Yoongi tapped his foot against the wooden flooring of the slowly moving elevator that was carrying him up to the top floor of the casino. He glanced down at the diamond Rolex watch on his wrist that Namjoon always grimaced at when Yoongi purposefully flaunted the expensive piece of jewelry.

It was about 2:50 in the afternoon. Yoongi sighed deeply. In all honesty, he was only agreeing to help with this because Hoseok was still upset with him and he was attempting to show the younger that he did care about Hoseok’s job. Even if it was only because Hoseok let him burn up the paper files after he saved them into the computer.

When the elevator came to a smooth stop and the doors soundlessly slid open, Yoongi swiftly exited and turned right, following the hallway down to Seokjin’s office door. He offered quick but feigned smiles to the, mostly female, workers walking around with stacks of papers, typing at desktops, and even a few women chatting off to the side in small groups during their break. There were a few suggestive glares thrown his way but he paid them no mind at all.

Getting to Jin’s office, Yoongi had began to just simply open the door without alerting Seokjin, but he stopped suddenly in his tracks and thought for a second. Did Namjoon get here yet? Because when the two were alone, they almost always were engaging in some type of ual activity. Yoongi understood, for the two were always busy with meetings, appointments, and responding to emails to ever have time for each other. But walking in on Namjoon ing Seokjin over the desk was the last thing he wanted to see. He had just eaten.

He attempted to recall whether or not Namjoon had left the penthouse with Jin or if he went to the meeting with their father first. When no memory came to mind, Yoongi decided to just knock. Slow, steady, and heavy so they knew that it was him.

“Hold on, Gi. Just a sec.” Seokjin’s voice was rough and a bit high pitched from the other side of the door, a dead giveaway of the fact that Namjoon was in fact in there.

“You guys are seriously fooling around when you’re supposed to be setting up everything for Hoseok’s mission? I don’t need him more upset than he already is.” Yoongi rolled his eyes.

In just a span of a few seconds, the knob began to fumble before the large door was wrenched open, revealing Seokjin who looked particularly descent while Namjoon was sitting at Jin’s brand new desk staring at Jin’s new laptop. The entire office was new.

After Seokjin barely defended himself against their dad’s four men a few months ago, Namjoon promised to refurbish the entire office so Jin wasn’t constantly reminded of that day. It was bad enough Seokjin had the scar on his face to remind him constantly that he could have been and killed, so Namjoon decided that the furniture needed to go. Instead of being decked in contemporary colors of silver, white, and black, it was renovated to look more warm and cozy in lieu of its usual professional atmosphere. It was an office solely for Seokjin anyway, why'd it need to be professional?

Yoongi nodded in approval at the new layout, commending his older brother for giving Seokjin the best because while Yoongi didn’t like Jin all of the time, the man deserved the best.

Yoongi glanced at the two again. They looked so descent and prompt that he questioned whether or not he made the right assumption about what the two were up to when he knocked.

Well. That was until he saw Jin’s glistening, swollen lips, deep red, flushed cheeks, and his disheveled hair as if someone had their hand weaved into it and yanked it a few times. “You’re disgusting, Jin,” Yoongi scoffed as he entered the room, heading directly for the large window that covered a large part of the wall to the right and the wall opposite from the door.

“Shut up, Yoongi. Don’t act like you don’t want to find out how good I am at it.” Jin tried to sound cocky and arrogant but his voice was too scratchy and wrecked to do anything more than barely whisper out his retort.

“Baby,” Namjoon warned, glaring at his lover over the top of his laptop screen. Jin only shrugged defiantly before shutting and locking the door and returning to Namjoon’s side behind the desk.

“Don’t worry, Joon. I do not by any means think of Seokjin in that way,” Yoongi reassured with a slight chuckle that pulled an affronted grimace from Jin’s lips. “I see him as too much of a parental figure for me to feel that way,” he continued, as he looked out of the large window. The frown on Jin’s face disappeared as quickly as it had come.

The casino was a pretty tall building and being that they were on the top and last floor, Yoongi had to strain his neck and eyes to actually see the ground, but he still managed to catch sight of Hoseok’s black hair brushed up to reveal his forehead-Yoongi’s favorite hairstyle on him- as he crossed the street and entered the cafe that the 7 Point Syndicate owned.

“I wasn’t worried, Yoongs. I just don’t want-”

Namjoon’s response was interrupted by a loud beeping from Namjoon’s phone that was face down on the systematically organized desk next to the laptop he was working on. Organized by Seokjin of course. Both men were quite skilled organization but were different and distinct in the way they did so. Namjoon was precise and followed a step by step method it seemed when he organized things. Seokjin’s organization was more of a system that changed along with whatever was being toyed with. So

It was like the two were meant for each other. Puzzle pieces, if you may.

Picking up the phone and looking at the caller ID, he announced, “It’s Jungkook. Him, Hoseok, and Taehyung are probably finished setting up.” Namjoon answered the phone and immediately put it on speaker for the three of them to hear.

