Youngjae and the crowd of masks arrived in Roppongi in practically no time at all. The singer, who had a terrible case of nerves that whole day, was up for his next challenge: getting to the address. Surprisingly enough, the group dispersed and he was back to square one with the man who fetched him from the bathroom earlier. Just like before, he gestured him to his way. Youngjae nodded. He stopped questioning whether or not his disguise was foolproof and followed the man through the vacant lanes of the district.

               A variety of shops passed them until they soon arrived at a short street with several establishments. With signs in flickering neon lights and pale windows tinted on every building, it definitely seemed like a shadier side of town. The mask briskly turned to Youngjae and tapped his left palm with his right index finger.

               “Paper,” he simply said. It took Youngjae quite a while to figure out what he meant.

               “Oh!” He took out the crumpled address from the depths of his coat pocket and held it up for confirmation. The mask gave him the approval with a thumbs up and just like that went back to walking onward. Youngjae lifted a questioning hand at him but drew it back once the tall silhouette vanished into another lane. Disoriented and alone once again, Youngjae unfolded the note and read the address for the umpteenth time. Nothing in his surroundings helped him. No matter where he looked, what signs he read, he couldn’t figure out where to go. Minutes passed and he was getting nowhere. Frustrated, he took off the disgusting coat and the white mask and slammed them both the ground. Hearing the items hit the pavement was more satisfying than it should have been. It was out of character, but the hopeless situation deemed it appropriate.

               When he lifted up his head, he suddenly saw it. In front of him, was the building he was looking for, right under his nose. And while he should have been ecstatic to have met another checkpoint in his mission, his reaction was much the exact opposite.

               Oh hell no.
                Hell no.

               In front of him was none other than a strip bar. It had large mahogany wooden doors and one screen on both sides playing a rather suggestive clip of a woman figure on repeat. The gaudy sign above him said “Zeus”.Youngjae did a double take on the address. There was no denying it was the location the mask was going to. Youngjae gulped, now fearful of what he had to face. But something even more immediate came up.

               I’m not even legal yet, how the hell am I gonna get inside? His struggle of thoughts continued on and on until he was sure he turned into a statue in the street.

               Just when he was about to turn around, the bar doors swung open. They did so with so much force, it scared the singer. Confused, he remained on the sidewalk, immobile. Suddenly from behind him, a large crowd of people began to rush towards the entrance. The mob was shouting incoherent things and flooded into the small opening. Youngjae, who happened to be standing in the middle of their way, was engulfed into the sea of bodies. He tried to get out of it, pushing and forcing himself through the mass, but it was too late.  He got swept up into the crowd and he too eventually made it inside the bar.  

               Youngjae was stark scared once he was inside the building. The music was vibrant and loud. The furnishings were that of a casino mixed with an old wooden restaurant. The stage behind him was flashy, probably fit for 50 people. There were customers and employees everywhere. But thankfully none of them noticed the young little lamb among the hordes of wolves around him. Brushing off the bizarre event, he decided it was time to go on a hunt himself.

               I’m here now I might as well do some searching. Once I get out of this mess, I’ll never speak of this to anyone. Yoo Youngjae was never here.

               Nonchalantly, he strided across the floor to the countertops. As he walked, he glanced in all directions, hoping for a visual clue, but nothing in the jam-packed space gave him a sign. He soon found a stool and sat on it, resting for a moment. The bartender at the counter, a man in his late thirties, offered him a drink but he refused.

               “You’re Korean?”

               “H..How did you know?” asked Youngjae, who was amazed he found someone that could speak his own language. The bartender pointed at his own chest, right over his heart. Youngjae looked down to his own chest and made an “oh” when he remembered his name was stitched into his front jacket pocket. He felt mocked by the dead giveaway of the letters, and was immediately embarrassed.

               “It’s ok! I’ve traveled to Korea a lot so I’m very fluent.” the bartender laughed fiercely. “You’re among friends here.” Youngjae weakly laughed along, knowing secretly that his very own best friend was somewhere lost in the city.   

               “Did you get in during the rush? They open the doors for 10 seconds once a week and whoever gets in gets to see the special show free of charge,” he said, enunciating the last words very suggestively.

