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Chapter 9 : Madness

"I'm tired. Go home." I grab my water bottle and sling my long ponytail from my face.

The dance studio connected to my house isn't good enough to teach trainees that have only been four months into it but the fact that it's inadequate doesn't stop us for a second.

"Thanks so much for giving us a chance." Taeri beams like the cutie she is. "If you hadn't we would've been trainees for who knows how many more years." They should really thank Hyeseong for this because I wouldn't have even met these girls without her and it's just as well.

The longer I know then the better a musical duo sounds better than an actual girl group.

"Kind of a waste of time." Jihye, the jellybean adds on.

So you think you're exempt from those extra years? Why should these two be the only ones that didn't have endure hell? Hyeseong got sent on a mission to pick the best ones, but she failed.

Taeri and Jiye aren't good enough.

"Well, I'm sure Min is going to still expect you to train just as hard as we did." Hyeseong giggles trying to break the tension. She can clearly tell that I'm getting pissed.

"Yeah, you'll wish for your death." I mean it but I say it in a joking manner. "Anyway, I'm heading out for the night. Tomorrow around ten AM, we'll meet at the dance studio on the third floor, the last one. Don't any of you dare to be late."

And with that, my reputation and their opinion of me is that member that pushes too hard.

But I've lost the ability to give any damns.

"Hey, Min. Get some rest tonight." Hyeseong stops in the doorway after ushering the other shy girls out of the house. "I know you haven't been sleeping too well after the incident." And by 'too well' she means 'not at all.'

"I'll try." I hand her this empty promise before I close my front door.

My mind is still on the song I heard earlier. I can't be bothered to linger on any other subject right now. That rapper, I swear I've heard his voice before. It was whiny, with a hint of being sultry but overall familiar to my ears.

I couldn't even concentrate on translating the words to my native language in my head. It was like the guy's voice captivated my every thought. Took control of my every thought, and if the thought wasn't on him it wasn't allowed to stay in my head.

"That's it." I whisper to no one. I almost grab my keys, but realize that it defeats the purpose of going for a walk.

Instead I leave everything, the only exception being my phone and earphones, and walk through my door without a destination in mind at all.

It isn't a long before I can hear the faint thumping of EDM, and nothing else. I've never been the clubbing type, but due to recent events I've found that it's painfully easy to get lost in a bottle of something and drown your problems in its contents.

That's exactly what I do every other day and feel no regret.

I've kept this habit a moderate secret. When I do drink, I'm safe. I don't drive there, just choose one bar within walking distance.

I've never made the horrific mistake of drunkenly sleep with a stranger either.

Instead of waiting in line, I waltz my way to the front without even thinking about it. People, those who have been waiting in the cold and probably for hours gripe at me and yell, clearly jealous.

I flash the bouncer my I.D, and he lets me through the velvet ropes without questioning me after seeing my social class level.

As often as I come to a club I've happened upon, I quickly developed a routine. Every club is the same, permeated with the stench of sex, sweat, and alcohol. I can't get enough of the energy and the vibes, the fact that I can barely hear myself think.

It's surreal, truly it is. Every club here is like this, full of girls that look and act the same and guys that can't seem to get enough of them.

I make my way over to the bar, having to scream at the bartender that I want a vodka soda and my accent makes it even tougher to understand. That and my poor skills in East Asian languages.

I turn in the neon swivel chair and face the crowd, drawing a few stares from hungry eyes.

It seems to be more attractive to be a girl that's simply dressed here, not wearing thread bare bullshit. Not that I'm completely covered like the virgin I am, I'm still wearing my white jean shorts and a see through top.

My excuse being, it was a snap decision to go for a walk.

The song shifts but you can't even tell, due to the screams and boarderline moans.

"Hey," An onlooker gains the ability to finally approach me, despite my intimidating stance and the intentional look I hold in my eyes. "Where did you clearly just come from? Most girls don't wear pajamas to a club."

I'm offended but don't show that. "What makes you think I'm like most girls?" I scoff at the stranger.

