05. Home Sweet Home
You don’t have time to give Namjoon a verbal response after hearing his devastating message. You’re too busy clutching your sides, hurled over the trash basin in the corner of the room, projectile vomiting like you’ve had one too many drinks today. However, unfortunately for you, there’s no alcohol in your system to numb your pain or embarrassment. Not yet anyway. You make a mental note to ask Hoseok to stop at the nearest bar on the way home later.
“____?” Namjoon asks cautiously, standing a few feet away from you awkwardly. He doesn’t know what to do or how to help you. “Are you okay?
“Fuck no… but thanks for asking!” You think to yourself, rolling your eyes in an annoyed fashion. Your vomit is the only thing that stops you from saying it out loud.
A few moments earlier, Namjoon tried to rush over to you in order to hold your hair back like the gentlemen he was. Suddenly, you forced him to an abrupt stop, informing him that only happened in the movies. There was no way in hell you wanted Kim Namjoon to see you blowing chunks that close. It would ruin his image of you and scar him forever. There was once a time not so long ago when he kissed your lips and actually liked the taste of your mouth. You don’t want to ruin that memory for him. It’s one of the few good ones you two have together.
“Answer me, ____!” He panics frantically, the tone of his voice revealing genuine concern. It surprises you… but you’re too busy trying to recover from your impromptu throw up session to reply. “Why are you vomiting like that? Are you like… pregnant or something?”
Just when you thought you were done, his question makes you sick all over again. That’s not even something you want to consider. You’ve been completely against starting a family ever since you lost yours so violently. Besides, you’re in no shape to raise a child, mentally or physically. You’re not capable of doing that. Not right now… and probably not ever.
Thankfully, you realize there’s not a cold chance in hell you’re pregnant. It’s impossible. You’ve been on birth control for years. On top of that, you always make sure to use condoms as a safety net, and you know what made you throw up to begin with. It wasn’t morning sickness. It was the mention of Jungkook and the fact that your worst fear has materialized right before your eyes.
Jeon Jungkook has finally stepped to power, he’s taken the crown that has been up for grabs ever since his father died. He’s at the top of the food chain now. You were already below him before but now? You’re not sure if you’ll ever be able to reach him. He’s a king on a pedestal now and you’re merely a peasant beneath his feet. He could squash you if he wanted to. So how are you going to reach someone who’s untouchable? The only thing you fear more than him is losing your shot at revenge. You can see it getting further and further away from you. And if you don’t have your vengeance to look forward to, then you have nothing else to live for…
“I’m about three goddamn seconds away from calling the police to get you an ambulance if you don’t answer me!” Namjoon closes the distance between the two of you, grabbing your shoulder to spin you around. Luckily, you stopped throwing up about a minute or two ago. Your face has even gained some of its color back. You still don’t look your best, but it’s definitely a step in the right direction. Better than you looked five minutes ago anyways…
“I’m fine, okay?” You take a deep breath, yanking your shoulder from Namjoon’s rough grasp. Just because you’re starting to feel better doesn’t mean you want him any closer. You don’t want any male attention after an incident like this one. The only thing you want is a shower. “Don’t worry about me.”
“That’s all I ever do when it comes to you.” He whispers underneath his breath, turning away to get some much-needed space from you. Even with the distance he tries to create, you’re able to make out every single word he says. Something tells you that you’ll never be able to forget them either.
“No one asked you to do that…” You can’t help the sinking feeling that overtakes your body, making you go completely numb. He only said that he worries about you, but somehow that makes you feel worse than the news about Jungkook rising to power did. Some might consider worrying sweet, but you think it’s totally insulting. If someone is worried about you, it means they must think you’re weak. It means something must be wrong with you. That’s all there is to it. “No one asked you to worry about me.”
“Of course not! Because you don’t get to pick and choose who you care about in this world! It just fucking happens. If we could choose who we care about, I sure as hell wouldn’t choose someone like you…” He clears his throat to mask the way his voice starts to waver, nearly exposing the emotion behind his hasty words. However, you don’t need any physical cues to notice it. He’s never been this upfront with you before. There’s no way you couldn’t see it. It’s practically in the air all around you. Hell, you can’t get away from it. It’s everywhere. “I wish I didn’t give a shit about you because you don’t even care about yourself. You don’t care about anything, ____, unless it has to do with Jeon Jungkook. You’re too busy thinking about destroying him to realize the only person you’re truly destroying is yourself.”
