𝔸 𝔽ℝ𝕀𝔼ℕ𝔻 𝕆𝔽 𝔸 𝔽ℝ𝕀𝔼ℕ𝔻 | ℂℍ. 11
| 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐰 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐮𝐧𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫.
|𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞/𝐚𝐮: 𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬,𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭,𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐚𝐮, 𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭.
| 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐗 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
| 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬, 𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐞, 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐬 & 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥, 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞 ( 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤), 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 (𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐬), 𝐬𝐞𝐱 ( 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬), 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐠𝐮𝐧𝐬 & 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐬, 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞
| A/N: I apologize for my delay in updating this amazing story i have been working on but i had been facing some difficulties with my work schedule. i hope you enjoy and i hope that it may not be too late.
A rose like any flower once cut from its stem can only survive a few hours before its cells begin to break down, it no longer receives water or nutrients. It slowly begins to consume itself for survival. Its petals and leaves begin to wilt, curl, dry, and droop, cell membranes degrade and tissue starts to soften the flower pigments such as anthocyanins and chlorophyll break down, leading to browning and its color eventually fading.
What is once praised for its beauty eventually ends up being thrown away. When it is no longer beautiful, when it is no longer valuable it is discarded, trash.
Cell death, autolysis, microbial breakdown and eventually organic disintegration.
In Jungkooks opinion all things living decay the same, some faster than others, some skipping a few stages. In this moment for example as he holds his breath, he imagines his body shutting down, his source of oxygen cutting off, his skin beginning to soften.
Jin’s involuntary visit had left the solemn man more drained than before, perhaps holding onto more questions and anxiousness than before he received that which he had been hungrily seeking. It was no secret that their friendship had changed, that a distance had grown, that he attempted to ignore the fact that now, he did not know the man who sat in front of him an hour prior.
The truth ached inside of him like a stubborn cut, it stung. An inescapable pain that now remained.
It was bitter and stubborn.
Perhaps it would have been better to ignore the entire ordeal after all, perhaps if he hadn't come then Jungkook could've pretended nothing had changed.
That they were still on the same side somehow.
He could’ve avoided himself the guilt that ransacked his brain now, the possibility or the reality that Jin felt like he needed to protect you from him. Had he been that cruel?
Had you been decaying too?
“Kook” Taehyung spoke, his voice heavy whilst he leaned against the console next to the window of Jungkook’s office. If Jungkook would have lifted his gaze he would have caught the worry in Taehyung’s face which lately had been the only expression he appeared to be able to produce, along with the 6th cigarette that sat in between his fingers.
He would’ve noticed that much like him, the stress ate away at his friend. The twitch below his right eye which he tried to rid himself of by rubbing at it aggresively.
“Did he leave?” Jungkook holds his gaze against the empty cup in front of him, the only thing keeping the room from spinning around him, an anchor.
“Yes but how do we know he wont go and tell her we know where she is now?” Taehyung responds, more like complaining.
“Because” Jungkook starts, adjusting his slumped posture. Holding his mouth shut for a moment too long.
“Because?” Taehyung questions, agitated.
Jungkook doesn't say what he really wants to say, he doesn't want to tell Taehyung that he thinks he owes Jin trust even after all that has happened, after all that he has done. He does not say that there is still loyalty that remains in his chest for his old friend, that he would feel like a load of shit if he didn't at least expect Jin not to speak to you about this meeting because he knows it's stupid, he knows it's illogical.
“Much like i desperately seek her safety i have no doubt in my mind he does too”.
Taehyung huffs, sliding the cigarette between his lips and taking a drag, neither of them say what they really want to say, how jungkook wants to tell Taehyung to have a bit of faith despite their friend's betrayal, how Taehyung wants to call him an idiot.
“So what now?” Taehyung throws another question in the air that Jungkook can't bring himself to answer rationally.
“I'll go tell some of the boys and we can head there right now” Taehyung decides, throwing his half burnt cigarette into an ash tray nearby.
“No” Jungkook replies quickly, desperately.
“No?” Taehyung furrows his eyebrows, his anxious demeanor speaking for him.
Taehyung goes through 3 stages of emotions at that moment. At first, he laughs - his cackles loud and obnoxious, he dares to bend over and hold his belly. When one is tired, things tend to be more funny. When his cackles die down and he allows himself to look at Jungkook clearly, at his determined expression his lips which had been pulled into a smile then fall quickly, confusion wrapping itself between his eyebrows.
Then the annoyance takes over, the frown he forms overtaking both his expression and his posture, which is now stiff and unmoved. He feels his feet dig themselves harshly onto the ground below him.
“Have you completely lost your fucking mind?”
Taehyung wishes his voice boomed louder so that perhaps his tone would deter the man who sat solemnly in front of him.
Jungkook sighs and his eyes leave the glass, the room begins to spin and he grows dizzy, his hands coming to cover his face in contemplation.
“It wasn't a request Taehyung” Jungkook snaps, wishing his voice didn't carry so much disdain.
“Jungkook” Taehyung lowers his voice, brushing his hand against his face and holding his breath for a moment. He really wants to scream, he wants to jump over the table and slap some sense into him but he doesn't think that method would get him anywhere.
“Please start acting like you have some goddamn sense” he pleads. “Have you learned nothing about the last few weeks?”
Jungkook brings his eyes to look up at his best friend, he can see the fear that clings to his stare - perhaps, he wasn't being rational but there was no point in explaining to Taehyung how he didn't see you as a dangerous enemy but rather a deeply broken girl, something he had a hand in creating.
