After another gunshot was heard, she made her decision, following after him, not once looking back.
 

“Start going!” He shouted, hand giving another sharp tug to her wrist as they approached the far west parking lot, which was rarely used excluding when students, teachers, or visitors wanted to smoke. She heard an engine start and looked up to find an old, beat up truck revving up with four other boys in it. One of them in the back of the truck stood ready to haul them up as the two ran alongside the car, and the boy looked back at her.
 

“Do you trust me?”

 

She didn’t have time to respond before he whipped her in front of him, into the hands of the boy in the truck’s bed, who hauled her in the space before falling over with her deadweight. Shocked, she let her weight fall on top of the mystery boy, taking a few seconds before her brain kicked back into gear. She lifted herself up on her arms, apologizing to the boy, taking in his appearance. Orange hair and a smile with a slightly crooked front tooth, looking up at her with wide eyes like he couldn’t believe she was real. She would’ve probably thought he was cute if she weren’t still shocked, but he gently rolled over, going back to the side to grab the first boy’s arm.

 

As the boy got into the back with relative ease, he called for the driver to step on it, and they sped away from the college, and he came and plopped down next to her.

 

“Stay down, we don’t need them spotting us.” He instructed, pulling her to lie on the bed on the truck. Still regaining her functions, she agreed. She would’ve argued and sneered at the dirty floor, but right now laying down seemed like a good idea before she actually fell over from shock.

 

The boy faced her on the floor, smiling boyishly and that seemed to snap her back into her senses completely, shaking her head and starting to prop herself up.

 

“Seriously, what the hell is going on, why were there gunshots on my campus, and why did you take me??” She fired question after question, before having the boy pull her down once more.

 

“I said stay down. Don’t make me use force.” He threatened, and she shivered at his tone. She glared to show that she wasn’t scared, even if she was freaking out at the current situation.

 

“Answer me. I ran with you, now tell me.” She demanded once more, but this time remaining low on the bed of the truck.

 

“Well, long story short, a gang attacked and I saved you.” He shrugged, rolling over on his back.

 

She allowed herself to gasp this time, “A gang?? At my school? That’s impossible, security is—“

 

“Security is nothing compared to a gun, girl.” He cut her off, looking at her without humor.

 

“Then why me?” She pressed. She heard a laugh from the front of the truck, probably the driver.

 

“You didn’t tell me she was a curious one.” The voice joked. The boy scowled at her. “I didn’t think she was, she was quiet that night.”

 

“I was tired.” She countered, “And I also hadn’t just heard gunshots and was kidnapped by a group of strange boys. Speaking of, why me?”

 

He sighed, covering his eyes with his arm. “You saved me, so I saved you. My debt’s repaid.”

 

“Debt?” She repeated, turning over on her back as well, “I didn’t ask for you to repay a debt. I didn’t even say there was one.” She groaned, running a hand through her hair.

 

“Wait!” She jolted, eyes wide again, “My roommates! The gunshots – what if they were –“ She faltered, leaning back on her elbows. If anything had happened to them, she wouldn’t forgive herself.

 

“Don’t care, they weren’t the ones I owed.” Was his response. And hers was a well-deserved punch in the arm closest to her.

 

“Fine, we’ll drop you off somewhere and you can go back. I don’t care.” He huffed, rubbing his arm and turning away from her. She scowled, leaning back and crossing her arms.

 

“It’s not safe, they’d still look for her and she’d get shot on sight.” The orange haired boy pointed out, lying above them, closer to the window where the driver’s voice came from.

 

“Why would I get shot? I didn’t do anything.” She asked, looking up towards him.

 

“You helped him.” He pointed at the boy next to her, and she blinked. “…So?” She asked, confused. What did her tending to a few bruises and a busted lip make her the target for a gang of all things?

 

“He did some stupid , got the beat out of him and they left him there. They must of saw him leave your apartment.”

 

“I still don’t see how that involves me.” She huffed, glaring at the boy’s back. The orange haired boy laughed lightly. “Of course you don’t. But, to make it simple, once you help one gang, the other gangs think that you’re apart of the one you helped. And you weren’t supposed to help him, we weren’t even going to go after him until—“

 

“He could’ve died!” She argued, surprising everyone. It got quiet after that, thinking about it. “He was hurt and alone... What was I going to do, ignore him?” She mumbled, hiding her face with her hair.

 

“And that’s why you’re here.” The boy that started it all turned towards her. “Now shut up and get some rest. You’re safe now.”

 

It didn’t help her nerves or her shaken thoughts, but he did make her realize just how tired she was. She sighed, rolling over so her back faced his. She wasn’t going to sleep, but she could at least pretend she was. She might learn a couple of things, like where she was being taken.

