Against the world (male reader)

1

Perspective: (y/n)

I hear the club hitting the metal bars, waking me up. Stirring awake, I feel the first rays of the sun hitting my face. The bars of the window paint a square pattern onto the floor.
Barely awake, I sit up slowly, before checking if everything was still there. Reaching under my pillow, I feel the cold leather book in my hand.
Every morning I reach for it, afraid it got stolen over the night. And every morning it is still hidden there.
Opening it, I read a couple of lines of the first page, before closing and hiding it from the eyes of possible thieves.
Hearing footsteps, I look towards the left.
"Prisoner D-25-12!"
I look at the prison guard with an emotionless face. A whole year in prison made me become almost a completely different person. I was always cautious and ready to run or fight.
"You have one hour left."
I nod before turning away, hiding my smile.
Finally. Finally I will get out of here.

When I change into the clothes I wore, when I got arrested, I make sure to also take my precious notepad with me. Glancing outside from a window with metal bars for the last time, I realize it is indeed a great day.
I put on my old cap. A black one, with one our two small wholes and a big light spot, where I pealed off the stupid logo. It still smells like the alcohol I drank that night.
Walking up to the reception, I realize only a few steps away is the freedom I have been yearning for the entire time. After signing an agreement, that I got all my stuff back, I turn towards the door. With every step I take, I feel lighter. I'm finally leaving this place behind.

As expected, the sun is blinding me, when I step out of the door. I pull my cap further down, to avoid the sun and any possible people around me. There is no need for them to know, who just got out of prison. Taking in the fresh morning air I smile widely. I have never felt so good since I became a trainee for...
I stop myself from continuing the thought. There is no need to dwell on the past. I can not change it. Only the future.

After enjoying my new found freedom for a while, I finally realize, that I don't have a clue where to go to. My parents died, when I was young. I grew up in an orphanage. As far as I know, I don't have any family. And that means I don't have anyone to go to. Of course I made friends when I trained, but we were never that close. We were still competitors.
There is only one person, who might be able to help me. But I haven't seen him in years.
That's why I'm shocked, when I suddenly see a familiar face. On the other side of the street, a young man puts his mask back on, after breaking eye contact with me. He slowly begins to walk down the street, as he pulls his own cap further into his face.
I pretend I didn't see him and look around for a few more moments, before I slowly follow him.
The two of us walk like that for a couple of minutes. I sometimes pretend to look at a few accessories, which a few street vendors sell as I walk by. Once in a while, the guy ahead checks his phone, making it look like he is searching for the right way. This way, the two of us keep almost the same distance the whole walk, until he takes the stairs of a subway station.
Because I'm still far behind him, I have to wait a while at the red light, before I'm able to follow him underground.

Once I reach the platforms, I don't see him immediately. Looking around, I search for him, until I see him, heading off towards the bathroom. Following him once more, I reach the facilities a few moments later. When the two of us enter the room, our eyes meet again, before we check if anyone else is in here.

Once we feel save, I turn towards him and realize he has already taken off his mask.
"Hyung."
I greet him with a handshake.
"Long time no see."
He gives me the same smile, that lightens up thousands of girls' hearts when he is on stage.
"You didn't visit me."
I smile at him, being fully aware of the fact, that it would have been way too risky.
"A 'nice to meet you' would have been nice."
"Relax, old man."
I mock him, enjoying how his eyes widen.
"Yah! You either call me 'hyung' or Namjoon. No nicknames."
I wave it off, before giving him a long look up and down.
"Why are you here. Surely not because you missed me."
"Actually? I did miss you. But you are right. I'm not here because of that."
"Then what is it? Do you need money."
He looks at me with anger in his eyes, while sucking the air in through his teeth.
"I told you to be respectful. People don't like disrespectful idols."
I scoff at him.
"I used to be respectful. And do you think it was worth it?"
Namjoon rolls his eyes at me.
"I know I can't stop you, so do what you want to do. I just came here to offer you something."
"And what would that be?"
"My help."
"No, thank you."
I'm about to turn around and leave, but he holds my arm.
"I can lend you some money. You can give it back, once you made it."
I raise my eyebrow at him.
"I know you will make it."
"I will never be indebted to anyone. If I can't become a rapper on my own, than it's not meant to happen."