맛있어요 prologue I - Xiumin
맛있어요
xiumin/kris ; past xiuchen, slight krisyeol bc krisyeol helloooo~
i'm a dumb
this is for my son astrid
she deserves it
kris, a drowsy CEO riding on his father's coattails, and xiumin, a cynical diner owner, cross paths once without noticing and hope to never do it again
Alright, so basically, since I have no life, I decided to write my son Astrid a fic because she's amazing and I love her to pieces even though she is a dumb, but she is a cute dumb.
I have a lot of notes for this story so bare with me:
a.) this is not where the story begins. i will be writing two seperate POVs for both xiumin and kris because they have different pasts and if i put it all together in the story, i won't be done by the certain deadline which is around december. (oops its 2k14 i am stupid)
b.) this setting of this story is in different places. for xiumin, he will start in s. korea, studying abroad in beijing, moving back to s. korea, and then to the united states finally. for kris, he will start in canada, study in beijing as well, and instantly move to america with plenty of little things inbetween
c.) the age groups will mostly be at 17 to around 23. in my knowledge, korea graduates in february (i could be wrong) and xiu's birthday is in march so he graduates around 17 and then finally goes to america around 21-22 ? idk i'm just babbling on. if anyone reads this, i don't want them to be confused at all ok
warnings : angsty, homophobic language, and self-harm and slight harassment. yeah
wow that was a long ass a/n but here we go~
Kim Minseok. That was his name. He was quite handsome and an amazing scholar. He was always the top 100 at his school (being ranked top 50 was something he just couldn't get down) and he wasn't well known, yet wasn't unknown either. He was there, and it was a good thing, in his opinion. No need to stand out for anything and be criticized for every small thing you do, like if you were in a play, and you tripped over a stage prop and landed flat into someone's lap, or fucked up chances to beat the rival high school at a soccer game by not doing the correct play. See? Small things that could be easily avoided if one had just stayed out of everyone's way.
The one thing that one could say he was slightly known for was his relationship with one kid. Just one. He treated everyone the same way; kind, friendly, understanding. That one kid, that one boy, had changed Kim Minseok's view on life forever. Kim Jongdae, the owner of an amazing singing voice that could melt you into the pavement you stood on. That same voice had touched Minseok's heart, and there he had fell in love with the said boy. As he had initially approached Jongdae to praise him for his performance, he left with a flushed face and one thing that he would never forget ever past those luscious lips : "Thanks, cutie." Wink.
Now, it wasn't something big, but to Minseok, the boy who read new books every 2 days, or the boy who had won the school's beauty pageant in primary school for females, that one quote statement was everything, and he held onto it for the next 6 months until the wonderful King Jongdae spoke to him again, this time with a more serious initiative.
"You think I have a nice voice, right?" Jongdae said, plopping down at the desk in front of Minseok's.
Currently, Minseok's face was full of bibimbap (his favorite meal, bless his little heart) so it fell out of his mouth and onto his desk. Jongdae was talking to him, without him having to speak first. It was incredible, as he soon realized that he probably ruined his chances greatly with his poor table manners.
"Yes." Swallow. "Yes, I do. You sound amazing."
Jongdae smiled and with that they became acquaintances, the younger talking the elder into doing things he had never imagined, like drinking himself silly at a bar with Jongdae's friends, Baekhyun and Jonghyun, having to explain to his parents why he came home at 8 in the morning every Saturday and Sunday. Yes, Jongdae had brightened Minseok's life greatly. So greatly, that they had started to see each other intimately, Jongdae being the elder's first in everything: first kiss, first hug, first...you know, even first love. They talked about the future, marriage, adopting children, even if it was suspicious that Jongdae never introduced Minseok to his parents as his boyfriend, only a friend.
None of that mattered to Minseok as he spiraled downhill with every wet trail of kisses that Jongdae would trace on his neck, with every thrust into him, and I love you's lingering in his mind as his nails created crescent shapes into his palms every time he tried to resist the temptation that Jongdae gave him daily. Until that one faithful day.
It was a normal school day. Baekhyun pranced around the couple as usual, holding hands as Jongdae walked the elder to class, said boy blushing profusely.
"Are you guys even listening to me?" Baekhyun chipped, poking at Jongdae's cheek as he whispered sweet nothings into his lover's ear, not knowing that eyes were following his every move, every smile, every peck on the lips by the boy it would hurt the most.
Jongdae came home that same day, hearing that his father had shown up to his school to retrieve school records he had missed the week before. His father had saw everything: the hand-holding, the kisses, the smiles, the love in his son's eyes for a disgusting little runt of a boy who was going to steal everything he had taught to prevent this sort of thing from happening away.
"No son of mine will become some sissy-loving cunt." A strike of a hand against a cheek. "It's an abomination." He grabbed his son and shook the hell out of him, smacking him senseless, causing his phone falling out of his pocket. He let go of the boy's collar to retrieve it, looked once, and threw it at the wall, shattering the screen.
"Get out of my sight," he said. His voice low. "There's more where that came from if you play around with that son of a bitch again." He pushed Jongdae on the ground and kicked him in the ribs, hard. "And if I catch you with him, I'll kill you both and you'll be in hell together."
That was all he needed to say. It was all that mattered.
The phone on the floor with the shattered screen showed him and Minseok, smiling carefree. Too bad it ended way too soon.
--
The next day, Minseok hopped from one foot to the other as he waited for his boyfriend to kiss him on the cheek and walk him to class. Yeah, he was dating a boy 2 years younger than him, but did it matter? He didn't look like a boy who was 2 years younger, and he certainly didn't act like one either, with his sass and his arrogance. It was a good quality for him. But Minseok couldn't stop his feet from running over to Jongdae, who's face was battered, and bandaged.
"Oh my god, baby, are you alright?" Minseok asked, reaching out to touch the bandages across his cheek. Jongdae swatted the elder's hand away and pushed him, making the boy stumble to the ground.
"Just stay away from me, okay?"
Minseok was puzzled. "But, Dae-Dae, you said--"
"I know what I said, and what I said was stay away from me!" Jongdae shouted. Students turned their heads to see the commotion.
The elder finally rose from the ground and stabbed Jongdae in his chest with his finger. "I don't know what's with you, Kim Jongdae, but hopefully you get your act together." He turned on his heel and headed for the school, not expecting the response he got in return.
