"Push-ups are so much easier when you're under me."
In a debased society where impoverished young girls are preyed upon by the elites of the city, Tsuki Rai knew she was safe under the same roof as the world-famous boxer, Jeon Jungkook, as his maid...
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I am forced to put my hands behind my back and have them wound together tightly with a clothesline. The uproar in my chest is tumultuous as someone from behind ducks my head under the hood of the large car and pushes me in. A sudden urge to suss out my captors one last time, to see what they are up to, overwhelms me as my own personal angel of doom shrouds my spirits.
"W-Why?"
"What was that?" Namjoon cocks a brow at me.
The engine revs to life, much in contrast to the lifelessness in my own limbs as I stare blankly at the hand brake, unable to move a fibre of my being. Taehyung is dead. My heartbeat is a slow march against time and it feels as though an eye and a leg have been amputated from me as the vehicle begins to move.
"Why d-did he have to die?" my voice is hoarse with emotion. I am so close to bursting into a puddle of tears again and my teeth catch my trembling lower lip in between them so I don't whimper out loud. "We-we were go-going to repay you within three weeks a-and Taehyung was already looking for places outside town to move into. Why did my boyfriend have to die?"
My body is flanked between those of Hoseok's and another guy with the same small frame. I could make a fuss and try to reach the door handle if I had had enough courage to run into the endless night beyond the veils. A short chuckle perforates the air and my eyes find those of its possessor through the little mirror he is holding up.
"Because, 고기 돈 [meat money], this world is a terrible, terrible place to grace your pretty face with," another man cuts me short. I don't see his pale face under the floodlights, but his delicate voice is scarily soothing to listen to, "and we had to teach you that you cannot run around dilly-dallying with other people's hard-earned money because your parents didn't stick around to do the filthy job."
I grow silent. The atmosphere in the car shifts from a mixture of grief and confusion to sheer anger as he goes back to fixing his hair.
"Monsters." my voice betrays me.
The shortest of them all cackles at my insult. "that's the three-hundred-thousandth time we are being nicknamed that, love. Be creative."
I avert my attention from his blonde strands of hair and look outside the window. The glass surfaces are foggy due to the severely low temperatures blasting through the air conditioning and my fingers are numb - both because of the coldness in the air and because of the plethora of emotions surging within me as I try to endure the bumpy ride. I cannot bring myself to let the static noise of gravel being crunched over by the tires lulls me into a deep slumber.
I have no control over time.
Taehyung is dead.
"You." was the first word he had uttered addressing me. His accent was a dead giveaway to his descent - he definitely wasn't Japanese. "name?"
Taken aback by his boldness, I could only muster a timid, "T-Tsuki."
