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“Don’t breathe.”
Jungkook is sitting on the floor, his knees drawn tightly to his chest, not daring to move a single muscle. His fixed in place posture is making it hard to breathe and Jungkook’s desperately trying to inhale some air into his lungs; yet, he doesn’t move, his lips stay still, pressed together into a tight line.
“Don’t move.”
Another reason why Jungkook is absolutely terrified of taking in even a short breath is because he’s very well aware of what even one wronged moment, a bit too loud movement could lead to. He squeezes himself further into the back of an expensive wardrobe, before hearing quick steps and whispering voices coming from the nearby hallway. “Fuck fuck fuck”, thinks Jungkook, very well aware that his hiding place won’t be of any use for much longer. He stands up and stumbles from behind the giant wardrobe, his thoughts swinging back and forth, eyes looking for a better hiding place. Sure, the room is big it’s a room inside the royal palace after all, but Jungkook knows hiding into the bathtub, under a king sized bed or behind a heavy golden curtain won’t help at all, especially when there’s approximately fifteen royal guards, just about to burst into the room and – Jungkook swallows hard and blocks the thought away. A rather powerful blast to the door turns Jungkook’s stomach because “this totally can’t be happening, this can’t be real at all”, yet Jungkook is here, the panic rising, creating a tight knot in his throat, the blasts to the metal door and violent shouts from behind it getting louder and louder by each passing second. Within the mix of muffled screams of his own name and pounding onto the door, Jungkook awkwardly stumbles trough the room in a backward motion, heading directly to his last possible exit.He doesn’t think as he climbs over the balcony, he doesn’t even breathe when he steps onto a wooden window ledge, only barely wide enough for his feet.The soft cracking coming from beneath and the cold wind blowing strands of his raven black hair over his cheeks send shivers down his spine. Jungkook leans into a wall behind him, raising his hands and desperately trying to get a grip onto the wall of stone, providing himself with a pitiful and fake, yet very much needed source of comfort. Jungkook has no idea how long he remains frozen in place with his eyes tightly closed till he finally proceeds to open them once again. The screams and violent blasts coming from outside of his bedroom are long gone by now – the guards must of left the moment they realized the one they were looking for wasn’t hiding anywhere in sight.Expect Jungkook was actually very much in sight; it was only the steadily growing dusk, quickly transforming into a pitch black night that saved him. Jungkook carefully looks up at the night sky. It’s early spring and it’s not beautiful, there’s no stars filling the view or whatsoever. All that’s there are wide-spread dark clouds, thin fog that’s barely present and distant yellow and orange mixing in the horizon, as remains of the day.And maybe Jungkook was supposed to be scared, but as he took a deep inhale, the cold air filling his lungs entirely, looking down meters and meters below, he didn’t feel fear or any kind of frustration, at least not really.It was like all the fear, panic, disappointment and anger that piled up trough the past few days mixed together into something that was a bit too much to be felt.He didn’t feel anything as he climbed down the ledges of his rich and royal, yet incredibly fucked up family’s palace, he didn’t really feel anything, not even relief, as his feet finally hit the grassy ground.Not even when he was already in his a way too expensive car, driving away faster than ever before, he couldn’t really bring himself to care. Jungkook simply turned up the radio to the loudest volume, letting the unknowing music blast trough his head. There was something comforting, something freeing to have all your possible thoughts washed away and Jungkook needed just that. Something to blow his mind and bang into his soul full-force, something like loud music and quickly fastening speed to numb his senses and occasional drops of saddening thoughts.
14 days later
Jimin licks his blood-bitten lips, inhaling to the most people distinctive, almost spicy smell that once upon a time reminded him of fireworks. “You aren’t focused at all today. Try fucking harder, if you don’t get this done precisely we’ll all face consequences and you know it.” Jimin turns around, looking across the wide, grey room, narrowing his eyes. “I’m fucking trying okay,” he lets out through gritted teeth. Of course, Yoongi doesn’t look pissed. In contrast to Jimin’s current state, the older remains calm, wearing his signature calm and at the given moment annoyingly peaceful, almost blank expression. “Look I don’t wanna be mean and shit okay? I just don’t want for any of us to have our heads fucking chopped off because of this, that’s all.” Jimin turns back to the target, sighing. This was all because of that dumb, stupid Jeon Jungkook. Prince, or whatever he happened to be; it was Jimin’s job to get rid of him or face even more terrible consequences.
How could anything be more terrible then killing a person though?
Jimin blocked the thought away, pressing onto the trigger.
