A/N: Hi everyone! WELCOME TO TOUCH OF BROKEN THINGS!! Thank you so much for clicking on this story!

Based on my fanfic story: Touch of Broken Things [JINKOOK]
Names have changed, plot and story are still the same

If you would like to read the fanfic version of this story, it can be found on my other account TheQuietLoser13, or AO3 under my account TheQuietLoser

November is National Writing Month, which means it's also Nanowrimo month. In my class, we were told to write a 3000-word story in a month.

I asked my teacher for tropes and these were the ones she gave me.

• mafia
• ugly duckling
• if I can't have you, no one can
• death by cliff

I asked my cousin to help me with the story by incorporating all these tropes into my one shot and my teacher helped me with the ending. Anyways, I was able to finish this the first week of December and spent the last few days editing and cutting the story to make it as short as possible.

Heavily inspired by Erroneous by Masquerade16

Ok, that's all I have to say

HOPE YOU ENJOY THE STORY!!

(3678 words)
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From the moment Rosemary was born, success was in her destiny.

Her father worked in an "underground business", dreaming of someday resigning and starting a family. His dream seemed impossible until he met the love of his life.

The day he left with consent from his boss, he vowed never to speak a word of his past to his family.

He moved away to leave that life behind with his wife, who was eventually impregnated and gave birth to a beautiful baby they named Rosemary. For some time, life was a dream come true until everyone was forced to wake up.

His wife's dead body was found in their car parked on the driveway marked with bleeding stab wounds scattered over her torso and a knife plunged to her neck. The smell of iron in the air mixed with the sound of a baby screaming in the back seat felt like a hallucination. His heart turned to stone that day and never thawed.

Rosemary must have been 2 months old when her mother was killed. 2 months old when her dad gave her up for his best friend and wife to raise while he returned to his mafia to avenge his late wife, promising to come back for his daughter someday. Growing up, Rosemary's foster family told her fairytale-like stories about how her father was a hero fighting evil and that he'd return when it was safe.

Years passed until Rosemary was six and her foster parents were pregnant with a child of their own. By then, her father's stories became nothing but tales and her dad became a character, never real to begin with.

Xander was born a few months after Rosemary's birthday. The moment she saw the red scrunched-up, little head wrapped in a blanket bundle, she discovered what a miracle was. For the first time in her life, Rosemary had a friend.

Years went by and the two best friends were inseparable.

They loved each other in a way only they could understand. They didn't have to say it, didn't have to show it, they just knew.

Rosemary often found herself stopping Xander from leaving the house. He had become the most important thing to her, so she wanted him safe from the cruel world she was taught to stay away from. There were times when he'd obeyed and times when he complained. It always ended the same, with a promise. A promise to read to him, cook for him, or to play with him. Yet to her, these actions were the reactions of a promise she made to herself: always protect him.

The return of Rosemary's biological father came during the most unexpected time, even though they should have predicted the arrival would come any day. Rosemary was 21 when someone knocked on their door and a man with a face like hers that wore a hat that covered his features, and a coat that covered his body stood outside.

Questions were thrown around the room and yet the mysterious man gave no direct answer, speaking only 6 bone-chilling words,

"I'm here to take her home."

Her foster dad was someone Rosemary also cared about, more of a hero to her than the character of her father. She trusted him enough to convince her into leaving so she did. But not without Xander's yells of protest.

The teenager ran up to her, his face scrunched up and tears streaming down his cheeks, begging her not to go. As much as it pained her, she wouldn't hesitate to leave if it meant staying was putting Xander's life in danger.

"Remember that the moon always has the stars, which will someday lead me back to you," was the last thing she ever said until 13 years later, when they met again.

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Xander was fifteen when his father confessed to his past and the truth about why Rosemary was taken away. Since then, he begged his dad to get her back. Even if she wasn't his real sister, she was still his best friend. But he refused, claiming it was too dangerous.

So Xander made a decision only a rebellious teenager would make: he ran away.

He left his home in the middle of the night after stealing his mother's wallet. He planned to live out in the street for a while, long enough to strike lucky and get his sister back.

A random park bench became his bed. Cheap convenience store food became his meals. Every day he waited for someone to take him too. No one ever did.

Days passed until he lost count of how long he'd been on the street. The only people on his mind during that time were his parents and his sister, who he had no way of knowing how the hell she even was.

Was she ok? Was she safe?

