Chapter Text
1700s, The Disraeli Manor
One stitch forward, poke the needle down, again. Another stitch more, make a small hoop around, tie the knot.
The room was small and dark, but full of mannequins; different colours of thread and every material of cloth you could think of. The dresses were spectacular, some on a soft ivory tulle with beaded detailing and soft embroidered roses, others like a closet pandora hanging elegantly atop a fitting robe.
In the middle of the room, was an omega stitching every dress by hand, sitting on top of a barely hanging wooden chair, and rusty fingers that have been tired out from stitching overtime. It’s crazy to believe that all these dresses were made by one boy, Baekhyun.
Baekhyun, red-eyed and miserable, tried to focus on his work, but his throat was so dry and he felt so hungry from the lack of food in his stomach. There was barely any sunlight coming in from his shabby little workspace, he doesn’t even know what time it was. Judging from his hunger, it’s probably way past 10 in the evening.
The door suddenly opens, and Baekhyun immediately speeds up the stitching, if he doesn’t finish it on time-
“Boy, show me your progress.” The man walked in and spoke with a haughty breath, pot belly protruding as he stared distastefully at the omega.
Baekhyun submits immediately in fear of punishment, presenting his work to the man, beautifully embroidered stars and lilies on the fabric. The stitching was like looking at a piece of art. The man takes a quick glance at the embroidery, paused for a moment before huffing a little before tossing it to the side.
“You stupid omega, do you think this will sell? I told you, we are only stitching FLOWERS! Nobody has time for some stupid stars!”
The man throws a punch at the omega, and all Baekhyun could do was mumble a thousand apologies like he had always done. It was the only way he could stop the pain. Baekhyun tries to protect himself by crouching into a ball, but he was so skinny, and there was barely any fat in his body to protect him from the sturdy and heavy punches from the man.
The perpetrator was Erik Disraeli, everyone in the country knew him because of his remarkable designs in fashion. The family have had many famous customers, including royalty, viscounts and the barons.
But too bad, Erik Disraeli couldn’t even hold a needle and a thread. His stitching? Pathetic.
Every customer who left with an iconic “Disraeli” dress was actually wearing something painstakingly sewn by Byun Baekhyun. The family charged a few hundred florins per dress, but poor Baekhyun got none of that, he didn’t even know that he should have been paid for his hard work. Baekhyun also didn’t realize that people talked about the unique stitching and the beautiful dresses all the time, named as the “Disraeli Style”.
Erik Disraeli made a name for himself without doing anything, all he needed was an obedient seamstress locked up in their basement. Erik only knew how to crush the omega’s worth, hurling nonsense that would make the boy feel more worthless. He made the omega feel like he was the most useless human to ever walk this earth, that he should be thankful that he even has a roof over his head.
“Eat this and redo everything. Pathetic.” Erik shakes his head and locks the door.
Baekhyun limps over to grab that measly piece of dry bread and a dish of water. He hates how he’s gobbling this piece of bread up like a beggar, how hard he was chewing at it so that his stomach could quickly be filled. He gulps that little bit of water, which only eased his dry throat by just a little.
Being here is much worse than being on the streets.
When Baekhyun was a little boy, he heard about the unique ability that omegas had. He knew that they were rare, but it fascinated him to know that he would one day be able to bear a child of his own. But his fantasy was quickly shattered, when he started roaming the streets at an older age, realizing that omegas were the worst off in their society.
Baekhyun remembers how he had crouched at a cornerstone of a shop somewhere when he was thirteen, playing with a thread and needle and embroidering a piece of cloth. Another foster home had just rejected him again for being an omega, he had to survive with what he could find. What Baekhyun didn’t realise at that time was that there was a man watching over him at a corner, admiring his handicraft.
“Hi, I’m Erik Disraeli, would you like to stitch to your heart’s content? I’ll provide you with all the material you need. I will make you famous. Just trust me.”
The man had placed a warm glass of milk in Baekhyun’s hand and a florin in his other palm like a peace offering, smiling gently and wiping the ash off Baekhyun’s cheek. He spoke with such a fatherly voice that Baekhyun had grabbed onto his hand willingly, hoping that it would lead him to a much better future.
But he was wrong, taking that man’s hand is probably the worst decision in his life.
It’s been almost eight years now, and Baekhyun has never stopped churning out new dresses and suits everyday. He doesn’t know where his designs go, only given certain measurements and told to create the best dress he could think of. If not, the Disraeli family tortures him, grabs his hair and starves him until he does something they are pleased with. Keeping quiet is his way of admitting defeat, that the dreams he once yearned for were just foolish thinking.
Baekhyun used to love embroidery so much, but now when he looks at his scarred hands, trembling with every stitch, he feels like his passion for the craft is on the verge of falling down a perpetual pit. He couldn’t even look at his needle without feeling the need to tremor in fear anymore. It was pure torture.
Baekhyun limps and goes over to blow the candle, deciding to call it a night. The room is shabby and small, mostly used to store the cloths and threads, and only a small corner is available for Baekhyun to make a sleeping area. It was only a thin piece of cloth and a pillow made from some leftover cotton. The floor is hard and cold.
