[A/N: Hi, everyone! Thanks so much for reading, taking the poll, and subscribing, it makes me so happy to know that people are enjoying this. Also, thank you for waiting for this newest part, I just finsihed exams at school and now there will be much more time to write, yaaaay! It seems Yoongi's is the first route I'll be releasing, I happened to be insfired regarding his storyline and he also happened to be popular in the poll. If you're really hoping for another member, don't worry, i'll be systematically going through all of them. Just as a note, the members of BigBang will largely be antagonists in this fic, but I have no beef with them or the fandom, I'm a VIP as well as an ARMY <3 If you have any feedback, feel free to let me know. Also, take the poll at the bottom if you've got some time. Much love to all of you and I hope your summers are wonderful :) --Jaden]

BANG.

The gunshot rings in your ears.

Hot tears slide down your cheeks.

Your eyes squeeze shut.

You wait for the impact of that round to shatter your skull, but there’s nothing. Only silence. You briefly wonder if it has already happened and this is what death feels like, like nothing.

Slowly, slowly, you open your eyes. The figures around you are frozen like wax dolls, their faces contorted in shock. You scan the scene around you, but don’t process any of it.

The Leader is in front of you, his gun raised. But it’s no longer pointed at you. You turn your eyes and see a bullet hole in the wall no more than six inches from your head. For the first time in what seems like an eternity, you let out a shaky breath. Sink to your knees.

“Yoongi.”

You force yourself to raise your head at the sound of the Leader’s voice, and that’s when it hits you. There’s Suga, unmoving, with his hand on the gun. He looks as surprised as everyone else, but there’s no mistaking it—he just saved your life. He gulps. He parts his lips and you expect him to speak, but no sound escapes them.

“What are you doing, Yoongi?”

There’s less venom in that voice than you anticipated. But instead of answering his boss, Suga firmly grasps the gun, looks straight into your eyes, and empties the remaining five rounds into the floor.

This snaps everyone out of their stupor. Taehyung lunges for you, presumably to help you escape, but Jimin pulls you up from the floor to restrain you, and Jin and Jungkook hold your old friend back without a word. He flails, roaring like a caged beast, and J-Hope pulls his own gun from his belt, taking aim at your chest with a frostbite-inducing expression you never thought his face was capable of. He it, prompting more wailing from Taehyung.

“Enough.”

It only takes one word. Everyone stops, even Taehyung, and silence ensues.

“You two, get V out of here, now. Hobi, Jimin, you, too. I need a word with Yoongi.”

Jin and Jungkook march a deflated Taehyung out first, and J-Hope files out behind them, humming a cheerful tune like he’s leaving a picnic rather than the scene of an almost-murder. Jimin nudges you toward his boss, does a small bow, and makes himself scarce. Now it’s just you, the Leader, and Suga, still holding the gun, staring at the holes he just put in the floorboards.

“Explain yourself. Now.”

Suga gently sets the gun on the table. His disinterested expression has returned. “There’s nothing to explain.”

“Don’t give me that ,” the Leader growls. “Why did you stop me?”

“No reason, really.”

“And my floor?”

“You’d have destroyed it yourself eventually.” Suga mutters, and you wonder how he can throw an insult at the God of Destruction so carelessly and escape with his life.

The Leader smirks. “It’s not like you, Yoongi. Why protect this girl?”

You find yourself gazing at the man who saved your life, wanting to know the answer to that question just as much as your almost-killer. “She… seems like she might be useful.”

“Useful, huh.” The Leader frowns. He circles you pensively, and you can’t help but feel like a seal in shark-infested waters. “She’s certainly interesting. But useful? What gave you that impression?”

“Just a gut feeling. Are we done, Namjoon?” Suga yawns, and your jaw drops. A gut feeling? You’re still standing here because of something so arbitrary? Of course, you’re not out of the woods yet.

“How do you intend to pay me back then, Yoongi?”

“Dunno. There must be a decent carpenter somewhere in Seoul—” 

“This isn’t about the goddamn floor, I mean for her life.” You can’t help but tremble at his words as he continues, “I would bet my own life on your instincts, but even I’m not that charitable. Let’s negotiate. It could be… the value of your next bounty? How does that sound?” Suga winces, and Namjoon chuckles dryly. “I see. Well if that’s too steep a price,” he reaches into his jacket and pulls out a tiny silver pistol. It almost looks like a toy, but you know better, “how about a game?”

Namjoon presses the gun into Suga’s hand, then wraps an arm around your shoulder. A chill runs down your spine at his touch. “This gun’s chamber holds three rounds, but there’s only one bullet left. The odds aren’t too bad, right? If you’re willing to pull the trigger, you’re both free to go. Well?”

