Chapter Text
“Goddammit Brian!”
He lowered his head. Did he deserve to be yelled at yet again for cussing out a customer? Yes. Did he want to suffer through it? Hell no. He didn’t care what Wonpil said about their supervisor being super nice--Sungjin was scary as hell when angry, and he was always angry with Younghyun.
“Are you a moron?”
Yes.
“No...”
“Then tell me why, in all that is holy and good in the world, you decided to swear at yet another customer?”
“Look, it was an accident...”
It wasn’t. That lady was a bitch.
“Accident my ass!” Sungjin must be really pissed if he was swearing. “You called the lady an old hag from hell! I should be firing you!”
“No nononono please don’t I promise it won’t happen again ok pleease!”
As much as Younghyun hated his job, he needed something on his resume in order to apply for internships and on-the-job training programs. At this point, Younghyun wasn’t even doing this for the money--his grandparents/legal guardians paid for all his tuition--he just needed experience. During the day he was a college student, taking as many classes as he could to finish his Master’s, so he didn’t have time for a day job. Instead, he worked nights at the call center. It was mostly dead during the later hours, enough so that Younghyun could study and take naps without any problems. It was during the start of night shifts, during the evenings, that Younghyun got a lot of shit. Most of the callers have just gotten off of work and are cranky as hell, taking out all their frustration out on Younghyun. And Younghyun doesn’t react well to being yelled at.
He’s been told he has a “too hot temper” and is “easily defensive,” which he doesn’t see (he’s just in denial). He can’t do paperwork at all, he’s disorganized, easily distracted, and is even worse at talking in person, so phones it is. He hates his job, but there are very few entry-level jobs he can actually handle. He was fired from McDonalds for a streak of getting frustrated with customers. Mc-fucking-Donalds. So yeah. He doesn't do service careers.
Yet, the one thing Younghyun is good at, is listening to people. Too many times had Sungjin come into his cubicle and ranted about whatever HR problems he was dealing with (usually involving Jae, the incorrigible assistant manager). Younghyun can listen patiently and actually give solid advice. It’s probably the only reason he hasn’t been fired yet. So, it comes to no one’s surprise that he is in graduate school studying Counseling Psychology, working on getting his Master’s Degree to become a therapist.
Really, Younghyun is good at helping people with their problems, just not in a customer service atmosphere. He hates groveling and licking people’s boots. Honestly, he has no clue how Wonpil can be so nice and happy while a customer cusses him out. The kid’s a literal angel made of sunshine and rainbows; Younghyun loves him to death.He was still wrong about Sungjin not being scary, though.
Sungjin gave him one last glare and knock upside the head before going back to his office, slamming his door so hard he woke Jae up from his nap on his keyboard. Younghyun sighed, going back to his monitor and phone. It was a pretty dead evening, he’d only had five or so callers in the six hours he’d been clocked in, two of them miscalls. Younghyun leaned out of the walls of his cubicle, checking to be sure Sungjin wasn’t around, before getting his textbook from the drawer. While being stuck in a call center sucked ass, it gave Younghyun plenty of time to study.
Younghyun easily zoned out where he was while reading about the different types of mental disorders categorized under anxiety. Much to nearly everyone’s surprise, Younghyun genuinely enjoyed his major, and loved to read and learn more. His classes weren’t a chore to him, hence why he took more than he really should. He loved it, even if it got too stressful sometimes. He got so swept up in his reading that he damn near shrieked when he heard the familiar “Caller on line one” ring through his headset. His eyes were wide as he clutched his chest with one hand, trying to take a deep breath or two.
“Caller on line one.”
It was three a.m. why would someone be calling? Their section of the center was scheduled for international callers next week.
“Caller on line one.”
Maybe they’d hang up.
“Caller on line one.”
Fucking fine--
“H-hello?” The voice was really deep, thick with so much emotions that it made Younghyun start to worry, just from hearing that one word.
