The cure (BTS +Got7)

Pilot: The Itch

The itch. Every day, every hour, Every second it was there. It wasn't something I could just scratch once and it would fade, no it was always present. The only treatment was another dose, and that only lasted for a few hours. So again it itched, impossible to ignore, resist. I was told about the itch, told that it drove even the strongest mind insane. I believed I could handle it, resist it. I was wrong.

The itch drove me on, down the abandoned streets of Seoul, through the rain, the chills. No external forces could stop me, I needed it. The itch grew worse the longer I had to wait, my pulse raced as I increased my pace. I shivered from the icy winds cutting through my thin, stolen hoodie, winter was coming. That meant life on the streets would only get more challenging, more dangerous. The year before I was lucky, I had a place to stay, food, shelter, people. I guess I gave that up for a high.

About a year ago I lost everything, my family was gone. I was gone. I ran from my home and its taunting memories, I wasn't thinking. I made my way here to the city of Seoul, with the intention of starting again. It was stupid, I was stupid. Here I had nothing, I was nothing.

Everything I saw, I saw with a tint of grey. No lustre, no glory only grey. That's when I met him, his blond hair soft, his skin seemed to glow like an Angels  would. He was flawless, chiseled features one could only imagine, And he had a cure, an option. I work for him and his crew, and I would see the world as it once was. I took it without a second thought, I needed to see the world as it should be. I hated the grey.

He smiled causing my heart to skip a beat as he took my small dirty hand in his, his hand was strong, warm and surprisingly soft. His eyes bore into my mind almost as if he could read my thoughts. He was like an angel, one you would read about in mythology, golden, beautiful, perfect. Well everything but his eyes, they were dark, as if they had seen the worst this world could offer. They were broken, much like mine.

He lead me down the cracked streets to a small shack, it was rundown. It's once Crimson paint was faded and chipped and illuminated by the over head light it appeared brownish like dried blood. The windows were shattered and warn plywood filled their holes. The only thing still intact were the six padlocks that adorned the door. He unlocked each one, slowly and calmly. Obviously he had done it many times. Once the last lock clicked open he pulled me closer, my shoulder connected with his broad chest and he hand rested on my hip.

"Don't say a word" he warned, his voice caused my heart to race as he lead the way through the once locked door. I could feel every breath he took through the thin fabric of his t-shirt and the soft rythmatic beating of his heart. The inside of the small building matched the outside perfectly. The wallpaper was torn and painted letters littered it's once simple pattern. The couch was barely visible under the sleeping bodies. A soft song played in the background as he lead me carefully through the room, avoiding the feet of more sleeping forms. After what felt like an eternity of silence we entered the far room.

The atmosphere of this room was as different as it could get. In the centre of the room there sat a desk, behind it a warn leather chair, that resembled a throne from the old oil paintings. In the throne there sat a man, slimmer than the one I was with. He smiled easily, his eyes still had a sparkle of youth. We stopped in front of the desk and the Angel released me, looking down into my eyes causing the knot in my stomach to tighten once again.

He crossed over to the smaller man and silently motioned for him to move before he started to talk in his angelic voice once again.

"So if I'm not mistaken, you have nothing left," he stated causing a chill to run through my body, "don't worry I didn't read your mind or anything, its obvious, you're alone, starving, and you didn't hesitate, when I gave you the option of seeing the light again." He stopped talking and looked into my eyes, I couldn't reply. It was the truth.

"So I can give you the ability to see colours again, but it comes with a price. I'll need you to stay here and work for me and my crew, by doing as we say you will be rewarded, understand?" I nod slowly trying to comprehend his explanation, "now this can cause some side effects, one of which we call the itch," he explained while he removed a small vial from his desk drawer, "the itch is always present, it cannot be relieved, you must learn to ignore it, otherwise it will destroy you". His voice continued as my eyes become glued to the vial in his pale hand.

The vial contained a transparent liquid with a red shimmer, it appeared to move on its own trying escape the bonds of the glass. He smiled and held out the vial, my eyes met his dark gaze as I took it into my hand. It was cold, as if it was absorbing the last of my childhood, my innocence.

"Mark, do you mind?," the Angel asked while pointing at my confused form. "You can never go back, it only takes one dose, do you understand?" I could be nothing but nod, what was I doing, I had to escape, escape? There was nothing left for me. This could give me what I lost about a year ago, the ability to see the light.

Mark took the vial and pulled out a syringe, his eyes fell as he looked into my empty gaze. He was scared, he wanted to tell me to run, to escape while I still could. The Angels voice continued as he explained what would happen to me, I couldn't comprehend it. The promise of joy, light consumed my thoughts. I nodded one again as Mark took my arm in his soft grip.

"I'm sorry" was all he said as he inserted the needle skillfully into the crock of my elbow and pushed the plunger. It felt like ice, followed by fire. Pain, anger, hunger they were all forgotten. The air seemed fresh, the room clear, flawless. the Angel seemed to glow from across the room. His aura seemed to spread through me, intoxicating. He smiled once before he held out his hand, the light seemed to radiate from his skin. I took his hand, and was surprised by the warmth that seemed to spread through my veins.

"I'm Jackson, and I am the leader of this crew."

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