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The sound of heels hitting the floor resonated, from the hallways walls. A steady rhythm of steps, till they halted in front of a white painted door. Pale hands plugged a key into the designated area and pushed it around twice. The clicking sound of the lock, signaled the open door. A push of the door handle opened the door and let the woman enter. She stripped off her jacket and scarf, bent down to unzip her boots and discard them to the side. Right underneath her rack of coats. Her life had left deep lines next to both eyes, the middle of her forehead and around her mouth. A mouth that had been smiling and laughing so much, that the corners of her lips had a natural upturn. However nothing about that woman looked happy. Exhaustion seemed to have found home in her bones and muscles, sadness a permanent fixed state, hidden behind kind blue eyes. Deep in her thoughts, she did not notice the unusual silence. The lack of her husband's demand for dinner and his alcoholic state. No, it was deathly silent in the apartment, the little hope of him not being home rising to her mind. Dragging herself away from the front door and towards the living-room, she saw him passed out on the sofa. All hope dying at the tip of her tongue, as the smile that had wanted to spread on her lips, shied away once again. Vanishing into the locked treasure box of her emotions, in the depth of her soul.
You watched her, holding onto the fire escape. Not a sound was made, as your glove clad fingers clenched tighter around the metal, of the ladder. The woman inside of the apartment was your mother and the man who was passed out on the couch was her husband. A man you'd never had the misfortune of meeting, nor the fortune of warning your mother to stay clear of. You hadn't seen her, ever since you had hit the tender age of 17. Instead you were now forced to watch your mother. Watch her as she prepared a dinner, that the man on the couch did not deserve. Watched as all the happiness you knew she was capable of feeling, was slowly dying silently. Thinner, paler and older than your memories had kept her alive for you. Your lips in a thin line, brows furrowed and fists clenched, emotions did not make an appearance any further. For any bystander, you'd look like a woman, who excoriated men like that and pitied women like that. No one would ever know, of the restrains you had to put on yourself, to not barge into the apartment. To not break the man's neck and free your mother of him, once and for all. For now all you could do was watch and think of your next steps. Your freedom had been hard earned and any misstep could lead into imprisonment once again. You'd be of no use to your mother, if you were back in a holding cell and leather cuffs.
Deciding you'd seen enough, you climbed nimbly up the ladder and onto the roof of the building. Disappearing into the dark night, as if you'd never been there in the first place. Merging perfectly with the night sky and starless firmament above.The place you picked to sit and think, most would not have chosen. As a club filled with people, roaring despicable music and overpriced drinks, did not scream “thinking atmosphere”. However as someone, who'd been watched for 7 years, a place of anonymity was what you were looking for. While drinks and money did mean nothing to you, at the same time. Incomparable to the seventeen year old girl, who'd have loved to enter such an estate, celebrate with her friends and get lost in a strangers arms for a night. Reality had punched you severally, left you bruised and bloody at the doorstep of death, for someone to take pity on you. Sitting on one of the many stools in front the bar, you let your cheek rest on your arm. While your finger traced the rim of your glass, the bartender had just refilled. To your right was a young woman, who was barely older than eighteen and from her clothes quite rich. She was heartbroken too, as she had asked for a double shot of Tequila, with a broken voice. Holding a simple silver band with a small diamond in the middle, between two fingers. Downing shot after shot. Her dark blue eyes, were caught in the ring's reflection of the lights.
She'd be an easy target for some sleaze, looking for an easy picking. Making you wonder, when you'd started seeing people like that. When you had started watching them, trying to read their lives in the way they presented themselves. When you'd gotten so observant, that the knowledge of the other person in front of you, didn't even register as another person. Much to your dismay and less to your surprise, someone approached the brown haired girl. He was tall, would be towering over you, if he stood in front of you. His shoulders were squared and chest pushed out. He was out to get some. Hair disheveled to look sexy and wild, his jeans paired with a crisp white shirt, rolled up to the elbows. No doubt, he'd read the Cosmo for that tip. However he should have also read the “If a woman says no, she means no” part, of that god awful magazine. The brown haired girl said “No” twice, once silently as he'd leaned down to whisper to her. The second time a little louder and more defined, trying to pull her wrist from his tight grip. He was pissing you off, more than he should have. After all, this was none of your business and you could not get caught up in a club fight. Yet something about that brown haired girl, with dark blue eyes and tear streaks on her face, hit too close to home. You got up from your stool and turned to the man, tapping his shoulder. “She said 'No'” you told him, as he faced you. “And who are you? Her mom?” he snapped, obviously angered by your interference. A loud exhale of boredom escaped your lips, making his frown deepen even further. “Why are douchebags like you, even allowed to breathe?” you asked him in return, raising one single eyebrow. He was getting pissed off, at this point fueling into the side you were suppressing. The side inside of you, that wanted to bury her fist, into someone's skin and bruise it.
