Hopeless (Special)

AN: Hi. How's your day?

Jungkook's Perspective:

I've been awake for three yellow days and three white nights.

It was like a never-ending nightmare.

Tugging at my fingers, pulling on my cuticles and hair tips.

But my lips remained shut.

Taehyung's smile was ever so present.

Namjoon was a still lake.

But I could feel it. The pill from the middle of the room was as big as a monster.

What I didn't know was if he could also feel it.

Or whether there was the desire for him to know about it.

Talking about what happened more or less four days ago without it having consequences was the dream of a fool.

We shared the guilt. Taehyung and I.

If choices were the branches of a tree, then my options have left this tree looking at the brink of death. I could either not talk about it until the day I'll die or I could shout it at the top of my lungs.

I could either keep pretending everything is the same as before or I could run and start anew.

But which one? And how?

This dilemma kept me standing on my feet, leaning against the kitchen counter, ogling my eyes out at the two conversing on the couch.

'Limbo.'

That's what this was.

Not high enough to forget.

Not strong enough to withstand the thought of it. The heaviness of knowledge.

Not courageous enough not to fear it.

Not sober enough to find, or grow another branch. Or tape a stolen one to the trunk.

Not lucky enough for Taehyung to get hit by a bus.

Not inhumane enough that I could sign his death sentence.

Or worse.

Sign his repentance papers.

Letting live and forgive was a path I was struggling to crawl on.

But this wasn't about forgiveness.

It was about what the two of them represented.

Or much worse.

What I represented in their story.

What adjective they'd attach to me because I couldn't find one that I could be proud of.

Namjoon, however, has already attached many words to me. Not that it truly mattered.

The present mattered. And at this moment in time, I knew that watching the time slip away was not going to lead me to anything. Stalling was and is a choice in itself. A refusal to surrender, flee or attack.

Stalling is neither. It's blending in with your surroundings.

The only way to flee is if I were to claim that I want to go home now; although it sounds like a naive wish.

Cause none of us have any homes to go back to

My brother has moved in with the mother of his child. My parents have gone back to live the story of married soulmates.

And I am petrified, staring at these two men who are throwing useless commentaries at each other. Catching the ball without it exploding in your face. What a game to behold.

I wanted to argue to myself that being here should be a desire manifested into a reality.

After all, I've always wanted to have no rules apply to me. To jump off the wheel.

'However, if this was my wish at some point, then why can't I ...breathe?'

"I am going to the store. Do you want anything?"

I let them know while putting on a jacket.

"Kook, get me the biggest and longest cucumber available and a bottle of anything. Let's make it cherry cola."

"Jungkook don't." Namjoon quickly shut Taehyung's request down.

I frowned.

"They are necessary for me to make a point," Tae explained slowly.

"You're a sore loser," Namjoon concluded to himself.

I turned towards the door.

"If I feel like it, I'll buy them. If not, then too bad."

Namjoon visibly froze with his arm splayed across the sofa's back. Looking over his shoulder.

I walked out before Taehyung said anything at all.

Walked up the stairs and out of the building with both hands in my pockets.

The pavement was wet again since it wasn't long since the skies stopped crying.

The air was like a cold shoulder.

The open space and the lack of doors were a welcomed change.

But as always, whenever I am outside when I am high, I get paranoid.

Hence, I purposely avoid bumping into anyone in the street. I cross on the other street if I have to. I avoid eye contact.

I'm keeping my head down and my face hidden.

Just like Namjoon always does.

And when the shop emerged after a left turn, a lump in my throat formed at the sight of two guys laughing drunkenly while kicking a guy in the stomach and back while he was lying on the wet pavement. Trying his best to protect his head with his arms.

"Where's the money?!" One of them shouted.

"You fucking useless…."

Their words and their mad grins didn't match.

But one of them spotted me from the corner of his eye.

I keep walking towards the door that was in their, more or less, far left.

A part of me was thinking that I should save the one who was in distress.

Another part of me was thinking it will end like a noir film.

Therefore, I passed by them, hands in my pockets, and entered the shop without as much as glancing in their direction.

But I could still see the heads of the two through the window that was as big as the wall. I mindlessly touched bags of chips with no appetite.

'What did he need the money for? Does it matter? But if I bring the money, will they…'

"Excuse me." There was a nervous employee to the left, almost bowing as she avoided eye contact.

"Yes?"

I spoke quickly, hoping to get this conversation over with faster. To have her eyes focusing on anything else.

"We're closing soon. I merely wanted to inform you…"

"I'll hurry up?"

She stepped back and put her hands up.

"No! No…you can take your time."

"Wasn't this shop open 24/7?"

"It is…was…but…"

She peered towards the glass window and the two laughing silhouettes

I grabbed a bag without looking and headed toward the counter.

She followed me closely behind.

Scanned it and asked: "Anything else?" With a nervous smile.

"No, thanks."

"That'll be…"

"Hey! Get me some cigarettes!"

The voice of one of the guys slipped in through the now, opened door.

