he can feel blue’s impatient eyes on him, gazing thoughtfully at his face and making sam feel a trickle of annoyance while he sits in front of him. “you’re the last person i know who needs a job.” blue deadpans, saying the word like it offended him and his entire family. not that blue has much of a family, he moved out from his mom’s place years ago and as far as sam’s aware he hasn’t talked to her since then– but it’s in the expression. blue’s face has a quality of making him feel like a total fucking idiot and even though sam would laugh in most occasions because he beckoned that on purpose, this time he’s serious. he isn’t being sarcastic or telling an obvious lie, he has a genuine plan and blue is looking at him like he just told him he came from space. it makes him feel immediately defensive and he scowls, leaning back on his chair to cross his leg over the other.
“this is the last time i ask you for help.” he says, indignantly looking away. even if he can’t see blue rolling his eyes he can feel him doing it, and for a vague second he regrets never being serious about anything because blue is so used to his bullshit that he thinks even this is bullshit, too. it brings a grin to his lips but he fights against it, making sure blue won’t crash through his facade. the truth is that he loves making people feel unsure around him, and all of the time no one is really sure if he’s being serious or not. it’s his favorite form of social interaction.
“why would you want a job?” that offended tone again.
“i’m seriously considering kicking you under the table,” sam says, leaning in. there’s no real threat to his voice, just slight irritation and impatience. “i need a job for experience. it’s the summer and i can do it, so just get me something that you think can help me.” he tries keeping the biting tone to a minimum, but some of it still slips out. blue doesn’t seem affected, to his credit. he just keeps looking at him and sam feels his temples starting to hurt. “oh my god, i told you i’m serious.” he sighs loudly, bringing his hands up to thumb over his forehead. talking to blue can be such a pain in the ass sometimes. he always wants all of the facts. sam’s idea of communication is giving half of the facts and maybe some lies to fill in the gaps. truthful lies. good fiction is the truth inside the lie, stephen king said it. a good lie is the truth within the lie. he wants a job because of the experience but also because he loves children.
“fine, i’ll find something.” blue sighs, bringing the plastic straw to his lips and sipping his drink. even though he said he’d help, he sure doesn’t sound like he wants to. it doesn’t really matter to sam, though. blue can think whatever he wants about his request. the only reason sam specifically asked for his help is because blue is good at these type of things. he has the experience that sam doesn’t about being poor– as conceited as it may sound. he respects blue even if he’d never tell him. sam was born into an extremely wealthy family and he grew up never having to worry about money. blue grew up staring at an empty fridge and wearing clothes too small for him because his mom didn’t care enough to notice he had grown out of them. he’s smart in a way that sam never had to learn to be.
“thank you.” sam says despite himself, even though it comes out in a tired sigh.
“–please look below for my contact information and don’t be afraid to ask if you have any questions…"
"so?” blue leans his chin on the top of his palm, raising his eyebrows expectantly at sam. leaning back from the laptop, sam keeps his face carefully blank. he’s not sure about what he was expecting, but he has to hand it to the other. he seemed to know exactly what type of job sam needed, even if sam hadn’t even known himself until now. the more he thinks about it the more it fits. he figured only he could find a job like this appealing for himself if he happened to come across it, and it leaves him slightly unsettled that blue hit the bulls eyes on his situation.
“i need to read it again.” sam says bleakly, not divulging anything to blue. blue purses his lips and watches him lean in again, but sam ignores him and starts over from the top. single father, kid is four years old. sam’s good with four year olds. anywhere from ten to down is his preferred age range in humans. Interacting with kids is so much more fulfilling and simple than interacting with grown ups. despite the fact sam is apathetic and a realist himself, he appreciates the genuinely of kids. everything about them is so honest and for a reason above even his own comprehension he feels tidal waves of protectiveness over children.
hyunwoo sounds like the epitome of needing protection. sam hasn’t even met the kid but the fact that the father mentioned needing someone patient and kind makes sam wonder if any of his previous babysitters treated him wrongly and it makes an uncomfortable knot tie up in his chest. unconsciously, he tugs at the collar of his loose t-shirt as if trying to ease himself from the feeling.
breathing out, he sits back again with his gaze still lingering on the text. “so?” blue presses again, sounding unnerved that it’s taking sam some leisure time to consider it.