He let go of the brunette and turned his attention to you, as you'd expected towering over you. “Look lady.”his voice reminding you of an angry gorilla, raised to be heard over the sound of the music. “I don't care where you came from, but piss the fuck off” for a split second your mind wandered to a wish of chewing gum, simply wanting to taste that minty chewy taste. Yet forced into this useless conversation, with a potential rapist. “I came from a place, where they cut of rapists dicks and feed them those...” it wasn't even a joke, despite the bartenders snort and the brunettes unexpected chuckle, both contributing into rilling him up further. “What did you bitch say?” you were about to answer him and repeat your exact same words once again. When a velvety voice spoke for you, it was a man's voice. Holding a slight scratch to certain syllables, while it was kept calm and smooth in general. “What the lady meant to say was, you should better leave this club. People have been alerted to this situation and I doubt you want to be in trouble...” the man's eyes flickered from the person behind you, to you and the brunette woman. Before wandering to the bartender who had his cellphone in hand, ready to call down security. Tall-and-sleazy decided this wasn't worth seeing the cops over. And left with a grumbling round of courses, pushing your shoulder with his as he passed you. You stood your ground, not moving an inch from the impact, though you were pretty sure it would leave a bruise behind. Still not relaxing despite his leave. Because Mr.Velvety, had appeared behind you, without you noticing. It kept you highly alerted to his presence and the tiny afraid voice – you hadn't heard in years – was back to whisper in your head.
The woman wanted to thank both of you for helping her, but your lifted hand – palm towards her face – stopped her from singing hymn of praises. “You should go back home, throw away every little thing of the scumbag who cheated on you and turn over a new leaf. You are way to young to waste yourself, in a fucked up club like this.” quick glance to the bartender you offered a halfhearted “No offense.”, “None taken”. She scurried away from your scrutinizing glare like expression. Not feeling like clubbing anymore, when she'd just escaped an almost rape, aside from wanting to leave the judging woman's presence behind. The judging one, aka you turned around, to look a the male behind you. He was neat as far as you could tell, holding himself with confidence. His shoulders were broad and stretched the suit's jacket in all perfect ways. While the suit itself seemed to have been sewn onto his body. Everything fitted perfectly, down to the wine-red handkerchief in his suit's breast pocket. His brown hair appeared dark in the lighting of the club and was parted at the right side of his head. Combing all the hair over to the left, in a little spiked heap. Hands pushed into the pockets of his pants, he was eying you just the same. Though you were sure he would not be able to detect a single clue, to you as a person, from what you appeared. Your hair was a complete different color from your natural. Eyes covered with contact lenses, of the exact opposite shade your eyes naturally had. And the clothes you were, could have been of any 24 year old woman in L.A. You wore earrings, a single necklace, a bracelet and a ring. All of these could be seen as personal, could also however be perceived as impersonal. You were interpretational, a guessing game for the observer
You couldn't see if he was wearing a ring, but the watch around his wrist, spoke volumes about his wealth. If the suit itself, didn't already scream wealthy. “I had it handled” were the first words that left your lips. To the man who'd intervened and maybe saved you from exposing yourself. “I know, I was just simply saving the man's life...” he replied and sat down on the stool you had gotten up from. “It's certainly not a punishment, that would have fitted the crime...” of course he'd have to defend the asshole, who would have probably raped that poor girl. His expression stayed calm, as he waved the bartender for a 'the usual', before his voice met your ears once again. Clearer than the shouting of the pig before, despite the rampant music behind you.”A quick death would have been mercy, wasted on a sorry excuse of the male species” that did catch you off guard, which hadn't happened in years. Ever since you'd been trained to expect any surprise turn of events and unimaginable case scenarios. Reaching for the Tequila shot left behind by the girl, you downed it and put the tiny glass back down. Seemingly indifferent to his presence or the occurrences just a few minutes ago, you slapped down money on the bar. “For the drinks, even the gentleman's one...” He had no chance of stopping you, as you vanished in the masses of people around the club. Deciding that a confrontation with your limited luck, was enough for one night. You walked the few blocks to your rented apartment and stripped off your shoes and jacket at the entrance. Hanging up your jacket at the coat rack and putting your shoes on the shelf for them. You'd always been a neat girl, something you'd learned from your mother. A trait your father had loved.
