"You're going to help me 'till you shit that shit out, understood?"
"Eat my ass and maybe you'll increase your chances of getting it sooner."
Park Jimin is a troubled teenager who steals from other people to keep himself on his own two feet. But one...
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↻ ʙᴀʙʏ ʙʟᴜᴇꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱɪʟᴇɴᴄᴇʀꜱ ↺
Jimin stands in front of a gay club by the name of H.I.M, forefinger toying with the collar of his blouse. He's so anxious and nerve-racked that Hoseok's voice in his ear sounds distant, like he's a lone soldier marching into battle without any proper equipment. Many men have already drunken up his effeminate attire and his genuine timid expression. However his true sentiments are clearly twisted as most of them believe he's acting coyly, begging to be taken home.
"You lost, sweetheart?" A gravelly voice questions and Jimin flinches as soon as fingers brush at his small waist. He peers up and hates to admit that the man interacting with him is quite handsome. He's tall and his black hair is swept back, quiff style. He's youngish, breaching his early thirties.
Most likely Starling's type, he thinks.
'Jimin, this guy is Gwan Daeshim. He's one of Kah Seok's closest men. Follow him.'
The teenager is sure to keep his amplifying nerves an internal display and he forces a shy smile, small hands teasing his nape. "A little, yeah...I'm supposed to be meeting somebody but I think they stood me up," he replies quietly and the man smirks.
'Good excuse,' Hoseok lauds into Jimin's ear.
"How about I show you around? I know this place better than anybody," he suggests and despite the twist in Jimin's stomach, begging for him to say no, he nods his head and voices a timid 'okay,' allowing his hand to be grabbed.
He's led into the gay club and his immediate reaction is a scrunched nose and furrowed brows. It's been a little bit since he's last been in one and to say he doesn't miss the boisterous and pressuring environment is an understatement. Having not to steal for some time, being beneath the wings of Starling, has given him a small sense of what it's like to live without worrying about the potential of going without food, water or haven. It's still just as dangerous, arguably even more so. Perhaps the word surviving is more suitable. But he's been grateful. Even if his life is being put on the line as we speak to steal a god damn phone.
The lingering aroma and conformation of cigarette smoke tunnels into his nostrils and he feels his eyes water. It's almost enough to make him cough however he holds it in and allows himself to be dragged through the ocean of dancing men, all eager to pull him in with their tentacle-like arms.
'Okay, Jimin. Be careful. He's taking you to Kah Seok. Now we need you to concentrate and focus so we'll only talk into your ear if you need it. You're doing great so far.'
Jimin suspires quietly, feeling the pressure pile on. The fact he's being required to limp and use his bad foot doesn't make things any better. Initially he hated the crutches but now he misses them.
His thoughts are cut short as they enter an area of the gay club which happens to be much more quiet. The music is still discernible, however faint and growing distant the further they walk down a corridor, restricted for customers unless given approval of staff.