He pauses before he continues, turning around to look at your saddened face. You look like a hurt little puppy and it makes his heart clench inside his chest. He feels like he’s kicking someone that’s already down, but he can’t bring himself to stop. He needs you to understand. “Can you really blame me for being worried about you? Why do you think Yoongi sent you here? It’s not because he wants you to work through your past, it’s because he’s worried about your future. At the rate you’re going, you might not even have one.”
“So what? Revenge is worth every risk to me!” You stare him dead in the eyes, trying to decipher that stony look hidden deep within them. It’s not pity, or sympathy, but it favors them in a way. No matter how hard you try to figure it out, you can’t quite put your finger on what it is. Maybe it’s regret? Maybe he regrets saying something or maybe he just regrets meeting you… “If the price of retaliation is my life, then it’s a fair price to pay. If that’s the case, then I’ll gladly pay it, and it will be worth every fucking penny.”
Namjoon lets out a small sigh, staring down at his feet. Everything he just said fell on deaf ears. He might as well have said nothing at all. All his concerns and protests seem like they mean nothing to you. Maybe they don’t. You’re acting like you don’t hear a single word that comes from his mouth. Perhaps he’s right after all. You don’t care about anything… not even yourself… or the people who care about you….
“I’m sorry, doctor.” You say quietly, being sure to use formalities as you step toward the exit with purpose. And that purpose is to get the hell out of here! Technically, your appointment isn’t over yet, but this conversation is. You’ve had it one too many times and it always ends the same: with someone severely disappointed. That seems like the only thing you’re good at; hurting people. “I could lose my life, and there’s a good chance I will, but I can’t lose a future I never had. He’s taken that away from me too…”
“Jungkook isn’t taking your future away from you. You’re just giving it to him.” Namjoon deadpans harshly, his voice thick with disgust. He isn’t even trying to hide his judgement from you anymore. He wants you to see and feel his scrutiny. Maybe it will knock some sense into your dense head because nothing fucking else will. He just wants to help you, but you don’t even want that for yourself. You’re a walking catastrophe headed straight for Hell and you don’t want to turn around. You don’t want to change your direction. “Do you think this is what your family would’ve wanted, ____?”
“I don’t know.” You stop to shrug, hesitating at the door to take a deep breath. Your hand is wrapped around the brass doorknob, but you haven’t turned it yet. You probably should before this conversation gets any worse. If that’s even possible at this point… “I’ll be sure to ask them when I see them again soon.”
“That isn’t funny—”
“Oh, my God! Finally!” You spin around on your feet manically, grasping your chest in mock surprise, letting out a sarcastic laugh. “We finally have something in common, Namjoon! I can’t believe it! What are the odds? We have to write this down so we never forget it!”
“You’re a lost cause, ____.” He says in a serious manner, shaking his head in complete and utter disbelief, but a small chuckle eradicates his somber tone. The next thing you know, he’s throwing his head back in a fit of hysterics. He’s not laughing because you’re funny. He’s laughing because you’re hopeless and it took him over thirty sessions to realize that. He must not be a very good counselor. “I give up! I tried everything I could to help you and nothing worked. I even tried some unusual methods that would get my license revoked! Either you’re completely hopeless or I totally suck at my job. Maybe I need to switch careers…”
“McDonald’s is always hiring…” You grin at the thought of Namjoon in uniform with an easygoing smile on his face, taking people’s orders and flipping patties.
“Something tells me you make a mean hamburger.”
“Oh, I do.” He nods confidently, taking advantage of the lightened mood. “Ask Hoseok when you see him again. He used to force me to bring him a hamburger and a bottle of Sprite every time we had a session. If I didn’t, he wouldn’t show up.”
“I didn’t know Hoseok went to counseling.” You raise an eyebrow, tilting your head to the side. “He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy that openly talks about his emotions.”
“That’s why I had to bribe him with food.” Namjoon runs his hands through his hair, sighing softly to himself. “It worked for a while, but he ended our sessions prematurely. Just like you. Fuck…”
“ I really am a shitty councilor.” He says with his mouth agape, his eyes going wide. It’s as if a midlife crisis has just hit him like a ton of bricks.
“Maybe you’re the one who needs therapy.” You can’t help but laugh at his comical expression. It’s like he just had a huge epiphany and he’s still trying to let it sink in. “You’re not a bad counselor. Your patients are just too fucked up to be helped. I mean, you do cater to criminals and murderers after all.”
