Chapter Text
The scent of alcohol, sweat, and smoke permeated the air and soaked into everything it encountered. It was not an unfamiliar scent, in fact, it was one Park Junghoon breathed in every weekend, so he leaned back in the VIP booth he was occupying and scanned the area. The scent of smoke was making him crave a cigarette though, even if the smoke he was smelling was the dry ice variety. Frowning a little, Junghoon patted his pockets in a half-hearted search for his pack of cigarettes. As usual, he found them shoved in his inside breast pocket. He contemplated lighting up right then, but decided against it. Junghoon may be the best patron this club had, but that wouldn’t stop the owner from tossing his ass out for violating the rules. There weren’t many: no smoking inside (that one was as much a personal preference as a government mandate), no selling drugs on-site, consent is required for everything. The last one seemed like common sense to Junghoon, but when he’d asked the owner about it, the man had given him a long look then explained that people seemed to think being in a club meant people could do what they wanted to whomever they wanted and he wasn’t okay with that. There’d only been one instance of someone getting roofied that Junghoon was aware of since that conversation, and the perpetrator had ended up turning himself in after some encouragement. Junghoon wasn’t sure what that meant but he didn’t ask.
As the son of the CEO of Aspire Motors, Junghoon wasn’t unfamiliar with powerful people bending the rules as they saw fit. In fact, he’d done it himself a few (dozen) times, so he didn’t question the club owner’s actions. Plus, rules only mattered if there were punishments for breaking them. Normally, rules would just make Junghoon want to break them more, but he liked the club and he liked the owner even more. He wasn’t about to lose his weekend relaxation spot for some momentary fun.
“Oppa? Are you listening to me?” A somewhat annoying voice asked.
Junghoon glanced over and nodded, “of course, Soonhee-ah.”
“My name is Heejin,” the woman snapped, clearly upset.
“Whatever,” Junghoon said with a shrug. Names really weren’t his thing. They didn’t matter to him. Especially when it came to his hookups. Most of them were only there for his money anyway, so why bother learning their names if he was just going to cast them aside?
“Asshole,” Soonhee- Heejin muttered before grabbing her clutch and storming off. Junghoon watched her go, mildly irritated that he wouldn’t get laid tonight but decided he could just as easily call someone else and throw money at them until they said yes. Saved him from having to pretend he cared anyway.
With that decided, Junghoon gave in to his craving for a cigarette and slid out of the booth. It took longer than he would have liked to make his way through the club, the crushing sway of bodies blocking his path, but eventually, he stumbled outside. As always, he was greeted with the flashing of cameras and insistent yell from nosy reporters desperate for a scoop. Waving politely, Junghoon slipped away in search of somewhere he could smoke without glares from nearby patrons. Like with most things, his patience wore out before he actually found a suitable place so he strolled into an alleyway and pulled out his smoke.
The alley was dark, the only light coming from an old flickering bulb that seemed to be for employees of the restaurant in the building it was attached to and the embers of his cigarette. Junghoon breathed in deeply and relaxed against the brick wall and sighed, the jittery feeling that accompanied his craving finally settling. He was about halfway done when he heard shuffling from the entrance of the alleyway. Squinting now, he spotted a small figure carrying a camera. With a heavy sigh, Junghoon pushed himself away from the wall, “look, I gave you guys photos so can you not just fuck off?”
“You’re not supposed to smoke here,” the voice said calmly.
It was so quiet Junghoon had to lean in so he could hear it properly. When he did, he scoffed and turned away, “so report me and I’ll pay whatever measly fine there is. So fuck off.”
That was the last thing Junghoon said before his vision went black and he collapsed to the dirty alley floor. The small figure watched Junghoon’s motionless body for a moment longer before setting the camera down and approaching slowly. When they were close enough, the figure kneeled down and reached out to stub out the cigarette that had fallen from Junghoon’s fingers, “I told you not to smoke here.”
❇❇❇
The relentless buzz in his ears was the only thing driving Min Yoongi forward as he practically ran to his desk. The only thing on his mind was that he needed caffeine and he needed it now. Yoongi reached his desk with an audible sigh of relief and dropped his bag only to immediately start rummaging through his drawers in search of his stash of canned coffee he left there. It wasn’t the best, but it’d do in a pinch. Once he’d found it, Yoongi turned on his heel and weaved his way to the small lounge area they were provided for lunch breaks. In a process refined from countless hours of practice, Yoongi flipped on the kettle before scooping coffee grinds into a small filter and placing it over his large mug. Satisfied, Yoongi leaned against the counter and cracked open the canned coffee he still carried. Taking a long sip, Yoongi felt himself relax further and let himself space out as he waited for the kettle to boil. He was staring at the random face of an idol he couldn’t identify on the can in his hand when a voice cut into his thoughts. Or rather, lack of thoughts.
