coffee art | bang chan ff.

Chapter 2

TW: SH & ABUSE

Y/N P.O.V

I walk up to my front door, reaching to open it but stopping when I see my shaking hands. I take a deep breath and finally open the door and walk inside my so-called "home". I quickly walk to my room, trying to avoid any arguments with my family. I close the door and place my stuff down on my bed when my father comes into my room, drunk of course.

"Y/N, why didn't you do the chores I told you to do?!" my father was able to blurt out at me. I turned to him, noticing that he was drunk, like always.

"I did them yesterday, and I just got home." I calmly explain to him, making sure to have zero feeling in my voice so he doesn't get mad but it doesn't work. He walks up to me and grabs me by the wrist as I quietly wince in pain. He gets closer to me while I try to look away. He reeks of alcohol. He pushes me and I hit the floor with a thud, giving up and just sitting there.

"Maybe next time, you won't talk back and just do as I say." He says while exiting my room and closing the door with a force that makes me flinch. I get up off the ground and look down at my sleeves. I roll one up and see that my father opened up one of my cuts again. I walk over to my white wooden desk and open the bottom drawer, reluctantly grabbing my razor blade and closing it again. I make large incisions on the places that aren't already covered in them. I opened the drawer again and threw the bloody razor blade back into it and shutting with force. I pull down my sleeve and walk over to my bed again, this time laying on it and falling asleep.

_________

My father walks up to me and punches me straight in my face, knocking my breath out of me. "Did you really think you deserve to live a good life? After what you've done?" he laughs at me. "You're pathetic. You don't deserve anything." he slaps me in the face, knocking me back.

"I... I haven't done anything to you..." I whisper, mustering up the courage to finally talk back to him. "You're just a sad old man taking it out on me. A child." he's visibly shocked at what I said to him. In the next few seconds, I automatically regret ever uttering anything to him. He pushes me onto the ground, crouching down to look at my pathetic figure just sitting there, not even trying to fight back. He continues to look at me with evil in his eyes.

"You're just a burden Y/N." he has a crazy look on his face. His eyes are wide, eyebrows raised, and an evil smile on his stupid face. "I hope you die. You're absolutely nothing to everyone, you know that right?" he laughs in my face, his spit landing on me. My eyes start to water and my nose starts to hurt as if I've been hit in the nose with a basketball.

"No," I say, my voice shaking as well as my whole body. "No. People care about me." I scream, trying to cry out to someone for help but no response... only my fathers' remarks.

"No, they don't. No one would care if you just dropped dead." he says to me, leaning closer and closer with each sentence. I stay silent, knowing I've never had a strong enough bond for anyone to really notice if I wasn't there. "See. Even you know it." my father says, standing up and kicking me in the stomach before walking away. I lay on the floor, holding my stomach, crying silently.

_________

I wake up with a gasp, looking around at my surroundings. Realizing it was a dream, I sit up and cross my legs under me. I start to cry silently, trying not to wake my father. I wish to get out of here more than anything but I can't help but have the feeling to desperately try to fix our relationship. I just know it will never work. I look at the clock, realizing it's 7 A.M and quickly get out of my bed. I run into my bathroom, shutting the door behind me, and change into my school uniform. It's a dark blue blazer and skirt set with a white button-up shirt with a dark blue tie. I quickly do my makeup, making sure to cover the purple spots on my face, neck, and legs where my bruises are.

I quickly grab my things and make my way out of my house, making sure to be extra quiet so I don't have to use more makeup to cover bruises. I run down my street and run into the empty, deserted-looking coffee shop that I promised to visit more often now. Immediately, I see Chan setting up for the day behind the counter. He bends down to get something out of the bottom drawers. I tip-toe my way to the counters and wait for him to stand up straight again. "Hi Y/N." he says, still crouched down.

"How did you know I was here?!" I ask, obviously impressed. He stands up straight and laughs, putting a stack of cups on the counter that was in his hands, and then looks at me, leaning on the counter.

"I'm spiderman." his moon-crescent eyes showing once again. I scoff at his childish response.

"Okay, sure." I laugh as he presses buttons on the little tablet in front of him. I pull out my card from my purse and place it in his hands.

"How are you?" he asks, smiling while inserting the card into the machine before him. He looks up at me and I give him a small, fake smile.

"I'm good." I lie, not making eye contact with him. He takes out my card and places it back into my hands with the receipt.

"You don't sound too good." he says, taking a cup from the stack he just pulled out. "What's wrong?" he walks over to the coffee machine and places the cut under one of the options, pulling down the lever, filling the cup slowly with coffee.

I look at him and he's smiling at me. "No, I'm good." I try to reassure him, but thankfully he doesn't ask any further. Instead, he just hums in response. "But how are you?" I ask him as he moves over to do the shrek foam art ontop of my coffee.

"Same old, same old." he laughs and I look down. "But it's been better because of you." he whispers, smiling to himself.

"What?"

"I coughed."

"Oh."

He picks up my coffee and hands it to me, as well as napkins. "Will you be able to come to my house today?" he smiles, eyes shining.

"As long as you don't murder me or kidnap me." I look up and make eye contact with him, his face looking very disappointed.

"Seriously? For the last time, I'm not like that!" he says, raising his hands to both sides of his head and I flinch, spilling a little of my coffee on me. He pauses, and it falls silent. "Y/N..? I'm sorry, but why did you flinch like that?" he asks as he bends down and walks out from behind the counter with napkins and wet wipes.

"My friends joke with me like that." I lie, laughing. He gives me a look of disbelief. He walks over to a table behind me and pulls out a chair for me.

"Sit down so I can help you." he says, signaling for me to sit down. I place my coffee on the counter and walk to the table, sitting down in the chair he had pulled out. Chan crouches down to my level and pulls out a wet wipe and starts to carefully wipe the coffee off of my shirt that was stained on my collarbone.

I take a moment to take in his features. He has a natural milk tan type of skin tone and freckles that aren't very noticeable. He has plump lips that look like they've been picked at a lot, just like mine. His big puppy eyes are strongly focused on trying to get out the stain on my shirt. His nose perfectly complimented his other features. I'm snapped out of my trance when Chan talks to me again. "I'm sorry, I can't get it out very much. Let me buy you a new one okay?" he says, standing up with an apologetic look on his face.

"Oh, it's okay." I say, smiling even though I'll probably be laughed at at school for it. I stand up, walk back over to the counter, and take my coffee again, finally taking a drink out of it.

"I'll give you the new shirt when you come over today. That's if you're able to." he says, smiling at me.

"Can I come after school? At 4 P.M?" I ask, making eye contact with him while he smiles in return.

"Sure! I'll text you the address after my shift." he says. "Anyways, I have to get back to work now, sorry again." he says, with an apologetic look again.

I laugh at the cute look on his face, "No, it's okay! I also have to go, bye!" I say smiling at him while turning to leave.

"Bye Y/N!" he says while walking back behind the counter again.

TO BE CONTINUED