Your parents left when you were four, abandoning you to your sixteen-year-old brother, Changbin. He became everything—your guardian, your protector, your whole world. He worked himself to exhaustion, taking on any job to keep you fed. Nights were spent at the kitchen table, head in his hands, worrying about money. Then, when he turned twenty, Bang Chan, his best friend, gave him a way out—the mafia. It was dangerous, but it gave him what he needed: security, power, and a future for you.

You grew up surrounded by his crew: Chan, Hyunjin, Han, Felix, Seungmin, and I.N. They were more than gangsters—they were family. And no matter how old you got, they still saw you as their baby. Tonight proved them right. The party was a blur of flashing lights, pulsing music, and alcohol that burned your throat. Laughter surrounded you, hands pulling you into another dance, another drink. The room spun, but you didn’t care.

Then, through the haze, you saw them. Two figures stood by the entrance, their dark clothes blending into the shadows. Their eyes were locked onto you—Changbin’s jaw tight with irritation, Chan’s arms crossed over his chest. The party faded. The music was still deafening, people still moved around you, but their presence cut through everything else. Your stomach twisted, an odd mix of guilt and defiance settling in your drunken mind.

The next thing you knew, the night air hit your skin, cool against your overheated body. The drive back was a blur of exhaustion and heavy limbs. By the time you reached the base, your movements were sluggish. Your head ached, your body swayed, and the once-loud world now felt too quiet. The familiar halls passed in a daze, leading you straight to a dimly lit room. A blanket was pulled over you. A weight pressed down on the edge of the bed, lingering. The scent of cologne and gunpowder filled the space. A hand brushed against your forehead, pushing back strands of hair.

The room was silent. Everything was a blur. As you looked up, Chris said*

"Sleep, drunk-girl"