make me shiver with fear and apprehension, looks that make me wish I were invisible, or braver. Why are men so creepy?
As we reach my street, a dark forbidden place with a flickering streetlight, my heartbeat quickens. He’s going to see how poor I am, how sad and pathetic my living situation is. But before I can even feel any embarrassment, an arm slithers around my waist. I hear a cackle and look to my left. A drunken old man with two teeth and scraggly facial hair swears out at us while a group of teenage boys on the other side of the street holler as they shake their spray cans, tagging the pavement and any bare space they can find.
It’s dangerous, it’s chaotic, and I want to thank Taehyung for holding me like this, even if it does send tingles through every fiber of my body. His hand rests on my hip while his chest presses against my shoulders as we walk, slower but safer, towards my house, one of many tiny double-story terraces in a consecutive row, with walls so thin you can hear the neighbour’s tv. Once we are in front of it, I quietly announce, “It’s here,” before extracting myself from his arm, stepping away to finally take a deep breath. Why does his touch affect me so much?
“You live here?” Taehyung looks around, before fixing his gaze on me. He looks concerned.
All I can do is nod, tucking my chin into my coat as a smooth breeze lifts my hair back slightly. “I know it’s a shithole, but don’t look so worried. I’m used to it.”
“No one should get used to this…” A loud shout diverts our attention to the group of boys who now run away as the owner of the house they were vandalizing chases them with a stick. It is the third time this month, yet those boys never learn that you don’t mess with Mr Kristopoulos.
I shrug. “It’s better than nothing. For now. One day I will make enough money for us to move away…”
I trail off as another breeze blows through the dark street and I remember my dream. The dream that gets me through all the hardships, giving me an incentive to persevere, to keep going, even though all I want to do is curl up in my bed forever.
I need to be strong. For my mum, for myself. For Taehyung. He can’t know too much about me. But he already knows too much.
“Me too,” Taehyung’s low voice draws me out of my thoughts, and I snap my head to him. “I too want to make enough money and move far away from here. Somewhere. Anywhere. As long as I can be free.”
The way he says this indicates that he thinks about it a lot, perhaps as much as I do. We have a lot in common. Both trapped, both lonely, both filled with secrets…
“We’re very similar, aren’t we?” I say lightly. Taehyung’s lips twitch with a smile as he nods. “We are, Aria, we are.” He chuckles. “But you’re better than me.”
He says it so unexpectedly, I wonder if I misheard him. “What?”
He shakes his head, glancing at the ground. His tongue darts over his lips, hands buried deep in his pockets. One hand escapes to brush the back of his hair, forking through it absent-mindedly as he collects his words.
“I’ve made a lot of mistakes as a teenager that I’m still paying for. Those two guys before are part of those mistakes.”
I wait for him to continue, watching him silently. He seems like he wants to tell me this, so I let him, because frankly, I am curious.
“I was so stupid, Aria. I mean, I still am, but back then, I didn’t understand that those guys were using me because I was a naïve, innocent boy who didn’t know any better.” He sighs. “They made me steal, and they paid me for it too. In chocolate bars.” He laughs harshly. “I thought I was so cool, hanging out with an older gang, doing their dirty work. And I never got caught. Not once. The police would never suspect someone like me. And it’s not like I can tell those guys to leave me alone, not when they can easily send me to jail with all the evidence they have. My family have no idea, but now…Oh, Aria, I shouldn’t have punched him,” he palms his forehead regretfully, gritting his teeth. “They’re gonna kill me.”
I take a step toward him, touching his arm. He tenses, closing his eyes. “Taehyung.” He slowly lowers his arm, opening his eyes. But he avoids my gaze. “Taehyung, look at me.” He looks at me. I feel my breath momentarily hitch in my throat as I am reminded of how vivid his features are, even under the pale streetlight. He is carved so perfectly, his face so symmetrical your eyes cannot help but drink in the sight of him, his mere appearance making you feel simultaneously at ease while also in awe.
I almost forget what I want to say.
“Taehyung, they’re not gonna kill you,” I say firmly. “They wouldn’t do that. From what I’ve seen, they’re complete cowards. I mean, making a poor kid steal stuff for them? Pathetic. If they’re so tough and cool, they would do it themselves. I swear, if I see them again I won’t hold back. They will never suspect a girl to beat them up!”
Taehyung chokes out a laugh, and I smile, content that I cheered him up with my passionate speech. I believe every word I said. They are cowards. And people like them are the reason I hate people.
Except Taehyung.
No one can hate Taehyung.
“This is why you’re the best, Aria,” he touches my cheek and I let out a small gasp. His hand is freezing.
“Are you Elsa? Why are you so cold?” I jump back from him, but he just reaches forward even more, pressing both his icy hands to my face.
“Why are you so warm?” he smirks, and I turn away from him quickly, embarrassed even more. But I cover it up by saying, “Because I am angry!”
“You’re angry?”
“Yes, I’m very angry! That Frankie midget and the overgrown giant Vincent or whatever his name was –” Taehyung laughs, doubling over, and I frown, hands on my hips. “Why are you always laughing at me? You really want to die, don’t you?”
Taehyung straightens up, flicking tears from his eyes. “No, you’re just really funny.”
“I’m not that funny,” I mumble.
Taehyung pats my head, or rather, he pats the cap on my head, the only thing keeping me warm up there, and smiles fondly at me. “You’re funny to me, Ari-Yah.”
No one has ever thought that I am funny, nor have they told me so to my face. Taehyung has a habit of speaking his thoughts, letting me know what he wants, what he feels. I wish I could be that brave too.
“Aria?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you for being my friend,” he says this with so much emotion I wonder if he’s going to cry, but he just smiles softly at me. “Thank you for understanding. And I’m sorry…”
“Don’t be sorry about anything,” I am quick to interrupt, but he shakes his head, licking his lips.
“No, I’m really sorry. I didn’t want you to see that, see me like that, or know about it. Ah, I’m so embarrassed,” he chuckles, scratching the back of his head. “Anyway, I’m sorry.”
“Stop saying that, it’s getting annoying now,” I’m frowning, but my words are playful.
“Okay, then can I just say thank you? Because ever since I met you…”
His potentially heartfelt speech is cut off by a familiar voice calling out from the balcony, “Aria, what the hell are you doing?”
I close my eyes and sigh. Eomma.
When Taehyung turns to look up at her, I can see her eyes widen. “Are you with a boy? Aria, come inside right now!”
I cover my face with my hand, dying of humiliation. Why is she doing this to me right now? I then remember that it must be after ten o’clock now. Crap.
“I have to go,” I mutter, not even sparing Taehyung a glance as I march toward the steps, but I am stopped abruptly as my arm is yanked back. My world is a blur as I spin towards him, slamming against his body roughly as if we were in a drama. He stares deep into my eyes, my soul, and I shiver, suddenly feeling cold.
“Aria,” his voice is hoarse, and out of the corner of my eye I notice that my mum is still standing on the balcony, watching us like a hawk. I gulp.
“Y-yes?” I can barely look at him, but then again, there’s nowhere else to look. His face fills my entire field of vision, his breath palpable against my skin as he whispers, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He then lets me go and I stumble back, practically gasping for air as I hear the urgent call of my mother from above. He flicks his eyes up and then waves at her, a big smile blooming across his face. “Hello, Aria’s Eomma!”
And then he turns and marches off into the darkness, leaving me to face the wrath of my mother. Thanks a lot, Taehyung.
【★】
Dedicated to squishybbyboyjimin for helping me come up with the idea for the chapter, especially the backstory of Taehyung and his regretful teenage years
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