a game.

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Arriving in front of an apartment complex, Akira scanned the address given by her acquaintance. She recalled the invite from Ms. Kim, but she didn’t expect such a rushed event. Nonetheless, the reporter had been dying for content since Sehun’s story died out. This may just be the perfect opportunity to ignite the story once more. Akira spotted a metal number plaque matching up to the one in her address. She pushed the doorbell twice before stepping back to wait for the owner. Ms. Kim ecstatically answered the door with a welcoming smile plastered on her face. 


“You’ve made it!” the woman beamed happily as she let Akira in. 


They indulged themselves in a casual conversation but it didn’t take long for the witty reporter to catch on quickly from surrounding clues. The shoes scattered at the doorsteps looked as if there had been some sort of conflict that caused those to be thrown around like that. Her nose instantly crinkled at the sight of a lazy clean up job. A trail of suspicious, smeared blood droplets on the white floor left a huge red flag for the reporter to withdraw. Akira took the opportunity to quietly retreat as the woman in front continued chatting casually with her back turned. 


“You’re not planning to leave the party early, are you? It barely started...” Ms. Kim expressed in an ever-so monotonous tone that instantly sent a rush of chills down the reporter’s spine. 


Wasting no time to make her escape, Akira picked up her pace as she ran for the door. Cursed by the small proximity between them, Ms. Kim easily got a hold of her long locks and used it to yank the girl back in. A painful groan escaped her victim’s lips, pleading the woman not to harm her. Another forceful tug sent Akira down with her captor hovering over dangerously. The edge of her lips formed a slight frown as she wrapped the reporter’s hair around the palm of her hand.  


“I know you’re excited for the party, but let’s not get too loud…the neighbors might complain,” Ms. Kim shushed her. 


Putting an end to the reporter’s troublesome cries, she clasped a hand over Akira’s mouth while injecting her with the sedative she already had on hand. The dealer wasn’t kidding when he warned her about the strong drug. Luckily she complied, overdosing these two would do her no good as they were merely tools for her main event.


After a good hour of setting up the two drugged out girls to her liking, Ms. Kim made sure to snap a photo of an unconscious Haemi for leverage. Once satisfied, she sent Sehun the photo along with a fair warning. And of course— as expected from the lovestruck writer, he arrived much earlier than she anticipated. To continue with tonight’s family reunion theme, Ms. Kim neatly straightened out a newly changed outfit. Her ruby knitted dress gave off a festive look, a huge upgrade from her bloodstained blouse.


With a warm smile, she greeted Sehun at the door and in her possession, an illegally smuggled hand gun that she used to motion him in. A burning animosity stood, fist clenched tight enough to see the whites of his knuckles protruding through. He heard a faint scoff from the woman, who found it rather comedic. 


She laughed, “Save your energy, dear. It’s going to be a long night.” 


Closing the door behind them, Ms. Kim had the writer walk in front while pinning the weapon directly at his lower spine. For now, he’ll just have to remain calm, knowing how unpredictable this woman can be. He didn’t want to do anything that may potentially trigger her madness. His feet automatically paused at the horrendous scene in the living room— Haemi, who was conscious now, bound and gagged to a chair with an unconscious Akira by her side. What is this woman planning, he wondered.


“Stay still and don’t move an inch. If you do, this bullet goes straight through her.”


The threat was enough to keep Sehun rooted at his spot. Now isn’t the time to act rational, especially with that gun in her hand. He watched anxiously as she made her way over to Haemi, the muffled cries could be heard through the gag. Sehun momentarily shook his head to send a signal for his ex-wife to stop struggling. 


“Stop being so dramatic, for crying

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