The morning had gone by slowly as Chan-woo anxiously waited in his room the entire time. He didn't dare go out for any reason expect to quickly use the bathroom a small handful of times. All of his packing had been completely done an hour after he had awoken. He had changed into the clean outfit he had chosen the night before, the old clothes stored in his duffle bag to wash later.

His mother had been walking around the house loudly in a blind drunken rage for hours. Although Chan-woo really hadn't heard anything from her in a while and he had to wonder if maybe she had finally passed out for the day. Or maybe she was just trying to lure him out, like she had in the past. Either way, he knew he wasn't going to leave his room until exactly 11:59am so he could walk straight out to the car without hassle.

He looked down at his watch that had a crack in the glass and saw it was almost time to leave. This was the moment he had been waiting for. Not only since yesterday, but for his entire life. This was the moment he would finally be leaving this personal hell hole of his. He hoped he'd never, ever, have to see this house again.

Chan-woo double checked over all of his belongings, placed his backpack on and heaved his large, heavy duffle bag off of his bed. He flattened his hooded jumper down on his chest with his free hand before he walked up to his bedroom door that he had spent so many times crying against. A few happy tears came to his eyes as he looked around the bare and dull room one more time.

Without hesitation, he opened the door and walked straight out into the hallway. To his surprise his mother was indeed passed out on the couch in the living room. A grateful sigh passed his lips almost inaudibly. Hate slipped into his eyes without him even realising it as he turned his head and kept walking until he stood in front of the front door. So close to his freedom, his heart pounded loudly in his ears with a wide smile on his face.

The front door opened. His pounding heartbeat grew louder as his heart sunk to the bottom of his stomach. Chan-woo stood silently staring at his father who had just opened the door. The two men said nothing, eyes glued to the other, the room completely tense. His father stood in the doorway, a plastic bag full of alcohol in one hand and an open bottle of alcohol in the other.

Time seemed to slow down as his father threw the opened bottle directly at his head. Chan-woo managed to duck the oncoming item only for it to smash into a million pieces behind him. Shards of small glass rebounded and struck the back of his exposed calves. He ignored the sharp pain in his legs as his attention was drawn to the movement in front of him. His eyes grew wide with fear as his father charged forward with both hands outstretched. The plastic bag abandoned in the doorway.

Two hands wrapped tightly around his neck as he was pushed harshly against the wall near the open door. Scared light brown eyes stared up into angry dark brown eyes. The rest of the world around the two males completely disappeared as Chan-woo fought to breathe and his father fought to destroy his son. His hands scratched at the arms that were firmly staying in place, his airway being crushed, tears rolled down his cheeks.

Chan-woo didn't know why the assault suddenly stopped as he took in deep breath after deep breath. He could hear distant yelling, his watery eyes tried to focus back on his current surroundings. He looked up from his crouched position to see a strange man holding back his father who was still trying to get to him in a fit of blind rage. He whimpered pathetically as he gathered the last of his fleeting courage to grab his dropped duffle bag from the floor and run out of the house.

The second he ran onto the front yard, Chan-woo felt the calmness of the fresh air entering his burning lungs. His throat hurt as he turned his head over his shoulder. He watched the stranger yell at his father as his mother stumbled out into the hallway in a drunk daze. Tears ran down his face as he realised the seriousness of the situation. His new life could be over before it even begun all thanks to his parents yet again.

The stranger, who had charged in the house to help him, eventually walked out. With a concerned look the man gently guided him to a slick black car that was out the front of the house. The man opened the back door, took his two bags off of him and placed them in the boot. As Chan-woo sat in the luxurious car, he realised the man who had helped him was in fact the driver that was to take him to the airport.

With blank eyes, he closed the car door and looked over at his parents that stood angrily on the porch. Chan-woo barely registered the other man getting into the driver's seat as he was preoccupied by the death glare his father was giving him. Just as the car started, his father brought a hand slowly up to his neck. In a slow motion his father moved his closed fist with his thumb sticking out across his neck to signal the action of cutting a throat.

Lucky for him, the car abruptly pulled away. His watery eyes stared out of the window while his mind replayed the terrifying sight he had just witnessed. A shiver ran down his entire body. Absentmindedly, he picked out the small handful of glass shards that had stayed in the back of his calves. The small blood that dribbled down his legs didn't phase him, a sight he was used to. The pain didn't bother his numb body either.

It was now in the safety of the car that he realised the male that had rescued him was talking. The driver seemed to have an earpiece in and was hurriedly talking to the person on the other end. Chan-woo had missed majority of the conversation so he didn't even bother trying to figure out who it was until the driver was finished. Instead, he focused his attention on the buildings that passed him by.

"T-Thank you for your help, sir," whispered Chan-woo after the driver had finished his call. Tears actively ran down his face as he put his hoodie up and shrunk in on himself. "Y-You didn't have to."

"Are you okay kid?" the driver asked as he looked over his shoulder briefly with concern.

"Yes," he whispered. "And no."

"Those bruises around your neck look bad," he sighed as he focused back on the road.

Shit. Chan-woo raised a hand to trace the tender skin. He couldn't believe out of all of the days, his father decided to leave a mark in a visible place. Normally he was really careful with where he'd hurt him. Same with his mother. It was always in places he could easily cover it like his torso or arms or thighs. Never had his father put his hands around his neck before, and the look in his eyes... He'd not forget that look any time soon.

"W-Who were you on the phone to?" Chan-woo asked as a shiver went through his body, remembering the angry eyes staring at him. "N-N-Not the p-police, right?"

"No, kid," the driver tried to reassure the stuttering boy in his back seat. "I called CEO Bang PD Hyung. I was obliged too. I did put my hands on your father after all, even though I didn't physically hurt him."

"Oh," he sighed in relief before he realised his new boss would now know his terrible secret.

"How about you close your eyes for a little, yeah? It'll take us thirty minutes to get to the airport depending on traffic," he turned around and flashed a kind smile at the terrified looking young man.

With a nod of his head, he forced his eyes closed and relaxed back into the comfortable seat behind him. Chan-woo felt tired, borderline exhausted, even though it was just after midday. Although when one goes through something traumatic like he had, it was not that surprising his body and mind were exhausted. The soft bumping and rocking from the car helped send him to sleep fairly quickly. He completely missed the concerned and pitied looks constantly thrown his way the entire way there.