"I did get my act together and I'm glad I finally see that I shouldn't be with a fat ass fruitcake like you."
The laughter resonated around him and it grew even louder as he tried to keep his tears from falling. How could anyone be so cruel? The whole day, whispers were passed behind his back. Hell,, even in front of his back. Kim Minseok, the boy who once read 2 books every 2 days, and the boy who had won a beauty pageant in primary school for females, had reached his bottom.
The next couple of months had become a routine: wake up, go to school, get called a homo in front of the teachers, who didn't help at all, get hazed on a regular basis, go home, hurry and wash his clothes before his mother suspected anything, and keep a fake smile. It was all he had learned how to do ever since Jongdae has humiliated him like that. He thought about it at night, when he had a somewhat good day, not that many insults flying around, and a test day so no riffraff. Times like that would result in having tear stains on his cheeks when he woke up in the morning. He didn't feel anything at all, only numb. He needed something to feel, anything.
Minseok laid on his side, starting out the window expressionless. There was no exact point in going to school anymore if all he did was get punched in the gut all the time. All of the pain was bottled up and he had no way of getting it out. His mother had always said it was a bad idea to keep things bundled up like that.
He had heard about people releasing frustration in cutting, but could he really bring himself to do that? Had it really come to that point? Minseok bit his lip as he looked out into the hallway of his home. His mother was likely still sleeping, and his father had left for work hours ago. It would be okay if he did it once, right? He could get away with it if he was quiet enough. His pain tolerance was pretty good. He closed the door and locked it, turning on the shower afterwards. Maybe if he sat under the shower head, it wouldn't be so bad. It would just wash right down the drain, like the rest of his hopes and dreams. Scrambling in the drawer, he found straight-away razors his father uses occasionally to get a good, close shave. He placed the razor on the counter top, staring at it as he undressed. He was really going to do this.
He stepped under the spray of water, making sure to wash himself thoroughly before doing the task at hand; his mother always said scrubbing open wounds with soap can risk infection. Once he cleansed himself, he picked the blade and held it at his pinky finger. He at least wanted to feel it. He dragged the blade down the fingerpad, red beads rising immediately. Nothing, he noted. I felt nothing. He pulled at the skin and a red line seeped out of the wound and dripped onto the shower floor. Surely, that wasn't what all the fuss was about.
He moved down to his wrist and dragged it down. Not across the road, down the street, he thought. Blood rose to the surface in beads and slowly ran down his arm, mixing in with the water. Minseok was mesmerized as he watched the crimson stream get swallowed by the drain before a bang was at the door. He jumped.
"Minseok-ah!." It was his mother. "How are you doing in there? You seem a little quiet. You're never this quiet in the bathroom."
Minseok quickly rinsed the blade and hid it underneath the shampoo bottle. He'll find somewhere to hide it later. "Sorry, ma. I'm just a little tired. I didn't go to sleep until late last night."
A moment. "Well, maybe you should go to sleep earlier next time, yeah?"
"Mm-hmm. Yes, ma'am."
"Well, hurry it up. I have to get to work early this morning."
Minseok cut the shower off and remembered the blood. He swiftly grabbed a towel and wrapped himself up, wiping the blood off at the sink.
Never again, he promised. Never.
A year later
After Minseok had graduated from that wretched school (Jongdae had tripped him up going on stage, the nerve of that guy) moving away from the area, or the country, was the best thing he could do. So, he decided to study in China. It was a new start with new faces, and a new language. He could start completely over and forget about the past, and keep the promise he made to himself about not cutting ever again, even though he had broken it two times. He was pretty sure his parents had found out, considering they called him everyday and told him to see a counselor. He always reassured them, saying he was fine, because he was. He was in a dark time and he wasn't doing to do it again. No matter how relaxing it felt.
Residing in Beijing was hard. He didn't have much income so he at least needed a roommate, but with the language barrier, how the hell was he supposed to do that? He had bought a Chinese phrasebook as soon as he landed and used the best of his abilities to find a nice local to let him reside with them until further notice.
His search was complete when he found two young men, Zhang Yixing and Lu Han, who were kind enough to take him in. They also went to the university Minseok was attending and became companions immediately. Lu Han loved to play soccer so him and Minseok played after classes on certain days, even if it was rainy. Something about weather endurance, Lu Han said. He was very nice and was friends with practically everyone in their class because of it. It was hard to believe that him and someone like Yixing, who was shy and quiet, were best friends. Yixing was a guitar player and he often lulled Minseok to sleep every night with his idle strumming night after night.
The three boys soon added another boy after 2 months. His name was Li Jiaheng, but he liked to be called Wufan, or some days Kris. Overall, the guys called him Kris, and he was a weird one from the beginning with all these names. He also had weird nightly rituals where he applied weird creams to his face which made him smell like peppermint and medicine. Other than that, he was a pretty chill guy. Apparently, he was a big shot basketball player in high school, and got all the girls. If only his high school career was like that, Minseok thought. His life would be so set and he wouldn't be sitting in a rundown apartment in China, running away from his fears.
It seemed he couldn't escape them, however, when he got an e-mail from an anonymous source.
You think you can run away but you can't, you pansy freak.
Minseok's breath hitched. The message didn't even have a traceable sender. He typed back.
I'm sorry, but may I ask who this is?
He got a message right back.
Oh, Minseok, you forgot about me already? That's so likely of you.
Instantly, he knew who it was. He closed the browser window and shut down the computer down all together. He had to ask for help from his friends; hopefully they had a solution.
--
Lu Han finished his can of cola before burping out loud. "You should change your identity. That's what I did."
Yixing threw his finished can at the boy. "Lu, that makes no sense."
Lu Han threw the can back at Yixing. "Yes, it does. My name used to be Xiao Lu, but then my parents dropped the Xiao and added a 'Han'. So shut up. You don't know me."
Yixing shook his head in amusement. "Ok, Lu. If you say so."
Lu Han folded his arms. "I do say so," he muttered.
Minseok stood up and went to the center of the room. "Come on guys, this is serious." His sleeve flew back and revealed a bandaid.
Wufan sat forward and narrowed his eyes. "Yo, what is that?" The boy hurriedly pulled down his sleeve and looked to Lu Han for help. Lu Han's eyed widened and nodded his head as he caught the hint.
"Come on, Wufan. Help him out," Lu Han egged on. "What's your suggestion?"
