The streets of Gangnam, the richest neighbourhood in all of Korea was quiet, a stray alley cat crouched under a fallen trash can searching for its daily meal, a mice quickly crossed the road, the wind howled as loud as it could and a figure jumped down a fence in the corner. 

He pulled up the dark grey mask covering the lower half of his face, his eyes raking in the enormity of the property he just climbed into. Just the lawn itself was huge and the two storey building screamed high class, architecture at its finest show of display standing right before him, and he knew the design of it like the back of his hands, he had done his research well. He smirked behind his mask and head forward. His footsteps were as light as a feather falling, his breathing got more shallow the closer he got to the house, and his right hand gripped something on his waist while his left hand stayed up in defence and his head turned in different angles every second for his security.

He looked up and saw a red light blinking right above the front door. Such a low level security considering how much wealth the house possessed, but of course not everyone knew of its wealth.

From his waist, he produced a small black cloth with which he covered the lens of the security camera; he had made sure the cloth wasn’t made of thin fibre. He turned his head once again to check if anything seemed suspicious. After making sure nothing felt wrong, he took out a small pin from his pocket and started working on the lock. Click. It was all too easy. He may not have done the job for quite a long time now, but his body felt familiar to it, it felt as natural as breathing. He grinned as he walked inside the house, his hands skimming along the walls adorned with expensive paintings. He scoffed, knowing how little these rich people really ‘know’ about actual art, their love for their extravagance and showing it off. Fools. He wasn’t even an Arts student, but he was confident in knowing their true values, at least more than these ignorant men. He knew the men of Gangnam all too well and how they climbed into their high social stature, certainly not by any fair means. He had never felt guilty taking from them; he thought it was only the act of letting them know what they themselves did, methods were definitely not the same but still, stealing is stealing.

His hands reached out to the limited editions of various well known books, each expensive known even from its look and the feel of the velvet covers. He softly placed his finger against a particular book, sensing the familiar hard cover and smiling bitterly to himself.

24 hours ago

“Why are you late again?” Jongin asked through clenched teeth.

“I told you, I’m working on a project.” Kyungsoo replied in a monotone voice, slipping into a pair of jogging pants and a loose shirt.

“You’ve been ‘working’ on it for over a month, Kyungsoo...”

“It’s a long one.” Kyungsoo replied with the same tone, dragging himself to the kitchen to make himself some dinner. “Want coffee?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

Jongin looked at his fiancé from his work desk and sigh, closing his book. Since when did their relationship become this...thing? A monotonous life, the same tone every day, the same argument, the same answers, the same conclusion. Was it perhaps their work keeping them apart? Was it the leaving at seven in the morning and coming home at 12 at night?  Was it because they barely spared each other few sentences?

Jongin went back to the book he was currently reading. Me Before You , Jojo Moyes.  He remembered the day Kyungsoo brought the book home, six months ago. Kyungsoo had just returned from his visit to this one friend and Jongin remembered him being so happy, he smiled so bright and he was so beautiful, he still is. Jongin smiled a little at the thought. He remembered Kyungsoo not wanting to sleep because he was so immersed in the novel and how he had for being such a softie for cheesy romantic novels and how Kyungsoo had blushed hard.

Jongin wondered just how fast time goes and how fast things could change.

Kyungsoo flips his bacon on the frying pan. The sound of the meat searing resounds throughout the quiet apartment. Kyungsoo knew bacon and friend eggs was the typical breakfast but really, who cares, it was breakfast if it’s already past twelve. It was already another new day. He made himself comfortable on the couch while surfing the channel. He wince a little seeing Jongin joining him on the couch through the corner of his eyes.

Kyungsoo was tired, he was studying during the days and working late at nights, especially on weekends. He knew his work would have an effect on his personal relationship but he needed the money. He felt guilty, and angry as well at his fiancé. 

He felt hot tears prickling at the corner of his eyes. He was angry at Jongin for so many things ; he was angry at him mostly for always being so blunt even though Kyungsoo knew Jongin was always like that even before they met, but sometimes, times when he is so tired, times like now, he wished Jongin would be a bit more caring even just with his words. He knew he was not one to speak since he too was someone who barely showed affections but he was selfish right and he knew it.

