Chapter Text
Kinn is eighteen years old the first time he realizes that life isn’t fair.
He’s barely an adult when he becomes the sole provider for his two brothers.
Tankhun is older, he’s already twenty and to Kinn, the world of adults seems so far out of his grasp, but Tankhun isn’t all there mentally. Sometimes, on the good days, he can sit in the garden and help Kim with his homework, but that’s it. Getting a job is out of the question and Kinn knows that, he doesn’t begrudge his brother anything, it’s not Tankhun’s fault that any of this is happening.
Kim has just turned thirteen and all of his emotions are too big for his body, even though he’s growing like a weed and getting taller, what feels like, every day. Kinn tries not to resent his baby brother, because neither of them expected that Kinn would have to become a father figure to him. Kinn was supposed to just be annoyed at all his teen angst and Kim was supposed to pretend he hated his older brother even though he secretly thought Kinn was the coolest person in the world. But instead, Kim has nightmares about the accident and climbs into Kinn’s bed at night and Kinn holds him against his chest and tells him that everything is going to be okay.
Kinn is twenty the second time he realizes that life isn’t fair. Their uncle, Gun, had promised to help and Kinn had stupidly believed him.
But then, he found out that the bastard had a gambling addiction and was throwing away the money that Kinn slaved away to earn and the money they got from their parents life insurance in casinos. Vegas begged for forgiveness and brought an envelope of cash that he had worked his ass off to get, just to try and pay back a fraction of what his father had lost.
For so long, Vegas had been the only friend he had, and they understood each other.
While Vegas’s father was very much alive, he was also very much a deadbeat, meaning Vegas looked after Macau however he could while their dad was off getting wasted and bleeding money in some bar.
After that, Vegas mostly cut his father off from their finances, and he and Kinn could sort of share the burden.
Kinn is twenty-three the first time he realizes that life isn’t fair and there’s nothing he can do about it.
He got a gig bartending, which worked wonders for the budget.
Thanks to what he made in tips, he could finally afford to buy Kim a new school uniform. Kim knew that money was tight, so he never complained about outgrowing his clothes, or wearing out his shoes. And Kinn was grateful, he really was, because some days his patience could be short and his temper even shorter. But he hated the fact that his little brother, who had just turned eighteen, couldn’t do things normal teenagers could, like complain to their parents about how they couldn’t keep up with the latest trends, or beg for all kinds of fancy expensive shit that Kinn knew Kim wanted. He had seen him marveling at the expensive, pretty guitars that they sold in stores that people like them couldn’t even dream of stepping foot into, but he never asked for anything.
For his birthday this year, Kinn and Vegas pooled what little money they could and bought him a ukulele, from a second-hand store. It wasn’t all the glamor and wonder he wanted his baby brother to have, but Kim’s face lit up anyways and he hugged them both with a fierceness and Kinn could feel the love in the gesture.
So, yeah, Kinn hated working all the odd jobs, but Kim’s face when he got the ukulele, and Tankhun’s delighted rambling when he got the DVD’s of what were the latest dramas three years ago made it all worth it.
What didn’t make it worth it was all the rich, mafia assholes who paraded around like they owned the place. Usually, Kinn would assume that they wouldn’t be caught dead on this side of the city, but hey, what did he know, maybe it was more covert.
He had kept his head down as he walked in, holding back a scoff at the fact that one of them had their feet up on the table.
He placed the drinks down and, trust these rich assholes to act like staff doesn’t even exist, because they kept talking.
“- So, staging a strike mission on the minor family seems like the best option,” The guy with his feet up on the coffee table said.
Kinn tried, and failed, not to snort at that.
He can feel every gaze in the room falling onto him and he mentally cursed. He profusely apologized for leaving Vegas with two extra dependents after his death.
“Is something funny?” The man asked.
Kinn raised his eyes and finally looked at the man.
He’s breathtaking.
A deep, wine red, silk shirt, barely buttoned over his stomach, accents a smooth expanse of warm, tanned skin that almost looked golden under the neon club lights. His eyes, while the softest, most beautiful brown Kinn had ever seen, were sharp, watching his every move, roving over him. Deep, brown hair that was almost black was slicked back off the man’s forehead, with a few strands falling forward, however, Kinn was sure that was an artistic choice.
“No, uh, no sir,” Kinn managed.
“Really?” The man smiled, although it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Because it sounds like you thought something was funny.”
Kinn shook his head.
“Please, enlighten me,” The man purred, sliding his feet off of the coffee table and leaning back, tilting his head back against the back of the couch, all the while keeping his gaze on Kinn. “A penny for your thoughts, gorgeous.”
Kinn would regret this, but he couldn’t stop himself.
He was tired of jerks like this thinking they could boss him around.
“My thoughts cost more than a penny.” He snapped.
Those pretty, brown eyes widened in shock.
The man laughed.
“How much then?” He said, unable to stop the smile from returning to his face.
It was a little closer to his eyes this time.
Kinn’s plan was to name an amount so outrageous the man would just tell him to get the hell out.
“Fifty-thousand.”
There’s a strangled noise from one of the man’s companions, but the man silenced him with a glare.
He slid a watch off of his wrist that merely looked like it would be more expensive than anything Kinn could afford in a year.
He held it out and, when Kinn didn’t take it, stood, took his hand, and placed the watch in it.
The man raised his eyebrow expectantly.
Kinn barely managed to stammer out, “A spy. If you suspect they’re up to something, you should plant a spy. They’ll catch wind of a strike and clean everything up before you get there.”
Then, he dashed out of the room.
The metal of the watch felt warm in his palm.