𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 || 𝐉.𝐉𝐊 ✓

⊘ • ❺ • ⊘

"I didn't know about any of that. So everyone staying here," I gesture to the two warehouses ahead, "has nicknames given to them by the police?"

"Yeah, it's kind of funny, in a sense. Jungkook has never been seen by the public or police; his face is a mystery to everyone but us. There are people here whose identities have been revealed, but most people here have been able to conceal their identity." The more he explains, the more curious I become.

"I never knew," I end it there.

"You'll learn much more while staying with us. However, be prepared to receive rudeness until your initiation. If you don't plan to go through with it, you'll be kicked out. You have a few days to make a decision. Those are just the rules of living here." He steps forward, wearing wooden, sandals while readjusting his baggy shirt which is tie-dyed in a mishap of colors.

"One more rule I probably should mention before you meet the rest. We are a nonjudgmental society. There will be consequences if judgment is placed where it shouldn't be. We are aiming for peace, and the home that we've built will always treasure its peaceful nature." Although he says those words, I can't believe him. After all, they're causing chaos.

"What else should I know?" I ask, almost mumbling the question.

"About me or the family?" He ponders with innocence, smiling from ear to ear while spinning around and walking backward to face me. He pulls down his funky sunglasses which are similar in color to his tie-dyed shirt. "Or both?" Another mischievous grin escapes his lips when placing his hands behind his back, continuing to step back yet listening to me.

"Whichever will be fine," I must not seem convincing because a sudden laugh falls from his lips.

"I know you want to learn about the family. However, a summary of me will be quite alright, too. I'm a runaway from Cali, California, if you don't get the name. I was brought up to be the perfect son, but I didn't want that. I stripped my last name, burned my old clothes, ran away, and began anew. I'm finding myself at the moment, so excuse the funky, hippy vibe. It makes me happy, and right now, I think everyone needs happiness in their life, including you." Without giving me time to respond to what he says, he changes the topic.

"The family is a group, gang, crew, society, or whatever term you would like to call us, but in short, we're a family, searching for the same goal. We want peace. If we need to commit a crime to achieve it, we will. We target people who have committed many wrongdoings and who have hurt others in ways unimaginable. If the police won't do anything, we will." His smile from moments before vanishes to a stern, serious gaze before he lowers his head, turning the opposite direction and walking normally again. "Anyway, let me show you around."

𓆩・༺ ꔫ ༻・𓆪

Pushing the double doors open with both hands, driven with full force, Jimin steps into the first warehouse with pride. "This is where I live," he admits, waving to a few people who sit around old, torn, or creative chairs.

"Most everyone lives here. The other warehouse is for people who have the drive—I'll explain all of that later," he talks over himself, moving his sunglasses to sit on top of his head. "So, what do you think?" He freezes in his steps, outstretching his hands in the air for me to admire the building we're inside.

My eyes move from his to around the room. I see a place different from what I'm used to. There are no children, no elderly, only full of young adults.

The furniture in the room doesn't match, each piece is colored, designed, or built differently than the next, making the room blend with the colors of the world. It's clear to see the space we're inside is the living area.

I hear the sound of a soft melody playing, joined by what appears to be a guitar, voice, and piano. I hear the shouting of a victor being called a cheater. Tearing my gaze to the left, I see the victor taking all of his winnings at a game of cards. Everyone is making their entertainment.

The ceiling is painted in different sections. I spot a girl high up in the air working on a painting near the corner of the room.

"That's Daisy. She's the lead artist around here. I believe she's painting The Great Wave off Kanagawa." He looks above, placing his hands behind his back.

"How did you know what she's painting?" I look at him. His eyes drag from the painting to mine.

"I was brought up to be the perfect son, remember? I studied numerous subjects. Though the arts intrigued me the most." I find myself star-struck by the many different paintings above.

With time ticking, I'm not able to explore the rest of the living corridors before I'm motioned on a trip through the rest of the warehouse.

Jimin guides me upstairs. His sandals clink against the black metal of the steps when we walk one story above. I hold onto the cold railing, steadying myself in case my sore feet give out at any second. I'm surprised they haven't yet.

A few steps after we make our way up the stairs, Jimin turns into the first room on the right. I'm speechless.

"Barbie, how have you been today?" He moves into the next room with ease, opening his arms to hug the woman he's talking to, but she has another idea in mind. She doesn't hug him; she slaps him.

Her beauty takes me off guard as soon as I lay eyes on her. Her skin is dark, not tanned; she's black with a gorgeous skin complexion. Her eyes are aggressive, deep brown shining within them, and her hair is solid white, almost silver when she moves her head at a certain angle.

"That's for forgetting our anniversary, and this," she steps up, grabbing his cheeks and pulling him closer, "is for giving me the best sex of my life last night," her lips latch onto his hungrily. I turn around, focusing my attention away from the couple behind me. I step out of the room and place my hands on the black railing, overlooking the large room below.

It's odd. Knowing I'm surrounded by these people. I never thought they would act as normal as they do. I understand they're people, but I assumed criminals wouldn't act the same. I've always been scared of troublemakers. I never saw any good ever come from one. I'm surprised is all.

The door behind me shuts. I realize I'll be standing here for a while. Since Jimin is busy, I decide to walk into the next open room upstairs. However, when I do, I never would have expected the next person I see to be someone I know.

Laid out on a mini sofa with his legs crossed over one another and listening to music with headphones, I come closer to him. When I remove the headphones, he opens his eyes. With no doubt in my mind, we stare at each other in silence.

He stands to his feet, eyes surveying me until he grabs my shoulders tightly.

"Vee, what the hell are you doing here?" He asks with an urgent, yet rushed, tone.

"I can ask you the same, Yoongi."

𓆩・༺ ꔫ ༻・𓆪