“What is your plan then Taehyung? Storm into her home with a mob of armed men and yank her by the arm and take her away? Is that your magical fucking plan?”
“Im not letting you go alone” Taehyung declares, inching closer to the table.
“I have to” Jungkook responds “i have to handle this myself, she is not my enemy Taehyung, she is not someone you need to protect me from.”
Taehyung scoffs, the adrenaline rushing through him leading him to pace around the room in frustration.
“So she wasn't your enemy when she held a gun at you? When she exposed you and your family for the entire country to see? How long are you going to act like you can fix this!” Taehyung's voice now boomed through the restaurant, the museum of memories.
“Because I can” Jungkook shoots back, his voice matching Taehyung’s, standing from his chair - fists now pressed against the desk.
He had to, if he didn't he knew for sure his father would and he knew the exact methods the man would use - the thought of it alone leading his stomach to twist painfully.
“I want to believe that you are smarter than that Jungkook, you feel guilty? Fine, you were a shitty husband and you did a shit job at protecting her but if you think that for a second that she wont put a bullet in your skull the moment she lays eyes on you then you are clearly out of your fucking mind” Taehyung huffs, his words rambled as if he cant get the words out fast enough.
“She is not something complicated that you need to decipher, she is an enemy through and through, there are no lines to read in between, she will kill you. ”
Another silent blow in Jungkook's gut, another truth hard to digest.
Jungkook does not snap back, instead his eyes travel to Taehyung’s, his stare cold and stern, it defies the truth that has just spilled through his best friends mouth, his actions careless as he grabs his gun and walks towards the front of the restaurant, reaching for the door handle. He feels Taehyung’s grip on his arm which he yanks with ease and he storms out.
The evening air clings to his skin as he rushes out of the restaurant, keys clenched into his fist as if they were to be ripped away from him. He has no plan, no back up - no solution and no words he can offer for you to understand but his steps are hurried because as unprepared as he is, he knows he has to get to you.
Even if you were to hold a gun to his chest, even if you were to kill him - then he’d pay his dues.
Jungkooks breath comes in short gasps, not from exertion nor exhaustion but mere anticipation.
His steps are heavy and loud as he makes a beeline to the SUV parked on the other side of the street. The men that surround the street bow their heads in unison, his soldiers awaiting his next command - their black suit’s now dampened from the cold drizzle that falls from the sky.
Jungkook throws open the door and drops into the driver's seat, his heart ramming into his ribs like a wrecking ball and as he fumbles to start the ignition he looks back at the restaurant, Taehyung stands by the door - a disapproving glare in his eyes along with what Jungkook knows is fear, fear that something might happen to him.
His eyes flicker away and he sets them now on the road before him - the engine roars to life, tires squealing as he pushes his foot down on the accelerator and hes gone, the street becoming a blur as he speeds ahead.
Your face comes to him, a cruel memory. Your widened drunkened eyes, the laughter that bubbled from your chest at even the slightest words that he mustered to let out as if he was funniest man on earth, your swaying body in the middle of your garden and your flushed cheeks, he can still recall how red they were - residue of your activities that night.
And he's back, back to the first time he ever laid eyes on you.
The house is grand, in the way only someone with old money can own - effortless, sprawling, gilded without being garish. I try to compare it to my own but there's something lacking, something that doesn't quite match, a certain warmth that mine lacks, this home is shared, not just lived in.
Characteristics I once yearned for but no longer crave, no longer need because im no longer a child.
The air smells faintly of cigar and imported cologne, heavy with the subtle power struggle between the men that sit before me and my father.
I find myself inside the home’s drawing room, I sit stiffly beside my father. The conversation being held formal, clipped - serious. It's always the same kind of conversations. land, partnerships, legacy. things that I have no concern over because I, myself have never had a legacy, and what I do get is usually so easily thrown in my face. Like a sword that dips into me softly at first and then gets ripped out mindlessly.
I bear no worry to keep anything for I own nothing.
I catch a wift of the alcohol glass in my hand, a grimace subtly flashing through my expression at the brown liquid that has been poured there. The smell is sharp and pungent yet my father regards this as ‘the good stuff’.
I really don’t get it, why people drink, why they would choose to numb themselves into stupidity.
Yet my father pours it into my cup with pride and whispers “you are a man now”, like that means something to me. The bitter liquor dances on my tongue before I allow it to drain down my throat, it burns and still i dont feel like a man.
I nod in struggled gratitude as if I enjoy it, as if i can pick on the good this liquid holds and for some reason that makes my father smile.
“So when will we partner again?” my father asks, a low chuckle following suit. his question was directed towards the man who sits across from us, whose house we are currently visiting.
I’ve never seen this man before but my father insists on calling him ‘an old friend’, someone who has been in the ‘game’ as long as him, someone my father had started his crime syndicate with, though nothing about this meeting feels familiar. just shades of politeness and power, like 2 lions circling the same prey. The man has sharp eyes and a lingering smirk that has not left his face since my father and I arrived, I can only conclude it's because he’s eager to exude trust but it only manages to make my skin crawl.
The man calls out my name, disregarding the question that my father has made and which hangs in the air almost menacingly , my eyes dart in his direction, something in his tone causing me to grow uneasy.
“Do you plan to take over the family business someday?”
