Supremacy || Taekook

1

"M' begging you... let me go"

I scowled at the tied man.

"I'm not the one calling the shots dude. You'll have to see that with my boss."

"He's going to kill me... he's going to kill me... I stole his money, I'll confess everything! He'll kill me. Fuck... NO," he sobbed.

I smiled slightly.

"Yeah, he'll probably kill you"

He stared at me, eyes wide. I eventually left the room, the music starting to buzz in my ears as I walked out the door. I locked it and headed for the main room.

We were in a nightclub of sorts. Bodies gave in to the music every night on the dance floor. I pulled up my hood and continued towards the main room, ignoring the colored lights that could have caused me an epileptic attack if I hadn't been used seeing them every night for a year.

"Come dance with me, big boy" a young woman whispered gently in my ear.

I looked at her for a moment: large breasts, soft lips, beautiful flowing hair. Slowly, she began to move her body before me, occasionally brushing her ass against my crotch. I smiled and followed her lead. I danced with her for a good fifteen minutes before wishing her a good night, wanting to grab a drink and rest. She kissed my cheek and let me go - she knew exactly who I was.

Everyone knew.

I had been working in this nightclub for nine months now. I had just turned 18, a few weeks ago. I'd started my freshman year at college - a science major. I don't like mathematics; I'm surprisingly good at it though. But I had good grades, that's all that mattered.

I'll get straight to the point: my mother is poor. So poor that, sometimes, I would eat once a day during my teens. No matter how hard I'd look for a part time job, over and over again, it never worked out. We were right in the heart of Seoul; I wasn't the only one looking for a job. Big companies like small minimarkets had no use for a student who was only free on the weekends.

And that's when he appeared.

One night, I had come to this bar with the intention of drinking, again and again, until I'd forget about everything. Forget my mother's suffering that leads to mine. A little too drunk, I'd crossed a forbidden door, thinking it would lead to the washroom. I hadn't read the sign "Staff Only". I was dumb and drunk, but let me explain why I don't regret it.

After passing through this grey door, a long corridor had materialized in front of me. I had walked along the corridor, looking desperately for a fucking toilet. That night, in this corridor, I had felt like thousands of doors were dancing before my eyes. I had to find one. Only one. One which, I'd hoped, would lead me to the toilets.

I had crossed the wrong one.

I'd found myself in an office and behind the desk, stood a blond man. Namjoon. He was watching a guy being beaten up by another one. Silently observing the scene, unfazed.

The victim was an 'enemy' of the boss and the one beating him was Yoongi, who is now one of my colleagues.

They all froze, before lunging at me.

Needless to say, I got tied up, beaten up and yelled at. Eventually, Namjoon had called in another person.

Someone who's much, much, more important than him or Yoongi.

An hour later - during which I was left tied to that damn chair - a man had entered the room. Brown hair and dark black eyes. Pale skin, a straight and thin nose, soft pink lips. That night he was wearing black jeans, branded sneakers, and a hoodie. The hood was pulled up over his hazelnut hair. He stuffed his hands full of rings in his pockets.