Taken | myg + pjm

05

"No."

Hoseok whines, following Yoongi as he searched the living room for his keys and wallet. "Oh c'mon. I could be your sidekick - no, back-up! You're so small, you can't hold your own in a fight."

Yoongi makes a noise in the back of his throat and smirks. "This is Namjoon we're talking about. He can barely hold a knife. He's more of a danger to himself than to others. I'd be more afraid of Jin, to be frank."

He spots his wallet and keys on the table by the door (go figure) and turns on his heels in front of the door. He gives what he hopes is a reassuring look. "I will be fine."

Hoseok has his arms crossed over his chest. "I know you'll be fine. I just wanna see this shit go down."

"Some friend you are," Yoongi mumbles, not fighting when he feels Hoseok right behind him as they leave their apartment.

The house of Kim Seokjin and Kim Namjoon is that of quaint and small (a lot different from the lavish man Namjoon makes the former out to be) and one Yoongi only knows of from the outside (he's never really had any desire to venture inside).

Sitting on the curb is a simple white van, and Yoongi deduces that is how Jimin was brought here (the only reason his stomach churns a bit is because he is going to have to deal with Jimin being mad at him, obviously).

"He's bustin' your balls over sixty-five dollars when he lives in a house ?" Hoseok ponders aloud.

Before Yoongi could answer, the door opens, a young man with bright eyes and dark, side-swept bangs to add to his youthful features staring them down intently.

"Min Yoongi?" His voice his deep, though not as deep as the man from the phone call.

Yoongi nods. "Yes...whoever you are. We're here to see Namjoon and get this shit over with."

The boy glances at both men before turning. "Follow me."

The interior screams "Minimalist!" with the white walls and monochromatic furniture and accent pieces.

For some reason, Yoongi feels he can't give credit of this sleek design to Namjoon, whom Yoongi knows to be a bit cluttered both physically and mentally. But since they're not here for a grand tour, they make their ways swiftly through the living room and to the kitchen and down a flight of stairs.

"Is this a wine cellar ?" Hoseok can't help but blurt out, finally making it to the bottom and eyeing the racks of wine lining the brick walls.

His eyes finally meet the pathetic display of a torture chamber with a modern light fixture illuminating above a very disgruntled looking Park Jimin and a tall, lanky looking boy and the one known as Namjoon.

"You have a fucking wine cellar." Hoseok states in the direction of Namjoon.

"Who's this?" Namjoon questions.

Yoongi, who waves half-heartedly at his friend with a shrug.

"He wanted to come watch me hand you some money."

"Ah, yes," Namjoon breathes. "The seventy dollars you own me."

Yoongi looks up from where he followed his hand to retrieve his wallet.

"Seventy? But on the phone you said it was sixty-five."

"Right, yeah," Namjoon says with a hiss, feigning embarrassment. "I was actually off by five days. You were twenty days late. I didn't count the days properly. Must've forgot weekends."

They both remained silent, challenging each other with their eyes.

"You're full of shit, you know that?" Yoongi finally speaks, eyes cut and daring.

Namjoon shrugs. "No money, no Jimin. That is the mantra." He turns back to the lanky one, nodding at Jimin. "Slap him."

The one Yoongi assumes is "Tae" looks up, startled at being called on. "For what?"

"To show this guy we mean business. Slap him."

Tae looks down to meet Jimin's eyes almost sharing a moment (Yoongi totally doesn't notice) before looking back up at Namjoon. "But he hasn't done anything wrong."

The younger one heaves out a sigh and rolls his eyes. "You're really not understanding this 'hostage' thing, are you?" And with no further preempt, his hand smacks across Jimin's cheek, the force making his head fall to the side.

"Fucking ouch !" Jimin growls, ignoring the red mark on his cheek and glaring at the younger boy.

Yoongi pipes up now. "Was that really fucking necessary? I'm short five bucks, but I have the majority, so can you just let him go?"

Namjoon smiles. "What's the mantra, again?"

There's a collective answer, "No money, no Jimin," and Yoongi has to turn around when he realizes Hoseok is saying it as well.

"Seok-ah, do you have five dollars I can borrow?"

Hoseok smirks. "Uh, have you not learned your lesson about borrowing money, yet? C'mon man."

"This is fucking ridiculous," Jimin voices. "I have five dollars, and Yoongi, you don't have to pay me back. I just wanna go home ."

Hoseok whispers not-so-silently, "I thought you guys were supposed to be going to the movies later."

Slowly, Yoongi glides his palm over his face. This can't be real. This has to be a sick, twisted dream. This really cannot be happening.

There is the sound of a door closing upstairs, followed by a light.

"Namjoon?" and suddenly the room goes completely still.

"Oh, shit," Namjoon whispers before making his way up the stairs.

Tae laughs, looking at where Namjoon's figure proceeded...

"Mom's home."
___

bts won top social artist at the bbmas and i feel like such a proud mother. they're so famous internationally too and fdmkdkdifjfjcjjckxkdkd. sorry. i'm just really fucking happy.

please comment or something. i'm trying to find some friends on wattpad.