Seven Wings of the Damned (BTS)

Forty Eight- All Done For You

| Friday, August 20 2010 | Five days after Yoongi's arrival

(Jimin's POV)

The guys laughed as we walked along the streets now. The slums always had a strange scent and I smelled it less now that I had some alcohol in my system, but it was still a strong and wretched scent.

"Hey, Jimin, you should've seen this guy's face when Minho and I confronted him."

"Well, he better have been trembling at the knees and wetting himself, otherwise, I'm unimpressed," I smirked at him.

He laughed. "Even better."

"Yo. Who's up for grabbing some beer?"

"Ugh, I'm too tired to steal from another store tonight," Sato groaned.

"Who says we need to steal it?" Johnny nudged me. "Jimin can work his magic with that little lady on the corner drugstore and get us free shit."

They all looked to me now. "Yea, yea. Fine. But, you all are paying up to me later."

"Sick!" they shouted and jumped in the air excitedly. We turned down an alley to cut across the block now to make our way to the drugstore. I looked up to the sky tiredly and sighed as my mood only dimmed more. Alcohol made me groggy and cranky. But, for these guys, I'd drink until I passed out.

"Hey, guys," Johnny got our attention. "Look at this." He nodded his head in a forward direction.

On the ground lie a man passed out face-down. His clothes were dirty rags and he looked like he'd been beaten. Must've been just another stumbling drunk.

Johnny leaned down and began to pick on him. "Hey," he tussled the guy's hair. "What happened? You get a little beat up, buddy?"

Dae-Suk and I leaned back against the brick wall of a building and watched as the others messed with the drunk.

"Yah. Let me get a puff of that," I reached out for Dae-Suk's cigarette.

He nodded and pulled it from his mouth and handed it to me. I sucked in the black smoke as I watched the others.

"We're talking to you, asshole," Sato nudged him with his foot.

"Get up off the ground, you lazy shit."

The man crumpled on the ground groaned in pain as they kicked him. Something about his groan triggered a memory in my brain. But, it disappeared too quickly for me to be able to grasp some of it.

"What happened, asshole? You get a little beaten?"

The man on the ground mumbled something inaudible to us.

Johnny looked up from where he crouched beside the limp figure. Confusion struck his face and he mouthed the word "what" to the rest of us. I shrugged, also misunderstanding the man's grumbles.

"Get up, you fucker," Johnny kicked him hard this time.

The limp body rolled over to reveal the beaten and bloody form of the man. He wasn't drunk and slightly beaten. He was mercilessly attacked and left here to die. I gazed at his ankle which was twisted and broken. His shoes were missing as were his socks. His feet looked stomped on. His pants were undone and blood stained his pants in many spots. Had he tried to rape someone?