Your bedroom was the next destination and shimming out of your jeans had you lying on the bed. Your back pressed into clean, new, white sheets. Arms outstretched to either side of you in a T position, while your legs touched the floor bent at the knee. You were looking up at the ceiling and watching as the undressed bulb of light dangled down. The light of it was barely of enough force, to be called a light. But enough for you to move around in the room. To say you loved the dark, that you felt home in the blackness of nothingness and silence, would be an understatement. You were back in your hometown, you were back in your old life and yet you couldn't have been further away from it. Past friends and lovers, no longer any meaning to you. Moved on to with their own lives, their own futures, far away from you. Your best friend would probably not even recognize you, if she were to see you now. Which was probably the best for everyone, the less people knew you, the better. Still your mind sauntered to all the information, you'd gathered about all important people in your life. As if to mock your resolve of not involving too many people, into your new found freedom. Remembering how you'd read she was married now, with a small son. That she was happy and working as a lawyer. That she had kept an eye on your mother for you, ever since you'd vanished. Still she could not have seen the bruises, your mother was hiding from the world. Could not have known about your mother's predicament. Because if Hyorin had known? She would have risen hell on that asswipe of a husband.
Your eyes closed and your right arm came up, to lay across your eyes. Only in your tank top and boy shorts, you fell asleep in that position on your bed. Your circumstances of absence, had trained the ability, to sleep wherever however. How to be alert in your sleep and function with as little sleep as possible. The busy streets below did not reach the high windows of your apartment and for the rest of the night you had peace. Who knew you'd have anything but that, in the upcoming days.
Shifting nervously from foot to foot, nervousness had been a fragment of memory. A stranger, to your steel-like mind. But knocking on your mother's door, after seven years of absence, did make it rise up in your throat. Create a lump that made swallowing hard and lead to your hands feeling clammy. There was shifting on the other side, footsteps and the light voice of your mother. “I'm coming... just a second” you couldn't help but have a soft smile form on your lips, there was a great chance for her to not remember you anymore. To wonder who that stranger in front of her white painted door was. But you prayed for the very first time in five years, that she'd recognize you. The door opened and your mother was in the middle of asking who it was. When her hand dropped from the door handle. Her mouth opened forming an 'O' shape, eyes wide. Tears were welling up, as her aged hand was lifted to her full lips, something you had sadly not inherited. “(Y/N)?” a shaky voice, making her look so much more vulnerable. “Mom....” the word hadn't left your lips, since your eighteenth birthday. Always in your mind, never spoken out loud once. And then the next movements were a blur to you, only the iron grip on your instincts, preventing you from harming your mother. Who'd simply wrapped her arms around your shoulders and pulled you in. Your head fitting perfectly on her shoulder, as she was slightly shorter than you. The wet feeling on the neck of your skin, only confirming the state of her, that you'd felt form the shake of her frame. She was crying. Tears you wished, you'd be able to tell her, to not spill. You were not worth of them and would never be. Not after you'd done to survive, not after the things you'd sacrificed and the person you'd become. Taking your hand in her own, she closed the door behind you. Leading you into the kitchen, making you sit on a chair. So she could take you in completely. The changed hair, the changed attire, the different eye color. And yet, the same shape of nose. The same shape of eyes and your dad's thin lips. Delicate hands, that felt rough to the touch and yet were fine structured.