The dirty blonde staggered in, and headed toward where I was.

'She should call the police.' I thought.

But kept quiet as I counted my money and handed it to her.

"Hey, girl. Pass me a Lucky Strike."

"Immediately." She slightly stuttered and took my money with a shaking hand.

"Keep the change." That was all I was able to say as I walked past him.

His body emanated nothing but mischief.

He reminded me of Taehyung somewhat, but not entirely.

As if I knew Taehyung still had a smidgen of a soul and this guy lost all of it.

I walked out of the store and into the cold air with a rush of adrenaline pumping through my chest.

'Perhaps the illusion of a soul.'

I stole a glance at the bleeding boy and the guy who had his dirty sneakers on top of his ribs like he's caught a wild animal. Currently posing for a picture.

A triumphant pose.

Too bad he was doing this on his own.

"Hey, you…"

I halted and turned around.

"Got a cigarette?"

"No."

"Really? You look like a smoker."

"I am not."

"My bad."

This jovial conversation ended the second the boy groaned under his foot from the pain they'd caused him.

I looked down at him as the other did. But I felt bad for him while the other felt the need to deliver another kick to the boy's stomach to stop him from protesting.

The boy fell on his back, holding onto his stomach.

The one who kicked him looked up at me, smiling widely.

Saying: "This fucker owes me two hundred and fifty bucks."

"I don't care," I said without thinking.

"Don't act like you wouldn't have done the same."

"I wouldn't have."

"You think you're above this, huh?"

I shook my head.

"No, but he can't make any money if he's a patient in the hospital."

I heard myself speak as he grinned wider.

I wondered why was I speaking like Namjoon all of a sudden.

And shrugged it off as another coping mechanism to keep this man from turning his wrath toward me.

But I didn't have to because the cashier started yelling probably due to the blond grabbing her hair and pulling her up and across the counter inside the store. It got both of our focus.

He started laughing.

I simply stared.

And then as I was about to turn and leave, the eyes of the boy who had a bloody nose and a half shut-eye looked straight into my eyes.

Saying: Help me.

But I was certain that was not an option. I could only make it worse and burn the whole tree down if I were to change course.

This was another recipe for someone getting shot in the forest.

Besides, no dealer or enabler of a dealer could ever call the police.

No matter the consequences.

Not now when Namjoon almost got caught.

Not now when I had weed and whatever was in that pill and syringe flowing through my system.

I had to protect myself above all so whatever happened to those two, I couldn't care about it.

I was not allowed to.

I was not a savior.

Or a victim.

I was a ghost.

And I had to remain that way.

On my way back, I did not see one person.

The wet leaves rustled from the wind.

My shoes hit puddle after puddle.

And when I made it in front of the building of our apartment, I wanted to turn around and run home.

But I did not know the way home or if there was a home to run back to.

So, I lowered my head and walked in. I trotted down the stairs and fished for the keys in my jeans.

The moment my head passed the threshold of the front door, all the sounds of the outside world got muffled.

The air was heavy in this living room.

The walls seemed too close.

'This apartment is making me claustrophobic…' I assumed.

But I doubted the lack of windows was the problem as much as the fact that I got eyes on me more often than not.

"That took a while." V let me know.

"There was a line."

I lied, untying my shoelaces and kicking the shoes closer to the wall.

"Got me my cucumber and…"

"No."

I spat quickly. Swiftly turning and heading towards the bedroom like I was being chased.

Because I was. The second I started walking, Taehyung was off the couch and behind me with the speed of someone who either had too much coffee or uppers.

He didn't touch me but hovered behind me. Leaning in close to my face so he could get a reaction. Anything but my bored expression.

I always accepted this as Tae being Tae before.

However, I was not high enough to feel anything but discomfort at the way he was analyzing my facial features now.

I made it to the door of the bedroom, but he pushed it open before I got to.

And wondered what the hell he was plotting until I saw the empty bed through the darkness.

"Namjoon's taking a bath." He let me know as I walked in and reached for the door to slap it in his face.

But he slipped right in, the door closing with him beside me.

The door was now entirely shut.

Because he pushed me against it. The potato bag fell to the floor.

The door clicked as he removed my hood.

Gluing his body to my own. Breathing down the back of my head and neck.

"What do you want?"

"You can't tell him, or do you want to?"

"Get out."

"Stop avoiding me, you're going to make him suspect som…."

"Get out."

I kept saying that, facing the closed door.

Taehyung reached across my shoulder and grabbed my chin to turn me around.

I glared at him filled with ill intent.

"How about a joint?"

"Piss off."

"Come on, it will be weird if you were to quit now, and besides…"

"V, get out."

"V?" He elongated the letter, looking hurt and yet chuckling. "You've been acting like nothing's wrong when he's in the room and yet when I suggest how to do it right. You know, lying. You tell me to leave you alone?"

He leaned down as I spat: "Exactly."

"Do your thing then, but the weed's in the other room and tomorrow Namjoon will go deliver to a pretty far away place if you catch my drift."

I shut my eyes and exhaled loudly.

