The abandoned warehouse was silent except for the sound of the steady dripping of water. In contrast to its state of decline, the place was well-lit from the natural sunlight that penetrates from the silent, huge window on its left side. The peace and silence was not to be maintained long. A loud screech interrupted the quietness of the old storage. Outside, an antique, 1962 Chevrolet Convertible parked itself right by the entrance.

  Three suited figures stepped into the empty venue. The tallest whistled once loudly, as if he is making sure that they are indeed the only ones present, before breaking into a smirk, pleased that they are early. The youngest looking one, who had his hair bleached platinium, simply glanced around the surrounding lazily, silently longing that today's job would be without complications so he could go back and look up for that Matilda or Maria or whatever her name is that he met at the bar last night. In between them, the third man treaded into the warehouse worldlessly, his fingers fumbling with his in-ear before he finally manages to install it into his left ear.
 

DS: Ho, look who's online.

  
  The third man sweared in a low voice, jumping at the deafening volume in his ear. Instinctively, he ripped the device out of himself, glaring at it, before putting them back into his ear.

SR: Looks like this hyung isnt't used to this technology.

  The third man flashed the source of the voice a sidewards glare. The youngest looking one laughed cheekily.

JY: You're right beside me, maknae.

SR: That just means that you've have to hear me both through the in ear and right beside you, hyung. 

JY: Daesung, you settled?

DS: Yep. Your 7 O'clock direction. Sniper's ready. Good with blasting out the heads of those russians if they try anything funny.

JY: Youngbae?

YB: C'mon, Jiyong, we've been doing this for years. The car's right outside, ready to pick the goods up once you guys are done.

SH: Are you sure you don't want me to bring a couple of knifes to chuck? I'm not very confident of our sniper's-

  The oldest one had barely finished his taunting when a small snarl was heard through the line and a bullet soared straight through the opening of the warehouse, chipping the floor just milimetres away from the oldest, Seunghyun's, well polished leather shoes. The youngest of the pack, Seungri, snorted with laughter at the sniper's outburst while their leader, the third man Jiyong, merely smirked in amusement. The driver, who barely looked up from the revolver he has been loading and reloading in the driver's seat out of boredom, asked coyly after hearing the small gun shot from Daesung's end of the line.

YB: What, did he finally shot Seunghyun Hyung?

SH: Almost. But he missed again.

DS: Should I try again?

YB: Head in the game, someone's coming.

  Upon that the youngest straightened up while his older counterparts turned around. Another three figures stepped through the warehouse entrance to join their presence. The one in the middle was slightly aged, dressed in a pair of brown tinted sunglasses, a white suit jacket with a low collar embroided silk shirt and a pair of salmon colored italian-made oxford shoes. The guys beside him seemed more toned down in comparison, donning only simple black suits. On one of the guy's hand held a small, silver suitcase; The good that they are here to pick up today. 

  "Zdravstvuyte, my friend!" The white russian greeted, grinning as he plucked his shades away from his nose.

  "He says hello." Seungri translated quickly in a quiet voice.

  Jiyong smiled back as he took the Russian's outstretched hands. Seunghyun contemplates the two burly, stoney faced guys beside the main Russian with amusement. He wonders what ranks do they hold in their own organisation. Nah, surely they are just bodyguards at the most, by the look of it.

  "Have you brought the stuff?" Jiyong nodded.

  "He did." Seungri conveyed their associate's russian reply.

YB: Check it.

  "Don't mind if we take a look at the goods before-" Seungri said polietly in Russian before his capo cut him off.

  "That won't be necessary, we trust that you won't cheat us. Besides, surely you know that our Yazuka friends are looking into a Russia advancement, don't you?" The young Caporegime mused, his eyes never leaving their Russian partner.

  "Wow hyung, do you seriously want me to translate that?" Seungri asked, looking impressed. His leader eyed him warningly, and he quickly brought the message across.

  The Russian's face visibly pale at Seungri's translation on the mention of the Japanese Yazukas. "Ofcourse, we would never betray a friend's trust." He answered quickly with a pressed smile, which was recipocated on the Korean's side.

  "Then I believe we have a partnership." The Capo mused and shook the Russian's hand for a final time before parting.

  
  "That was quick." Seungri grinned.

SH: Sniper, you have two minutes to dismantle and get down here or we're leaving.

   The Capo listened to his team's conversation in amusement, shifting the metal suitcase that now belongs to their Family from hand to hand.

   10 Kilograms of Heroin. 

  As they emerged into the sunlight where the Russians had left seconds ago, the same black Chevrolet swerved into place, leaving tire marks on the concrete floor.

  "Show off." Jiyong mocked, taking the piece of gum that the youngest one is holding out to him before climbing into the vintage sedan.

