Seduction Mortelle|| P. Jimin x Reader

IV

Beginning

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I spent the week running errands and being an absolute slave to my boss. He deemed it right for me to obey his every order since I had so scrumptiously decided to work however and whenever I wanted. Which was bullshit. I only wanted to get away from the nightmare.

But I was damned to enter another one.

It was Friday evening and my two off days were coming up. I had planned to slither into the hole that was my apartment and lay low for the weekend, just hoping that no one would come knocking on my door. No one that is after my life, that is.

My phone rang just as I was putting on the kettle for tea, craving something warm but tasty. I answered without looking at the caller ID, guessing that it would be my mother or my friend. I was instantly proven wrong by the huff of my boss's rough, bitchy voice.

"You have ten minutes to get to the bar. We need an extran hand."

"What-"

Click.

The dead line cut me off. I stared at my phone in disbelief, threatening anger boling up in my chest. Like hell I would go to that damned bar, especially this late at night.

When ten minutes were up and I was just sitting down on my bed, ready to huddle up and watch a movie, my said phone vibrated, indicating I had a text. I sighed in annoyance, clearly not bothering to open it. But when the next message arrived, I grabbed the device and angrily clicked on the notification.

My boss's chat opened and the text sent a chilling shudder down my spine.

Boss: You're fired.

Boss: Return the uniform tomorrow.

I quickly dialed his number, but it instantly sent me to the mailbox. Groaning in irritation, I scrambled off the bed and went straight to my dresser.

This fucking asshole had no right to treat me like a piece of garbage. If he thought I cared about that stinking job, then he was absolutely wrong. He could shove his egoistic dick up his ass along with his business.

So I grabbed the uniform and the scissors that were on my nightstand, ripping the fabric into shreds and packing it up in a fancy bag. I dressed up as quickly as possible and hailed a cab to the bar. When I reached it, it was a total wreck: the people, who probably weren't old enough to drink, were throwing things around, specifically glasses with alcohol; the smell of drugs and cigarettes was so strong that I had to cover my nose with my sleeve; the mass of people was huddling up on the dance floor (which obviously wasn't a fucking dance floor) slapping their sweaty bodies around. And worst of all: couples, one night stands and hookers were kissing, groping, feeling each other up on every flipping corner.

It was hell.

And I absolutely did not regret not coming for the shift.

I pushed my way to my boss's office, finding him leaning back on his chair while a young girl was swallowing his junk. He attempted to cover himself pushing the girl away in the process, but I had already seen everything. I threw the bag in his face and flipped him off with a middle finger.

"There's your fucking uniform. If you want fucking whores to work here, then maybe you should hire some, you fucking pedophile."

I roared, then sprinted out of the office and out the bar into the chilly night. I was beyond pissed. Infuriated. Working my ass off, five days in a week, sometimes not even having the time for a break, I was a slave to (almost) his every need. He made moves on me, but luckily I was the smart one and kicked him in the nuts every time.