Sometime later, I was strolling around the government village with Mr. Jae, a habit we had picked up at some point. More often than not, my mornings in the government headquarters followed a pretty predictable pattern: Namjoon and I would show up together, they would have some sort of superfluous meeting about the goings on in the sector, and then Rho would ask to speak to me privately. I had to put on my serious game face for those conversations with the Chairman. On the surface, I was pretty convinced that he was buying into my act, but I was having a hard time broaching the subject of what I wanted in exchange for being his public relations poster child. Thankfully, that was where Mr. Jae came in. After my meetings with Rho, I’d find Jae waiting for me in the lobby, who would offer to show me some new feature of the little town until either Namjoon found us or Jae had to leave.

Once a particularly useless morning had been spent exchanging idle pleasantries with the Chairman, I yet again found myself pacing the patches of grass between the tall concrete buildings, the normally vibrant green fading into a sickly grey as winter approached. “You know, for being called the Golden Boy, Jungkook and his friends seem to be treated rather poorly,” I was borderline ranting to Jae by that point. I had come to trust the tall, impeccably groomed man. He did an excellent job of empathizing with me while still maintaining his governmental authority. It made sense as to why Rho wanted him to serve as an international diplomat. He was easy to like.

To my surprise, he laughed audibly at my complaint. “Well, when they first were assigned to their compound, they caused a lot of trouble,” he went on to explain as he stood on the cobblestone footpath, watching me fluster about. “Rho decided that the only way to keep them in line was to punish them,” he continued, his voice clearly intending to placate me.

I groaned, frustrated at the unsatisfactory reasoning. “It’s been what, almost three years now? I think their spirits are sufficiently broken. When was the last time they were a problem at all?” I felt my voice growing insistent, ready to argue with a man I had absolutely no business arguing with. It was a good thing, then, that Jae was the type of man to always keep his cool.

“Our final punishment was taking one of the problem children away, but that was before you arrived, of course,” he looked up at the grey sky as he spoke, his dark eyes catching mine as he inspected me. His use of the word ‘children’ rubbed me the wrong way. It was like he viewed the boys as toddlers that just didn’t know any better and just needed a little bit of discipline. That was strange in its own way, considering Mr. Jae was generally the one to treat Namjoon with courtesy and respect.

I met his gaze, perhaps a bit too firmly, but this looked like the only opportunity to voice my opinion on the matter. “So it’s been almost five months since that, right?” I prompted him. It was safer to get him to talk about it than to just ask for what I wanted.

A tight little smile appeared on his face before he began to walk away from the headquarters building, and I made sure to stay at his heels. “They’ve certainly calmed down since you arrived,” he responded quietly, slowly, “Alternatively, taking out the bad apple worked beautifully,” he sounded rather satisfied by his logic.

Glad his back was to me, I rolled my eyes dramatically to myself. If he honestly believed taking Jimin away solved all of the discipline problems, it was going to be even more difficult to convince both Rho and Jae to return him to his friends. Thinking fast, I was quick to counter him, “Well, Chairman Rho was prepared to reward Namjoon for his work, right?”

“Yes,” Jae’s voice was hesitant, making it clear he was unsure of where I was going with the conversation. At least he was willing to listen, even if he wouldn’t look at me.

With a little cough, I picked up my pace to walk at his side, “Well, why not throw them a bone now and then? I know the Chairman wants Jungkook in the public eye, right? He might be more willing to cooperate if he wasn’t cold and hungry all the time.” I tried to sound objective and reasonable, but I felt myself giving in to the urge to sound just a tiny bit desperate.

To my surprise, he laughed at my request, perhaps glad I didn’t ask for what I really wanted, “Well your compound has a water heater, so I suppose installing a radiator isn’t out of the question.” He was clearly being vague on purpose. “But I’m not sure why you’re telling me, and not Rho himself,” I caught him glancing at me out of the corner of his eye as we continued to walk. I noticed that we were walking towards the tree line, meaning he was ready to get rid of me.

