Chapter 9 :
[ What It Takes To Be The Vilainess ]
• • •

I HAD BARELY CLOSED THE DOOR WHEN MY HEART SKIPPED A BEAT. On the old couch that was empty just that morning laid a crispy note and a knife.

All my life I had been watched, from an unknown corner, eyes following me everywhere I went. So, I can't quite explain why I was astonished to see the small piece of paper folded gently on my couch.

I took a few steps inside the room, reaching for the note, palms sweaty. It was almost falling apart along its fold-lines.

'Look behind you.
                  —Unknown'

My blood ran cold and fear settled at the pit of my stomach. I slowly turned around, roaming my eyes over the room, not quite sure what to expect. After all, the choices were many.

Rooted to the ground, my eyes rolled back and forth over, and over, and over again. At first, nothing seemed off, but then after multiple checking, I saw it. A small picture stuck between two books on my table.

Heart racing, I picked it up, and suddenly all I saw was that picture. Everything else faded away. I no longer heard the bubbling behind my door, nor the honking of the cars.

I couldn't believe my eyes.

In whatever angle the picture was taken, they made sure to show my face. I was changing clothes, wearing only shorts and a half-raised t-shirt, revealing the base of my black bra.

The longer I stared at it, the more frightened I got. The shot was snatched up close, four or five feet away from me. They probably took it from inside the bedroom.

I had imagined that things will eventually get out of hand but not this fast, nor this far.

Eyebrows furrowed, I turned the picture around only to find another message.

'Check your laptop.
                      —Unknown'

Without waiting any further, I turned on my laptop, plopping myself on the couch. Fingers beating violently against the keyboard, I clicked on a newly sent voice message.

They used a masked number.

While waiting for the first words, I glanced out of the window. It was dark outside. Pulling my gaze back to the laptop, I could see my own reflection on the screen.

There's still no sound.

Nothing.

I clicked again on the audio and waited.

"Luck. That's how you got through life."

The voice was a mere whisper and I couldn't discern to which sex it belonged.

"Guess what, Hwang Hiba? I will ruin you."

I let out a breath, eyes closing shut. "We'll see about that, " I said, pulling on the root of my hair a little.

"I feel sorry for you. Everyone, at least once in their life, would come off as assholes or liars or even insecure jerks. But you, Hiba..."

I leaned forward and shook my head, my lips stretching into a smile. Pathetic.

"...are kind of fucked up."

I felt a chill rush down my spine. Were they wrong? As sick as it sounded, they were perfectly right. I was fucked up. Sometimes I try to understand myself, the excitement of catching someone in act of...

"What were you trying to catch people in act of, Hiba? What do you want from them? Their misery? Their nightmares?"

I stayed silent, dark eyes alight with surprise. I had felt these words like a weight in my chest until I find myself stunned by how someone can know me so well.

"Who knows who I am? Who knows where I am standing right now? I am probably watching you from every corner..."

My head jerked up, eyes narrowing, searching for a hidden camera inside the bedroom.

"What are you searching for? A camera? Foolish."

I was helpless, all I could do was listen to the audio. The voice was more digital than human, more threatening than digital. It left a dry buzz in my ears.

"I took a peek inside your room earlier. And yes, I found what I expected—a bunch of camera equipment, photos, and codes lying around."

My face fell at the information.

"I really hope you don't look outside."

A quick glance at the window made me perceive a tall, thick tree. It was at the same level as my window frame. My breath hitched.

"How are you feeling, Hiba? Are you scared?"

I sat up straight and placed my elbows on both sides of the computer. I felt as if my heart was no longer mine as it pounded loudly in my chest.

"Take a deep breath. This is just the beginning."

The audio ended.

I stared blankly at the void, everything sinking in slowly. It happened so suddenly that I had to double-check the voice message to understand.

"Where did things go wrong?" I shook my head and reached back for my laptop.

Biting my lips, I slipped out of the message section and into the college file. There had to be evidence, an indication to blow my stalker's cover.

Across the file, I searched for the video cameras scattered in sector B where the lockers are located.

When I finally found what I had been looking for, I played the video. Sensing the bile rising in my throat, I watched carefully.

The cameras showed students pacing back and forth in the halls, bubbling animatedly. Nothing special.

However, if you observe attentively, you could perfectly perceive a person clothed in black, opening my locker. Breath caught between my lips, I narrowed my eyes. They wore a hood and avoided the cameras like the plague.