Such thoughts became overwhelming for the little guy that his first anxiety attack occurred on his park bench one cold night. He searched for luck and received it then in the form of a cop.

The cop happened to be driving around the area and spotted the kid in distress. He parked his car, jogged up to him, and tried his best to help. By coincidence, the boy was the missing kid his team was sent to search for.

Xander doesn't remember what happened afterward, only that he woke up at home.

His parents were furious but as long as he was safe, that was all that mattered. His dad asked him why he had left because he was worried he or his mother had done something wrong. Xander shook his head, eyes teary as he admitted how desperate he was to see his sister.

His father's expression shifted to pity with every word escaping his son's lips. He's never been so apart from Rosemary that he was going insane missing her.

The next morning, a man dressed the same as the man that took his sister came for him. His father called last night and made adjustments to send his son into his old gang, trusting they'd take care of him.

Xander felt uneasy around the large, intimidating bodies, especially the tall blonde-haired man sitting beside him in the backseat, yet all he could think about was the reason he was doing this: for Rosemary.

The kid gingerly asked the scary blonde where they were taking him, his rough voice responding, "a place to toughen you up."

When they arrived at a hotel-looking building, another man guided Xander to his room. It was a beautifully decorated space: renaissance art on the ceiling, red carpet walls, and a king-sized bed. It made him feel like a king and it disgusted him.

The young teen quickly learned the people in this new environment were colder than they were warm.

His trainer was an example. She taught him everything without running it step by step, expecting him to keep up. He learned a lot from her, even though her name never stuck.

The first week of training to become a member was the most stressful. Memorizing so many numbers and so many faces and names. It was overwhelming for a teenager with no experience. Regardless, the nights were the hardest.

The nightmares of his family often woke him up with his forehead drenched in a cold sweat and a rapid heartbeat. But he asked for this life, he couldn't back out now.

One night, an idea struck him. He asked for a single request from one of his trainers: a notebook.

When he received the object, he wrote entries about his feelings and thoughts in detail, addressing them all to one person: Rosemary.

He would never mail them but their presence in a shoebox under his bed was his way of grounding himself from the horrors of the day.

He kept that habit for years.

At age 21, he rose in fame when he was given the honor of becoming their leader's right-hand man for his improvement in his skills.

Because of the title, eyes began to follow him.

The scariest were the eyes of lust like he was some kind of piece of hot meat.

Xander especially hated those stares.

But of course, he kept quiet.

Later, he observed how people with facial scars were given apathy than "pure" people like him.

Thus, with the small pocket knife he was provided for protection, he stood in front of his bathroom mirror. Crying, he clenched the item in his hand, hesitating before bringing it to his face.

In a quick motion, the blade cut across his skin, a deafening scream escaping his throat as the object hit the ground. The dripping blood from the large, stinging cut stained the white marble floor. He collapsed with a thump, screaming for help. Soon, he heard the sound of a door being barged in before his leader carried him to the medical room.

A raised scar that crossed over his left, now blind, eye became a permanent symbol of his weakness.

Everything he worked for was gone.

From then on, he realized the only way to rise to power was not through skills or talent, but strength and fear.

He would never let anyone get to him again.

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The day Rosemary was taken from her family, she had never been more scared. Considering she was surrounded by strangers with unidentifiable intentions, it was understandable. She trusted nobody, no matter how much trust her father had in them.

As a kid, her dad, the man that raised her, stored books in his office on a small shelf. It was how Rosemary explored and learned about the world through her imagination. She often read those stories to her little brother, a person she hadn't thought of in 13 years.

However, during rare moments, she'd remember his smile or his laugh and her frozen heart would thaw for a second before becoming cold again.

Her biological father died on the job when she was 24. She didn't mourn but simply took the throne.

For the next 10 years, she led the gang on her own. After all, a gang that can't run without the help of its leader is weak. Her right-hand man died of mysterious circumstances, frustrating Rosemary because, at the time, they struggled with debt. She requested her associates to search for a new assistant strong enough to aid them out of this drought.

Little did she know, rumors spread about a young, heartless boy that wore a mask. Members thought he sounded ideal for their leader, so they scoured the city for him, paying, killing, and blackmailing locals until they found their treasure.

The masquerade mask hid a real person no one has ever seen behind it. His aura was mysterious, yet unsettling. He was silent too, never uttering a word unless necessary. Even then, he had a voice as deep as the ocean.

He was perfect for the job.

