VANTAGE POINT

♦three♦

TAEHYUNG

     Fuck, this isn't what I wanted to do today. I could've just gone through Joon's bitching and nothing would've happened, he thinks.

     The man against the wall brings him back to the present. "Man, I know you're pressed or some'n, but I dunno nun' about Jeon and his little gang." 

     "God, are you fucking kidding me right now?" Taehyung says with frustration seeping in each word. "See, I'm honestly not in the mood to kill anyone. Really. But you're a terrible fucking liar, just tell me the shit and it'll be easy." As if the gun wasn't pressed deep enough, Taehyung pushed it into the man's back harder, pushing him to the limits.

     The man hisses, shifting under the uncomfortable weight from the gun. "Do you think I should try for a career in acting, Viper?" 

     A laugh slips from Taehyung's lips and the urge to choke the man in front of him became a little more tempting. "Hope you know this shit isn't fun and games, buddy."

     "Oh, I know," the man slyly says with a grin.

     In an instant, a bullet rips through Taehyung's skin. Once. Twice. An angry burn runs through his calf and arm and blood drips onto the ground as the young man grits his teeth together in attempt to withstand the pain. Taehyung tries to lift up his right arm to shoot the attacker, but it falls right down, bring the rest of his body with him.

     An unfamiliar sigh resonates through the shallow air above his body. "For someone who was so close to the chair, I thought you'd be better than this." Taehyung clenches his fist as a foot slams his head into the ground.

     And suddenly, he's the one held at gunpoint.

-----

NAMJOON - an hour before the present

     "Taehyung!" Namjoon shouts, gripping the plush handles of the chair. "God, can you get your thick skull to realize that it isn't all about you? You have people that are willing to help you, Tae, so stop trying to do everything so quickly!" 

     He watches Taehyung's face morph into anger and slam his hands on the desk's keyboard. Taehyung runs his fingers through his hair, an impulsive habit Namjoon's become accustomed seeing over the years.

     "So what am I supposed to do then?" Taehyung bursts out. "Just sit back? Relax? I have a fucking MAFIA to run!"

     "Tae, you're only 22," Namjoon sighs, resting his face in his palms, "and still unbelievably immature. I'm your advisor and basically your right-hand man, so depend on me, goddammit. Is it that hard to understand?"

     A water-fountain pen wisps past his ear, air running past the side as the pen strikes through the surface of the wall behind him. "Just shut the hell up already, will you? Jesus, Kim, you're so fucking irritating - you're always getting into my shit, breathing all on my neck and looking for mistakes!"

     Namjoon feels his eyebrows perk up and his fingers tap against the desk in front of him. He can also feel the vein in his neck begging to pop, bulging from the side as if it were a negative slope. He reaches up to the wall and his fingertips grazed the pen as he listened (irritably) to Taehyung moan and groan about how he was "too controlling," and "too repetitive and stuck up."

     "-So get off my ass for once and let me do things for myself!" Taehyung yells, standing up from his chair.

     This set of the bomb inside the man's head.