(This chapter contains suicidal themes and violence. My dear readers, if any of you are sensitive to the aforementioned, please read with caution. Or skip this chapter and wait for the next one if it is too uncomfortable. :)

"Get. The. Fuck. Out."

You swear you can nearly see a vein surface on Bora's flushed neck. As she continues yelling and staring down the man to a pulp, you catch a wink of his genuine confusion. By now the man has endured enough of a lashing to mimic the look of a damp puppy in a back alley; scared to pieces!

"YOU FUCKING LITTLE PRICK! JUST WAIT UNTIL I GET MY HANDS ON YOU, I-"

The both of you watch as the man exits the premise - well, you watch as he leaves. Bora is currently being restrained by the bouncer-like grip of your aunt.

"Bora! You cannot just go around cursing out customers like that!" Your aunt frees Bora from her grasp and heaves a heavy sigh. Thanks to your sister, it looks like she just lost another valuable customer.

"Seriously though, props for kicking the slimeball's ass." She breaks the ice and high fives your sister, the two chuckling as if what had happened moments prior reaps zero effect on the two. Your aunt breaks into a brilliant British accent, "Impeccable performance my dear! Holding the Lee name with a dash of badass as usual. My, you are certainly one of my nieces."

With your aunt's arm slung around her shoulder, Bora plays along. "Yes, couldn't have said it better myself!"

"Say, you fancy a beer?" Your aunt bursts into an adorable chuckle.

"Was the word yes invented for any other reason?"

This has you dumbfounded.

The two continue to jabber in other nonsense that you've just tuned out.

What the hell is happening?

Is nobody really going to acknowledge the fact a shady man in a suit managed to duck the security and go completely unnoticed?

"Umm... Guys?"

They stop mid-skip and turn back with confused expressions. Suddenly Bora gasps apologetically. She dashes over to you and takes your hand in hers. "Oh yeah! Sis, wanna come?"

You roll your eyes. "To get shitfaced drunk? Ha, yeah right."

Bora smirks.

"Exactly."

❈

The corners of Yoongi's lips crack with the urge to fight back as the grinding of heavy metals slamming into his wrists. He attempts to twist out of the puzzle knotted behind his back, only to earn a threatening snarl from the man clutching his right.

"Don't make me hit you sir."

Yoongi thrashes his head back in a dryly sardonic chuckle. "Why? Afraid to miss your next paycheck?"

Yoongi wishes he retracted those words as the bodyguard lodges his fist fresh into Yoongi's side. He grunts in a roughed up wince as the man retracts his balled hand. "Probably deserved that one."

Returning a crooked grin, the bodyguard shakes his head.

The rest of the journey through the twisted halls of Yoongi's youth passes in a blur. A heavy must have familiarity has him all choked up as he passes by various turns and smiling maids - they had always been there for him when The Madame was not.

Veering towards the corridor leading to his old bedroom, Yoongi's feet momentarily grow heavy like cement. His breath falls hauntingly still.

Everything... had been the same.

The light curtain are tucked back, allowing just enough of the evening golds to drench his every possession. And there, across the foot of his bed, was his book shelf of the many tales he'd read for hours on end as a sweet boy. He still remembers the sensation of being cradled in his idol's arms, and read to until lolled into a cozy slumber.

Yoongi gasps when a hand is slicked onto his shoulder. "Sir, we mustn't delay much further, The Madame is expecting your company."

It's the guard.

The guard...

Yoongi's gaze flickers to the vacant space on the platform.

"Where is it?" He growls.

"Sir, we must-"

"I said where is it you motherfucker!?" Adrenaline is pumping through Yoongi's blood as he breaks loose from the grip of the two guards. He bashes into the bedroom and bolts past the main entrance and dives straight into the washroom.

His fingers clutch at the lock, body maneuvering unnaturally to twist the nob.

Multiple pounds against the hardwood crush Yoongi's sympathy as yelling ensues.

"The madame-! The Madame, Sir-!"

"Can rot in hell!" Even to himself Yoongi's voice comes across as sharp. He sinks down to his knees and leans his head back against the door, whimpering, "Everything... is gone."

His gaze falls still along the rims of the medicine cabinet, door swinging in and out invitingly like it had done before one too many times before...

"Where is the cabinet lock?" The words flowed off Yoongi's cracked lips like water. By now, he'd been so used to the nightly arguments outside his door that he would just block it out, as if in intense focus.

He would hug his knees tightly along his chest and rock against the door. This daze... it made him feel as if he's choking. As if he's going crazy.

The countless things they said. The countless things she said. None of it matters anymore. Nothing will ever fix this trauma - he's turned into this nightmare glowing as a fake daydream and knows it.

He will never be the same.

Ridden with temptation, Yoongi's gaze flickers to the orange bottles snickering back at him. Pain...

Pain...

Damn pain...

Nothing has meaning anymore.

A heart riddled with years of damage will never come undone by even the kindest of lies. The worthlessness of his existence is more clear than ever. Nobody loves him.

They hate him.

They are burdened by him.

They don't understand him.

And for those who claim they do care while bearing cruel smiles...

If for a second they loved anything as loveless as him, they'll let him go.

