Broken Promise | Monsta X Jooheon

4//The Slaughterhouse

They called it The Slaughterhouse, an overdramatic name created by teens and kids of the neighborhood, that just seemed to stick.

As you can imagine from the name, it had a bad rep. A lot of people said drug deals, streetfights, and street-racing went down there.

They were right, but there was more to it than that. There were also dance competitions and rap battles and it didn't necessarily have to be a bad place unless you got involved with the wrong crowd.

Lucky for me, I am the wrong crowd.

The Slaughterhouse was where I'd spent a majority of my time since I was fourteen.

I'd participated in the street fights, street races, and dance competitions nearly every time they were held and after a year, I won the majority of the time.

Because I was a rich kid and too "stuck-up" to talk anyone and was always hanging around dudes, a rumor started going around that I was either a big-shot drug dealer's prostitute, daughter, or a drug dealer myself. Or all of the above.

The rumor actually did some good as no one even thought about messing with me or even talking to me unless I was seducing them which was a piece of cake in itself.

I'd come here two weeks ago out of sheer boredom. I rarely ever came to the rap battles anymore. They were still pretty exciting, but nobody seemed to really own the stage the way Jiho had. Seeing him rap, for me, at least, was an experience. Not to say that others weren't good, they just weren't my cup of tea.

And then Jooheon took the stage.

I had no clue who his opponent was and I doubt anyone else did either. Jooheon was spitting fire from the moment he opened his mouth till the moment he closed it, syllables perfectly matching the beat, voice harsh, words unfiltered, as he rode the rhythm like he was born to do it. It was no question that he'd won though I'm pretty sure the over-confident kid going against him, ego now stomped into the dirt, had left shedding a few tears.

I'd wanted him instantly.

As far as Jooheon was concerned, this was the first time since the night we met that I was coming back to his show.

What he didn't know was that I hadn't missed a single of his four battles since.

As a dancer, I obviously love music. Something about Jooheon's voice, his flow, his passion, the way he put his words together: it was addictive. I couldn't get enough. Sure, he'd gotten laid every time afterward but the fact that I found it the sexiest thing on the planet was just a bonus.

The biggest reason I came was just to listen to his music.

The Slaughterhouse itself was a one-level parking garage belonging to an abandoned factory across the street on the wrong side of the tracks.

The street-fights had been the original purpose for it, hence such a brutal name as The Slaughterhouse which was why someone had set up a boxing ring.

Then eventually it just evolved and a DJ set up shop for the rap battles and everything else started happening and here we are now.

The depths of The Slaughterhouse was where all the shady dealings took place, but I didn't really go over there except to the edge sometimes for the weed.

My eyes darted around the Slaughterhouse, searching for the familiar head of bright white hair and bright skin.

Almost everyone wore black, a precaution in case the police came, so it was a bit of a struggle to find him, but I eventually did spot him.

He was with those seven people from earlier, one of the tall, lanky boys in the group having his arm thrown around the pretty thin girl from before.