The Unders (BTS fanfic)

Chapter 1: Namjoon

It was a queer, sultry late summer, the summer they electrocuted the Jungs, and I didn't know what the hell I was doing here, watching my father out of the black barred window, hands dug deep into my pockets.

It was his resignation speech, although all who were not stupid knew that he would still be the one pulling the strings of the puppet, just from behind the scenes onwards. I had been instructed to join him, but I could not face it - them all. To be stuck in a society one hates is one thing, having leaders shifted is no better. It only proves that change is a luxury they cannot afford.

Kim Jacheol.

The most hated, yet loved, man in existence.

The line blurred and phased between the two emotions, until it was just accepted that they had impaired vision. The air was suffocating, even within the Higher residence, so god knows what it would have been like outside.

The applause was short lived, and pathetic, with little to no signs of enthusiasm. I swivelled around, leaning my back against the window, awaiting his arrival.

His entrance was melodramatic and fake, the culmination of his very nature. I scoffed as his hands flung in the air. I said nothing as he reached for his scotch. "Namjoon," He began. The same disappointed tone. "I thought we had an agreement that you were to join me. The audience and me both dearly missed your attendance,"

"The audience and I, father," I corrected him, also reaching for a glass of scotch. This conversation had to be somewhat tolerable.

"The point, Namjoon, is that those are no longer my people, they are now yours. You need to show them that,"

"They are not my people, no more than they are yours,"

"Don't be difficult with me now, boy," His face was contorting into a gritty expression, though still managing to keep the lax smile spread across his rough facial features. I was waiting for it; his outburst. I knew for a fact that one was due, and I certainly knew what it was going to be about. It was all over the headlines at sunrise this morning.

I had been sending letters to Heera for the past seven years, and she had been responding back. Up until a few months ago. We loved each other still. I kept writing, and waited patiently, but patience never lasts too long.

"I've intercepted your letters to that girl," His head twitched violently to one side. If I had not known that he was angry, I would have been slightly concerned that he was having a stroke.

"Woman, and her name is Heera," I replied nonchalantly. I knew revealing my emotions to Jacheol would be as good as suicide. Even though I cared so much, I had to bury it all.

"I'm aware of that by now," His grotesque growls continued. "You have no idea how serious of a crime you have committed,"

"It is no crime," I stated forcefully.

"You have an illegitimate son, and you are supposed to lead? It's a disgrace,"

I gulped and sipped on the scotch. "Just because Heera is not a Higher, does not mean our son is illegitimate. He is your grandson, you do realise that,"

Jacheol slammed his glass on his desk and rose to my face. "Seven years is far too long ago. You must have been underage, and her? I dread to think. For this crime, you are in the process of being punished accordingly," He spewed his words through anger, tiny pieces of spittle flying around the surroundings.

"How do you mean?" I frowned. Nothing had been done so far to hurt me, but that made me all the more suspicious.

"We are looking for your bastard child," He spat at me victoriously.

I frowned and leaned back. I turned away quickly to avoid eye contact. "What are you going to do to my Heesung?" I breathed. "What about Heera?" I demanded.

Then the one thing that made me hate my father the most, happened; he laughed. He composed himself under my hateful gaze. "She's fine for the most part, back living in Under. Although we are planning to try out our latest batch of Vitarum on her,"

I cursed inside my head. Vitarum. The cruellest, most psychologically damaging drug created. Used to extract pieces of information and to help the person using it always get what they want. It was continuously in development, Jacheol had no regards for safety testing it, and it always left the person shaky afterwards.

I balled up my fists in fury. "I don't know how you can still manufacture that weapon, let alone inject it into innocent people. Please, don't,"

"Innocent? She was half of your crime. But, Namjoon, let's forget about this speed bump, hmm? You have to remember who you are now, you can't just knock up an Under! She is an Under and you are a Higher. That so-called son of yours will be gone soon as well, we will find him soon enough,"

I staggered back, my head swirling. I put my glass down on the table clumsily, the alcohol spilling out, before gripping onto the side of the armchair so that I wouldn't drop to the floor. I raised my hand to my head and ran my fingers through my hair. At least they hadn't found Heesung yet. But Heera? I felt sick.

"Oh, and did I forget to mention? Your half-brother is coming back to Higher to keep an eye on you. If you screw up, he'll be the one replacing you,"