Wufan pondered for a moment before spring out of his seat, wiggling a finger in the air. The three remaining boys looks at one another, as they had never seen the stoic figure do anything remotely close to what he had just pulled.
"Do as what Lu Han did. Change your name. O-or even your whole identity."
With that, the young, ruffled haired boy sat in his China apartment with his Chinese friends looking for a new identity. They went to countless places searching for a new wardrobe, practically forcing him to throw away his prized possessions in order to start anew (like his tattered hoodie he'd had for almost 7 years, or the "lucky" pillow case that smelt like feet and saliva, according to Yixing). Here he was sporting a short, red pixie cut and pierced ears. His clothes were chic and modified (thanks to Lu and Wufan) and his shoes had no holes in them. He barely looked recognizable and it was all thanks to his friends; his real friends.
2 years later
Unfortunately, his journey in Beijing did not last. He had decided to finally go back and face his fears, despite the puppy pouts Lu Han made when he would waddle into the kitchen in the morning, or the aggressive strumming Yixing did late at night instead of his normal melodies, or even the tears Wufan cried in front of him when he was drunk one night. He tried his best to resist them, and he did well, leaving with promises of returning if necessary, and Lu Han's tears on his shoulder. Minseok, I mean Xiumin, showed up at the Incheon airport a brand new person. It wasn't like anyone stayed around here anyway. Last he talked to Baekhyun, he said he was going to finally meet his internet boyfriend Chanyeol, He'd only seen him once, but he looked like a maniac. A cute maniac, but still, a maniac. He wondered how that worked out for him. Baekhyun was the only one who had still talked to him after the Jongdae thing went down.
Xiumin moved into a lowly apartment and applied for a busboy job at a restaurant downtown in Seoul. The head chef, Kyungsoo, was a snippy little thing. All nice with bug-eyed innocence until you fucked up one of his plates and it got sent back to the kitchen. It didn't happen often, more like barely ever, but he still went ape-shit on the cooks behind the doors. Even the tall tan one who was silent all the time and always pinched the boy's butt when he walked past, causing a smirk to paint his face. Obviously, they were fucking, and fucking daily.
He didn't say much to his co-workers, only Good Morning's and Good Night's. It wasn't like he was being rude or anything, he just wasn't looking for friends or even acquaintances this time around. Xiumin wanted to live his life the right way, and without hassle or boyfriends or fake best friends who held your hand when you got stupid, drunk tattoos on your lower back. He hadn't touched a blade in about 10 months and he wasn't going to break his streak because some lousy cook wanted to go get drinks after work.
Too bad he could follow his own prescribed rules, because there he was, wasted, in a dance club. Bright lights flashed throughout the entire room as he began to sway to the music like a tree in the breeze. The crowds of people gyrating and kissing on one another made the room hot and sweaty and Xiumin had almost stripped his entire outfit. Luckily, his co-worker, he later learned his name was Junmyeon, was there to make sure he wasn't completely naked.
After he danced and jumped on Junmyeon a few times, he had started his way home, twirling his jacket in his hand and skipping down the street as he neared his apartment. He hummed a tune he had heard at the club and started to shimmy his hips in front of his door. A couple of footsteps came from the side of him. He looked down the hallway to reveal a dark-hooded figure, leaning deathlessly against the door frame. The only thing that was visible was the mortifying smile that crept onto his lips while he seemingly eyed Xiumin up and down.
Xiumin swayed from side to side before speaking. "H-how may I h-help y-ou?" he slurred.
The figure chuckled. "Oh, little snowflake, it's not what I can do for you. It's what you can do for me." He ran his hands down Xiumin's lithe body, emitting a squeak from the boy. He was too out of it to even comprehend what was even happening. The man continued to feel the poor boy up, taking the keys from his hand and unlocking the door himself. "I think we should continue this inside, don't you think?" Xiumin made a gargling noise, and the man smiled, taking him into the apartment. It wasn't until Junmyeon had reappeared and saw the whole scene.
"Yah, what are you doing?" Junmyeon shouted. He ran over and grabbed the man by his arm, slugging him in the process and making him fall to the ground. "Get out of here, you creep!" The man scrambled to his feet and fled. Junmyeon checked on Xiumin, who was leaning against the door frame, still swaying from side to side. "Xiumin hyung, are you okay?"
Xiumin eyed the worried man and bust out in a fit of giggles. "Are you okay, Junmyeon 'hyung'?"
With that, Junmyeon lead the boy into his apartment, feeling like a frustrated mother with her son, considering the elder would not cooperate in washing his face, or brushing his teeth, or putting on his pyjamas...or getting into the bed.
"Junmyeon, who was that guy?" Xiumin yawned. He sunk lower into his blankets, his eyelids getting heavier every second. "I didn't even know him." One more yawn.
Junmyeon shook his head and twitched his lip. "Don't worry about who it was." He patted the elder on head. "Just know that if it ever happens again, you can call me, alright?"
Xiumin nodded his head weakly and turned over on his side, drifting to sleep.
A few months after that incident had happened, Xiumin had silently vowed himself never to drink again. If Junmyeon hadn't shown up, who knows what would've happened. To show his gratitude, he had been following the latter around 24/7, trying to repay him with promises of cake every Tuesday morning and vouchers to the local market. Junmyeon waved all of that off, claiming "it wasn't necessary". The elder finally let it go after Junmyeon had stopped him while they were walking to the bus stop.
"Hyung, it's okay," Junmyeon reassured. "You don't have to pay me back with anything. We're friends. It's what friends do." Xiumin nodded and looked down at the ground as the bus rolled up to the curb. "Alright. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" The latter nodded as he watched the man board the bus, waving at him through the window. Xiumin waved back and walked to his lonesome apartment.
--
Kyungsoo lined up all of his employees, pacing in front of them with a clipboard in hand. He called each one of his employees off one by one, indicating that they were present.The tall tan one, Xiumin finally found his name, Jongin, blew a few kisses to the latter when he called his name, making his pale cheeks turn crimson, his already doe-like eyes widen. Jongin smiled in triumph afterwards, even after the shorter man hit him upside the head with the clipboard.
"Good evening to all of you. I hope you've all had a blessed day so far but there are some things we need to discuss." Kyungsoo looked down at his clipboard. "Kiseop, you have had several incidents regarding to the way you clean the floors. It seems you have not taken the time to place a wet floor sign around the areas you have mopped, and I do not need a lawsuit on my hands because you can't comprehend that people need to know that there is water on the floor. Do I make myself clear?"