“Talk to me, Kook,” Namjoon said, pushing the laptop away so he could focus on the mission at hand that started right on time. Yoongi brought up his wrist to check the time, reading 2:58. Looking up again, he caught Namjoon frowning at him heavily as if he wanted to smash the rolex watch to pieces.

Yoongi didn’t think much of it. Just because Namjoon didn't see the meaning in having expensive jewelry didn’t mean Yoongi couldn’t like it.

“I’m on the roof and in position,” Jungkook informed. Yoongi frowned. “Why isn’t Taehyung in charge of sniping. You know you’re bad at aiming, Kook.”

“Have some faith in me, Yoongi, damn. I’m sure I can do it.” A deep, annoyed sigh resounded through the speaker. “Hold on, let me connect Hoseok and Tae to the call.”

After a moment of shuffling on Jungkook’s end of the phone and a comment from Seokjin about hoping that Jungkook actually was able to accurately snipe his target if it came to that, two more distinct voices joined the call.

“Hoseok, here.”

“It’s Taehyung.”

Both introduced themselves like they always did when they were having a call like this during a mission. Even though they could easily tell who was who by their voices, introducing themselves as soon as they entered the call allowed them comfort that everyone was there and aware.

“Stances? Updates?” Jin asked as he maneuvered to sit on Namjoon’s lap who allowed it without any objections to the man. For the tenth time in the last ten minutes, Yoongi’s rolled his eyes.

“I’m behind the counter of the cafe and in uniform. All of the security cameras are set up to keep an eye on every inch of this place. I’m currently watching over Hoseok.” Taehyung was going undercover as an employee at their cafe to catch any suspicious looking people that would be part of an ambush of any sort. Suddenly, Yoongi understood why Jungkook decided to allow Taehyung to go undercover instead of sniping from the rooftop. Even though Taehyung had impeccable accuracy, almost as accurate as Yoongi, the boy was even better at reading people and would be able to easily identify someone with ill intentions as soon as they walked through the double doors of the Clover Cafe.

He made a mental note to praise Jungkook later for picking the success of the job over his huge, easily bruised ego.  

“And yes, my earpiece is secured and hidden,” Taehyung added shortly afterwards knowing that Namjoon or Seokjin was going to ask him anyway. It wasn’t that they wanted to make him feel inferior but only because Taehyung had once lost his earpiece in an unprecedented shoot out with one of those street gangs and disappeared for 24 hours. It caused Jungkook to panic at the thought of losing his best friend. The last thing Namjoon and Yoongi needed was Jungkook making countless mistakes because his mind was clouded with agony again.

“Promise?” Jin asked, like he was asking a child if they had truly cleaned their room before they were allowed to go outside and play.

“Promise.” Tae chuckled.

“What about you, Hoseok? Stance?”

“I’m sitting at one of the booths towards the corner, watching the people that come in and out. Also watching over Taehyung.” Hoseok’s voice was low in a whisper and determined, exactly how it always was when Hoseok was on the job. Yoongi found it hard to believe that this was also Hobi; the human epitome of the sun itself was also as badass as they came.

“Someone’s coming,” Jungkook said. “Tall, black hair, wearing sunglasses., in a suit.”

The line immediately went silent except for the strong breeze of the wind from Jungkook’s end of the call, being that he was on the roof. Yoongi walked a bit closer to the desk to hear better when he heard Taehyung’s voice ask the man what he would like to order in a polite voice. Only Taehyung and Jungkook could feign innocence so well that even Yoongi and Namjoon could be convinced that it was authentic with enough persuasion. Seokjin was never convinced because he knew the two of them all too well to be fooled.

When they heard the man mention that he would take the coffee to-go, they all glanced at the clock. 3:03. “Hoseok, what time did you tell the person to meet you there?” Yoongi doubled checked.

“Three o’clock sharp. I wouldn’t mess something like this up,” Hoseok uttered.

“Give it time, Yoongi,” Namjoon reassured. “Sit down. You’re worrying for nothing,” Jin followed, patting the chair next to him that he was once sitting in before deciding to take a seat on Namjoon’s thigh. Yoongi only grimaced and harshly threw himself into the cushioned chair.

Worrying wasn’t Yoongi’s thing. He wasn’t worried. He just wanted to find out the real intentions of this person and he was tired of waiting because if he were to wait too long, then he would’ve gotten nervous.

 

The next few moments were considerably quiet. There was only the sound of Taehyung taking orders, Jungkook complaining about the cold, steadily dropping temperatures and announcing anyone suspicious-looking walking into the cafe, and Yoongi’s sighing out of the lack of patience.

“Taehyung, tell us everyone inside of the cafe at the moment,” Namjoon ordered out of the blue, almost as if he had a sudden epiphany. After calling out a ‘thank you, have a great day’ to a departing customer, Taehyung listed all of the people one by one and their location. An elderly woman sitting close to the windows of the cafe who told Taehyung while taking her order that she was waiting for her son who just came home from a business trip. A group of teenage girls sitting in the booth and giggling to each other. Hoseok, of course. And two young college students who had recently ordered their third cups of coffee while working on some essay.

