Chapter Text
(Recent edit: I had changed the POV to third person POV...)
Adrenaline pumped through his veins as he swung his fist in a right hook straight into the opponent's torso. Skillfully, he dodged the other's retaliation, using his outstretched arm as an advantage as he twisted it back, earning a groan from the opponent. However, the man soon broke free, managing to land a punch on his face. Despite the injury, he didn't let my guard down and fought back.
The fight ended up with the opponent on the ground, defeated. He wasn't dead. His body was slammed on the ground and was kept it there till a referee deemed it fit that the opponent lost.
The referee, who happened to be a friend by the name of Seungcheol, stepped into the makeshift fighting ring, grabbing the winner's hand and lifting it over their heads. "As expected, our winner, Kim Mingyu!" The crowd surrounding cheered.
There were some people at the corners who gathered to pay their bet. Some had wide, satisfied smiles on their faces, while others looked dejected.
Either way, Seungcheol handed Mingyu an envelope. "For this week's win. If you continued this way, you'd be winning the finals for each week, you overgrown teenager." He chuckled, patting Mingyu on the head.
"Thanks, Hyung," The younger grinned, tucking the envelope into his old, ragged bag.
"It's no problem. I may have slipped some extra money in there for you. You know you can always come to me for help, right?" Seungcheol asked worriedly.
"Hyung, I've told you. I don't want to live off of you even though you're my friend. I'm going to find a proper job to earn money soon. I'll be fine." Mingyu offered him an assuring smile.
"Whatever you say, Mingyu."
*
The Underground.
That was the name of this place. A place where people come and fight while the onlookers placed their bets on who would win.
Choi Seungcheol was the third son of multi-billionairre Choi Jinhyuk, Chairman of CP Enterprise, a well-known company with over 100 bases around the globe. His oldest brother, Choi Seunghyun, was the current CEO of the company. Seungcheol was only 20, and was still incompetent to join the business. So as of that moment, he had taken full advantage of his family's wealth to start an underground fighting rink. He had always loved watching wrestling matches and of the sorts, so what better way than to create one of his own?
Mingyu had come upon the place around two years ago, after he had ran away from home and wandered around the streets mindlessly. While he was walking past a bar, there were a few men talking about fighting for money, and that they were going there soon. Of course, money was an issue for the young boy at the time, so he followed them to the abandoned warehouse. He had thought that he could probably make some money there, since normal job employers didn't want to take in a fifteen-year-old boy who wouldn't say anything about his family background. Furthermore, back when Mingyu hadn't ran away, he had toughened himself up, so it could probably be an advantage for him.
He did that so as to lessen the blows from the abuse going on back then.
To him only, anyway.
It was there that Mingyu first met Seungcheol who was unexpectedly goofy despite his masculine appearance. They had both become good friends along the way and he had helped the younger during his most difficult times when he had no money. Mingyu was forever grateful for him and his generosity, and swore to pay him back once he found a job on my own.
*
Mingyu swung his bag across the room, letting it land near the mattress. Lying down, he ran his fingers across his sweaty hair and sighed tiredly.
This week had taken a toll on the boy. The men that he had fought were much tougher. His mind flashed towards the time when he had almost lost to a certain guy. This man had started frequenting The Underground just a few weeks ago, and was probably not much older than Mingyu. Despite seeing him from time to time, he had never conversed with anyone before. The fact that intrigued Mingyu, however, was that he did not look defeated or upset when he lost. It got him thinking if the people who went there to fight didn't want the money, but just wanted to vent their anger out.
It scared Mingyu, if he were to be honest. He knew he was putting himself at risk by fighting. There were people who had anger issues that would fuel them up even more to the point where even if they had won, they would not just stop throwing punches.
Mingyu would know that very well, for he knew that through experience.
He considered taking a break from fighting the following week, but knew that he was still short of money for the rent of his small rooftop house. It was due very soon.
Each week, there could only be one winner in The Underground. On weekday nights, peopple who had joined would fight to get to the finals that would take place during the weekends. Since not everyone would win the small prize money, people had started bets instead. For these past three weeks, Mingyu had won consecutively, much to others' chagrin.
Together with the money Seungcheol had added into his prize winnings, Mingyu was able to afford proper meals and pay his last month's rents on time. However, he was now back to square one as he had gone for his monthly grocery trip, and was only left with a third of what he had.
Despite being tired, he decided that he would fight for next week's round. He closed my eyes, letting the fatigue take over as he was pulled into a slumber.
