~ 𝕡𝕙𝕚𝕝𝕠𝕡𝕙𝕠𝕓𝕚𝕒 ~ (Minsung)

🔒Chapter 8 - Panic🔒

⚠️TW⚠️
(ATTEMPTED) S/A
PANIC ATTACK
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3rd person POV:

Jisung instantly sensed something was wrong and began searching the club frantically. He checked the crowd of dancers, the bar, and every corner he could think of. Yet, with every passing moment, his anxiety grew. 

Just as despair began to settle, a thought struck him.

The restroom.

He pushed through the throngs of people, urgency fueling his every step. Bursting through the restroom door, his heart sank at the sight of only a single man hunched over a toilet, too drunk to notice him. 

Jisung’s mind raced. Where are you, Minho?!

Pulling out his phone, he dialed Minho’s number, hoping for the faintest clue. 

Ring… ring… ring...

The number you have dialed is currently unavailable. Please leave a message.

“Damn it!” Jisung cursed under his breath, dialing again with the same result. Frustration churned in his chest as he leaned back against the wall—only for it to give way beneath him. 

He yelped as he stumbled backward, landing hard on the floor. Blinking in confusion, he twisted around to see a hidden doorway. 

What the hell is this?

Realizing he was wasting time, Jisung scrambled to his feet and stepped cautiously into the dimly lit hallway. Flickering fluorescent lights barely illuminated the narrow space, revealing only two doors at the end. 

He opened the first, only to find an empty room with a pool table at its center. The second door, however, stopped him cold. 

A voice. Muffled. Familiar. 

Jisung swung the door open—and his blood boiled. 

Minho was pinned against the wall, the man's hand digging into his waist while his mouth latched hungrily onto Minho’s neck. 

Rage consumed Jisung as he stormed across the room, grabbing the man by his collar and yanking him off Minho. 

“How DARE you touch him?!” Jisung roared, slamming his fist into the man’s jaw. 

The man stumbled, but Jisung didn’t stop. Punch after punch landed until the man’s face was bloodied and bruised, his cries of pain drowned out by Jisung’s fury. 

“WHAT’S YOUR PROBLEM?!” the man yelled, shielding himself with trembling arms. “IS HE YOUR BOYFRIEND OR SOMETHING?!” 

“That’s none of your damn business,” Jisung growled, grabbing the man by the shirt and hauling him out of the room. “You’re lucky I don’t kill you right here.” 

Dragging the man into the club, Jisung spotted Hyunjin and shoved him forward. 

“Hyunjin, you’re still a cop, right? This piece of trash is a fucking rapist,” Jisung spat, his voice trembling with anger.