𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐒

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"Ah. Of course, Mr. Park-I can't leave without paying for your time. How much do I owe you?" He reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out a sleek, elegantly-stitched black wallet-new, opened up the billfold.

Chanyeol's mouth went dry. "Fifty dollars, Mr. Park-" After all, Father charged one hundred-twenty-five per hour… and Mr. Park was only here for maybe fifteen, twenty minutes? … Should I be rounding up?

Jimin withdrew a crisp hundred-dollar bill and tossed it onto Chanyeol's desk as Chanyeol nearly hiccuped in surprise. "Keep the change, Mr. Park." Replacing the wallet smoothly, he bowed his head towards the younger man, who responded with the same gesture. "Thank you for your service, Mr. Park. You've proven quite helpful to me…" Ha. I can't wait to see the look on John's face…

Chanyeol grinned broadly, pawing at the brand-new money on his desk, with its strange, papery scent, trying to disregard the fact that his shirt back was near-completely soaked. "No, Mr. Park, thank you!" He let go of the bill and walked around the desk, waving through the open door as Park Jimin dipped inside the backseat of the stretch limousine.

As the car pulled away, Chanyeol slowly shut the door to the Park Jewerly Company and sagged against the door, feeling his pulse becoming erratic.

I do hope I was right…

_____________________________________

Midnight draped itself over Seoul City like a velvet curtain, punctuated throughout by the gleaming silvery spires of skyscrapers. Chief among them was the ParkCorp headquarters, the tallest tower of them all, the top five floors of which were currently bustling with finely dressed partygoers mingling in dim, seductive lighting-where Park Jimin's party was presently occurring. Champagne, liquor all flowed freely from bottles older than than Seoul City itself. Hors d'oeuvres were passed around on trays by attractive waitresses, who gave the various industry leaders in attendance increasingly inviting looks as the night went on. Couches. Chairs. Low tables. Whispers. Laughs. People in corners-

And in the center of it all, surrounded by the crème-de-la-crème of the Seoul business community-CEOs, presidents, board members- was Park Jimin. Looking sharp in a black tuxedo, silk bowtie, embossed belt and cufflinks, face plastered in a suitably warm smile, brown eyes twinkling with what appeared to be good humor-Park Jimin was in top form this evening as the host of the party. As a waitress brought another round of drinks for the men standing in the small circle-while Jimin was, of course, still nursing his first glass of scotch-the better to be on top of things-he lifted his glass and cleared his throat.

"A toast, gentlemen, if you will. To the promise of a new partnership between ParkCorp and RedWorks!" He fought a scoff from twisting up his throat at the fairly ridiculous name of the company his own had utterly conquered through purchase as the rest of the men lifted their glasses and drank.

Jimin took a small sip and licked the remainder of of the rich liquor off his lips before clearing his throat once more. "Now, my friends, shall we retire to my private office? I'm sure there will be plenty of interesting things for you to do up there…" Like scantily clad women. Lingering in the shadows. Aiming to be taken home for the night by a rich man. Often succeeding.

Though rarely with Jimin himself.

And, of course, the display case with his precious gem.

As the men murmured their assent, the idea ringing true in their drink-addled brains, they followed Jimin to the elevators, where Jimin punched in the private code to access his office floor.