𝐍𝐎 𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐒 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐃 ᵏᵗʰ

11 ┃ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐯𝐚𝐝𝐞

━ ⭒─⭑━

Wearing a janitor suit and cap, you emerge from a random room you had found refuge in during your escape. The outfit was a far cry from your previous set of clothes, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

With the disguise, you managed to bypass a few guards, your head bowed to avoid any direct eye contact as you shuffled onto the nearest elevator. Each press of a button felt like a gamble, each ding a step closer to freedom or failure.

As the elevator doors whispered shut, sealing you inside, your heart thudded frantically against your ribcage like a drummer setting the pace for your escape. The elevator made a humming sound as it slowly moved through the floors to reach your destination. You couldn't help but let your mind wander to your jacket—the main reason for this entire escapade. The thought of finally reclaiming it strengthened your determination.

Once the elevator doors opened again, you stepped out into the corridor, the janitor disguise blending perfectly with the environment. You moved cautiously, taking slow, measured steps as you peered through the windows of every room you passed, searching for any sign of your treasured hoodie. The building seemed endless, each hallway a mirror of the last, but you pressed on.

Then... you saw it.

There, in a room lined with large mirrors that reflected your anxious silhouette back at you, there hung the red jacket, casually draped over a chair as if waiting for you. A wave of emotions flooded through you at the sight. Relief, with a hint of victory, so sweet that it was almost overwhelming. Darting inside, your hands trembled as they closed around the fabric. There was a surge of sobbing relief as you held the jacket against you.

You did it. You finally got it back.

Then, just as you were basking in the triumphant glow of finding it, a sharp "Hey!" shattered the moment.

You weren't by yourself.

Spinning around, your heart sank as you locked eyes with a guard, his gaze like ice, fixating on you and the jacket clutched in your hands.

For a moment, neither of you moved—the standoff, tense and silent. Then, without a second thought, you bolted, the jacket clutched tightly in your grip as you dashed past him. The radio in his grasp crackled to life as he reported, "Suspect located on the 35th floor, main dance practice room."

This is it. It's over, I'm going to jail.

Panic clawed at your chest, but survival instincts kicked in, fueling a sudden burst of adrenaline. You weren't going down without a fight.

You feigned left before swerving to the right, initiating a sort of cat-and-mouse chase around the large room. Your abrupt move took the guard by surprise, causing him to stumble as he tried to follow. Seizing the opportunity, you sent a swift kick to his ankles, sending him sprawling to the floor with a well-placed trip.

Heart racing, you ran out of the room, the jacket clutched to you like a lifeline. Hurrying to the nearest stairwell, you could barely hear your own breathing over the pounding of your feet. Each step echoed a mix of fear and determination, propelling you forward.

Just when you thought you were about to collapse from exhaustion, you spotted it—a single unisex bathroom offering a temporary haven. As you stumbled inside, the shouts of "red jacket" and "janitor suit" faintly reached your ears.

Realization dawned that the disguise was now more of a beacon than camouflage.

With no time to spare, you shed the jumpsuit, abandoning it in a heap on the floor. Emerging from the bathroom, your civilian clothes felt both like a return to normalcy and a stark reminder of the reality you faced. Compared to the ruckus of the chase moments before, the corridors of HYBE were strangely quiet as you made your way outside once more.