It had all happened so fast.

Namjoon's ears were ringing, his mouth was bleeding, and his eyes were barely adjusting to the lights that peeked through the stares go glass that broke around him.

The impacts of the glass were the worst. Barely even seeing where the bullets were actually aimed, Namjoon grew confused through his injured state. Here he sat, accidentally hurting himself. They didn't call him the god of destruction for no reason...

"Y/N?"

Nothing.
Just the ringing in his ears,
The muffled screams and shouts coming from outside,
And the throbbing of his head that pounded away at his skull, begging to rip out and be free of the control Namjoon's distressed state had on it.

He had heard you scream his name. That's what finally got him away from his hiding spot; body moving tripping over to the main front door.

Namjoon wanted to scream out his presence back, wanting you to know that he heard you. But he couldn't say anything. His voice cracked and that ended in him swallowing up more blood than intended.

He remembered wobbling towards the front, trying to stay clear of bullets that suddenly stopped.

Weak, dizzy, and feeling the need to throw up the dinner he had taken into his growling stomach the night before. Namjoon couldn't tell if he was nauseas from his injury, his hunger for breakfast, or this situation currently.

When he got to the door, you screamed louder. You screamed for him and he could hear you practically crying over the wavers present in your tone of voice.

His heart broke. Yet, everything he tried in that moment was too hard and fast for him to muster about. Collecting himself, debating on his acts, and drilling up power in his legs, when Namjoon finally got out, the only thing that was loud was his ears tuning out on their own.

His jaw clenched when realizing he was late and mixed in with whatever was left of the shit-show that was sprung forward onto this day.

You were gone.

What was left was the security that were shrivelled, defeated and unable to cope with the idea of you gone without them trying, and a bleeding Aoroma who was whimpering and crying as she stood onto her feet.

Namjoon's world then slowed, then cooled. His eyes soft when staring at the girl he had doubted. The girl he questioned in his mind just before the attack went down. His eyes softened and remained soft. He felt like an idiot. And idiot that was so close to accusing an innocent girl, who was now shot and crying before him, over the mess created by the one and only Jules.

There was anger in his pulsing veins. Namjoon felt the blood rush and splash around in his beating brain. Head aching more than earlier.

"I couldn't save her," Aoroma said, eyes masking behind the hurt and innocence she mastered, "I couldn't get to her. They took her."

Namjoon nodded. He knew. Of course he knew.

It had all happened so fast.

He now was at the side of the bed. Hand moving gently over Aoroma's cold one as she lay asleep on the bed he slept on the past two days.

It was brighter outside. It made him feel uneasy over how determined the sun was to get through the cracks of the curtain that whisked in the air. Wishing to get up and close the window shut. He didn't. He couldn't.

Namjoon had stayed frozen this way, hand growing sweaty over Aoroma's for the past few hours. Breakfast and lunch he missed, his eyes on the innocent girl he thought of, to be shot and resting.

The security had patched her up, helping the girl as much as they could. The bullet hadn't pierced through her like he had thought.

Originally, there was so much blood. So much, to the point he freaked and aimed at the conclusion of her demise. But here she lay, breathing and with colour at her cheeks. The bullet had simply grazed her shoulder a little.

It was a close call. She was safe. Namjoon was glad she was safe, feeling burdened to have questioned her intentions earlier for even a second.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, hand a wet mess on top of her cold one.

Namjoon couldn't help but feel clammy and unsettled. Everything about this moment, this morning, and the events of Aoroma's injury made him sick.

"There's no need for you to say sorry oppa," she hoarsely managed to breath out.

Namjoon's tired eyes met hers. He was weak to talk so he simply smiled.

Aoroma smiled sweetly back at him before squeezing his hand with hers. "She's a fighter," she suddenly reassured, understanding and reading where Namjoon's mind kept moving to, "Y/N is probably trying to roll out of their grasps this very moment."

His weak smile drifted away. Staring at, he noticed her kind eyes and swallowed.

"I'm sorry you've been hurt. We're getting BangPD over with a few doctors...I made the urgent call after the events of this morning."

She nodded. Her face so petite. So innocent. So kind. Namjoon's heart hammered and pained all in one. She was kind to him and he doubted her. His teeth were a gritting mess as he allowed for his fingers to leave her hand that tried to settle down his worried face.

"Namjoon oppa?"

He nodded for her to speak.

Aoroma smiled, her eyes squinting. "Thank you for helping me get patched up. There was so much blood." She giggled.

Namjoon's weak smile was back at the laughter. There was a positivity within her that almost made him feel like everything was bound to be alright. Even at his darkest moment, his most doubtful hour, that smile made him feel slightly more hopeful.

But it was nothing like your smile. Your voice. Your eyes. Your lips that curved. Nothing about that positive aurora matched how you easily brought forth a smile on his face when you joked around, danced around, or weirdly creeped him out at times. She wasn't you.