“You know how sickeningly unhealthy it is to drink one coffee while preparing another?”
Yoongi blinked and met the concerned eyes of Park Jimin, who was frowning at the can in his hand, “I just like coffee.”
“We call that caffeine addiction, hyung,” Jimin muttered. This was not a new conversation. They’d had it when they dated and though the relationship had long ended, this particular conversation hadn’t.
“TomAto, tomAHto,” Yoongi said with a shrug before turning around at the sound of the kettle flipping off so he could pour the water over the already prepared grinds. Jimin watched the slow movements for a moment then let out a frustrated sigh, which Yoongi took as a victory. As he always did.
“Whatever. Give yourself a heart attack. See if I care.”
“I’m sure your psychic friend will tell you if I’m going to die,” Yoongi teased, his sarcastic emphasis heavy on the word ‘psychic.’
“That’s not how it works, but whatever,” Jimin replied before a smile appeared on his face. Yoongi had known him long enough to not trust that smile. It was a smile that meant he knew something you would want to know, and that he was deciding how to best get what he wanted.
“What?” Yoongi asked despite knowing it was a bad idea.
Jimin smiled again as he made his way to the fridge. He took his time grabbing a drink as Yoongi watched. Acting on ingrained habit, Jimin also handed Yoongi the ice tray so he could ice his coffee. Without pause, Yoongi took the tray and began putting ice into his coffee but his eyes never left Jimin’s face. He knew Jimin was playing with him and he couldn’t help but wonder why. Eventually, Jimin closed the fridge and leaned against it, “I got a tip this morning that I think would tickle your fancy, and I’m going to give it to you for free.”
“Nothing you offer is free,” Yoongi muttered.
“Well, honestly, it’s either I give it to you or that new asshole. The one who wrote the story about the congressman.”
Yoongi nodded, “Ahn Donsuk-ssi.”
“Whatever,” Jimin sniffed dismissively, “I’d rather you get it than him. Call it generosity since I’ve seen your dick.”
“I don’t know what to say to that,” Yoongi said, eyes blinking owlishly.
“Just let me be nice!”
Yoongi laughed at Jimin’s reaction. He’d pushed himself up and stomped his foot. If he wasn’t legitimately terrifying when angry, Yoongi would think he was actually upset. There was still a light in his eye that suggested otherwise though, so Yoongi kept laughing, “fine, fine, what’s the tip?”
“Well, Park Junghoon-ssi was spotted leaving Hope World last night just after 1 a.m.”
“And that’s a scoop, how? He practically lives at that cesspool.”
“Okay, first of all, Hope World is nice. You can’t criticize places you’ve never been, you goddam hermit, and secondly, that was the last time anyone saw him before about twenty minutes ago.”
“I’m still not-”
“They found his body in a nearby alley,” Jimin cut in, tired of Yoongi’s skepticism regarding anything gossip related. That was also not a new part of their relationship. They’d met years ago when they were first hired and like most newbies they’d been shoved into the weekly gossip section. Yoongi had hated every second of it. The first thing Yoongi had done when he’d made a name for himself was transfer to investigative reporting. That was his real passion. Which was fine because Jimin really liked the gossip section. In fact, he ran it now as the chief editor, which was why he had some information no one else had. People often commented that Jimin only gave the good scoops to Yoongi, some even making derogatory remarks, but Jimin didn’t really care. He liked Yoongi, their past relationship and breakup hadn’t changed that. Plus, the new guy was a dick, so fuck him.
“Shit, he’s dead?” Yoongi asked, already scrambling to transfer his coffee into a travel container while chugging down the last of his canned coffee.
“I’ll text you the actual address, but you should hurry.”
Yoongi nodded and ran out of the room before rounding back and giving Jimin a firm hug, “thanks, Jiminie.”
“Just remember any gossip comes my way,” Jimin reminded him as he returned the hug.
“Deal!” Yoongi called back, disappearing around the corner again, only to reappear yet again, “wait, who caught the case?”
❇❇❇
There were a great many things Kim Namjoon was good at, and the things he wasn’t good at he could usually learn when he dedicated himself. Hiding his emotions was the one thing he’d never quite gotten the hang of though. Considering he spent a great deal of his time staring at dead bodies and dealing with the dregs of society, he figured not hiding his emotions was okay as long as it kept him connected to the real world, to his humanity.
He was clinging to that thought as he walked away from the crime scene to get a little bit of fresh air. The body was fresh enough that it didn’t smell a lot, but the alleyway had one (or ten) too many scents mingling together, none of which were good. It was giving him a headache. Or maybe that was the clusterfuck this case was inevitably going to turn into. The son and heir of a major corporation was dead. Murdered. And Namjoon had caught the case. It made Namjoon want to bang his head against the wall. Or cry. Or maybe both. Either way, it didn’t matter. A case was a case. Even if the victim was on pretty much everyone’s shit list.