 

Unfortunately, over the long time it took for her to get there, wherever there was, the conversation was little and overall unhelpful with information. They must not take any chances, even with her, she mused. The old truck came to a stop, and there was commotion and murmurings as she felt people move around and left her be. She remained where she was. Her shoulder was shaken after a few minutes, and she rolled over to see neither of the two she had spoken to, but one with a mop of brown hair and a mess of green highlights in his bangs. He smiled at her, and she furrowed her brow.

 

“Hey, princess. Get on up!” He cheekily said, before launching himself out of the truck, his head peeking over to see if she was going to follow. She pulled herself up, looking around. It was well past dark, probably past any time she would’ve been studying in the library. She d for her bag, only to find it wasn’t with her. She looked over at the boy, eyebrow raised.

 

“Kook took it, now come on.” He answered, hand out to help her out of the truck’s bed she assumed. She opted for his wrist, not wanting to be put in some kind of hold and be unable to move. He simply smiled at her again, before leading her towards the alleyway. She followed. What else could she do?

 

Reaching a chain and wood fence, he lifted part of the links and pushed her through it, following closely and leading her once again through the dimly lit gravel paths. It looked like they were in a rail yard, she noted as they passed what looked like lines of old boxcars and fuel engines, all rusted and old from use.

 

When they stopped in front of a boxcar, she was tensed and prepared for the worst. While he had said he saved her from another gang, for all she knew they did that so they could kill her. The boy simply pulled the car’s door open, hauling himself up before reaching out for her. She hesitated. She could run at this rate, the rail yard looked large enough where she could hide until morning and sneak away --

 

Click. “Don’t even think about running, sweetheart.” She looked up, seeing the barrel of a gun pointed to her head and a tall man at the trigger. She gulped.

 

Mondays, she decided, were never a good day.

 

She stared past the barrel of the gun, focusing on the tall male that gripped it. Behind him were the two boys from earlier, along with three more that she didn’t know. That made a total of seven. She weighed the options in her mind. She couldn’t get away in time, even if she could avoid the bullets. She took a deep breath, her eyes never leaving the male holding the gun.

 

“Get in.” He gestured to the inside of the car, and before she knew it, she was being roughly handled by the green highlighted boy who escorted her, banging her good knee on the side of the car as she scrambled to find purchase on the wooden floor. She hissed, wobbling as she was shoved more into the car. It looked… rundown, with mismatched and broken chairs gathered around a table from what she could see in the dim light that was available to them.

 

Something else she wasn’t expecting, but probably should have in hindsight, was being roughly handled into one of those rickety chairs and the tall gun holder sitting directly across from her, loaded and pointed directly at her. One false move and she’d be dead, was the silent message sent. And most definitely received, she thought to herself as she stared back at him.

 

“What’s your name?” The gun wielder asked in a gruff voice, eyes never leaving her face. Intelligent, she observed. It was no wonder that he was asking the questions. He, out of all of them, would be able to tell if she was lying to them.

 

“Why do you care? There’s a good chance that bullet will be wearing it if I tell you.” She shot back. Her nerves may be shaken but she wasn’t about to let a group of delinquents get the best of her before she went. He sneered at her, one of his long fingers tracing the barrel of the gun as he did so, another ever so lightly hanging onto the trigger.

 

“Hm. Point taken, so we’ll just let you be named ‘’ for now, huh?” He pushed, eyeing her. She could feel her anger bristle. He knew that would get to her, and the smirk that showed as she put her eyes directly to the table to collect herself only further proved her hunch.

 

“Alright then, ,” he continued, seeming more at ease having successfully ruffled her up, “Tell me. For whom are you working for?”

 

Ah, so he was intelligent, she confirmed. She glanced up. “I work for St. Agatha’s Preparatory during the summers for athletics.” Another smart remark, and she swore she almost heard a chortle before the man in front of her glared behind her, presumably at the culprit.

 

“You know what I mean. Whom do you belong to?” He tried again, glaring hard, fingers now mostly resting on the trigger, a silent warning and an indicator that his patience was running thin. She decided to not test her luck any further. If she were to die, she would try to prolong it as long as possible.

 

“No one. And if you before you think that’s a smart answer, I mean it. I don’t belong to anyone, any group, and any kind of activity. I’m simply a student.” She explained, starting to fidget in her seat.

 

He scoffed, “Right. Then how’d you run into him?” He jerked his chin over to where, in the darkness, she knew that the young boy she had helped was watching the situation unfold.

 

“I was only walking by, I heard him groan, he and I saw each other, and then I had my conscience insisting that I needed to be a good person and help him.” She answered, remembering how awful it had been that she stumbled upon him. She should’ve left him.

 

“You should’ve left him.” He shrugged, speaking her thoughts, leaning back in his chair, “He had made a mistake and he was going through the punishment. We would come for him in the morning.”

 

That struck something inside her for some reason. While she had said the same thing to herself, her apathy was simply because she didn’t know him and therefore had no emotional past or attachment to him. The pure apathetic tone and body language he was using to talk about his (she was guessing) fellow gang member, when that night was freezing and there was no way he would’ve lasted until morning made her sick.