“I guess I don’t want to anger him,” I responded honestly, my voice growing quiet as our steps began to slow, “but thank you.” I did appreciate the gesture, even if it was the less pressing of the two issues.

He chuckled again, laying a hand at the small of my back as we approached the cobblestone pathway, the contact surprising and unfamiliar. I tensed in order to keep from flinching out of habit. “You’re smart to respect his power and authority, but I’ll see what I can do about that heater.” His hand applied slight pressure where it rested, giving me a little nudge away from him, “Now go on home, Seoyeon. We’ll see you in a few days.”

Taking the hint, I went on my way, leaving Jae behind as I returned home. As usual, I found the big black dog lurking in the brush, its eyes briefly glancing out at me, their bright sheen the only thing visible in the shadows. Just as quickly, though, the dog’s attention was elsewhere, looking past me. Shrugging to myself, I pressed on, the soft crunching of the dirt under my feet signaling my arrival onto the familiar dirt road. My mind was working on overdrive. I trusted Jae to keep his word about the heater, but he had entirely ignored my hint at the need for more food. However, I had grown bold in my continued success. I had an idea. And that was how I found myself tagging along with Hobie and Taehyung the next day on the way to the warehouse.

Ever since the picnic, Hobie’s demeanor had been uncharacteristically quiet and despondent, as if someone had put a lampshade on the sun. He kept up his smiles and his kindness, but it felt stifled and disingenuous. It only grew worse with the passing season. I often found him outside, dancing quietly to himself, and unlike before, he would never invite me to join him, or even really acknowledge my prying eyes. Even worse was the fact that no one else knew what was going on with him. Even Taehyung nervously shook his head when I had asked about it earlier that morning. He was clearly more worried than I was.

When we arrived at the small encampment where the warehouse stood, Hobie stopped, causing Taehyung and I to follow suit abruptly. “Wait here,” Hobie called over his shoulder, offering me a weak, nervous little smile, “It won’t take long.”

“But Hobie,” Taehyung took a step forward, his low voice laced with anxiety, his overly expressive face giving everything away. He was only met with Hobie’s and on his chest, halting his progress. It was so strange for me to see Hobie like that. He never would stop Taehyung from doing anything under normal circumstances. To see him interrupt like that was concerning.

There was a moment of heavy silence, Taehyung leaning against the outstretched hand, clearly just as taken aback as I was. “Stay with her, TaeTae,” Hobie finally whispered back, and as his smile faded, it suddenly became apparent just how tired he looked. Letting his hand slide down Taehyung’s chest, he took a step backwards before turning on his heel and heading up the walkway to the warehouse door.

With a heavy sigh, Taehyung turned to look at me, his wide set eyes tracing my face as his mouth pressed into a frustrated frown, his cheeks puffed out as he thought hard. “There’s a new manager at the warehouse,” he finally spoke, his deep voice lowered to just above a whisper as he explained, leaning closer to me, though his eyes were still trained on Hobie’s retreating back.

“New manager?” I pressed, unsure what that meant in the context of what was happening.

Taehyung looked at me, his eyebrows raised into his rusty brown hairline, “He’s, uh, not very nice.”

I opened my mouth with the intent of asking for more details when a loud, abrasive voice cut through the chilly morning air, “Where’s your little boyfriend, horse-face?” The words hit me like a brick, my mouth still hanging open. The words I had been prepared to speak were erased from my brain as I processed what I had just heard. So this is what had been getting Hobie down recently. Taehyung looked down at me, his face relaxed into a simple sad expression, those intense, expressive eyes boring into mine. We could hear the murmur of Hobie’s voice, but I couldn’t make out any of the words. However, immediately the response came from the manager, “You’re lucky I give you any food at all! If I had been in charge, I would have let all you Southerners die off ages ago.”

Tearing my eye