               Is that what that mob was earlier? Youngjae simply nodded and mentally cursed his lucky stars for the coincidence.

“Wait...I recognize you.” The  bartender squinted at the young boy, making him anxious again. “You’re that idol singer aren’t you? Yeah, I recognize the ads going around.”  Youngjae gulped and nodded for a second time. The bartender’s voice suddenly took a grim turn.

               “This is bad. This is very bad.”

               “What’s the matter? Do I have to leave?” Youngjae nervously asked.

               “It’s not about that. You see, they have your friend. Your bandmate I believe.”

               “What??” Youngjae couldn’t believe the words that his ears picked up just now. He most certainly knew he meant Daehyun. In a hushed tone, the bartender beckoned him closer and continued.

               “This bar, it isn’t really a bar. It’s a front. A set up. Terrible things go down in here. The ringleaders of this group running the place are responsible for a lot of human-trafficking. They’ve kidnapped a lot of people and sell them to filthy rich bastards. It’s a huge underground operation that’s been going on for years now. They have branches all over the world.”

               Youngjae was fixated into horror as he continued to listen to the man’s confession.

               “The masked men...” he whispered out unintentionally.

               “Ohh, so you’ve seen them already?” stressed the bartender. “Well, your friend, he was one of today’s captives.” Youngjae’s eyes grew wide with worry at the statement.  

               “But the higher ups decided to hold him for ransom instead, since they found out about you guys being celebrities. They figured that would be the best way to make the most money...”

               “How do you know all this?” Youngjae asked, biting back the terrified furor that rattled his body.     

               “Well, because I’m one of them.”

               There was no warning for what came next. A barstool came flying behind Youngjae, leaving him just seconds to dodge the projectile by the skin of his teeth. Soon after, the assailant rushed towards the vulnerable singer. Youngjae spun around the brute and pushed him into the counter, knocking him out. Apprehensive, he looked for the deceitful bartender, but he was gone, just like the old man that left the convenience store at the very beginning of this disaster. All that Youngjae could see now was frenzy throughout the whole bar; he set off a domino effect of fighting everywhere. Glasses were being shattered, furniture was being thrown up into the air and the cries of anger harmonized into the loud music booming around him. It was sheer madness. Whatever was going on, Youngjae knew he was a target.

               Desperate for escape, he pushed through the battling bodies, crashing person into person, forcing his way behind limbs and torsos. After fending off what felt like an army, he was able to break away to a small clearing in a dark hallway at the opposite side of the bar. Panting heavily, he continued down the path until he bumped his hands into a coarse brick wall.   

               .

               Not far away he could hear shouting from the others coming his way. Quickly, he patted his hands along the brick surface until he figured out there was a right turn where the walls met. He adjusted himself and kept moving along as fast as he could. Another left turn, and Youngjae soon discovered a new obstacle.

               Under a singular light at the end of the corridor, he saw a muscular man aimlessly standing by a flight of stairs. Youngjae bit back his lip and fearlessly continued forward.  He had nothing on him; no weapons, no assistance, no mask to put on as a disguise. As afraid as he was there was no turning back. He had gone too far to stop now.

               He walked briskly down the hall until he met the staircase. The precarious looking man in front of him was unusually dressed. He wore a black-dress shirt at the top...and at the bottom, a pair of extremely teeny denim shorts. It wasn’t the weirdest thing Youngjae had seen all day. Around his neck was neon lanyard carrying a handful of keys. Youngjae made the connection that he must have been a bodyguard. Averting his eyes away, he made for the stairs. But before he could make the fateful turn, the man addressed him.

               “Where do you think you’re going?” The singer fluently answered the question in Japanese.

               “...I’m going to the bathroom.” Youngjae grasped onto the handrail, anxiously inching his way towards the first step.

               “The bathroom isn’t here.”

               “Well where is it then?” The bulky bodyguard stared menacingly at the young boy before jerking his head slowly to the right, lifting his arm up profoundly and pointing down the hallway.