"Get…"

That's all I got to say when the door to the bathroom was opened, making a clear sound in the silent apartment.

Taehyung's hand was off my chin in a second. He also stepped back and turned on the light in a second.

I was sitting on the bed and Taehyung was by the door, eating my chips when Namjoon walked in with a towel around his waist and wet hair.

"What are you two doing?" He asked.

"Talking about shit." Was Taehyung's elusive answer before he walked out without Namjoon having to request it.

His presence was enough.

Taehyung knew what Namjoon wanted at all times.

It was obvious to me now that I was paying attention to his every move.

It wasn't my intention at first, but I had to be mindful of where he was at all times.

The words he said. The way he looked at me.

All to get keep Namjoon from finding out.

Cause I believed he didn't have to know.

But at the same time, I wished he did.

"What are spaced out for?"

He asked, putting his knee on the bed and leaning forwards.

Making me lean back as well. Back almost touching the mattress.

"Nothing. Just tired."

"Hmm…"

A pointless conversation that led to his lips touching mine.

The scent of vanilla and some kind of flower washed over me as he put an arm on each side of my head and kept himself on the edge of the bed.

Nibbling on my lip. Only to start kissing my neck softly.

"Let's...ah…" He bit me. "Go to bed."

"I agree." He whispered, grabbing a hold of the back of my head to keep the neck exposed.

"Namjoon…I am not.."

The front of his knee made it between my legs and squashed my genitals as well as causing friction.

The towel barely clinging to his waist as he grabbed the sides of my waist to pull me further up the bed so he could lay on top of me.

So that his hand could roam around my body freely. Slip under the sweatshirt, to get to my breast.

Pinch my nipple as I stared to the right to avoid eye contact.

He didn't seem to care as he tugged at my pants only to straighten his torso for a moment to remove his towel.

I gulped as I caught sight of his erection.

"You got to wake up early." I reminded him.

"Yeah."

That was all he whispered as he leaned back down and rested his stomach on mine.

"Can I… come with you tomorrow?"

Namjoon smirked as he stopped fixating on my clothed body to look up at my unblinking eyes that were staring at his face for once.

"Why? You feel like going on a four-hour drive with another drug dealer?"

"No, but I don't want to stay cooped up in here all the time. And I am supposed to be in it too…you know, delivering."

"And I told you that I don't want you to be a dealer anywhere besides in Mitch's imagination."

"I know…but…"

He was pulling my shirt up and asked a question that had my heart beat at a stop: "Is there a reason why you don't want to be alone with V tomorrow?"

I wasn't able to do anything but part my lips and keep my eyes open.

Unable to form words.

I shook my head.

But then he insisted: "Are you sure? Nothing's happened?"

"No." I tried to smile reassuringly as I went on, "No. It's the lack of windows…it's kinda…ah…"

His erect penis lay across my thigh, his fingers twisting my exposed nipple.

My back arched on instinct when he squeezed my left ass cheek.

"Do you want a place just for the two of us?"

"We can't afford that…"

He sighed and started pulling down my pants without bothering to ask whether I wanted to have sex or not.

As always, this man simply took me whenever he wanted. And refused to do it when I wanted to do it.

Which was making me feel like less of a man and more like a woman the more our relationship continued.

I wondered if all men were like this or just him.

I wondered if Taehyung would refuse me if I'd made a pass at him because I was drunk or high.

Wondered why Namjoon only ever seemed to want my body when what I wanted was anything but to be touched.

And I also wondered why I'd get hard the second he'd flop me on my belly like a sack of potatoes.

Sweatshirt up to my neck, pants on top of the towel on the floor.

I could do nothing but stand still as he spread my legs and positioned himself right between them.

Nothing but take the pain and the pleasure as he slammed it inside me.

I moaned without wanting to.

I thought about Taehyung hearing this without wanting to.

I couldn't stop thinking that Taehyung fucked me in this position also.

Couldn't stop thanking the heavens that Taehyung wasn't as big as Namjoon.

And cursed the same fact the second he slammed it all in.

Only to halt as his penis went inside to the brim.

Fingers wrapped themselves around the back of my neck as he pulled some of his dick out only to ram it back in.

I was one with the mattress.

And although I wasn't drugged out of my mind.

And I said yes to this relationship.

Something about it felt no different than V doing it against my will.

Cause I wasn't in the mood.

Despite my erection.

Despite my moans caused primarily by his size and the way that he's fucking me.

The way his hand would choke me in tandem with how deep he went.

I only wanted to go to sleep so I could forget everything.

But even if I said so.

He'd keep doing me.

Just like Taehyung would.

'What's the point in telling you anything?'

Namjoon didn't change positions.

He kept me down.

He kept me choked.

He kept me vocal and sweaty as he continued to do it like was nothing.

Gasping for air. Being filled up and emptied up again and again.

And yet, there was something different in this interaction.

Since I wanted his hands to leave my neck.

Because I wanted him to lean down and kiss me.

Talk sweetly for once.

Hold me in his arms.

