Jimin uncrossed and recrossed his legs, leaning back against the plush leather of the limousine backseat. Seething. Teeth sharp. Ready to cut for blood-
That idiot. Park Chanyeol-
That was utterly humiliating-how can I expect to face that old sack of bones again with a straight face? Humiliating. Completely disgusting.
The party had ended sometime around three o'clock in the morning. However, instead of making his excuses and returning to the Manor and attempting to get some sleep-in a near daze of rage and fury, he'd summoned Mark and ordered his driver to take him back to the Park Jewerly Company-that tiny, woebegone shop they'd visited only that afternoon.
I've never been so insulted in my life.
Well-
I'll make sure he pays.
He figured leaking the story to the press and ruining the Park Jewerly Company-putting that idiotic, vile, waste-of-space family out of business-was a good place to start.
But no-
That wasn't enough.
Not nearly.
He needed it to hurt more.
More.
Personally.
After all, his grievance against Park Chanyeol was personal, was it not? As was his rivalry with Johnes, who seemed to have completely captured the upper hand in their constant game of challenges?
Johnes had won the battle.
Jimin would ensure that he and he alone would win the war.
He looked out the window at the lamplit streets as Mark drove him smoothly through town, hands quaking by his sides; he balled them into fists and shoved them in his lap, chewing furiously on his lower lip as the car pulled up before the small building containing the shop and the residential apartment above it.
Before Mark could get the door for him Jimin had thrown it open and practically leapt out of the vehicle, gnashing his teeth as pure liquid fire roared through him; heart pounding in his ears, blood boiling under the cool night air. Endlessly repeating in his mind, as if it were the only mantra to keep him sane:
I will make them pay.
And I know exactly how-
He squinted his eyes in the dark and walked around to the side of the building, where he found a set of wooden stairs, with a rusty metal handrail, leading up to a door. This must be their apartment… Shuddering at the thought of the squalor these fools must surely have inhabited, he ascended the staircase, not deigning to touch the handrail, and knocked.
*knock knock knock *
In the plain but cozy living room of the apartment, Chanyeol was bringing his older sister Rosé- home from graduate school for the semester-she'd decided to go the museum route and was studying to be a curator-her dinner on a tray. A lump of vegetables sat beside what appeared to be a sticky clump of rice-despite all of Chanyeol's charm and talents in other areas, Rosé noted with a small smile, cooking was not among his specialties…
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𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐒
Romancethose who fear the thorns, can't pick up the roses. SLOW UPDATES ! ONGOING ! © rosiesjimin 2019