“i’ll take it.” sam replies easily, his expression still not giving much away about whether he actually likes the job or not. it’s not on purpose this time, though. this time he’s too lost in thought to notice blue reach across the table for his phone and start dialing a number until he hands it back to him and with mild horror sam sees it’s already ringing. “what the fuck?” he quickly reaches out to take it despite his sudden nerves, looking at blue like he just about lost his fucking mind. “well, you need to call him.” blue replies as if it’s the most painfully obvious thing in the world. “what do you mean, i just–” the receiver picks up and he’s no longer hearing the ringing tone on the other side of the line, now he can hear the muffling of someone bringing the phone up to their ear.
“that concludes the meeting,” the newly employed teacher says, the sigh escaping her lips divulging how exhausting she found the whole event. a sudden look of uncertainty spreads on her face as parents start getting up from their seats, reaching for their briefcases and purses. sechan stays seated as he reaches for his backpack that he stashed under his chair and wonders if that really was the end. the so called fresh meat of the kindergarten department swallows and opens her mouth to stutter, “u-unless anyone has any questions? anything?”
sechan had been expecting a more dramatic question or statement after the look of mild horror on her face, but he guesses that once upon a time he could relate to her anxiety when it comes to these trivial matters. currently, he’s too tired to, so instead of taking a seat closer to her and reassuring her that she had a good first meeting on the job, he gets up from his chair. the rest of the parents smile at her and shake their heads while gathering their things to leave, mumbling out a few ‘not at the moment’ and ‘no, thank you’.
“pamela,” the teacher exclaims - sechan still can’t remember her name - and starts waving her hand in the direction of mrs. gunderson. “i-i mean mrs. gunderson. sorry, mrs. gunderson.”
mrs. gunderson raises an eyebrow at her awkwardness, and a tiny part of sechan feels for the poor woman, walking into unfamiliar territory and dealing with the properly terrifying and old fashioned pamela gunderson practically the moment she stepped into the building. sechan’s never talked to mrs. gunderson himself, but he knows she’s a mother of five and is the wife of a ceo of some large company sechan can’t remember the name of. that would’ve been harmless in itself, but one of the younger mothers - amelia - has a nose for gossip and didn’t hesitate to tell sechan when she overheard mrs. gunderson conversing with another parent how futile it is for a child to have both a mother and a father. according to amelia she went on to strengthen her statement by pointing out hyunwoo’s behaviour, calling him odd and a special case. a child not fit for the public school system.
sechan’s avoided both her and amelia ever since. mrs. gunderson out of hatred and bitterness, and amelia out of embarrassment.
“mrs. gunderson,” the teacher repeats, forcing a small smile onto her lips. “the printed schedule you asked for is on the principal's secretary’s desk in the office. i could show you there if you’d like?”
mrs. gunderson scrunches her nose up like the idea positively disgusts her. “i can find my own way,” she says firmly, tugging her white handbag further up her arm and nodding at the teacher’s mumbled ‘have a nice day’ before exiting the room.
the new teacher exhales as she does, and so does sechan. he shrugs his backpack on after making sure it’s properly closed, feeling grateful for the warm weather since it frees him from the confines of a jacket. the classroom is close to empty by now, sechan realises as he glances across the room. a few parents are still sitting around with their phones in their hands, tapping at their screens with frowns on their faces. he’s about to walk out the door when a hand on his shoulder stops him in his tracks. he turns around abruptly, eyes widening as he looks down to see who it is.
“mr. kang,” the teacher says, smiling more brightly now than she had with mrs. gunderson. “it’s nice to meet you. i haven’t had the chance to properly introduce myself, so i-i’m doing that now.”
sechan returns the smile and reaches his hand forward to shake hers. after having learned that adults tend to prefer that as a greeting he tries to initiate the contact as much as he can. he guesses he’s too young or disrespectful to get why it’s necessary, but people appear to like it so he continues with it. “it’s nice to meet you too, and i’m sorry about that. i didn’t mean to be late or anything, i just couldn’t get off work in time and--”
“it’s alright, mr. kang,” the teacher reassures, quitting his excuse short, holding her hand out to grasp ahold of his. she holds it loosely, almost as if she’s afraid she’ll squeeze it too hard, and her hand is soft and warm. “i’m emma, emma davis. i’m sorry i can’t recall your first name?”