“That’s true…” The ghost of a smile tugs at his plump lips, his surprised expression fading. “I just wish I could help more sometimes.”
“Maybe they don’t deserve help.” You bite your lip, turning the doorknob finally. You’ve lingered here long enough, not wanting your visit to end on bad terms. Or maybe you just don’t want it to end in general. You know the second you step out of his office you’re going to have to face reality. Every problem you’ve tried to suppress and bury is digging at the surface… just itching to get out to drag you back down again.
“The path to redemption isn’t an easy one… but the path to Hell is.” He walks across the room quickly, taking long strides to meet you at the door. He’s carrying a piece of paper… a prescription. You wonder what it is this time, having been prescribed endless psychiatric medication over the years. None of it worked. In fact, it just made everything worse. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”
“Of course.” You take the scrap of paper from him, tucking it into the back pocket of your blue jeans absentmindedly. You’ll look at it when you get back to the estate and decide if it’s worth filling or not. Whatever it is, it’s probably something Yoongi already has. The Min empire was built on pharmaceuticals and other drugs and illegal substances that are hard to get in South Korea. It’s a good possibility that Yoongi has whatever you need. “It was nice seeing you, Dr. Kim.”
“Likewise, ____.” Namjoon follows you into the hallway, unsure if this is the last time he’ll ever get to see you. He wasn’t lying when he said he was worried about you. He really is. “I do hope you live long enough to schedule another appointment with me.”
“Keep your fingers crossed.” You smile as you step toward the exit happily, only stopping when a question you meant to ask earlier pops into your mind. “By the way, how did you know about Jungkook?”
“He’s… um… he’s…” Namjoon stammers as he scratches the back of his head, seeming to search for an answer. He was hoping you wouldn’t ask that and he shouldn’t tell you. It’s against all the rules he’s supposed to follow, but when it comes to you, he’s never been able to follow any of them. His license should be revoked and he should no longer be able to practice in South Korea. I guess that’s what happens when you work for an underground criminal organization. “Jeon Jungkook is one of my patients.”
“What?” Your heart beats against your chest like a bird’s wings against a metal cage. You can’t believe this. He’s got to be joking, right? “That’s the first good joke you’ve made all day! Who knew Kim Namjoon could actually be funny?”
“____.” He says your name strongly like a stern parent trying to get their child’s attention. It works. Namjoon has every ounce of your attention right down to the last morsel. You couldn’t focus on anything else even if you wanted to. “I’ve done a lot of things to you, but the one thing I’ve never done is lie to you. It’s complicated but it’s true. He’s been seeing me for years… way before I saw you. It’s not like there’s many places for people like us to go. Our appointments are almost always on his terms, on his time, and at his home privately. I made sure there was never a possibility that you two would run into each other. I wouldn’t risk that… I promise…”
“You know where he lives?” You arch an eyebrow inquisitively, unable to think about anything else. Out of everything Namjoon just confessed to you, the only thing your brain seems to process is the bit about him meeting Jungkook at his own home.
Jeon Jungkook might be a popular businessman and socialite in the public eye, but even Google can’t tell you his phone number let alone his home address. You’ve spent countless hours cyber-stalking him, even going as far as to scroll years back on his public Instagram profile (which is filled with way too many ab shots to be considered a business account), all in hopes to find a breadcrumb or something to point you in his direction. That being said… the closest you’ve ever gotten to him is the snobby receptionists who answer the phone when you call one of his corporations. And all they do is tell you to drop by in person if you want to ask any questions… as if that’s not shady at all.
Even Yoongi doesn’t know his exact location. He assumes it’s off the map where its hidden completely or hiding in plain sight somewhere right underneath tour noses. The latter frightens you. To think that Jungkook could be so close to you makes it harder to breathe. It also sends a thrill down your back because that’s exactly where you need him to be. You can’t get to him if he’s far away.
“What do you mean?” Namjoon furrows his dark eyebrows, confused by your strange question. He’s been anticipating your reaction for a while now, but this isn’t how he thought you would react at all. He had expected you to scream at the top of your lungs, call him every name in the book, or even throw a vase at his head. To see you standing here so calmly is almost disappointing in a way. Your reaction is rather underwhelming.
“You said you meet with him privately at his home, didn’t you?” You enunciate every word slowly, making sure Namjoon hears every syllable loud and clear. There’s the attitude he’s been looking for. Now that he’s found it, he wishes he could return it. He doesn’t like where you’re going with this. “You know where he lives… you know where I can find him.”
