TaeWon pouted, his shoulders slumped as he stared at the food the stranger had in their hand before he looked over at the familiar face next to him. “I’m really hungry.” He complained, moving to stand up. “I need to find another job.” Even if he had to kill another person, he had to find a job and quickly. He didn’t tell his friends about his struggles, mostly because he didn’t like making them feel bad. He wanted them to be happy, so he tended to keep that to himself.
It was no surprise that he hadn’t told the other he was actually starving and homeless, having gone days without food now. His jobs consisted of anything from murder, which he truly despised but if it meant he got food he had to do it, to smuggling drugs, and weeding gardens. Really, he wasn’t as bad as he seemed. Most would make him out to be a terrible person if they heard about him and what he’d done. He, in fact, was nothing more than someone trying to stay alive. He acted more like a child than he did an adult most of the time, unless he was doing a job, and after he finished his jobs he tended to cry his eyes out. “I really have to go find a job so I can eat. Can we hang out tonight?”