Smart.

I couldn't get a glimpse of their face. Watching the video, I had a moment of pure guilt where all I could do was sigh. I didn't know what to think, my mind so conflicted.

This couldn't have happened if I had been cautious.

• • •

"What is your idea of the perfect murder?" The teacher, Miss Ah, asked.

Many hands shot up but I defeated them all by simply standing. "The perfect murder would be one for which you were never apprehended or considered a suspect," I said confidently. "If the process of your murder involves a struggle with the victim, make sure to clean their fingernails afterward. You should get rid of every evidence."

"Is that all, Miss Hwang?"

"Dump the body in a separate place than the murder scene or burn it," I smiled at Miss Ah. "That's how you will get away with murder."

"Are you planning to kill the person with a knife?" The teacher lifted a brow and I nodded. "How is that going to kill them?"

"It really just depends on what you hit, what part of the body. If you hit the head or a blood vessel of the heart, they would bleed out quickly and die."

Miss Ah grinned. "Perfect, Miss Hwang. It's a pride to have you in my class."

I sat back, satisfied. Next to me, Noor was sweating heavily, shocked that I had answered the teacher so easily.

"Girl, I am fucked—"

"Miss Kim, could you please elaborate on what Miss Hwang just said?"

Noor winced and stood, adjusting her hijab nervously.

"Huh..." She laughed awkwardly. "What did she say?"

I mentally facepalmed, pushing the textbook in front of her. She gave me a thankful look.

"Oh, right. It's just not that hard to kill someone with a knife," Noor started, staring at the teacher dead in the eyes. "Just stabbing a vital organ or slicing the windpipe could end it during seconds."

The teacher nodded. "Good, Miss Kim. But pay more attention next time."

Noor sat and sighed. "What a nightmare. Thank you."

• • •

I walked slowly to the 'Newspapers and Magazine' club. The afternoon sun shined through the university's windows, brightly casting my numb expression.

When I finally reached the club, I switched the lights on and pushed away the many boxes dispersed in the doorway, the piles of books, the endless motley items, the cameras, and the strings hanging from the ceiling where numerous pictures were pinned, to eventually sit in my coffee table.

without warning, my brain played yesterday's images. Yoongi and Jackson's kiss wasn't sweet and affectionate, but one that required pleasure and desire. I highly doubt they were dating.

I opened my laptop, scrolling down my album photos, and as expected the pictures were there.

"Oh Lord, each day we grow further from your light, " I said, gawking at the image incredulously.

Yoongi's tongue pressed to the entrance of the younger's lips and sheltered inside his mouth. It was a very sloppy kiss. The elder's hands were locked around Jackson's neck, pulling him against him, while the latter had his arms around Yoongi's waist. They were as close as two humans could be.

Jimin deserved better, deserved to be fought for. Yoongi will make him cry, will break his heart into pieces. The saddest truth was realizing that they can't be a thing.

I signed and without thinking twice, I hit the 'publish' button.

"Done."

Growing up, I had lost every last shred of empathy I had. People stopped mattering to me. They could be dying in front of me and I wouldn't move a muscle to help.

"I should probably check the feedback, " I said. Fiddling with my lower lip, I watched as the number of views escalated tremendously. People were going crazy in the comment section.

@ yuna.yuni : Yoongi Oppa is gay? Oh my god! That's priceless!

@ Hyemi.Official : he can be bi or pan, not especially gay

@ Markie : Who is the other guy? Can someone send me his phone number?

@ Felix : You can be whatever you want to be; gay, bi, pan, asexual, straight, and everything in between. As long as you are not a jackass, I will treat you humanly.

@ minhoe : I'm depressed and I need someone to talk to
@ Hanie : @ minhoe I've been in front of ur door for 2 hours now—

@ jisoo.official : well, well, well, well, if this isn't karma

@ GucciKing : I've always seen the rainbow above Yoongi's head, honestly
@ coconut.head : You've all seen it lmao

@ JEONGIN : They won't have kids?
@ Felix : @ JEONGIN *facepalms* never heard of adoption ?

@ straight.club : It's not my business, you can't tell someone how to raise their kid.
@ gay.club : @ straight.club I've seen you kissing Minjoon the other day. Yes, very straight as long as you say no homo.

