17

“Good evening, miss Kim,” Leeteuk greets when Hara tiredly trudges into the foyer. He takes her coat and visibly tries not to frown when he sees her red rimmed eyes and pink nose. 

“Had to stay behind for group work,” Hara mumbles while kicking off her shoes, “is Jungkook home?”

“The young master is in the dining hall with the rest of the family. Dinner is about to be served, miss, you made it just in time.” 

Hara fixes her shoes and then straightens up. “I’m not really hungry, but thanks anyways.”

She offers him a small smile and then leaves, eyes alert as she makes her way through the living room in the direction of the staircase. 

Once in the privacy of her room, Hara decides to take a shower and hopefully wash away all the bull of the day. Her shoulders are still heavy with guilt and the newfound knowledge about her psychotic stepbrother when she steps out of the bathroom.

She changes into her pajamas and blow dries her hair, and once she’s done applying her night cream, a gentle knock on the door startles her out of her thoughts. 

“I’m not hungry, Leeteuk,” Hara calls from the vanity, but there’s another knock and she sighs and walks over to the door, unlocking it. Jungkook is boredly staring at her, a plate in hand. “I said that I’m not hungry.” 

Hara tries closing the door but Jungkook places his free hand against it and prevents it from locking shut. Hara bites back anger and glares up at Jungkook. 

“What do you want?” 

“Father said you have to eat this,” he says, lifting the plate a little higher, and Hara quickly grabs it and once more tries to close the door but Jungkook stops her again, except this time he enters the room and locks the door behind him. 

“I don’t like being watched while I eat.” Hara can feel fear bubbling in her belly, along with frustration and annoyance, but she tries not to show it and tilts her head backwards so she can look Jungkook in the eyes. “If this is another one of your es you’ll be glad to know there’s a whole community of people like you on youtube.” 

“What did Min tell you?” Jungkook says, tone hard but his features are calm and bored. 

Hara knows better than that and she tries to keep the situation under control because it’s eight p.m. and the door to her room is locked. Chances of him possibly murdering her for what she did today are quite high right now. 

“The truth.” Okay, maybe not the best thing to say. Jungkook’s jaw clenches and he takes a step closer. 

“Which version?” he murmurs, and Hara holds the plate up to her chest to force some room between them as she takes a step back. 

“The version you haven’t ed with.” She swallows the knot that has formed in the back of and forces down the sudden urge to heave. “Yoongi had stopped using drugs before transferring to your college, you pretended to be okay with him entering your group of friends just to reintroduce him to coke after you read his file.”

Hara can hear her heart pounding in her ears. 

“You were gonna frame him for the drugs, but you realized it wouldn’t cut it for your dear troubled-kids-just-need-some-help-father who’s one of the chairmen at the school, so you decided to involve Jimin.” Hara shakes her head and stares at Jungkook through a fog of anger. “Jimin loved to dance and Yoongi loved to produce music, what’s a better place for such aspiring souls than a nightclub where no one judges and everything is possible?”

Hara finds it impressive how Jungkook has stayed calm this whole time, and she has half the mind to throw the contents of the plate she’s holding against his face. 

“Kim Namjoon, one of Yoongi’s friends from the past works as an underground rapper and a part time druggie. You conveniently decided to celebrate your birthday at a nightclub he frequented. Hoseok and Taehyung never got the invite, but Jimin and Yoongi did.”

Hara accusingly arches an eyebrow and blinks away tears. 

“Yoongi relapsed faster than you were anticipating, and Jimin’s experimenting became a habit every friday night. You ed up two lives, Jungkook, you pretended to be Yoongi’s friend but speculated to the boys behind his back. You ruined their lives because you couldn’t handle another member in your little group, could you?"

Jungkook's jaw ticks in anger. Hara briefly wonders if she's dying tonight. 

"You just couldn’t accept change. Isn't that why you’re retaking a year? Just to be on the same page as the boys so you graduate at the same time, so you can continue controlling their ing lives.”

“How can you be sure this version isn’t a lie?” Jungkook asks through gritted teeth, and Hara hates how intimidated she feels. 

“Because Yoongi’s got proof.”

Jungkook blinks, his face going slack for a moment, obviously caught off guard, and Hara finds a little satisfaction in finally having the upperhand over the psychopath in front of her. 