It's a question I've heard more than once but never seem to have the answer for. if i say yes it makes me feel like an imposter, it's not my inheritance. this is not my family, yet i cant bring myself to say no, not when its all the man who sits besides me can seem to prepare me for.
From beside me I hear my father chuckle, low and arrogant, polished with just enough control to feel unsettling deliberate.
"Of course he will,” he interjects, letting his hand fall harshly upon my shoulder, my body leaning down into the weight of his touch.
The man, whose name I don't remember now, grins from across the table. His smile soft, his eyes crinkling at the edges and his voice carrying the mellow tone of someone who’s used to being listened to.
“Good” he declares as if we were waiting for his approval.
For the first time I allowed my eyes to remain on him. His clothes are simple yet expensive, different from the suit my father and I wear. It projects humility without sacrificing his status. He leans forward slightly, as if eager to hear what we have to say.
It's when I notice he’s been tense since our arrival, his movements appearing rehearsed, curated as though he wants to make us feel comfortable. He speaks of loyalty, opportunity, growth with ease but behind his tendered tone, behind the gentleness in his words he hides the unshakable sense of manipulation.
His kindness is like the suit my father wears - tailored, strategic, and easily shed when he gets what he wants.
“You know I've gone legitimate now” his words are directed towards my father now, answering the question he had so easily ignored before. A silent confirmation that he would answer it when he wanted to, the smirk spreading further across his face.
“After all this time? After all, everything you do have is only because of the hard work of your father, grandfather and his father before him” my father states bitterly “if anything this would be a slap on the face to them”.
I direct my stare back to the man and for a moment his expression shifts to one of distaste, the same one I had made when the cognac in my glass had met my lips.
“Times have changed Jeon” he remarks, referring to my father by his last name. “my legacy should be backed by honor and respect not blood”.
“And what if you fail?” My father shoots back and I furrow my eyes in confusion at my fathers eagerness to point out the man's potential failure. It's like he is drooling at the mere thought that this man will someday fall apart.
‘Old friends’ the words ring in my ear, what kind of friendship is that?
The air turns tense and I finally consider taking a drink from the glass willingly.
“Dont worry” he shrugs “there is always a back up plan.”
His eyes flinch over to the family portrait that hangs on his wall, in the portrait a younger version of the man is presented along with a young woman who stands besides him, in her arms a small little girl barely 2 years old, her dress is pink.
Both men laugh in unison, yet I don't understand the joke.
My eyes drift back to the picture, studying the small child there. She might be the same age as me given the youth in the man's face when the picture was taken, much like my father’s when he picked me up from that bloodied floor in that decaying home.
She wasn’t present during my arrival, just the man and his wife.
The obnoxious heavy cackles of the men fill the room and yet the apprehensive atmosphere perdures. I can't help but feel like there's something sinister behind the joke the man has just made regarding his family. What was collateral? And why did he stare at his family portrait while saying it?
I wait until the laughter subsides, allowing for the glee to ease through the tension then lean forward slightly, politely like my father always taught me or rather patronized me.
“Excuse me” I interrupted, “I just need to use the bathroom.”
I don't wait for their approval, I stand up carefully as if I were standing near landmines, careful not to rush, giving them the illusion of calmness though there's not a cell in my body that wants to remain a minute further in this room .
I can feel my fathers cold, stern gaze as I make my way towards the door . It's a warning, a silent "don't ever do that again” but he doesn’t move a muscle to protest and I thank the gods silently for it. Under different circumstances, he would’ve interrupted my escape and negated me the freedom I so dearly desired, pressing his heavy hand on my shoulder and shoving me back to my seat. A stern ‘you can wait’ falling from his mouth.
The moment I slip out of the room I feel the strain around me lift, a cold breeze after suffocating heat. A small sigh leaves me, relief.
My eyes scan every corner of the home as if it were a museum for my enjoyment, my footsteps echoing as I wonder past arched doorways, past oil paintings and silent servants who wait patiently to be called upon.
As I make my way to the first floor the guards who stand at the corners in stiffened composure don't even flinch, I was not a threat to them but I was also just a stranger roaming their bosses home at late hours of the night. Perhaps, my father had been right, perhaps we were allies to a certain extent.
I roamed and moved around the foreign halls until I came face to face with the back of the home. It looked like a private sanctuary if anything. Its greatness and luxury is the kind that exudes elegance and of course, money.
There was no denying this man had money and an abundant amount.
I recalled my fathers statement of how the man would have to thank his father and his fathers father. This was generational wealth unlike my fathers and perhaps that was the sour feeling that accompanied him. The ache of knowing that next to this man my father was but an ant, insignificant.
The sweeping stone terrace frames around a rectangular pool that glistens under the moon light. Decorated with manicured bushes and lounge chairs that have been placed with exact precision. Beyond the pool, the ground drops to a sculptured garden, neatly clipped hedges and winding stone paths.
Everything is curated, not a leaf out of place. It's a courtyard, subtly screaming its worth and the only thing that comes to mind is how exhausting it must be for it to hold its composure. Its elegance is exhausting. I can imagine the employees bustling through each morning, ensuring everything appeared tidy and clean.
How much has this man invested in bushes?
My attention is drawn to the phone buzzing in my pocket, the soft hum of incoming text messages alerting me to my undeliberate gawking. I slip the phone out of my pocket and stare at the incoming thread of messages.
Tae: paris on another level
Jin: You're in Paris now?
Tae: yeah dads meetings were boring
Jin: You were just in cabo?