”It's been seven years...” it didn't sound accusatory, but sad. Like she had almost given up, on seeing you ever again. Mirroring the state you had been in, when you'd thought you wouldn't be able to see her ever again. “I.... couldn't make it earlier” despite the emotional state you were in, your leash on those emotions was too tight. She could sense it. Could feel the change of your character and yet didn't care. Her baby girl had returned to her, after the little chances, police and people had given her. A realist as she was, your mother knew you had had to change. Whatever you had gone through, you had had to adapt to survive. She was doing nothing less in her state now, though not wanting you to see any of that. You could tell by her posture. How she was wearing long sleeves, despite the summer heat outside. Eyes darting to the living-room, where cocksucker was probably asleep in his drunk mind. “You came back to me, that is all that matters” your mother was quick to fill a glass up with orange juice. Your mouth that had long stopped smiling, forming into a genuine one with that gesture. Memories of old days, pancakes and orange juice.”Thank you.... How are you doing?” you asked her. It was meant to distract you from the man in the other room, from your inner wish to snap his neck. “I've been doing good, I kept myself busy, waiting for you....” the smile grew sad, but did not vanish from your lips. It wasn't like you didn't know about her circumstances. “You remarried...”, “I did...”
It was the early beginning of the night, when he stirred. The sound of empty bottles, knocked over and heavy breathing reached your ears. Panic was an emotion you were familiar with by now, could tell the signs of it. Trembling lip, averted eyes, And the faintest sheen of sweat on your mother's forehead, told you all you needed to know. Entering the kitchen, you could look at him now clearly. His body was buff and a head taller than you. Eyes small and hazy, most likely leftover drunkenness. Unwashed, suit pants and untucked white shirt. “Who's that?”his words were slurred, confirming your suspicion of his intoxicated state. “She's about to leave...”the rush in your mother's words, a hint for her lingering panic. “Get her out, now! I told you, I don't want any visitors... Good for nothing woman” your blood boiling, with every single derogatory word. “Have you prepared dinner already?!” there was no calm talking with him, he was yelling, even if there was nothing to yell for. Face paling, you knew the answer of your mother “No”. The next chain of reactions, was unplanned and broke every single self imposed rule. He lifted his hand, no doubt to slap your mother, for her incompetence. When you grabbed his wrist, right hand pulling back his own. The bone broke, on the impossible bend backwards. He yelled in anger and pain, trying to punch with his left hand for freedom. But you were quick, dodging his fist and grabbing the back of his head with your own hand. Yanking him down, to meet your knee face first. Stumbling backwards, that man was by far not weak. Most people would have passed out, but he simply staggered a few steps. Then he charged ahead, not even minding his broken bone. The drunk mess he was, probably numbing any remaining waves of pain. “You do not get to raise your hand on her, or touch her” a cutting icy tone to your voice. Your mother had never seen you like that, but could guess it had to do, with the seven years of your absence.
”I get to do whatever I want, with my property. Ain't no bitch coming to my house, making rules for me...” his healthy hand grabbed for something to use against you. And it was a lucky grab for sure, with fingers curled around the hilt of a kitchen knife. “No! Don't....” her voice was a stronger, than her state of mind could have suggested. The fear of losing you again, of watching you get hurt, made her stronger. Strong enough to yell at the man who had been mistreating her, for the past couple of years. Howbeit, you had no intention of having her hurt, in your stead. “It's alright mom... neither of us is getting hurt tonight” your voice was calm and unafraid. How could you be afraid of a drunk shell of a man? When you had faced many men, who had been more of a nightmare. In every single sense of the word. Conversation cut short, with him aiming the knife at you, shooting out forward. You blocked the aim, with your forearm, stopping his own. Before you used the pressure points in his wrist and forearm with your other hand to slip the knife out of his own. Twirling it into your own hand and throwing it backwards into the empty left corner of the kitchen. “You little bitch, a whore like your mother”. “I don't care what you call me, but you're never going to call another woman, like that...”. The years that had shaped your mind and body, had also shaped you into a monster. A monster that could and would kill, with no remorse. Your hands used the rough surface of the table, to push your body upwards, with the strength of your upper arms. Muscles flexing to push you up and forward. Legs wrapping around the surprised man's neck and with a twist of the rest of your body. You had him on the ground with his neck broken, head twisted to the side. The scream of your mother, did not phase you as you got up from your kneeling position on the ground. “What happened to you? Why did you do this?!” she couldn't control the high pitch of panic, the terror that was visible in her shaking limbs. It seemed that that night, would be filled with disturbances and surprises at every single corner.