“A boy just walked in wearing an anti pollution mask. Seems to be looking around for someone,” Taehyung uttered, glancing over at Hoseok and back at the boy who was still standing in front of the door. The two of them watched the silver haired boy fumble with his fingers while searching around the cafe. When the boy caught Hoseok’s gaze and noticed that he was in fact sitting alone, he slowly made his way over, his eyes glued to the polished floors as he did so.

“Are you… you know… the computer message?” The boy asked. The corners of his eyes were tilted down in worry and the silver strands of his hair perfectly framing his face. Hoseok kept his face expressionless but was definitely shocked as he looked over the boy’s demeanor. Even with a mask on his face, Hoseok could tell that there was a little bit of fluff to the boy’s cheeks to match his small hands and his considerably short height, compared to Hoseok’s height at least.

“Sit down,” Hoseok advised, following his every movement.

“It’s him,” Taehyung said into his mic, absentmindedly toying with the coffee machine as the other employees moved around the small space behind the counter. Every other employee knew that Taehyung was working undercover for the day so he didn’t have to deal with peculiar, obnoxious looks from them because it looked like Taehyung was having a full blown conversation with the coffee maker.

“You mean that kid with the silver hair that walked in a few minutes ago?” Jungkook asked in disbelief. “He’s the one? I didn’t say anything because he looked completely harmless. Are you sure that’s him?”

“He’s surely sitting with Hoseok,” Taehyung whispered. He turned away from the coffee machine to discreetly look over at the Hoseok and the boy in a nearby booth.

“Kid?” Yoongi questioned finally. With just a few details of the fact that he was wearing a mask and that he had silver hair, Yoongi quickly imagined a young man in his mid twenties possibly with an intimidating glint to his eyes to match the mask and silver hair. So when Jungkook said ‘kid,’ that entire image diminished completely. It made it even harder to imagine what the boy looked like when he heard his voice through Hoseok’s mic.

“My name is Park Jimin.” The voice was muffled because of the mask and his distance from Hoseok’s mic but Yoongi could tell that his voice was soft, youthful and he talked with a distinct dialect.

“Look at the security cameras and see for yourself. He looks even younger than Jungkook,” Taehyung said. Namjoon immediately reached for the laptop that he had pushed away earlier. “Let me,” Jin sighed when he noticed Namjoon go about finding the security footage in a way that was completely unnecessary and time consuming. He lightly slapped Namjoon’s hands away and with just a few clicks and swipes at the mousepad, the security camera views were displayed on the screen. Jin angled it so the three of them could see exactly what the boy looked like.

He looked so incredibly innocent, almost as if he hadn’t had any interaction with the harsh realities of the world they lived in. He had no idea what he had just stumbled into.  

It was quiet between Hoseok and Jimin, neither of them saying anything but just staring. No doubt, Hoseok was shocked at the fact that this boy was possibly still a minor.

“Get to it, Hoseok,” Namjoon snapped impatiently. Yoongi glared at his older brother while Seokjin reached for Namjoon’s hand that was scratching at the polished dark brown wood of the office desk. Whether it was because he wanted Namjoon to calm down or he didn’t want his desk to get scratched, Yoongi was thankful for Jin because the sound of fingernails screeching against wood, no matter how quiet it was, was incredibly irritating to him.

“The name’s Hoseok. Let’s get straight to business, Jimin.” Hoseok’s voice was quiet but authoritative over the speaker. “Why were you in the database of the 7 Point? And you better not lie because I will not hesitate to put an end to this conversation and your life in just a few seconds. Now I advise you to tell the truth and the full truth.”

“I-I was doing a job for someone. They offered me a lot of money to hack into the system and change a few things.” The three men had leaned a bit closer to the phone to hear Jimin’s voice more clearly because the boy talked softly as it was even if he did try his best to be heard over the mask.

“Who?”

“A man. He went by some codename. A series of numbers and letters. He was from one of those gangs around Seoul and the Jung district.”

“I see.”

“Said that if I-”

“Tell him take off that damn mask,” Namjoon growled. “I can barely understand what the hell he’s saying.”

“The mask. Take it off,” Hoseok reiterated shortly, narrowing his eyes at Jimin as he interrupted him. Even though he was watching through a security camera, Yoongi easily noticed the way Jimin’s body tensed and went rigid, even more than it was before if that was even possible.

“I can’t. I have an immune system deficiency… I can’t breathe in too much unpurified air. It’s not SCID or anything… It’s mostly my respiratory system that’s affected hence why I wear the mask when I leave my house,” Jimin supplied, looking over at the employees behind the counters to avoid Hoseok’s intense gaze set strictly upon him.

Taehyung in particular, who had been watching in his peripheral, began pouring coffee into a mug to busy himself when he noticed Jimin looking his way.