It doesn't take long before a huff escapes me accompanied by the roll of my eyes. I was used to Taehyung's antics and Jin’s constant surprise of his carelessness or rather lack of parental control. From the 3 of us, he was who most enjoyed his life. Carrying himself with an ease neither Jin and I could afford to.
I stand a moment longer, attempting to regain some sense of will to return back to that god awful suffocating room. If I took too long then my father would only grow more irritated towards me. perhaps triggering another yelling match, where he would throw the past 10 years in my face and I would reserve my words in hopes that it would deter him from berating me.sometimes i wish he had left me on that bloodied floor.
And sometimes I'm grateful he didn't.
From the deepest part of my mind I was brought back by a shuffle from some of the bushes, the yard had been kept so well that it was hard to miss. The small intrusion caused my eyes to linger on it, for a moment convincing myself it could be a squirrel or a raccoon looking for its next meal but this wasn’t the kind of place where these animals would go unchecked.
Was someone there and if so, was my life in danger?
My body stiffened, turning my stare back to the opened doors behind me. I should go warn the men that line the corridors but before I can move an inch, my eyes glimpse back to the bushes and from within them I can make out a figure.
It's not a masked man holding an assault rifle, ready to unload its clip into me but rather a female, her frame small and clumsy.
She stumbled out of the perfect greenery, barefoot in the grass, soft mumbles accompanied by sweet giggles and quivered hiccups that forced her body forward.
Her dress clung to her like a shadow, half elegance, half recklessness. her heels dangled from her right hand as she stumbled towards me. I stood motionless, breathless.She was an abnormality in the neatly kept home.
Before I could even blink, the girl stumbled harshly, her legs giving out from beneath her, whilst her body flung forward and she landed on her face. a loud and pained groan muffled by the grass erupting from within her. I hesitate, my heart racing as I stare at her limp body and before I can register what I'm doing, my legs take me towards her with hurried steps.
My eyebrows knit in confusion whilst I take her in. Did she shush me? I wasn't even being loud. If anything, she's the one being disruptive.
“Are you drunk?” I want to ask her if she’s crazy but I don't.
The mixture of her delicate flower perfume and alcohol grasp me from where I stand above her, answering the question I had thrown out before she could even open her mouth. She lifts her head a few inches but her eyes remain shut.
“Uhm” i hum, i cant bring myself to recall the owner's name, the one he had given me whilst he shook my hand and i had forgotten with indifference.
A loud sigh flows through her and she pushes herself from the floor, stumbling on her way up. I hold my arm out which she avoids completely and I refrain from scoffing. Why do I intend to help her? If anything, I should call the guards on this stranger.
Sound the alarm, bring out the guards and the guard dogs, call upon helicopters who will flash their bright lights on her. Leading the house to go up in chaos but i dont do either. I'm not even sure the man has a helicopter but he seems like the kind of man who does.
“Who are you?” This time her eyes are open though they are low, fluttering under the influence of the alcohol that consumes her mind. Her judgemental tone irks me, she dares to look at me like that as if she weren’t an intruder and i a guest?
But I'm quickly drawn away from that emotion when my eyes meet with hers.
Her pupils stood dilated, her eyes large and dark, glassed with intoxication. They reflected the lights around us and gifted them back to me. Stray hairs framed her face, clinging onto her temples and exposed neck where the chilled air of the night had mixed with the droplets of water from the grass she had landed on. Her lashes were long and wisped, her eyebrows gently arched as if bringing them closer could help her concentrate on my own features.
Her face is delicate and dew, her skin glowing with the faint warmth of her choice of alcohol this night, a rosy flush touching her cheeks and enveloping her nose. Her lips, full and tinted by a peached gloss, curving into a smile that exuded tenderness and inexperience.
Something in my chest shifted, almost unpredictably but it was there and I could sense it though I could not describe it. She brought forth a certain urge inside of me to protect, to aid. Her presence was a blend of fragility and wildness all at the same time and even if I tried to break away from her stare I couldn't bring myself to blink away.
I felt foolish, embarrassed. She brought forth a feeling no other person had been able to bring out of me, not even my father with his harsh words and it made me want to shrink in place.
“Are you a new body guard?” she asked in annoyance, as if somehow my very existence was an inconvenience to her.
“Ugh, I literally jumped over 2 fences to avoid you.”
My eyes trailed to where her dress ended just above her knees, the fresh bruises forming there serving as evidence that she did in fact jump through fences to avoid detection from anyone in this home.
“In new valentino!” she shrieked once again, holding up the shiny black pair of heels in her hand.
She was no stranger to this home, perhaps I was the intruder. It all clicked like a puzzle that had been forming in my mind. puzzle pieces i had lost sight of when i laid my eyes on her. She was the little girl in the family portrait. The man’s daughter, the collateral.
Spoiled and filthy fucking rich.
“Im not-” I began, readying to protest her claim but she continued to ramble, speaking over my hushed words.
“Please don't tell my dad” she pleaded and an instant I could feel her sobering over the possibility of being caught. She lunged forward, her hands coming to cling onto my shoulders and the desperation in her eyes caused my own to widen in panic.
“Please” her voice trembled.
She probably always got what she wanted. I could tell by her freshly manicured hands that gripped my suit jacket with so much force I could swear the thread was becoming undone under it and her french perfume, the one that came and went like waves the closer she stood in front of me.