“No.” He waves you off instantly, dismissing you with the vigorous shake of his head. This is exactly why he shouldn’t have told you anything about Jungkook. He should’ve kept his mouth shut, but he couldn’t stand looking into those sad little eyes of yours. Namjoon just wanted to give you a warning. He thought you deserved to know… but he didn’t think about your spontaneous nature or your obsession with destroying things. He practically just poured gasoline on an already raging fire. Instead of helping you, he’s made everything ten times worse. Maybe he’s right about being a shitty counselor… “I can’t do that, ____. I won’t do that. I may not be able to stop you from raising hell, but I refuse to lead you there. You’ve made it clear to me that I can’t save your life, but you’re sadly mistaken if you think I’m going to help you end it.”
“I’m not asking you to do that.” You frown at his words, thinking of a new way to reason with him. “I’m just asking you for a couple numbers and a street name. That’s all I—”
“123 Sesame Street.”
“Thanks! Can you repeat that?” You ask immediately, trying to remember the address mentally. It isn’t until he repeats it that you realize it’s fake. Unless Jungkook magically became a big yellow bird somehow, he sure as hell doesn’t live at that address. “Namjoon, I’m serious!”
“So am I!” He persists with an angry snarl, raking his hands through his tousled hair. If he doesn’t keep his hands busy, he might actually try to knock some sense into you physically. “I’m not telling you his address. Besides, it’s completely against the patient confidentiality agreement for me to reveal that kind of information.”
“Fuck those rules! None of them stopped you from fucking me!” You shout at the top of your lungs, unaware that your voice is echoing down the hall. “If you know where Jeon Jungkook lives, you’re going to tell me!”
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.” A husky voice growls before you can reply. It’s a little too deep and feral to belong to you, Namjoon seems to notice, and the both of you look down the hall hesitantly. Min Yoongi is waiting at the end of the hallway, clenching that same fucking suitcase he always has in one hand, and a black gun in the other. He’s got two other weapons with him today as well; Jung Hoseok and Kim Seokjin. Both of them are smiling in your direction happily, but Yoongi is wearing his signature frown, dampening the mood. He looks like he’s on the verge of killing someone. You just hope it doesn’t end up being you. “Like ____ said, fuck the rules! You might as well since you already fucked her. A rule is just a suggestion anyways. Isn’t that right, Namjoon?”
“I’m so sorry, Sir, I really—”
“Don’t apologize to me. Apologize to Hoseok.” Yoongi cuts him off short, glancing to the man to the left of him. The same man who’s jacket is wrapped around your small shoulders. You suddenly feel the urge to look away from their gazes, focusing your eyes on the floor instead. “He’s the one who cares about her.”
That hurts. A lot. That means Yoongi doesn’t care about you, right? At all…
“I’m sorry, Hoseok.” Namjoon grits out, feeling embarrassed for the apology that’s being forced on him. He could try to resist or search for a cop out, but none of that will be tolerated in the presence of Min Yoongi. He is another king, another leader, just like Jeon Jungkook, and Namjoon is well aware of that. That’s why he feels so bad for you, like he almost needs to protect you. The man you hate was the heir to a mob and the one you love is already the leader of one. You’ve been sandwiched in-between violence and corruption for as long as you can remember, no wonder you don’t know anything else. It’s all you’ve ever known. Namjoon can’t fix you because you’re more than just broken. You’re damaged beyond repair. “I’m sorry for everything.”
“Don’t be! The more, the merrier! I love sharing.” Hoseok grins cheerfully, catching the rest of you off guard. That’s not what any of you were expecting. He walks toward you gracefully, holding up another dog collar and a brand-new chain. Wow! You’ve graduated from a leather leash to a metal chain. “Now why don’t you give us Jungkook’s address? I’d like to share ____ with him too. I’m sure he’d like her. Don’t you think so, Namjoon? You seemed too…”
“I d-d-don’t know if I can do that…” Namjoon stutters with an offhand shrug, avoiding the last question. Despite Hoseok’s joyous smile and positive attitude, there’s something dark bubbling beneath the surface. From all the sessions the they worked through, Namjoon quickly discovered there were two sides to Hoseok. One that you wanted to see and one that you didn’t. Namjoon doesn’t know which side is standing in front of him right now. Neither do you.
“You can…” Hoseok encourages him with a gentle pat on the back. When he’s done, and begins to withdrawal his hand from behind him, it goes straight for Namjoon’s neck. “And you will.”
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