Kiseop bowed. "Yes, sir. It will not happen again."
"Thank you," Kyungsoo concluded. He looked down at the clipboard. "Ah, Jongin. Do you mind switching shifts with Hyosonn? Just for the week. She has this weird thing going on with her sinuses." The tan male opened his mouth to protest. "Great. You can start right now. Well, don't just stand there. Get to it. Snap snap~" Jongin gave an exasperated sigh and slapped his palms on his thighs, then headed towards the kitchen. Kyungsoo chuckled airily, now looking at his clipboard "Ah, he is such a doll. Now, who else did I want to speak with? Ah. Xiumin?"
Xiumin nodded and stepped forward. "Um, yes?"
Kyungsoo smiled warmly and hopped over the elder. "You will be working under me from now on. Is that alright with you?" Xiumin started to respond. "Wonderful. Just go into the kitchen and I'll be right there in a moment. Thank you." Xiumin nodded and walked towards the kitchen doors. "Alright, now, will someone please tell me who was the one who put the peppers in the sauce the other day? Do you know how many complaints I got from that?" A bundle of voices overlapped one another before the doors closed behind him.
Xiumin stood by the sink as he waited for Kyungsoo to come, watching as Jongin and some pale kid with a lisp argue about who was going to take the table with the hot babe or whatever. Like it really mattered. They were lowlife kids anyway, trying to make ends meet by working at a restaurant to pay for student loans or whatever they did. They'd be lucky if she even looked at them, Xiumin thought.
Kyungsoo stormed into the kitchen, looking around frantically. "Okay, let's get this show on the road." He clapped his hands and looked over to the kids quarreling. "Sehun and Jongin, I'm pretty sure that the girl you're arguing about wouldn't ever give you the time of day. I'm sure Xiumin agrees with me? Right?"
The boy stammered. "I-I, j-ust...not necessarily."
Sehun looked over and folded his arms. "Well, who cares about your opinion anyway," the boy muttered.
"Well, if you two want to lose your number one source of income,, I suggest you get to work," Kyungsoo said. He turned to Xiumin. "You. Follow me." He began walked to the other side of the kitchen with Xiumin following right behind him.
Weaving through the kitchen, Kyungsoo continued to talk. "Alright, Xiumin, have you ever cooked anything in your life?"
Xiumin nodded while maneuvering past a man with a hot plate in both of his hands. "Uh, yeah, kinda-sorta."
"Awesome. 'Kinda-sorta' is what we need from you right now," Kyungsoo chirped. They ended up at the grill. "Do you feel comfortable being my sous-chef or do you want to go back to picking up people's half-eaten meals?"
Xiumin nodded. "Um, yeah, sure, I'll be your sous-chef." To be honest, he didn't even know what that meant. But, hey, the more you know.
"Great. Now hand me the cooking oil," Kyungsoo said. Xiumin blinked at him. "Hand me the squirty-bottle, right over there." The elder did what he was told.
Kyungsoo sprayed the oil all over the the cooking platform. It sizzled and sparked. "Alright, it says we're making a simple grilled salmon filet with a fresh balsamic reduction with a side of steamed asparagus and diced squash coated with our signature lemon splash. Yum-yum!" He hobbled to the cooler and returned with a slab of salmon. He began slicing off pieces of the fish before finally being satisfied with his work, then placing it onto the grill. "Okay, Xiumin, watch that for me. I'll be right back." Xiumin nodded and took careful eyes on the fish, flipping it over when necessary. When the fish was done beautifully, he found a plate and placed the filet on it, not before drizzling the reduction onto the plate in wide, spacious circles all around the plate. He stepped back and admired his work.
Behind him he heard a mix between a gasp and a whistle. "Oh my god. Wow, that looks simply gorgeous, Xiumin. I may have to watch out. You're almost as good as me," praised Kyungsoo. He playfully slapped the elder on the wrist. "Now, we just have to put the veggies on the plate. Fun, fun, fun!" The cook then placed the vegetables neatly next to the fish. He picked up the plate with care and held it up in the air, prancing through the kitchen to Sehun, who was busy poking at Junmyeon about the mole on his neck and how he should get it removed because it's so fucking fugly. As the younger saw Kyungsoo approaching, he ceased his taunting and blew a raspberry in Junmyeon's face, before taking the plate from his hands and passing through the double doors. Kyungsoo clapped his hands twice. "Ah, that's one more beautiful plate that goes unappreciated in this place. How tragic." He wipes away a fake tear before turning to Junmyeon. "Junmyeon, have you ever seen the way Xiumin here decorates a plate? It's amazing."
Junmyeon glanced between the two men, shaking his head. "No, no I haven't actually. I haven't really seen him do anything, to be quite honest with you," the man said with a teasing smile. Xiumin smiled back.
Kyungsoo pouted. "Well, that's too bad. He's really good." He patted Xiumin's head. "I think I want him to work in the kitchen from now on. And, since you seem to not see him doing anything, be sure to see him doing stuff from now on." Junmyeon nodded. In the back of the kitchen, a plate had shattered to the floor, followed by a blood-curdling scream, which was dubbed to be Kiseop's. Kyungsoo placed a hand to his left temple. "Hot damn. Kiseop, stay calm! I'm coming," he shouted. "Bumbling idiot," he muttered as he sauntered his way to the scene.
Junmyeon ruffled Xiumin's hair. "Well, well, well. Look who's been promoted. Congrats, hyung."
"Yeah. I guess. I mean, cooking is a small pleasure of mine, I guess. I didn't think it was good, though," Xiumin said.
"Well, Kyungsoo doesn't just promote anyone. He must have been really impressed with you," Junmyeon replied. "In fact, I think you must have really impressed him."
Xiumin nodded. "Well, let's just see if I can hopefully get through to that brat Sehun so maybe I can get promoted to getting away from him." The kind-faced man laughed at that, soon returning to work.