Much like this courtyard, I could tell she was usually well maintained, hair done with precision, outfits selected by top designers and her friends, a bunch of snobs and stuck up oxygen thiefs.
I hated people like her, those who never had to work for anything because they got everything they wanted, living life as if it held no restraints for them. Taehyung was like her in many ways but he was different, he was humble and caring. Sure, he indulged in the finer things because they were within his reach but he didnt brag, he didnt whine like her.
Perhaps, i was a hyprocite.
I lifted my hands and grasped onto hers, the swift motion causing her to gasp. I pulled her hands off from me and brought her touch away from my shoulder. In my grasp her hands felt small, delicate, and cold.
“I am not your body guard” my tone was stern, gripped with annoyance and distaste.
We came from different worlds, this girl and I. she was loved and tended to, she was brought into this life carefully whilst i had been ripped away from mine and forced to fit into mine.
Her eyes blinked quickly, almost in amazement but surely with shock. She was probably never told no, never denied her desires, her life filled with ‘yes ma’am’ and willingness.
I let go of her hands and turned on my heel, making my way back to the mansion before me. For a moment the only sound was of my shoes destroying the perfectly trimmed grass under it, that is until I heard her hurried and short strides following behind me.
“Hey!” She called out, her voice raised enough to probably catch the attention of those inside.
“HEY” She repeated, though I did not turn.
“I would be a bit quieter if I were you” I responded, an unseen smirk forming on my lips. Why was I being such an asshole? It's not like I really did care if she was caught or not, i didnt know her but for some reason it brought me some satisfaction bringing her even a miniscule amount of inconvenience.
“Wouldn’t want the princess to get caught” my words were sharp and filled with the same vile tone that my father had used to question the man’s success.
“Who the fuck are you then?” She shouted, the curse that fell from her lips surprising me momentarily. What was her deal? Was she a snobby girl who pretended to be relatable to those beneath her?
I could feel her getting closer, only confirmed when she grabbed onto my arm and yanked me back harshly. The motion irritated me, my jaw locking as i felt my body shift under her touch.
I turned my attention to her now, my body coming to a full stop, I glared down at her. my expression gripped with annoyance and hatred. Did I really hate her that much? Not really, again i didnt really know her but i didnt like to be manhandled and not by a spoiled little girl at that.
“I’ll scream” she threatened “I’ll scream and my men would be here in seconds and trust me jack ass, you’ll be in a jail cell faster than you can blink”.
In the back of my mind I imagined jail was the least of my concerns, these men who lined the halls of this grand home were not the kind to call on the police to aid them in handling an intruder. I could see it in their eyes as I walked past them. If this girl opened her mouth to scream, to voice any kind of complaint my life would be over.
I raised my eyebrows, amusement bubbling inside of my chest , a sly smile the only evidence of it.
“Do it” I dared, “I have nothing to lose but you?”
A chuckle escaped me with ease.
“You jumped 2 fences to avoid being found out.”
I watched as her stare faltered, the grip she kept on my shirt loosening for a moment.
“I’ll be in jail but you’ll probably be locked up in this mansion for life.”
Her mouth opened as if she wanted to say something but as the seconds passed, the words never came.
I reach for my suit jacket and snatch it out of her grip once again, turning away from her pleading eyes. as i turn i catch the subtle glint of a light, which beams off of the surface besides us, its source coming from within the home - a flashlight.
“Shit!” the girl whispers and then my body is brought down with force and I land on my back harshly, all air stripped from my lungs on impact. I'm not sure if it's the way my body collapses onto the ground that leaves me shocked or the fact that she had been strong enough to cause me to.
“Fuckkkk” I groaned but before I could inhale again, her body was on top of mine, her delicate chilled hand tightly clasped over my mouth.
“Dont you fucking dare move” she whispers but i cant focus. Not while her chest presses against mine, our breaths synchronized,her scent now on my clothes. Her stare piercing as the bodyguard who had managed to get us in this position stepped into the ample yard. The light bouncing from one side to the other.
She buries her face into my neck, the warmth of her breath bringing chills down my spine and my eyes subconsciously flutter shut at the sensation. My heartbeat untamed and brisk, my cheeks growing warm against hers and my arms come up to envelope her against me, as if out of habit.
Again i am a fool, again i am embarrassed of the comfort she seems to so easily bring me, one i cant bring to negate myself. She is like an open door i dont think twice to enter.
We were both in this together now, wherever she hid I would hide too.
Time moved slower here on this patch of finely cut grass, though I'm sure the bodyguard had left long ago. We laid there motionless, only the sound of her heart pounding on my chest and my slow unsteady breaths evidence of life.
She raised her head almost as if our thoughts were in sync and then she looked down on me, her eyes stealing me away. The fierceness and determination in her stare throwing me off my thoughts.
“I don't know who you are nor do I know what your intentions are but you are the only one who can help me get to my room” she huffed, her chest rising and falling with the adrenaline running through her “so ill trust you.”
The words melted into my brain like honey, they caused my heart to jump from my chest, absurd i know.
“Can I trust you?” she breathed.
I nodded slowly like a child, losing sight of my will and of my resolve. She slowly retracted her hand from my mouth, giving me the gift of air once again.
She clears her throat, her eyes slowly trailing down to look at our intertwined bodies and just as fast as we had collapsed on the ground, we were back on our feet. Awkwardly adjusting our clothes and dusting off the dampened dirty on the fabric.
