6. Hitting Rock Bottom

SURPRISEEE !!

We will get another POV and no other than sweet little kitten Yoongi!!!

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Yoongi POV

His clothes were drenched from head to toe, his dark hair sticking to his forehead in thick strands as he dragged his exhausted body through the streets. It was past one in the morning but he might actually consider that early these days. None of his co-workers at J-Joen's knew that Yoongi always left the company on time, simply because he had to go to his part-time job at the postal office, sorting boxes after boxes and running through the massive warehouse to store them alphabetically for next days delivery. 

His back was aching from the heavy lifting, his hands raw from carrying the rough cardboard and unwrapping them from the massive pile they were delivered in and his feet hurt from all the running. And then, the little Italian guy who ran the post-office kindly informed him they were letting him go because they found someone cheaper and more flexible. And with kindly informed, Yoongi meant that the man had simply thrown him out and told him he didn't have to bother coming back. 

And now, to top it all off, it was raining cats and dogs. Great! He didn't own a car, or even a bike, so he depended on subways and busses, but the closest stop from his house was still a ten minute walk. 

He finally reached the fifteen story bunker house and unlocked the door.And then he groaned and he got ready for the ascend. Twelve floors up, since the elevator was still under repair- since two months now! 

And even in a shit part of town like this and with barely half the stuff working, rent was a horror.He groaned and rubbed his forehead when he though about how to go on without the extra money from his part-time job. 

No one of his co-workers knew about his money problems, not even Jimin, who he considered his best friend- well, his only friend, even though the boy didn't know that. 

How often had the younger asked him to hang out with him and his friends? How often had he made up excuses because he had to work and didn't have the time or the money to go out and have fun?

He was ashamed. 

He worked for one of the top brands as an accounted of a marketing team and still had to live in a shit place like this and wreck his body for some additional cents. 

He didn't like blaming his parents. It wasn't right to talk bad about the dead, but they could have at least not left him with a massive amount of debt if they had to leave him at all. 

He had barely turned thirteen when his parents died in a car crash. And though his grandparents had taken him in and raised him with love and support, they had been poor as well. And now both of them were in need of care, so it only meant more money to put aside to help them out and pay for their caretaker. 

His breath was coming out in huffs and his lungs burning as he finally reached his door, his body and mind exhausted. And yet he knew, it wasn't over yet. He still had to go over the finances for the upcoming winter collection. Jimin would never pressure him beyond what he could take, but he knew his team leader depended on him- trusted him to do his work. And he knew there was something bothering him as of late and he didn't want to add to his problems.

"What the-"

His voice ebbed away as he noticed the red paper taped across his door. He'd been so exhausted, he hadn't noticed it. 

He ripped it off and stared at the words, then let out a snappy shout, the sound echoing through the hallway.

Shit. Fuck. He was so screwed. It was a notice of eviction because he had failed to pay rent again. But he thought he had cleared it with the land lord...He crumbled the paper in anger. He knew he couldn't trust him. 

Shit. He inserted the key- 

It didn't unlock. They changed the locks. Doubled shit. 

A hysterical laugh, mixed with a sob escaped him as he leaned his back against the door and sunk to the floor. What was he supposed to do now? Sleep in the hallway?Travel all the way to Jeju Island to visit his grandparents and stay with them? But then he would loose his main job as well, the only income he had now. 

He knew there was only one place he could go. Only one person he would dare ask for help, even if his shame would burn right through him. 

Slowly he got up, his muscles screaming in protest. And then he descended the stairs again- all three-hundred-and sixty-seven of them.

--------------◀ ▶--------------Instead of memes, check out these absolutely mind-blowing fan-edits. Such talented, amazing ARMYs, I absolutely love them!

AAAND THIS ONE IS MY OWN :D

By far not as good as others, but I love editing and painting 😁😁