“I feel bad about this,” Jungkook mumbled. Yoongi wanted to storm up those stairs to the roof and slap him so hard that Yoongi’s own hand would be throbbing from the force.

Nowadays, Jungkook had a bad feeling about everything lately. It was all because of his empathy that he questioned whether or not what Namjoon and Yoongi authorized was the right thing to do. But what the boy needed to learn, in Yoongi’s opinion, was that the mafia doesn’t do the right thing and didn’t need to. It wasn’t the 7 Point Syndicate’s job to do the right thing. They did whatever they needed to ensure that business ran smoothly and without error and that money was being made. It was so ironic that Jungkook had so much empathy; he had murdered several men before and didn’t complain about it even once. It was quite the opposite actually. He would celebrate and talk about his method of murder for several days until Jin told him to be quiet.

There was a bit of shuffling over the line and Yoongi immediately knew it was Jungkook. If Hoseok hadn’t began talking again, Yoongi would’ve threatened Jungkook and told him to stay in position because he knew the boy well enough to know that he moved away from his stance behind the sniper rifle.

“So there’s a respirator in that mask?” Hoseok asked Jimin meticulously.

“Yes.”

“Since you have an immune system deficiency, your parents must have some incredibly expensive respirators in your home to ensure that you can breath and stay healthy, correct?”

Yoongi had no idea what Hoseok was getting at but he trusted him enough to allow him to continue asking questions without him interfering. “Correct.”

“So why do you need so much money? If your parents could afford top notch respirators, than why are you in need of so much money that you’ll be willing to do something so illegal?” Hoseok’s tone was on the verge of mocking and serious curiosity. Jimin hesitated and looked towards his small fingers that were tapping unrhythmically against the black table sitting between him and Hoseok.

“My parents disappeared when I was sixteen. I’m nineteen now but… I haven’t been out of the house in years because of my deficiency. I needed money to survive without my parents’ income… So I decided to use hacking as a job to make money. Possibly even save enough money to get someone to find my parents one day.”

Yoongi, Namjoon, and Seokjin all sighed silently in tandem, all pulling their bottom lip between their teeth to refrain from speaking. After hearing Jimin’s brief story, they knew immediately that Hoseok was done for. The story was too close his own. Hoseok was only sixteen when he had been taken from his house at Bon-Hwa’s command because the 7 Point tracked him down after following the traces he left in the database. His parents had left him a few years before that and he lived with his older brother until he was taken.

Their father had been ready to kill Hoseok but with enough persuasion from Namjoon, Bon-Hwa decided to train Hoseok instead and use his skill. Now here Hoseok was.

“Jimin. I have to make a call really quickly,” Hoseok breathed out as if he was suddenly out of breath.

Yoongi watched the computer screen closely as Hoseok maneuvered out of the booth to stand up. “And I advise that you stay right there. Like I said earlier…” Hoseok leaned in close to Jimin’s ear. “I only need a few seconds to end your life for good.”

Though it was barely audible, they were able to vaguely hear Jimin shakily agree to stay seated. When Hoseok had successfully made his way into the single bathroom and locked the door behind him, he took a solid deep breath and pressed

“Namjoon-” Hoseok started.

“No, Hoseok. The answer is no,” Namjoon cut him off quickly before he could even continue to say more. “What are we going to do with the boy? He can’t even breath in ing air.”

“But he can hack well enough to get pass each of our five security walls that I configured. That takes some amazing skill, Joon.”

“I agree,” Jungkook spoke up, his voice a bit inaudible because of the wind picking up. “We could easily find something for him. All he’d need to do is wear that mask.”

“They have a point, baby. We did it for Hobi.” Seokjin said, shifting on the heir’s lap to look into his eyes. That’s usually how Jin got what he wanted from Namjoon. He held Jin’s gaze for a moment, not saying anything, before he moved to look at Yoongi who was unknowingly biting at the nail of his thumb while thinking. Noticing that Yoongi was in fact almost just gnawing on skin and not his fingernail, Namjoon and Jin both reached for Yoongi’s hand, catching his attention.

“I guess I agree. I mean, the boy is skilled. The highest police authorities can’t even get past our walls. If we don’t get him into our ranks, one of those street gangs or even the ing cops could find him and use him against us. We might as well make good use of him, right?” Yoongi said. Despite the fact that he was heavily doubting that this was the best decision, he was willing to take the risk. Because if it turned out horribly, Yoongi didn’t have a problem quickly putting a bullet in between Jimin’s perfect eyes.

“Okay. Since I’m outnumbered here… Hoseok, offer Jimin a place in the 7 Point Syndicate with excessive benefits if he would work for us. If he accepts it, bring him over to the casino and up to us so we can take a good look at him. Make it quick we don’t have all day.” With that, Namjoon ended the call.

 

 

When Hoseok had walked off, Jimin was sure that he would throw up right then and there. He wanted to run straight through those double doors and down the street without looking back. He knew he’d be killed. Probably sniped straight through the heart. But at the moment, Jimin was sure that getting a bullet through his chest would hurt a lot less than the yearning in his heart for his brothers and parents.