--
After a while, the whole city had heard about Xiumin's plates. How he had contrasted the lighter shades against the darker shades, and vice versa. How he had perfectly created an illusion of majestic wonders onto one plate, never one looking exactly alike. Kyungsoo raved about his star chef, loving the recognition the restaurant was getting. I don't know how he does it. He's like Michelangelo, except with food! he had said one day when the press had came to his restaurant.
xiumin/kris ; past xiuchen, slight krisyeol bc krisyeol helloooo~
i'm a dumb
this is for my son astrid
she deserves it
kris, a drowsy CEO riding on his father's coattails, and xiumin, a cynical diner owner, cross paths once without noticing and hope to never do it again
Alright, so basically, since I have no life, I decided to write my son Astrid a fic because she's amazing and I love her to pieces even though she is a dumb, but she is a cute dumb.
I have a lot of notes for this story so bare with me:
a.) this is not where the story begins. i will be writing two seperate POVs for both xiumin and kris because they have different pasts and if i put it all together in the story, i won't be done by the certain deadline which is around december. (oops its 2k14 i am stupid)
b.) this setting of this story is in different places. for xiumin, he will start in s. korea, studying abroad in beijing, moving back to s. korea, and then to the united states finally. for kris, he will start in canada, study in beijing as well, and instantly move to america with plenty of little things inbetween
c.) the age groups will mostly be at 17 to around 23. in my knowledge, korea graduates in february (i could be wrong) and xiu's birthday is in march so he graduates around 17 and then finally goes to america around 21-22 ? idk i'm just babbling on. if anyone reads this, i don't want them to be confused at all ok
warnings : angsty, homophobic language, and self-harm and slight harassment. yeah
wow that was a long ass a/n but here we go~
Kim Minseok. That was his name. He was quite handsome and an amazing scholar. He was always the top 100 at his school (being ranked top 50 was something he just couldn't get down) and he wasn't well known, yet wasn't unknown either. He was there, and it was a good thing, in his opinion. No need to stand out for anything and be criticized for every small thing you do, like if you were in a play, and you tripped over a stage prop and landed flat into someone's lap, or fucked up chances to beat the rival high school at a soccer game by not doing the correct play. See? Small things that could be easily avoided if one had just stayed out of everyone's way.
The one thing that one could say he was slightly known for was his relationship with one kid. Just one. He treated everyone the same way; kind, friendly, understanding. That one kid, that one boy, had changed Kim Minseok's view on life forever. Kim Jongdae, the owner of an amazing singing voice that could melt you into the pavement you stood on. That same voice had touched Minseok's heart, and there he had fell in love with the said boy. As he had initially approached Jongdae to praise him for his performance, he left with a flushed face and one thing that he would never forget ever past those luscious lips : "Thanks, cutie." Wink.
Now, it wasn't something big, but to Minseok, the boy who read new books every 2 days, or the boy who had won the school's beauty pageant in primary school for females, that one quote statement was everything, and he held onto it for the next 6 months until the wonderful King Jongdae spoke to him again, this time with a more serious initiative.
"You think I have a nice voice, right?" Jongdae said, plopping down at the desk in front of Minseok's.
Currently, Minseok's face was full of bibimbap (his favorite meal, bless his little heart) so it fell out of his mouth and onto his desk. Jongdae was talking to him, without him having to speak first. It was incredible, as he soon realized that he probably ruined his chances greatly with his poor table manners.
"Yes." Swallow. "Yes, I do. You sound amazing."
Jongdae smiled and with that they became acquaintances, the younger talking the elder into doing things he had never imagined, like drinking himself silly at a bar with Jongdae's friends, Baekhyun and Jonghyun, having to explain to his parents why he came home at 8 in the morning every Saturday and Sunday. Yes, Jongdae had brightened Minseok's life greatly. So greatly, that they had started to see each other intimately, Jongdae being the elder's first in everything: first kiss, first hug, first...you know, even first love. They talked about the future, marriage, adopting children, even if it was suspicious that Jongdae never introduced Minseok to his parents as his boyfriend, only a friend.
None of that mattered to Minseok as he spiraled downhill with every wet trail of kisses that Jongdae would trace on his neck, with every thrust into him, and I love you's lingering in his mind as his nails created crescent shapes into his palms every time he tried to resist the temptation that Jongdae gave him daily. Until that one faithful day.
It was a normal school day. Baekhyun pranced around the couple as usual, holding hands as Jongdae walked the elder to class, said boy blushing profusely.
"Are you guys even listening to me?" Baekhyun chipped, poking at Jongdae's cheek as he whispered sweet nothings into his lover's ear, not knowing that eyes were following his every move, every smile, every peck on the lips by the boy it would hurt the most.
Jongdae came home that same day, hearing that his father had shown up to his school to retrieve school records he had missed the week before. His father had saw everything: the hand-holding, the kisses, the smiles, the love in his son's eyes for a disgusting little runt of a boy who was going to steal everything he had taught to prevent this sort of thing from happening away.
"No son of mine will become some sissy-loving cunt." A strike of a hand against a cheek. "It's an abomination." He grabbed his son and shook the hell out of him, smacking him senseless, causing his phone falling out of his pocket. He let go of the boy's collar to retrieve it, looked once, and threw it at the wall, shattering the screen.
"Get out of my sight," he said. His voice low. "There's more where that came from if you play around with that son of a bitch again." He pushed Jongdae on the ground and kicked him in the ribs, hard. "And if I catch you with him, I'll kill you both and you'll be in hell together."
That was all he needed to say. It was all that mattered.
The phone on the floor with the shattered screen showed him and Minseok, smiling carefree. Too bad it ended way too soon.
--
The next day, Minseok hopped from one foot to the other as he waited for his boyfriend to kiss him on the cheek and walk him to class. Yeah, he was dating a boy 2 years younger than him, but did it matter? He didn't look like a boy who was 2 years younger, and he certainly didn't act like one either, with his sass and his arrogance. It was a good quality for him. But Minseok couldn't stop his feet from running over to Jongdae, who's face was battered, and bandaged.
"Oh my god, baby, are you alright?" Minseok asked, reaching out to touch the bandages across his cheek. Jongdae swatted the elder's hand away and pushed him, making the boy stumble to the ground.
"Just stay away from me, okay?"
Minseok was puzzled. "But, Dae-Dae, you said--"
"I know what I said, and what I said was stay away from me!" Jongdae shouted. Students turned their heads to see the commotion.
The elder finally rose from the ground and stabbed Jongdae in his chest with his finger. "I don't know what's with you, Kim Jongdae, but hopefully you get your act together." He turned on his heel and headed for the school, not expecting the response he got in return.