Bang.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
The familiar smell of gunpowder fills Jimin’s head as he tries his best to softly vent his anger. Jimin might be a passive-aggressive, more than just occasionally snappy person, but not when it comes to Yoongi. There’s something scary about the older one’s calmness regardless of the situation. Maybe it’s the fact Yoongi doesn’t even flinch when most people panic or maybe it’s just his rational way of problem solving when everyone else falls to impulsivity.Maybe it’s just that Jimin admires the older, despite the fact that he clearly isn’t planning on giving Jimin a break from this stressful situation. It’s not like Jimin isn’t very well aware what failing this particular task could mean not only for him, but for all of them after all, but there is something about being constantly reminded that he needs to get it done precisely and correctly regardless of the pressure – it angers Jimin that Yoongi reminds him of it mercilessly. In the same time he knows that his very anger is what makes him stronger and the winning one in the end. So Jimin doesn’t really complain; he just shoots. Standing in upright posture with his hips slightly rotated, his muscles tensed up, Jimin feels the cold metal of the gun under his fingers and against the side of his head. It’s a familiar feeling, something that used to feel heavy to carry. But not anymore. Jimin pulls the trigger again and again and again. He shoots and hits his target, the artificial human, a fake doll that’s simply there to resemble Jeon Jungkook. He shoots at the middle of its plastic forehead, he shoots its neck, he shoots the left side of it’s chest, just above where a heart should be. It’s 11pm when Jimin finally makes his way back to his apartment. He sighs and throws himself onto a fluffy pink sofa Taehyung stubbornly purchased the first time they moved in together. Jimin can’t complain though. He spends his thirty minutes of free time simply staring into the ceiling, before he stands up with a sigh and heads out of the small apartment complex, once again. There’s something unbearably empty about walking into the practice room with bruised cheek and knuckles, aching limbs because of the events from the previous night that are about to repeat.The practice room is crowed, as every usual Friday. Jimin grimaces at the stinky smell of sweat as he steps inside, instantly swallowed up by the mass of people, mostly big and buff men – a lot bigger and buffer then himself for a notice. He tires his best to gently push his way through the crowd, without getting noticed, because he really doesn’t need any uncomfortable encounters too double the weight of an already bad enough day. But of course Jimin doesn’t have it easy. Maybe if his hair wasn’t so radiantly pink- “Hey, hey Jimin! Hold up!” “Not again”, murmurs Jimin under his breath and fastens the pace of his steps, his movement trough the massive, bad-smelling crowd getting less swifter.But he’s not fast enough. In mere seconds, he feels a soft grip on his wrist, the familiar warm fingers circling around his way in a manner Jimin hates. He hates it because he knows that the grip is gentle only because he didn’t try to break free from it yet. Regardless of that fact, Jimin doesn’t hesitate. He spares no time turning around and simply shakes himself free without looking back. “Jiminie! Please I just wanna talk!” Jimin squishes himself through the crowd, hoping to lose his stubborn follower along the way. He hears unhappy murmuring, he registers looks thrown directly at him, some out of pure curiosity and some full of jealousy. Jimin could say, being number one bounty hunter in the entire organization has it’s perks – some good ones, but mostly shameful, exposing ones, Jimin never wanted at all. He finally makes his way out of the general crowd, only to feel a strong hand on his shoulder.“Hey angel I just wanted to-“ Anger boils and explodes out of Jimin before he’s able to vent it. He turns around in a quick, swift motion, pushing and knocking his follower’s hand off his shoulder, making him stumble backwards. “Sweetheart, what the fuck?” “Don’t even dare to touch me you fucker.” Jimin narrows his eyes and grits his teeth underneath an angry line formed from his lips. He’s still feels boiling anger in his stomach, but the other man is in contrast, but no surprise, smiling. “Well it’s not like I was expecting you to be calm baby. That’s one of the rare things you lack to be honest.”“Don’t fucking call me that Jae.” Jae only smirks. Of course he smirks. Slowly, he takes a step dangerously closer to Jimin, not enough to touch him, yet just enough to make the boy disturbed, as a man almost twenty centimeters taller and god knows how much wider, looks down on him from up close. Jimin hates his thin lips, sharp jawline and calculated, cold eyes. He hates his wide chest and his massive presence you couldn’t ignore no matter how much you tried to. But most of all, Jimin hated Jae for being a liar, a breaker, a cheater. “Come on baby, stop playing so hard to get”, continues Jae in a sweet voice, making Jimin’s stomach twist in both anger and disgust. Unconsciously gritting his fists, Jimin looks up to Jae, their eyes meeting in an intense gaze: “What the fuck is not clear to you Jae? I think I explained pretty well that I don’t want you near me ever again and that I fucking hate you.” “Oh really? I didn’t look so to me when you begged me to pin you down and fuck you.” That’s when Jimin’s anger finally boils over. The whole mess of a situation he’s in, stress, overwork, his dumb ex provoking him at the every possible occasion combining with something people around him when he was still going to school used to call “anger management issues” simply piled up – and all he sees is red.He moves before his mind really registers it and in a brief second notices a change in Jae’s expression as his