@ heyitsroya : Are they kissing?
@ UniqueInBed : @ heyitsroya no, fucking. Is you blind?
@ heyitsroya : @ UniqueInBed and you clearly don't know how to conjugate
@ UniqueInBed : @ heyitsroya *leaves you on seen*

Suddenly, my phone started buzzing in my bag, and without checking the identity of the caller, I answered.

"Hello?"

"What have you done?" The voice made me jump at how powerfully it echoed through my electronic device. "What have you done?"

I raised a brow. "What do you mean?"

"You've ruined everything."

Then I heard a sob through the phone and a few cars rushing back and forth as if they moved two hundred kilometers per hour.

"Why are you doing this to me?"

"Jimin, baby," I said softly, massaging my scalp, sensing a building migraine. I was tempted to search for my painkillers in my aid kit but I couldn't leave Jimin in this state. "What happened?"

"T-The pictures!" Jimin screamed so loudly that I had to prey the phone away from my ear to not turn deaf. "Why didn't you tell me?"

I sighed. "Tell you what, Jimin?"

"About Yoongi," he choked out a cry. "Why didn't you tell me first? Why didn't you—"

"Please don't say those stupid words," I paused. "Keep your nose out of this. It's none of your business."

"It is literally my business."

"So what? What if he really was interested in you?" I said, pinching the bridge of my nose. "You guys will start talking out of the blue. He will compliment you and tell you how beautiful you are. He will ask about your past and painful relationships and you will ask him for his. When you will tell him about how you've been hurt multiple times, he will tell you that they were all morons for letting you go. The next morning, he will text you and you will smile until your cheeks hurt. You will think about how different he is from your ex. When you meet up for the second time, you will feel even more chemistry with him and you will feel butterflies in your stomach. However, as soon as you start clinging to him, he will stop texting. You will ask him if anything is wrong and he will tell you that everything is fine," I huffed bitterly. "Your story will end before it began and you will be left with a broken heart again."

A heavy silence followed and all I heard was his breathing. Beneath me, the chair felt more palpable as the tension grew.

"Every day, you resemble more and more to your father," he said and hung up.

Blood drained from my face, I stared at the device in my hands. Never before had Jimin talked to me like this.

"Damn it!" I sent my phone waltzing through the air, hitting the wall hard. "Why do I always voice my thoughts?"

Shortly afterward, while taking a deep breath, I marched to the other side of the room to check on my device. The screen was cracked and the fissures connected at the base, forming an arc.

Fantastic. A free makeover.

• • •

In the deep moment between sleep and waking, I heard the door slam hard into the wall. Completely knocked, I pushed myself up from the coffee table, trying to recover my full mental abilities.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" The voice was deep, anger seeping from each word. "Didn't I tell you to delete the pictures?"

Before I had the time to turn around, I got propelled to the wall with force and two strong hands pinned my wrists to each side of my head. I tried to release myself but quickly realized how impossible it was.

With each attempt to escape, he tightened his grip until my blood could no longer reach the tip of my fingers.

"That hurt you son of a bitch," I spat, glaring at Namjoon. "Can you just fuck off already?"

"You're so pathetic."

I had a brief instant to catch my breath before he pressed me further to the wall. I felt my bones rub against each other from all the strength he used and I was ready to hit his crotch if needed.

"I can break your arm if I want to," Namjoon said next to my ear and I felt a chill course down my spine.

Looking back at him, I saw the anger in his face and I gulped. "Breaking my arm? Is this how little you think of me?"

"Are you testing my patience, huh?" He furrowed his brows. "I told you to leave my friends alone."

"I did."

"Why did you post the pictures then?"

"It's my job."

"What job?!" Namjoon screamed, digging his fingers in my flesh. I cried out with the pain. "You're nothing! Did you hear me? Nothing!"

Suddenly, I lost my balance and for a space of two or three seconds, things seemed to hang around me, almost stop. I let out a high-pitched yell as I tugged his clothes, which led us both to smash against each other.

The last thing I saw before my head hit the wooden table was the clock flashing 6 P.M. before he pushed his hard skull against my forehead, my eyes rolling to the back of my head.

If I had known how bad of an idea that was I would have never published the pictures.

• • •

Author note: This is getting creepier and creepier. Just get ready.

This chapter is a little bit clumsy at the end, sorry for that. Also, I am not sure when exactly I will publish the next part, get ready for some random updates.

Thank you everyone for your kind words <3 It made me VERY happy!

P.S: Daechwita is FIREEEE! SORRY I STILL DIDN'T GET OVER IT!