Dad//A Kim Seokjin ff

°•●Last Summer Night●•°

Seokjin hated parties ever since he could remember. What is better to do there anyway? Drunk people swimming in alcohol and a crowd almost fighting for their lives on the dance floor.

There would be three to four dealing taking place in every night club somewhere in hidden room, in middle of civilians and there also would be a fighting ring two rooms away from the main club.

What is even here to look forward?

But guess what? Seokjin is still here because his mind is messed up. And again, it was never sane.

What can you even accept from a teenager whose mind is filled with guns and blood, and to the number one position that had been stolen from him just because he got shot in shoulder on the mission.

It wasn't his fault that the bulletproof vest ripped, and he had to stay behind. Ha! He even caused Namjoon a bit of trouble.

The younger helped him a lot. Like really a lot.

"Hey, you alone there?"

Seokjin would be lying if he said he accepted someone to intruppt him. He thought tonight would be his. He even asked Namjoon not to call him because he's been busy with non-existing work.

His glass slips through his fingers and sits in the counter with a soft clank.

"What if I'm?" Seokjin wanted to ignore, he really wanted to, but he already was so high on the, whatever drink he burnt his throat with, that he barely hold back and slurred out his words, finally looking over whomever just called him.

"I see you're still a teen. What got you here, baby boy?"

Seokjin knew he was drunk by how blur his eyesight became, but he was confident about what he heard. His nose twisted  on the nickname and almost scoffed, but hiccups stopped him.

"Who the hell are you calling a 'babyboy'?" He hiccuped.

He heard a breathy laugh from the man, and then he went silent. Seokjin took the time as opportunity and was just about to turn on his seat when a hand on his waist stopped him.

He snapped his head in the direction of the man sitting beside him,"The hell you're doing?" His words were barely over a breath, but they were filled with disbelief and a hint of anger.

"Uh-aw, can't I have a drink with you?" The man's voice a little low.

Seokjin shifted on his stool when the man's face came closer to his, showing off his soft wrinkles of late thirtees.

Seokjin wasn't new to the mafia world. He has been here for a few years now. He have met a lot of people like him now, but to think of it, he never had to deal with them.

They were all so high that they would just give Seokjin some looks and would walk away.

And tonight that he was in a situation like this, he suddenly wanted to punch this man in front of him.

But as much as he wanted to punch him, his hands were noodles to even lift up. He barely could hold up a glass, forget about punching.