The Boss's office was packed with the men I saw minutes before. His large oak desk was buried with papers and manila folders whose contents were splayed among the sea of words and black and white mugshots. Taeyong held himself up with stiff arms, his freshly dyed bangs falling over his eyes. His head dangled towards the desk, and through his bangs I could see a deep and defined frown holding buckets full of rage.

   Jungwoo led us both to the front of his desk, his footsteps alerting the man, causing him to lift his head menacingly slow. His eyes were dark and set ablaze, one look from him can send your heart plummeting into your stomach. He gave Jungwoo a simple glance before rising to his full height at the sight of Mark and I, well mostly Mark.

   "What's the situation, Boss?" Mark's question sounded more like a command than anything else.

   "Is everyone I requested here, Jungwoo?" The man nodded, earning a curt 'good' in return. 

   "Then let's get straight to the point. After some detailed investigation about these suspected 'boys' that took our shipment, we came to find out that these weren't some teenagers fooling around at all," He paused, to add dramatic effect I'm not quite sure, "These boys work for one of the most dangerous and notorious gangs stationed in Melbourne: the Blood Angels are some shit, but their name doesn't matter right now. We have a bigger trash pile to take care of than we thought." Taeyong nearly spit the final words out of his mouth.

   If the room could've gotten any quieter, it just did. It was a mix of stunned quiet and an eerie quiet, and you could hear someone swallow as clear as day. Mark stood motionless for a moment before huffing and running a hand through his hair, the skin on his face stretching as his hand moved.

   "So how are we going to get it back?" Mark demanded, throwing his arm back down to his side.

   "Wouldn't we just take more guns and play it safe?" Jeno, who was off to my right, piped up. Taeyong chuckled wickedly, unhinging himself from his desk to amble around to its front.

   "I don't know if anyone beside me, Jungwoo, and Xiaojun know this, but the Blood Angels are as powerful and reckless as Monsters," I let out a slight gasp, earning me a few glares, "So if anything, we need to watch our backs and stay 110% alert." He finished his sentence with his eyes lingering on me, as if he was directing his order at me rather than the entire room.

   "They had to have taken our shipment for a reason," Johnny says, "No one just takes gun cartels for the hell of it." A series of nods and affirmative mumbles ripple across the room.

   "I mean if they are a pretty famous gang, I would think they would know us," I say, causing Mark to side-eye me over his shoulder. I send him a glare in return.

    "That is a good point..." Yuta commented, plucking a paper from the mess atop Taeyong's desk.

   "They most likely took our shipment on purpose. Probably to get us out to Melbourne, a place they think we aren't familiar with, and..." Mark stops and looks at Taeyong, who has the same irritated face as before.

   "And ambush us." Taeyong bitterly finished Mark's sentence.

   "Where did they take our shipment? Surely they didn't leave it in their backyard," Doyoung asked, positioning his hands on his hips.

   "The tracker looked to be in an abandoned warehouse. Somewhere off our port, and near our base in Melbourne," Xiaojun answered, tapping away on his phone in the corner of the room, isolating himself from the crowd of men.

   "You guys have your own port?" I asked, yet I already knew the reason as to why.

   "It's pretty self explanatory, ain't it?" Mark griped. I arched my eyebrows and took a step back, Mark's lips curling ever so slightly.

   "So should I re-evaluate what we're bringing so we can be sure we survive?" Doyoung interrupts me and Mark's wordless bickering.

   "Not entirely," Taeyong says, gliding his fingers along the edges of his desk, "Maybe a little more firepower and ammunition, and possibly another Spy, but I have faith my gang will prevail." He reached behind himself and retracted a crystal glass, half filled with caramel liquid. He took a prolonged sip, eyeing his men as they exchanged whispers and grumbles. The room had a thick cloud of slow burning rage brewing among its occupants, and it was starting to unsettle me. 'Someone has to blow their top soon.' I thought to myself.

   "I mean I could always grab Ten if you wanted," The curly black haired man proposed, shaking the curls curtaining his eyes. The mention of the mysterious man's name struck something in me, like the lock on a door finally breaking and it's contents spilling out. The memories that were locked away, either by my own will or from sheer forgetfulness, come flooding back, my eyes widening as those memories replay themselves in my mind.

