Chapter I

No One Can Be Trusted

Jennie isn't the biggest fan of the subway. In fact, it's safe to say she hates it. Even more so at seven o'clock on a Monday morning when half of Seoul seems to have chosen this particular means of public transport.

Today, she has a dubious pleasure of being squeezed between a white-collar creep with greasy hair and ashen cheeks, and a lanky teenager who is reading some manhwa and has been stuck on the same page for at least ten minutes already.

She cannot deny, however, that there are certain advantages to traveling by subway that outweigh all of its inconveniences. Namely, it's fast and easy.

Thrown off balance when the train stops, Jennie bumps into the white-collar guy.

“I'm sorry,” she says, smoothing his suit, while looking into his flustered eyes. “I'm really, deeply, sorry.” She squeezes his palm then rushes out of the train, just as its doors are about to close.

Once the train leaves the station, she takes out a thick wallet and a golden watch out of the pocket of her leather jacket. Smirking in triumph, she makes her way to the exit through the busy throng.

Fast and easy.

* * *

“Sorry, that's all I can offer.” Seulgi gives her an apologetic smile as she places the watch back on the counter.

Jennie squeezes the bridge of her nose, her jaw shifting in barely contained anger.

The watch is a cheap imitation, worth barely sixty thousand won. And the wallet is filled with nothing but condoms.

“. I can't believe I felt some creep for that,” she mutters under her breath.

She isn't superstitious, but right now, she truly believes that someone has placed a curse upon her.

Two weeks ago, she robbed a guy who turned out to be dying of cancer, according to the documents she'd found in his suitcase. Nagged by pangs of consciousness, she left the stolen goods on his porch four days later.

Almost the same story repeated a week later when she stole money that turned out to be a gift to an animal shelter. She then personally delivered the money and spent some quality time with the doggies.

And just yesterday, her loot consisted of an expired credit card and a few banknotes of some foreign currency. It was enough to buy her a bag of instant ramyun.

By now, she began to wonder that maybe, for once, she should take up some legal job and start living as an upstanding citizen, since her luck has clearly abandoned her.

She scoffs at the thought.

What if she wasn't lucky to begin with? What if it was Jisoo and Rose who were the lucky ones? And she was just lucky to have them.

“Why don't you focus on forging documents? Wasn't that your specialty in the first place?” Seulgi suggests, looking at her through the bottom of the glass.

Jennie shakes her head. “I only did that for the girls. I have no intention of helping some mafia goons smuggle people across the border to fuel their human trafficking business. ”

“Fair enough.” Seulgi smiles, her eyes two soft crescents atop chubby cheeks. “You know what? How about I offer you some drinks on the house to help you wash away that feeling of humiliation, hm?” the bartender says and pours Jennie a glass of whiskey, not the cheap kind.

Jennie appreciates the sentiment and downs the smoky liquor in one go.

The raven haired bartender chuckles at her wry face. “Better?”

Jennie nods. “One more,” she rasps.

Seulgi is quick to grant her wish.

* * *

Jisoo has always claimed that Jennie was a sad drunk. But Jennie would always argue it wasn't the case. She wasn't sad, just pensive. Regardless, neither Jisoo nor Rose liked to drink with her. But if they were here now, Jennie knows she would be a happy drunk. The happiest, even.

“Have you heard from them?” Seulgi asks, feigning flippancy as she polishes the wine glasses.

But even in her tipsy state, Jennie knows the bartender cares more than she would like to admit. She has been their fence for years, and somewhere along the way, has also become their close friend and a confidant.

“No,” Jennie answers as she stares into the bottom of her empty glass.

, she misses them. And it doesn't help that she remembers every moment spend with them in excruciating detail.

Their endless bickering over the best methods to open a safe, or which place they should rob next. Rose's constant complaints regarding Jisoo's recklessness, and Jisoo's jealousy over Rose's flirtatious behavior towards their targets. Sure, it was annoying as hell, and being the permanent third-wheel wasn't the most pleasant experience.

(They had a habit of resolving their conflicts through angry make-up , and Jennie's room wasn't exactly soundproof. Jisoo had even begun to call her Panda. She hated that nickname.)

But they were her family. The only one she got and the only one she ever needed.

They shuffled them between countless foster homes, but they would always run back to the orphanage. To each other. They were the only ones who never judged her, never called her a weirdo, and always had her backs. She trusted them, and in the world where being stabbed in your back was a common occurrence, that sole fact meant everything to Jennie.

Until one faithful day when everything fell apart. Like a house of cards under one careless breath. In the stupidest way.

A year has already passed, but Jennie still couldn't comprehend it. Jisoo hated drinking with her. Then why that day was different?

“You look sad,” an unfamiliar voice states from the seat next to her.

Through woozy eyes, Jennie stares at a girl who sports a cheeky grin and hair in the color of ocean waves. That last part catches Jennie off guard, and she briefly wonders whether the odd color is a figment of her tipsy vision.

“I would buy you drink but looks you had enough.” The girl slides her chair a little closer to Jennie's.

The slightly awkward Korean and heavy accent suggest she's a foreigner, which is even stranger. Only local