As I stood before the mirror, applying a touch of blush to my cheeks, my mind began to drift. The excitement for this afternoon's party fluttered in my chest. However, beneath that joy, a quiet reflection started to surface. It was the 4th of July once again—almost a year since my life had taken such an abrupt and unexpected turn.

Last year felt like a lifetime ago. I could still feel the sticky New York heat, the weight of the city's noise pressing in on me. What was meant to be a quiet, non-girl's girl's day with Louisa had quickly morphed into something else when Taehyung and Justin—who I now knew was Jungkook, undercover—gate-crashed our afternoon.

Taehyung... I truly believed I loved him back then. I remember sitting at dinner that evening, looking across the table at him, utterly oblivious that everything he'd told me was a lie. The man I thought I was building a future with wasn't just leading a double life in a gang—he was also cheating on me. He'd spun so many tales to keep me in the dark.

And I believed him.

I couldn't help but laugh, though the sound was edged with bitterness as I remembered just how exhausted and miserable I had been back then. I hadn't spoken to my mother since she'd called me a whore for working at the Copacabana. Night after night, I danced, desperately trying to scrape together enough money to pay off a debt that wasn't even mine. My muscles ached constantly, my body worn down by exhaustion, and yet there I was—grilling burgers and forcing a smile. It was supposed to be a celebration, but it felt like I was trapped in a prison not of my own making.

But that was last year.

This year, everything was different. This year, I wasn't in New York. I wasn't tied to someone who was betraying me with every breath. I wasn't weighed down by crippling debt. This year, I was in Hawaii—and even though I was lying to most of the people who knew me, I finally felt free.

I glanced at the small, framed photo of Yoongi on the dresser, a pang of longing pulling at my chest. He was supposed to be home by now, but his flight from France had been delayed, and I missed him more than I cared to admit. Just the thought of him made my heart swell, warmth blooming deep inside me. Love was a feeling I never thought I'd experience again. He treated me like a princess, but more than that—he saw me. The real me. He knew who I was, and what I'd been through, and still, he looked at me like I was someone worth loving. I had never known that kind of love before.

And it wasn't just Yoongi. I had a family now—a real family, even if we weren't bound by blood. My friends here in Hawaii, the ones who didn't know my full story or real name, were the ones who made me feel like I belonged.

For the first time in my life, I wasn't defined by my past. I had graduated from my aesthetician course—an achievement that filled me with pride whenever I thought about it—and I was working at a day spa in Waikiki. Something I loved. Something that was mine.

As I slipped on my dress for the party, I felt a lightness in my chest. I wasn't living in fear nor was I weighed down by burdens that weren't mine. I was standing on my own two feet, carving out a future for myself in ways I'd never thought possible. And today, I wasn't just marking another 4th of July—I was celebrating freedom in a way I had never understood before.

The me from last year wouldn't recognise who I am today. She was buried under layers of debt, shame, and disappointment. But she had survived, and now, here I am—thriving, loving, and living a life I never imagined I could have. I was free in the truest sense of the word, and as I walked out into the kitchen to ensure everything was ready for the party that Yeo and I were hosting, I knew I would be celebrating with an open heart.

I was ready to embrace every bit of joy that came my way.

⋆⁺₊⋆ 🖤 ⋆⁺₊⋆

As we gathered around the large dining table, enjoying our lunch of burgers and hot dogs cooked on Yeo's grill by Woo and Hwa, the conversation turned to Jimin and Poppy.

"So, you two are officially trying? Are you gonna give Kealoha a little playmate?" Leilani teased, her smile directed at her son. Jongho looked like a proud uncle as he cradled the baby in his strong arms; he didn't even mind the hard tugs to his ears from Kealoha's tiny but strong hands.

In a straight face, Poppy replied, "No, we weren't trying." But her composure quickly faltered, a grin breaking through as she burst into laughter. "We're not trying because... I can't get knocked up twice!"