The faint click of the door, almost went unnoticed by you, almost. But you still did hear it and pressed a hand to your mother's mouth. Putting a finger to your own lips, hoping she would understand, to not make another sound. Despite her heavy breathing, against your palm, she nodded. Eyes darting from corner to corner of the kitchen there was no escape route. The kitchen window too small, to squeeze through and the only way out, the doorway. Judging from the sounds of heavy footsteps, there was no way you could use that exit. “Pick up the knife and stay in the corner. From the doorway you won't be seen” you whispered to your mother, into her ear. Wanting to prevent anyone, from hearing. Reaching back to the extendable two rods, you had strapped to your back. A flick of your wrist extended them and a quick twirl, ensured your tight grip on them. “If I'm not back in five minutes, you break the window with the chair and leave...” she wanted to protest you could see it in her eyes and the opening of her mouth. However you just held her gaze, steady and calm as you were, your mother did relent to your wish. You nodded your head and left your position in the middle of the kitchen. Walking with quiet steps along the wall towards the opening of the door. You could not hear a single motion anymore, the boots had stopped crossing over the wooden floorboards. There was only one way of finding out, who had broken in and walked around. Which was for you, to enter the living-room and hope your reflexes were better than theirs. A deep intake of breath, a last glance towards your mother in the back of the kitchen and a quick nod of your head. You entered the living-room and blocked the fist aimed for your side, with both metal rods. Using their crossing to hold the man in place, kicking him in the stomach. He hit the sofa behind him with a crashing sound. That turned the sofa over, him sprawled across the back of it. The next guy who tried to grab you from behind, used a chokehold. Which had you drop the metal rods. The support of his body and weight was on his right, which prompted you to move to the left yourself. With what little movement you could, using his leverage against him. Your head was quick out of the hold and you had the hand of the arm, that had laid across your collarbone, on his back. A kick to the back of his leg made him lose balance and fall .You kicked him into his side.
Quick thinking paired with a boxing system in your mind. Was your systematical way of taking them down, two of seven. Mr. Three was holding a gun to your face, four people to your side, you could not yet give a look to. It was weird enough, they hadn't taken you on all at once. You stepped to the side and put your hand over his wrist. Four fingers curled over his skin, while your left hand came to rest atop the gun. Pushing it away from your body and against his grip, moving it out of his hand. Into your own, clicking in the safety, before knocking him out with his own gun. Which didn't only give you a gun, but also the advantage of being able to look to your right. The four remaining men were three tall guys and one short guy. “I told you she was good” tall guy number one said, whom you recognized from the club. Your tongue swept over your lips, teeth pulling in your lower lip. The gun was aimed at them, but something felt more than just off. Why were they so calm? “Who are you and what do you want from me?” You had to keep their attention from your mother at all costs. “We're here, because our friend over there, thought you would be a good addition.” the tallest of all three spoke up, his voice was deep. Hair dyed a light pink, accompanied with an undercut. “Sorry to disappoint, but last I checked? I wasn't a collectors item”. “She's feisty, I don't know if it's a good trait... Could be quite tiring...” short and minty spoke. “Breathing would be exercise. If you were to pick, hyung” the third guy, with spiky black hair said, his particle mask was pulled down. Resting against his chin, the spiky particle mask, gave off a dangerous vibe. “Who are you guys.... I would love to get an answer. Or I'll have to start taking out, one of your guys after the other” silence fell for barely a second, before minty spoke up once more. “We could kill your mother in the meantime, she's not a fighter like you are....” body tensing at the threat to your mother, you cocked the gun. “Let's not be hasty with our words and actions. I'm Kim Seokjin and these are my friends. Min Yoongi, Kim Namjoon and Jung Hoseok. The once you knocked out are, Park Jimin, Jeon Jeongguk and Kim Taehyung.” You had no obligation to disclose any of your own personal information. “Knocked out is quite the rude term, she took us by surprise”
