Hana

          I curl into a tighter ball beneath the covers, cursing at the fact that I had forgotten to turn on the heat. I had passed out as soon as I hit the bed, both physically and emotionally exhausted, and hadn’t bothered to take care of myself at all.

         
          The gentle knock on the door makes me bolt up, and I curse when I looked at the time.

          11:24 A.M.

          “Come in!” I yell, voice hoarse and rough as I wrap the blankets around me, covering my bare legs and shoulders. Namjoon slides into the room and my face instantly hardens as I remember his accusations.

          Liability. Loyalty. Logic.

          He sighs, sitting down on the corner of the bed as my eyes flash. “I was out of line.”

          “You were,” I agree with a snap. My nerves are already on edge. “And I decided that I’ll go rogue to help Chanyeol if I need to.”

          “No need.” Namjoon holds up a hand. “I’ll trust your discretion.” He sighs, rubbing his forehead, “Just…tell us, okay? Don’t do this blind.”

          I blink back, slightly surprised. “Okay.”

          “I’m sorry,” Namjoon dips his head, probably not used to apologizing. “I really am.” I can tell he’s sincere when his eyes meet mine. He usually isn’t open or emotional, but I knew he cared. “You are more than capable, you’re essential.”

          Namjoon was always good at breaking things. He wasn’t as good at putting them back together.

          “But,” He continues slowly with a swallow. “Jungkook might take some more time to cool off.”

          Just hearing his name makes the anger in my stomach flare up again. I was not a doormat for him to walk all over. I was not in a real relationship with him. I would respect his opinions, but I would never carry out his commands. We were equal, and I’d beat that into his head.

          Namjoon instantly backpedals, realizing that he made a mistake by bringing up Jungkook and his rather personal attacks. “We’ll talk later, alright?” He practically flees out the door and I force myself to breathe. There was no use getting angry right after I woke up.

          My fingers find Chanyeol’s leather book on my bedside table, and I flip it open to the first entry, smiling at his familiar scrawl.

          December 1st
          I started writing in this because I’m finding out information that is both important and random. I can’t put it together. The Busan shooting was a month ago, and occurred in a warehouse. It points to mafia dealings and not something tied to Min Industries, Jung Corporation, Kim Pharmaceuticals, and Kim Energies.
          But I doubt that the shooting would occur around the same time of the funding group failure. Hana said she and her friends didn’t make it happen, but who would make an attack like that on the Min Empire without lots of backup, money, and influence? It doesn’t tie together.
          Chanyeol

          If anything, his writing was him trying to reason out the situation. His first entry was everything I already knew, which was to be expected because it was the day before that he had come and reported to me.

          I groan, looking at the date. I had completely lost track of the calendar and had forgotten about Jin’s birthday on the fourth. Even if we weren’t friends anymore, I had meant to send him something, especially because he was back in Korea.

          Jin didn’t really like late presents either.

          And the Christmas Ball was coming up too.

          I fling myself backwards on to the bed, wanting to throw a fit. Of course. Just my luck. And my fiancé would have to be my date.

          I wouldn’t even be surprised if people didn’t try to bring it up at the Christmas ball, talking about how it was unexpected and unpredictable. Jungkook and I would be forced to stick to each other as glue.

          I slip on a sweater and pad out of the room, hair mussed and eyes unfocused. I yawn, yanking open the fridge door and looking at the empty racks.

          Great. I had no food either.

          Jimin barely ever had food. Namjoon probably already ate all of his leftovers. And I didn’t want to raid Jungkook’s kitchen when I was still mad at him.

          My stomach growls in disagreement. The oh-so-scary Byun Hana had to go do groceries.

Suga

          Why did I have to be the one to run to get supplies for tonight? I yawn, grumpy that I had been forced to get out of bed.

          Jin’s birthday was a few days ago, and we had been waiting until the weekend to celebrate, mostly because we usually had no time to do anything other than business during the main part of the week.

          But that meant that I had to ruin my weekend tradition of sitting in bed until past noon.

          I pull into the grocery store parking lot and head into the store swarming with mothers and families and I grumble to myself. All of the carts are gone, so I’m forced to lug around that annoying basket that ends up hitting me in the leg.

          I throw in a couple bottles of alcohol along with the decorations that Hoseok swore we needed—even if they looked dumb. I meander along the aisles, looking for something that I could have missed.

          A young woman is trying to reach the top shelf of cereal, but she kept failing since the cereal was pushed back. I put the basket down, reaching over her head, and grab the box.

          And then I look down and come face-to-face with Byun.

          Her eyes are wide open as she looks back at me, eyes wide and face morphing into shock.