The Plan
Ever since then, your father had been training you, preparing you to take his place.
Six years later, you were now eighteen and knew more than most eighteen year olds ever would.
You never missed a meeting. You were there for the devising of every single plan. You memorized every person outside of the family your father trusted. You knew who his contacts were and who wanted him dead.
You wished you didn't, though. You wanted nothing more than to go back to when you were young, aware of the darkness but not knowing what lies in it.
When your training first started, you were angered and disgusted at everything you were witnessing. There had even been times when you suggested something different and less violent, but no one ever listens to the inexperienced twelve year old with a heart too sympathetic for the life she had been born into.
You were numb to it now, though. You had seen and heard so much, it almost didn't sting anymore. Almost. But still, the only plans you participated in planning were the ones that didn't involve that much crime.
Maybe you kept a small part of your innocence alive for a reason. Maybe you hoped that someday, you would be able to leave and didn't want to be completely screwed up.
It was hard, though. Keeping your small beam of light protected. Your father was slowly urging you to get more involved and you knew you couldn't do nothing for much longer.
Recently, he had been telling you that he had something big planned and that you were exactly the person he needed to carry it out.
You would've placed money on the idea that it probably had something to do with a certain gang that had been causing us a bit of trouble lately.
You didn't know too much about the gang, because nobody else did. They were new and gaining power very quickly. They hadn't reached out to any other family to talk about deals or friendships, which means that was obviously what they didn't want. They had reached out to a few of your dad's contacts and friends to try and make deals with them. Big mistake.
Everyone was worried that they were going to try and take over. Your family was the most powerful, but this was a new threat. Maybe a even a formidable one. Everything that had been going wrong for your family seemed to be going right for them, so your dad came up with a plan. One that, unfortunately, involved you.
"Y/N, it's time for you to finally help us out."
He explained his plan in great detail. You were to move out of your house at once and live in a small apartment your father had rented for you. This new gang, or family, whatever they called themselves, had acquired ownership of several small businesses. After a month, you were to apply for a job at their restaurant/bar. You would say that you were twenty-one so they might let you work as a bartender. Bartenders stay later and learn more things. Plus, according to your father, they would be in need of a bartender soon.
The look in his eyes told you you didn't want to know what that meant.
If they believed you were twenty-one, that showed they were sloppy and didn't do their homework very well. If they found out you were lying, you were to say that you were just worried they wouldn't be as inclined to employ an eighteen year old as they would be a twenty-one year old. That would let them know that you have an impulse to lie, something that would be important for the next part of your plan.
You were going to infiltrate their gang.
You almost laughed when you dad told you that. What was this, some cheesy action movie? He was kidding, right? Wrong. He was completely serious. You were going to infiltrate their family and share whatever you learned. Yes, it would have been much simpler just to have a meeting with them and propose an alliance, but they didn't offer first. And if there wasn't an offer to accept or counter, your father wouldn't make one.
Your father handed you an envelope.
"Inside here, there's a thousand dollars cash. Your first three months rent have already been paid for you. This is for food, clothes, and rent. You won't be getting anymore money from me. The money you make from the job is money you'll use to pay for your necessities." He told you.
"And what if I don't get the job?" You asked.
"You will. They'll be short-handed by the end of the month. A perfect time for you to apply."
"How long is all of this supposed to take?"
"About a year." He said plainly. Your stomach dropped as your brain processed what he said. Your head started to spin. Did he not know who you were? You left the house maybe once a month, and now he wanted to force you to move out and live completely by yourself?
"Will I still be able to contact you?" You stuttered out somehow.
"No, not me directly. Write down what you learn. We'll send someone to you once a month to have coffee and collect what you've written."
"What if something goes wrong? What if I need to talk to you right away? What if I'm found out?"
"Well, you will have a phone." He said, pulling a small box out of his desk. "It's completely new. There is absolutely nothing on it. Don't turn it on until you get to your apartment." He tore off a scrap from piece of paper and wrote something on it. He folded it up and slid it over to you. "This is the number you call to get the pay phone, for emergencies only."By the pay phone, he of course meant the pay phone that was a little ways away from your house, near the woods. He had it put there long before you were born because lines inside the house were too easy to tap.
"As for the matter of you getting found out, don't."
You swallowed hard. Of course he wasn't being much help.
"When do I leave?"
"Tomorrow." He said simply.
That was it. That was enough to get you mad. Now this was definitely a joke.
"What?" You spat.
"I thought it would be best to wait to tell you. If I had told you sooner, you would've had too much time to think. Overthink. Make yourself too nervous. Maybe make rash decisions."
Your dad wasn't an idiot. He knew that the only reason you stayed loyal to him was because you had no one else. Telling you sooner would've given you too much of a window to make other plans. Plans to escape. You would finally be gone after all. With the right planning, you could easily disappear as soon as you left this prison. But of course, now you didn't have time to plan anything.
Not that you would.
Maybe.
Your blood was boiling. Your mind began racing. You didn't have time to check the words that came spilling out of your mouth.
"You're not giving me any time to prepare! It's like you want me to fail!"
The room fell silent. You stopped breathing and thought maybe he had too. You raised your voice at him. Nobody ever does that.
"Failure doesn't benefit me." He said quietly. "I don't want it and neither do you, trust me."With that he waved his hand and motioned for you to leave.
[A/N]
Woahhhh triple update.
I don't know, I'm impatient.
Anyways, here's something to read while we wait for Answer.

YOU ARE READING
Lying to Survive
Fanfiction"I don't get it," you started. "how do you live like this? How do you not get caught?" Hoseok smiled that same heartbreaking grin. A smile that didn't quite go with the life he led. "It's easy. Lie to survive." -------------- You had just turned...