The boy who'd spoken had been Jeongguk and he'd also been the boy, you had kicked into the sofa. He was helping gun boy to his feet. While the choker had gotten up himself, they were quite the tough bunch. “Your former boss, told us you'd be a great help in our future plans.” Seokjin spoke to you. The very first reaction you showed all night now, that could be even categorized in the drawer /fear/ was a tightening of your jaw. Namjoon was observant, his eyes told you so. He'd noticed how you'd stiffened, how your jaw was in a tight lock. “Maybe we should explain the situation and if you want to help us by the end of the night? We will take care of your little problem.” his eyes flickered towards the kitchen, where you knew the dead husband of your mother lay. “Fine, but not here. My mother has nothing to do with this and she's in no way bargaining ship....” He was about to agree, when your mother appeared in the door way. “Mom...” you kept your eyes on the boys, the gun still held in calm hands. But your attention was split between them and the fragile woman in the doorway. “You did not expect me, to run away. When my daughter is trying to protect me....” she snapped at you, holding the knife bravely. But if the men were anything like you, she would not stand a chance with them. To your surprise the one who spoke up and directed his attention to your mother was Hoseok. “Mrs. (Y/L/N)” he didn't even use her new last name, but the one your father had given her, before he'd passed away. “I assure you, that we did not come to harm your daughter. In fact she's done a great job, of showing her capability....” he was polite and had a charming smile on his face. Something that soothed your mother, as you could sense in her slowly relaxing posture. She thought it was possible to have a civilized conversation. She was starting to trust the soothing voice, the calmness he emitted and his obviously charming smile. “Jeongguk and Taheyung will clean up the mess they created and Jimin will obviously, remove the body in the kitchen for now.” they didn't protest to his words, but did as asked of them. Jimin almost passing your mother. Before you quickly pulled her out of his reach and behind you. She was confused as it was, but having her anywhere close to any of them, did not suit your books.
You chose to sit with your mother, on the chairs in front of the balcony doors. Easy passage way, to get out of things, if they were to become heated. While having them sit in front of you and across the table. Enough space, to watch their body language carefully and react accordingly. “I think it is best to start at the beginning, before we make any kind of deals” Namjoon had his elbows resting on his legs, leaned forward and looked straight at you and your mother. “We're an organization called BTS, I'm the head of the organization. It was founded with the idea, to help people who can't help themselves. Protect the unprotected and stop killers and criminals from wrecking the city. I founded it with my high-school friends Seokjin-hyung and Yoongi-hyung. Back then we couldn't do much, we didn't have any funding. And what we could do, was too small to change anything for anyone. That was when we met Taehyung, who was already working for the underground, as a sniper. His original target had been a close friend of ours and when we were able to stop him, with what little resources we had. He decided to switch sides and help us take down his boss.” Your eyes flickered over to Taehyung, the one who had pointed the gun at you, making you wonder how good or old he was. When he had been used as a sniper for underground business, he couldn't have been too good though. Otherwise you would have known of him. “Obviously it was easy then, using the fundings his boss had left behind and equip ourselves with what we'd need to get through. Seokjin-hyung is the man who makes the plans for us, gathers informations and creates alliances. Of course you can imagine, that being able to do that you need a great database and clearly formidable technology. We looked for someone who could provide both, technology and the abilities to repair or enhance it at any times.” he looked over to Hoseok who'd spoken to your mother, before. “That's when I came to the organization. My father worked for the NSA, he taught me all he knew. And what he didn't know? I taught myself...” he was proud and definitely had had to have some abilities to back that up. You could tell, it was not just simple smug attitude. “I was friends with Jimin and suggested him to Namjoon. Since he had enough people to work behind the scenes, but too little to work right in the field. After all you can't do a job, without a way out right? Jimin became the driver and the one to enhance whatever we decided, to ride for the night” he winked at you. You didn't show a single emotion, while waiting for them to keep going with their explanation. Unaffected by your cold shoulder, he moved on. “Jeongguk was the last one to join, basically the maknae of our group” he reached over to ruffle Jeongguk's hair, who smoothed out his hair, after swatting his hand away. Glaring at the seemingly older man. “Let me guess, he's the muscles in all of this?”, “He's a little of everything” Seokjin answered, pride tinged his voice.
