Jimin is 20 years old, he is the son of a rich businessman who is already on his third wife. Said wife is more that 20 years younger than his father and less than 15 years older than him.
She's hot and experienced and even though Jimin can get women...
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"The pink haired male was wearing a black, lace, see-through tank top with a black leather jacket over it."
•••
Fuck it! Jimin slammed his door and punched the wall beside it. How does this kid get to me so much? "Ahh!" He screamed, sweeping a hand forcefully through his desk, throwing everything that was crammed onto it to the floor. "Why do you have to always fucking ruin everything??!!!" He screamed, taking the lamp from his bedside table and smashing it against the wall. "Stupid!" He punched the wall again. "Useless..." He was on his knees now. Unnoticed tears had started streaming down his burning cheeks. He pulled his silky hair with both hands until he felt numb... But the numbness wasn't coming. He could still feel, his heart could still hurt and his eyes wouldn't stop leaking. "Fucking weak!" He spat, while standing groggily and stumbling to his desk, pulling the key out of his pocket and opening the damned drawer with one pull. He needed to stop the pain, he needed to feel numb again, he wanted to forget. So he was going to do it, he couldn't care less about anything anymore, not Jungkook, not Jem, not anybody. They could just go fuck themselves. "All of them!" He shouted while throwing everything that was on the drawer to the floor with more force than necessary.
"FUCK!!!" He yelled when he finally emptied the drawer realising that the clear plastic bag was nowhere to be found. "IDIOT!!!!" He yelled once again, pushing the desk with one hand and making it roll across the room, once he remembered how just the day before he had spilled all that he had left. Yes, he might be tiny, but he was still strong.
He sat down on his bed, mind running. If he didn't have some stuff to calm himself down he would go crazy, he needed some form of it, if it wasn't powder he would get alcohol, yes that was it. He immediately called Wonho and in no time he had arranged a plan with his gangster friends to meet at the one and only nightclub they always went to.
He put his boots on and strutted downstairs making too much noise with his leather boots with every step he took. He was already halfway through the entrance hall when the kitchen door opened and a confused looking Jem made her appearance. Perfect fucking timing. Jimin rolled his eyes mentally.
"What's going on?" She spoke with pursed lips.
"None of your business." Jimin said with a deathly tone, not stopping his march towards the front door.
"Where are you going?!" She said with an edge on her voice.
"Fucking out!" Jimin lost it. "Since fucking when do you fucking control me when I leave and when I return??!!!" He almost yelled.
"I-I Jimin..." She trailed off, but Jimin was already gone. What the hell? She actually thought things were finally going north. What could have gone wrong?
Jem brushed her hands on her apron, having gone out of the kitchen so fast at the sound of Jimin's boots that she hadn't been able to wash her hands, and made her way upstairs. She needed to know what had happened because she wasn't having a good feeling about this whole situation.