When he began to feel the familiar stinging behind his eyes, he wiped at his eyes furiously and balled his fists tightly to remind himself that he needed to stay strong. Yet again, Jimin felt someone’s gaze on him and he was sure it was that employee that was taking people’s orders behind the counter.

He hadn’t bothered to look up at the pretty boy at the counter. He hadn't looked up until he felt a presence looming over him. He was met with Hoseok scowling down at him. Standing over him was the man’s way to exert his dominance over Jimin and Jimin wanted to do nothing more than to stand up also. But for the sake of the mission, he stayed sitting, staring up at the man trepidatiously.

Upholding the gaze between the two of them, Hoseok didn’t make any move to sit down where he was once before. Jimin wondered if he had done something wrong.

“You need money, Jimin?”

“Y-yes.” While Jimin allowed himself to believe that he was stumbling over his words purposefully, he knew deep down that the intense apprehension in his tone and words weren’t all for pretend. He was quite afraid that he had ed something up already. “Well I have an offer for you that will help you tremendously. I want you to join the 7 Point Syndicate. I’ll make sure that the boss pays you well, and if you do well, I might even help you find your parents one day.”

Hoseok said this with a imperious deepness to his tone that Jimin didn’t like, but he hadn’t paid any mind to that. He had just accomplished the first part of his mission and he was honestly speechless. Then he thought of Baekhyun’s words to him while he was in the taxi. When you first get there, make sure you question everything and everyone until you are well trusted and respected. You never know what their real underlying motive may be.

So instead of allowing himself to feel that rush of pride, he stayed silent and looked at Hoseok closely. Jimin couldn’t be too cynical but he couldn’t allow himself to seem naive and gullible either because then no one would want to work with him or think highly of him. He had to prove himself despite his hinderance, both his ‘sickness’ and his innocence.

“Are you trying to set me up to get me killed? Jimin questioned from under his mask, ensuring his voice was firm. Well, as firm as a supposedly timid, afraid nineteen year old could be. “Why do you want me of all people? Someone who can’t even breathe in unpurified air.”

“I’m not trying to hurt you. And I want you because you obviously have skills. You broke past five security walls, all of which were built by me. I want you to help me, Jimin. The 7 Point Syndicate even more of an empire with skills like yours.”

The way Hoseok said his name made Jimin’s breath hitch. The dominance dripping from every word that left his lips was intensifying and it intimidated him. But he did his best to stand his ground, wondering if this was the way they got all of their workers on their side.

“What will we do if I were to say yes?” Jimin inquired. Hoseok smirked, obviously pleased with the boy’s questions.  Jimin supposed it was because he was satisfied to see that Jimin wasn’t naive and wouldn’t just jump into a circumstance without thinking, analyzing, and asking questions before acting. While Hoseok wouldn’t know this, Jimin was proud to say that it was just how Jimin was raised to be, thanks to his mother.

“I’d take you across the street and into that casino. We’d go to the top floor and I’ll present you to Young Master Namjoon and his brothers and see what they think of you. If they like you, consider yourself lucky.” Hoseok smirked at the end, seemingly amused at the thought of Bon-Hwa’s sons taking a liking to him. Jimin frowned under his mask at Hoseok’s word choice.

‘Present him to Namjoon.’

He sounded more like a gift to Namjoon instead of a recruit. An object instead a living, breathing human. But he guessed that was what the men of the 7 Point Syndicate was to Namjoon and his brothers. Nothing but pieces on the chessboard for them to make moves and sacrifice for the sake of the game. For the sake of earning a victory over the opposing side.

“Can I work with you then?” Jimin found himself blurt out suddenly. He wanted to work in hacking because that was where he could find most of the information and it was his area of expertise. Jimin was sure Hoseok worked somewhere near computers and technology in general just like Minseok did because Hoseok had mentioned that he had constructed those firewalls Jimin broke down. Jimin needed to work under Hoseok for this mission to go smoothly.

Hoseok chuckled. “You’ve taken a liking to me already, kid?”

“N-no…”  Just for effect, Jimin didn’t say anything else. He wanted to give the older time to think over his proposition. He’d done it enough times to Baekhyun and Jongin to know that giving it a few moments of silence worked more times than not.

He let it stay quiet for a second, purposefully picking with his fingers until he heard Hoseok sigh, a sign that he’d given in. “I’ll do what I can to make sure you’re working under me, alright.”

“Thank you,” Jimin smiled. Despite half of his face being hidden behind a mask, the fact that his eyes disappeared into thin lines let Hoseok know that the boy was smiling. Jimin knew he found it endearing. Even if Hoseok’s face stayed hard, his eyes softened just a bit.

Jimin just had this charm about him.

“So?” Hoseok raised his brow, tapping his foot as he placed a firm hand on the table.

“I’ll do it.”

“Well follow me, Park Jimin.”