  "Are things always going to go this successful for us? My wife's getting rusty." Daesung said as soon as he got into the back of the car where his gang was already waiting, letting out a sigh as he patted his innocent looking musical instrument case which held his deadly accurate sniper.

  "Possibly." Seunghyun answered smugly as Jiyong stared lazily out of the window. "We are the dream team afterall."

[DARA PARK]

  I gulped nervously as Bom stared down at my feet and then up to my face again, repeating this trail of sight for a few time. Okay, my hands are starting to get that tingly, clammy sensation. 

  This is not good..... Bom's face is slowly turning a shade of beetroot. Wait for it...

  "Dara..." She began.

  Oh no

  "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Bom exploded just as I spun around promptly. Nope, maybe this isn't the job for me. My hand has barely reached the handle of the boutique's exit when I was yanked back by the back of my collar. YELP!

  "Nobody.wears.heels.with.socks, Dara. Nobody." Bom hissed, clamping her hand on her forehead. 

  "These machines you bought, they're going to shred my feet. There's no way I'm going in there barefeet." I whispered back between my teeth. At least I wore matching black socks with the balck heels.

  Someone chuckled lightly and we both turned around to see a lady walking towards us. Bom bowed a little and unsure of who she is, I followed suit.

  "You must be Dara. Bom had strongly recommended you." The lady smiled pleasantly.

  "My judgement must've failed me." Bom answered with a straight face and I nudged her shoulder. 

  The lady, with her hair pulled back neatly into a low bun, merely laughed softly at Bom's statement. She seems nice, giving off calm, warm feeling. Sort of motherly. 

  "I'm the manager here, you can call me Julie. I'm seldom around because there's a ton of work waiting for me at the HQ, so this place is usually looked after by Bom." Julie introduced. Wait a minute, this place is usually run by Bom? 

  "So Bom is the in-charge here?" I asked, looking horrified. She didn't tell me about that this job would need her to be my direct superior! I glanced over to Bom who was eyeing me with a playful, smug look on her face. GAHH, welcome to the summer job of HELL.

  "I guess you're serious about quitting the hospital?" Bom asked in the pantry after a tedious 3 hours of me sorting through suit of different shades of black and grey. 

  "For now." I sighed, glancing around at this new environment I'm in.

  It's not bad at all to be working in a place where not much brain work is needed. In the hospital, any wrong move could cause someone to end up dead. But here in the boutique where I'm surrounded by nothing but clothes and shoes, how wrong can things possibly go? There's so much less responsibilities, the way I like it to be.

  "Told you you should've studied much more casually like I did." Bom grinned, pushing up my glasses for me. "What are you going to do with that pile of qualifications?" 

  I chortled.

  "Alright look, I'll be out for the afternoon. There'll be a client coming over to pick up his order later on. I have it placed at the top of the cabinets, just look for the box labelled 37." Bom said, downing her cup of coffee in a single draw. "Oh, and remember to collect three hundred bucks from him!"

  "Yep." I chirped. Sighs, an afternoon alone in the store on my first day of work. 

  I crossed her legs and stretched her arms as the clock on the wall ticked 5. There's no soul in sight at all and I've done all the mixed errands that's needed to be done in the store. I'm honestly about to die from the boredom and the blazing sun shining through the glass panes of windows isn't helping at all.

  Yawning, I fiddled with the sleek black namecards on the counter. There's Bom's, there's Julie's which is slightly more matte than Bom's glossy one, and then there's mine, which were dyed bright yellow.

  I grinned sleepily at my card. How pretty. Below my name was my number written in a cute, cursive font before the words "SALES ASSISTANT". What's with all the black in theirs? A namecard should be brightly colored to radiate positivity!

  The bells at the doors tinkled as they were pushed open. A pair of Christian Louboutin basketball sneakers stepped into the marble flooring of the shop and I sat up, straightening the crooked bow on my blouse. A young man entered along with another two of his acquaintances. 

  "Good evening." I greeted. They raised a brow. Hmm, probably old customers that's surprised to see a new face.

  "I'm here for my shoes. Heard it arrived early." The one with the Louboutin kicks said. I glanced up at him. Whoa, he is pretty hot, with his hair pulled back in a comb-up and dressed in a pair of faded jeans. He has those pretty features that makes people think of a skateboarder at first glance. His friends at the back, who are fiddling with the accessories on display, weren't that bad either. One even have his hair bleached white. Stylish. Just the type Bom would like. Hehe, who thought this job involves the appreciation of fine art. 

  Oh right, his shoes. Must be the number 37.

