Jennie guiltily drags herself into work the next day, a hangover raging. She quickly realizes she isn’t the only one suffering when she arrives to a strong stench of booze.

There’s a girl with her head on the table, a taller redhead hovering over her in worry.

“You too?” Jisoo laughs as Jennie walks into the kitchen sheepishly.

“Is she okay?” Jennie asks, tying on her apron as she peeks out at the two girls. They seem even younger than Joy.

“She’ll get used to it.” Jisoo sighs, switching off the burner of the stove. She gives the pot one last good stir. “When they’re told to drink, they have to drink. It takes a while to build a tolerance.”

Jennie nods, watching as Jisoo ladles out what looks like hangover soup. waters.

“Should I take that out to them?”

The older girl smirks, seemingly reading her mind.

“Yes, and then afterward you can sit down down and have yourself a bowl as well.”

Jennie does as she’s told, setting the bowls in front of the girls before making one for herself. She sits in the kitchen alone, letting the rising steam from the broth warm her face.

“Isn’t it lonely to sit back here by yourself?” Jisoo asks. “You shouldn’t be eating alone.”

“I can’t eat with… customers.”

Jisoo smiles.

“You can eat with me, then.”

But despite her words, Jisoo only drinks tea as she looks out the barred window. Jennie catches glimpses of the club as she follows her gaze, the surrounding lot is empty save for a few cars. She sees no one around, gang members or otherwise. It’s almost dystopian.

“Jisoo, what is your husband like?” The younger girl asks once she’s finished her soup. She had been curious for a while. Jisoo never mentioned him.

“My husband?” Jisoo peers cautiously at the two girls still eating at the other table. “He’s cold, but warm. Foolish, but dependable.”

“Ah, I see.” Jennie somehow regrets asking but isn’t sure why. Jisoo rests a delicate hand on the swell of her stomach. To Jennie she looks like a goddess.

“Are you dating anyone, Jennie?”

“Yes.” She answers resolutely, taking a sip of tea.

“What is he like?”

How could she describe Namjoon?

His smile that was always infectious, his record collection that sounded like a calm Sunday morning? His hands, so big and warm?

His eyes… His eyes…

“He is… My whole world.”

. . .

With the nightfall, the neighborhood had returned to its decadence.

The lights outside the noodle shop cast a warm lamplight as Jennie sweeps. She pauses in disgust as she notices a drunk urinating on the side of the building.

“Hey!” She yells, annoyance outweighing any self-preservation skill. He turns to look at her, face flushed. It’s just some drunk old man, she tells herself. “Does this look like an outhouse to you?”

“What did you say to me?” He slurs his words as he ambles toward her, his pants still ped. Jennie grits her teeth as she averts her eyes. “What, like what you see?”

“Hell no.” She spits out venomously, gripping onto the broom as the man gets closer. His half-lidded gaze oozes over her, sending shivers up her spine.

“Do you want to have some fun?”

His hand reaches toward her.

“You better get away from me.” Jennie warns.

“Or what?”

The handle of the broom slices across the distance, connecting with the side of the man’s head with a crack.

Jennie steps back, breathing heavily as adrenaline rushes through her veins. The drunk touches at the blood dripping down his face, before clumsily launching himself at her. His hand grabs onto her shoulder as she tries to move him away.

The necklace snaps from her neck as the old drunkard crashes onto the ground. She looks up in surprise as Suga presses his boot into the man’s face.

Jennie falls back in surprise as she watches the exchange. The drunk eventually leaves as Suga collects the gold chain from the ground, inspecting it with a strange expression.

“Is this yours?” He asks, holding it against the light.

She touches a