Yoongi's eyes never leave his own empty reflection as he reaches for the full bottle, spilling its contents into the other palm. He can feel his own soul draining from him as he shakily raises his hand to his trembling lips.

What meaning does life even have anymore?

His heart died too long ago to even remember.

And before his eyes could even roll to the back of his head and send his body flying into the ground, death came calling at his front door.

❈

As the walls of the room spin to life, so does a queasy Yoongi. He lurches forward to sit up, only to be quickly restrained by the cords of his own consequences. As The Madame ushers the doctors from the room, this pounding, terrifying feeling seeps deep into his chest.

"Please give us a second to speak alone doctors... I'd like to have a moment to speak with the patient... alone."

A long, thick silence hovers the atmosphere.

Quaking, Yoongi starts first, "I-I-"

The Madame does not bust an inch. Rather, those deep, unforgiving cold planets that Yoongi saw every day - because he too, had them - are now assaulting their next victim. Eventually, she rises from her seat and puffs a resentful sigh, "Do you have any idea what you have done?"

"I know. I-I didn't think it would be like this. I just thought maybe..."

"Maybe that you could hurt the company's reputation!? That you could damage my reputation!?" Her screams echo off the dull walls.

But.. She had been right.

The media, they are ruthless when it comes to a scandal, and he'd just handed one to them on a silver platter. His idol, his father, and the very foundation that he built, is now suffering at the hands of his own son.

His own... blood.

The thought sends a shattering shiver down Yoongi's spine. "I'm sorry..."

She grunts, pinching the bridge of her nose. "You really-! Do you know why your mother left you huh?" She rattles the side of his bed, teeth gritted tight enough that Yoongi's worried she'll snap her jaw. "Listen to my words closely boy. I might have committed to your father, but never did I ever commit to a scum like you. And your mother... Do you know who put that tumour in her head? You."

Yoongi's eyes well with tears. "No... It's not true..."

"She could've gotten treatment - almost did - but you! You made her foolishly choose her limited time with you rather than getting treated in another country. Her death is because of you."

"No! It can't be!"

"Because of your needless clinging, you killed the only person who ever loved you. You hurt everything you touch. You, are a murderer!" She barks.

"IT'S NOT TRUE!"

In that moment so much had bursted through Yoongi, that not even the sounding of alarms or shattered medical equipment matched the intensity of the wrath in his merciless voice. His blood prickled with so much anger that nothing in that moment mattered.

That is, until his ears followed the horrifying sound of altered breathing.

Feet dangled from the floor and a pounding weight had suddenly become put on Yoongi. When he looks up, only then does he realize where his hand had been tightly clutching.

He wanted to stop squeezing but his mind would not listen to his cries.

Unfazed as blood pours down her lips, The Madame simpers, "See? Just kill me already. Then you can finally get the title you deserve."

Remaining as spiteful as ever, even when her eyes flicker with death, suddenly she drops to the floor, gasping for air. Yoongi remains frozen in place as he shudders with disbelief, words swirling around him endlessly.

Murderer Murderer

Murderer

Murderer

Murderer

Murderer

Murderer

MURDERER

He notices his hand print on her neck. He... He had caused that.

What has become of him? Since when he ever such a monster?

On the ground on all fours, she laughs dryly, "You're so pathetic. Letting you heart stand in the way of your dark desires... You're too week to even earn vengeance and spill the blood of guilty hands." She laughs. "And to think you thought you'd ever mean anything more to me. That a demon like you could ever be my own..." She licks the blood trickling down her lips, "You're so loveless."

Hands grab on his shirt, ripping him away from the woman for the longest time he had fooled himself into confiding to. The woman he was hoping one day, even slimly so, he could call his... mother.

"Call security!"

Monster.

Yoongi scoffs while peering at the orange bottle with heavy resentment.

It seems the yearning for distance never fades, even with time.

He tucks his head in his own embrace, "What was I thinking, believing that someone saw me as more...?" He stops mid-sentence, heart wrenching when thinking about you. Every detail, from his favourite smile to the way your hair dances in the wind, he cherished it all. Only, now, as he slips deep into his insecurities, he wonders.... Do you truly love him?

Would you put anything at stake to protect him?

Would you be willing to leave your life behind to commit in his crazy world?

Would you... accept the person he is?

And not the title?

"Harder!" The guard's bark slams Yoongi out of his brooding. At this point he's lost all hope of escaping this metaphorical torture house, rather, shifting to the end of the washroom and waiting for the door to come falling.

Eventually, the slap of wood to tiles hits his ears, and next dozens of arms wrestle for a grip on his body. He's dragged to his feet all the while in a hazy blank. He couldn't remember how long the walk was, nor much of what he passed by when heading to her.

Yoongi's breath hitches and a furious hiss carries out into the breeze and the guard hits his baton against Yoongi's back. His spine cracks like a fresh glow stick.

And before he knew it, Yoongi found himself kneeling on the ground, a familiarly long fur coat peering a few steps ahead in his vision.

Petrified as he leers at the trail of plucked rose petals, she turns her head ever so slightly.

The Madame's lips tear into a snarl as she plucks the last petal off her rose, "I've been waiting a long time for you... Son."

BTSgotJams_170

2019/06/09