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"Who is it, Yoongs?" Taehyung yelled out and chomped on his lunch.

He heard no answer from Yoongi but the painter could hear multiple footsteps charging and marching towards their direction. Namjoon looked at the painter in confusion as he patted his stomach dry.

Taehyung shrugged and continued to eat his lunch.

When the footstep stopped, the three guests would've burned a hole through Taehyung's head if they didn't spare Namjoon a glance. The professor immediately felt alarmed and held onto his phone firmly, his thumbs sneakily making their way towards the contacts button.

Yoongi returned to the kitchen who stayed near the wall, keeping his eyes to the ground and not meeking out a single sound. The tense and heavy atmosphere that the three guests brought with them permeated throughout the whole apartment, the tension grew thicker, you couldn't even cut it with a knife, you'd need a chainsaw to break free from this unavoidable and draining tension.

The tall pouty-lipped guy eyed everyone in the room, narrowing his eyes at Namjoon and sending an unimpressed glare at Yoongi before turning to Taehyung with rage firing up from the depths of his brown eyes.

The sunny afternoon sky hid behind the morbid amount of clouds that flew by, the weather turned cloudy as the sun didn't want to engage its rays and see the tension growing thicker and intense with each passing second within the Kim/Min shared household.

The female took a step forward, she took her huge cat eyeglasses out and folded them neatly, her eyes stapled on Taehyung's side. The painter sighed, feeling the burning and unnerving stares of the guest.

"Hello again, son." She smiled, her voice seemed so toxic, the way her eyes held nothing, not even a sliver hint of happiness upon seeing her youngest child in front of her sparked.

Taehyung placed his chopsticks down, he motioned for Namjoon to give him the paper towels. The professor stayed quiet and did what was told, staring at the guest now and then.

Taehyung sighed and ripped one off and wiped the sides of his mouth. He caught Yoongi's concerned stare, the painter could only send a small smile towards his direction before giving his parents the time of day.

"What do you want?" Taehyung asked, his whole body turned towards the direction of his parents and his older brother who could only look at Taehyung with so much hatred in his eyes.

Although the older brother looked calm, his hands that he placed behind him turned into a fist, he wanted to punch Taehyung over and over again, yell at him and blame everything on his little brother.

The mom shook her head and placed a fake smile on her lips, her bold red lips shining under the fluorescent lights. "Is that how you should speak to your mother?"

The other man looked at Taehyung, glaring his eyes at him and pointing at the painter, "Be grateful we even bothered to visit you in this shithole!"

The mother turned to the father and placed her index finger up, shushing him up immediately. She turned her attention to Taehyung who's stoic face grew hard, having heard his father's outburst Taehyung needed to calm himself down desperately. "Anyways, about the company—"


"Get out."


Taehyung stated, keeping his composure and voice firm, the mom could only laugh at her son's request, she kept her ground and took a step closer to him, her black heels making a sharp sound against the wooden flooring.

"No." She sauntered out, her voice slithered around Taehyung's ears, irking him and making him wish he could just throw them out of the window for disturbing his peace. "About the company, you need us." She explained, hooking her hands on her hips and letting a small smile on her red lips.

Namjoon furrowed his brows, who were these people? What business do they have here and what do they mean by the company and need them? He already had so many questions before his charade happened, the professor could only shoot Yoongi a confused look.

The two men behind the mom stayed quiet, noting that it wasn't their time to talk yet, "You are to leave this painting whim you have and go with us and take the company. Make an heir too," She paused before flashing the painter a file and placing it on the table, "Chose one of those women, they'll be the mother of your child."

If glares could kill the three guests would've been lying dead in their own pool of blood right then and there on the wooden floor, but sadly, they can't. Taehyung crossed his arms and pushed the file away from him, earning another glare from his older brother. "Are you expecting me to just blindly say yes to you and your delusional mind?" Taehyung insulted, his voice almost growling from the anger and rage that struggled to be suppressed.

"Remember, you threw me out of the house, you said I wasn't useful to you anymore and that you regretted having me," Taehyung paused, no, he wouldn't cry in front of his shit parents no, that would be showing them that they won and are still affecting Taehyung.

"Taehyung, shut up." The brother spoke up, rolling his eyes at the younger ones' drama.

"You fucking shut up, Seokjin, you don't know what it feels to just be discarded on a corner left to rot and starve for days end!" Taehyung yelled, his voice causing the two men behind the painter to flinch and continue to listen on. The painter stood up, took the files, and harshly pushed them back to his mom's chest, making her stumble from the force.

"Get the fuck out of my house." The painter said, his voice dripping with dominance and authority, the father was about to say something but the younger child beat him to it, "Anything you say will turn out stupid, so don't fucking speak anymore you shit father."

The mom kept her eyes on the younger Kim and sighed, "No we're not leaving until you sign the papers!" She yelled out, not even caring if they're getting the attention of the fellow neighbors.

Taehyung walked over to his mom, dragged her arm towards the door, and threw her out, her screams of protest only got louder with each step he took to lead her outside of their room.

He glared at the two men still left inside, anger seeping through his face, his left hand balled up into a fist, his knuckles turning white from the force and he struggled to even keep a steady mind. "Get out."

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