“Hi, hello, this is the--”
“I kno-ow what this is, someone told me this is the number to call in case...” The voice became muffled, before coming back in sobbing breaths. “...and I just don’t know what to do, I’m so scared, god, fuck...”
Wait, what?
“Hold on, why are you scared? What are you scared of?” Younghyun had no idea where this was going. Why would someone be scared? This was a call center for some stupid name brand clothing line, yet the person on the other line was downright sobbing; he didn’t want to hang up.
“I’m... I’m scared of... myself...”
Oh.
Oh, shit.
“Okay, first let’s get to a safe place, okay? What is your name?”
Younghyun pulled out a different textbook from his Mental Health Counseling class, flipping through the pages to find a chapter he remembered to be most relevant to his current situation.
“Dowoon...”
“Ok Dowoon, where are you right now?”
Younghyun was trying his hardest to remember the training he went through when he volunteered for a teen hotline during high school while quickly rereading pages of his textbook. He wanted to do this right.
“My house...”
“Good, okay, where in your house?”
“...bathroom...”
“Alright, now let’s just go into your bedroom, yeah? Lay down on your bed, get under the covers, grab a pillow, just... get comfy.”
There was some rustling through the speakers.
“Are you comfortable?”
“Y-yeah...”
“Ok good, you’re doing great Dowoon. Now, tell me how your day went.”
“It... it was okay... I guess...”
“Yeah? What was okay about it?”
“I got a good grade on my art final.”
“Oh yeah? What was your final?”
“An acrylic painting... of flowers...”
“Yeah? How did it feel to do well?”
“It felt... nice, I guess.”
“Tell me more about your day.”
“My mom called.”
There was a tremor to his voice that made Younghyun pause, deciding to tread lightly on this subject. Just as he was about to ask another prompting question, Dowoon picked up again.
“My mom called and said that she needed money to pay for the electricity bill because she got fired from her job again. But I... I don’t have any to give her. I don’t have anything...”
Dowoon seemed to be trying to breath, but kept gasping for breath as he tried to hold back sobs.
“It’s ok, Dowoon. Deep breaths, yeah? Deep breaths, breathe with me Dowoon.”
Younghyun now realized what had happened. Dowoon had tried to call the suicide hotline, just one number off from the call center’s. He didn’t have the heart to tell him he had misdialed, so Younghyun kept on listening.
“I’m just trying so hard. I’m trying to keep my scholarship so I can stay in school and not worry about finding a place to sleep or my next meal, and she calls me full knowing I am living off of nothing every month. I can’t get a job because doing so would disqualify me from my scholarship. I just... I’m trying so hard, but no one can see that. My own girlfriend left me because I told her I couldn’t go on a date during finals week, that I couldn’t pay for an expensive wine-and-dine dinner. Everyone keeps on expecting things from me but I have nothing left to give. I had to stop going to my therapy, had to stop taking my prescription, because it wasn’t covered by my college insurance anymore. I have sacrificed everything. I have nothing left to give, and I know it's just the depression talking but I don’t want to continue living if this is what life is.”
There was a pause, a moment of doubt, before Younghyun spoke.
“Dowoon, are you trying your best?”
“I--what?”
“Are you trying your hardest at life?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Are you studying and getting good marks?”
“Yeah, my grades aren’t too bad...”
“Do you take the time to relax and give time to yourself?”
“I try, yeah.”
“Then, Dowoon, you are doing your best. And you can’t give anything more. You can’t give more than one-hundred percent; it’s impossible. You are doing your best. Now tell me, Dowoon. What is something you find worth living for.”
“Worth living for?”
“Yeah.”
“My art, I guess.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Well, I, uh, I do watercolor, mostly...”
“Yeah?”
“I take my own reference photos, so people often mistake me for a photography major.”
“Oh yeah? What do you take pictures of?”
“Flowers, leaves, lots of nature. I really like taking pictures of shoes, people’s shoes.”
“Do you paint them too?”
