Unknown beginning - (Roxas and Choikang) 1
"This is where you are going to do your first job."
Choikang's boss, Song Young was willing to help, of course he was. He did after all give him a home. But why did he feel so uneasy? Was it because he was going to give away his virtue in one of the most slovenly of ways? It could have been something like that, but truth be told, 'Choikang' was scared and reeked of inexperience - in all sense of the word.
Taking the small matchbox, his fingers fuddled between it. He saw the club's name and address. It was a place only a few miles away from where he was now. Looking back up, he saw Young come up to him and placed a firm hand upon him. His eyes looked upon the frightened young male with a gaze perpetually unsympathetic and stern. He nodded once.
"You're the most handsome guy I have. Bring me some insurance, okay?"
His hand hovered down right to his collar and his fingers swept against the creases of the black satin. His lip curved into a smile.
"Cheer up, mate." With his free hand, he guided him out of the door. His brows perked in the most peculiar of ways. His eyes rolled back up at him with a mischievous smile. "All you need to do essentially is to have fun. Not only that, you're going to get paid for it... Now off you go,"
Without another word, Young pushed him out of the door and back out into the street. The cold shot back up into his body when he tripped against the gravel and tar. While he got up he wondered what on earth he gotten himself into. Maybe he was better off living on the streets, but why, why wouldn't those petty men take him into the factory to work just like everyone else? With a small sigh, he got himself up and started to walk towards the club.
***
The music was merely just a series of repeated thuds and a few CG sounds thrown in. But the DJ situated on top of the makeshift stage seemed to be hard at work, switching the vinyl discs and scratching a few others. What did he have to do to achieve a coherent piece of sound?
Changmin was unsure of what to do. It was the first time that he was ever thrown into such a place. The only thing he knew was the church and the nunnery his inner child resided. He was that one needle in a closed haystack. Straying away from the music, he made his way to the bar where he slumped into one of the unoccupied stools.
He didn't realised the man next to him until he opened his mouth to order another drink. He stunk of liquor and was on the verge of collapsing. His words were slurred and he spoke with an anguish so disturbing that it almost made the young boy jump out of his seat.
Who was wayward now?
Looking over to him, he noticed the features of his face. Though his dark bangs made it hard for Changmin to see his face, he managed to distinguish the symmetry of his nose and the curve of his thin lip. The man felt his stare eating against him. It was quite frightening to watch. He's head turned in the most atrocious way. The way in which he composed himself was barely even human. It took all his strength not to jump and slit the boy's throat there and then.
"What?" He barked. His small, mismatched eyes seemed like they were about to burst from their sockets.
Many thoughts were running through his head at once. Why he harbored so much anger and more importantly why did this man, though obviously a few years older looked almost exactly like he did? It was clear that he indeed was not imagining this thought because the weird man flinched at his gaze. A painful groan escaped his throat before he managed to reform words.
"So who are you?" He asked nonchalantly. "You look a little tacky in those clothes by the way."
Well, what a great way to start a conversation. He thought to himself.
The young man diverted his gaze back to the bar. His whole composure really scared him. It was like he wanted to run, but his fear would not allow him to do so. With all the strength he could muster, he opened his quivering lip and forcefully spoke to him.
"Choikang Changmin,"
The man just laughed. His sadism was to the point where Changmin just wanted himself to slit his throat. But then again, what did he know? He watched him while he downed another shot of vodka.
"What kind of a name is that?" He chuckled licking the residue of the tip of the glass.
"I don't know... My pimp gave me that name,"
He stopped. Just from that one sentence, his expression changed. The man's face looked upon him with an eerily gentle smile and an unsuspecting sympathy. He moved closer to him and whispered in his ear.
"So... Do you want to get out of here?"
His eyes widened. Was this Song Young's impression of "having fun"? He didn't want to refuse out of fear, but he didn't really want to go either. He nodded on impulse and before he knew it, he was being dragged out of the club with the seemingly. estranged man
