▪️runaways → nct jaemin fanfic

01 ✧ 정호석

Jung Hoseok's POV

I glanced up at the clock on the wall. 9am. The boss had asked to see me today, and I can take a pretty good guess why. I rubbed my eyes hastily before placing my hand on the door handle to the main office, pushing down and making my way inside.

"Mr. Jung, you're here." The man gestured for me to take a seat in front of him, and I did so, my head low. "I am sure you are aware as of why I asked you to come here today?"
"Yes sir." I mumbled, head low with guilt. I felt like a child back in school again. Infantilised.

"Now, I know you're good at your job." He began. "You're amazing with the kids; you form some kind of bond with them which makes them love you, but-" he took a small breath. "I've already given you a chance to sort yourself out, but you haven't." He then leant forward in his seat, as I looked up to meet his eye. "There's not much more I can do Mr. Jung."

"I understand." I replied. "I guess I'm still coming to terms with... everything that happened. Every time I try to stop it just calls me back. I suppose it's like my coping method."
"Hmm," He sighed in understanding. "A very bad one too considering where you work."

"I can try something else..." I suggested. "If I could have one more chance-"
"I really want to give you another chance." He butted in. "But you know I've already given you one. I have to draw the line somewhere."
"I just don't know where I'd go." I retorted, feeling more regretful than ever. "This job is my life. I live here, I live for these kids. I don't know what I'd do without them."

Mr. Han - my boss - sat in silence, contemplating what I'd said, before speaking up.
"Do you mind telling me how it all started?" He asked. "If you want, we can start right from the very beginning?" We made eye contact again for a second, and I nodded my head slowly.

"Okay then..." I mumbled. "Well..."

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Funnily enough, my story begins where it unsurprisingly ends - at the orphanage.

One day 13 years ago I was making my way through reception when Kyungja stopped me in my tracks.
"Hoseok, look over there." The middle aged woman discreetly pointed over towards one of the people sat on the waiting seats. It was a guy who looked about my age, and looked extremely rich.

"Who is that?" I asked her.
"His name his Park Jimin." She whispered. "His father is a multimillionaire."
"Him!?" I whisper-yelled. "Isn't he the kid that got sent to a mental asylum?"
"Yep." She sighed.
"What's a kid like that doing here?" I muttered, making sure I didn't look too suspicious.

"Who knows," Kyungja shrugged. "Maybe he's looking to adopt."
"I hope not." I replied. "He doesn't strike me as the fatherly type, and I wouldn't want to give one of my kids away to someone like him."
"Tch, 'my kids', you sound like a mother." Kyungja laughed, causing me to chuckle myself.

"Did you hear the rumours about why he was sent there?" She whispered to me, and I nodded my head.
"He left his ex-girlfriend to die in a burning building." I told her, and she nodded. "Do you know if she ever got out?"
"I think she did." She replied. "But I'm not too sure."

"Mr. Park, can you please come in?" Miss. Kim called from one of the interview rooms. He looked up at her, standing from his seat and making his way in.
"Do you have anywhere you need to be?" Kyungja asked me.
"Not right now." I replied. "All the kids are at school."
"Stick around and see what happens." She asked, but sounded more like an order, to which I complied.

It's not everyday a rich kid like him comes here.

It was quiet for a while, and in the meantime me and Kyungja bitched about the milkman being late on his deliveries and the kids we thought were mischievous. You know, stereotypical female gossip and such. Until we heard loud voices come from the room.