  I got off from the high chair behind the counter and went into the storeroom. I can feel their eyes trailing after my feet and one of them supressing a laugh. Kya, the embarrassment. Maybe I should've just let my feet get shredded if I knew what kind of handsome customers the boutique has. GAHH.

  I remerged a while later with the box that was scribbled with 37 in Bom's handwriting. The cute guy was drumming his fingers on the counter. His friends goofed around.

  "That would be three hundred." I said pleasantly, handing the box over.

  The cute guy tilted his chin as his forehead creased.

  "I paid when I ordered." He said simply.

  No way, Bom had clearly told me to get three hundred bucks.

  "You must be mistaken-" I opened my mouth again but he cut me across.

  "You think I'm trying to get away without paying?" He asked in a slightly amused tone, as if the entire situation is new to him as he folded his arms across his chest. Behind him, his friends had stopped playing around and watched on with an interested face.

  Well- I certainly haven't, but to think about it now, it does kinda looks like it. I eyed him skeptically and he obnoxiously tilted his chin a little. 

  "I'm sorry but you'll have to pay before you can-" I tried again, this time trying a firmer tone. The guy laughed and handed the box to one of his minions. 

  "Or what?" He smirked, pushing his face close to mine suddenly, making me recoil in surprise as he towered over me. But instead, he just reached out to take one of my yellow cards between his fingers before glancing down at it. "Park Dara... You're new in town aren't you?" 

  White hair guy snorted with laughter. "There actually exists someone who doesn't know you, hyung."

  Okay, maybe they're not that attractive after all.

  "See you around." The comb up laughed before turning around.

  "HEY-" I shouted as the doors closed behind them. Did they really just left with a free box of shoes???

  I watched as the trio get into an imported black sedan, their laughters echoing as they drove off. I looked up hopefully at the camera in the store. I'll ask Bom when she's back. Its never too late to make a report with the evidence from the tape anyway. 

[-]

  The doors tinkled again when it was already dark outside, followed by a dramatic call.

  "I'm back baby chick~"

  Dara peeked out from behind the store and immediately abandoned the boxes that she was arranging. 

  "You'll never guess what happened!" Dara said urgently, rushing out, tap dancing across the sea of boxes.

  "What?" Bom cocked her eyebrows at her best friend as she set her bag down on the counter top. 

  "The client for box 37 refused to pay!" Dara exclaimed. 

  Bom looked confused for a moment. "HUH?"

  "Unbelieveable, right? He just took it, or I should say they just took it and they said they paid when they ordered and they laughed and-"

  "No wait, Dara calm down." Bom cut her off, staring at her like she's crazy. "The client for 37 called me up and told me he can't make the collection today. Who did you pass the box to?"

  Dara gaped at Bom. before she hurriedly vomited out the entire story in the afternoon.

  By the time she started on the black car, Bom had turned a pale shade of green. 

  "Did you say he has his hair gelled up, and he has a sidekick with blonde hair, and he paid upon ordering his shoes?" Bom whispered.

  Dara nodded, which made Bom gasp.

  "God Dara, I really want to punch you now." Bom said, biting on her nails worriedly. "Do you have any idea who that was?"

  "Enlighten me." Dara squeaked nervously at the sight of Bom looking troubled. It can't be that bad can it? What if he's the son of some powerful politician? Or a local police officer?

  Bom leaned in. "That was the Dragon, the Caporegime of the Seoul Mafia Family!"

  THE MAFIA????

  "Hahaha... What's a Caporegime...?" Dara swallow a uneasy chuckle. 

  "A captain! He leads a team of Untouchables! Which means that any one that messes with them will suffer retribution from the Mafia. It's an unspoken rule here in Itaewon to not cross them off." Bom groaned. "Oh no, Dara, would you like your casket to be yellow?"

  "Yes please." Dara answered hollowly. What had she done in the afternoon! No wonder they knew she was new here!

  At that moment, her phone beeped and lit up. Feeling hopeless, Dara took it up to see a single message sent from an unknown number.

Socks-with-stilettos salesgirl,

  Those shoes aren't mine. Bring the right pair to the the Hardrock bar. Hope you haven't called the cops. My friends don't need to bail me out on a Saturday night. 

  Dara's jaws dropped. 

  Oh no. He's sarcastic. How did he know her number? Is his gang that powerful? Do they control the telecommunication company??

  Right, he took her name card.

  Dara glanced up slowly at her bestfriend, who had dipped her nose in to read her message, and she returned her a small shake of her head before patting her on her shoulder, the kind of look that doctors in the hospital have when they are pretty sure that a patient's situation is unsalvageable. 

  Bom disappeared into the depths of the boxes before reappearing with the right box of shoes.

  "You're on your own now, mate." Bom said. 

Jajaang!

Chapter 1!

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