Baekhyun tries to make himself comfortable, but his skin constantly grazes against the rough patch of the wooden floor, making him hiss at the searing feeling around his back and legs.
-
Chanyeol steps out from his carriage and looks up at the Disraeli manor, taking a deep breath of the fresh air. He notices how one of the maids had quickly ran in to inform their master of the unexpected guest the moment they saw his carriage arrive, it was important since Chanyeol appeared to be incredibly rich and handsome. The maids told him to take a quick tour of the house as their master prepares to greet him.
Chanyeol walks around, and finds himself walking into a room filled with extravagant dresses and suits of every design. Chanyeol decides to take a closer look, he’s in awe of the impeccable stitching that no other household could replicate. It was so beautiful, every stitch so elegant and meaningful. He couldn’t wait to get a Disraeli piece of his own.
Sniff. Sniff.
Chanyeol turns his head, surprised by the sudden sound. His eyes travel around the room, trying to find the source of the noise. Chanyeol notices a mop of hair behind a curtain, he goes closer and opens it, expecting a puppy to run out.
But all Chanyeol sees is a skinny boy in ragged clothing, with a needle and thread in his hand.
“Hello, are you okay in there?” Chanyeol asked, kneeling to be on the same level with the boy.
Baekhyun looked startled, he is definitely going to get punished if the master finds out.
“Wait, don’t be afraid. I’m Park Chanyeol.” Chanyeol tries, reaching a hand out to show his good intention. He frowns when he realizes that the boy isn’t responding.
“Um, do you not speak?” Chanyeol tries again, more gently this time, but the boy’s breathing becomes even heavier, scrambling to put his needle and thread away.
“Park Chanyeol! I’m so sorry for being late, I have heard so many great things about you…” Erik Disraeli walks in with a polite smile, but it immediately falters when he sees the boy in Park Chanyeol’s embrace.
“You brat, what are you doing here? Get out, I’ll deal with you later.” Erik scolded, dragging Baekhyun out roughly before asking one of the maids to bring him away. Chanyeol stares at the scene, and notices the scars on the boy’s legs as they bring him away.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Park. That boy is one of our servants, he’s always causing trouble. I heard you were interested in getting a tailored suit for yourself.” Erik spoke warmly, a complete change from a second ago, guiding him over to look at the designs.
Chanyeol couldn’t get the thought of the boy out of his head.
“Yes, and I’ll pay you a thousand florins if I can get it by the end of the month.” Chanyeol proposed, smiling vaguely at the man.
Erik’s eyes widened. Park Chanyeol was much richer than he thought. He had heard about a certain rich merchant who had travelled the different seas, opened up trading and made a lot of money. A thousand florins would be enough to buy them a new house!
“A thousand florins, Mr. Park? O-Of course, though we will need you to make a deposit first.”
Chanyeol calls for his assistant, who pulls out a large cloth bag and places it in Erik’s hands. Erik gasped, he has never held this much money before.
“Here, a thousand florins. I hope you can fulfill my request. I’ll add a hundred more florins if I could see some stitching today. This embroidery, it really is remarkable. ” Chanyeol smiled as he looked at some sample pieces, they were really beautiful.
Erik stammered, but continued smiling. Chanyeol was not the first client to request to see his stitching. He hoped Chanyeol wouldn’t suspect him. “Sorry Mr. Park, I’m not uh, feeling very well today, I’ll just accept the thousand florins!”
“Alright, I look forward to working with you.” Chanyeol gives a bland shake of a hand, an inexpressible and stoic expression on his face. It made Erik Disraeli a little scared.
“Thank you Mr. Park, please come again next week so that we can prepare to do the measurements!”
-
Baekhyun groaned when he was faced with another blow to the stomach. Ever since Park Chanyeol left the Disraeli house, Erik had gone downstairs to give the omega a painful lesson.
“Pathetic omega, you can’t even follow instructions. Why did you leave your room?” Erik throws another punch at the omega’s face, hand placed around Baekhyun’s neck in a choking posture. Baekhyun scratched the man’s hand, there was hardly any air left in his lungs.
“F-Food.” Baekhyun choked out, before he was finally released from Erik’s grip, coughing as he fell to the floor.
“Ungrateful bastard, I already feed you and you speak back to me? One more time and I’ll sell you to a brothel. You’re an omega after all, that’s the only other thing you could do.” Erik grabbed onto Baekhyun’s shirt roughly, causing the omega to shake his head feverishly. The brothel is the last place he wants to be in.
Erik throws one last punch at the omega before heading back upstairs. Baekhyun hears him muttering to one of the maids about wanting to change the lock, that way, Baekhyun will never escape.
Baekhyun slowly closed his eyes, too tired to think about anything. His body is sore from all the cuts and bruises, he’s broken beyond repair. Before Baekhyun drifts off to sleep, he dreams of the man who had been so kind to him today, and wonders if they’ll meet again.