10 Years Ago

The sun was bakingly hot as it shone down on the two boys sitting outside a convenience store. One of them rationing out their money while the other swirled a sucker around in his mouth.

Then sighing heavily, the boy pulled it out with a smacking pop to ask, "We don't have any money, do we?"

The slightly taller and more lanky of the two boys shook his head and muttered, "Not really. And we only have two options."

"Which are?" asked the boy with angular features and a perpetually resting bitch face.

The lanky boy sighed and dropped his forehead onto his knees as he muffled, "We either have to steal something or find ourselves a job."

His friend burst out laughing at that and gasped, "Who the hell would hire us! Two obvious runaways that squat in empty vacation homes.... Hah! Yeah, right!"

"Sehun! I'm being serious. We need to do something," he said.

"Well then, Chanyeol, why don't you use your charming good looks and impeccable skills of persuasion to get us a job?"

Chanyeol chuckled and quietly replied, "I might just have too."

--

That night, his demons visited him; the same repetition repeated on a loop.

Her voice like a beautiful nightmare screaming in his memories. Faces he could no longer remember, and ones he wish he could forget. Breaking glass and opening wounds that bleed over floors. Fire filling a house and the suffocating cloud that took her away forever.

The nightmares of a three year old; a trauma that took her away forever.

The next morning Chanyeol woke up to the faint sound of footsteps on freshly polished floors, and eyes widening, he quickly jumped to his feet. His eyes frantically searched for Sehun, and when he caught a flash of white in his peripheral vision, he glanced down to find a note safety pinned to his shirt. It read:

Morning, Chan.

Went out for awhile, meet you at the usual place.

- Sehun

Chanyeol sighed in relief that he didn't have to worry about Sehun getting caught, but now his only problem was getting out himself.

As quietly as Chanyeol could, he crept down one of the hallways. He heard voices in the distance, and when he was getting ready to turn around another corner, someone suddenly appeared in front of him. Acting reflexively without thinking about his actions, Chanyeol's arm snapped out and punched the unexpected face.

They fell to the ground with a groan as Chanyeol was grabbed from behind, a frantic woman's voice filled the air and the concerned words of someone asked, "Mr, Park, are you hurt?" before Chanyeol's mind went dark and the nightmares overtook him, and he collapsed to the floor just like the man.

---

When Chanyeol woke up, the first two things he saw was his caged prison and the man standing on the other side. He had been leaning casually on the cell bars, and when he noticed that Chanyeol had woken up, he quickly straightened and said, "You have a really powerful right hook. And that vacation home you were squatting in, just be thankful you didn't break in to one who's owner is ballistic and demanded you be locked up."

At that, Chanyeol couldn't help his sarcastic laugh as he said, "Then what do you call this?" as he pulled on one of the bars.

The man smiled thinly and muttered, "Moot point. They only put you in here because they didn't know if you were dangerous or not, and your first impression wasn't very reassuring."

Chanyeol just stared at him, not saying anything, the man chuckled awkwardly and asked, "May I know your name?"

"Chanyeol."

"Is that all?" the man asked. Chanyeol nodded. The man pursed his lips and grabbed a nearby chair, swinging it around so he could sit down. "Okay, Chanyeol, I'm assuming your a runaway, but you know we'll have to contact your parents, so if you'll please . . .?"

Chanyeol just shook his head again, and the man sighed before saying, "Chanyeol, don't make this any more difficult than it already is."

Chanyeol shook his head again and said, "No, I'm not trying to be difficult, the thing is . . . I'm an orphan. My parents died when I was very young and I've been jumping around foster care since I was about four. And I don't have any other name beside, Chanyeol."

The man's brow furrowed, pain for this young boy evident in his eyes. He tapped his chin, thinking, before he glanced up to meet Chanyeol's gaze and asked, "Mr. Chanyeol, then, my name is Mr. Park, and I'm having maybe one of the craziest ideas in the world. Would you like to hear it?"

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