”If you have all these people, that cover all bases of your operations. What do you need my daughter for?” your mother asked, the important question. “Even if you phrased everything like a business relationship. No doubt you all grew closer to one another. And if anyone were to blackmail or threaten you, with the other's lives. You would not hesitate to drop whatever operation, to save them...” Seokjin blinked once and twice at your words. “Why else would you look, for someone who bought her freedom, with a 74 kill” your mother flinched visibly at your last words. “You need someone to carry out the mission no matter what, even if it means losses....” Yoongi had not addressed you once in all of this, which was nothing out of the ordinary. He wasn't the wordiest in the group, preferred to work from the shadows and let Namjoon handle the talk. He was the smooth one, the well phrased one and smart one. Yoongi was a genius, just in a different aspect. However he spoke now. “You're smarter than you look.”, “Looks say nothing about capabilities, it's a 101 for people in our businesses....” you snapped at him. Frustration was taking over. After all you had bought your freedom, had earned it hard. Just to lose it to those shortstops and mafia lookalikes. “We're not here to force you into anything, you can decline our offer. Or you could take it, the money from this mission, would be enough. Enough to keep our organization going and enough for you and your mother to start over. New identities, new lives, new beginning far from all of this.” his comment made you think over the offer. After all your mother could not go back to her regular life, with witnessing all of this. Her husband was dead, because of you, even if he deserved it. And people would sooner or later ask about it.
”Do not base your acceptance or decline of the offer, on me...” she reached to hold your hand, ever since she'd let go of it in the kitchen. “I know you think you owe me something. But you don't owe me anything, not when I couldn't protect you....” she didn't care if the other's could see this emotional scene. Your mother wanted to make sure, that you would think of yourself first. From what she gathered, wherever you had been. You had had to do gruesome things and you were finally free form those. To go with whatever these men wanted from you, no doubt was going to put you back, into the life of seven years. “They're right mom... we need money to start over... What did over there... it would alert people to me and it would get you into danger...” you licked over your lips and ran a hand through your thick dyed hair. “You will cover this up, make it look like he left her for someone else. You will provide her with enough money, to leave the country and start over new. Without any link to me or this.... And I will help you, do whatever you need of me...” the youngest in the group seemed to think they won you over for their side. But you were on no ones side, you were only doing what would benefit you. In this situation, what would benefit your mother. Who would have protested but halted all words, from spilling over her full lips. With your hand squeezing her's in your's. “Then I would say we have a deal...” Seokjin got up from the sofa and so did you from the chair, still not trusting any of them. He let a keycard slide onto the table and smiled a little, eyes crinkling at the corners. “This is the keycard for one of our hotels,a room your mother can inhabit, until we cleaned up this mess. Of course, it will take a few days, for us to ensure smooth sailing, for her” you nodded your head and picked up the keycard with your own hands. Checking it for anything that could be fishy, especially since you were wearing gloves. If it had been coated with poison, you would have been able to tell. “Pack your bags mom, with the things most necessary. Call in sick into work and wait at this hotel....” you took out your own phone and handed it to her. “It can't be traced and I am the only one who knows the number of it.... Don't give it to anyone... especially none of them....” turning your attention back to the men you sighed heavily. “I guess I will have to accompany you?”,”That would be most preferable indeed....”, “I'll make sure that my mother arrives at the hotel alive... and then I will meet you wherever you want me to...”
Entering the bar, you rolled your eyes at the empty place. They could have been on time, to say the least.Any way, you decided to drink some shots, while waiting for them. If they didn't know to hide away their expensive liquor. Then it was by no means, your fault for drinking it. A shot in, you noticed the 'whooshing' sound, ducking your head just right. The bullet hit the wall behind you. You pressed your back against the bar's dark wood, pulling out your own gun and calming your hard beating heart. After all it was your body's natural reaction, to a surprise like that. Judging from the speed of the bullet and where it hit. You could almost guess where the shooter was positioned. It was not accurate, given that he could have moved positions. But you were going with your gut feeling there. Rolling to the side and laying flat on your stomach, you looked into the dark far back of the bar. Shooting two shots, you heard a chuckling sound and a “Holy shit man” before the steps of moving, accompanied the dark chuckle from before. Two people as the boot's sounds were slightly different, depending on their body weight. The next shot you dodged, was quite close to your head and had only missed by bare millimeters, the burn to your ear from the heat, radiating off of the bullet. You would kill that fucker, before he could come close anymore. Now that you knew where he was, you fired the next bullet from your 9mm. Someone fell to the side and there was a curse, from your far left. You had hit to injure, not to kill and therefore had been successful. One down, meant there was another one anywhere. Your question answered in a heartbeat, when the lights flickered on fully.In the middle of the room, Jeongguk was rolling up the sleeves, of his shirt. “Back for another beating?” you put the safety back onto your gun and let it slip into the halter, underneath your shirt. In no way would you leave your gun anywhere, when there were at least two people around, who were not your best of friends. “Just making sure, you're not all bark and no bite” he replied, his jaw jutting out, dark eyes glistening with challenge. What was it with cocky youngsters? You remembered those from the league, bunch of assholes. “Fine... Just don't go crying to your mama, when you get your ass handed...” he smirked at you now. “As long as you don't start crying like a girl” he replied.