Jimin wasted no time standing up to follow Hoseok out of the doors of the cafe. As he stepped outside, he felt his eyes begin to water immediately due to the sudden shift of temperature from warm to cold. Jimin stayed behind Hoseok instead of walking beside him to further feed into the man’s obvious desire to be in control and in a position of authority. The walk across the street seemed to take an hour instead of just a minute of two. It was possibly Jimin’s nerves that made the world seem to stop spinning on its axis. The temperature felt like it had dropped a full twenty degrees in just seconds. Jimin shivered.

He was snatched, quite literally, from his thoughts, when he felt a hand harshly wrap around his elbow and he was wrenched forward. “Pay attention. Be alert,” Hoseok demanded as he hauled Jimin across the street, his hand still firmly grasping the boy’s elbow. Hoseok hadn’t let go until they were entering the tall, golden, elaborate doors of the Lucky 7 casino; the grand doors embellished with traditional Korean dragons carved into the material.

When they entered, Jimin found himself marveling at the surplus of glowing, multicolored lights and the several different colors that complimented the gold that embroidered the cream colored pillars that were strategically placed all over the casino. There was loud, indistinct chatter filling the atmosphere and smiling people dressed in expensive clothing from head to toe. While Jimin knew that he most likely shouldn’t be gaping in awe at his surroundings, he couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away from the lights in particular as Hoseok led him the elevator in the middle of the casino floor. To Jimin, the lights were breathtaking. He’d never seen something like this before. Jimin, himself, didn’t even know what was so striking about the bright, colorful lights but he didn’t question it. He just enjoyed it.

Jimin vaguely heard the ding of the elevator because of the sudden loud ka-ching of some machine close by that rang in tandem with the elevator. Hoseok only let go of Jimin’s elbow when they entered the elevator, that was completely transparent on the other three sides of the cubicle, and he pressed the 5th floor button. Despite trying to resist the urge, Jimin found himself staring out of the elevator again at the brightness.

“I see you like the lights.” Hoseok’s voice wasn’t as hard as it was before. Jimin whipped his head around so quickly that he was silently thanking God that he didn’t catch whiplash or hurt his neck. He noticed that Hoseok’s face stayed hardened and expressionless even though his tone softened.

“Yeah… I’ve never seen something like this before. It’s pretty.” Jimin chuckled at himself under the mask. He sounded so freaking childish. He might as well have yelled, “Hoseokkie, look at the pretty lights!”

“I know someone who really likes the lights of Seoul at night.” Now Hoseok’s hard expression was softening at the mentioning of this ‘someone.’ “He said that after he ‘destroyed’ his old life, he wandered into Seoul when the sun was going down. He’d said that the first thing he noticed when he arrived in the central part of Seoul was the bright, glowing, flashing lights… I might’ve taken a liken to them to after knowing him for so long.”

Jimin wondered if Hoseok was even talking to him anymore or if he was just reminiscing out loud. To make matters even more confusing, Jimin didn’t even know how to respond. So he was eternally grateful when the elevator came to a stop and the doors opened. Hoseok exited the elevator with a very brief look over Jimin’s appearance. Jimin followed close behind.

All of the shapely women only seemed to take notice of Hoseok because as they passed the women, they only acknowledged Hoseok’s presence. Not even sparing Jimin a glance. He felt almost invisible. When they approached the considerably large door at the end of the hallway, Hoseok knocked twice before pushing the door open without waiting for confirmation that he could enter.

Twisting the golden knob of the mahogany wooden door, Hoseok ushered Jimin in. If he was being completely honest with himself, Jimin was burning up and was sure he might even pass out as he shakily obliged and stepped into the room. It was a combination of his nerves, his pounding heart, and this mask that rendered the boy unable to breathe correctly. The room was more of a home office than an actual professional office which, usually, would’ve calmed Jimin a bit, but it did nothing of the sort.

Not knowing what else to do, Jimin just stood there in the middle of the room as he was looked over and closely examined like piece of meat from a grocery store by three men situated behind a dark, mahogany desk that matched the door in a way. Only one of the men were actually sitting in a chair, his face rigid and intimidating with his blond hair swept up and back. The sides shaved. Another man with black hair that fell just over his left eye was sitting on his lap, smiling almost endearingly at Jimin. The last man had been leaning over the desk but moved to stand behind the others when Hoseok and Jimin entered the room. He was about Jimin’s height with blond hair.

Jimin recognized all of the men immediately. With an impeccable memory, he had long ago remembered the identities of these men. There was Namjoon, the heir and oldest son. Seokjin, his lover that the heir by no means ever tried to hide. Then there was Yoongi, the middle brother. Jimin could’ve sworn there was three brothers.

Out of the three of them, Yoongi had been staring the hardest at Jimin. Burning a hole into Jimin’s chest and agitating his nerves even further while Jimin stood there with both of his hands pressed against the small of his back. He suddenly considered running back out of the door. Was it too late to back out of this mission?

As soon as the door clicked shut, Namjoon had began talking almost as if some metaphorical timer had gone off. “Park Jimin?”