 

“No.” Was her response. He looked at her with dark eyes. She shouldn’t have said that. She didn’t regret it.

 

“What did you just say to me, ?”

 

She squared her shoulders, sitting up straighter, “No. The temperature could’ve killed him that night if I had left him, and despite your feelings towards the matter, I was a third, neutral party simply being a good person. I fail to see why you brought me here –“

 

His bitter laughter interrupted her, and she glared when he spoke, “You rich college girls are all the same. Thinking that you’re so good, so pure, trying to help a poor little street rat, thinking you can change him – I bet you thought this was some romance starting to unfold, huh?” He sneered. “But guess what, ? You chose wrong. This isn’t going to turn out well for anyone.” He steadied the gun in his hand. “You know too much. Give me a reason that I shouldn’t shoot your brains out right now.”

 

She looked at him for a moment, as he raised the gun to her forehead. For some reason, she was calm. She should be crying, begging for her life, like he said. But instead, she was distracted by the thoughts lingering about the words he said. Was she simply just one of the many who had a deluded fantasy of being involved in something so dangerous, all for love?

 

“You’re right.” She said softly, and she saw the gun jolt a little in surprise. “I’m exactly one of those rich college girls. I wanted to help the poor guy because he looked so scared… But after that is where you’re wrong.” She felt her eyes start to sting, the gun still a strong presence near her head. The metal and heat along with the strong aroma of some sort of smoke was a very strong smell and it hurt to breathe in.

 

“I didn’t want romance,” She managed to keep her voice steady, “I don’t even know his name. And by the by, if you’re asking me to plead for my life,” She glanced up at him, “I’m sorry to disappoint but I believe I won already.”

 

“What?” he hissed, but she saw the falter just a split second beforehand.

 

She breathed in, trying not to wince at how it burned to do so, “If you’re asking me why, then the chances are that you’re already anticipating to not kill me. Because you know that I don’t know anything. If you’re going to kill to kill, then you would’ve done it the moment I—No, if you hadn’t cared about saving me for whatever reason, you would’ve left me when the shooting happened.” She concluded, her sight locking into his. He was sitting now, the gun lowered so it wasn’t against her temple, eventually letting it settle on the table. She had won.

 

“So now I’ll ask the questions.” She leaned forward, “Why me?”

 

The man looked over behind her, and she rolled her eyes. “If you have to ask the leader or anyone for permission to answer anything, what good are you?”

 

“I could still shoot you, you know.” He growled, grip tightening on the gun again. She sighed. “I thought we concluded that something was keeping you from doing that, and I’d like to know why.”

 

“Just answer her, Mon.” A voice piped up, thick with a sort of rasp and a dialect, she caught in his pronunciation. “She’s right.”

 

The gun officially lowered, and a long, drawn out sigh came from ‘Mon’ in front of her. “You’re tougher than originally expected.”

 

She quirked an eyebrow, taking the statement as a small compliment. “You’re a fairly good actor, I’ll give you that. But I catch on to things relatively quickly.”

 

“Kook’s gone on about how he owes you his life, and our gang respects that debt. So that’s why you’re here.” He changed tracks, ignoring what she said. Whether it was out of contempt, annoyance or simply disinterest, she didn’t know.

 

“Kook? Is that his name…?” She mumbled, turning over the name in her head. It fit for his age, at least to how old she pictured him as being.

 

“Yeah. But the gang that got him the other night went back to see if he was still alive and found your phone at the scene. Didn’t take a genius to charge it back up and figure out whom you were.” He continued.

 

“Alright, but that doesn’t explain why they wanted me dead and decided to shoot up my school.” She pointed out. Why not wait until she came back searching for her phone? That would’ve been the easiest way to get rid of her.

 

“Don’t know why they decided to kill you, to be honest.” Mon admitted. “But when word went around that they were planning on shooting up your school, Kook immediately said we had to save you. So he took a few of the boys up there and waited until he could get your attention. He didn’t have a lot of time.”

 

“Is it safe for me to go back?” She asked, itching to leave the rail yard. While she appreciated the fact that Kook had enough of a conscience to save her, she didn’t feel like hiding.

 

“Nope.” Mon popped the ‘p’, if only just to annoy her in English. “And you’re not going anywhere anytime soon.”

 

“What?” She furrowed her brow, and he smirked at her. She really was starting to hate that smirk, along with those damn dimples that seemed to appear whenever he was really pleased.

“Welcome to the Bangtan Gang, .”

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After a very long hiatus due to computer troubles and having to struggle with my phone and a borrowed laptop that hadn't any of my writings or plot details and outlines, I have returned with avengence!!! I'll probably be posted chapters semi-regularly now, just editing and writing from here on out. Our female protagonist is certainly getting into some interesting trouble, hm? What do you think of it all? Subscribe, comment, recommend, all of those lovely things that make me smile! Happy Reading and have a Happy Tuesday, everyone!
~ Rye / Smile