Peaches & Cigarettes, Mangoes & Wine ||| KTH X READER

|| SESSION 9 : COSMOS ( DANCE OF THE DEATH PT. 3 ) ||

 
COSMOS' POV:

Sacrifice after sacrifice,
The blood gushing would not stop,
Until he, the outsider, gave in.
Until the protagonist decided to end it all.

~

The call had come.
Preparations were done, weapons prepared, Details on Mister parks assumed whereabouts were given,
I myself all ready.

An unusual futon dress around my upper body, leaving the collar bones and one leg free - due to it's lower V cut. The black textile popping amongst my light brown skin.
It sure felt uncomfortable from the usual cop attire.
Reminiscing how on special occasions Several co workers would compliment this ridiculously tight dress, made my hatred grow upon the unusual futon.

Weapons by my thighs and purse hidden, I stepped our to the said location, the Tijuana grand Opera house. Through the gushing rain and uneven stone rail I managed to tip toe in, carefully. My gemmed Heels echoing with each step to the sudden grand hall. At a glimpse, it for sure fit dozens of folks, and still the space was mostly occupied by no more than air, and the scent of high class perfume.

Had Seokjin known I was stepping in here, he for sure would be disappointed.
"No sniffin around the syndicates",so his word.
Had he known the reason, then would his opinion change?
I wasn't sure.

What I was sure of though, was that the head of the syndicates, and maybe even the head of the dragon clan, mister park, who had a bounty attached to his head, were to be in here.

The first time entering such proper building wasn't how I imagined. Dim lights and stoned pillars, engraved in fabulous symbols, and people dressed highly roaming around the wide, Marbeline grey floors. Grand doors, even grander stairs, which in contrast I felt so flimsy and small to stand next to.
My reflecting image of the mirror stuck to the right side of the entry wall, stared back with a furrowed expression. Drops from my hair, soaked wet, touched the surface. About to brush through my hair with mere fingers, making sure the silver rings didn't get stuck onto some strands, another stole my eyes away from the mirror.

A big screen hanging above,signaling the next show.The Band unknown to me announced in big letters,
though the song name stuck out like a needle in the head.

NEXT SHOW : COSMOS - TANKS PLAYING AT 11:30 !!

I had to blink twice in order to comprehend,
So thickly it was displayed, and though it seemed blurry.

At second thought, there was no time to waste. The Old Opera Clock above, right next to one of the more damaged pillars, displayed just Five minutes before the show began - there really, was no time to waste over a song, nor some wet strands of hair.

Rushing through stairs thicker than the ironed doors at the security center of the ISSP cops, where Jin often ought to joke that someday he'd be able to break through them, I went upon to enter the VIP only restricted nose bleed section, Like I was told.
In front of me availed a door, covered with matt dark red curtains and jewels, jewels of all kinds, more expensive than I could imagine. The entrance screamed through and through, a place only reserved for a King.

As the airing show neared its beginning, the outside halls lights flickered and rusted, until they completely shut off. And I was dedicated on entering that door. 
Sweeping my heels onto the rag harshly, I stepped over to the young Man hoarding over thus door. A clean cut, suited in uniform and shades, a little micro chip on his ears. It was now or never.

"Is this mister Parks seat? I looked all over for it, actually I-" 
But without hesitation, I was disrupted by the security's voice. Confident he seemed,
"We've been waiting for you." His wrists held out and the wide smirk, furrowing on him.