Jimin was only able to blink and press his fingernails further into his palms to warn himself to stay alert because the man’s voice was intimidating enough- to him at least- to have Jimin struggling to breathe. Not only was it his voice but it was the fact that Namjoon already knew his name. Was he being set up? Did they already know what Jongin and Baekhyun had planned and just played into their hands to kill him? Most importantly. Had he failed his brothers?

Jimin blinked several times as he tried to think of something, anything to say.

“Y-yeah…”

“Welcome,” the man, Jimin recognized as Seokjin, said, toying with Namjoon’s fingers almost absentmindedly. Namjoon watched his lover closely while he continued speaking.

“Hoseok’s told me a bit about you.” Jimin regained just a small bit of his ability to breath when those words fell from Namjoon’s lips in a low, husky voice. Not one of dominance but a voice more of subtle yet overbearing authority. It reminded him of Jongin. But with Jongin, Jimin had always felt safe from the world when he heard his voice. Yet here he was, thrown into the deep depths of this cruel reality, instead, to fend for himself with only a month’s worth of skill.

“Sit down,” Seokjin cooed. Jimin watched Seokjin intertwine his and Namjoon’s fingers. It seemed that without even thinking about it, Namjoon interlocked his strong fingers with Seokjin’s slender ones. “Hoseok, get him a chair please while he wait for those two.”

Jimin had been fighting with himself to hold Namjoon’s gaze and he was desperately losing to his own fear, so he took that chance to glance over his shoulder and watch Hoseok obediently drag a chair and place it in front of Namjoon’s desk. Jimin had somewhat hoped that Hoseok would glance at him for just a mere second and give him a reassuring look. Tell him with no words at all that he would be okay.

But that was Chanyeol and Baekhyun that did that for Jimin. Not Hoseok. Hoseok didn’t give two s if Jimin was dying on the inside. Hoseok didn’t even spare him a glance. Hoseok had just gone to stand next to Yoongi who was still silently staring at Jimin from behind Namjoon. The fact that no one was here to comfort him hurt Jimin a little. Enough to have him grimacing heavily under his mask.

Jimin quickly and quietly made his way to sit in the tan cushioned chair, planting his hands firmly on his knees and his back pressed flush against the cushion of the chair. Seokjin frowned at this and stood up from his spot on Namjoon’s lap to round the desk to advance on Jimin. Namjoon seemed like he was about to say something but he didn't. He just silently watched Seokjin.

“Relax.” Seokjin ordered, when he was looming over Jimin’s sitting figure. Unlike Hoseok, Seokjin crouched down so Jimin didn’t have to strain his neck to look into the man’s eyes and there were at the same eye level. Despite finding it quite hard, Jimin managed to maneuver enough to at least look as if he had relaxed a bit.

“Why should he relax? This isn’t some therapy session.” Yoongi’s nonchalant voice startled Jimin a bit. He’d wanted to look over at Yoongi, but he could already hear the frown on his lips. Also, Seokjin’s bright eyes were the only bit of comfort in the room right now and he never wanted to let go. So Jimin continued to stare at Seokjin instead.

“Because I said so,” Seokjin retorted sharply. When Yoongi only sighed in annoyance as a response, Seokjin ignored it. “Take off your mask. I guarantee you the air in here is as pure as can be. I’m too valuable to not have respirators in my office.” Seokjin chuckled. Jimin found it pleasant.

“Are you sure?”

“1000%”

For some reason, Jimin felt like he could trust him. He’d remembered Baekhyun’s words about not trusting anyone until he knew for sure that he could, and he wanted follow those words.. He truly did. But Seokjin looked so… genuine. Jimin was sure that Seokjin was older than him but he didn’t think Seokjin would hurt anyone. But this could all be a facade. Just like Jimin was a facade. An artifice.

Jimin reached behind his head to undo the mask with shaking fingers. Even though he knew that it was 98% guaranteed that they wouldn’t recognize him, Jimin still feared that this situation would be that rare 2%. Because it wasn’t 100%.

The room was silent as he let the mask fall from his face and he cradled it in his hand. While staring down at his clammy hands, Jimin heard Seokjin laugh. “Thank God.” When he looked up, Seokjin was laughing but was looking over at Hoseok, Namjoon, and Yoongi who all looked perplexed at his laughter.

“What?”

“He’s not ugly. He's actually very handsome. You have no idea how much I hate looking at our men, all of them look like they’ve been hit by a car at some point in their lives. As if the car hit them straight in the face. That’s why I hire mostly females, they’re really nice to look at… Like me.” Seokjin continued to giggle.

Jimin searched over the other men’s faces and found that Hoseok was the only one who had remotely smiled. He was sure that was because he was standing behind Namjoon and next to Yoongi so his smirk wasn’t able to be seen by either of them. Jimin had to admit that he was also perplexed by Seokjin’s behavior and personality. Mostly because it didn’t seem like a facade. It seemed too real to be fake.