You would make him eat his own words, with a straw for the next couple of weeks. Like it was an insult to cry like a girl. The two of you just walked around one another for several moments, gauging the other's reaction. The one you had shot had been Taehyung, who was being held up by Jimin. It had been just a graze shot and not even worth the support of the orange haired man. But it was none of your business to judge anything. Though you were seriously wondering how he had missed the clean shot, you had aimed for. They were probably better than you thought, they would be. Jeongguk was the first to move and damn was that boy vicious. He didn't let you dodge, without kicking your legs from underneath you. Thinking he had a clean shot, to ram his fist into your stomach. You wrapped your own around his and pulled him down, moving your legs towards you. Yet he caught himself with both hands, twisting himself out of your grasp and back on his feet. Which you managed with a backflip yourself. And back to staring at one another, trying to find an opening with the other.The next attack came from you, when you noticed that he left his right side open. A mistake, that could have cost you, the win of the fight. As it seemed he had left it open on purpose, because he caught your punch midair. Used the force of your own strength in the punch, to flip you on your back. His hand was tight around your throat. Would have probably, chocked you to death. But this wasn't the first time for you, to be in a situation like that. With the thrust of your hip, your legs were around his neck and a quick pull of your body, with your hands behind you. Flipped him over you, using your thighs to squeeze his own throat. Jeongguk was a great fighter, you could tell with his body control and the movements he used. He was a quick man and scarily strong, if you had to evaluate him. With the pure strength of his hands, he pulled your legs apart enough, for him to force his way out of the situation. Rolling back and onto your feet, the both of you looked at one another. You were even in strength and reflexes, your speed matching and your tactics witty and quick as the other. “Looks like you're more than just bark...” he said and wiped the blood, that had dripped down from the corner of his lip. “Don't give me sudden compliments, you'd almost make me feel all girly inside...” you retorted as you rubbed your neck. He was the damn hulk, squeezed into a barely over eighteen year old body. Before you could lunge for one another once again, slow clapping was heard from the side. Next to Taehyung and Jimin, Namjoon and Seokjin stood now. Seokjin dismissing Taehyung and Jimin,telling him to await him in the infirmary.
”You're a great shot, got Taehyung all giddy. And as it looks, you can hold your own against our, Jungkookie...” Namjoon sounded impressed, then again he could have been a great actor, for all you knew. “You have to understand that, we had to check for ourselves. If you were as much, as we were promised...” walking over to Namjoon with the sweetest fake smile you could muster, he did not expect the punch that sent him staggering. His nose bleeding Jeongguk. was ready to lunge for you, but Namjoon's raised up hand stopped him. “You have to understand, sometimes I'm too excited...” the smile was gone, as fast as it had made it's appearance and the bored look replaced it. “Now, that we all, are relaxed and comfortable with one another. How about we show you around?” it seemed like the gentle smile was practically carved into the tall man's face. Like Kim Seokjin had no other expression, but the kind smile be bestowed on everyone. You wondered if that was truly him. Wondered about all the people you had to work with now and the upcoming mission, you had no idea about. While some part of you, was still thinking of your mother. Who was hopefully getting some rest, in that luxurious hotel-room she had been bestowed with. “I guess I should know where I have to spend my time now.... And maybe what I am supposed to do anyway....” Seokjin only offered you his arm to take, which you declined with pushing your both hands into your jean's pocket. He shrugged his shoulder and waited for Namjoon and Jeongguk to follow both of you. The first holding a tissue to his bleeding nose, while the latter was glaring darts into your back. Obviously some fanboy for the leader. All four of you moving into the hallway, that lead away from the bar, to a heavy metal door that was fingerprint coded. Away from the dark, liquor heaven and into the new life, you had basically no option but to go for. For now at least.