Chapter Text
Maybe if he'd had a family to look after him or a friend who could take him in, if he hadn't been alone, if life hadn't been so hard and cruel. Maybe he wouldn't have ended up there.
Felix worked from Monday to Monday, a miserable job during office hours, but enough to pay his rent, but not enough to put food in his belly, so his days off were filled with work too, whatever odd jobs he could get.
And Felix was tired, of course. The nights were always sleepless, his body begged for rest and the apartment he was struggling to pay for was still better than the street, but it was still cold and not very safe.
He got off at the bus stop, taking a deep breath, his body tired from the night of work. He looked ahead at the advertising sign. “Clothes to make your little one look cute!”. He saw the girl with the pacifier in her mouth, the ponytails in her hair, her big, innocent eyes looking towards the camera as she hugged a rabbit plush.
“Littles” was the name given to adults who weren't adults, adult bodies but children's minds. Eternal children or babies. And they were loved by the world, having a little one was a dream of many, but the government license to have custody of one was difficult, in addition to the minimum income that was needed to raise one. Little ones were accidentally a luxury item that many struggled to have and others actually owned.
Felix didn't understand how it worked, where these “children” came from, the government said that these littles were identified in their childhood, that they were cared for and relocated to caregiver families.
“Caregivers” are the adults responsible for littles, after an intense government education and tests that give them permission. The only ones capable, according to the government, of looking after littles. So much so that each and every caregiver lived in a community of their own, protected by the government.
Felix continued on his way, walking home. Unlike those who managed to have littles at home, who never lacked food on the table, Felix needed to rest and eat, tomorrow he would have to work again.
If he hadn't been so tired, he might have noticed the eyes watching him from afar, marking his every step.
Perhaps if he had a friend he would have known about the young people who disappeared, young people like him, without friends, who were seen on the streets until they disappeared as if they had never existed.
And who knows, maybe when he got home and a shiver ran through his body his fear wouldn't have been that he'd been robbed or that very little he owned had been stolen. No, he would have worried about the possibility that it had happened to him, about the sensation of the needle in his neck.
- ☆ -
Chan was in the studio working on another song. He was so focused that he almost didn't notice his smartphone ringing, but when he felt the vibration on the table, he turned to look at it.
His heart beat a little faster when he saw the number, it was a call that not only he but all the boys had been waiting for months.
He brought his phone up to his ear and answered the call.
“Bang Chan?”
“Yes, the man himself.”
“A pleasure, I'm Park Yoojin from the adoption center for littles. I'd like to inform you that you and the other caregivers in your family have reached the top of our waiting list and we have a little one that we think would be perfect for your family. ”
Chan held back from screaming in celebration into the phone.
“Would you like to meet him?”
“Yes, we would.”
“Great! I'll send you the information via the registration e-mail address, and once we hear back from you, we'll continue the process. It's a pleasure to speak to you.”
“My pleasure, thank you!”
Chan stood up, ready to tell everyone the news.