smirk fades into a mask of shock and sudden fear, but Jimin doesn’t care, all he feels is overflowing, uncontrollable anger burning from within and red- “Jimin! Jimin hey, stop it!” There’s a strong grip on his wrist, stopping it bare centimeters before Jae’s face. The grip is warm and the voice is familiar, yet Jimin can’t break out of it. He resists the hold full force, twisting around- “Jiminie please.” Oh. Sekojin. Jimin freezes in place, looking up with wide eyes and there he is: plump lips, lean muscles, dark brown hair and relaxed, at least seemingly calm features despite the situation. “Crazy bitch”, whispers Jae, his eyes meeting Jimin’s, full of something that looks like a combination of fear, pity and disgust, a mix that makes Jimin look the other way. “Shut the fuck up and leave Jimin alone already. Get lost”, hisses Sekojin. Jae murmurs a few curses under his breath but surprisingly enough, turns around and disappears back into the crowd. “Jiminie? You okay?” The younger’s tensed up body relaxes as he wiggles out of Sekojin’s hold. “Yeah I’m okay”, he replies in a quieter, soft voice. As if. Sekojin looks at him with sad smile that resembles pity, at least in Jimin’s eyes and the boy can’t help but feel regretful over it. He never wanted people to be worried, he never wanted people to give him those saddened looks, full of pity Jimin never wanted and even less deserved. “Jae isn’t shit. Come on, let’s just head back.” “But… we’ll lose points if w don’t participate-.” “And what about it? We’re the shit anyway.” It’s Friday, meaning there’s a sort of a tournament between bounty hunters of the organization to collect points and update ranks. Beating others and getting beaten up as a routine. Getting money and protection by harming others because they don’t want to be harmed themselves; that’s what Jimin and Sekojin have in common.The only difference is that Sekojin’s innocent, a simply good person who happened to be at the wrong place at a wrong time. Jimin? He’s none of that.Once again, Jimin feels incredibly numb as he follows Sekojin to his apartment through the maze of an underground complex. The smell of gunpowder and irony taste of blood in his mouth; it was all so familiar, so normal to Jimin. It sometimes made him wonder how did he grow so, so cold. How did he grow into someone who didn’t flinch at the sound of a gunshot, how did he become a person who could mercilessly hurt others, how could he become someone who was able to withstand getting hurt and injured on weekly basis and most importantly – how the did he turn into someone who carried this much, already washed away, but still very much present blood stains on his petite, yet far from innocent hands?At times like this Jimin’s mind drifted off, away from Sekojin and Namjoon’s relaxed chatter and occasional flirting, far away from the smell of delicious food he had no interest in. At times like this, his mind was radiating with guilt, filled with only one word all over:
Killer.
Jimin’s phone buzzes in his pocket, making him groan and open his eyes. He finds himself squished against the pink sofa, deeply sleeping Taehyung nuzzled into his chest. Jimin smiles at the look of his softly-snoring best friend, gently running his fingers through his messy silver hair.Till he notices hickeys. They start under Taehyung’s chin, continuing down his neck right to his exposed collarbones. It unconsciously washes Jimin’s smile away. It’s at times like this when all Jimin wishes for is that he could protect Taehyung, do something, anything to save him from the hell he was living daily.The saddest part is Jimin couldn’t really do much more then pull Taehyung’s thin yet bigger body closer to his chest, nuzzling his nose into strands of his soft hair, whispering out sweet nothings. After awhile, Jimin finally takes out his phone, unlocking the screen.
Unknown (2.34am): hello park jimin.
Jimin (2.43am): who is this
Unknown (2.43am): this is Jeon Jungkook. I suggest you to listen to me carefully if you don’t want to spend the rest of your life rotting in a dirty prison cell :))
Jimin (2.44am): look I really don’t have time for some fucking pranks
Unknown (2.44am): oh jiminie
Unknown (2.44am): you think this is a prank? I almost pity you
Jimin (2.45am): look im tired can you pls just leave me alone? I know you’re not Jeon Jungkook so stfu
Unknown (2.45am): oh really…..
Uknown (2.46am): then how is it possible that you’re being texted by an unknown number when we both know that every phone number in the underground society you belong to is name-restricted?
Jimin (2.47am): what the fuck
Unknown (2.47am): :))
Jimin (2.48am): this can’t be
Unknown (2.48am): well it kinda is soo
Unknown (2.48am): I suggest you to listen to a few rules if you want to make it out more or less alive
Unknown (2.50am): meet me tomorrow at exactly 4am, next to the school we both went to all those years ago. I want you to take me back with you and convince Kim Namjoon to add me into the system beforehand.
Jimin (2.51am): and why exactly would I do that lmao
Jungkook (2.55am): I know everything about you Park Jimin. I know my fucking family hired you to track me down and chop my head off or some shit, but I also happen to know everything about the organization you work for. I know about you, Kim Taehyung, Min Yoongi, Kim Namjoon, Kim Sekojin and Jung Hoseok. I know who you’re close to and who you hate, but the important part is that I can expose all of the information I have to the public, meaning your little hiding place will get discovered, you will get arrested and your friends will get killed. Of course I will spare all that information if you let me join you – take me with you and I will never say a word about this.
Jimin (2.56am): hwathefuck
Unknown (2.57am): I suggest you follow the rules :))
Jimin (2.57am): ur fuckingh sick
Unknown (2.58am): see you tomorrow jimin
Unknown (2.59am): sleep well :))