They bribed him with money and riches until the masked man agreed to meet their boss and decide from then.

The man expected nothing when he was brought to the main office. It was until he laid eyes on the woman at the desk that he felt... off. Especially when the lady lifted her head and their eyes met, stopping time.

Her throat clogged up. She knows she knows the person in front of her but from where? Without thinking, the woman stuttered out a broken name in a soft question, loud enough for the masked man to hear, alerting him.

Someone knew his real name.

The masked man's dumbfounded state confirmed Rosemary's suspicions.

"Is that really you?", she asked in a fragile voice.

Xander furrowed his eyebrows under his mask, his hand creeping to the gun in his jacket. "Who are you?"

He had accustomed himself to cold, emotionless gazes from everyone he encountered. Yet, this woman looked at him with regret, pity, and a faint glimpse of love and warmth.

Although her heart cracked at his question, she answered delicately.

"It's Rosemary, Xander."

The name that left her lips triggered every tender childhood memory he suppressed for the last years. Before he knew it, he broke character and ran up to the woman, embracing her in a tight hug as the mask fell off his face and hit the ground.

For the first time in years, Rosemary and Xander felt something.

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The leader was amazed by her brother's growth from the last time she saw him. From a scrawny little kid to a courageous, tough man.

She has changed too. With the many things she has seen, it was hard not to. Rosemary wondered if the case was the same for Xander.

What things has he seen while she wasn't there?

She's reminded of the incident from 20 minutes ago when the mask her brother wore fell off as they reunited with a hug. At first, she thought it was a wise move to hide his identity. Yet, when it no longer covered his face, her mouth flew open in shock seeing the hideous, enormous scar. She bombarded him with questions that reminded him how things never change.

She still felt sick with apprehension for Xander's well-being. Especially now as she watches him enter one of the cars.

20 minutes ago, he agreed to stay as her right-hand man. Hence, for his first task, she sent him to meet with the boss's daughter of one of their allies. She needed information, and who else to send than her most trusted advisor?

She told herself Xander was not the child she left behind. Yet the anxiety wouldn't leave. Surrendering to her thoughts, she secretly sent a bodyguard to spy on him, knowing well the consequences this decision would bring.

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Xander has been here before.

The abandoned-looking building in front of him belonged to a rival of his old gang. For that reason, he'd have to enter the building without his mask, or else they'd recognize him.

Hating that the situation was unavoidable, he sighed, removing the masquerade mask. The young man hesitated to enter because he felt exposed as the cold air hit his bare face. He took some deep breaths before walking through the door with his head held high.

As expected, the interior was gorgeous but he couldn't admire it for too long. Xander strolled to the lady at the front desk, stating who had sent him and who he was there to see. She nodded, directing a bodyguard to show him to the meeting room. He thanked her with a polite bow then turned to follow the other.

He was taken to a living room where an intimidating woman sat waiting for his arrival. Her expression showed bewilderment seeing his presence, soon replaced by a smug smile.

"Well," she purred. "Didn't think you'd come back."

Neither did I.

Xander first met this woman when he was sent to assassinate her. Seeing no trace of fear as he cornered her with no escape and a gun to her face, he fell in love right there and then.

He's a sucker for people who don't easily give up a fight.

If the scenarios were different, this may have been the moment Xander met the love of his life.

After sparing her life, he'd sneak out just to see her. When she began to warm up to him, Xander thought she might've fallen in love too but how wrong he was.

Betrayal came in the form of a gift wrapped in colorful paper that there was no way one could suspect it contained the severed heads of Xander's parents.

5 years later, the ex-lovers were meeting once again.

She stood up, her smirk gone, and walked to him. Xander learned not to let pitiful eyes give him a speck of hope. Besides, it was completely unprofessional to bring personal matters to his job.

However, he thought about using her weak eyes to his advantage. Perhaps... could seducing her work?

Then, reason hit him.

This was his first love who he still loved even after the heartbreak. He couldn't do this to himself and he knew that but he had no other choice.

It's kill or be killed.

Once she was closer, he instinctively slid his hands down her hips, initiating her to kick Xander's stomach at full force, sending him to the floor. He didn't even have time to recover because she quickly got on top of him, using the tie around his neck to cut his airways.

Xander growls to the choke, desperately gasping for oxygen. He swung her aside with his knee and got on her, aiming to press down on her neck but she blocked it with her arms. Frustrated, Xander grips her wrists, pinning them roughly to the floor. She twists her body, wrapping both of her legs to the side of Xander's torso, and forces him aside with his chest to the ground and his arm twisted to his back.