               “It’s down past the-“

               Youngjae punched the man square in the jaw. The bodyguard let out a ferocious shout before stumbling backwards. Youngjae himself let out an excruciating gasp, realizing that punching someone in the face was not as easy as it was in the movies. The mysterious mob that was gunning for him was closing in through the hallway; Youngjae could hear their voices coming closer and closer by the second. Without much thought, Youngjae snatched the keys off of the guard’s neck and ran like hell down the stairs. Enraged shouting echoed behind the singer as he cascaded, step by step, hoping he would find his exit.

               This never happened. Yoo Youngjae did not punch a guy in the face. He kept shouting that in his head with each huff of air he took as he ran.

               After two short flights of stairs, he arrived at a door, which was of course locked. Shaking, Youngjae took out the stolen keys. He flipped the pile straight to the last key, since it was always the last key that would work. He jammed it into the keyhole and pressed his body against the door, praying it was the one. From up above, the bodyguard was rocketing down the stairs. A couple more twists of the wrist did the trick; the door swung wide open and Youngjae slipped into the darkness before slamming it behind him. A slam of a hand vibrated the metal of the door as it locked in place. Youngjae winced in fear, expecting the man to bust through the door and crush him by the shoulders with just his bare hands. But nothing more came. He eventually calmed down once there were no more signs of another presence. He was safe. At least for now.

               Youngjae could not see anything around him. With his hands he searched around and felt a wall. He was still inside the building. Youngjae clasped his hands around his body. It was as if the temperature had dropped 10 degrees. Trembling from both the cold and his own jitters, he patted the wall for more information. He soon felt a light switch. He flipped it on and squinted at the immediate brightness.  

               The room revealed itself to be a dingy storage room of some sort,  much larger than it appeared to be. Youngjae, who was on top of another staircase, decided he would explore the ground floor. Very cautiously, he stepped down. He was aware there could be more bodyguards hiding about. Not a few steps in and he already heard a voice.

               “Youngjae?”

               The singer stopped in his tracks.

               That was familiar.

               ”Youngjae is that you?”

               Daehyun?

               “Daehyun???”

               “Youngjae I’m down here!”

                 Abandoning all of his discretion, Youngjae sprinted down the stairs and finally saw him. Daehyun was locked inside a barred cell at the end of the room. He rushed over to his side and knelt down to his level, appalled to see him in such an indiscriminate place. Before either could utter a word, Daehyun took the younger into a tight embrace between the bars, startling him. Despite Youngjae’s hesitation, he let go of his prohibitions and allowed the elder to have this moment. He swung his arms around the older singer and pulled them closer. Youngjae hated it when Daehyun had to care. But he wanted nothing else at the moment. Youngjae embraced him back, taking in his warmth, making sure he was really there in front of him.

               “Youngjae,” Daehyun choked out, his voice on the verge of cracking. “You have to help me..” he clutched the back of Youngjae’s jacket, fighting back tears. “They’re gonna turn me into a ing e. They’re probably gonna dress me up and send me to a whorehouse to do things. They’re gonna do things to me. I don’t want to be a , I don’t know what to do, I’m so ing scared.”

               “Shut up,” Youngjae whispered, getting back to his senses and releasing them from their hold. “They’re not going to turn you into a .”

               “How do you know that?!” Youngjae grasped Daehyun’s shoulder firmly and looked him dead in the eye.

               “They’re only holding you here for ransom right now. They were probably after me too.” He took out the lanyard of keys to show the elder. “But it’s ok, because I have these. I’m getting you out.” Daehyun made a huge sigh of relief.

               Youngjae collected himself and prepared to unlock the door. As he rummaged through the keys, Daehyun made a discreet “thank you.” Youngjae absent-mindedly made no reply, but the words alone felt too bittersweet. Even though none of this ordeal was his fault, he wanted to amend his behavior earlier that day. Being a hero was not enough; he had to make it up somehow, at the proper time.

               Youngjae found the key and unlocked the cell.

               “There, you should be fine no-“

               “Youngjae! Look out!!!”

               The younger spun around only to have a blunt object strike against his head. Youngjae felt the pain but couldn’t shout because he had already fallen unconscious. Daehyun’s cries of anguish soon faded away like smoke. Everything turned black. Youngjae’s time spent with Daehyun was all the time he needed to lose him all over again.

A/N: So it's 4 parts and the last will be really short. I hope it's making sense xD
Thank you guys again for the support I really appreciate it! even if this is bad lol