But even that…Namjoon wouldn't do it while we were having sex.

He's been more affectionate lately than he's ever been. Mostly when he was on drugs. But either way, he's changed.

But not the sex.

Between the sheets, he was still the one fucking me.

And I was still the one that could do nothing but take it.

Powerless did not begin to describe it.

Cause every time he'd stop for a few days, I'd be the one who craved it.

Craved him to do anything to me. Pay attention to me and my body.

After all, this has been going on for a while so I must've gotten used to it.

As I did with weed.

Namjoon became yet another bad habit that I couldn't kick.

The good and the bad. They came together.

As I ejaculated on the washed sheets without him having to touch my penis.

Doing nothing but penetrating me for his own pleasure.

The most pleasure I got was from the friction between my front and the sheets as I went back and forth while he kept ripping me in half.

That alone was enough to send me over the edge.

But just because I orgasmed, that didn't mean it'd be over. I'd just be more tired now as he'd keep fucking me for the next hours.

While Taehyung was in the other room. Probably thinking about how to destroy my sanity tomorrow.

During these hours I had time to think. I had time to acknowledge that I knew Namjoon wouldn't probably blame me for taking that pill because who expects to get raped by their friend after a pill? Who expects to get injected against their will by the same very friend?

But why couldn't I expect Namjoon to do anything but murder him without caring about the consequences?

Yet, if he loved me he would consider my wishes. And all I wanted was that Namjoon and I could walk out and never look at V's face ever again.

But he only knew one kind of love.

The type of love that allows him to pin my hands against my back when I'd try to crawl away because I can't take it anymore.

The type of love that allows him to spit in my mouth as I'd let my tongue hang out because his fingers around my neck would force me to.

The type of love that allows him to be in control.

While my muscles clench as his natural force causes bruises on my skin. I swallow that spit as if it's a gift and not humiliation. I am not in control.

Was I ever?

Is this love?

Does he love me?

Or does he just not love me the way I want him to?

And how do I want to be loved?

'I have not one damn clue.'

Do I love him or the idea of who he could be?

Nonetheless, losing my voice because I am moaning while he's hitting an internal organ it's tiring.

Not being allowed to fall asleep cause he wants to keep fucking me is tiring.

Not getting kissed or tenderly touched, but bitten, shoved, and slapped is now tiring.

It's making me want to run.

Physically want to escape this situation because I am confused.

So confused if this is how sex between two people who love each other should be. Or at least if that's how it should be all the time.

Alas, it's not like I've experienced any other kind of sex.

Well, at least…I don't remember most of it besides how he felt inside me while I was losing my mind.

Four hours later, Namjoon was asleep naked on his back.

I was sitting on edge of the bed with one of Namjoon's white t-shirts covering only half of my thighs.

Staring at the door.

Wishing I could go to the bathroom.

Wishing my ass would stop pulsating and hurting.

Wishing I couldn't still feel his hands around my neck.

The wetness between my legs. And his cum dripped out of me like a reminder.

I couldn't tell if V was still awake.

But I wouldn't assume he'd do anything with Namjoon still here.

Yet, I didn't have the energy to put my pants back on. Or the energy to walk fast enough.

Or the energy to wash myself. The energy to do anything but wish I could get high to forget all that I couldn't figure out.

'Limbo indeed.'

Not able to fall asleep beside my lover. Not able to take care of my own needs.

Not able to talk to my friend and explain how much he's hurt me as if he doesn't already know.

Not able to tell if he'd care or pretend to.

I was stuck on that edge of the bed for an hour.

For once, weed was not enough to make me get out of bed.

And when I reached for the pants, I could barely breathe.

When I walked out of the room without making a sound, I could recall the ways I moaned just an hour ago.

It was embarrassing.

But not more embarrassing than walking as if I've just been beaten up on my way to the bathroom.

Taehyung was awake. Eyes glued to the screen of his laptop. Paying me no mind as I entered the bathroom and locked the door.

Left to view the place where he'd fucked me.

The place that made me think about something else than when I'd get my next joint.

I passed by it to wash my face. Stared at my red neck in the mirror. Horribly aware of my breath.

Washed my body using the same sink. Feeling the spots that Namjoon has used until their breaking point sting and contort as I tried to clean them.

I patted myself dry with toilet paper and pulled my pants up.

When I was about to get out of the bathroom, I stopped.

Turned around and looked for a place to lie down.

I walked out instead. Determined to make a joint no matter what Taehyung would say.

But to both my relief and panic, he didn't pay attention to me and kept clicking away on his laptop.

I got my cigarettes, my joint, and a lighter.

Went back into the bathroom. Locked it. Smoked. And then smoked three cigarettes, one after the other.

Drank some water straight out of the tap.

Laid down in the dry bathtub and closed my eyes.

I fell asleep feeling cold, used, and alone.

A cloud of smoke that could not get out hovered above me.

A painful chest. A painful feeling that the weed did nothing but intensify.

Sleep was my only escape.

The vivid dreams were better than reality.

