My You | Jungkook FanFic

Seven.

One. Two. Three.

One. Two. Three

Wren was counting her punches, each swift hit to the punching bag releasing pent up emotions she'd been withholding.

It was therapeutic—the beat of her knuckles across the coarse fabric of the bag.

She was in the zone. Losing herself in the movement of her body when she heard her mother call her over the intercom.

Her house was so big that an intercom system had to be installed. She guessed her parents also got tired of yelling at her from the other end of the house.

"Wren your father would like to speak with you in his office," her mother's voice crackled over the speaker, jolting Wren from her meditation.

Her fists stilled on the punching bag. And she quickly looked around as if caught red handed stealing something from a convenience store. This was her secret punching bag. She kept it hidden in the back of her closet behind all the sparkly dresses she'd been forced to wear for galas and parties.

Quickly, Wren shoved the punching bag back into its hiding place and shut the closet doors. She unwrapped her taped hands hastily, throwing the remains of white sports tape into the trash bin before hurrying out the door and down the hallway.

She didn't know what her father wanted, maybe he was finally going to set her free from being grounded. She couldn't help but hope as her feed padded down the plush carpet towards her father's study.

Wren pushed open the heavy wood doors leading into her father's office and found him sitting at his desk. A row of bookcases towered behind him, stacked with books and fancy awards on the shelving.

She was sweating still, and she quickly wiped the perspiration on her brow as she closed the door behind her.

"You asked for me?"

Her father had both his hands pressed together, his elbows on the desk with his head bent slightly forward. It was at this moment that Wren could see he was most definitely holding in his anger.

"Please have a seat," he gestured stiffly to one of the plush arm chairs across from him, and Wren nervously took a seat, sitting on her hands so they wouldn't shake.

"What's wrong? I can tell already that you're mad."

Her father looked up at her, his eyes meeting hers where she could now see the fire behind them. He let out an aggravated sigh. "I received a call earlier today."

"From who?" Wren could only hope it wasn't the police. Had someone found out about the underground fight she'd participated in a few weeks ago? She told herself to calm down, she always wore a mask when she did underground fights, no one would know it was her.

"Jeon Jungkook's manager."

"Jeon Jung—" Wren trailed off, realization dawning. Jungkook. BTS. The boy she'd pinned to the ground at the party.

It had been a whole week since the meeting at HYBE labels. Wren had wrongly assumed that she was in the clear. The anxiety she'd felt had faded over the past few days when nothing had been mentioned and she had hoped it would never have to cross her mind again.

But here she was. Sitting before her father. Barely breathing.

"Why did his manger call you?" she asked, so quietly it was almost a whisper.

"He wanted to let me know that Jungkook was impressed with your knowledge on boxing. He said Jungkook would love to pick your brain on the subject and wondered if he could schedule a formal meeting with you."

"He what?" Wren choked out the words, struggling to understand what her father had just told her. Jungkook, boxing, meeting, her?

The anger on her father's face only intensified.

"Imagine my shock when I found out that one of the most beloved idols in Korea now knows about my daughter's most unladylike hobby."

Wren winced, already knowing that she was probably never seeing her car again. She might not even be allowed outside. She was going to be a prisoner for life. She could picture herself, dying alone in her room amongst the perpetual mountains of silk and lace dresses her mother bought for her.

"Father I'm so—"

"I had no choice but to pretend that I of course knew about this wretched hobby of yours. And that I was well aware of your boxing actives, because how could I admit that my daughter has participated in illegal underground fights in her free time?"

Wren waited, her stomach shrinking with anxiety and making her feel sick.

"You can take my car away forever, if that will make you less angry—"

"Oh, I'm not taking your car away, Wren," her father said, his cheeks crimson red with anger now. He looked more angry than she'd ever seen him.  And Wren had seen him angry more than a hundred times before.

"You're going to teach him."

"What?" Wren asked, perplexed.

"You're going to give this idol boxing lessons."

"Excuse me? Why would I do that?" Wren's mouth fell open, unsure if she heard her father correctly.

"This way, it will be our choice that your little hobby gets revealed to the public.  It won't tarnish our family so extensively if one of the most beloved k-pop idols in Korea is attached to your sins. And this extra curricular activity of yours won't look so horrific in the eyes of the public when it comes to light, and let me assure you, it was always bound to be revealed.  Count yourself lucky that this young man has found your boxing not completely abhorrent, but rather he is in awe of you. So you will teach him twice a week, your first session begins on Monday."

"Teach him? When do I have time to teach him to box?"

"You'll have plenty of time. You'll change around your tutoring schedule and maybe this will keep you off the streets. At least this way you'll be boxing in in a controlled environment and not illegally."

"Father I can't—"

"You can, and you will!" he yelled, slamming his hands down on the top of his desk causing Wren to jump. "You will not make me look like a fool."

"Yes, father," Wren relented, feeling tears sting the corners of her eyes unwillingly. She rarely cried, but usually when she was really angry, it spurred the waterworks.

"I told his manager that instead of just a meeting, you'd be willing to teach Jungkook twice a week. I hope to teach you a lesson. It's time you stop thinking about only yourself. Maybe a job will help you look outside of yourself."

She didn't want to teach Jungkook how to box. Boxing was for her. It was her secret identity. It kept her sane, it helped her escape her reality, and she didn't want someone else being apart of that.

And not only that, but she didn't want to admit to her father that what she was doing was as horrific as he claimed. She didn't want to teach Jungkook just to "save" her families reputation. She wished they could accept her for who she was, boxing and all. She hated that he was doing this to help himself and his reputation as prime minster. He was retaliating against her simply because he didn't agree with what she loved.

So as far as Wren could see it, Jungkook was her punishment.

And for the first time in what felt like a long time, Wren didn't have anyway to retaliate.

She'd lost this fight to her father.

TKO.

A/N: Things are about to get even more dramatic! Stay tuned for boxing lessons with Jungkook! Can't wait to write these next few parts for you all.

~Sasha