"I did get my act together and I'm glad I finally see that I shouldn't be with a fat ass fruitcake like you."
The laughter resonated around him and it grew even louder as he tried to keep his tears from falling. How could anyone be so cruel? The whole day, whispers were passed behind his back. Hell,, even in front of his back. Kim Minseok, the boy who once read 2 books every 2 days, and the boy who had won a beauty pageant in primary school for females, had reached his bottom.
The next couple of months had become a routine: wake up, go to school, get called a homo in front of the teachers, who didn't help at all, get hazed on a regular basis, go home, hurry and wash his clothes before his mother suspected anything, and keep a fake smile. It was all he had learned how to do ever since Jongdae has humiliated him like that. He thought about it at night, when he had a somewhat good day, not that many insults flying around, and a test day so no riffraff. Times like that would result in having tear stains on his cheeks when he woke up in the morning. He didn't feel anything at all, only numb. He needed something to feel, anything.
Minseok laid on his side, starting out the window expressionless. There was no exact point in going to school anymore if all he did was get punched in the gut all the time. All of the pain was bottled up and he had no way of getting it out. His mother had always said it was a bad idea to keep things bundled up like that.
He had heard about people releasing frustration in cutting, but could he really bring himself to do that? Had it really come to that point? Minseok bit his lip as he looked out into the hallway of his home. His mother was likely still sleeping, and his father had left for work hours ago. It would be okay if he did it once, right? He could get away with it if he was quiet enough. His pain tolerance was pretty good. He closed the door and locked it, turning on the shower afterwards. Maybe if he sat under the shower head, it wouldn't be so bad. It would just wash right down the drain, like the rest of his hopes and dreams. Scrambling in the drawer, he found straight-away razors his father uses occasionally to get a good, close shave. He placed the razor on the counter top, staring at it as he undressed. He was really going to do this.
He stepped under the spray of water, making sure to wash himself thoroughly before doing the task at hand; his mother always said scrubbing open wounds with soap can risk infection. Once he cleansed himself, he picked the blade and held it at his pinky finger. He at least wanted to feel it. He dragged the blade down the fingerpad, red beads rising immediately. Nothing, he noted. I felt nothing. He pulled at the skin and a red line seeped out of the wound and dripped onto the shower floor. Surely, that wasn't what all the fuss was about.
He moved down to his wrist and dragged it down. Not across the road, down the street, he thought. Blood rose to the surface in beads and slowly ran down his arm, mixing in with the water. Minseok was mesmerized as he watched the crimson stream get swallowed by the drain before a bang was at the door. He jumped.
"Minseok-ah!." It was his mother. "How are you doing in there? You seem a little quiet. You're never this quiet in the bathroom."
Minseok quickly rinsed the blade and hid it underneath the shampoo bottle. He'll find somewhere to hide it later. "Sorry, ma. I'm just a little tired. I didn't go to sleep until late last night."
A moment. "Well, maybe you should go to sleep earlier next time, yeah?"
"Mm-hmm. Yes, ma'am."
"Well, hurry it up. I have to get to work early this morning."
Minseok cut the shower off and remembered the blood. He swiftly grabbed a towel and wrapped himself up, wiping the blood off at the sink.
Never again, he promised. Never.
A year later
After Minseok had graduated from that wretched school (Jongdae had tripped him up going on stage, the nerve of that guy) moving away from the area, or the country, was the best thing he could do. So, he decided to study in China. It was a new start with new faces, and a new language. He could start completely over and forget about the past, and keep the promise he made to himself about not cutting ever again, even though he had broken it two times. He was pretty sure his parents had found out, considering they called him everyday and told him to see a counselor. He always reassured them, saying he was fine, because he was. He was in a dark time and he wasn't doing to do it again. No matter how relaxing it felt.
Residing in Beijing was hard. He didn't have much income so he at least needed a roommate, but with the language barrier, how the hell was he supposed to do that? He had bought a Chinese phrasebook as soon as he landed and used the best of his abilities to find a nice local to let him reside with them until further notice.
His search was complete when he found two young men, Zhang Yixing and Lu Han, who were kind enough to take him in. They also went to the university Minseok was attending and became companions immediately. Lu Han loved to play soccer so him and Minseok played after classes on certain days, even if it was rainy. Something about weather endurance, Lu Han said. He was very nice and was friends with practically everyone in their class because of it. It was hard to believe that him and someone like Yixing, who was shy and quiet, were best friends. Yixing was a guitar player and he often lulled Minseok to sleep every night with his idle strumming night after night.
The three boys soon added another boy after 2 months. His name was Li Jiaheng, but he liked to be called Wufan, or some days Kris. Overall, the guys called him Kris, and he was a weird one from the beginning with all these names. He also had weird nightly rituals where he applied weird creams to his face which made him smell like peppermint and medicine. Other than that, he was a pretty chill guy. Apparently, he was a big shot basketball player in high school, and got all the girls. If only his high school career was like that, Minseok thought. His life would be so set and he wouldn't be sitting in a rundown apartment in China, running away from his fears.
It seemed he couldn't escape them, however, when he got an e-mail from an anonymous source.
You think you can run away but you can't, you pansy freak.
Minseok's breath hitched. The message didn't even have a traceable sender. He typed back.
I'm sorry, but may I ask who this is?
He got a message right back.
Oh, Minseok, you forgot about me already? That's so likely of you.
Instantly, he knew who it was. He closed the browser window and shut down the computer down all together. He had to ask for help from his friends; hopefully they had a solution.
--
Lu Han finished his can of cola before burping out loud. "You should change your identity. That's what I did."
Yixing threw his finished can at the boy. "Lu, that makes no sense."
Lu Han threw the can back at Yixing. "Yes, it does. My name used to be Xiao Lu, but then my parents dropped the Xiao and added a 'Han'. So shut up. You don't know me."
Yixing shook his head in amusement. "Ok, Lu. If you say so."
Lu Han folded his arms. "I do say so," he muttered.
Minseok stood up and went to the center of the room. "Come on guys, this is serious." His sleeve flew back and revealed a bandaid.
Wufan sat forward and narrowed his eyes. "Yo, what is that?" The boy hurriedly pulled down his sleeve and looked to Lu Han for help. Lu Han's eyed widened and nodded his head as he caught the hint.
"Come on, Wufan. Help him out," Lu Han egged on. "What's your suggestion?"
