She can't remember who she was before it all happened.

It was a distant memory that only hunted her deep at night, when she closed her eyes, right before she fell asleep. The flashbacks didn't include anything particularly horrifying; it was the details that haunted her. Like the blood tainted gun that laid on the floor unused that she saw while lying on the ground, practically unconscious, she was just starting to come to her senses and she remembers how she tried to focus all her energy on getting up, but instead, for some reason, she only laid there, staring through a blurry vision at the gun laying on the ground. Or like the feeling that someone was grabbing her shoulders, snatching her away like they've done before, even though she's all alone. Jennie only remembered the useless but prominent details. Details were always vulgar, Oscar Wilde had once wrote. And Jennie agreed.

She sat on her father's desk, watching some of their men giving an awful report of what has happened in Beijing, she tuned out most of bit, she was already expecting this. The Chois are hungry dogs, and hungry dogs are never loyal - okay maybe she wasn't expecting it to have gone to such extremes where blood is spilt but she did warn her father of his allance with them.

But aside from the details that haunted her at night, Jennie's concern was the day. How can someone come back from an almost fatal incident and two years of constant pressure, the same?

Jennie wasn't the same and when she tried to be, she couldn't remember what she was like to begin with. Was she talkative or quiet, was she nice or mean, did she like pinl or purple, did she prefer chicken or meat? All these questions were what haunted her at daytime. Nighttime sadness could be controlled but daytime confusion was well.. confusing. but she believes she is more frustrated than confused, how can she not remember a single thing about her traits before all that?

Jennie lived a rellife nightmare trying to make up a brand new personality all over again, because man, she really couldn't remember about herself. But maybe it was for the best, maybe the change she has underwent was good for her, after all she couldn't recall adoring guns before. So, Jennie was okay, and if she isn't now, than she will be okay later, she knows she will.

As the men left, her father rested his elbows on the desk and buried his head in it. The burden on his shoulder was crystal clear, since she knew the consequences of this incident. They have spilt the blood of their own and now her father had to kill for vengence, and appearences. She put a hand on his back to comfort him.

Heavy is the crown, they say, power, money, the luxory they lived in had a price, a terrible, one. Sacrafices must be made and the first sacrafice was one's soul.

"I need to go to Beijing, You'll be okay?"

"Yes, dad. I'll be fine." She answered honestly, "Are you sure you don't want me to come with?" She asked hesitantly.

"No. No." He quickly refused.

Jennie sighed, hopping off the desk, she grabbed her bag, "I'm not a kid anymore." She exclaimed but didn't push onto the matter more. Her father got the point, "I'll see you in two days..?'' She wondered. “Will uncle Chanyeol come with you?”

"I'll be back tomorrow, tops." He assured. “I don’t think so. He’s… having a hard time with his sons. They’re all grieving and the situation over there is all over the place.”

“We must go to the funeral, to pay our respects. I can’t wait to meet them.” She gave him a tight hug, in which she knew he needed, "Bye, Dad. Be safe."

+

"I have a some... Terms." Jungkook began, hesitant. Sitting before the man who had hurt his brother, wasn’t as hard as he expected it to be, his hands didn’t shake or perhaps they did, but he hid them quietly. He didn’t stutter, because in this prison called home, weakness can be deadly.

"You're not in the position to make demands.” His father said, raising his eyes to his son.

“I know, but I need your word, on some matters." Jungkook said.

"My brother has nothing to do with anything, I'm gonna have to do." He said, he knew there was a price to be paid for his father's hospitality.

"That's not possible, he needs to know the life we lead." Chanyeol refused.

"Knowledge and involvement are very different matters." Jungkook argued. "He can know, I just don't want him involved. He's too young."

"You're very protective over him, aren't you?" Chanyeol noted that Jungkook was a little too protective of his brother.

"We only got each other,." He reminisced, his mother used to always say that. "I have to keep him safe until he can take care of himself."

The man paused, "Fine. What else?"

"My education to be continued in Seoul."

"Done."

“One last thing,” Jungkook revealed. "Don't punish him for my mistakes."

His father paused, “You’re gonna have to stop being so protective someday, you know.” He said. “You need to let him get a little roughed up.”

