Same blood, different worth
Jungkook woke to the sting of cold water splashing across his face. His eyes flew open, heart lurching, but he barely had a second to breathe before a voice sliced through the damp chill.
Arrogant Maid
“Get up, you useless thing! You think chores will do themselves?”
Maid stood over him, empty bucket in hand, her lips twisted in disdain. The flickering bulb overhead cast her shadow long and sharp against the cracked walls of the servant quarters. Jungkook’s thin blanket was already soaked through, icy against his skin. He bit the inside of his cheek and forced himself not to shiver. Showing weakness never ended well.
His joints ached as he sat up, the straw mattress beneath him groaning in protest. The room was barely wide enough to stretch his legs, its corners damp with mold and neglect. He’d long stopped wondering if they’d ever fix the leaks. The Jeons wouldn’t waste money on someone they wished had never been born.
There were better rooms in the servant quarters—ones with proper beds and heaters for winter nights—but Jungkook was given the worst. The smallest, coldest space at the far end of the hall, where drafts seeped through cracked windows and rats scratched behind the walls. Even the other servants, who never dared to meet his eyes, seemed to pity him sometimes. But not enough to speak up. No one ever did.
Jeon Jungkook/Cursed twin
“I-I’ll get started,”
Jungkook replied- hisVoice raw with sleep, but the Maid’s hand snapped out, fingers digging into his arm with bruising force.
Arrogant Maid
“Make sure you stay out of sight today,” she hissed, nails biting through the thin fabric of his sleeve. “Young master Jeongguk is back, and no one wants to see your miserable face ruining things.”
Jeongguk. The name struck like ice down Jungkook’s spine. The golden twin—the blessing, adored by all. His brother. The one who never had to hide in shadows or scrub floors until his hands bled. The one who lived in the warmth of the main house, never sparing a glance for the brother cast aside.
It had been months since Jeongguk last came home, off to some academy for the gifted where the world seemed to bend at his feet. Jungkook’s memories of him were sharp with cruelty—the way Jeongguk’s gaze would slide past him as if he were a ghost, the way his words would cut deeper than any slap.
“Why don’t you just disappear already?” Jeongguk had once said, eyes cold and bored. “You’re nothing but a stain on this family.”
Those words still rang in Jungkook’s ears, even now.
Once, when they were children, Jungkook had stumbled through his lessons, letters twisting and doubling on the page. No matter how hard he tried, the words wouldn’t stay still. He had stuttered and fumbled, cheeks burning with shame as the tutor sneered. But no one had listened when he tried to explain—how the letters never made sense, how they blurred and danced until his head throbbed.
The more jungkook thought the more he recalled
Jeon Junseo/ Mr. Jeon
( “Stop making excuses,” his voice sharp with disgust. )
Jeon Seul/Mrs.jeon
(“you can’t even read!!!!! you’re even more pathetic than I thought! You're such an insult to my womb.” her voice laced with obvious disdain )
They never brought in a specialist, never asked if something was wrong. The word “dyslexic” was never uttered, not even in whispers. It was easier to believe he was just stupid, just defective—another flaw in a child who was never meant to exist
Even now, years later, Jungkook’s hands trembled when he picked up a book. He avoided writing, avoided any task that might betray him, keeping his head down and eyes lower. It was better to stay invisible. Better to be a shadow.
Obidience was all Jungkook knew. He never complained and always listened without refute. but that too didn't guarantee his safety.
Once, on the rare occasion when laughter had escaped him, light and startled, the sound had drawn eyes—disgusted and hateful. A passing maid had slapped the smile right off his face on the ordeal of his parents, her expression too was twisted.
It was as if they couldn't bear it. Couldn't bear to see him smile even the tiniest bit.
“Don’t you dare,” she’d spat, voice dripping venom. “Someone like you has no right to be happy.”
Since then, Jungkook learned to school his expressions, to smooth away smiles before they could bloom, to keep his head bowed and his voice soft. Happiness was a luxury for blessings, not curses.
The door creaked open without warning, snapping Jungkook from the memory. He flinched back instinctively, eyes dropping to the floorboards.
The voice was light, almost amused. Footsteps echoed in the cramped room, polished shoes stopping just short of the sodden mattress
Jungkook didn’t need to look up to know who it was. The scent of cologne, expensive and cold, was enough.
Jeon Jungkook/Cursed twin
( Jeongguk.)
Jeon Jeongguk/Blessed twin
“Pathetic.”
The twin who wore their shared face like a crown, every inch of him sculpted to perfection. Even without looking, Jungkook could picture him—eyes glinting with disdain, lips curled in a smirk that had haunted him for years.
Jeon Jungkook/Cursed twin
“I— I’m sorry,” Jungkook stammered, hating how small his voice sounded, how it cracked in the silence. “I was just about to—”
Jeon Jeongguk/Blessed twin
“Save it,” he sneered, cutting him off. “Your existence is apology enough.”