Cause while they were happening, I knew they weren't real.

And that was my only comfort.

The last one I had.

'How pitiful.'

Morning came but the sun could not get in.

I awoke in bed. Not sure how I got there, but I assumed Namjoon, who was gone, found me.

Either way, I quickly decided not to leave this bed for the next ten hours.

I made up my mind.

But I hated the silence.

The lack of distraction.

The fact that I couldn't fall back asleep.

And the damn anime playing in the other room.

'So loud. And annoying.'

I tossed and turned but could not go unconscious.

Finally, I surrendered to the realization that I just had to lay still with my eyes closed.

And it will pass. Like everything else.

Little did I know, Taehyung didn't want to let this opportunity go to waste.

I did not hear him come in.

Did not hear him walking.

I failed to acknowledge that Kim Taehyung was a ghost too.

It was only when his hands wrapped around my waist and he nuzzled in the crook of my neck did I become aware of his presence.

"Good morning."

The sigh and his breath kept hitting my cheek.

"What are you doing?" I asked quietly.

"You were really loud last night. The monster did a number on you."

I bit the inside of my cheek and grabbed a hold of his wrists.

He let me push his hands away.

I got up at once, while I still had the chance.

'But where do I go?'

"Are you hungry? You must be hungry."

"Get out."

"Don't be like that. We're friends, remember?"

I was sitting on the edge of the bed, about to stand up. Only after I got to say: "We stopped being friends the second you crossed the line."

"What line?"

I headed for the door, but my mind stood still.

"What line, Jungkook? There's no line between addicts. We take what we need to get through the day. For example, you keep sleeping with a murderer and I sometimes roofie my one-night stands. How are we different?"

"We are!"

I shouted, storming out of the room.

His steps were light again. Similar to a cat following its human with its tail up in the air.

"You're about to tell me about his passionate love for you?" He mocked.

I opened the fridge.

"Cause you can't tell me about yours since it doesn't exist."

I shut the fridge.

"If I wouldn't, I wouldn't be with him," I argued, filling a glass with water.

"Yes. You would. After all, an addict loves the hand that feeds it. That is true. But that's not true love. It's just...manipulation."

"I am not manipulating him! What the hell do you...!"

He was behind me when I turned.

He was smiling.

He wasn't scared.

But delighted to look into my panicked eyes.

"You can't fool me Jeon Jungkook. I told you that I know you. That I understand. I have no interest in condemning you. I am only telling you what it's plain to see."

"You don't know anything," I muttered.

"Are you lying to yourself often? Is it working? Are you happy or you don't know what that is?"

I scoffed.

"Do you?"

"Of course I do.": He shrugged, keeping a smirk on. "Because I know when I am not. And I bet you know that too."

"Leave." I barked, pointing in the direction of the door.

"You're so funny when you're angry."

"I mean it. Leave and don't come back. I will tell Namjoon I didn't even see you leave."

He patted my shoulder and tilted his head to the right.

"Don't you see? I am exactly where I want to be. I am content."

"Content?"

His hand went from my shoulder to my chin. Taehyung stepped forwards and turned me around.

I was staring at the damn fridge again.

"You'll never tell. Because we're the same Jungkook. So, this..."

He stroked my clothed chest with the other hand.

"Means nothing to you than a way to pass the time. As it does for me because we need to keep running. Keep ourselves...occupied."

"Screw you."

"Wouldn't that make the hours just fly by? No matter if they're painful or not."

I clenched my teeth. And rested my forehead against the cool surface of the fridge.

"What do you say Jungkook?"

I sighed and disturbed the silence.

"You got nothing to offer me."

I uttered those words with no inflection.

With my eyes closed.

My heartbeat was steady.

I went on: "So take your claws off me."

"Finally, being honest, are we?"

"It's true that I have no idea what I am supposed to be feeling. And it all looks pretty bad no matter how you look at it. But. You... you're just counting down the days you have before you'll overdose or get caught. Whatever it is that will make your wait for death, end. But I, I still want to start over one day so take your hands off me. I don't want to die yet so I'll kill you myself if you want to die that badly..."

"Aa...I think I know where you got the guts to say something like that to me. Say, how did it look? The pill you stole from me?"

Namjoon's Perspective

The clouds were replaced by the sun.

The narrow streets made way for an open road.

The wind was loud. The inside of the van was dark, however.

The suitcases and boxes kept moving right and left.

I was in the corner of this container.

'This is a bad day. I can feel it.'

The police sirens had me clutching the knife.

Them checking the back of the van was not supposed to make me anxious.

I didn't want to admit it to myself, but it did.

Their waving at me did not make me let my guard down, although I was sitting in what appeared to be a relaxed position.

The back of my head tapped the wall between me and the driver.

And it helped to keep me awake in this pitch-black box.

After all, I had to remain alert.

My overstretched legs were on top of a fake floor.

And underneath it, there was another floor made entirely out of cocaine bricks.

This was not what I envisioned I'd be doing in the future.

Not something I'd ever risk.

But I needed the money now.

