Chapter 3

Taehyung was so drunk after the 3 rounds of the drinking party. He had to make excuses just to be able to leave since it seemed like they wanted to continue until they were totally wasted and Taehyung didn't want that because no one would be able to take care of him.

He was a bit dizzy after stepping out of the bar. His sight was literally blurry as he was trying to gain strength to walk.

“Drunk already?” It came from the same voice which annoyed him earlier. He felt like it was enough to sober him up.

He just tried to walk away, hoping he was on the right way but he almost stumbled, not until an arm grabbed him.

“Don't force yourself, you're just making things difficult,” Jungkook told him.

Though Taehyung just yanked off his arm. “Don't mind me, I can handle myself,” he retorted and walked away.

Well, he didn't hear any footsteps following him so he felt relieved. He was scanning his eyes around to look for a taxi since he didn't think he could walk any further but his head seriously hurt. He was so drunk that he didn't realize eyes were looking at him, preying on him.

“It seems like you are drunk, do you need help?” A man’s voice came from his side, the tone almost polite, almost caring—yet something about it felt wrong. The stranger’s hand brushed against his arm as if steadying him.

“I-I’m fine, don’t mind me,” Taehyung muttered, trying to keep his balance as he moved away. But before he could take another step, someone else slid in front of him, blocking his path like a wall.

“Don’t worry, we’re just going to help you.” The man’s words were smooth, almost rehearsed, before he tilted his head and called out, “We know where you can get a taxi, right, boys?”

The faint shuffle of footsteps answered him, several pairs circling closer. Taehyung blinked, but the world spun in dizzy loops, blurring faces into shifting shadows. He couldn’t tell how many there were—just that they surrounded him.

“I said, I’m fine,” Taehyung tried again, forcing the words out sharper this time. But his knees buckled, and he stumbled backward, breath hitching.

Someone caught him. Or rather, pinned him. A hand clamped down against his back, firm and invasive, the grip crawling under his skin with disgust. Taehyung shuddered at the touch—it wasn’t supportive, it was possessive, as though he was already theirs.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” another voice murmured near his ear. A second hand suddenly cupped his face, rough fingers pressing against his cheek, forcing him to look straight ahead. Taehyung tried to jerk away, but the hold only tightened.

“All you have to do is follow us.” The man leaned in close, his breath warm and foul. “Be a good boy, alright?”

Even without seeing it clearly, Taehyung could feel the grin stretching across the man’s face—a grin that made his stomach twist with dread.

Taehyung wasn't sure what happened but the hand on his face was now gone.

“Who are you?!” The man was seemingly arguing with someone.

“Let go of him.” The voice cut through the air—oddly familiar, laced with authority that made the words heavier than they should have been.

However, Taehyung had no idea what was happening in his surroundings.

“Fuck, dude, don’t interfere with us!” The man shouted and grabbed the unknown person’s shoulder.

The stranger’s eyes flicked down to the hand on him, lingering there as though the very touch was revolting. His lips curled in irritation, and the sharp exhale that followed carried nothing but disdain. He lifted his gaze back up, glare cold and sharp, as if the man’s existence itself was an offense.

“Remove your filthy hand from me.” The words came out low, clipped, and dripping with contempt—frightening enough to send a shiver crawling down their spines.

“Huh? That’s your problem? Dude, you’re meddling with our business. Get away from here!” the man retorted, but the stranger’s expression didn’t shift—disgust still etched deep into his face, annoyance simmering like he was already done entertaining this nonsense.

The unknown person rolled his tongue in his inner cheeks.

“Let us have our fun, so leave before everything gets worse for you!” The man behind Taehyung argued with that person.

That was the last sentence Taehyung heard before everything got chaotic. His butt landed on the floor as, for some reason, the man behind him finally let him go.

A sharp crash followed—metal against metal, or maybe a chair tipping over—Taehyung couldn’t tell. Shouts overlapped, one deeper and guttural, another strained and breathless, both clashing too fast for him to separate. The floor trembled under quick, heavy steps, then something slammed into the wall with a dull, shaking thud. He flinched at the sound, heart hammering.

There was a sharp grunt, a hiss of air sucked through teeth, the scuffle of shoes dragging across the ground. Then another crack—louder this time, like bones meeting fists. Taehyung pressed his palms to the floor, too afraid to lift his head. All he had were fragments: the sound of fabric tearing, a muffled groan, the rush of something colliding hard with furniture.

He couldn’t see it, but the fight was everywhere—in the air that shook with each blow, in the uneven rhythm of footsteps stumbling and lunging. It all blurred into noise, raw and violent, like the room itself had been swallowed by chaos.

Later on, the noises in his surroundings died down as if it didn't happen. The only thing he could hear was footsteps approaching him.

“I told you, you're just making things difficult,”

Taehyung was sure he had heard that somewhere earlier.

Wait...

Jungkook? Was this Jungkook all along?

But why?

He was about to question him but he was suddenly lifted from the ground.

“Put- put me down!” He weakly argued. “Where are you taking me?” Taehyung was squirming around from Jungkook's grip.

“Home” That was the only response he heard from him.

Taehyung wasn't sure how but he lost his consciousness just like that.