Jeon Jungkook/Cursed twin
The words twisted deep, and Jungkook’s fingers curled into the soaked blanket, knuckles bone-white. But he forced himself to nod, gaze fixed firmly on the floor. Resistance only ever made things worse.
Jeon Jeongguk/Blessed twin
( chuckled, a low, mocking sound, and leaned in, voice a cruel whisper.)
Jeon Jeongguk/Blessed twin
“Do us all a favor and stay out of sight,” he said, eyes glinting with something darker. “I don’t need a curse ruining my welcome back.”
The door slammed shut, the finality of it ringing loud and hollow in the silence left behind. Jungkook stayed where he was, head bowed, breath shallow and shuddering. His chest ached with something raw and bitter—anger, maybe, or something dangerously close to hopelessness.
He stayed like that for a long time, the cold seeping in deep, until the chill felt like it was part of him. Until he couldn’t tell where it ended and he began.
Arrogant Maid
( Was enjoying the show from sidelines and forwarded towards Jungkook as soon as jeongguk left the vicinity of the servant quarters )
Arrogant Maid
* pushed jungkook aggressively on the floor with a taunting smirk on her face before making her way out *
Arrogant Maid
"Hurry up fag."
Jeon Jungkook/Cursed twin
( whimpered in pain but didn't complain and obidiently remained there. seated on the floor. )
Jungkook stayed on the floor for a long moment, knees pressed against the icy tiles, breath shallow and trembling. His fingers were still curled tight around the soaked fabric, knuckles bloodless and stiff. The chill seeped deep, numbing skin and bone, but he barely felt it—couldn’t feel much past the dull ache spreading heavy in his chest.
“Your existence is apology enough.”
words from earlier rang sharp and bitter, each syllable digging deeper, reopening wounds that never seemed to heal. The memory hung heavy, a weight pressing him lower, and for a heartbeat, Jungkook couldn’t move—couldn’t do anything but stare at the dark stains creeping into the cloth clutched between his fingers.
But the world didn’t pause for curses, and neither could he. Not if he wanted to avoid another beating.
With a breath that shuddered all the way through, Jungkook forced himself to his feet. His legs trembled, raw palms stinging as he gripped the counter for support. The flickering light overhead buzzed loud and sharp, a cruel reminder that silence was never safe. He bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to taste copper and blinked back the sting behind his eyes. There was no time to fall apart. No one would care even if he did.
He worked quickly, hands fumbling with wet fabric,as he undressed himself. gathering each soaked piece and wringing them out until water pooled at his feet. While putting them aside he hissed as The cuts on his fingers screamed with every twist, but pain was a familiar companion—constant, unremarkable. It was better to focus on that than the cold emptiness curling in his gut, the whispers that clawed at the edges of his mind.
Arrogant Maid
"Move faster, freak!"
A sharp rap at the door tore through the silence, followed by a sneering voice.
Jeon Jungkook/Cursed twin
Jungkook’s fingers trembled as he pulled on a threadbare shirt, the fabric rough and frayed at the edges.
It was the least worn-out pair he had, but the sleeves still stopped above his wrists, too short and stretched thin with age. His pants weren’t much better—faded and loose, dragging over bare feet that had long since grown used to the chill of cracked tiles and icy floors. The small mirror hanging crookedly on the wall reflected a pale face, dark eyes dull and rimmed with shadows.
His hands moved slowly, smoothing the wrinkles, though it made little difference. Nothing could hide the bruises blooming dark and painful along his arms, the thinness of his frame or the way his shoulders curled inward, instinctive and defensive.
Arrogant Maid
"do you want to get beaten again you bit_h??”
Jungkook flinched, fingers fumbling with the buttons.
Jeon Jungkook/Cursed twin
“I-I’m coming,”
He mumbled, voice cracking low, and hurried to pull the shirt over bruised shoulders. The door creaked open before he could reach it fully, slamming against the wall with a force that made him flinch back instinctively.
The Maid stood in the doorway, eyes narrowed with impatience and disgust. The moment he stepped out, head ducked low, her hand shot out, palm cracking sharp against his cheek. The sting bloomed instantly, hot and searing, and his head snapped to the side, eyes squeezing shut.
Arrogant Maid
She spat, lip curling “Can’t even manage to dress yourself properly. No wonder everyone hates you."
Arrogant Maid
" Tell you what- If it were up to me, I’d throw you and toss you out like the trash you are just like them.”
Jungkook’s cheek throbbed, the skin raw and burning, but he bit the inside of his lip hard to keep the tears at bay. Crying only made it worse—he’d learned that young. His hands shook as he bowed his head lower, dark hair falling over his eyes.
Jeon Jungkook/Cursed twin
“I’m s-sorry”
He whispered, voice barely more than a breath.
The said maid scoffed, pushing past him with a glare.
Arrogant Maid
“Don’t stand there like an idiot,” she snapped, voice carrying down the hallway. “The dishes won’t clean themselves, freak.”
