𝕀π•₯𝕣𝕒π•ͺ | π•ž.π•ͺ.π•˜.

"In which the lion fell in love with the lamb..."

Park Ji Eun is a normal college student, pretty studious, fairly innocent. When she gets caught up with the wrong people in the wrong situation, it seems all hell's gone loose. Min Yoongi and his mafia are ruthless, recognized throughout all of underground Korea. As the two get wrapped up in the world around them and what is really going on, Ji Eun is able to open her eyes and see for herself the path she is destined to follow.

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2. π•˜π• π•Ÿπ•–

I poked at my noodles in my bowl, unable to eat anything. Hana looks over at me from the other side of the table, chewing her food. She swallows and looks at me, brows furrowed.

"You good?" She asks. Hana sets her chopsticks down and leans back in her chair, eyeing me suspiciously. "Seriously, you've been moping around a lot lately."

"It's nothing," I push it off, eating the rest of my food. Even though I don't feel like eating, I would feel bad if I didn't, especially since Hana is paying for the meal this time.

It actually was something. Ever since the last time I saw Yoongi at the cafe, I haven't seen him at all. There were a few times where I had thought that it was him, but it never was. He disappeared after I had only seen him twice, and then... nothing...

"It's about that Yoongi guy, isn't it?" Hana questions. I'm snapped out of my trance, looking up at her with dull eyes.

"Well, I mean--" I begin, being cut off.

"See? I told you." She crosses her arms over her chest, rolling her eyes. "You only saw him like what... twice? You need to get over him and actually find a real  guy to be with- not one you saw in the cafe a couple times."

I think about what she just said, confused about what exactly she's getting at. She obviously sees the question on my face, because she speaks up again.

"I mean," she takes my wrists in her hands, and I roll my eyes at her. "We should go to a bar tonight or do some karaoke and get you a real man."

My eyes widen and I pull away. 

"Yah, are you crazy?" I say. "How in the world are we supposed to do that? Look who you're talking to, Hana..."

"Just because you're introverted and against all human contact whatsoever doesn't mean you can't have a good time. Come on. One night. One bar, okay?"

I sigh and rest my head in my hands, looking down at the table. I gaze back up at her in defeat, thinking it wouldn't be too bad of an idea.

"Okay, I'll go. On one condition. You do the clothes and makeup, you pay for the drinks; it's all on you." Hana smiles and grabs my hand, tipping the waitress and walking out. We get in her car and drive off to her apartment, where she says she'll help me get ready.

*****

"See? You look beautiful, dah-ling," Hana fakes an accent, turning me around in the full-length mirror hanging on the back of her closet door. We perfect the last few touches on my makeup (she had already gotten ready to go by this point) and go out the door. Hana looks at my shoes and then back up at my face in pity.

"Oh, no, Honey..." she crosses her arms and shakes her head. I look back down at the black ballerina flats I am wearing and have no idea what she sees wrong in them. When I look back up, Hana is throwing a pair of suede black heels in my direction. My eyes widen and I get scared.

"Yah, do you want me to break an ankle?" I ask.

"Look, you'll be fine, just try them on and walk," she nods her head and I slowly put them on and stand up. Even though I've never worn heels before, I find it surprisingly easy to walk in them and maneuver around the room in them.

"See?" she rolls her eyes at me and pulls me forward. "You're a natural, and now we have to go to the club."

"Damn, okay..." I mumble. I pull the coat that she lent me over my shoulders and grasp the clutch tighter in my hands. The clothes, shoes, and makeup she lent me all seem so expensive, and I don't feel like myself in them.

*****

"We'll just take two shots of tequila," Hana says to the bartender, who doesn't look much older than the two of us. He smiles and hands us the alcohol, taking the money from Hana's hands lightly. I see the two of them making eyes at each other and just look away into the crowd, at all the people dancing, drinking, talking, having fun; this really isn't my cup of tea, and I'm just mostly standing there doing nothing. A few guys pass me by, examining me and my charisma, others not even taking a second glance at me. I sit there and drink some 

When I look back at Hana, she's completely drunk, barely able to walk. She has lipstick smeared on the back of her hand and on her neck, as well as on another man's neck. They are sitting there together, laughing and drinking, not giving a care in the world.

"Hana, what the hell?" I ask her, sitting down. "You look like you're about to pass out." By this point, I'm a little ticked off, not sure what I'm gonna do since she was gonna be my ride home. I have no idea where her keys are, and I know it's going to be hard to try and get her home in the first place. 

"Mwo?" Hana says, looking at me, glassy-eyed. "I'm fine." she drags on the word, being pulled up by the man sitting beside her. He grabs her waist and leads her to somewhere in the back of the club, and I hear them laughing all the way there. 

Frustrated and annoyed out of my mind, I snatch up my purse and try to find the way out... but to no avail. Luckily, I find the back doorway, leading out into the alley on the side of the building, into the streets of Seoul. With a hard shove, the unused door opens, giving way to the damp, cold alleyway. Looking left and right, I check my bag to make sure I have enough money for a taxi. I should... I hope. 

From down the alley to the left, I hear voices, yelling, shouting; it sounds like older men, and from what I hear, they don't sound too happy. I don't know if it was the small amount of alcohol in my system or the sheer amount of nonsensical curiosity, but I find myself looking around the corner, behind the building.

What I see surprises me... and leaves me speechless.