I couldn't bring myself to look away from her, though her very presence was the embodiment of all things I despised, I couldn't let her out of my sight. my eyes tracing her every movement, a toxic trance.
“So how do we get you there?” I asked, my tone reluctant though I was far from it.
“My room is on the third floor” she informed me as if it was nothing. “there's 2 ways to get there, either we use the main corridors and stares or” she halted her words and her eyes narrowed.
“Or we go in the same way i left” she pressed her lips nervously and i stood expectantly though i had no doubt that by her expression, I wouldn’t particularly enjoy her master plan.
She takes my hand in hers swiftly and she pulls me forward, my feet stumbling as I keep up with her hurried steps. Her hair bounced and flowed as we ran further away from the yard. Though the house appeared to be grand, she moved around with ease. she knew the home like the back of her hand.
We came to a stop at the side of the home, both breathless. I looked up, my eyes meeting with the various windows there. My eyes landed on the rope like bundle of sheets spilling out of one of them and I needed no further explanation, a chuckle bubbling through my chest.
“Are you sure?” I murmured, careful as to not call the attention of yet another guard.
“Yes” she nodded “just help me up.”
“Dont you have like a service entrance or something?” I asked, shit i had one and i was sure in this big ass house that she had one too. I then realized that the question itself sounded entitled.
She shook her head and sighed “too risky.”
The house seemed to hold its breath with us. She stood in front of me, turning so that her back was now facing me. I brought my hands up but stopped for a moment, as if asking for silent permission. She turned her head slightly as if checking on me and I nodded my head before encompassing her waist with my hands. The action was insignificant but being all I could bring myself to focus on.
I raised her up until she could securely grasp the makeshift rope. I kept my body grounded to the floor, the endless days of working out and lifting weights in the gym serving as support to keep her body steady.
She pulled herself with ease, using the home to plant her feet and climb up. I could hear her soft giggles pour from her frame and for a moment I had forgotten that she was utterly drunk.
She hauled herself through the opening of her window, a sigh of relief escaping her when the sill met her hips, then spilled into the room with a gasp.
Seconds later, her head popped her head from the window, hair spilling over one eye, cheeks backlit and flushed. “Come” she said, not demanding or arrogantly, but offering. mischief entangled with her words.
“Come in after me” she requested.
I hesitated; my job here was done, I had kept my word, and I could easily walk back into the home. I was an invited guest after all. I didn't have to hide or sneak around but my eyes looked back to the place we had just come from as if i was a thief, someone who much like her would find myself in a problem if i was caught.
the way she called for me as if we were no longer strangers but old friends who had met once again after a long time, it made me doubt my own conscience.
I tried to rationalize, to be logical but I wanted nothing more than to be in her company again, as stupid as that sounded. I smiled up at her. A crooked, uncertain smile and took the blanket in my hands. I struggled at first, my movements struggled unlike hers. She stretched out her hand as if she somehow could muster the strength to pull me inside, but I took it, knowing she could let me fall.
When I swung through the window, the room received me warmly, my landing clumsy, lacking confidence. She laughed, the sound disarming and familiar. The scent of her perfume and vanilla lingering in the air. I turned to her, a soft chuckle escaping me. the rush of what I had just done caused me to grow dizzy.
It was the only thing I could bring myself to say whilst I tried to regain my composure and my breath. In that instant the only thing that came to mind was how free I felt. My entire life had been spent choosing my words and my actions carefully so as to not be ungrateful, as to not disturb the idea of a home I was granted but now, it felt as though I could eat the world in one bite.
I felt like Taehyung must feel, free and able.
Nothing mattered, not my father nor the business, it didn't matter if I was brave or ruthless, if I could tell the difference between an AR-15 or a Sig mcx.
Here I was just a foolish and ignorant teenager.
I noted the girl sway, her eyes fluttering whilst her hand reached forward towards her desk behind her. I recalled why we were here in the first place. She had sneaked out, probably meeting with friends and sneaking into a club or bar she was too young to enter but she had money and connections and that was something that came easily to her, access. I know because I did, I know because I could. She had been drinking heavily. Her hand slipped clumsily and I could tell she was preparing to take yet another stumble, I leaned forward quickly and placed my hand on her back, the other on her arm.
I had now grown accustomed to this stranger's touch and I was sure she could say the same.
We were once again pressed closely against each other but my heart beat more steady now as I swayed along with her slowly.
“Its okay” i nodded, my hand rose like to it was a habit to and slowly removed some hair strands that hung over her face, once my eyes met with her shut ones i could feel my heart begin to drum anxiously once again, the embarrassment of her noticing leading my cheeks to grow warm.
“Can you take me to my bed?”
I nodded my head as if she could see me but her eyes remained shut in drunken bliss. I still didn't understand why someone would drink this much or even be able to digest alcohol, god knows i couldn’t even stand the taste it left my mouth but i no longer felt the desire to judge her, i think i had done enough of that for the night.
My head turned as I tried to find balance in our shuffled steps, I carefully moved us towards her bed that was adorned by short dresses still in hangers and pillows.
“Y’know” you are the first guy that has come to my room” she giggled whilst i sat her on the edge.
“Well I can understand with all the security around here” I joked nervously.
“I'm glad it's you” she huffed, my hands reaching for her comforter.
I scoffed as I looked down at her crooked smile.
“I'm just a stranger,” I clarified and she didn't answer, allowing the truth to linger in the air between us.
