↻ ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇᴅ ɢᴜᴇꜱᴛꜱ ᴀɴᴅ
ᴅᴇᴘᴀʀᴛᴇᴅ ᴇʏᴇꜱ ↺
As soon as Jimin wakes up, he whines out in discomfort. Rather than being tied up to a bed, he's tied up to a chair and his stomach aches. He can feel his cuts have been patched up however that doesn't mean they hurt any less and as he wiggles around, his wrists begin to burn up once again.
He isn't sure where he is. This is a place he's never seen before. It's nice to the eyes, but that doesn't mean it feels welcoming. Jimin studies where he's being held captive, taking note of the desk that sits adjacent to him. It reminds him of Jeongguk's, and there's nothing his wishes more than for it to be his. But that isn't the case and as the door opens behind him, he tenses. He stills his head and decides to stop moving.
"I didn't think I'd ever see you again, Jimin."
Said boy's eyebrows furrow. He hardly recognizes the gruff voice resonating in his ears and as soon as the man crosses the room, entering Jimin's vision, the teenager gapes.
This isn't real.
This can't be happening.
There's no way he's alive.
"Dad?"
"Hello, son."
Seeing as Jimin has no other choice, he sits still as he's bound to the chair. He supposes he should feel some form of relief seeing as his father is standing in front of him, in one piece, breathing.
Yet that isn't what he feels.
He feels angry. He feels frustrated, and confused. He stares at his father with this built up amalgam, prying into his soul with his keen, cold glare. His jaw tightens and if he could, he would launch himself out of his chair and shoot the man in the head himself.
"I'm sure you must be confused, Jimin. How am I alive? Why am I here, who am I really..." the man starts as he begins to circle his son who sits tied up to the chair helplessly.
Jimin bites down hard on his tongue as his father leans down in front of him, leveling their faces. "...Why did I do it? Why did I murder my wife?" he adds and Jimin keeps still with every struggling fiber in his body.
The man then stands up straight with a psychotic smile playing on his lips. He circles Jimin once again, placing his hand on his son's shoulder. The teenager jolts.
"Because she deserved it," he whispers lowly into Jimin's ear and the boy can't hold in his scolding hot anger any longer. He does exactly what he did to Kah previously and spits in his father's face.
The man's wicked upturned lips falter and he glowers at his son. He strikes him across the face and the boy whimpers out, head falling in defeat.
"Fucking do that again, you little piece of shit. I dare you," Mister Park tests before wiping his face down with a disgust-filled complexion.
The teenager keeps his head low and his mouth shut as he hides away from the barbaric look in his father's eyes. His cheek is hot and proceeds to burn up, however he keeps his tears at bay because he knows he won't be able to handle the humiliation that comes along with them. He's witnessed his father act out before on many occasions and has fallen victim to his brutal mouth as well as heavy hands one too many times. He was just a boy then and that was all he knew. He was never to cry in front of his father, otherwise the consequences would be ten times worse than the initial conflict.
So don't cry, he thinks to himself. Don't let him see you cry.
"Why..." he finally speaks up quietly, although he doesn't allow his father the sweet satisfaction of seeing the broken look woven onto his face. "Why did she deserve it? Why did you hate her so much? Why do you hate me?"
Jimin stiffens up as soon as he can see Mister Park's shoes slip into his downcasted vision. His jaw is gripped tightly and his head is jerked upward unpleasantly as he's forced to look at his father and the sadism in his hollow eyes.
"Because she fucking had you. I told her to get rid of the baby and she didn't listen. She never listened. Just like you. You're exactly like your mother was and it makes me sick to my stomach. You use your body to get by and she was the exact same fucking way. It was supposed to be a one time thing, Jimin. You were an accident. And she didn't get rid of you," Mister Park explains brashly with his words coldly coated and Jimin can feel himself tear up. But most importantly, he's angry.
He shifts against his restrains, unable to feel the ropes as they dig into his raw skin. An ember burns bright and hot in his chest and if he's given no chance to ignite it, he's going to erupt.
"Let me go," he demands with a broken timbre and his father simply laughs. The man releases his jaw and Jimin glares at his back as he retreats to his desk slowly, leaning against it and crossing his arms.
"Now why would I do that when I'm using you as bait, little one," he says with mock edge and the teenager's blood runs cold as his father's lips curl into an alarming smile.
"H-how-"
"Wouldn't you like to know?" he interrupts and Jimin can't find the energy to be completely angry anymore.
Instead he's afraid.
Afraid that something is going to happen to Jeongguk.
He doesn't know what he'd do with himself if the mafia leader died trying to save him.
But why would Starling go after him, anyways? It's not like he has a purpose. It's not like he's important. If anything, he's more of a nuisance while constantly 'needing' babysitting.
"What makes you think he'll come and rescue me? He doesn't even know who you are. He doesn't even know where I am," Jimin brings up and yet despite the solid points being made, the man doesn't look worried in the slightest. And in fact he seems a little too unperturbed considering his outburst of anger merely a few minutes ago.