Her words lingered in the air for a moment, and stunned silence enveloped the table as everyone processed what she had just said. Eyes widened, glances were exchanged, and then, almost in unison, we all erupted into a joyous cacophony of cheers and laughter. Chairs scraped back as my friends leapt up, clapping and congratulating Jimin and Poppy, their excitement filling the air. The atmosphere buzzed with pure happiness, so electric that it felt as if we were all floating.

Leilani squealed with delight, while Woo and Hwa exchanged grins and high-fived Jimin, praising his 'strong swimmers'. Even Jongho, still cradling Kealoha, let out a celebratory whoop, joining the chorus of joy that swept through the room.

Yeosang, ever reserved, broke into a wide smile and pulled Poppy into a gentle hug, offering his quiet congratulations. Mingi and Yunho practically tackled Jimin with bear hugs, their booming laughter echoing off the walls as they celebrated.

Michelle threw her arms around Poppy, squealing as they both bounced up and down like schoolgirls. Their joy was so contagious that Leilani and I couldn't help but join in. Soon, all four of us were shedding happy tears.

San grabbed a handful of confetti from nearby decorations and showered it over Jimin and Poppy, laughing as the colourful bits rained down on them. "Congratulations! You two will be amazing parents," he declared, his eyes glistening with unshed tears of joy.

Hongjoong seized the moment, pulling a bottle of champagne from the fridge. He expertly popped the cork so it was sent flying and began pouring glasses for everyone—ensuring that sparkling apple juice was ready for the two mothers. "Here's to new beginnings and our growing family!" he declared, raising his glass high, inspiring everyone to join in the toast, our voices ringing with excitement.

"Yoongi is going to be thrilled to hear he's going to be an uncle," I said to Jimin as we carried plates into the kitchen. "You do realise we're going to spoil your kids rotten, right?"

Jimin threw his head back and laughed. "Yeah, you two will be the fun, cool Aunty and Uncle—definitely the ones they'll turn to when we're the 'big bad mean parents'." Then he sighed, looking at me seriously. "So, you really aren't planning on having kids?"

I exhaled deeply and shook my head. "I didn't have a great childhood or family life. Kids have never been something I wanted because how could I give them what I never experienced?"

I could tell Jimin didn't fully understand my perspective, but he surprised me by wrapping me in a warm hug. "Ultimately, whether you two have kids is a decision only you and Yoongi can make. I'll always support whatever choice you decide on."

♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸🖤¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪

I chuckled at the ridiculous antics of my friends who were lost in a world of laughter and tipsy shenanigans. Leilani, Poppy, and I stood apart, the only sober souls in the room, sipping on sparkling apple juice. For Leilani and Poppy, their restraint was expected; for me, it was a matter of responsibility. I was waiting for Yoongi's call to confirm he had safely landed at Daniel K. Inouye International Airport, and I needed to be clear-headed for the drive to pick him up.

Though I had held my driver's licence since I lived in Boston, I still didn't feel entirely confident behind the wheel. Just a few months ago, I had finally mustered the courage to drive again after years of hesitation.

As I made my way into the living room, I grabbed my phone from its charging station. An alert caught my eye and a thrill of anticipation surged through me. That was until I opened the message and it felt as if icy water had coursed through my veins. I stared at the words, reading them over and over, desperately hoping they would somehow shift and reveal themselves to be just a cruel joke. But the message remained unchanged, heavy with the weight of reality.

Little Lamb.

There was only one person who called me that. Instead of Big Jay and the Blue-Side Serpents tracking me down, they had found Yoongi first. A shiver ran down my spine at the thought. Part of me felt a flicker of relief at receiving this proof-of-life photo. My boyfriend was alive. Yoongi hadn't met the same grim fate as my ex, who bore the permanent scars of Big Jay's wrath. Yet that relief was quickly overshadowed by a tide of fear and anxiety.

As I clicked on the photo attached to the message, I fought to keep my tears at bay, my heart pounding as I took in the sight of Yoongi's battered face. Every instinct screamed at me to sob and scream, to unleash my frustration and terror at the cruelty of it all. But the chilling threat lurking in the message wrapped around me like a tightening noose, forcing me to swallow my anguish.