Namjoon's weak smile disappeared a second time.

Aoroma seemed to notice the tenseness. Feeling her stomach roll in disgust over the facts; she knew what he was thinking about. It was clearly written on his face that fell in and out of thoughts.

Opening her mouth to speak and ask about you, Namjoon's head darted to the door when there was a knock.

Aoroma's lips sealed shut when a security peeked through, making his presence made. He was soft, head ducked, and apologizing for disturbing a conversation that was doomed since it started.

"Sorry for the interruption sir," the man began, "...but BangPD seems to have arrived. They flew over as fast as they could instead of travelling my car."

Namjoon nodded. "How many are they?"

"Sorry?"

"How many security are with him?"

"More than all our fingers can count," the man sighed out, seeing as this morning was clearly worrying the boss that had originally sent them here to be protected.

Aoroma glanced at Namjoon's back muscles tense. He slowly sat up, cracked his neck from aching up too much, and found life in his legs again. Namjoon stood up.

As he did, he felt a little faint. Blinking away the blackness that wished to consume him, he shut his eyelids before capturing them in light after opening them again. More stable and able to walk, he tried to ignore the pain his mouth gave him.

No wonder his head hurt. His mouth had been bleeding earlier as a tooth had chirped and duck into the side of his inner cheek that was now slightly punctured open. Pooling of blood, now was nothing but skin trying to mend and melt itself. But the impact of the crash his jaw had to the ground clearly sending aftermath shocks to his brain.

It made him angry that he couldn't talk so freely, let alone imagine eating anything now.

"Is he downstairs?"

The security nodded.

"Take care of Aoroma. Watch over her and get anything she needs. If she pleases, you can also find some rest as soon as possible. It was a terrible morning."

Aoroma smiled lightly at that. Seeing the two talking, her free hand that wasn't glued to the bed as support moved to grab her phone that was at the bed-side table. Opening it and looking for a particular name to message, she smiled before writing two words.

'Nice shot,' she wrote to Sato.

The shot, her falling to the ground, the bullet simply grazing her and not killing her—all of it was her plan and she was glad it worked out for the better of her. Seeing the eyes of Namjoon, it was clear her innocence was bought back and stronger than ever. There was no way he would choose to doubt her now. Not now. Not ever.

The security nodded, stern and taking his job seriously as he stood straight and directly made eye contact with Namjoon. He then looked at Aoroma who put her phone back to the surface next to her.

Namjoon followed his gaze, smiling lastly at Aoroma and then skipped past the security and made it to the railing in which he clung on.

Having it for support, he passed by another largely built man and the alarmed driver by the stairs once reaching the final cut at the bottom.

His stare was blank when meeting true worried eyes of BangPD and the empty eyes of the security that were standing and moving along with the boss that thrusted himself through the doors of the house; embracing Namjoon quick.

Namjoon let his chin sink into the man's shoulder. Shutting his eyes, the leader let himself breathe out loud. Even with BangPD here, with the extra security, and knowing nothing was going to happen further, the boy didn't feel safe.

That made his eyes water as he lightly took in a breath and completely hid his face into the sweater that his boss through on himself.

Meanwhile, Aoroma was smiling to herself upstairs when she excused the guard to go and rest. When he urged to stay, thinking about Namjoon, Aoroma tried to be sweet and assure him that she was alright and was just going to sleep.

"Then I'll guard the door. Let me know if you need anything at all." It was the security that had been with her during the shooting. He had witnessed it and felt bad for not being about to do his job and protect her from being harmed; just like how everyone felt bad over you being taken and not protected.

"I will."

He nodded curtly then scouted out. The door closed soft behind him as he made sure not to make much noise with the exit.

Aoroma shut her eyes, trying to ease and relax on the bed but she couldn't contain her huge grin. 

Then her phone buzzed and she was smiling larger as she picked it up. It was Sato with his reply.

'Both are where they should be.'

-

'Both are where they should be.' Sato typed and sent the message.

You watched his tense back relax over what he had previously read on the phone.

Without a word, he left. You were tied, back in slight darkness that filled the chamber-like room, and you were staying put next to another form that was dreadfully stinking from the days of torture she had probably endured.

"Sarah?" You questioned, remembering how awful you had felt the minute you had seen her.

You had trusted her with the USB, with Kennah's reputation, and with your own life. To see her here made you think of all different types of theories. The most important being that they probably had their hands on the USB now. Your eyes softened for Namjoon and his group.

It wasn't supposed to be this way.

The girl smirked weakly, her head ducked and her hair dirty as it stuck to her face from sweat.

"Surprised to see the girl that never gets caught, caught?" She teased and then coughed abruptly. It was almost as if she hadn't talked in a long while until her sights had seen you get caught right next to her.

