Jimin's Whore • PJM

Sixty One

Irene grabbed your wine quickly glancing around her, finding no one she dumped its contents into a huge black water bottle stashed in her purse. With nimble fingers she ripped open an alcohol wipe and swiped the inside of the delicate glass then tossed the used square back into her purse. Still watching cautiously she poured half an inch of wine from the bottle into your glass swirling it around then placed it before you again. Finally she emptied the remaining wine into the black water bottle, now there were two empty wine bottles on the table.

Brushing her long black hair behind her ear she sipped her own wine then picked up her cell phone casually. You made some soft babbles, something that sounded like a name but she ignored you.

IR: This silly girl drank too much, can you help me get her home? We're at Maple House

PA: Of course, I'll be there in ten minutes

Irene picked up the chopsticks and tore off a piece of the pancake nibbling on it just as the waiter returned. You were mumbling again, incoherently and the waiter looked alarmed.

"She's fine, she drank too quickly, two whole bottles with lunch," Irene laughed nodding toward them, "She's having sort of a rough day. My assistant is on his way we'll get her home. I'll take the check."

~

You could hear her talking, but your body wasn't working, you mouth couldn't seem to form the words you wanted it to say. When you thought you were getting yourself together you heard a man join the table, but not the waiter.

"Geez Irene, why did you let her drink so much?"

"Just help me get her in the car then you can go, Jimin will help me get her into her apartment he's meeting me in the garage." Her voice didn't have any of the friendliness she'd given the waiter. Jimin was meeting you at the apartment?

"Should we take her out the back?"

"No, I want people to see the three of us together."

When he lifted you under the arms you could see the restaurant, thankfully very few people were around, but you couldn't seem to get your legs to work right. He whisked you through the dining area, out the door, and then you were being buckled into the passenger seat of a car. You tried to memorize his face as he leaned in front of you, but your eyes didn't focus appropriately.

"Much better, let's continue our discussion while we get you home." You thought about that word, you opened your mouth to say it, all that trickled out was a noise.

"Don't worry there's lots for me to cover, you don't need to participate."

Irene patted your hand where it laid against your lap, her tone was friendly but you knew she'd drugged you. That was the only explanation. Your head lolled forward but your body was held tight by the seat belt. A sob choked out, there was no way she was taking you home, what would the point of this exercise be to just dump you back at your apartment?

"Jjille text Jimin four times that she was stranded. Each one more upset, more desperate for help, it was after dark. She knew better than to text our father, even after seven years away his wife still despised her very presence in the house. She didn't have any friends here, she'd gotten tangled up with Jimin immediately upon returning. Why she didn't text Hobi or any of the other guys, I can only assume she blamed all of them for Jimin's behavior. Probably felt like they were all laughing behind her back." Irene sounded angry, recounting the details of her sister death weighed on her. You were starting to feel whiplash from weaving through her emotions.

You remembered when you'd thought the guys were laughing at you, blindfolded on the table. You never would have reached out to them for help if you'd felt humiliated like Jjille had.