𓆩・༺ ꔫ ༻・𓆪
He didn't lie when he said there were more fences. I expected there would be a few. I was wrong.
The numerous fences won each time against me, but I got over them. He climbed over without breaking a sweat; I struggled in more ways than one.
From my phobia, my shoes slipping, and landing on my ass, I would say fences are my weakness. Maybe a rival at this point.
However, I leave behind the negative memories of the fences I've passed, focusing on the moment at hand.
"We're here," he stands with a straight posture, grinning. He looks over the abandoned property with proudness radiating off of him, glistening in his chestnut eyes.
Following his gaze, I see the buildings in front of us. There are two, vacant warehouses stationed near the docks. The structures are old with rust and blue paint peeling off of the walls. They are two stories tall with broken windows, littered trash scattered around the grounds, and graffiti lining the outside walls and pavement. Tall fences wrap around the property line, which we jumped a few moments ago. I'm thankful to be done with jumping for the day; my feet are killing me.
"Before we go in, we need to set a few rules. I need you to call me by my name, not Street Killer, or criminal. Call me Jungkook; I'll call you Vee."
"So you're willing to use my real name here and not Bee? Why?" I raise my eyebrow, scanning him with a perplexed expression.
I'm not complaining, only curious why he wants to call me by my real name. Perhaps, it's because he realized his rudeness.
"The people here need to know you're on their side; they need to trust you. Newcomers are treated... not so nice until their initiation—their pledge—takes place. It's to let everyone here know you can be trusted and are part of the family. We need to act friendly amongst each other, or else they won't hesitate to kick you out. I'm doing this to help you."
"Initiation? There's no way I'm getting involved with what you do. You and your family are criminals. You ruin businesses and hurt innocent lives in the process." Despite my honesty, he doesn't hold an attitude. His smile does falter at the words, though.
"If you want my protection, this is your only choice, or else you can take your chance with the public, which I'm sure would be prepared to gather the reward money after they turn you in." He raises his brows, stepping toward the building. He looks at me with an emotionless face. "I'm right, and you know it. Either treat me with respect while staying here, or you can go back where you came from and deal with the issue yourself."
The wind blows past us, stirring our hair in the direction it wishes to go. His eyes stare into mine with seriousness. I find myself sighing.
"Just because I'm staying here for a while doesn't mean I'm going to join your gang of thieves. You can't make me. I will, however, respect you if you respect me."
He shrugs the topic off, not caring at the moment. The view before him is too grand of an opportunity to miss witnessing the lighting of the setting sun.
His features never falter with disappointment when looking at the buildings ahead. Instead, he starts moving forward down the hill, motioning with his hand to me.
"Come on," his urgent tone grabs my attention. I watch him slide down the rough patch of dirt and rocks. "Don't tell me you're afraid of hills, too,"
Despite his mocking tone and challenging glance, I don't hesitate. I inhale a large breath and run down the hill after him.
I realize I'm going too fast when I can't control the speed of my legs any longer. I pick up the pace until I make it to the ground. However, my feet continue to run until I crash into him.
The rough landing on the pavement is enough for both of us to let out groans of pain.
We ease up into a sitting position where we move away from one another and stand on our feet. "Next time, follow what I do, or else you'll kill someone,"
His earlier tone vanishes, replaced with annoyance instead. His hand presses against his temple; mine massages my shoulder. His bitter words disappear when a person rushes toward us.
"Jungkook!" I watch a guy sprint, tackling him to the ground. A reenactment of the catastrophe from seconds before.
"Can people stop crashing into me!" He pushes the other male off of him, dusting himself off when he stands to his feet once more.
"Sorry," the person who tackled him apologizes with an innocent grin. He scratches the side of his cheek while squinting his eyes shut, letting a soft chuckle leave his lips.
"You're too wild for your own good, Jimin." I stand silent, watching the two men talk amongst themselves until I'm dragged into the conversation.
"Jimin, this is Vee. She'll be living with us for a while. She's new, so could you show her around? I've got to speak with Ghost about the next mission." He pats Jimin's shoulder, walking by him but stops in front of me.
"It's been a pleasure to meet you, Vee. I hope we can get along," he grabs my hand, shaking it firmly. He flashes a wink as if a shushed whisper to my eyes only.
"Me as well, Jungkook," speaking his name for the first time is a bit odd. It holds an authoritative tone in the letters which combine his name. It's strange. "I hope to see you around later," I return the friendly handshake, and we part ways.
Jungkook walks away to the closest warehouse. He strides with confidence—a walk someone only with power can pull off. Who exactly is he?
"So you're Vee?" The stranger next to me smiles with warmth.
"Yes, and you're Jimin?" I return the kindness.
Taking him in, I memorize his face. His delicate features, plump lips, short eyelashes, and every part of his features take root within my mind. I'm going to have to remember him if I can't find Jungkook. Jimin's hair is brown, shining with the light of the sun.
With a gentle nod, he grins. "The one and only. Let me show you around since you're new. I'm not sure if we have room or not. Maybe Barbie could find a spot for you." He places his hands into his black pockets. His baggy, brown pants give him room to move more freely.
"Barbie? Like the doll?" I ask intrigued.
He shakes his head with a laugh. "No, no, she's one of the top leaders here. See, everyone here can either use their real name or a nickname. Most people use nicknames, but I prefer my own, similar to Jungkook. However, if you watch the news, you should know Jungkook's nickname is the Street Killer. Mine is Little Guy—a nickname I rather hate, but the police have given us names to make it easier to catch us." He explains with a smooth expression, not at all caring about the police or the public. He talks about it so casually.
"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