“What proof?” 

“I’m not stupid, Jeon,” Hara mutters, shaking her head, “I’m not blowing any whistles. All I’m gonna say is that Yoongi has had a solid foundation for a fat lawsuit this whole time.”

Jungkook keeps staring at her, obviously halfway lost in thought, and Hara revels in the discomfort and panic she sees in his eyes. 

It seems like he only uses his eyes to express his emotions, because the rest of his features are neutral. To anyone else he’d look bored.  

“I wonder what made him bury the case,” Hara whispers, trying to keep anger out of her voice, “the broken friendship between him and you guys, or the boys you occasionally send over to kick him into submission.” 

Jungkook’s eyes snap out of their daze and he looks alarmed. Hara scoffs. 

“You really think I wouldn’t figure it out? You sent them today, Jungkook, and I wonder how many times those boys have tried breaking Yoongi’s ribs because you’ve felt a sudden bout of anger.” 

“You have no proof I’ve done any of these things,” Jungkook says, his hands clenched into fists by his sides, “and let me kindly remind you of what you’ve been hiding this whole time.”

Hara feels her heart rise to . “My secret is a pebble compared to your mountain of bull, Jeon. You’ve almost killed, Jungkook, I’ve tried to survive.” 

“I did it to protect them,” Jungkook growls, and Hara blinks in surprise, fear sending an adrenaline rush through her veins, “everything I’ve done was for their own good, it was to keep them out of trouble.”

“What kind of trouble can someone who’s got nothing to his name but a desperate wish to start over cause?”

Jungkook doesn’t reply. 

Hara knows it’s late but she honestly cannot do this anymore. She places the plate on the nightstand next to her bed and grabs her phone. 

“Where the hell are you going?” Jungkook angrily grabs Hara’s arm when she moves past him and whips her around. “What the hell are you doing, Kim?”

“Getting as far away from you as I ing can,” Hara snaps, ripping her arm out of his grip, wincing when a sharp pain shoots up to her shoulder, “ing psychopath.”

“What did you call me?” 

“A psychopath,” Hara barks, stepping backwards when Jungkook moves closer, fury burning in his narrowed eyes, “you control and manipulate people just to get what you want. I can’t believe you turned out like this with Yunho raising y-.”

Hara gasps when Jungkook suddenly pushes her against the closed door, her head throbbing in pain, but she doesn’t have the chance to be miserable because Jungkook cages her in. 

“Don’t speak about my father like that,” he warns, “don’t you ing drag his name into this.”

“Your father?” Hara arches an eyebrow and tries not to wince from the pain shooting up the back of her head, “I haven’t mentioned your father once tonight, Jungkook. I don’t even know his name.”

Jungkook looks like he just saw a ghost. 

His eyes widen for a split second before he blinks, and for the first time fear takes over every single feature on his face, even his shoulders hunch up slightly. 

Bingo. 

“Yoongi knows more than you think, Jungkook, and he wasn’t afraid to share it with me.” Hara grins through tears of pain. “Guess what, buddy? I’ve got leverage on you now. Good luck trying to get in my way without being pulled down with me.”

Hara harshly pushes him away and leaves the room as fast as she can, and she barely remembers to put on her boots before stepping out into the cold night.

It’s too late to go back for a jacket, but she forgets to worry about that when she receives a text from Yoongi, asking if everything went fine with the psycho at home. 

As she waits for the boy to come and pick her up on his motorcycle, Hara mentally thanks herself for telling Yoongi everything about her situation.

And as she rolls her eyes when the boy grumpily wraps his leather jacket around her before forcing her arms firmly around his waist, Hara smiles against his shoulder and lets the wind blowing her hair all over the place soothe her buzzing nerves.

They ride to the outskirts of the town where Yoongi’s one-room apartment is located, and Hara briefly wonders how two lonely and broken souls in a town filled with so many people managed to connect so easily.

Not that she’s complaining. 

“I can barely feel my arms, you ing moron,” Yoongi calls over the roar of the engine.

Hara grins, tightening her grip around his waist to hopefully transfer some of her body heat through his thin sweater.

Yeah, she doesn’t mind at all.