Chapter 6
✶————✶————✶

Jimin stood alone in the storage room, the walls closing in on him, his chest heaving as he tried to steady his breath.

The echoes of Jungkook's cruel words rang in his ears, sharp and unforgiving.

It had all happened so quickly, a whirlwind of humiliation and confusion, and now Jimin felt like he was crumbling like the pieces of him that had once been whole were splintering apart.

The shame weighed on him, pressing against his ribs like a thousand-pound stone.

It was suffocating, relentless. His heart had been racing when Jungkook had been there, but now, with the silence in the room, he could feel it slowing, the heavy thud of each beat a reminder of how trapped he truly was.

He let out a shaky breath, but the tears were unstoppable. They filled his eyes, blurring his vision as they spilled down his cheeks.

His hands shook as he pressed them against his face, desperately trying to stop the sobs, but they kept coming—raw, uncontrollable.

This wasn’t the way it was supposed to be. His pride, his dignity—everything he had built his life around—was slipping through his fingers.

He had tried to hold on, tried to keep up the mask of confidence, of control, but now… it was all falling apart.

Jimin sank to his knees, his body trembling, his head spinning with the weight of everything that had just happened.

The humiliation, the feeling of helplessness—it was suffocating, and no matter how hard he tried to push it away, it was there, gnawing at him from the inside.

This is who you are now, Jimin, he thought bitterly. Nothing more than a pawn to Jungkook’s whims.

The thought of Kai, of the one person who had ever made him feel truly alive, was the only thing that kept him from completely breaking.

But even Kai was at risk now, and that thought twisted something deep inside him.

What if Jungkook found out?

What if he used Kai too?

The fear of losing the only light in his life was almost worse than the darkness he felt suffocating him now.

He forced himself to his feet, his legs unsteady as he pushed open the door of the storage room, stepping into the quiet hallway.

The air felt colder now as if the walls themselves were pressing in on him, reminding him of how trapped he was.

But he wouldn’t let himself break.

He refused to.

He wiped his eyes quickly, clearing away the remnants of his tears, and straightened his posture.

He was Park Jimin—captain of the volleyball team, class president, son of one of the most powerful families in the country.

He couldn’t let Jungkook take that from him. He couldn’t let anyone see how broken he truly was.

His steps were stiff as he walked down the hall toward his next class, the weight of what had just happened hanging over him like a shadow.

His mind swirled with thoughts of Jungkook—of the control, of the humiliation, of the twisted satisfaction that Jungkook had gotten from seeing him break.

And Jimin hated him for it, but more than that, he hated himself for allowing it to happen.

The classroom was just as cold and impersonal as the hallway, the hum of the air conditioning the only sound as he slid into his seat.

He didn’t even bother looking around. He didn’t care about the other students, the whispers, or the looks. All he could focus on was the storm brewing in his head.

Minutes stretched into hours, each one more agonizing than the last. Jimin tried to focus on his lessons, on the task at hand, but every time he closed his eyes, all he saw was Jungkook.

His smirk.

His hands.

The way he had used him, degraded him, and walked away like it was nothing. It felt like the entire world had shifted beneath his feet, and now Jimin was left trying to keep his balance on the edge of a cliff.

At lunch, Jimin barely ate his stomach a twisting knot of anxiety. He glanced at his phone, feeling a pang of longing for Kai, but he pushed the thought away.

He couldn’t drag Kai into this mess. Not now. He couldn’t put him at risk.

But his mind was racing, caught between the dark reality of what had happened and the fragile hope that maybe, just maybe, Kai could help him escape.

He texted Kai quickly: Can we meet later?

The reply came almost immediately: Of course. Same place?

Jimin's heart did a flip in his chest. He needed Kai. Desperately.

After school, he hurried to their usual meeting spot—a quiet café on the edge of town, away from the prying eyes of the school and the weight of his life at home.

When he saw Kai waiting for him, his heart settled, even if just a little. Kai’s warm smile, the way he always seemed to know exactly what Jimin needed, made everything feel a little more bearable.

They sat together in silence for a while, the only sound the gentle clink of their coffee cups.

But it was clear that both of them were preoccupied—Jimin with the events of the day, and Kai with whatever was weighing on his mind.

"Jimin…" Kai said quietly, his voice laced with concern. "What’s going on? You’ve been distant lately."

Jimin tried to force a smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "It’s nothing," he said, his voice weak.

"Just… school stuff. You know how it is."

Kai didn’t buy it.

Not even a bit.

He reached out, gently brushing Jimin’s hand with his own, his touch warm and comforting.

"You can talk to me, you know that, right?"

Jimin wanted to tell him everything. Wanted to spill all the dark thoughts swirling in his head, wanted to tell Kai about Jungkook, about the deal that had bound him to that monster.

But he couldn’t.

Not yet.

Kai would be hurt. He would try to fix it, try to save him, and Jimin wasn’t sure he could live with the consequences of dragging Kai into his world.

"I’m fine," Jimin said, pulling his hand away and forcing a smile. "I’m just… trying to get through it."

