Before They Were Bulletproof // OT7 BTS FF x OC ᵖʳᵒˡᵒᵍᵘᵉ

59. Cold Blooded

Summary:

TW. Graphic depictions of violence. Death.
Apologies in advance for the heavy themes of this chapter..

Saturday

I wake up huddled in the middle of my bed, eyes dry and stinging, still wearing the same clothes from the night before. A light thumping beats between my temples. I try to shake off this disorientated feeling by sitting up. My head thumps harder. I need to take something for it.

After two Panadeine Forts and four glasses of water I sit for a moment. The pain subsides, so I take a shower.

I feel so dirty.

Faint thoughts flick through my mind as I wash. Was life just a massive test? To see how much you can take before you break? What was the point of all the suffering... To make you stronger? To make you appreciate it?

I don't know. But what I do know is that I can tell no one about what happened. The relationship and what was at stake by it breaking down was just too much of an unknown. Who knew what the boys would do if they found out... Even I couldn't say, but I knew they wouldn't just let it slide.

If there was bad blood between them, then their dealings would be put in jeopardy. I didn't want any harm coming to the boys, either. That was worse than me enduring this. Besides that, Joon had told me he was having second thoughts about taking this path. He posed the question, how far until the point of no return was crossed. I wanted to know the same thing.

I got out of the shower, dried up, and got dressed in a pair of leggings and a baggy grey hoodie.

Even though he'd said that... how much of it had he meant? Was it realistic? To pull out of dealing with Reira... With the drugs? I don't know enough about the circumstances to make a definitive call on that. Despite me playing my part working part-time, there's still so much I don't know. Do they keep it from me on purpose?

My questions trace in figure-eight with no answers. It just leads to more questions, so I stop. My thoughts aren't even coherent.

Something to ease my mind, that's what I want. So, I venture down the stairs and make my way to the bar. It's quiet. No one is around. I fumble around in the fridge and pull out a green bottle. Soju would have to do, I suppose.

I take the bottle back upstairs with me. There's a shot glass in the sink, but I don't think I'll need it. The lid cracks as I twist it open. The first few mouthfuls make me shiver.

As I sit there at the coffee table with myself and the bottle, I can't help but find some kind of twisted humour in all of this. Was I fucking joke to people? Was I that pathetic? I'd been the one to let it happen after all. Again, the life choices that I made turned on me. It was my own naivety. Stupidity. I guess I deserve it then. Deserve it all.

I sit there, me, the bottle and my ghosts. The light from outside fades and I'm left with nothing to drink. I get to my feet with little of a struggle; I needed something stronger, that much was clear.

As I wandered back down the stairs and to the bar, the music got louder. But, as I walked into the lounge, it was empty.

Was that weird?

I mean... It's not like I felt like talking to anyone, but it was Saturday night, wasn't it? By now, I should've seen at least one of the boys.

I rummaged through the fridge behind the bar again, but I couldn't find anything I wanted. All the good stuff is in the storage room...

So, that's where I go, hiding under my hood as I slip through the crowd and behind the stage. Going unnoticed, I close the storage room door behind me and go straight for the straights.