‘A report had just got in that there was another robbery at Gapujeong. The victim claimed that a sum of over a billion won went missing, in addition to several Paintings, which were considered to be worth millions. Police suspects the working of the infamous robber nicknamed Shadow. However, many detectives had also pointed out that it was the work of an amateur robber and not Shadow. Many debates and speculations had risen from the robbery. This was the fifth robbery over the course of three mon-‘

“Why’d you turn it off?” Kyungsoo asked, a bit irritated at the rudeness.

“Why do you care? It’s just some robbery...” Jongin got up and head towards their bedroom.

Kyungsoo couldn’t take it anymore as he followed Jongin in.

“So what if I care? So what if..if I want to watch it? I can watch a ing news channel if I want to!!” Kyungsoo shouted, his chest rising up and down. “Why, Jongin? Why do you always have to have everything your way?”

He put the book down exactly where it was before he laid his hands on them. The air was musty and filled with a particular scent he couldn’t pinpoint, he sniffed carelessly once more before he made a move, as if somehow the scent would suddenly familiarised itself. Slowly and carefully he removed the painting in front of him, as quiet and as stealthily as a mouse. The inner fabric of his glove stuck to his skin, tiny beads of sweat moving in between, he had forgotten how nerve wrecking every single job was.  He managed to remove the painting and secured it under his arms without any sound.

And then with that same light footstep, head towards the backdoor. Once he was outside, he turned right where he located a big green trash can and head towards it. Quietly lifting the lid, he gently placed the painting inside. Whew. Just five more to go, he thought as he returned to make to same trip.

It was on his way back from the fourth trip that he heard an unusual sound. He stopped in his track and held his breath as he listened intently, quickly hiding behind the steps leading to the second floor.

He heard the sound of shuffling feet, it was barely inaudible, but he was certain he heard it. He turned his head a bit, his eyes searching around the visible areas from between the two walls blocking his vision. His line of vision was narrow, however he spotted a figure moving quickly towards the drawing room. The paintings. His eyes widened as he remember the painting he was supposed to carry out just a moment ago.

His hand met with cold metal as he drew out a gun from his ankle. Crouching low, he slowly made his way to the drawing room, doing his best not to fall over in the process. His back was pressed against the wall outside the room, he then turned his body to scan the area resulting him in nearly losing his balance. On seeing the area clear and making sure the absence of someone was not due to his carelessness, he walked in, still careful nonetheless, pointing his gun in every direction.

Seeing the painting untouched, he sat down, relieved that nothing was missing from his bag as well. He rummaged through his bag as he knelt, the tile was cold but the gun pointed on his head was colder.

‘Drop the gun or you’re dead’

16 Hours earlier-

Jongin woke up with a massive headache. He pushed the blanket off and slowly made his way to the bathroom, forcing his big hands up and down his face in frustration. He remembered how the night before went as he rinsed his face with water, the more he remembered the more he splashed himself. Anybody who saw him would’ve thought he had gone mad and maybe he was, he laughed bitterly as he stared at his reflection. ‘Why did I ever think I could change? He’ll never want me if he finds out’

Jongin remembered being dumbfounded at Kyungsoo’s question. He didn’t know he was commanding, he didn’t know he forced Kyungsoo, he didn’t even know what wrong he ever did to Kyungsoo.

“What did you say? Me? Wanting everything my way?” Jongin had sat on the bed, his feet touching the soft second hand rug Kyungsoo bought the year before on Christmas. It was still warm despite it being a bit old and ragged.

Kyungsoo nodded.

“Liar!! Kyungsoo, don’t you dare lie!! You lied and you know it..” Jongin replied, his hands the blanket tightly.

Kyungsoo stepped closer, a strong determination etched on his face. “But why would I lie, Jongin? Everything we did was for you... you don’t want to watch the news, so we don’t, you...don’t want a ing job, said you can’t have one right now so I have to work my off, and now, you are angry at me for being late? Do you even realise why we moved here in the first place??” Kyungsoo was c