When I had told them the plan, they'd refused. Outright. Loudly too. Protesting. But it wasn't their decision ultimately. It was mine. It was my life. My problem. My decision. It didn't matter that I was petrified at the thought of going through with it. It didn't matter that after making my decision I had fled from their apartment and into the solitude of my own. It didn't matter that when I'd shut the door I had broken down. None of it mattered. Because this was the quickest way. It was the most effective. And it would mean that momentary pain and suffering would lead to a lifetime free of it.
I refused to leave my apartment that day. I didn't need to see the boys and crumble. They didn't need to see me so defeated. I had a life. And I wanted to continue it without the threat hovering over me.
I called Vick, Will and Trace over.
"(Y/N), I know how hard it is going to be. And if there was any other way, I'd do it..." Vick spoke, I heard the apology in his tone, and I rushed to reassure him.
"I made the decision. I'll go through with it. And anyways, it's not like I'm going into it blinded. I know what I'm about to do." I spoke up, there was no room for emotions such as fear. I heard the determination in my voice.
"I promise (Y/N) that there will always be a tail on you. We won't let this go on for longer than it needs to." Will spoke up, fully steeped in his role as a bodyguard.
"(Y/N), we are going to insert a tracker into you. Don't worry, it'll be removed after this operation is over." Trace promised.
I didn't like the idea of having my location traced, of the idea of complete control and knowledge of my location and movements but I knew that it wasn't him doing it. It was something I was consenting to.
I pondered over where the tracker should be located. Somewhere he wouldn't notice. Or feel immediately. My skin crawled at the phantom feeling of his touch. I shuddered.
"Somewhere he won't have immediate access to. Somewhere hidden by my clothes." I suggested looking to them for guidance, they weren't special forces for no reason.
It couldn't be my arms, nor my legs. Where should it go?
"What about the space just below my neck, just a bit below where a shirt hem would be?" I suggested, it seemed plausible.
"Would you rather we do it, or we can call someone?" Vick suggested but I shook my head.
"I trust you guys, let's keep it as quiet as possible." We couldn't risk someone speaking, not intentionally, but a lot could be spilled when the right pressure was exerted. I knew that.
Will came forward bearing a syringe with a numbing agent and a miniscule tracker. It was smaller than the average one and through the weapons and gadgets department, they'd made it immovable so it wouldn't travel through the bloodstream.
I closed my eyes as I felt him gently sweep my hair forward and off the back of my neck. A slight tug, as the top of my shirt was lowered down, a slight stinging sensation as he made a small incision and the feeling of a liquid rushing in and then something settling in. Something cold was applied afterwards, a slight hiss leaving me as it rubbed into the small cut.
"It'll help it heal really quickly. The mark will soon fade too." He informed me.
Part 1 was complete. Time to move onto the next phase.
"Are you sure you have to do this (Y/N)-ah?" Hobi oppa spoke up. He hadn't commented much when I'd told them initially. But his eyes were tired, dark circles prominent and hair tousled.
YOU ARE READING
BTS' New ManagerFanfiction
(Y/N) had always been interested in travelling the world and now is BTS' only female manager. She has to give up her entire life in (Y/C) and start afresh in Seoul. "So our new manager is... you?"