Wufan pondered for a moment before spring out of his seat, wiggling a finger in the air. The three remaining boys looks at one another, as they had never seen the stoic figure do anything remotely close to what he had just pulled.
"Do as what Lu Han did. Change your name. O-or even your whole identity."
With that, the young, ruffled haired boy sat in his China apartment with his Chinese friends looking for a new identity. They went to countless places searching for a new wardrobe, practically forcing him to throw away his prized possessions in order to start anew (like his tattered hoodie he'd had for almost 7 years, or the "lucky" pillow case that smelt like feet and saliva, according to Yixing). Here he was sporting a short, red pixie cut and pierced ears. His clothes were chic and modified (thanks to Lu and Wufan) and his shoes had no holes in them. He barely looked recognizable and it was all thanks to his friends; his real friends.
2 years later
Unfortunately, his journey in Beijing did not last. He had decided to finally go back and face his fears, despite the puppy pouts Lu Han made when he would waddle into the kitchen in the morning, or the aggressive strumming Yixing did late at night instead of his normal melodies, or even the tears Wufan cried in front of him when he was drunk one night. He tried his best to resist them, and he did well, leaving with promises of returning if necessary, and Lu Han's tears on his shoulder. Minseok, I mean Xiumin, showed up at the Incheon airport a brand new person. It wasn't like anyone stayed around here anyway. Last he talked to Baekhyun, he said he was going to finally meet his internet boyfriend Chanyeol, He'd only seen him once, but he looked like a maniac. A cute maniac, but still, a maniac. He wondered how that worked out for him. Baekhyun was the only one who had still talked to him after the Jongdae thing went down.
Xiumin moved into a lowly apartment and applied for a busboy job at a restaurant downtown in Seoul. The head chef, Kyungsoo, was a snippy little thing. All nice with bug-eyed innocence until you fucked up one of his plates and it got sent back to the kitchen. It didn't happen often, more like barely ever, but he still went ape-shit on the cooks behind the doors. Even the tall tan one who was silent all the time and always pinched the boy's butt when he walked past, causing a smirk to paint his face. Obviously, they were fucking, and fucking daily.
He didn't say much to his co-workers, only Good Morning's and Good Night's. It wasn't like he was being rude or anything, he just wasn't looking for friends or even acquaintances this time around. Xiumin wanted to live his life the right way, and without hassle or boyfriends or fake best friends who held your hand when you got stupid, drunk tattoos on your lower back. He hadn't touched a blade in about 10 months and he wasn't going to break his streak because some lousy cook wanted to go get drinks after work.
Too bad he could follow his own prescribed rules, because there he was, wasted, in a dance club. Bright lights flashed throughout the entire room as he began to sway to the music like a tree in the breeze. The crowds of people gyrating and kissing on one another made the room hot and sweaty and Xiumin had almost stripped his entire outfit. Luckily, his co-worker, he later learned his name was Junmyeon, was there to make sure he wasn't completely naked.
After he danced and jumped on Junmyeon a few times, he had started his way home, twirling his jacket in his hand and skipping down the street as he neared his apartment. He hummed a tune he had heard at the club and started to shimmy his hips in front of his door. A couple of footsteps came from the side of him. He looked down the hallway to reveal a dark-hooded figure, leaning deathlessly against the door frame. The only thing that was visible was the mortifying smile that crept onto his lips while he seemingly eyed Xiumin up and down.
Xiumin swayed from side to side before speaking. "H-how may I h-help y-ou?" he slurred.
The figure chuckled. "Oh, little snowflake, it's not what I can do for you. It's what you can do for me." He ran his hands down Xiumin's lithe body, emitting a squeak from the boy. He was too out of it to even comprehend what was even happening. The man continued to feel the poor boy up, taking the keys from his hand and unlocking the door himself. "I think we should continue this inside, don't you think?" Xiumin made a gargling noise, and the man smiled, taking him into the apartment. It wasn't until Junmyeon had reappeared and saw the whole scene.
"Yah, what are you doing?" Junmyeon shouted. He ran over and grabbed the man by his arm, slugging him in the process and making him fall to the ground. "Get out of here, you creep!" The man scrambled to his feet and fled. Junmyeon checked on Xiumin, who was leaning against the door frame, still swaying from side to side. "Xiumin hyung, are you okay?"
Xiumin eyed the worried man and bust out in a fit of giggles. "Are you okay, Junmyeon 'hyung'?"
With that, Junmyeon lead the boy into his apartment, feeling like a frustrated mother with her son, considering the elder would not cooperate in washing his face, or brushing his teeth, or putting on his pyjamas...or getting into the bed.
"Junmyeon, who was that guy?" Xiumin yawned. He sunk lower into his blankets, his eyelids getting heavier every second. "I didn't even know him." One more yawn.
Junmyeon shook his head and twitched his lip. "Don't worry about who it was." He patted the elder on head. "Just know that if it ever happens again, you can call me, alright?"
Xiumin nodded his head weakly and turned over on his side, drifting to sleep.
A few months after that incident had happened, Xiumin had silently vowed himself never to drink again. If Junmyeon hadn't shown up, who knows what would've happened. To show his gratitude, he had been following the latter around 24/7, trying to repay him with promises of cake every Tuesday morning and vouchers to the local market. Junmyeon waved all of that off, claiming "it wasn't necessary". The elder finally let it go after Junmyeon had stopped him while they were walking to the bus stop.
"Hyung, it's okay," Junmyeon reassured. "You don't have to pay me back with anything. We're friends. It's what friends do." Xiumin nodded and looked down at the ground as the bus rolled up to the curb. "Alright. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" The latter nodded as he watched the man board the bus, waving at him through the window. Xiumin waved back and walked to his lonesome apartment.
--
Kyungsoo lined up all of his employees, pacing in front of them with a clipboard in hand. He called each one of his employees off one by one, indicating that they were present.The tall tan one, Xiumin finally found his name, Jongin, blew a few kisses to the latter when he called his name, making his pale cheeks turn crimson, his already doe-like eyes widen. Jongin smiled in triumph afterwards, even after the shorter man hit him upside the head with the clipboard.
"Good evening to all of you. I hope you've all had a blessed day so far but there are some things we need to discuss." Kyungsoo looked down at his clipboard. "Kiseop, you have had several incidents regarding to the way you clean the floors. It seems you have not taken the time to place a wet floor sign around the areas you have mopped, and I do not need a lawsuit on my hands because you can't comprehend that people need to know that there is water on the floor. Do I make myself clear?"