"A little," you whispered, now worried for her. "What happened?"

"They found my brothel. They threatened to hurt my girls," Sarah said through her teeth, "I didn't have quite a choice. Less blood shed equals less guilty conscience."

"You just let them have you? Have the USB?" You asked in soft disbelief, "That doesn't sound like the Sarah I knew."

The girl chuckled. It made your skin crawl. The laugh didn't sound right. You could tell it was hard for the woman to breathe easily next to you. You wondered how much damage they had probably already done to her lungs.

"You underestimate me. I'm hurt."

"Enlighten me on how," you said softly, not understanding her beating around the bush.

"I got rid of the USB the minute I heard word over Jules not being Jules."

You were confused.

"What?"

"The leader of them...the one that controls everything that happens to me...what happens to the famous idol group you were rooming with—ya, she isn't Jules."

"Then who is she?"

"She uses that name and has all these people call her from that name, because she doesn't want to be caught as her real self or by her real name," Sarah explained, having struggle. "Apparently, the woman picked the name 'Jules' as her stage name because she had something against the high-end reporter across town. Jules Yellio."

Your eyes widened. She remembered the woman on the tape with Namjoon and her mind started to run and put the pieces together. The woman on the tape was Jules Yellio, the real Jules. She was on the tape because this mysterious woman, the one that wanted to end Namjoon's career...she was after the reporter too.

But why? Why try to ruin BTS and an innocent reporter that just so happened to sleep with Namjoon?

"What has she got against Jules? The reporter?" You asked, seeing if Sarah knew anything more.

"Word is that the reporter was the woman that Namjoon ditched their leader for. She's jealous and clearly has some issues when not knowing how to deal with rejections easy."

"She's trying to destroy the reporters life just because she slept with Namjoon as well?"

Sarah nodded. "I'm surprised she hasn't gone after every woman he's touched."

You pursed your lips, letting the information brought before you sink in.

You needed the answer to one more question. When you asked it, Sarah grinned. She nodded before telling you the truth and all of it.

"If this twisted girl's real name isn't Jules, then what is it?"

-

"Aoroma."

The girl whined when the security that helped her down the steps of the trashed home; seemed to handle her with care.

"Easy," BangPD scolded, staring at the girl with warmth as he greeted her and instantly got her to move towards the cars that were parked out.

Her brows knit. "Where are we going? Wasn't there an order to stay here for another week?"

"That was before you were all pulled in on weapons and herds of extremists. I don't understand who these people are or who they work for, but I do know that they will not be getting a chance to hurt any of my staff again." BangPD seemed furious yet sad when guiding the injured girl towards one of the cars.

"And Y/N?"

BangPD's teeth grit. "She's with them now. They wanted her and they got her. This may sound harsh but mixing her in with the boys was a bad decision on my part to begin with."

Aoroma tried not to smile at that.

"So...are you not going to try and get in contact with her?"

He shook his head. "The best I will do is call the authorities. Other than that, Namjoon nor the other boys will be involving themselves with this mess."

Aoroma nodded. "I think that's for the best. Wouldn't want them to be the ones shot."

His eyes softened as Aoroma had her door open. Slowly getting into it and glancing at a tense Namjoon that was in the corner of his own seat by the intern's side, she tried not to smile at them sharing a ride before looking back at the big boss.

"You've been a great sport considering you've been shot...you're probably confused over everything as well and I'm thankful that you aren't asking questions."

Aoroma smiled before meeting Namjoon's eyes. Her hand moved to creep and hold onto the man's hand next to her. It was a surprise that Namjoon hesitantly held her hand back.

"I'm beyond confused but know known of you need it," she chuckled out, eyes glinted with hope. "I'm frankly just tired and excited that we're flying home instead of riding."

The man nodded. Her door shut and cars started to panic in lively sounds. It was as if the deadly quiet streets were once again so loud.

Aoroma glanced over at Namjoon. His eyes moved over to her and she hesitantly moved to lean against his shoulder. Seeing him not move, she smiled to herself before snuggling into him. Allowing his warmth to cloud her.

Namjoon grew a little stiff. Did he move? No. He glanced at her shoulder that was newly patched out and revisited by the doctors that had joined BangPD and were travelling back now.

Feeling the car move, he looked away from the wound on the girl's shoulder, letting her lay against him.

Namjoon stared at the cottage as it became smaller and smaller in vision. Soon, it was a speck and disappearing with a blurriness that made his head spin.

His stomach grumbled.

He thought of you. He thought of dinner with you, and he thought of the way you smiled when listening the the music he closely stuck by you through. Namjoon thought of the way you complimented his voice, his art. He thought of the way you kissed him before running off when he sweetly mentioned him being sick.

He thought of you.

Then he heard you screaming out for him to help you and his eyes shut.

"I'll save you," he whispered under his breath.