Mister Park titters quietly while he shakes his head in amusement. "There's so much you don't know. Too busy giving your body away on the streets for paper clips and pocket lint. How desperate can you be?" he cheapens without hesitation and Jimin's brows come to a tight knit.
"Well if you didn't kill my mother and abandon me on the streets then maybe things would have been different! You're a fucking psychopath. And you're gonna get what you deserve one day," the teenager barks back and unfortunately, yet not to his surprise, he's hit once again.
And again, and again.
His vision blurs as a result of lack of water and food, coalesced with constant pain striking his exhausted body.
"Just do it," he breathes quietly while hunched over, watching the blood drip from his nose and hit his torn pants. "Just kill me already. Please," he begs with tamed desperation as his eyes struggle to stay open.
"You'd like that, wouldn't you? You're so fucking weak it's pathetic. I'm surprised you haven't died yet. I'm surprised Starling hasn't fucking slit your throat you're so useless. All you did was steal a meaningless piece of plastic from one of his men that got them jackshit," he talks zealously into his son's face with a pinched expression.
Jimin's face morphs in perplexion as much as it's able. How the fuck does he know all of this?
"All you're fucking good for is your body. You'll never find anybody to love you, ya' hear me?" he jabs one last time as he presses a finger to Jimin's chest and the teenager just takes it. He doesn't argue. He doesn't fight back. He's completely drained from head to toe.
"You're staying here until he shows up," Mister Park states and Jimin sits still as a gag is forced over his head and slipped into his mouth. He watches as his father nears a wall, opening a secret compartment filled with various types of guns. He stands there, seemingly picking which one to use as he grabs each one, studying them reverently and handling them with a tenderness Jimin never got to experience as an infant.
He'll never understand how firearms are more important than children and their futures.
"...How about this one?" he asks and Jimin looks over at the man blankly while he twists the gun in his hand, ogling it's beauty like a person would their favourite piece of jewelry.
His stomach twists as his father somehow has hearts in his eyes. Never did he look at his wife that way. With an immeasurable amount of admiration and respect.
"...Or maybe this one," he says again, this time picking up a different gun.
The teenager simply watches blankly as his father switches from gun to gun, seeing as he can't exactly say anything. The man is clearly showing off yet Jimin is everything but impressed. It's as if the man rediscovers barely used guns and he resembles a child during Christmas day, opening presents. The sheer joy radiating off of him is more than enough to make Jimin's stomach twist. He feels vomit rise up his throat and he's given no choice but to swallow it down.
His father is still busy scanning his firearms, yet a particular section on his security cameras catches his attention. Placing his gun down gently, he walks over to his desk, watching attentively as some of his men are gunned down by none other than Starling himself. Mister Park shows no sympathy.
"Looks like we have a guest," he points out calmly and approaches Jimin. He twists the boy's seat so he's now facing the door rather than his back being turned to it. "Be sure to greet him properly, please," he asks and he situates himself to the left of the entrance.
Silence fills the room as Mister Park waits patiently for Starling's arrival. Rather than a gun, he holds a knife in his hand and Jimin trembles with fear as he's given no choice but to sit still and watch it all play out. With each passing second, he feels himself reaching the close eruption of his tears and the sound of gunshots echoing just on the other side of the door has his heart thrumming zealously in his ears.
He wiggles incessantly in his seat and he moves his mouth rapidly, feeling like a muzzled dog as he attempts to drop the gag from his mouth. Jimin watches the doorknob as it's gripped and toyed with.
And then it opens.
There Jeongguk stands with a sweat glistening foread. He has blood splattered all over his clothes and his eyes narrow to the teenager sitting helplessly tied up to a chair.
Disgruntled noises erupt from Jimin's body. The stunned look in Jeongguk's eyes is enough to have the teenager's eyes brimming with tears.
But his heart stops as soon as he sees his father advance, and without warning, without so much as a chance to stop it from happening, he watches as the blade sinks into Jeongguk's backside.
Jimin screams in his seat as hot tears stream down his cheeks. The knife is twisted and turned. Shoved deeper. There's absolutely nothing he can do and as Jeongguk's mouth parts, crimson slowly spills from his mouth. His eyes are wide and they never leave Jimin's as he falls harshly to his knees.
Jimin's father smiles victoriously while he watches Starling crumble on the floor. However the man is still breathing and so he saunters over to his guns leisurely, deciding which one he should use to get the job done for good.
The teenager's sad eyes never leave Jeongguk's and he can see how the man is struggling to keep his own open. But it's as if he's fighting against himself. He won't allow them to close as they flutter rapidly.
Another figure then steps into the room and Jimin's shocked to see that it's Agust wielding his Beretta.
"How about fucking this one," he says and then fires it.
Jimin jolts in his spot and hugs his ears with his shoulders. He watches all life depart from his father's eyes and blood seep from the bullet hole right between his brows. He falls to the floor with a loud thud and drops his precious gun along with him.
With ringing ears, his head spins. Eventually every object in the room doubles but he manages to keep his head up.
His father is dead.