Kai didn’t seem convinced, but he let it slide, knowing better than to push Jimin too hard.

They spent the rest of their time together talking about lighter things—foolish, pointless chatter that didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things but gave Jimin a temporary reprieve from the storm inside his head.

When the evening came, Jimin parted from Kai reluctantly, walking back to his car, his mind still clouded with thoughts of Jungkook, of what had happened and what was still to come.

He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep pretending. How much longer he could wear the mask of confidence, of control, while his world crumbled around him.

✶————✶————✶

Jungkook entered The Viper’s Den, his personal playground, his throne. The air was electric, charged with the bass of the music, the flicker of red and gold lights casting hypnotic shadows across the crowded room.

This was his domain, and he ruled it with an iron fist—or a crooked smirk, depending on the night.

His friends noticed him immediately, shouting over the music. “Jungkook!” they called, raising their glasses in greeting.

He responded with a lazy wave, his lips curled into a grin.

“Ready to play?” one of them asked, holding up a shot glass, his drunken grin wide and inviting.

“Always,” Jungkook replied, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it to his girlfriend’s name as he made his way to the center of the group.

His girlfriend trailed behind him, her presence barely registering in his mind.

The laughter around them was raucous, already fueled by too much liquor. The shot glasses came out in quick succession, one of his friends slapping it onto the bar with exaggerated flair.

“Let’s go—belly button shots!” he declared, eliciting cheers from the group.

One of the guys turned to Jungkook, nudging him with a sly grin.

“How about your girl?” he asked, nodding toward Jungkook’s girlfriend, who had perched herself quietly at the edge of the group, nursing her drink.

Jungkook turned his head slightly, his expression unreadable. Then, with a dismissive wave of his hand, he said, “Do whatever. She’s no fun anyway.”

Her eyes darted to him, hurt flashing across her face, but she said nothing. Jungkook was already leaning back against the bar, ignoring her entirely.

The group laughed, eagerly diving into the game as a red-haired girl volunteered herself.

She stretched across the bar, tilting her head back, and the first shot glass was positioned near her navel.

The game began in earnest, the men taking turns downing shots from her body, their laughter ringing through the room.

Jungkook’s girlfriend sat frozen, the disgust clear in her tense posture, but she kept quiet, unwilling to provoke him.

Jungkook didn’t even spare her a glance, already reaching for another drink, the burn of the liquor dulling the edge of reality.

Finally, after minutes of watching, she mustered the courage to speak. Her voice was soft but steady, cutting through the noise.

“Jungkook, slow down on the drinking,” she said, her eyes pleading.

He stiffened slightly, his jaw clenching. His head turned, his gaze locking on her with a cold, sharp edge.

“What did I just say?” he growled, swatting her hand away as she tried to touch his arm. “Stop bothering me.”

She flinched but didn’t back down, trying again with a voice gentler than before. “I just don’t want you to get—”

The sound of the slap cut through the air like a gunshot, silencing the group around them.

His hand connected with her face in a swift, brutal motion, sending her sprawling to the floor.

The room seemed to hold its breath for a moment, the echo of the slap mingling with the bass of the music.

Jungkook loomed over her, his chest rising and falling as he stared down at her crumpled figure.

She pressed a trembling hand to her cheek, tears welling in her eyes as she struggled to process what had just happened.

“Shut the fuck up,” he said, his voice low and venomous. “So damn pathetic.”

As she whimpered, trying to push herself up, Jungkook’s foot came down, pressing against her face with calculated force.

The laughter of his friends erupted again, their mocking voices filling the room as they cheered him on.

“Man, you’re ruthless!” one of them shouted, doubling over with laughter.

“C’mon, Jungkook!” another called.

“Let’s get back to the fun!”

Jungkook didn’t immediately move. His foot remained planted, grinding her cheek against the sticky floor as her sobs grew quieter, muffled by the music and the crowd.

Finally, he stepped off her, as if she were nothing more than an inconvenience in his path.

Without a second glance, he turned away, his attention already shifting.

Another girl—a brunette with wide eyes and a mischievous grin—was sprawled out on a table nearby, naked.

The words “Drink Here” were scrawled across her skin in black marker, surrounded by arrows pointing to her navel.

And other multiples of degrading terms sprawled across her skin.

“Surpriseee!” his friends called, gesturing toward her with wide grins.

Jungkook smirked, running his tongue over his teeth.

He moved toward her, his steps casual, predatory. He leaned over, letting his lips ghost over her stomach as the crowd around them roared their approval.

“Now, that’s more like it,” he said, his voice loud enough for his girlfriend to hear, still trembling on the floor behind him.

The girl giggled as Jungkook reached for a bottle, pouring the liquor onto her skin before lapping it up.

The heat of her body, the cheers of the crowd, and the rush of dominance coursing through him made everything else disappear.

He grabbed the brunette by the hair, pulling her into a forceful kiss as his friends erupted in applause.

His girlfriend’s presence was a faint shadow in the corner of his mind, barely worth noticing.

Tonight was his, and he intended to revel in every moment of it.