Bulletproof | A BTS Gang AU

1: Where Did You Come From

My stomach growled as I peeked through the bakery window on Prescott. The bakers were in the back, getting ready for the morning rush, so no one was there to shoo my dirty, messy self away. I wondered absently what I could do to earn enough for a croissant or a muffin. What I wouldn't give for a warm, fresh, blueberry muffin right then. Sighing, I turned and headed for the other end of town. It was rougher, but I could occasionally scare up the buck fifty it took to buy a cup of coffee and a two-day-old doughnut from the corner diner.

Morning was taking forever to break and still it would be another two hours before the sunlight made its way down through the city skyline. It had been the coldest night I could remember on the streets and I had spent more time shivering than sleeping as I huddled behind a Dumpster in an alley. I had used the clothes I was able to steal from a street shop to form a makeshift lean-to, which had always worked before but this night it had done nothing to stop the constant flow of icy wind over my malnourished body. Before the sun had even broke through the city's buildings, I gave in, packed up my things, and started my day of foraging.

I had been on the streets for nearly a full year. It was all I could remember. My past went back exactly to the moment I woke up one night behind another Dumpster on the other end of town. I had been naked, alone, and afraid and was convinced that first night that I was going to die. Actually, it almost came down to that when a couple drunk guys found me in that state. We all discovered something new about me that night.

I was a fighter.

It took all of two minutes to take them both out. And by "take them out", I mean I killed them. It was natural in a terrifying way, but it had earned me some clothes, the backpack I still carried, and enough cash to get me through that first week. I felt bad about killing them until I overheard a news story about them being wanted in connection with some other rapes around town. After that, I decided I'd inadvertently granted some women justice and peace of mind.

The streets were just starting to fill with cars and pedestrians off to start their days at jobs and school. I didn't have enough money to make it off the ground level, so I was forced to stay on the crime-riddled streets fighting for every breath I took.

Oh, how I had tried to find a job in those first months, but nobody was going to hire a girl without a name or a barcode, no matter how pretty she was. I'd picked the name Morgan after seeing it in a financial advertisement and Smith because it was the most common, and invisible, last name possible for a white girl. But a made-up name wasn't enough to land me a job that didn't require me to be on my back. I'd tried stripping, but it turned out that I didn't like being touched by men and being a bitchy fighter was apparently "bad for business". Which also meant hooking was not an option.

The sun was up in earnest by then and reflecting brilliantly off the TechGlass windows of the high rises around me. I watched as, level by level, the solar-activated holographic adverts shut off. I hadn't come into any money yet so I climbed up the fire escape of the old tuna packing warehouse and watched the sun burn off the last of the morning haze. If I sat up there long enough, maybe it would warm my fingers and toes enough that I could feel them again.

Movement below caught my attention. I was sitting on the edge of the roof with my legs drawn up to my chest. It was a low building among giants, and I didn't want to be seen, so I slid back and moved onto my stomach so I could see over the edge while keeping a low profile.

I suddenly thought my luck for the day had shifted. A black SUV had pulled up to the side of the abandoned warehouse and a man got out. Not just any man, though. I had seen this guy at this location many times. He was tall and slim, but the way his clothes hung on him suggested strength and muscles. His pale, shaggy hair fell in his eyes, though sometimes he wore a wide band to hold it back. That day he was in full black. I liked the days he wore black.