The room was spinning.

She is on her knees clutching the floor, almost kissing it. The heavy smell of disinfectant and bleach floods her nose and she gags.  Her head was pounding as she grappled with her senses, trying to tell left from right. A sharp stabbing sensation exploded behind her eyes and she doubles over, crying out in pain.

“Sunnie!!” A shuffling of feet, then gentle hands that lift her up off the cold hard floor and back onto the warm bed. “Are you alright? Did you hurt yourself?” She gripped her head and whimpered, eyes clenched tight, unable to form anything coherent.

“I cant give you any more morphine dear, Im sorry. So please bear with it.” The gentle hands made circles on her back, trying to reassure her.

“What were you doing? Was there something that you wanted?”

She sobs and calls for her brother. “Andrew…”

She continues crying and he sighs. “Hana! Hana come here!” The nurse came hurrying at his call. “Yes, doc?” He motions toward Sunnie and Hana immediately rushes to her side.

“If the pain doesn’t subside in the next hour, give her a shot ok?” She looks up at him, worry crinkling her forehead. “We don’t have anymore. You gave her was the last of it this morning, remember?”

Anthony gets up and rubs his face. He looks haggard, heavy eye bags and stubble apparent on his pale skin. If not for his uniform, one might mistake him as a patient instead. He scratches the back of his neck. “I’ll go make some more.”

Hana’s frown deepened. “Are you going where I think you’re going?” Hes already undressing, pulling out a hoodie and an old beaten baseball cap. “Just… Please be careful. The cops are on high alert since that mansion blew up.” Anthony smoothed down his hair and put on his cap. “I know.”

It was surreal watching that scene on the morning news. The famous David Moon’s posh mansion was shown to be in rubbles, blackened and charred as the firefighters hosed down the remaining flames. The police investigating said there is the possibility of foul play, but no one knows why anyone would have the motive to attack the transportation industry tycoon. Anthony puckered his lips. He knows why.

Anthony Jung is a local general practitioner with framed certificates hanging on the walls of his office in his little clinic, all of which he has attained courtesy of sponsorship from the famous Valkyrie Inc. Or honestly, the criminal gang Vulture. In truth, the respectable doctor was a founding member of Vulture. He dealt with narcotics, producing hallucinogens and stimulants for sale on the streets. It funded his education and lifestyle, and he enjoyed it. But his reality was turned upside down when TSK, a bigger rival gang back then, ambushed his house, killing his family. Anthony swore revenge, but Vulture at the time was weak, small and insignificant compared to TSK. That was when David introduced him. Or her rather…

Long story short, it was thanks to that person's help that TSK was eradicated. Their base, an abandoned warehouse, was burnt to the ground along with all the members trapped in by a shiny padlock. The news broadcasted it as a horrible accident, a prank gone wrong. But that was thanks to Nick’s hand manipulating the report. However, the other gangs have caught on that it was Vulture that erased TSK. And from then on, Vulture earned a fearsome reputation that even the authorities were wary of.

He exhales tiredly. Anthony had cut almost all ties with Vulture. There were protests in the beginning when he announced his intention to leave the gang. But eventually, the group respected his decision and allowed him to go on his own path. He doesn’t hear from any of them since then. Until one day David showed up at his door, now a business executive, champagne in hand to celebrate Anthony’s graduation. David had even helped with the logistics and funding of his little clinic. “Just a teeny present for my old friend.” He had winked back then, and Anthony knew this was out of his own pocket.

He had tried contacting the man when he saw the report. He even tried calling Nick’s old number. But it was no longer in use and Anthony fretted, regretting that he deleted the other members' numbers.

Sometimes, he misses those wild days. Misses the thrill of fighting with rival gangs, an army against their little dozen. Misses the company lazing in their pile of assorted stash and goodies, playing childish games with each other. Misses the times he rode shotgun in Nick’s restored convertible, screaming at the top of his lungs whenever Nick accelerated dangerously, David kicking the back of his seat to shut him up. Misses listening to the happy shrieks of people scrambling below when they throw the superfluous cash and counterfeits over rooftops.

He misses the money. He’s spread thin and the clinic has gone over-budget. He could only call for favours so many times. That’s how he started the trade with her, Oreonette. The clinic wouldn’t have been able to stay afloat otherwise.

Red lips, shining eyes. A ily fitted dress over muscular and toned body. Petit yet bold. Oreonette was just a screen name. Only the founding members of Vulture had the luck to meet her in the flesh. She claims to be a soloist, and controls an extensive network of information at her fingertips. Anthony knows she had worked with other gangs before. Hell, she was the one who told TSK of Vulture’s drug production factory; his family’s basement. He remembers bitterly how flippantly she confessed about it to Vultures, and Anthony would have killed her had the others not held him back.

175, he looks up the flat and notices a man watching him through a grimy window. The man moves away after signalling him up. Anthony clenches his jaw. He enters the rundown apartment and makes his way up the stairs. He is doing this for Sunnie, he tells himself. But the truth is, wasn’t he just going back to his roots?

~

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((thanks again MKNisk for the upvote!!))

(mr shin w stubble... i still cannot picture it lol)

(((btw, to get a feel of Oreonette pls watch this https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BKozNRbo0SI jebal i almost died when i saw him OTL)))