For a moment, Suga hesitates, his gaze flicks back to you. There must be a million things going on in his head, a million considerations. But his poker face is unbeatable, you can’t decipher anything he’s feeling. Fresh tears stream down your face, but you wipe them away bitterly. If I want to get out of here alive, I can’t show weakness. Even if he had an ulterior motive, Suga put himself on the line for me. If I die here, that’s all for nothing.

You sniffle once, then show a small smile. Decisively, you reach out a hand to Suga’s, the one holding the gun. You gently raise it to your own head, then let your arm drop.

Namjoon lets out a low whistle as he steps back, “The girl’s got balls.”

Suga nods slightly. it. You silently pray this won’t be the last noise you hear.

You take a deep breath.

So does Suga.

Click.

Suga immediately shoves the gun back at Namjoon, and before you have time to realize that the chamber was empty, he urges you toward the door. “We’re done here, you sadistic ,” he snaps.

“Well-played. I won’t stop you, I am a benevolent leader, after all.” Namjoon raises the gun to the sky with a wicked glint in his eyes and fires.

It’s a blank.

You audibly gasp. He’s ing nuts! You rage internally, willing your legs to remain steady. Suga doesn’t even react as he wrenches the door open, and you scramble to follow him into the outer room.

It’s still bustling, as if what just happened doesn’t shock anyone. Really, you’d wager more people are surprised to see you alive than anything else. Ignoring the stairs, you fight through the crowd to keep up with Suga.

In the hallways, it’s creepily deserted. You briefly wonder where the rest of your captors went. If Taehyung will be punished because of you. What your future holds, now that you’re tangled up in all of this. You want to speak to your unlikely ally, but he’s emitting an aura so icy you don’t dare. All that reaches your ears is the tapping of your footsteps and the overwhelming pounding of your heart.

He doesn’t stop speed-walking until you reach the staircase leading to the entrance, and when he does, you can no longer bear the silence. You blurt the first thing that comes to mind, “Did you know it was a blank?”

You know immediately that was the wrong question. Suga advances, backing you up against the wall and staring into your soul with those deep, terrifying eyes of his. “Are you a ing idiot? Do you have no sense of self-preservation?” He spits.

You gulp, steeling your resolve. “You did, right?”

“I had my suspicions. But there was no way to be sure with Namjoon. You could have died. Do you understand the gravity of that? What possessed you to be so reckless with your own life?”

“You’re naturally a worrier, aren’t you?” before you can stop yourself, you’ve said what came to mind, even though it’s absurd.

“You ing brat,” Suga turns away and rubs his temples. “What in the holy hell are you sputtering about?” His words are harsh, but his demeanor has gone from ‘legitimately deadly’ to ‘disgruntled old man’, which makes you want to laugh, for some reason.

“What now?” You wonder aloud.

“Not my problem. Get outta here, if you know what’s good for you.” He gestures to the stairs.

“I’m not… off the hook, am I?”

Suga rolls his eyes. “I wouldn’t count on it. Namjoon spared your life because you passed his test, he’ll keep his word. But you still need to make that worth his while.”

You take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I figured.”

“Not that I give a steaming , but what’ll you do?” Suga folds his arms and leans against the wall next to you. Your eyes find the bandage on his left forearm and you wonder how he’s taking a stab wound as if it were a paper cut. When he gives you a weird look, you snap out of your reverie.

“I have to track down my dad and kick his , for one,” you declare, clenching your fist so hard your nails dig into your palms. Your fear has diminished somewhat, so now it’s all anger. “That bastard just used me and left me to die. I’ll find him.”

“Without shoes?” You look down and realize you left your stilettos in the room with the crazy gang boss and your stomach drops. “Stay here.”

He slips away for a bit, then returns with a pair of sneakers. They’re a bit big and plenty worn out, but you feel so grateful you could cry as you take them. You bow ninety degrees. “Thank you, Yoongi.” You breathe.

"Aish, they’re only shoes. And that’s Suga to you, brat. You wanna die?”

~~

Bomi was hysterical when you showed up at her door. She bawled for at least an hour at the sight of you, alive and (relatively) well, and apologized until her voice was hoarse. You cried with her and let her comb through your hair with her fingers to ease your lingering fear. She let you take a shower, borrow some clothes, and retrieve your phone and purse that you left behind at the bar, and pleaded for you to stay the night at her place. But you refused. Even though you knew she had to have been set up or blackmailed, you weren’t quite ready to forgive her yet. You needed some time to think alone.

But you did let her drive you to your father’s place, and when you open the suspiciously unlocked door, you discover it’s absolutely trashed. Everything of value has been taken, and what’s left looks like the aftermath of a natural disaster.