I laid her down slowly and tucked her inside her bed, watching as the large blanket took her in warmly. She extended her hand out to me, a sheepish grin now appearing in front of me, her eyes wide open now.
“I’m Y/n” she announced with excitement.
The drunken spoiled girl now had a name, a soft smile appeared on my face and I sighed, looking up at the clock by her nightstand. It was late, later than what my father had planned to stay.
“Well, im Jungkook” I whispered but once my eyes found her again, soft snores poured from her parted lips, her cheek pressed against the pillow under her head.
I stepped away slowly, my eyes remaining on her for a moment longer before turning away. The wall in front of me was lined with torn pieces of magazines, idols and famous actors. scrapped pictures of dresses from runway shows and photographs of her and her friends in which she smiled brightly and carelessly.
She was different from me, she held meaningful space in the lives of others. she had no concern for all the dark things that occurred in this world, never bearing witness to the world that I so eagerly had been introduced to, she hadn’t seen people be tortured or offed for betraying my father. Never had to gravel for safety and air in her lungs.
She didn't hunger for shelter or love like me and yet, I could feel a loneliness much like mine but I was just trying to find ways in which she and I were the same. Familiarities that could somehow explain the sudden attraction i felt towards her. Realistically we were magnets whose magnetization directions were misaligned, unable to connect.
I reached for one of the pictures, she stood alone and held a bouquet of flowers in her arms, roses and tulips tied together in a harmonious bouquet. She wore a ballerina costume and offered the camera a tight lipped smile, a bun sleekly tied just a bit above her head. Her features were clearer in it and I drew a map of it in my mind which I later on would come back to recollect when I most needed to remember her. I stared at it for a moment, taking the simplicity and the beauty. I folded it and slid into my pocket.
Amongst the carelessness that gripped me, the feeling of uncertainty settled and the joke that had been made earlier now sat menancingly in my head.
It rang through my ears on a constant loop, as if my body was forcing me to hear something that had been unsaid. As I traced my eyes back to Y/n, I spotted the same picture that hung above the man's office sitting on her nightstand.
The father, the mother, and the collateral.
It was an assumption of course, I couldn't really know what he meant by it or if he really meant it, he did laugh after all. But I, unlike her, had seen all the shadows in this world, it had allowed me to see how evil people could really be, how merciful and selfish someone could become under certain circumstances. Unfortunately the assumption I was making was not too far fetched from what I had in my short life been able to witness.
A memory plopped itself in my head smoothly, wrapping itself in my consciousness as if it had just happened though if I recall correctly a few months had passed since then. My father and I sat in his office, he went over his long list of tasks. ‘Going over the numbers’ he would say and sometimes when he spoke like that it seemed as though he ran a legitimate business.
The man who had burst into the office then had hollow eyes, his emaciated figure bouncing against the dark oak door which he pushed close forcibly. He breathed heavily as if he had been running for miles, sweat dripping from his forehead. I had perked up quickly in alarm, my widened eyes looking from my father back to the man.
My father had not reacted, remaining calm and collected. His glasses still hanging from the bridge of his nose.
“Yes?’ he asked in a rather annoyed tone as if the presence of the man pestered him. He didn't even bother looking up from the pile of documents in front of him and it was then I realized that my father was familiar with the man.
“Mr. Jeon” the man spoke faintly, unable to catch his breath even then.
“Ive told you not to come to my office” my father raised his stare, cold and resentful.
“I-i understand” the man nodded “b-but you wouldn’t answer my calls and i-i needed to speak with you.”
“Go on” my father huffed, laying down the paper in his hand.
“I am able to repay you” the man almost begged.
“And how will you be doing that Tokamoto?” my father smirked “you owe my club more than you can afford and i know that because you’ve recently lost your job” he hummed knowingly “due to your habits.”
The man wiped his forehead, his skin grey and glossed with addiction. He managed a deep breath and I noticed his whole body tremble under my fathers glare.
“My daughter” was a whisper at first, his words breaking at the bare mention.
Perhaps I was too young to know what that meant at the time but there was a side of me that might have never wanted to know. I blinked slowly and allowed a heavy sigh to leave me and I was back to Y/n’s room.
The wheels screeched loudly as the SUV came to a halt, Jungkook’s body jerking forward. From the driver's seat he could see the property standing before him.
The home was built of dark metal and natural stone, with clean rectangular structure. Floor - to - ceiling windows wrapped around it, giving it a modern appearance. Jungkook stepped out carefully, eyes scanning every corner, waiting for any abrupt movement but everything seemed to hush in his presence.
The home, the air around him.
As he neared the entrance path, his hand moved towards the gun placed inside his waistband. He had no plans to use it, not on Y/n nonetheless but he couldn’t shake the Erie feeling that rolled through his spine and the complete stillness that encompassed the home.
There were no men standing guard from outside and though it made it easier for him to access the property now, it could only mean something terrible must have happened or was he just looking too deeply into it, perhaps you must have decided against having them there.
When he neared the door, he felt his stomach drop to his feet. The sudden burst caused his eyes to widen.
The door remained agape, the hinges scratched and dented as if opened by force, he reached out his hand pushing it all the way open, the squeak of the heavy wooden door causing echoes inside.
The sudden urge to run inside took over him but he knew better than that.
Was it a trap? Did Jin warn Y/n?
His steps were careful, methodical. He drew out his gun and held it close to chest, his eyes moving from side to side as he moved further into the house, finger sitting absently on the trigger.