"This isn't over!", he grunts. "Sooner or later, I'm going to find you."

"Well, let me make it easier for you." she pants. "Meet me tomorrow night. Midnight. Right by Masion's cliff near the lighthouse. Alone."

Xander didn't expect her to loosen her grip, gently placing a hand on his cheek to tilt his head and softly peck his lips. "Isn't that more fun than fighting with me?"

With that, she stands and walks out the door, leaving him behind flabbergasted, clueless about who was watching him in the shadows.

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"No."

Xander arched an eyebrow.

"No?"

"I didn't send you so you're not going," Rosemary clarifies.

The younger stays silent for a second before lifting his eyes off the ground to meet hers, irritated. "You can't keep doing this. I am not a kid you need to protect anymore."

Those words hurt more than they should have. He was a strong, wise man, but to her, he'll always be her baby brother.

"I said no and that's final."

Xander rolls his eyes, storming out the door to the lobby. He doesn't care for Rosemary's disapproval, he's going.

He's seen many fucked up things and has been in many fucked up situations. If his sister can't see him as more than fragile, he'll have to prove himself to her.

His chauffeur drives him to the other side of town but doesn't push on knowing who he was meeting up with.

One of Rosemary's advisers spilled the beans about Xander's departure.

With the tracking device she keeps in all her automobiles, she trailed behind him.

Nobody was waiting when Xander arrived. Instead, he waited for them. An hour or so passed and still not a soul had shown up.

Once again, he felt foolish for falling for his ex-lover's tricks. Even after years of training, he truly was... a dumb kid.

"She didn't show up?", a voice startled the masked man.

Turning around, he saw a familiar silhouette that made him frown. "You followed me, are you kidding me?" He threw his hands in the air in frustration.

"It was good that I did, Xander."

"No, it wasn't! I told you I can do it on my own−"

"And yet, look who's here," she points out, hushing him in defeat. "Exactly. Wanna go home?"

The younger one shook his head and then threw his head back to look at the night sky, sighing. "No, not yet."

He walked to the cliff's edge and sat down so his feet could dangle over it.

"Careful, you'll fall." He heard footsteps get closer.

"Go away, I want to be alone."

Minutes later, she's standing next to him, looking down.

"The sky is beautiful at night. Remember when we'd look for the stars but we could never find them?"

Xander nods to himself. He used to look forward to it every night.

"I forgot what it was like to be a child," she continued after a moment.

At her words, he stands up because he felt he needed to, hands in his pocket.

"I wish I never grew up," he admits.

Rosemary's ears perked at this, instinctively repeating his words in a question.

Sighing, Xander takes off his mask, staring at it intensely for a moment before tossing it over the cliff. "I miss being happy."

Their eyes stayed on the sky, the sound of waves crashing on the shore surrounded them. Rosemary breaks the tranquil atmosphere by suddenly asking Xander if he believes in heaven.

"I believe a soul is rewarded with peace after finishing a life before starting another," he responds casually.

She craned her head at him. "You believe in other lives?"

"Scientifically, we're a massive ball of energy. Energy can't be created or destroyed, so where does it go?"

Rosemary bites her lip, her gaze back to the stars.

People are rewarded with peace when they finish a life.

Peace, not pain.

That sounds too beautiful to be true.

"... I guess I'll see you in another life then."

The words don't click in Xander's brain until he feels a hand collide with his back, pushing him at full force. His eyes are wide as he stumbles, his arms frantically reaching out to grab something and save himself but there's nothing.

Rosemary coldly watches her brother's body disappear over the edge. A smile crept on her face at the sound of a faint splash.

No more suffering, no more pain.

You're free.

A single tear ran down her cheek when she closed her eyes.

She no longer had to be afraid of Xander in pain. Walking back to the car, she felt herself feeling less and less until she could no longer feel anything at all but peace.

Rosemary looked at the stars one last time, waving at them with a smile.

"Remember the moon always has the stars, which will someday lead me back to you," she whispered.

"Where to, ma'am?," the chauffeur asked.

Rosemary smirks, pulling a gun from under her seat to aim it at her driver's temple. "The nearest police station. I have a confession to make."

THE END

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A/N: YAY!! ANOTHER STORY COMPLETED

I hope you liked it and please check out my other stories😁

Thank you for reading!!!