“Yeah. I once did an entire final project on shoes. Twenty-four paintings of different kinds of shoes.”
“No way! That’s so cool. Which are your favorite kinds? Of shoes, I mean.”
“I really like painting boots. They just... they come in all shapes and sizes and colors and have the most interesting shapes. I dunno, it’s a little weird...” Dowoon trailed off, insecurity lacing his every hesitation.
“No, not at all. I think it’s really creative.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I hope to see your paintings someday, at some famous museum or pretentious art show selling for millions.”
Dowoon laughed softly. Younghyun’s heart melted at the sound, and found himself wondering what his full laugh would sound like.
“Are you majoring in art?”
“No, it’s just my minor. I’m majoring in computer science. I hope to combine my art with my job in the future, though. It's just... unrealistic for me to major in art.”
“Yeah, I get that. What year are you in?”
“I’m graduating this year, hopefully.”
“Oh really? Good luck, then. I’m sure everything will turn out.”
“Yeah, I hope so.”
“Tell me, Dowoon. Are you feeling better?”
“Yeah, actually. Thanks, I think?”
Younghyun chuckled at his confused behavior. “No problem.”
There was an awkward pause.
“Is this... it? Do I just hang up or--”
“No don’t hang up!” Younghyun blurted out, jolting up in his chair. “I mean, you can if you want, or we can just, I dunno, keep talking?”
“Really? Is that... okay?”
“Yup! Great, totally fine, more than fine. Yeah.”
“Ok... oh wait.”
“What?”
“You know my name, but I don’t know yours.”
“Oh, right.” Younghyun was only freaking out a lot. Should he say his real name? A fake one? “Brian. You can call me Brian.”
Younghyun wanted to slam his head onto his desk. Of all the names and nicknames he had, he just had to use the lames one, the one Sungjin used when he was bad, the one Jae had given him claiming ‘everyone needs an alter ego!’ Of course he chose the one he hated the most.
“Nice to meet you Brian.”
And fuck, how did he make the stupidly generic name sound so hot?
“Y-Yeah, nice to meet you too.”
“Thanks again for, you know...”
“Oh, yeah, don’t worry about it, really. Any time you want to talk, literally any time, just call and ask for my name I’ll most likely be here.”
“Thanks. I’ve got to go to sleep. I have a color theory lecture tomorrow that I can’t miss.”
“Get that beauty rest!”
Dowoon laughed, and Younghyun died inside, just a little bit.
“Thanks. I’ll... talk to you? Later?”
“Yeah. Call me whenever, even if it's to tell me you did well on a test or had the best meal or found twenty dollars on the sidewalk. Literally, any time you want someone to talk to. Just... call me.”
“Thanks, Brian.”
“Call ended.”
Younghyun sighed, slouching at his desk as he took off his headset.
4:41 A.M.
It felt like only a couple minutes had passed, yet he had been on the phone for over an hour.
“Brian? What the hell are you still doing here? Your shift ended ten minutes ago!” Sungjin looked as confused as Younghyun felt.
“I told you to stop calling me Brian.”
“Brian, go home.”
“Who’s Brian?”
“Brian...”
“Seriously, who’s Brian?!”
“Go. Home.”
“Fine, fine. I’m going.”
Younghyun gathered all of his things, clocking out on the computer before shutting everything down. He walked outside, clutching the shoulder straps of his backpack as he walked to his dorm in the dim morning light. He had a class at 10 A.M, so he had roughly four hours to sleep before he had to get up again.
Because of his night job, Younghyun was known on campus for sleeping anywhere, anytime. On a bench during lunch? Yup. In the library propped up on a bookshelf? You betcha. On the floor outside his classroom? His favorite place on campus (besides his bed and couch). Sure, it probably wasn’t the healthiest of quirks, but at least he was getting his sleep. Kind of.
Younghyun dropped his bag on the entryway floor, kicking off his shoes as he started stripping off layers. He collapsed onto his bed, setting an alarm before swaddling himself in his comforter and falling asleep.