Guns. Knives. Fist fights. Drugs.

What the hell is all this? There's a group of about four guys in their twenties, all standing over one guy who looks beat up and at the end of his wits. I listen in closer to see what's going on and find out what's happening.

"Chanyeol, make sure to get everything together when we're finished," says a taller man with a long face. The person he calls Chanyeol looks familiar, and I am positive I had seen him inside of the club earlier tonight. 

"Yess, boss," Chanyeol says and walks towards the victim, kneeling down and whispering something inaudible in their ear. He then stands back up and walks back over to the so-called boss and hands him a small bag.

"Hoseok-ssi, we have the payment filed in." says a more familiar, raspy voice. I look farther over the corner I am standing behind and come face to face with him.

Min Yoongi.

I furrow my brows and watch as they let the victim go, gathering their things and moving towards a sleek, black car. In the driver's seat is a younger, more chiseled young male with black hair. All the men load everything into the trunk and stop. The victim they once had held captive now backs away, pulling something out of his pocket, small and silver; a pocketknife... With all his force, he runs towards the leader and attempts to stab him, but ends up being attacked by the group of men again.

"Jackson, Yoongi, take care of the little fucker!" Chanyeol yells. Yoongi instantly takes him down, and the victim watches in fear as Jackson stands before him with a handgun, equipped with a silencer in the front.

There is a muffled shot, and the man falls dead... having been shot directly in the forehead. I quietly gasp, terrified of what I had just witnessed, the blood, the bullet, the-

Suddenly, in my purse, my phone's gone off, the ringtone loud and clear in the wet alleyway. I frantically open my purse and check the caller ID, seeing that it's Hana. Great timing, girlfriend.

"Someone's here!" Chanyeol shouts, pulling a gun from his waistband, walking in my direction.

"Shit shit shit!" I curse and try running in the opposite direction. Soon, all the men are coming this way, and I have nowhere else to run. My ankle twists in my attempt to run in four-and-a-half inch club heels. I instantly fall to the ground, my knees and elbows scraping the concrete. I cry out in pain and defeat, looking over my shoulder to see them all around me.

"It's a chick..." says Chanyeol, shining a small flashlight in my direction. I squint my eyes and raise an arm, flinching when Hoseok walks forward. He leans down, resting his hands on his knees. He smirks and uses the gun to raise my chin up to face him. I tremble in fear, not knowing what could possibly happen to me tonight. I swallow and let out a breath I hadn't remembered holding in...

"Wh-who are y-you?" I stutter, trying to get up, wincing in pain when I put weight on my twisted ankle. From behind Chanyeol's shoulder, I see Yoongi, staring directly at me with no emotion whatsoever.

"That doesn't matter right now," Hoseok replies, sneering and spitting on the ground next to me. "What matters is how much you know, and how much you've seen." His eyes are dark and cold, like an icy black void. Hoseok stands up straight, adjusting the sleeves on his blazer and walking back to the car. He stops in midstep and looks back over his shoulder.

"Jackson, pick her up and put her in the back. Chanyeol, restrain her if necessary. Yoongi, grab the chloroform." 

I feel a pair of strong arms pick me up and start moving me towards the car. I kick my legs and try and release my arms from Jackson's grip, but nothing happens. He's too strong, and I end up hurting my ankle even more. I feel tears stinging at the corner of my eyes, and bite my lip to try and stay calm. I don't know what's happening right now, nor do I know what's going to become of me.

"You bastards!" I yell at one of the guys who sat himself in the front seat. "I don't know who the fuck you all think you are, but you're never gonna get aw-"

"Chan, shut the bitch up already," Hoseok says from outside. Chanyeol moves quickly to the open door and into the back seat where I am sitting, restraining my wrists behind my back and my ankles together. I try and scream more, only for my face to be met with a crimson handkerchief pulled from Yoongi's front pant pocket. The smell of chemicals fills my nostrils, and everything around me becomes fuzzy. I look up at Yoongi through my lashes, wondering if he even recognizes me from the miniscule two times we encountered each other... But yet again, he shows no sense of emotion or recognition.

"Mianhae..." he suddenly whispers in my ear as he tightens the seatbelt across my lap, taking me by surprise. It is the last word I hear out of his mouth as my vision fades to black.

*****

"Like I told you before, business is not something to be fucked around with in my mafia, and you know this."

"I understand, hyung, but she's innocent. I'm betting you she didn't witness anything important-"

"I know what you're trying to say, Jungkook, but that's not what's important right now."

"Will the two of you just shut the fuck up already... Jimin, you should go and get Yoongi and Chanyeol before she wakes up."

"Too late, hyung, look."

Three boys stand in the small, dim room. I open my eyes and try to move my arms, only to find them restrained yet again. My mouth is shut, with a thick piece of duct tape over it. I sniffle and look down, also seeing that my foot has a splint on it. Across the room is a mirror on the wall, and I can just barely see my reflection. My makeup has all been washed off, and my clothes changed into a plain white tee shirt and black jeans. 

I only recognize one person in the room, Hoseok, but the other two are a mystery to me. I close my eyes, scared out of my mind, my mouth dry, my cheeks stained with tears from earlier. I sniffle and wait, hearing the heavy door open and close. The familiar men from before are there; Chanyeol, Hoseok... Yoongi...

Why would he do this? Does he not remember me?

I remember him. And he's not the man I thought he was.

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