And if I made it, then I wouldn't have to risk it again.

Or so, I hoped.

Yet, it was unnerving.

The old man driving so casually.

The happy-go-lucky song he kept playing on a loop in the background.

It didn't fit.

None of it fit.

Alas, I knew the road could be hell.

But getting there was not the end.

It was another beginning.

And I was alone. All alone with an old man.

This was not smart.

This was not calculated.

This was not the way Fred did things.

And if I had the power, I would've changed the way things were done.

Cause although the reward was a fortune that if it were to be split amongst others would not be worth the trouble.

In the same vein, if there were others, the chances of success would increase exponentially.

As it were, this was a suicidal mission.

No one went to that man's den and came out unscathed.

An eye or a leg.

A testicle or the skin on your face.

Something had to be taken away.

But I didn't want to give anything to him.

I had nothing to give.

I needed everything I had left.

Because what I lost was nearly everything.

The people I had left couldn't help me.

The ones who could, I've refused.

'Fuck, I miss Fred.'

Cause if there was one thing that the old man got right was that everyone needs people.

During good and bad times. During the bad times especially.

In this darkness, I could almost hear him scolding me.

I could almost hear it.

'Why'd you say yes? Are you ready to die so soon? What about Jungkook? Did you give up already? Or are you just tired?'

Which one he'd ask.

Maybe all of them.

Maybe none.

Maybe he'd just let me go thinking I could deal with it.

I wanted to believe I could deal with it.

But one against fifty or more was not fair.

And a body part as a token of my loyalty was not a fair trade when I've done nothing to betray that trust yet.

Mitch's best customer was an animal.

Not a demon. Just an animal.

And its pack was no joke.

I couldn't think of a way to get out of this with fists alone, so I had to use my brain.

But it was blank.

The only thing I could see was the lack of light and the outlines of the boxes and suitcases.

The only thing I could hear was a cheery, nauseating song, and Fred, scolding me.

I wished I didn't want him to scold me.

But I needed someone to.

Jungkook wouldn't.

Jungkook couldn't.

Jungkook...was not enough.

Not when I was on my way to an animal.

The thought of him, however, still gave me the guts to stand up and point the gun when the two black doors of the van were pried open.

Hundreds of grinning adult men kept their knives pointed at me.

We were not outside anymore. But underground.

Where they had a stadium that they could use to see inside the vehicles they allowed in.

Like it was a spectacle they all liked to attend.

The gray-haired driver was already tied up.

And I was sitting on cocaine bricks, saying to the two men who walked in: "Mitch's delivery."

The two started laughing as they advanced steadily.

"Now, now guys. He's one of us. No need to get so rowdy."

The man who talked came towards the back of the van from somewhere far behind the sea of them.

Stepping out for me to see him.

"J-Hope. I presume."

"Fred's adopted Monster. It's quite funny to see you here."

"It's fucking hilarious if you ask me."

I clenched my teeth and kept my finger on the trigger.

"Put that toy down Monster and come take a seat, we need to make sure your delivery is up to my standards."

"Mitch didn't tell me much, but he did tell me one thing."

The sweaty, butch men waited for me to speak, but J-Hope seemed disappointed to hear that sentence especially. Resting his head in the palm of his hand and shaking it.

"No matter what happens or what you say, never get out of the truck." I quoted, word for word.

"And How am I Supposed To take your TRIBUTE TO ME?"

He screamed as more of the men started laughing.

"There'll be no tribute today. Take your shit. Give me your money and scram."

Silence.

Utter silence.

And then one by one they laughed and pointed. Holding onto their bellies.

Shaking their weapons and exposed bones.

The leader entered the truck. Halting only when he arrived in front of my gun with no trace of amusement.

"You saw our faces. And one of our locations. You have to prove to me that you'll never betray me. So, pick, which body part will you leave behind as a guarantee?"

"Didn't you hear me?!" I barked in this face. "I am who I am. That's enough."

"Not for me. Maybe it was for Fred but look around, boy."

I was adamant to do so, but when he turned his back with no hint of fear that I'll shoot him, I looked away from the three.

And saw.

"Every one of these guys had to give up something. A kidney, an eye, a tongue, or a limb. Anything and everything. And I am not an exception."

I swallowed, observing the rough scars and mutilated bodies. Some were gruesome, and others' offerings were unnoticeable. But the one with the missing lips had me mesmerized.

J-Hope turned his gaze back to me slowly and spoke quietly. Nonetheless, his words pierced straight through my chest:

"Stop wasting my time."

"You know who I am. So, why would I betray you of all people? Think about it."

"Think about it?" He mocked and scoffed. Spitting on the ground. "The only reason you're not tied up right now is out of respect for Fred but that's where your luck ends boy. So, what will it be? I am being so nice; I am letting you pick. Now answer. What will you give me that is yours?!"

'I don't know.'

I heard myself thinking.

'I don't owe you one damn thing.'

"Do you want me to pick? Is that it?"

'Think. Think of something. My little toe...that's just retarded. But least invasive. Less important. And yet...I don't want to do it.'