   "Wait," I abruptly say, catching a few men off guard, "Ten... is your partner right?" He nods warily, a stern look in his eye. "Then you are Sicheng. Both of you are spies." Sicheng's eyebrow arches and a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips.

   "Good job," I smile at the man, who returns to his pensive state.

   "Ten would be a nice addition to our little field trip, have him liven up our sour moods. Fetch him for me, will you?" Taeyong waved a hand at him, gesturing to Sicheng to find the man aforementioned. Sicheng slipped past the crowd of men and out the room, shutting the door behind him with a loud thump.

   "Remind me what this meeting was about?" Lucas asked, rolling his pant strings between his fingers. He was leaned up against a bookshelf, his bicep bulging out from under his weight.

   "We're nearly done, Yukhei, all we have left is to inform Ten about our mission and look over our luggage, then we are all set. Planned to leave around late evening tomorrow, so we can get there unseen under the cover of darkness, but we may need to push that back a day. Or we may not, who knows," Taeyong's shoulders shrugged languidly. The men took his now relaxed, yet still on-edge, manner as a sign to loosen up, allowing for soft conversation to flow among the men. Mark sighed and dropped his head, taking a few steps closer to me.

   "Has Taeyong ever written anything?" Mark quirks an eyebrow. "Like a book or something." I ask.

   "Not that I know of, but I've heard that he used to write poems in his spare time, not that he has much spare time now," Mark lifts his gaze over to his boss, who looks lost in thought as he sips lightly on his whiskey. He looks oddly calm, like the matter at hand wasn't that bit of a deal. Mark, however, never let his jaw slack or his shoulders slump; he remained wired and agitated. It was obvious he took this more seriously than anyone else.

   "Boss." I turn to see Sicheng standing between the door and the doorframe, holding the door delicately in his fingers. "I brought Ten." From the corner of my eye, I could see Taeyong's face melt from calm to stern. Sicheng stepped aside and pushed the door open, allowing for a shorter man with long, ashy hair to walk in. He strolled in with his hands in the pockets of his track pants, eyeing the place and the men inside. He walked with a sense of pride and overwhelming confidence, and his charisma shone through his cat-like eyes. He knocked a long strand of hair from his eyes, before smirking.

   "You held a party and didn't think of inviting me?" He teased, his eyes falling onto Taeyong, who trailed his fingers along the rim of his glass. "And you brought alcohol! You each are in for it when we get done here."

   "Ten, this isn't the time." Mark fired through gritted teeth.

   The man scanned the room again, finally feeling the cloud of bubbling anger above each man that stood in front of him. His eyes narrowed and he stepped towards Taeyong, giving him an honorary bow of his head. Taeyong reciprocated the gesture, downing the final sip of his drink, before licking his lips clean and speaking.

   "I'm sure Sicheng hasn't informed you why you were called to my office," Ten shook his head, his bangs brushing at his eyelashes. "To put it simply, the boys who stole our shipment are affiliated with one of the gangs in Melbourne, the Blood Angels, whose power is equal to Strays."

   "So you need backup?" He questioned.

   "I wouldn't call it backup, but we're just taking extra precautions." Taeyong said. Ten raked a hand through his hair, letting out a lengthy sigh in the process.

   "Where was the shipment taken to?" He asked.

   "Abandoned warehouse. Couple minute walk from the base." Xiaojun answered, now standing next to Lucas at the end of the crowd.

   "Want me and Sicheng to scope it out before we proceed with anything... dangerous?" He hesitated with his final words, looking up at Taeyong as if asking for permission to say such a word.

   "That wouldn't be a bad idea. Give us the layout and find any crevices and dark corners that people could potentially hide in. Wouldn't hurt for you and Sicheng to get a head start either." Ten nodded hastily, almost excitedly.

   "Boss, two random people walking into an abandoned warehouse that has a stolen cartel of guns hidden in it sparks some questions. And I doubt they would leave it unattended. How are we going to be able to sneak Sicheng and Ten in without looking suspicious?" Johnny voiced, earning a sly smirk from the man.

   "You pose an interesting question, Johnny, but I have that all figured out," He slides a manila folder out from under the sea of papers and flicks through it. He fishes out a paper with faint scribbles and several black and white images with red circles sprinkling them. "To explain this mess, Ten and Sicheng are going to pose as reporters from a well known newspaper in Melbourne and investigate the beat up warehouse. If they get questioned by anyone, they'll say it's for a paper about why the place went out of business."

