Madman [Hwang Hyunjin ff]

19

When I woke up, Hyunjin and Jeongin were talking.

- ...I don't know, Innie. I don't know how to behave around her anymore. - Hyunjin's voice was low, almost sad. I assumed they were talking about me, so I stayed silent.

- When will you kiss her? - I froze on the spot at Jeongin's question, and decided to fake sleeping to listen to the rest of the conversation.

- Never. - My heart broke a little at that word. - Unless we will end up fucking, but I don't really count those as real kisses. Also, I don't even know if we're ever gonna do it again... Gosh, I really fucked up. - He hit the steering wheel in frustration, letting out a groan.

My mind was split: I couldn't figure out whether he truly liked me or not. It looked like he did, but his denials were too realistic to be an act of his. They way his expressionless face crumbled down all hope I had that he liked me, or his emotionless reply... I was confused, not to mention saddened by all of this. Did I really mean only sex to him?

I let a few more minutes pass, until I stretched myself and pretended of having just woken up.

- Had a good nap? - Jeongin flashed his cute fox smile from the back seats, his left hand rubbing my shoulder, massaging my muscles.

- I really needed it. Thanks, Jeongin. - I smiled back at the younger.

- We're almost there. - Hyunjin informed us in his monotone voice. The duality of this man...

I nodded in reply, examining the buildings around us. Seoul.

We entered the tall buildings we all knew very well, our steps echoing through the hallways.

Everybody already knew that my father was dead. However, no one offered me condolences; instead, I was greeted by deep, respectful bowing.

I felt the power. I could sense how everybody looked forward to having me as the new boss, I sensed how highly they thought of me. After all, I had always accomplished all of my most difficult missions at such a young age.

Before we knew it, we were standing in front of my father's old desk. The room felt empty without him, though you could still smell the tobacco he would smoke. I wandered around a bit, taking my time to observe each and every object he had on all of those wooden shelves. I looked at all those books he had on weapons, and all of those about cinema. It was a big passion of his, before my mom got killed and he completely changed lifestyle.

I kept wandering in front of the bookshelves, when a picture frame caught my attention. It was positioned right in front of some dusty old books, but the frame looked like it was new. Inside of it, there was a quite old picture. A picture from seventeen years ago. It was the three of us at the beach, all smiling.

I remember the day that picture was taken. I believe it was a month before my mother's death. We were at the beach in Gangneung with another man, the one who supposedly took the picture. My mom and I had just taken a walk on the beach, when I suddenly started throwing a tantrum because I wanted ice cream.

Thinking back, I should have just stayed quiet and enjoyed those moments with her. I really do miss her.

The other guys gathered around me just as a single tear left my eyes.

- You look like her. - It was Chan.

- You were a cute baby. - This was Changbin.

Their little comments made me smile. I put back the frame on the shelf, wiping away that single tear.

I turned towards the desk, which had remained untouched. I walked towards it, feeling like it was time for me to claim my place.

I spun around the black leather chair a couple of times, looking at the desk hesitantly. The others stared at me, waiting for such an important moment. Then, I sat down. It was the most uncomfortable seat ever.

- Geez, I have no idea how my father could seat in here for hours. This chair sucks. - I said, standing up almost immediately.

We all bursted out in a laugh, a genuine one. I sat on the desk, and we all started commenting weird things we had found in the room while walking around. From the life-sized porcelain leopard to a secret stack of snacks hidden under the desk, my father's "office" was full of surprises.

Suddenly, a knock on the door interrupted our chat. I hopped down the desk and quickly fixed myself before allowing whoever was on the other side to enter.

- Come in. - I eventually said.

One by one, seven men aligned themselves on the wall in front of us. They were older than us, probably by six or seven years, all neatly dressed in full black.

One of them stepped ahead, bowing. He had long, black hair and looked really tall, even taller than Hyunjin. Actually, all of them were taller than the most of us. They looked really intimidating.

- Park Eun-ssi, I am Kim Namjoon and this is my squad. We are the Bangtan Sonyeondan squad, shortened BTS, we were your father's right-hand men. We are profoundly shook by his death. - All the others bowed right after.

Another one took a step forward, speaking.

- I am Jung Hoseok. We would like to offer you our complete loyalty, just like we did with your father. -

I never knew my father had his own right-hand men. I thought that he would ask us, Stray Kids, to complete all of his missions. Why has he never mentioned them to us? I have never even seen them in this building, it's weird that I get to only acknowledge their existence after seventeen years. Apparently, the seven men in front of me caught up with my confusion, explaining further.

- We were his secret squad. We would go on those he was sure would have been suicide missions, too afraid to send you. - Once again, my father had thought of so many ways of protecting me which went beyond the imaginable. Not one, but two whole squads had been put together to avoid me being hurt at all.

I analysed all the men I had in front of me, both the new and old faces. All pairs of eyes were focused on me.

- So... - I began - What do you know about Chung Seojoon's family? -