I lowered the gun.

He looked surprised.

The others did not understand what that meant.

But J-Hope did.

He seemed to really see me for the first time.

Not looking through me but at me.

"Trust?" I spit. "You didn't respect Fred. You hated him."

"That doesn't mean I don't respect his work."

"But not him as a person."

"Your point?"

"My point?" I smirked and dropped the gun to the ground.

One face grinned behind him, and another gasped. A toothless man parted his lips.

Faces upon faces. Scarred or perfect. They all were looking inside this tiny van.

Hiding underneath the ground.

Like mutilated rats.

"I already gave you my tribute months ago."

"Enlighten me."

'That's Fred's line, son of a bitch. Or maybe, he's the one who stole it from you. But it doesn't matter because I know that Fred never gave you a hair from his head and he did business with you just fine. Not only that, but he told me exactly how.'

"I am the one who killed Fred. So, I made you millions in fact. Maybe more. That means You owe Me!"

"You did what?"

They gasped. Whispered. Mocked and laughed hysterically.

"You did not like the junkies who bought from your people because their dealers have stopped working? Or the organ market that all of a sudden didn't have enough produce? How much money did I make you with one stab? Is it a nice number? Cause I think you should be the one giving something to me."

He looked shocked at first and then grinned wider and wider. Exposing white, perfect, big teeth.

"The son of a devil is really the same as the devil itself, I see. You killed him; he killed his own father. I guess neither of you is the family type."

I smirked.

"But you see, Monster. Fred did get rid of his father, which helped me stay alive, but Fred turned out to be an even bigger problem for me as the years went by. So, if history repeats, how do I now know you won't be another nail in my ribs like he was? HUH?!?"

"I didn't take over. I am a delivery boy in case you didn't notice." I mocked myself, spreading my arms and pointing to the inside of this van.

"And why should I trust you?" He spat through his teeth.

'You don't have to. But I get to keep my body intact because I've already paid tribute."

"You think you're so clever, but I could kill you right now. Even if you had Fred's army at your beck and call, they still can't come quickly enough to save you."

"I can prove it to you."

He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms.

As people whispered.

Some demanded my death because they were bored.

Others stared with their eyes half-closed. Those who had eyes.

I dialed calmly.

And the person picked up immediately.

"Hey, Arthur."

"Hello?"

"You still want me to replace Fred after I've killed him?"

"...Yes, but your decision to..."

I hung up.

And mumbled: "That does it."

J- Hope spat again.

"How do I know he's not bluffing?"

"You don't. But I can give you his real name and an exact address. Then you can torture him until it'll be easier to trust me."

He moved quickly.

Two long steps and my head got smashed against the metal wall.

This man, who lacks fear and trusts d only action whispered in my ear like a snake: "If you'll ever replace him, or if you already did, I'll get a 60 percent cut. And that's the only way you'll get to stay alive right now. So, think fast, my men are aching for a fight. And patience is something they and I lack."

"I didn't replace him, but if that will ever be the case..." I bit the inside of my cheek after one of his men hit the side of the truck with what could only be a very heavy weapon, I mumbled: "Deal."

His fingers unwrapped themselves from my head.

J-Hope walked away with the same hands buried in the pockets of black silk pants.

"No one's allowed to touch Monster." He told them.

A hundred men who kept silent to hear him talk made many disappointed sounds at once.

A wave of complaints and whines erupted immediately after.

But they all turned quiet the second J-Hope opened his mouth.

"I am upset there won't be a show either." He confessed, "But since I am in a good mood I'll give you guys the driver. You can eat him alive for dinner."

A hundred animalistic Cheshire grins.

And then a cry of pain and despair disturbed the silence, coming from somewhere within the crowd who was on the ground level.

The ones closest to the van turned towards it not because they were startled. But because they were aching to see. Maybe, to partake.

They couldn't all get a turn, but they could at least take a bite, rip a finger or enjoy the sight of the flowing blood.

I sat down.

And didn't argue with J-Hope when he clicked his tongue and said: "You either are unable of empathy or the old man was not someone you cared for, Either way, you're just as boring as Fred."

I remained sitting down while the old man was ripped to shreds and the floor under me was being removed.

I did not step foot outside the van.

I did not say a word.

Allowed to be scared now.

Although I was supposedly safe.

I counted the minutes while they were checking the merchandise.

Feeling the cold sweat drip down my back.

Praying to no one in particular.

I stood up only when the suitcases were filled with cash and got placed under the fake floor.

The inside of the truck only had boxes on top of the second floor.

There was no one but me, standing on a mountain of money.

Of evidence.

I drove out and away.

Not knowing where I am or the fastest way to get back.

There was one thing I knew, however.

'Mitch orchestrated everything, didn't he? Even the driver was unnecessary and old. He knew. He fucking knew I'd refuse to bow my head. Didn't he?'

I hit the wheel of the van over and over again.

Listening to the same dreadful happy song the old man listened to the whole way here.

It turns out he had a tape that contained only that one song.