Kiseop bowed. "Yes, sir. It will not happen again."
"Thank you," Kyungsoo concluded. He looked down at the clipboard. "Ah, Jongin. Do you mind switching shifts with Hyosonn? Just for the week. She has this weird thing going on with her sinuses." The tan male opened his mouth to protest. "Great. You can start right now. Well, don't just stand there. Get to it. Snap snap~" Jongin gave an exasperated sigh and slapped his palms on his thighs, then headed towards the kitchen. Kyungsoo chuckled airily, now looking at his clipboard "Ah, he is such a doll. Now, who else did I want to speak with? Ah. Xiumin?"
Xiumin nodded and stepped forward. "Um, yes?"
Kyungsoo smiled warmly and hopped over the elder. "You will be working under me from now on. Is that alright with you?" Xiumin started to respond. "Wonderful. Just go into the kitchen and I'll be right there in a moment. Thank you." Xiumin nodded and walked towards the kitchen doors. "Alright, now, will someone please tell me who was the one who put the peppers in the sauce the other day? Do you know how many complaints I got from that?" A bundle of voices overlapped one another before the doors closed behind him.
Xiumin stood by the sink as he waited for Kyungsoo to come, watching as Jongin and some pale kid with a lisp argue about who was going to take the table with the hot babe or whatever. Like it really mattered. They were lowlife kids anyway, trying to make ends meet by working at a restaurant to pay for student loans or whatever they did. They'd be lucky if she even looked at them, Xiumin thought.
Kyungsoo stormed into the kitchen, looking around frantically. "Okay, let's get this show on the road." He clapped his hands and looked over to the kids quarreling. "Sehun and Jongin, I'm pretty sure that the girl you're arguing about wouldn't ever give you the time of day. I'm sure Xiumin agrees with me? Right?"
The boy stammered. "I-I, j-ust...not necessarily."
Sehun looked over and folded his arms. "Well, who cares about your opinion anyway," the boy muttered.
"Well, if you two want to lose your number one source of income,, I suggest you get to work," Kyungsoo said. He turned to Xiumin. "You. Follow me." He began walked to the other side of the kitchen with Xiumin following right behind him.
Weaving through the kitchen, Kyungsoo continued to talk. "Alright, Xiumin, have you ever cooked anything in your life?"
Xiumin nodded while maneuvering past a man with a hot plate in both of his hands. "Uh, yeah, kinda-sorta."
"Awesome. 'Kinda-sorta' is what we need from you right now," Kyungsoo chirped. They ended up at the grill. "Do you feel comfortable being my sous-chef or do you want to go back to picking up people's half-eaten meals?"
Xiumin nodded. "Um, yeah, sure, I'll be your sous-chef." To be honest, he didn't even know what that meant. But, hey, the more you know.
"Great. Now hand me the cooking oil," Kyungsoo said. Xiumin blinked at him. "Hand me the squirty-bottle, right over there." The elder did what he was told.
Kyungsoo sprayed the oil all over the the cooking platform. It sizzled and sparked. "Alright, it says we're making a simple grilled salmon filet with a fresh balsamic reduction with a side of steamed asparagus and diced squash coated with our signature lemon splash. Yum-yum!" He hobbled to the cooler and returned with a slab of salmon. He began slicing off pieces of the fish before finally being satisfied with his work, then placing it onto the grill. "Okay, Xiumin, watch that for me. I'll be right back." Xiumin nodded and took careful eyes on the fish, flipping it over when necessary. When the fish was done beautifully, he found a plate and placed the filet on it, not before drizzling the reduction onto the plate in wide, spacious circles all around the plate. He stepped back and admired his work.
Behind him he heard a mix between a gasp and a whistle. "Oh my god. Wow, that looks simply gorgeous, Xiumin. I may have to watch out. You're almost as good as me," praised Kyungsoo. He playfully slapped the elder on the wrist. "Now, we just have to put the veggies on the plate. Fun, fun, fun!" The cook then placed the vegetables neatly next to the fish. He picked up the plate with care and held it up in the air, prancing through the kitchen to Sehun, who was busy poking at Junmyeon about the mole on his neck and how he should get it removed because it's so fucking fugly. As the younger saw Kyungsoo approaching, he ceased his taunting and blew a raspberry in Junmyeon's face, before taking the plate from his hands and passing through the double doors. Kyungsoo clapped his hands twice. "Ah, that's one more beautiful plate that goes unappreciated in this place. How tragic." He wipes away a fake tear before turning to Junmyeon. "Junmyeon, have you ever seen the way Xiumin here decorates a plate? It's amazing."
Junmyeon glanced between the two men, shaking his head. "No, no I haven't actually. I haven't really seen him do anything, to be quite honest with you," the man said with a teasing smile. Xiumin smiled back.
Kyungsoo pouted. "Well, that's too bad. He's really good." He patted Xiumin's head. "I think I want him to work in the kitchen from now on. And, since you seem to not see him doing anything, be sure to see him doing stuff from now on." Junmyeon nodded. In the back of the kitchen, a plate had shattered to the floor, followed by a blood-curdling scream, which was dubbed to be Kiseop's. Kyungsoo placed a hand to his left temple. "Hot damn. Kiseop, stay calm! I'm coming," he shouted. "Bumbling idiot," he muttered as he sauntered his way to the scene.
Junmyeon ruffled Xiumin's hair. "Well, well, well. Look who's been promoted. Congrats, hyung."
"Yeah. I guess. I mean, cooking is a small pleasure of mine, I guess. I didn't think it was good, though," Xiumin said.
"Well, Kyungsoo doesn't just promote anyone. He must have been really impressed with you," Junmyeon replied. "In fact, I think you must have really impressed him."
Xiumin nodded. "Well, let's just see if I can hopefully get through to that brat Sehun so maybe I can get promoted to getting away from him." The kind-faced man laughed at that, soon returning to work.
--
After a while, the whole city had heard about Xiumin's plates. How he had contrasted the lighter shades against the darker shades, and vice versa. How he had perfectly created an illusion of majestic wonders onto one plate, never one looking exactly alike. Kyungsoo raved about his star chef, loving the recognition the restaurant was getting. I don't know how he does it. He's like Michelangelo, except with food! he had said one day when the press had came to his restaurant.