Being the rewriter and all, I didn't expect to get my ass put in jail.

Yep, that's right. It was just me and Yoongi behind those cell bars, staring into the blank wall ahead of us. Well, I mean, I was staring at the wall and Yoongi was glaring holes into my face. His attention was welcome, but I couldn't help but think he could tone down the anger just a bit. 

After all, at the end of the day, we were just stuck in some stupid book.

"This is just great, Briar." Yoongi sighed from beside me, his eyes finally taking a break from looking at my face. I watched as his lips curled down into a disappointed frown but I couldn't help but clap back.

"I know right? I've always wondered what jail looked like."

"I was being sarcastic."

At the end of the day, Yoongi was just a fictional character.

So if I slapped him across the head, would it really matter?

No, it was probably better not to do that. Besides, his face was too perfect. I glanced through my peripheral vision at his face. He had gorgeous, porcelain like skin – so clear and shiny it could have been painted on a china plate. His almond shaped eyes -though full of rage – were gently encased by long, dark lashes that brushed upon his cheeks every time he blinked. His nose was cute and curved, unlike my large, straight one.

He looked prettier than I did.

It was unfair.

Well, except his hair. It still looked like it was just about to be put unto a toothbrush.

"Have you ever thought about changing your hair color?" I asked, out of the blue.

Yoongi turned to me with a scowl, "No." He whipped his head back around to the other side of the cell.

"Not even to like, black or rainbow-"

"No."

"I'm just saying it because you would look good with black hair."

"Don't care." Yoongi curtly responded, still not looking in my direction. I rolled my eyes at him and turned towards the cell bars again. A cop walked past, whistling as he went and my eyes caught unto the handcuffs latched unto his belt.

My brain couldn't help but imagine Yoongi with those in his hands. If only I could rewrite this book into that type of book.

But alas, I was stuck with a furious Yoongi in my cell – who didn't even need to be there anyway, since, well, he wasn't in a physical form – and it was pretty boring.

"So are you going to tell me how I even got here, in the first place? Like, why am I here?" I asked Yoongi, trying to find something to converse about. Maybe the boringness of the jail would allow him to tell me why the hell I was in this fanfiction in the first place.

Yoongi sent me a confused frown, "How you're in jail?"

"Yeah, how I'm in jail, because I have no idea how that happened!" I clapped back, sarcastically, before answering with a frown, "no, how I got into the fanfiction."

Yoongi's once, raged filled eyes were now covered in confusion and hesitancy, "Why? Do you want to go home or something?"

"I'm just curious." I replied.

It looked as if Yoongi almost wanted to tell me – the way his eyes hesitantly raked over my face and his glittering teeth bit into his lower lip. His mouth opened to speak, but quickly shut again. I couldn't understand why it was all a big secret.

In the end, I'd eventually have to go home. While Yoongi and all the other guys were characters, I was an actual human being. I didn't belong in a story. I belonged in real life.

"Since you're going to be a bitch and not tell me what's going on with the story, I'm going to tell you something."

Yoongi's eyes flickered towards me as the dark arches above them drifted upwards.

Sighing and gripping my fingers in with each other in an act of nervousness, I began to speak. "When I was a kid, I was always the odd one out. My sisters had been the beautiful, tanned Spanish girls and I was the 'gordita' – the chubby, weird kid." I added, "They used to say I looked like those little oompa loompas from that chocolate factory movie."

Yoongi looked weirded out, but he didn't speak.

I continued, "I had so many crushes on so many boys, but I just couldn't seem to snag any of them. If I did confess to them, they just told me I was ugly and fat; my friends told me I was clingy and obnoxiously loud and annoying, not to mention what life was like back at home with my mother always losing her shit at me," I sighed, "I did what anyone would. I tried to escape reality."

"I dreamt. Imagined. Read fanfics of BTS members to pass the grueling days, hoping that I too would be loved like Y/N someday."

"And you're telling me this, because?"

I frowned, giving Yoongi a piercing glare underneath the guise of my eyelids, "Because we're in a jail cell together with nothing else to do."

He hmmed in response, not seeming to be very interested.

"Why don't you tell me about your past here?" I asked, "If you have one, that is."

Yoongi glared at me. "I do."

I put my hands up in fake surrender, "Chill, buddy, you're a fake BTS member. I mean, you're in a book and all-"

Yoongi turned back to the wall, away from me with a huff. "I'm not telling you now."

"Okay, Okay, I'm sorry." I groaned out, and he turned back to me, looking particularly annoyed.

"Not telling."

"Oh come on!" I exasperated, reaching unto the back of his suit and pulling mercilessly, "You've gotta tell me something! I told you something!"

He wouldn't budge.

"Not even for a kiss?" I asked.

"Ew, no." Yoongi spat back, but I could see a hint of red coating the back of his neck.

"A cuddle?"

"No."

"I'll listen to anything you say for a whole....ten minutes." Yoongi's ears seemed to perk up at that.

"An hour."

"Forty-five minutes."

Finally, Yoongi took the deal and turned around. He seemed nervous, and I watched as his brown eyes wavered upon looking into mine. 

Is he planning to come up with some deep memory? I thought to myself. I was just wanting some story about how he peed in the middle of class in high school or something.

His lips parted, words finally starting to pour out of them. I couldn't believe what I heard.

"I am Big Pap's son."

A/N: DUN DUN DUN

I COULD SWEAR ON NAMJOONS TIDDIES YALL DID NOT SEE THST COMING- 

Anyway, lemme know ur theories about Yoongs- 

Baii