THE DEUCE TO PAY | PJM ✔️

THREE.

A few months ago.

Your office is tainted with a rich perfume smell.

The usual coffee and woods smell is now mixed with Chanel's perfume and it's not a pleasant smell. At. All.

How many sprays did she put on?

"We have reached a conclusion," You hear Mr Park's voice.

"We will put him in this hospital until he gets cured or at least gets better..." Mr Park announces his—and his wife's—decision.

"If he does get cured," His wife sarcastically emphasises a hypothetical situation.

If you could, you would kick her out of your office. Immediately. Mrs Park has been nothing but a bitch throughout this appointment. You can see the dislike she had for her son but it is not necessary for her to publicly express it. Since you can't kick her out, you ignore her as you continue detailing about his son and you jot down every information possible.

Mr Park is a big shareholder of this hospital. You've heard rumours saying he'll take over this hospital soon—Not like you care at all, but what intrigues you is that people said that he got married to his current wife because of a deal, not out of love.

Oh god, you should mind my own business, (Y/N).

Once the talk comes to its end, you clasp your hands together. "Alright, if that's your decision, I will do my best to help your son," You say with a professional voice.

"If that's all?" Mr Park and his wife take it as their cue to stand up and leave. You bow your head at them. Mr Park acknowledges your bow as he mirrors your action. His wife hastens out of your office.

It isn't a few minutes later and the couple is already gone out of the radar— leaving his mentally sick son alone. You notice him sitting on the chair next to your office's door. You approach him.

The parents didn't even tell her that their son had inhuman abilities.

And unfriendly.

And also, obsessive.

"Hey," You greet him. "Morning!"

He's aware of your presence but doesn't make an effort to reply. You wait, just in case but he just seems disinterested so you continue. "What's your name?"

What a way to strike a conversation. What doctor doesn't know their patient's name? Screw that, you just wanted him to talk to you.

He stares at your face with his dark eyes. "Jimin."

"And your age?"

"25"

"Okay, great!" You smile at him but he doesn't even spare you a glance as he keeps his gaze on the board in front of him that is pinned with all sorts of medical information. You heave a heavy sigh.

This is going to be tough.

This is your game.

To make Jimin talk to her was the first task of the game.

To make Jimin trust her was the ultimate task.

And once Jimin is cured,

It's game over.

Or so you thought.

"Let's bring you to your room, Jimin," You tell him. "Come!" You hold out your hand for him to hold but he simply stands up and stares at you with an empty gaze.

Okay... Awkward.

Retreating your hand, you pat your thighs and stand on your feet as well as you escort Jimin to his room. Heat crawls on your face out of embarrassment and maybe humiliation too. You sigh, probably humiliating the shit out of yourself is one of the many ways to get Jimin out of his shell. If no one is going to make the first move then who?

"Okay!" You clasp your hands together to get his attention. "For a starter, your room will be empty. You get to decorate it according to your preference. Once we finish decorating your room, you'll move here. For the time being, you'll stay in the ready and available room."

His father specifically asks for this privilege.

"Do you have any questions?" You turn to him. You study his face for any reactions but this guy remains with his stoned face, cold and emotionless.

"No."

"Well, alright. Let me show you your temporary room."