Jungkook was just about to tell him that it was not his damn business, but his bruises reminded him that he needed to be smoother. Being a smartass right now wasn’t the ideal thing to do.
“Okay. I’ll try.”

His father didn’t seem amused, he thought he would be happy with him being obedient, but the man still had a frown on his face. What did he want from him? Jungkook doesn’t know how he can play it safe when he doesn’t know what game he is playing,

+

Smooth operation, good money; that’s what Minho offered. A couple of bags with pills inside them and a couple of grams to deliver to some rich kids on the south side – the rich side. Clearly, due to some unintentional error, Minho didn’t realize that the rich kids weren’t only that, these rich kids are Chois. Which endangered them, but not only that, that fact made this an illegitimate deal. Someone will pay gravely for selling to Chois without permission. Hell, Phoenix will have his head hanging on his wall for this.

In the dark alleyway, the two Chois seemed out of place, with their fancy clothes and designer shoes. “Sorry, we can’t sell you anything.” Jimin said. His panic and frustration clogging his throat. . . . This is bad, he glanced around him, in this part of town, jimin didn’t know how many eyes Phoenix had here, but Phoenix had eyes everywhere. If they’re seen here, then they’re done for.

“What do you mean, man, c’mon, we got the money.” The boy said, shuffling unpatiently, they’re clearing used to having they’re way. But not this time. This time, it will cost one of their heads if they do sell them anything.

Minho hissed at him, “They got the money, bro.” Clearly and – like always, Minho was blinded by the money, how could he see the clear tattoos displayed on their neck of a snake hissing its poison with its fangs bared. It was the Chois’s membership tattoos. Jimin glared and then grabbed his friend, dragging him a bit away so he can have a word, excusing them.

“They are Chois!” He whisper – yelled at his friend. “We can’t sell them .”

“Why not?” Minho asked, “Ain’t nobody gotta know.”

“Phoenix will know and he will kill us both and cook us for supper. So go tell your spoiled friends that they not getting from us.”

“No man. It’s good money, why would I let this go?”

“It’s dirty money, Min and you ing know it.” He said, furious. This was getting increasingly bad. If someone sees them, then Jimin and his sister will starve to death if he’s nto buried six feet under before that. “They just killed two of ours and you just go on to get them high?”

Jimin knew how Minho cared so much for money – just like himself, but Jimin would prefer his head attached to his head so he can spend said money.

“Let’s just sell them the stuff and go home. Your rent is due Jimin, just because you ripped the evacuation paper doesn’t mean you and Jisoo won’t end up on the streets.” His friend said, and , it was a good point but, but he can’t, he really can’t. if this reaches any of their superiors, it will be disaster.

“Yo.” One of the Chois called, and Jimin turned his head to them.

He paused, but he has already made his mind. Phoenix has been nothing but generous and Jimin will be loyal in return. “We ain’t got anything to sell. Go home.” Jimin locked his jaw and stood firmly, this is the stance he should’ve taken from the beginning. Loyalty to Phoenix, always.

Seeing how his friend behaved, Minho shook his head but stood behind, there was nothing he could do. Jimin had the stuff anyway.

“We didn’t come all the way here to be cheated by a couple of…” He trailed off, eyeing them up and down as if looking for the right term, “Street rats.”

“ you.” Minho said, and Jimin smiled, agreeing that this was the appropriate response.

The boys seemed offended, walking forward, he cornered Jimin into the wall, with a hand around his neck. Jimin walked with the current, he wasn’t worried, these kids were just rich kids, cowards. “You’re in my territory now.” He reminded threateningly, tightening his hold. Jimin still looked unimpressed. “Where’s the stuff?”

“You’re not getting anything from me. Let go.” Jimin said calmly, by now they should’ve gotten bored and left to find someone else to get high from. But the boy pushed him more into the wall, and the other boy reached into his pocket for a small pocket knife. Instead of giving the reaction the Chois wanted, the two gangsters cackled.

Minho smirked, “Don’t hurt yourself, big boy.” The boy launched at him and easily Minho dodged, grabbing his wrist and forcing the knife out of his hand. The movements were simple because one, the boy held the knife unsteadily and two, being on the streets, you know how to deal with like this.