Everything appeared in place and yet, like nothing belonged. If Y/n had left then why had the door been forced? And if nothing was wrong then why were his nostrils now overwhelmed with the metallic and overpowering odor of fresh blood.
“Fuck” his voice trembled desperately.
Jungkook’s hands began to shake,his chest began to cave the closer he got that scent.
From beneath his feet the sound of broken shards of glass popped under the pressure of his steps but he didn’t dare look down. Fearful he would find your body laying in a puddle of blood, your empty eyes staring back at him. He had seen dead people before, he had killed people before but he couldn't stomach the thought of seeing you like that, he began to feel insanity creep inside his brain.
He stopped moving, pressing his body against the wall of the corridor he found himself in - closing his eyes tightly.
Fear consumed him entirely in a way he had never felt before, not when he held a gun in his hands for the first time, not when he stood in front of his father awaiting another beating, not when he waited to hear if his deal with your father had been accepted.
What if you were dead? It was all his fault, he wanted to scream, to run, to collapse…
Where were you? How much time had passed from when these events occurred?
With a deep breath, he continued his sweep of the home until he found himself in the living room and only then , did he come face to face with the darkest of his thoughts.
It was a war zone, the long windows that once wrapped the space in sunlight, now gapping wounds in the walls, jagged teeth of glass still clinging to the frames. Its shards spread across the polished floor and onto the furniture there.
The wind blew into the room bitterly, causing the remains of the overturned furniture to squeak against its chill.
The coffee table split in two and the sofa thrown backwards, its white stuffing spilling out. bullet holes decorating the walls in a sinister array, their edges dark and splintered.
On the floor, streaks of dark crimson blood spread on various areas and Jungkook couldn’t bring himself to draw a breath in, his mouth held ajar at the aftermath of what could only be described as slaughter.
“Y/n” he yelled, his voice rasped.
“Y/n” he repeated, louder this time.
His voice roared through the home, his eyes growing blurred with the tears that swelled there. He didn't want to cry, not right now. In this moment he had to pull himself together and look through the other rooms in hopes you had been swift enough to hide somewhere, somewhere no one could hurt you.
In the home you once shared together there had been secret rooms and passages for this exact reason, there were escape routes and even tunnels leading into other properties nearby. He had always been prepared for the worst, he had always been prepared to protect you but he doubted you were able to measure the seriousness in all of this.
You were unable to foresee how indifferent his father was to your life.
The sound of the front door being pushed rang through the home once again and he lifted his gun quickly, eyes sharp as he stood from his sitting position. His chest filled with rage as he moved towards the front of the home once again.
Had the attackers returned for something? Or the cleaners, the ones his father would usually hire to get rid of evidence and dead bodies at crime scenes. He was not proud to say that he too hired them when needed. Acknowledging that felt bitter and for a moment he recognized how similar they both were.
His finger pressed on the trigger, allowing a bullet to ring out and hit the wall next to the door. A warning to whomever dared go through that threshold. Logically, it was stupid. If those men had returned then he could be easily outnumbered, it was only him and his now 5 bullets and he knew his father would send more than 10 men when he considered something important.
He knew killing you was important to his father.
“Jungkook!” he recognized the voice immediately, his stare faltering for a moment.
“Its fucking me you fucking bastard” Taehyung popped his head from the wall he was leaning against. Jungkook lowered his gun and a sigh left him with ease. Taehyung moved from where he had taken cover and walked towards Jungkook.
“You are drunk and beligerent” Taehyung lectured “acting on your own, you are a fucking dumbass!”
Taehyung wanted to go further but his words were cut off when he looked behind Jungkook. His eyes trailed the blood and glass on the floor, taking in every bullet hole on the wall. His heart plummeted into this stomach, a vile liquid rising up his throat.
“Kook” Taehyung searched Jungkook's eyes “is she?” but he couldn't even bring himself to ask, as if the question itself were a transgression. He sighed, putting his hand on Jungkook's shoulder. A gesture of support, more to himself than to his friend.
“No bodies,” Jungkook responded coldly.
“Just shattered glass and blood marks.”
“Okay” Taehyung nodded, a small chuckle falling from his mouth “okay, that's good, no bodies mean she probably got away” Taehyung felt a bit of relief though Jungkook could not share it.
“Or she didnt” Jungkook snapped “she could be somewhere else being tortured.”
Taehyung didn't reply because he couldn't bring himself to say that was impossible. Nothing was out of the realm of possibility in these kinds of situations, when his father was involved in something.
There was a soft buzz that carried through the hall, both men snapped their necks looking for the direction of the almost faint sound. Their hearts turning into themselves in unison. They both lifted their guns in almost perfect synchronicity.
“Ill take the stairs up the second floor” Jungkook decided, his eyes scanning the home once more.
Taehyung threw his head back and groaned, lowering his weapon once more.
“Jungkook, it's your phone,” he clarified.
Only then Jungkook felt the vibrating sensation against his leg. He shoved his hand into his front pocket and looked at the number, unable to recognize the digits but he answered anyway, turning to walk towards the front door.
It was his father, his body jolted at the familiar sound of his voice.
His father produced a cold and baleful chuckle.
“Oh your wife?” His tone was mocking, bringing anger to Jungkook’s chest.
honestly I don't even know what to say, please bear with me if there are any typos. it was a bit difficult for me to get back to my groove.
© 𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.
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