Spine Breaker

Chapter One

Title: Spine Breaker [Chapter One]

Word Count: 1,957

* I was given the prompt: YoonMin, innocent Jimin and bad boy Yoongi... This is what my mind ran away with. More notes at the end of the chapter!

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Jimin rounded the corner of the dirty, trash covered city street, barely paying attention to his surroundings. The neon lights of the strip clubs and the smell of alcohol on the clothes of the people he passed by were too much for him at the moment. How had he even ended up on this side of town anyway?

'Oh, right...'  The newly-dyed blonde rolled his eyes to himself as he remembered. 'I fell for that modeling agency's ad... How was I supposed to know that they weren't actually a modeling agency?! I didn't know that all they would be after was my...'

            He felt the familiar prick in the corner of his eyes and the burning in the bridge of his nose as salty tears began to threaten their way down his face. Before he could get too into the memory of what had occurred only a few hours ago, Jimin stopped walking to remind himself how to breathe. Closing his eyes, he took in a deep breath and counted to ten slowly before letting it out. That was what his therapist had taught him to do to handle his anxiety before he had moved out to the big city... He was supposed to do it three times in order for it to truly take effect and help calm him down. However, in the middle of the third breath, Jimin heard a low voice break his concentration.

            "Hey kid, got a cig I could bum off 'ya?" The man spoke in a strange dialect; low and gruff and almost whispered as if his question was a secret that Jimin has asked him to spill. Jumping slightly, Jimin took in a sharp breath before turning quickly to face the man. He seemed to carry no ill intentions with his body language and he was rather handsome. Hair as dark raven's wings, skin pale and glowing even under the dim street lights and a small, amused smirk that lit up his dark eyes as he stole a quick glance up and down Jimin's frame.

"I don't have any money to give you in return but..."

            The man moved closer until Jimin could feel his hot breath fanning his neck as he leaned in to whisper,

"I can pay you back with other things, if you're good for it." Jimin gulped, briefly wondering why the bass of the man's voice made his stomach flip. Was it in fear?

            "What, um..." He began, his voice scratchy from having just been on the verge of a breakdown.

"What kinds of other things?"

            Jimin was only nineteen. Having just moved to the big city at the start of the year to pursue his dream of becoming an idol, he had thought everything would just fall in to place. That's what it showed in the movies, right? But out of the one-hundred and fifty auditions he had completed in the last three months, only one had offered him a callback. And it was to bring coffee to the 'real' models. He was too naïve for the life that had been presented to him. He lived in an extremely cheap apartment, trying to make rent by working at a shitty job he hated just to make his dreams come true in a city that apparently liked to laugh at him... Yet he couldn't give up.

            He wouldn't give up. He was far too stubborn for that. Everyone in his hillbilly small town had told him he wouldn't make it, so he had to prove them wrong. Even if he died trying. He briefly wondered if this would be the night he actually did die trying...

            "You know," the man chuckled lightly, bringing Jimin out of his thoughts. No, he didn't know. 

"Fun things, man..." Jimin's eyes darkened and he squared his shoulders.