Jisung sighs as he leaves the studio. It went well, all things considered, with Chan and Changbin there to help him when inspiration flatlined.

But now he's tired, and he still has to go get groceries, and he can't even comprehend the thought of doing more cooking than putting instant ramyeon in the microwave, and-

Someone grabs his arms and tugs him into an empty alley.

He flails slightly as he’s pushed harshly into a wall. "Hey, what-"

"Shut up." A rough voice, ugly face. "You're that rapper, aren't you?" A sick grin. "Bet someone'll pay a crap ton of money for you."

Jisung's mouth is still open in a mix of pain and shock, still frozen still from the surprise.

And then someone's grabbing the would-be kidnapper, shoving him off to the side, hard enough that he slams into the opposite brick wall and collapses to the ground.

Jisung breathes in, out, harsh and heavy, trying to comprehend- "What the fuck is happening?"

His supposed savior holds a hand out to steady him. "Sorry about that, I probably should have realized what was going on sooner-"

"Who the fuck are you?" Jisung shakes the hand off just a bit frantically.

The man holds his hands up in the air placatingly. "Sorry, sorry. Um- okay, so, don't freak out..."

"Too fucking late for that, dude!" Jisung is this close to starting to hyperventilate.

"Okay, well- I'm trying my best here!" The man looks strangely... uneasy. "I... I work for Lee Minho."

...Oh.

An exhale escapes him, harsh and this close to a bitter laugh. "You- what??"

Lee Minho.

Jisung hasn't seen Minho in... what, seven years?

Since they split. Since Jisung's parents were entirely clear- Lee Minho was the worst of influences, and Jisung was to never see him again.

At fifteen, Jisung didn't understand at all. Was it because he was gay? He'd argued and fought, and hadn't given up until they'd caved and told him the real reason.

Minho's parents were mafia.

Jisung's high school boyfriend was a fucking future mafia boss.