Namjoon and Yoongi only grunted as Seokjin continued to look over Jimin’s face, even lightly caressing his cheek, until the sound of the door being opened interrupted him. All of them moved to look at the door as two men walked in. The two they must’ve been waiting for.

Jimin recognized one of the men as the pretty boy behind the counter at the cafe and the other man from countless pictures and profiles given to him by Minseok to memorize. Jungkook.

“Sorry, we’re late. Taehyung wanted to change clothes,” Jungkook supplied, shutting the door behind them. Namjoon only nodded his head in acknowledgement as Jungkook and ‘Taehyung’ made their way to stand with Hoseok and Yoongi.

“Come here, Jin,” Namjoon said shortly. With reluctance written on his face along and his face twisting up, Seokjin stood, with one last grin to Jimin before he obeyed. Now it was the six of them staring at Jimin. A single desk separating them and Jimin. Them against him.

Jimin felt so, so small. So inferior to the six of them.

“Now that everyone is here,” Namjoon began. “Do you know why you’re here?”

“Um… Hoseok told me about a job with… the 7 P-Point Syndicate.” Jimin hated stuttering and stumbling over his words but he didn’t bother to even scold himself. He just allowed himself to feel… scared. Anxious and afraid.

“Do you know what the 7 Point Syndicate is?”

“Yes, sir,” Jimin uttered.

“What is it?”

“It’s a m-mob based here in South Korea. I’ve heard about it on the n-news a few times.”

“Good.” Namjoon’s deep voice was easily filled with praise. Jimin basked in it subconsciously despite feeling like a child because of it. “Now, the majority of people in this room believe you’ll be a great asset to us. You’re hacking skills are superb and is almost on the same level as our main hacker’s. That’s why I’m offering you a job with the us. A place in our family. You’ll get benefits of all kind. Financial benefits, stability in life, respect, and most of all, power. Now, Jimin… Do you accept this offer?”

Namjoon leaned forward onto the desk as if to only pressure Jimin more. But he wasn’t the only one. Seokjin had given a small smile full of… something Jimin couldn’t put a name to. Jungkook, Taehyung, and Hoseok seemed to stare even harder than they were before. Jungkook and Taehyung unusually pressed together at the shoulder. Yoongi just looked. It was almost impossible to read what Yoongi was feeling as he stared Jimin down and that made Jimin feel a bit lightheaded. Only thing he could read was the fact that Yoongi was holding his breath.

“Yes… I do.” Jimin clutched the mask in between his fingers to somehow get them to stop trembling and give himself some type of stability. He looked down at his hands for a second.

“Good. Well you might as know that we are the head of the 7 Point Syndicate. We are in charge of everything that goes on here. I’m Namjoon. This is my lover, Seokjin. My two brothers, Jungkook and Yoongi. And our most well trusted men, Taehyung and Hoseok. Got that?”

Jimin nodded slowly, swallowing thickly. He couldn’t vomit now. He would ruin everything if he did. He wanted to sit up straight and put some confidence in his posture but it seemed that this role was doing him some good. The role of the innocent, anxious nineteen year old with a disorder that didn't realize his potential. A nineteen year old that had been locked in a house for ten years and knew nothing about the world. Completely free to be molded and shaped in whatever way they wanted Jimin to be.

“Good.” When Jimin looked up, he was met with a smirk plastered on Namjoon’s lips. One that was identical to Seokjin’s. “Welcome to the 7 Point Syndicate, Park Jimin.”

 

“Okay, okay, okay.” Jimin repeated that one word repeatedly like some mantra between his sharp heaves of breaths  as he tried to stop the constant supply of tears falling from his eyes. The boy was on the floor of his new living room letting out all of the tears that had built up since Baekhyun dropped him off in front of the Clover Cafe this evening.

Seokjin had ordered Hoseok to drive Jimin ‘home’ after the meeting with Namjoon. Even though Jimin insisted constantly that he could take a taxi home, Hoseok still wound up driving Jimin home in a Mercedes Maybach. He’d almost forgotten to put his mask back on before they left the building but was saved by Yoongi grumbling quietly to him that he could so he ‘didn’t die before Jimin could do any real work.’

The car ride with Hoseok was silent except for Jimin occasionally telling Hoseok the directions to his little home outside of central Seoul which didn’t bother Jimin much. He enjoyed staring out of the window at sights that he’d never seen before. Specifically the lights that were full of optimism.

Jimin was sure he had calmed down from the day’s events when he had extended a thank you to Hoseok and entered the house. But as soon as Jimin locked the door and removed his anti pollution mask, he had burst into a fit of loud, hysterical tears as he sank to the floor. He didn’t know why but he knew that he just needed to cry. Jimin forced himself not to think of his brothers. He forced himself so hard but he failed.

The boy cried until he was sniffing excessively, coughing loudly, dry heaving, and even crying until he couldn’t cry tears anymore. Jimin just… let himself waddle in pity for a few minutes. He did just that until there were firm knocks on his front door he was leaning against.

“Jimin… Open the door.” Was that Jungkook’s voice? “Let us help you.”