The Tiger King (Chaelisa)

48| Monster

previously: the gang were partying at the Vault when rosie receives a phone call.

In the middle of throwing it back and nearly breaking her spine in the process, Lisa laughed and glanced in Rosé's direction. She brightened upon spotting the blonde back at the bar, having seen her leave with Irene. She assumed they had gone out for some fresh air.

But now, something wasn't right. 

Lisa frowned, all her senses switched on high alert as she fought off the haze of alcohol. Her eyes narrowed when she homed in on the source of her agitation.

Even from afar, Rosé's terrified face was plain to see as she held her phone to her ear, lips moving and mouthing words. Her eyes were darting everywhere.

Lisa stopped moving entirely, ignoring the sounds of the party and bodies still in motion around her. Her vision tunnelled as she focused on Rosé. All noise faded away to a distant ringing. Her fists clenched and her skin prickled.

She sensed danger. 

>

"Enjoying yourself, are you?" Yang said, his voice disturbingly still like a treacherous calm sea before the storm hits. Despite all the noise around her, his voice cleaved through the chaos like a knife.

Rosé swallowed, her hands clammy. "Yang, I can explain, it's not what it sounds like." She forced down the bubble of panic rising up her throat because she had no idea how to explain. 

"Thorn, please do not insult my intelligence," Yang growled and she flinched, her skin crawling with dread. 

Yang wasn't just angry; he was enraged.

How hadn't she noticed the number on her screen before picking up?

"Get the hell out of there. Go home before I lose my temper and do something you'll regret. Go, now."

"Wh-what?"

"Don't test me, sweetheart," Yang gritted. "Ditching your job just to go out and party? Thinking you could lie to me and get away with it? The audacity! And you thought I wouldn't find out? You've gotten too full of yourself lately, spurning my good graces. You need to be put in your place. Leave this instant Thorn, or the whole diner will be blasted to dust on my word."

"You—you can't. You wouldn't," Rosé said stupidly, because he would, of course he would, if you pushed him enough. It was just the kind of sick power-play he relished. 

"It's too crazy," she tried reasoning, her voice quavering, "you wouldn't blow up this place with so many witnesses—"

His cruel laugh made her panic double, because of course, he was a psychopath who relished in destruction and pain, of course he wouldn't care who or how many died. 

She remembered how he once snapped a man's limb in half without even flinching, and how he had vanished Seokjin and electrocuted Jimin because they harassed her. 

Rosé swallowed dryly, on the verge of hyperventilating.

"Sweetheart, seems you have forgotten who you're dealing with. How about a little refresher? Currently, I have on standby the Jays on location where your precious daughter and her little friends are all having themselves a merry little slumber party, painting nails and playing hairdresser. If you don't believe me, the address is—"

"No! Don't you dare touch them!" Rosé whispered but he heard and chuckled darkly.

"That's entirely up to you. Would your conscience feel better if I blew them up first instead of your dance party? You could stay dancing for a while longer, no?" he asked diabolically. "Think about it, you could go out whenever you like and as long as you like without Ella around to keep your curfew. Hell, you can pick up guys more easily too, she won't be in the way."