My heart ached at the thought of what Yoongi had endured to end up like this—his split lip, the dark bruise blooming around his eye, the deep laceration on his forehead, and the array of bruises that marred his skin. I couldn't shake the dread that settled deep in my bones at knowing that the gang I had been hiding from had somehow found him instead of me.

What had they done to him?

How much suffering had he endured because of what I'd witnessed?

The sight of his bruises and cuts—disfiguring his handsome features—felt like a cruel betrayal. Each mark told a story of pain, and the very thought of what he had faced alone sent waves of nausea through me.

I shuddered, wondering what horrors lay beneath his clothing. Was his body as battered and bruised as his face? The thought of him suffering alone sent a fresh wave of despair crashing over me, leaving me feeling helpless and terrified for his safety.

One thing was clear: Big Jay was using Yoongi to get to me. The fear was suffocating, a heavy weight that made it hard to breathe. I was terrified not just for his safety but for the implications of this encounter. My heart raced with anxiety, and I could only wonder how far they were willing to go.

Would either of us live to see tomorrow?

Unplugging my phone, I took a deep breath, steeling myself as I stepped out onto the deck. "Yoongi just messaged me; his flight has finally landed," I announced with a bright smile, forcing my voice to remain steady. I squared my shoulders, aware that Yeosang could easily sense any flicker of deception if I wasn't careful. When he didn't respond with the scrutinising curiosity that I'd feared, I added, "I'm going to head to the airport and pick him up."

The response was casual—nods and thumbs-up from my friends, their attention diverted by laughter and drinks. Poppy turned to me, her brow slightly furrowed. "Did you want me to come and keep you company for the drive?"

Normally, I would have welcomed the offer, but today was different. I couldn't let anyone join me; I had been warned not to let anyone know what was going on.

"No, it's okay," I replied, forcing a smile. "Knowing him, we'll probably end up... distracted somewhere secluded. I don't think you want to be subjected to that." I watched her shudder and grimace at the thought before I turned back toward my room. The moment the door closed behind me, I let out a shuddering breath, feeling the weight of anxiety settle heavily on my chest. I quickly changed out of my dress and into leggings and a comfy tee before grabbing my handbag.

With trembling hands, I let myself into Yoongi's apartment using the key he had given me. The fading scent of his cologne surrounded me, and tears stung my eyes as its familiar aroma washed over me. I fought against the rising tide of panic, reminding myself to be strong. I could afford to fall apart later—once he was safe and away from Big Jay's grasp.

I made my way to the framed photo of our friends, swinging the picture off the wall and towards me. When Yoongi had first revealed this hidden alcove, my eyes widened in surprise. I had never expected him to have a secret compartment for his keys, but then again, his job in cybersecurity meant he took all aspects of safety very seriously.

I picked up the keys to the sleek black Audi he had let me drive, my heart racing at the thought of taking it out again. The moment I'd seen that Quattro, I had fallen in love with it.

I slipped out of the apartment and into the elevator. Dread pooled in my stomach, each beat of my heart echoing the anxiety of the unknown. Would I get to him in time? Would he be okay, or was his proof-of-life picture just a ruse to draw me out of hiding? The questions spiralled in my mind as I made my way into the vehicle, a storm of worry churning inside me.

Just as I was about to turn the ignition, my phone chimed again, breaking the tense silence in the car. Hoseok was checking in, ensuring I was taking his messages seriously. A wave of realisation washed over me—I hadn't replied. I had been too stunned, too caught up in the whirlwind of emotions and fear to think about responding to his earlier message.

I quickly typed out a text; the moment I hit send, another text came in. This time, it was a question accompanied by three possible answers. My heart sank as I read each option, a boa constrictor of dread tightening around my stomach. The weight of the choices loomed over me, each one fraught with implications I couldn't ignore.

Only one answer resonated with me—the only option that didn't send chills racing down my spine. I hesitated for a moment, knowing the gravity of what was being asked. Finally, I replied that I would give him my answer in about twenty minutes when I arrived. The uncertainty gnawed at me. I steeled myself, focusing on getting there safely, despite the ticking clock that urged me to go faster.