Bonnie & Clyde | Bang Chan Mafia AU

Ch. 2

"Ah, fuck."

You stared at the iced coffee that was currently sloshing down your hands and the front of your shirt. You weren't surprised that it happened, though. Clumsiness always had a way of finding you.

Making one last hopeless attempt to dry the stain on your (half-brown) white shirt with a tissue and some water from your bottle, you eventually gave up. Thank God you left your cardigan in the car. You mentally thanked your brain, even if the cardigan was an ugly shade of mustard.

You threw the now-empty cup in the trash can, "Kobeee!"

Miss.

Your amazing aim skills missed the damn trash can... that was literally only three feet away. Looking around the empty parking lot, you scurried to grab the cup and just dropped it in the hole of the trash can. Dumbass, you thought to yourself.

Beep! You unlocked your 2017 Honda Civic with the key from afar. The car was a present from your parents for your 21st birthday. You weren't one to care for gifts, but this automobile was in short, your child. You cared for that shit like it was your baby.

Plopping on the driver's seat, you put on the ugly mustard cardigan. At least it was soft and covered your coffee shirt stain. Starting the car, you took a deep breath in. After years, you were finally meeting your relatives. The last time you saw them, you were the size of an oompa loompa. Eventually, you calmed yourself enough to drive out of your apartment's parking lot.

-

This was definitely not his house. Grandpa is too modest for that.

After what seemed like hours (20 minutes), you arrived at the address your parents sent you. The address came with a common message, don't be late! Wear something that doesn't have Harry Potter on it for once in your life.

You felt suspicious beforehand anyway. You knew your grandpa was well-off, but you didn't know he was filthy rich enough to live in a mansion up in the hills. The grapevines and wine tasting centers nearby made it clear to you that this was rich-people territory.

The mansion was quite large and elegant. It was large enough to look like it belonged to an influential celebrity, but discreet enough to hide in the hills.

Oh god. The anxiety started to kick in.

What if my uncles and aunts disapprove of me? I only have one bachelor's degree in accounting, for Christ's sake.

And my cousins? They're all dudes, but they're probably prettier and more successful than me. I probably look like a rat if I stand next to them.

What's the entire point of this "reunion" anyway? Is someone dying? Do I really need to attend?

You secretly thought of making a run for it (in the car, of course). It's not like your relatives would notice, right? You looked around your surroundings and saw only nature and other parts of the manor.

Ring!

Your phone lit up. A text message from your mom.

Mum :) : you're two minutes late.

You mentally cursed at yourself. Your location was on the entire time... and your birth giver was standing at the front doors. Shyly, you got out of the car and waved at your mother. You were kind of surprised to see her in a dress. She seemed as if she was going into a conference room, not a family reunion night. Immediately, you felt underdressed. Without a doubt, you knew your mustard cardigan, coffee-stained white shirt, ripped jeans, and black vans wouldn't cut it.

Your mom greeted you at the steps leading inside. She started combing the top of your hair quickly. "Why do you never brush your hair," she asked in frustration.

You simply shrugged. Your hair was bipolar. It only looked nice when you woke up from a good nap or did chores around your apartment. But, at a party? Split ends. At a dinner or meeting? Frizz.

After smoothing your hair out, the two of you walked inside. At first, you were hesitant, but you felt a bit safer, since your mom was walking in front of you.

The house was, to say in the very least, beautiful. It's interior was white marble and cedar wood. Gold-framed portraits hung on the walls. Giant family tapestries lined every part of the living room. The stairs leading to the second floor was laden with velvet carpet. Your studio apartment looked like a hovel compared to this.

"Y/N?"

You looked away from a tapestry depicting a rather fat baby to look at the person who just spoke.

"Grandpa?"

It took you less than a millisecond to recognize his face. You could never really forget the person that raised you.

But, he looked... older.

Grandpa Jin was always a handsome man. He reminded you of Ronald Reagan. But, now, he looked more like Reagan with Alzheimer's. His normally charming, stern face was wrought with age. Something was wrong.

Despite your thoughts, you hurried to embrace the old man. He smelled like what he always smelled like. A combination of leather, pine, and weirdly, powder. It was probably your grandmother's.

"My, you're so grown up now," Jin said, his eyes filling with sorrow. Inside, he regretted having to cut off connections. He just wanted you in a safe place while the rest of the family continued to work in the deadly business.

"Goodness! My baby!" You looked up from your grandfather's shoulder and saw your (quite plump) grandma running toward you. She, on the other hand, looked just how she did years before. You smiled. I hope she never grows older. Again, you took in her scent of roses and face powder. Who knows if they would have to leave you a second time?

They led you, along with your mother, into the gathering room where the rest of your relatives were. Your father had 5 brothers, and all of them had sons and no daughters (unfortunately). You were an only child, so your childhood was lonesome. As you walked inside the room, eyes turned.

It's probably my coffee stain, you thought. But, you were too preoccupied with how pretty your male cousins were to comprehend the real reason they were staring at you.

"We-uh have something to tell you, y/n," your mother said, laying a hand on your shoulder. You spotted your father amongst the wave of relatives, his face stern and stoic.

Something is definitely not right.

"It's about what the family actually does," your mother continued. Your heartbeat started to race. Thoughts of murder, sex trafficking, and drug cartels passed your mind. It's like those movies where the families are secretly some type of secret society. But... this is reality. It can't be real... right?

"We are a mafia."

No.

Our family... kills?

Assassinates people?

Our family deals illegally?

This couldn't be happening. Your grandfather was too moral for that. No.

Your vision started to blur and your breathing was irregular.

I am NOT related to criminals

Please, let this be a dream.

"Y/n, are you alright?"

"Y/n!"

The world started spinning. The lights turned black. You fall into a void.

Turns out this beautiful mansion was just a facade of an ugly truth.