   "It'll give them the permission to just roam around and..." Yuta didn't finish his sentence, looking over at Taeyong, as if asking him to finish it for him.

   "Take some pictures, audio recordings, you name it. They are supposed journalists, and they have the right of free press. As long as they don't document anything too personal, they'll be in the clear." Sicheng and Ten slowly nod. Taeyong smiles, a smile that sent shivers running down my spine, and slaps the folder closed. He tosses it onto his desk, not bothering to clean up the mess, and claps Sicheng on the shoulder. The man weakly smiled.

   The men in the room decided that the meeting was over and started filing out. They each left silently, not informing their Boss that they were leaving. Sicheng nodded firmly as Taeyong whispered one last thing before lightly pushing them towards the door. Mark didn't bother leading me out, as he pushed past me and out the door, and Jungwoo looked at me sweetly before disappearing outside the room. I was left standing in the middle of Taeyong's office, just like when I was first called here months before. As if he manifested from the shadows, Kun appeared at Taeyong's side, holding out a slim, silver phone for him to take. Taeyong looked from the phone in Kun's hands to his face, inspecting it. Kun's jaw was set, his eyes burning holes into his Boss's. Taeyong's eyebrows quickly rose and fell before taking the phone from Kun and turning away, facing his windows as his voice lowered.

   Taeyong waved his hand dismissively, not bothering to turn our direction. Kun started for the door, beckoning me to follow. I trailed behind him, falling to his side when he shut the door with a defiant slam. He turned to me, and I thought I saw a smile grace his lips.

   "Now that this meeting is done, I suggest you go and freshen up. Your hair looks pretty..." He eyed me with a wry smirk. I glance at my freshly dyed hair, or strings, of hair. I looked like a wet dog to say the least. "Also one of the communication juniors, Jaemin I believe, was sent out to buy you some clothes that actually fit you, so you won't have to wear our old clothes that are four sizes too big." He descends down the stairs, looking over his shoulder at me. My eyes dropped down to my shirt, that hung over me like a blanket, and my pants, that were rolled up several times.

   "Yeah, I really do need a wardrobe change," I say, picking at my shirt like it smelled foul.

   Kun chuckles, rounding the banister and entering the main room. "And a shower. Go clean yourself up and change, you have a long day tomorrow." He bows his head, turning swiftly and fading into the shadows of the hallway branched off from the room. I sigh, the weight of my current situation setting in on me, and I drag myself down to my room.

   'Tomorrow is Melbourne, an expected, yet perfect, step in my plan.'

♢⟺♢

   As I twirl the butterfly knife between my fingers, my mind wanders from thought to thought. No one clarified or gave me a proper explanation on how I'm going to get to Melbourne. I don't know who I'm going with, or what I'm taking to get there. For all I know, I could fly there from a helicopter with Jungwoo. I mostly likely won't leave Mark's sight for the entire trip, so I will probably travel with him. A lot of people are going, and taking lots of cars can be suspicious, so I think they'll pack multiple people into a few cars. But as far as I know, Neo City is full of surprises, so I might be wrong.

   A muffled bang pulls me back to reality and I jolt up. I look widely around my room, my eyes scanning every little thing to see if my room was damaged. It room seemed intact and yet another bang, this time louder, vibrated off the walls. I slip off my bed, my feet tapping lightly as I tip-toed towards the door. I don't know what time it is, but I do know that no one else is awake. There has been the occasional slam of doors or running water from shower heads, but nothing this loud and sudden.

   I click the door shut, my palms spread flat across the wood. I hesitate, my breath caught in my throat, as the air around me thickens and quiets. I'm not sure why I started to become anxious, but the sound didn't come from a room down my hallway. Another bang, one that shook the walls, confirmed my suspicion. It was coming from behind the large glass doors at the back of the main room. I've seen some of the other members of the gang go into the room concealed by the doors, but I've never been in the room myself. I've caught glimpses inside, but it was only of the cream colored rock walls.