You start combing through scattered documents, looking for any clues the ransackers may have missed, but your eyes betray you. Looking at the mess worsens your already mounting exhaustion, and you gather all the bedding you can find in the house, make your way to your father’s disheveled bed, and curl up in a nest of blankets. Even after everything that happened today, you’re out within seconds.

~~

You spend the next morning meticulously searching the wreckage with little success. Your father has changed all his passwords, which you previously knew, and his phone has been disconnected. Annoyed, you call your brother for the hundredth time. Still no response.

Hoping to boost your morale, you drop by a sandwich place within walking distance of your father’s house. You’re heading down a side street with your sub when—

 "Yo, don’t I know you?”

You turn to see a group of four guys, probably mid-20s, that are obviously trouble. You try not to associate yourself with gangs, but you damn well know a VIP when you see one. They’re more obvious than Bangtan’s members, who could easily blend in with a crowd of businesspeople with colds, and always sport brightly colored hair (recently powder-blue has taken the gang by storm) and a few tattoos. Of course there is nothing wrong with expressing oneself through fashion, but the rumor is that these guys worship their leaders on every level, and imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. The authorities are dying to know if that rumor is true, because though BigBang’s grunts can be rather conspicuous, their leaders are virtually invisible.

“No,” you say curtly, brushing past them.

“You sure, little sis?” A hand clamps on your wrist and you immediately wrench it free. You will not have this . Upon whirling around, you meet the eyes of a tall, lanky guy with blue dreads. He bows in mock apology. “If you’ll pardon my rudeness, you look like someone I know very well.”

“Got an older brother?” Another man with one side of his blue hair closely cropped and the other side brushing his collarbone chimes in. Surprisingly, his face does look vaguely familiar, though the hair vastly changed his aesthetic. You break into a cold sweat.

“No, please leave me alone.” You deadpan.

“Hey, we’re not trying to be weird.” Blue Dreads leans in close and you can smell tuna on his breath. “Don’t you wanna know where your darling oppa went off to?”

“I don’t have a brother.” Your eyes bore into his while your hands fish in your bag for your mace.

“Is that really true, Miss [f/n]?” You’re speechless, torn between indulging them to potentially chase after your brother and macing them so you can get the hell outta there. “In my opinion, you’d be valuable leverage. What do you think?” Mace, definitely mace.

“What is this, an interrogation?”

A low voice breaks the silence, one you’re pretty sure you recognize. Past the VIPs stands a man dressed in a black hoodie and jeans, his mouth and nose obscured by a black mask. But you’d recognize that blond hair anywhere.

“If it’s an open forum, I have some questions for you baskets.”

“Hey, who—?” Before Dreads can finish his thought, Suga lands a solid punch to the side of his head and he crumples like paper mache.

“Oops, that one was more of an exclamation.” The others grunt angrily and come at him swinging, but they’re no match for Suga. Even though he’s relatively short, he’s agile and efficient, aiming for weak spots and knocking two of the three remaining goons out cold. The third, the guy whose face is familiar, he kicks hard in the stomach, leaps behind him and slips him into a headlock.

“Where is G-Dragon?” He snarls.

“As if I’d tell you, er.” The man rasps. Suga tightens his hold and the man coughs.

“I know he doesn’t associate with -eating worms like you, but you must have some idea where I can find him.”

The man’s eyes are watery, his nose begins to run. “Let me go, I don’t know where he is. I’m a new initiate.”

“I don’t believe you.” Suga’s grip tightens more and the man grunts.

“[F/n]… Help…”

You take a step back, in shock, and Suga finally lets him go. He sinks to the ground. Suga doesn’t waste any time before approaching you. “Why did he know your name?” His words are sharp.

“Why are you here?” You counter.

“Business,” he replies bluntly. “Are you involved with BigBang?”

“No.”

“And your older brother?”

You wince. “I… don’t know. I haven’t heard from him in over a year. He could be anywhere.”

“Including the hangout of a high-profile gang leader.” Suga muses.

Says the man who associates with a different high-profile gang leader! “I doubt it. Thanks for taking care of those creeps, didn’t wanna waste mace. Bye, now.”

“Hold it, brat.” You instinctively stop walking at his commanding tone. “Come with me. Even if you’re telling the truth and you’re not directly involved with the VIPs, you’re a target. Your life could be at risk.”

“It’s already at risk.” You snap. No way you’re following that guy. So what if he was kind to you? Saved your life? So what that you find yourself strangely drawn to him in numerous ways? He also could have gotten you killed. He said it himself, you should care about your self-preservation. You resume walking.

“Wait. I can help you pay off your debt to Bangtan."

Now there's an offer you can't refuse.