“sechan,” he says, trying to keep the smile on his face as he thinks about how he needs to leave as soon as possible if he wants to make it to work in time. “it’s sechan, but actually-- i actually need to leave. i’m sorry to cut this short.”
ms. davis looks troubled to be told this, letting go of his hand to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. “oh, that’s-- that’s too bad. i needed to speak with you about your son, actually. is it okay if i take just a few minutes of your time?”
sechan’s heart skips a beat when ms. davis mentions hyunwoo. there has been a few times in the past where hyunwoo’s been involved in fights during recess, but only because the other kids pick on him from time to time. he can’t defend himself with his fists, and certainly not with his mouth, and the other kids seem to have realised that. ‘kids can be cruel,’ another mother told sechan as he for once lost his temper and demanded an explanation when they all gathered to discuss it in the principal’s office.
he had been ready to punch her into the ground, the rage slipping out of every corner of him as he’d struggled to control himself. he still had half moon shaped scars on his palms from that time, from when he pressed his nails down so hard that he started bleeding. experiencing that anger had been terrifying, and if ms. davis is about to bring up a similar situation, sechan isn’t ready to hear it.
“y-yeah,” he stutters, trying to keep a neutral expression on his face. he suppresses all of his nervous tendencies and brings a hand up to hold onto his backpack, shoving the other into the front pocket of his jeans to keep them occupied. “is there something wrong?”
ms. davis shakes her head, but something in her eyes tell him she truly thinks otherwise. “well, i’m not quite sure how to put this, but i’m concerned for your son. he isn’t participating in activities with the other kids. he doesn’t want to draw unless he’s alone. he won’t eat by the table with the rest of them either, and-- and i was just wondering if you’re having any problems at home? he seems like a sweet boy, but the days i’ve spent with him has been-- they’ve been challenging.”
sechan lets out a sigh of relief, because he’s had this conversation with every single one of hyunwoo’s teachers and they always go the same way. “right,” he says, pulling a hand through his hair. “right, sorry, i’ll bring his files for you, the doctor’s and the therapist’s, and you can read them if you want. the best thing is to just leave him be. if you’re thinking he should be in some school for special needs kids, then yeah, maybe that’s true. according to law though, i don’t have to transfer him so he’ll keep being challenging. in this school. i’m sure that’s to be expected when working in schools, so that shouldn’t be an issue, now should it? if you have any questions, i’m sure they’ll be answered in the files. i actually really need to go now, but i’ll bring them by on monday when i drop hyunwoo off.”
to say that ms. davis looks baffled by sechan’s vaguely rehearsed response would be an understatement. she’s at a loss for words, but sechan doesn’t have the time or energy to give her a nice and soft explanation, letting her know the ins and outs of taking care of hyunwoo at school. being sleep deprived can do that to you, he thinks as he forces a smile on his face to avoid her thinking he’s a complete asshole. “it was nice to meet you, ms. davis.”
“you too, mr. kang,” ms. davis says, appearing flustered and awkward as she brushes her hair back once more. she clasps her hands together, pressing them against her chest and takes a few steps back as if exiting out of the conversation. sechan turns away from her the second she does, already hurrying out through the door and into the long, abandoned hallway.
tears threaten to spill out of his eyes as he thinks of the minutes he wasted staying behind and how mad his supervisor will be that he’s late again. it’s the third time this week, and sechan’s starting to feel like he’s paving his way to getting fired from this much needed job. it pays the best out of all of them, but it has the worst and most inconvenient hours which is why he can’t seem to get there when he should the majority of the time. with quick steps, he makes his way to the main doors but before he can grab onto the handle his backpack starts to buzz. the melody of his ringtone follows a second after and sechan has to take a deep breath to keep himself from breaking down at the sound of it.
he doesn’t have the time to answer, but considering how he barely has any friends and he just left the school so the teachers shouldn’t be calling to complain, he realises he has to. he shrugs his backpack off his shoulders, puts it down in front of him and kneels down on the floor. the zipper is tough, hard to pull down but after a few desperate tugs he manages to get it open. spare t-shirts, old energy bar wrappers and a battered book or two make it a bit difficult for him to locate his phone, but once he has it the call is answered and his phone is pressed against his ear in seconds.
“hello?” he says, slightly breathless and majorly stressed out, sitting on the floor of his son’s school, sweating through his shirt because he’s late to work and on the verge of another breakdown. he really hopes this is good news.