   I stood at the corner and peered at the door like it was alive. Another bang, this time louder than any others before it, boomed from behind the doors. A guttural yell, which sounded almost identical to a growl, followed the bang. I froze. 'Was someone breaking in? Did someone get hurt?' My thoughts spiral out of control, but my feet inch closer and closer to the glass doors, as if entranced by the foggy glass that swirled the rooms contents like wet paint. I find myself standing face first with the glass, my reflection messily staring back at me. I know I shouldn't open the door, but my bubbling curiosity got the better of me.

   I opened the door and my mouth fell open. Those glass doors could've held anything, but I never would have thought it would be an indoor pool. The pool had three areas, or squares, of glistening water. The one farthest to the left was connected to the middle, and largest, square. It was lined with a long, protruding bench that went all the way around the square. The square was shallow, the water most likely reaching just above your knees. The left square flowed into the large middle square, that gradually got deeper the further back you went. At the bottom right corner, there were two rounded handles, which were paired with small steps that I couldn't see. At the farthest right corner, there was another smaller square, almost identical to the one across the room from it. It had the same protruding bench, but underneath it were vents placed equal distance from each other. From the looks of it, it was a hot tub.

   The floor was tan-orange tiles along with the walls, except for the far back wall. Since this area was built underground, the back wall was rock. Jagged and rough, the wall stood out like a sore thumb, but it was a good variation. Sleek, mesh pools chairs were sprinkled around the edges of the pool. I pushed the door further open, allowing for my body to slip through. I surveyed the room, with the door's edge digging into my side, for what could have made the noise, or who yelled. My eyes landed on the source of the noise, and they widened, even though I wasn't shocked it was him.

   Mark stood hunched over the wall, water dripping from his hair onto his back. The hills and valleys of his back contorted and rolled as his laboured breaths shook his form. His head was pressed against the wall with his damp hair messily hanging and sticking to his face. The water sparkled off his skin and made it shine like glitter under light. A towel was wrapped around his lower half, concealing what I didn't want to see. He was a handsome man, whether or not I wanted to admit it, and he was very well built. His fists were clamped so tightly that his knuckles were as white as paper. His breaths were audible from where I was standing, and they sounded ragged and almost like snarls.

   Mark was beyond pissed.

   His head snapped up at me, his eyes wild with burning rage. He curled his lips, showing his gritted teeth, and growled again. "What the fuck are you doing here, Yubin?"

   'That's one of the first times he's ever said my name.' I thought, but I pushed that realization away.

   "I was just checking if-"

   "I'm fine, just leave," He seethed. His arm fell away from the wall as he turned his body to face me, keeping his feet firmly planted. His other arm held himself up, his muscles tense and stiff. My lips fall apart from their thinly pressed line, a slight gasp escaping. I push further into the room, the door slamming onto my hip, and I see a gleam of light. It wasn't like a flashlight or flickering light, it was like it reflected off something. Something metal. I look up at Mark's sealed fist, the one that's still on the wall, and nearly yelp. There in his hand was the knife he always carried around. The black blade winked wickedly, and it put a bad taste in my mouth. The knife shook with how tightly he gripped the weapon, and Mark quickly noticed my appalled expression.

   "Mark..." I gently say, "Is everything oka-" I was again cut off, but this time it was his knife being thrown to the floor, it clattering and bouncing against the tile.

   "HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU!? GET THE FUCK OUT AND LEAVE ME ALONE!" His voice echoed off the walls, making it sound louder than it really was. It startled me and the chairs around me seemed to shake from Mark's roar. Mark huffs dramatically and buries his fingers in his hair, craning his neck back as his breaths quicken and sharpen. Before he could yell at me again, I was out the door, scurrying to my room. I hurry to close the door, flattening my back against it and sliding down until my body limply touches the floor.

   I attempt to calm my strained and hoarse breathing. I'm not sure why that caught me so off guard and shook me so much. It's not like I've haven't had this happen before, Mark blowing up like this, but something felt different. Whether it was the fact he was holding a knife, or that he was dripping wet and shirtless, something felt off. Whatever it was, I'm back to square one with Mark: frightened to step near him or be in the same room.

   "Tomorrow is going to be a nightmare." 

bruh this chapter was fun to write

next few chapters are gonna be fuckin insane so be prepared

next chapter may be long so dont be sad i havent updated this book in a while (yall are gettin spoiled)

Thanxx for reading!!