"Nothing if I can be honest," He continues this futile attempt at flirting with me. "But maybe that's not a bad thing. You should tell me your name."

I look away from him, a good move, and twirl the straw in my mouth seductively. After awhile, you become great at this sort of thing.

"I'll tell you mine, if you tell me yours." He barters weakly.

His eyes hold a pure innocence, but I've seen that before. It's not candor, no he's something else, but I can't place it.

His tanned skin glistens, which tells me nothing but he's been dancing all night (most likely around a bunch of drunken strangers) and this definitely isn't his first time using these lines on a girl that was literally just minding her own business.

His hand comes up to brush a strand of hair out of his deep brown eyes and he gives me this smile like 'sleep with me, I'm cute.'

I still don't answer him, but I'm not hating his company although I can barely hear him over the blaring music, a hit song from last year.

"Okay, I'm getting nowhere. Instead of names let's try something else." His hand ends up on my thigh. "I'll call you princess, and you can call me daddy."

I choke on my drink and go into a coughing fit. The guy reaches out to assist me but I hold my arm out to stop him from touching me anymore.

"Seriously, who are you?" I ask after I'm finished dying in my seat.

He chuckles and grabs my hand, leading me into the hallway where the bathrooms are. "No one good."

We close ourselves in a stall of the empty restroom, hearing nothing but the ragged breaths of our own bodies and the extreme (but muffled) music from the next room over.

"I'm Moon Jimin."

His lips cover mine completely and it's like he wants to swallow me.

•| intermission |•

Once upon a time, there was a girl that gladly kept her walls up and protected herself from being hurt and soiled. This kept her clean of sin.

But the one that's become obsessed with her has other plans.

•| intermission |•

The feeling never ceased.

You know how it feels. A person of regular sanity feels the urge - has this issue - every month or so. That feeling to kill.

It doesn't even necessarily have to be killing for me. I just want to make someone feel the pain, that satisfying pain. I need someone to trust me, only to feel fear that I caused.

I look through my glass doors of the twenty third floor in this hotel Neverland Labels put us in for the beginning of our promotions.

Like an itch you can't scratch, I have this terrible need to strike terror in this person's heart. I want to play with her, love her, make her trust me, and when she does...

I want to kill her.

I breathe in allowing my thoughts to finally consume me. It's been awhile since I've had time to really think about this.

It's finally starting. I set my plan into motion only two days ago and Jimin texted me about in hour ago.

My baby is loose enough to make out with Moon within minutes of knowing him.

I'll have to punish her for it later on.

I pick up my phone and check the time. It's been an hour since he told me that he successfully got her to his place and is definitely not fucking her tonight.

It's relieving; knowing that I'm going to have her first. My baby is keeping herself pure for me. Like a delicate wineglass with a couple of scratches on it.

The feeling courses my veins again as I wrap my left hand around my cock, slightly squeezing and bothering the tip with my thumb. I groan at the feeling. Thoughts and images of bursting into Jimin's room, two floors down, and entering his bedroom only to find them kissing in his bed circulate. It keeps me hard thinking about seeing their lips entangled; knowing that when it really heats up she'll reject him and end up cuddling for the rest of the night.

Him feeling her, my muse, and causing her to pant makes me want to mangle Jimin but his voice in the back of my mind reminds me that this whole scheme is mine.

I don't care if I'm exposed right now, standing in front of a full length wall of glass at night. I stare down at the city, nothing but lights swimming in a pitch black sea from my angle.

"Ugh, fuck." I whisper this as quietly as possible to myself.

My load bursts from my red tip and paints the window white. I continue jacking myself off, getting small bursts and coming down from my orgasmic high with a moan.

The fact that she's finally so close to me fuels me like nothing else but we've discussed her not knowing that Jimin and I are connected until tomorrow or maybe the next day, but definitely not tonight.

No matter how badly I want to dip my pocket knife into her perfect pale skin and fuck her so well...

"Yerin..." I keep moaning, before I tuck my cock back into my boxers. "Min Yerin..."

I want her... so badly.

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