FALLEN PIECES | BTS

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❝People say not to make deals with the devil. Should have listened, Joonie.❞ - Arty's journal

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They didn't send makeup wipes.

There was food, however. Not cordon bleu by any means — it was some simple noodles in a watery broth — but Artemisia wasn't going to turn her nose up at it. Her stomach was far too insistent.

It was the same man from earlier that brought the food, his gold-dipped mask immediately recognisable. He didn't linger this time, simply setting the bowl on the ground by the prison-style door and leaving, the click of the lock echoing in the small room. The door didn't have a handle on the inside, she noticed with a frown.

Artemisia sighed as she got up from the single bed, the only piece of proper furniture in the spartan space. There was a metal toilet in the far corner of the room with a sink next to it, but that was it.

Oh, and the camera watching her every move. Mustn't forget that.

She picked up the bowl gingerly and returned to her bed, side eyeing the toilet in its corner. Having it in the same room as her food made her skin crawl.

'Bloody heathens,' she muttered.

The broth was, unsurprisingly, watery and tasteless. However, it was warm and did manage to satiate her growling stomach. Placing the bowl next to the door, Artemisia made her way back to her single bed and wrapped its only blanket around her. For the first time since being kidnapped, she allowed herself to relax her muscles, although it was more out of sheer exhaustion than genuine relaxation.

Who knew being kidnapped could be so tiring, she thought as she closed her eyes and leant back on the wall.

While the situation was less than ideal, she could at least be grateful for the fact that she was still in one piece and unharmed. The fate of Jisoo, however, lingered on her mind.

If the passing comments about the other girl were regarding Jisoo, then that complicated things for Artemisia. She could look after herself. But taking another person into consideration with any potential plans she made... Jisoo was a vulnerability Artemisia did not want the gang to exploit. She couldn't let the assistant come to harm. Unfortunately, that meant that Artemisia would have to carefully consider any action she took from then on.

'But that's a problem for tomorrow, Arty,' she muttered, sliding down so her head rested on the thin pillow, tucking the blanket up to her chin. It wasn't long until the young woman was in a restless asleep, the room's dim light still on.

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Artemisia woke up feel horrible. She had a splitting headache, no doubt left over from the chloroform used to knock her out when the gang had taken her. Her eyes felt swollen and grubby from the makeup left on them; she didn't need a mirror to know that she had panda eyes.

With a groan Arty sat up on the cardboard thin bed, raising her arms with satisfying pops from her shoulders. Standing up, she straightened the blouse and wide legged pants she had been wearing when she was kidnapped.  She was still annoyed her kidnappers — what had they called themselves? BTS? — hadn't taken her coat and shoes with them.

'It's basic courtesy. You don't just leave a six-thousand-dollar coat in the backseat of a car,' she muttered under her breath, irritated. 'And nine hundred-dollar heels.'

Sighing, the young woman closed her eyes as she stretched her hands down to the floor, working out the kinks in her hamstrings and spine. A few more popped joints later, and she finally felt a little better.