Namjoon ducked under the crime scene tape and rounded the corner in search of a coffee shop. Instead, he found Yoongi sitting outside holding two coffees. Since one was hot, he knew it was for him, “what’re you doing here, hyung?”
Yoongi’s head snapped up and he smiled. It was a soft, gummy smile that was deceptively charming. If Namjoon didn’t know Yoongi so well, he’d have believed it. But he did, so instead Namjoon took the offered coffee and raised a brow, “well?”
“Got a tip you were working an important case. Wanted to come and talk to you about it,” Yoongi told him honestly, which Namjoon was thankful for. Yoongi was a shark, which is why Namjoon was always wary of him, but he was honest, which is why they maintained a good relationship anyway.
“How’d you hear?”
“Jiminie.”
“Of course. That man is a fucking lightning rod for information.”
“That he is,” Yoongi agreed as he took a sip of his coffee.
Namjoon noticed a travel mug sticking out of his bag and shook his head, “it’s like 8 a.m., how are you already two coffees in?”
“Not you too,” Yoongi muttered.
“Whatever, I’m not your mom. And you know I can’t give you information on a case.”
“I know that,” Yoongi assured him, “I just want to know if you think it’s worth my time. Off the record.”
Glancing back in the direction of the crime scene, Namjoon sighed, “definitely. It’s… not pretty.”
“Bad?”
“Very. I’m sure there’s a reason behind it, but I’m not sure what it is. Could be personal, he was a bit of a cheating dickbag,” Namjoon admitted. He’d been told once to never speak ill of the dead, but he’d since decided that he wouldn’t paint terrible people positively just because they were dead. And, by all accounts, Park Junghoon was a terrible person.
“Always possible,” Yoongi agreed, “that’s why Jiminie heard it first, I’m sure, but he seemed to think it was more up my alley than his. God knows why.”
“He has good instincts for stuff like that,” Namjoon acknowledged, looking back towards the crime scene again with a renewed focus.
“He does.”
Namjoon nodded, “I’m going to head back, thanks for the coffee.”
“No problem. Good luck, Detective Kim,” Yoongi called out, a small smile on his lips. If Namjoon-ah thinks there’s something, then there definitely is .
Now more determined than curious, Yoongi made himself busy interviewing the people hanging around and trying to get as much information as possible. Most people had arrived after the crime scene tape went up though, so it wasn’t super helpful. It wasn’t until almost an hour later that his break came. He watched as a skittish looking man ducked under the crime scene tape. He looked normal, definitely not a cop or lab tech, and he was patting his pockets anxiously. Seeing his chance, Yoongi jogged over then slowed to a stroll so it wouldn’t look suspicious. When he was close enough, he grabbed a cigarette from the pack he always kept on him, “hey, you have a light?”
The man jumped and spun around, eyes immediately zeroing in on the cigarette hanging from Yoongi’s lips, “only if you have an extra smoke.”
Wordlessly, Yoongi held out the pack and let the man take one. He watched as he lit it with shaking hands before taking a deep drag. He seemed to forget to offer Yoongi his lighter, but that was fine. He didn’t smoke anyway, “you good, man?”
“Uh, yea. Just- yea,” the man nodded, though he was clearly lying. Yoongi watched the man’s right-hand drop back to his pocket and fiddle anxiously with the seam.
Yoongi looked back at the crime scene like it had just occurred to him how close it was and widened his eyes, “did you actually see it?!”
“W-what? See what?”
“The murder! I live just there,” Yoongi lied, pointing towards the apartments above the restaurant the alleyway was behind, “I heard all the sirens and shit but didn’t see what was going on.”
The man paled a bit then nodded, “I found him.”
“Shit, man, you good?”
“No, there was so much fucking blood.”
“Can’t be that much,” Yoongi countered, hoping the man would contradict him.
He did.
“There was. It was everywhere. Like someone had filleted the guy.”
“Damn. Terrible way to die.”
The man nodded solemnly, “it seems so.”
Yoongi sighed, “too bad. I was hoping to score a picture. My landlord has been trying to raise rent and shit. Figured proof of a murder would keep him away.”
“A picture?” The man repeated, his fingers twitching in his pocket. He’d figured, at first, the man had just needed a smoke. He wasn’t wrong, but the way the man was almost protecting his pocket suggested something else.
“Yea, don’t landlords have to like, consider surrounding area crime and stuff in rent?” Yoongi asked. He knew that’s not how it worked, he’d rented long enough to know surrounding area meant shit to a landlord unless it was a super nice area or convenient and they could charge more but he was banking on the guy not realizing his idea was stupid.