"Please, spare me! I'm sorry, Dad. I'll do better for my next exam—"
The sound of his face being slapped resounded across the room. The force was enough to whip the boy's head to the side. Tears rolled down his reddened cheeks as he kneeled at his dad's feet and begged him to give him a chance. A scoff could be heard.
"Shut your damn mouth, you insolent child! I provided you a home and paid for your school, yet you can't even get an A? What a joke."
" Spare me, Dad. Please give another chance. I'll do my best in the next one! I know I made a mistake. Please give me another chance..."
The young boy looked towards his mom pleadingly. She shook her head. "Why can't you just be like your siblings? They're smart and even get good grades," she spoke menacingly.
He then fe lt a kick towards his stomach and fell back. Grabbing him by his thin wrist, he pulled the boy roughly towards the basement. He thrashed around in his father's grasp, and then heard him call for the boy's brother. The grip around his wrists and arms were painful as they continued dragging him down to the dimly lit room.
No, please don't.
He was shoved on the cold, concrete ground, his head bumping on it painfully. Looking up, he watched with horror as his dad picked up his golf club he had kept there.
The man, face laced with no other emotion but contempt, brought it up over his head and swung it down towards the boy's back—
Mingyu sat up with a start. Beads of perspiration trickled down his face. He shook my head. Just a bad dream. I'm no longer there.
He brought a shaky hand to his face, wiping down. Looking at the clock, Mingyu realised that it was already Monday morning. He got up and headed for the bathroom to take a shower and get ready for the day.
Pulling on a plain black shirt with a pair of ripped jeans, he grabbed his bag and headed out, in search for job vacancies.
*
Biting into his $2 chicken burger, Mingyu sat at a nearby bench in the park. After hours of walking and entering shops with job signs like Salesperson Wanted or Looking for a waiter, he was still rejected each time. More often than not, the employers who interviewed would suddenly say that they apparently didn't need a waiter anymore, once they found out he had dropped out of highschool and wouldn't tell them anything about his home status.
It was getting absolutely frustrating, to the point where— for one millisecond— Mingyu had actually genuinely considered being a stripper.
That wouldn't bode well for him.
He slumped on the bench, letting himself rest as he watched his surroundings. There were people exercising and jogging around, and some were walking or playing with their dogs. He eyed a family with young children having a picnic.
Mingyu wondered what that felt like.
What would it feel like, having a picnic happily with his family, eating homemade sandwiches from his mom? What would it feel like, to run around in the park playing ball with his dad? What would it feel like, feeling loved?
Deciding that he shouldn't make himself depressed even more, he looked away. He stared mindlessly in front of him, chewing his burger, when the sight of someone familiar caught his attention.
The man was jogging, wearing a black Adidas tracksuit. It made his appearance even dull, with his raven hair. His eyes were as emotionless as ever as he slowed down to a walk, taking a break at a bench
Which just so happened to be across from Mingyu.
Mingyu watched as the man took a swig of water from his bottle, calming his breathing. His hair was matted down on his forehead that made him look— dare he say it— really hot. He might have been staring for too long, as the man suddenly looked towards him.
Wondering if the man recognised him, he offered a smile, waving.
To which he continued staring.
It almost got Mingyu thinking that the man probably really didn't recognised him at all, or maybe he didn't want to deal with anyone, if it weren't for the fact that the man then responded with a curt nod. Mingyu took that as a chance to walk over, taking a seat next to him. The man scooted slightly away from Mingyu.
"Hey, you remembered me, don't you? We fought at The Underground once, and you know, I won," Mingyu started cheerfully.
The other leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. He acted as though the younger didn't just talk to him.
"I'm pretty sure you do remember me," Mingyu continued. "I mean, not to brag or anything, I did beat your ass badly—"
"What do you want?" He suddenly asked, and it was then Mingyu realised just how soothingly deep his voice was. It was the first time he had heard him talk. The man turned to him, sharp eyes piercing his. Mingyu almost lost his train of thoughts.
"Just wanted to say hi, since we kinda see each other often," the younger responded, blinking.
"Yeah, you've said your hello, now bye." He stood up quickly, but all of a sudden, he fell back on the bench as he brought a hand to his head.
In reflex, Mingyu'a hands suddenly shot out to steady the man by the shoulders. "Woah, are you okay?"
He nodded wordlessly, shrugging off Mingyu's hands. Slowly, he stood back up.
"You were jogging when you're ill?" Mingyu asked in disbelief.
"Mind your own business, kid," he said, annoyed. With that, he walked off.
Mingyu shook his head, not bothering to retaliate. This rude asshole.
Looking at the time on his watch, he decided that he should just head for The Underground. It was almost time for first rounds to start. Disposing his burger wrapper, he set off.