“Let go.” Jimin said again, calm and quiet. With Minho holding the knife, and Jimin raising his shirt to reveal that he’s packing, the two boys scurried away with a weak threat and a promise to come back. But honestly, these kind of boys get eaten on their side of town.

“Look, J,” Minho said, “I got a new knife.” Jimin and his friend laughed as they began walking away from the alleyway. They were separated as Minho made his way to the subway and Jimin to the bus station.

Jimin sat down waiting for his bus, his backpack in his lap, stress on his shoulder weighting him down. He had to get some cash. Quick. Like in two days he need like five hundred Won or his sister will end up on the streets. Parents dead, no family, an eighteen old boy that had to bear burdens no other had to bear. Roof atop their head and food on the table, he had to provide both, and he will, even if he had to sell drugs on the corner of their ty neighborhood, even if he had to bend a knee in front of a man who’s hands dripped of the blood of his enemies, even if he has to beat, hurt, and scar those who dare to threaten the bunch of thugs he called family. They were family, and family stuck together. Unlike the Chois, who had a snake for a membership tattoo and logo, They – Phoenix’s men had a wolf. Because wolfs stick together, they hunt together, they live together and they offer each other warmth.

That’s what Phoenix offered him at his father’s funeral, he didn’t offer him money, or glory, or a place up the food chain, he offered him the promise of a family. And Jimin had agreed, having just lost his.

Pulling him out of his thoughts, a sleek black sports car pulled up in front of the bus stop, stealing everyone’s attention. The highschool girls giggled when the boy in the car rolled down his window, “Hey, J.” The boy greeted, with a mischievous smirk that seems to always be decorating his face.

Not moving from his seat, “ you want?” He coldly replied. You know how every family has this one member that everyone hated because he was a rich manipulative, arrogant piece of that thought he has better than everyone, that was Suga. One of the most popular thugs in Seoul, held one of the biggest territories outside Phoenix’s. They were not enemies, not at all, as they had the same supplier, he was technically one of Phoenix’s men but didn’t pledge his loyalty, nor have a tattoo of a wolf painting his neck.

Suga laughed at his aggressive response, which made Jimin narrow his eyes at him, usually, Suga would have a smartass comeback. “Get in.” He said instead.

“I’m not in the mood for your games. Leave me alone.” Jimin said, he just wanted to go home, eat, get some sleep so he can go out at night.

“I got a job for you,” Suga said in a sing-song tone. As if bating a small child with chocolate to go to sleep at bed time.

“After last time?” Jimin questioned, “You’re lucky I didn’t shoot you then, Suga. Leave.” Jimin shook his head at memories of having a bullet pass right next to his head, grazing his cheek. He still has the scar to remind him that Suga isn’t to be trusted.

“Oh C’mon!” He said, laughing. “How was I supposed to know they were gonna get us?”

“Yeah, right.” Jimin scoffed. “And somehow you got to escape and somehow the whole thing made it easier to pressure Kim to give you more territory and somehow –“

“- Okay, fine. Maybe it did play into my favor but it was not planned I promise.” Suga admitted. “Now get in.”

“No.”

“Come on, J. I’ll give you a ride home.”

Knowing he will most likely regret it, but being too tired to care, he got in. “What’s your address?”

“Just say whatever you got to say, Suga.”

The boy started the car anyway. “I need you to get me in a room with Phoenix.”

Jimin paused, processing his words, “I’m not that high up to do that.” He confessed honestly.

“Yes, you are.” Suga said, seemingly convinced.

“I run drugs for him, we’re not exactly golf buddies. I don’t even know how to contact him.”

“You will,” Suga assured, “Cause what just happened with Minho, that was a test to see if you’re loyal to him. A sort of initiation.”

“Don’t with me.” Jimin warned.

“Yeah, right. Minho who has been doing this since he was twelve got so greedy that he was willing to betray Phoenix – or maybe you thought he didn’t see their marks. Did he tell you it was good money and a smooth operation too?” He said. You know what was the only thing Jimin liked about Suga; he was insane enough to explore every aspect of a situation, he had the mind of a devil, he was able to think like those above him.

When Jimin was quiet, Suga stopped the car, “Just think about, J.”

In a daze, Jimin exited the sports car, looking around him, he found himself right in front of his apartment building, how did that piece of know where he lived?