CHAPTER 4 PREVIOUS DAY: 7:55AM (FLASHBACK) She wasn’t anything like he’d expected at all, from what he could see of her. She was an average height girl -not too tall nor short, young yet nearing adulthood, and she wasn’t strikingly beautiful, nor curvaceous. She didn’t wear much makeup -if she wore any at all, nor did she wear stylish clothing. Track pants, and a shirt beneath her hoodie, the hood drawn up over her head. A single eyelid and a round, childlike face. Namjoon admitted, it was rather anticlimactic with how normal this girl was. He was meant to keep track of her and report the connections he made to his comrade in Korea. He'd given up the opportunity to fly first class just to make sure he matched the same flight, and with an easy breach into the airports system, ensured that he'd get a ticket beside her. There was no room for error, nor coincidence. Understandably, the girl was quiet and hesitant upon their first meeting -and had gradually warmed up during the expanse of time which the flight took before arriving to their destination. The first connection had led them to Minnesota. "We've landed in Minnesota at 7:52 in the morning. I've secured a position next to the girl," he reported into his cellphone, keeping a passive expression on his features as he guided her, Alex, to the gift shop. He'd intended on buying a few things for her, and was taken aback that she'd made a detour elsewhere. She wasn't a mooch, nor an entirely submissive little pup. "Good. Any complications?" A dry, husky voice drawled out on the other line -Korean thickly accented with a hint of Daegu-spirit. “Nah. Everything went smoothly. We might be able to pull this off very easily,” Namjoon grinned and was amazed he hadn’t went outside to smoke. Instead, he bought bags of snacks and beverages, and ended the call with the man on the other line. “I’ll see ya.” “Don’t get arrogant, Kim-ssi,” the other voice said back before the line went dead. It continued that way for each layover, where Namjoon had reported the trip to his partner after each landing. He informed him about the girl’s personality when he found time alone, and continued to help her along the way. This was his mission after all. He needed to get her safely to Seoul. PRESENT DAY- 4:33AM (GANGNAM-GU, SEOUL) Darkness shrouded Seoul like a blanket; the once salmon-colored sky having shifted into a vast expanse of twilight that seemed to engulf the city. It was 4:33 in the morning, a brief look at his Rolex watch had informed him, and the streets were barren aside from a car or two driven by people who worked late night shifts at their workplaces. Only one person traversed the sidewalk, though, and as such the footsteps left by him went unheard. Just the way he liked it. Eventually, his end destination became clear; as the world around him began to light up in various shades of neon - he had finally made his way into Downtown Seoul, the area of the vast city in which the people never slept. Even now, when midnight had long passed, crowds of people hung around in the streets, socializing and sharing drinks as if they had no intentions of sleeping anytime soon. This is where he belonged. Unfortunately, he wasn’t there for a joy ride of any sort, and instead had plans to attend; a meeting with very important people -comrades, partners, he’d been working with the majority of his life. Around that time, not many places other than clubs, convenience stores, and coffee shops remained open so late, or early, but Namjoon knew that where he’d intended to be would be open. Club LOGIC stayed open until 6AM for the usual clubbers, but he was able to slip in the backdoor entrance with the simple bob of his head to the bouncer guarding the premises. The muffled thump of hip hop was still loud enough to mute the other sounds as he traversed through the back entrance -down the smoky halls riddled with dim, hazy blue and red neon lighting. The strong stench of flared in his nostrils were soon to fade, as would the music, the further down he descended to the secluded -closed off area. Even the gated elevator shaft was guarded, and only accessible to -certain- patrons. He knew the owner of the club well, and with those connections, had secured a place perfect for casual gatherings and business dealings. The bottom floor of the VIP lounge was where he’d met them - each scattered off into various sections of the fancy, refined room. The large lit aquarium which lined the walls gave off an ethereal blue glow to the otherwise soft purples, and aqua that the lounge was decorated with. Soft, jazzy music had replaced the now entirely muted sound of the loud hip hop above them thanks to the soundproof walls and its underground location. The smell of was faint, and replaced by the aroma of fragrant, alcoholic concoctions and a sizzling order of steak. He saw the culprit of that one, sitting alone in a booth - eating the juicy, tender New York strip with a knife and fork. Like an , Namjoon thought to himself with a grin. The others had noticed his presence right away, and only one had cared enough to rush over to him with his friendly smile and boundless energy. “He made it! I told you he wouldn’t die in a plane crash!” The orange-haired male said loudly with a laugh, killing the previously quiet and laid back atmosphere with his outgoing burst. He held out his hand, wiggling his fingers and waiting for the wad of money to be placed into his hand by two others. He’d dressed more business casual in an open black blazer with pale tan and pink flower print, a white button up shirt sans a tie, and black, crisp dress pants. Namjoon’s dark brow quirked, yet he shook his head at their antics. “Ya, Hoseok. You guys seriously bet on if I’d die or not?” He asked in calm disbelief, squinting his eyes as the orange-haired male collected money from a disgruntled brown haired, tall youth. His bemusement fell on the brunet, who instantly flashed him his boxy smile and made a v-shaped gesture with his fingers. “You never know hyung,” Taehyung said goofily, tongue sweeping between the crevices of his lips to moisten them once his smile disappeared almost instantaneously. The brown-haired male, merely wearing a tucked in white shirt -the top 4 buttons loosened to flaunt the creamy protrusion of his collarbones, took a seat back to where he’d been perched - across from the one who was intently enjoying the luxury of an expensive menu item. An order of the Stockholm Strip. He seemed to believe that if he watched the male eat long enough, he’d be offered a piece. The gorgeous male didn’t seem to heed his presence in the least, eyes fluttering closed as he chewed and savored each bite. After a few minutes of silent observation, Taehyung had finally grown impatient, clearing his throat loudly before announcing, in a booming, clear, and rather obnoxious voice - “Jin hyung. I’m hungry,” he whined, slamming his fists down on the table as he grew tired of remaining silent in regards to his rumbling stomach. Whilst normally Taehyung’s voice alone was enough to coerce anyone into doing his bidding, the older remained completely and utterly unfazed. Jin took his time swallowing another piece of the succulent, tender meat, before looking up at Taehyung and acknowledging his presence for the first time. “Go get your own,” he said with a serene, untroubled voice - waving his hand to dismiss the irritating younger boy. With a huff, Taehyung stood up - trudging his way over to another empty booth where he flopped down, crossing his arms angrily, and muttered something childish under his breath about how ‘nobody got between stupid Seokjin and his stupid food.’ Across the room from the eating area, there was a lounge; fitted with soft, luxurious white couches upholstered with red velvet padding. The area appeared to be mostly empty aside from two figures who shared one couch. One, a silver-haired male who appeared to be