His legs felt heavy, the ache from yesterday’s chores still clinging stubbornly, but he forced them to move, each step slow and careful. The hallway stretched long and dim, the cracked wallpaper peeling in strips. The servant quarters were dark and cold, the narrow windows fogged with grime and frost, but the main mansion loomed ahead—warm and blinding, a palace of marble and glass.
Jungkook hesitated at the back entrance, fingers hovering over the brass handle, breath misting in the cold. The light spilling through the glass was too bright, too warm, a stark reminder of everything he didn’t belong to. But the thought of Maid’s resentful glare, her pressing a sleek heated iron rod on his wrist last time he’d been late,The fear of those burns, forced him forward.
The warmth inside was suffocating after the icy air outside, heavy with the scent of lavender polish and roasting meat. Voices drifted down the corridor—maids chattering lightly, laughter careless and bright. Jungkook kept his head down, eyes fixed on the marble floor, heart thundering painfully against his ribs.
It didn’t take long for the whispers to start.
？？？
“Look who finally decided to crawl out of his hole,” one of the maids sneered, voice low but loud enough to carry.
? ? ?
“Maybe he’s here to curse the food,” another snickered, lips twisting cruelly. “Isn’t that all he’s good for?”
Jungkook’s shoulders tensed instinctively, steps faltering, but he forced them forward—hands clutching the hem of his shirt tight enough for the seams to strain. The kitchen doors loomed ahead, warmth spilling through the gap, and he slipped inside quickly, fingers trembling with every step.
But safety was a luxury he’d never had.
Jeongguk’s voice rang out before he could take another breath, smooth and cold.
Jeon Jeongguk/Blessed twin
"Disgusting."
Jeon Jeongguk/Blessed twin
He drawled, eyes glinting with disdain. His posture was lazy, one hand resting on the kitchen counter. The unwelcoming gaze set on his 'twin' “Can’t even walk properly, can you?”
Jungkook froze, throat tightening painfully. His eyes flickered up instinctively, catching Jeongguk’s gaze for a split second before dropping back to the floor. His fingers twisted in the hem of his shirt, nails biting through thin fabric into bruised skin.
Jeon Jungkook/Cursed twin
“I-I’m sorry,” he mumbled, voice cracking low. “I didn’t—c-can- I’ll move faster.”
Jeon Jeongguk/Blessed twin
Jeongguk scoffed, lips curling. “You’re sorry for everything, aren’t you?” he sneered, voice light and mocking.
Jeon Jeongguk/Blessed twin
“Must be tiring, being such a disappointment all the time.”
Jeon Jeongguk/Blessed twin
His hand shot out suddenly, shoving hard against Jungkook’s shoulder. The impact sent him stumbling back, shoulder slamming into the doorframe, pain flaring white-hot and instant. Laughter rang out—sharp and cruel, echoing against marble and steel.
Jeon Jeongguk/Blessed twin
“You're so unpleasant to look at you know?” Jeongguk muttered, flicking invisible dust off his sleeve. “Keep the rules in mind Or I’ll make sure you remember it my way.”
Jeon Jungkook/Cursed twin
Jungkook’s legs trembled, eyes stinging, but he didn’t hesitate—couldn’t. He turned quickly, stumbling over his own feet, steps uneven and rushed. The hallway was empty, shadows stretching long and cold, and he hurried through it, breaths coming short and shallow, pulse drumming painfully loud in his ears.
The laundry room was colder, the draft biting through the thin fabric of his shirt, but it was quiet—blessedly, painfully quiet. His hands moved on instinct, gathering linens and uniforms, the pile seeming to grow heavier with every load. By the time the first basket was done, his arms ached, palms stinging with tiny cuts and scrapes.
The laundry for the family came first—silks and velvet, soft and delicate. Then the servants’ uniforms—stiff, dark, smelling of starch and sweat. Hours blurred, the sun crawling higher through barred windows, feet sore from standing. The washing machine rattled and groaned, but he moved mechanically, scrubbing collars and cuffs until his fingers turned numb.
His hands stilled only when the last shirt was wrung out, water pooling dark at his feet. The ache in his chest pulsed sharp and hollow, exhaustion weighing down heavy and relentless. His eyes stung with fatigue, limbs trembling, but there was no time to pause.
His eyes burned, lips parting to draw shallow breaths as he blinked back the tears that threatened to spill. Crying would only make it worse. Weakness was a sin in this house, and he had no more room for sin.
Somewhere, beyond the thin walls, laughter echoed—bright and carefree. Jeongguk’s voice among them, ringing clear and light, a melody in a world Jungkook could never reach.
And as he dipped his hands back into the soapy water, scrubbing at a stubborn stain, he whispered the only truth he knew, a mantra to fill the hollow silence.
“A mistake in flesh, a burden by name.”
This wasn't the only one he knew
"Not fit to live, only fit to obey."
"Cursed in blood, worthless in flesh."
Comments
krish
I hope you suffer more than him
2025-03-14
1