He must've liked it a lot.

He must've known the rumor too.

J-Hope always needs a sacrifice.

And I couldn't sacrifice a thing so they had to take more from someone else.

'Fuck! Fuck you! I'll...'

Before I knew it, I was before his desk, watching him count the bloodstained money.

"Give me my share already," I complained, tapping my leg against the floor.

"What's wrong? Feeling homesick?"

"I am not doing it."

"What is it you won't be doing?" He casually asked, licking his fingers so the money would slide easier.

"I am not replacing him. And I am not giving you a good deal with my future dealers either."

"Tell me, do you think Fred wanted to replace his father?"

My body froze. Leg standing still.

"Once you're in, it's hard to leave Namjoon. Besides, do you know how to do anything else?"

"Yes...I..."

He smacked the stack of money to the table.

"You what? You want to finish your studies and then what? Get married to your boyfriend?" He nearly shouted and then whispered: "A user?"

"Shut your mouth..."

"I am truly curious if you have a dream in mind. If you know how to do anything but be who Fred made you."

"..."

"If you do, then go ahead. If you don't then...I believe, continuing Fred's legacy is doable if it's you."

"Legacy? A trail of overdosed junkies and jobs for criminals? No thanks."

I leaned back and looked away.

"Fred was most feared amongst all hell's puppets. Did you ever wonder why?"

"He wouldn't kill the person that owed him or wronged him unless they were the last alive. He'd start by killing whoever they cared about or take away whatever they cared of."

"J-Hope believes one cannot part with their body. And that fact is important for him because it means that losing any part of it will be something you won't be able to ignore as long as you're alive. Every time you look in the mirror or feel yourself, you'd notice that something it's missing and so, you'll think of him. He becomes the missing limb. Fred however, believed that losing who you love and the objects you identify with is worse. Because you'll feel guilty even for moving on. He knew that one will get overwhelmed with more than one feeling when recalling it or while living with the fact that they are the ones who murdered those they held dear. Indirectly, of course."

"Yes. And?"

"But Fred was the Devil because he'd take everything away, not only the ones you love but yourself. He'd somehow leave you with nothing but who he wanted you to be. Basically, he was able to make other people an extension of his will. He'd mold one's very identity. He'd see into the depths of your soul and use what he sees for himself. After all, no matter what he did to you or those around you, you remained a Monster even after his death. In that way, he's like a cancer cell you can't get rid of. He remains in control even after his death. After a lost limb or loved one. The Devil on your shoulder whispering is still controlling your every action by whispering in your ear. No matter your emotions or if you remember him or not, the person remains his creation."

"I am only here for the money. So, stop blabbering and give me my money already."

He swayed in his chair with a smile.

"Are you really here only for the money? Or are you here because you can't imagine being anywhere else?"

"Stop stalling Mitch. I am not..."

"Fred learned the ropes from his father. You learned them from Fred. But the others were taught by him too. They were and are the same as you, an extension of Fred's will and without him, they're lost. They've lost their Devil. The one who saved them from poverty, shame, or a lack of purpose. A lack of community. or...parents. Metaphorically, none of us ever knew any Angels and if we were to meet one by mistake, we probably wouldn't realize unless they've died. But that is beside the point. Which brings me back to you."

I sighed.

"What are you going to do? Abandon them be a shadow of who they used to be? After all, they got no identity other than what they were made for. Even Roxy, is still cleaning up blood off the streets."

My eyes widened, and my crossed arms almost fell into my lap.

Mitch shrugged.

"Fred was a heinous teacher. But no one got to see the behind the curtains of his methods besides you. You know the strings he pulled best. And everyone knew that's why he kept you around. After all, who are you besides Fred's Monster? Kim Namjoon died when his grandmother died. Didn't he?"

"Money...give me...my damn money!"

"You can argue that junkies are a sad bunch of people who don't want to feel their emotions. Or maybe they gave up on the outside world and they're only waiting for death in the least painful way they found. You can argue that criminals are rotten to the core, the incarnation of sin, and a really...soulless bunch. But they're all people Monster. Your people. Fred's children."

"Shut the fuck..."

"We're all empty after all. And you're the emptiest of all. Yet you shake your fist and lie to my face?" He chuckled with no real joy. " Do you think I don't understand the struggle to fill yourself up? To find your identity and dream? To become a person? I tried too. But it's all been done by the people around you already, Monster. You're all grown up now and I think it's time to smell the roses. You can run and pretend to be someone else but you can't change your true nature. My and your fate was already decided long ago. We all saw that he tried to be like a father to you. Maybe his last attempt to create a normal human being. But because Fred was still Fred ...one can't pour from an empty cup. Which is why he probably let you kill him. He saw himself defeated when you of all people turned on him and without you, he had nothing left to live for after his last family member died. But that's beside the point too."

He shook his head slowly. I was grinding my teeth.

"The way I see it is that you can either accept who you've been raised to be or run. Either way, you'll always be a Monster."

'I already know, so...'

"Shut up and give me my money."