“I-I heard that,” the guy agreed, nodding.
“Yea. Too bad I was too late though,” Yoongi sighed.
“I mean,” the guy hesitated, then pulled out his phone, “I took a picture just ‘cause- the dude’s famous so I just thought- you know, money’s tight.”
Yoongi hoped his expression showed pity and not disgust, “yea, times are hard.”
“Since you helped me out, it’s the least I can do,” the man said before turning the phone towards Yoongi so he could see the picture. It was nowhere near what he was expecting and he was sure that showed on his face because the guy made a sympathetic sound, “yea, imagine seeing it up close and personal.”
“Fuck, that's gruesome. Can you send it to me?” Yoongi asked.
“Sure, man,” the man nodded, “just enter your email.”
Acting quickly, Yoongi grabbed the phone and emailed the photo to the anonymous account he used for tips before handing it back, “thanks, man. There’s no way my rent’ll go up now.”
“No problem,” the man shrugged before his eyes flicked over Yoongi’s shoulder. Yoongi turned around to see Namjoon standing there, hands on his hips and eyebrow raised. Maintaining his facade, Yoongi turned back towards the man with wide eyes before fleeing into the building he’d claimed was his apartment. He waited a few moments before leaving again but Namjoon was still waiting, though the man was nowhere to be seen now.
“Come on, hyung.”
“I was just asking some questions.”
“You can’t question witnesses.”
“Then you should have watched him closer,” Yoongi said, shrugging.
Namjoon rubbed his forehead, “did you at least learn anything helpful?”
“Why would I tell you that?”
“Hyung! ”
Yoongi frowned, “fuck, fine, but only because I like you. He doesn’t know anything but he took a photo of the crime scene and he’s going to sell it.”
“For fuck sakes,” Namjoon cursed, already spinning to leave. Yoongi thought he’d keep going but he paused, “I’m assuming you have a copy.”
Yoongi blinked and pulled on his most innocent mask, “no, of course not.”
Namjoon snorted and shook his head, “you’re the literal worst.”
“You know I’m not a fucking jackal, Namjoon-ah.”
“I know, otherwise I’d confiscate your phone,” Namjoon told him honestly before continuing on his way. Yoongi used that as an opportunity to leave the scene. Just in case Namjoon changed his mind.
❇❇❇
Like most things in life, working was more bearable if you actually enjoyed what you did. When he was young, Jung Hoseok had decided he would do nothing if he wasn’t happy doing it. For a long time, that had meant living in terrible places that didn’t even deserve the name apartments, and eating an excessive amount of instant food. But he’d been happy. He’d stumbled onto his current venture almost entirely by luck. He’d been bartending at a small but well-run club when he’d met the man who would be his future business partner. During their many shifts together, they’d planned their ideal club and working environment. They’d never really meant to do it, but eventually, idle chit chat had turned to serious planning and then suddenly they’d been the proud owners of a space in Itaewon with a mind-boggling amount of debt under their names. But they owned it and that’s all that mattered. No part of it had been easy, in fact, it had been horrifically hard, but as Hoseok had said, if you enjoyed what you were doing, it was entirely bearable.
Now, more than ever, he had to live by that.
Moving through the dark club by memory alone, Hoseok flicked on the lights as he made his way to the bar. This was probably his favourite time of day. It was early still, only early afternoon, so the bar was quiet. It still faintly smelled like the cleaner the janitorial team had used the night after close and the air was still. Jungkook would come in soon, since his shift was about to begin, but for now, Hoseok was alone in his space. It was quite literally his happy space. It brought him a sense of calm.
That is, until someone knocked on the door. Hoseok frowned instinctively and looked at the door. It could be a delivery, in theory, but they always went to the backdoor and he wasn’t expecting anything. Not that he always knew what was ordered. He trusted Jungkook to order what was needed. Hoseok was going to just ignore it but the knocking came again, more insistent this time so Hoseok decided to just handle it.
He wasn’t sure what to expect honestly, but a small, bored-looking man clutching a cup of iced coffee was not it. Hoseok blinked at him, “um, can I help you?”
“Are you Jung Hoseok-ssi?”
“I am?” Hoseok said, his reply coming off more as a question than an answer in his confusion.
The small man nodded and handed him a card he’d pulled from his pocket. Hoseok took it automatically before looking down at the name:
Min Yoongi
Big Hit News
“Huh,” Hoseok murmured, “I’ve read your stuff.”
“Most people have.”
Hoseok snorted, a smile tugging his lips. He appreciated a man with confidence. It was clear he wasn’t boasting or being cocky. He was just stating the truth. He was a popular and well-known journalist. Even if someone didn’t know his name, they’d likely still read something he’d written, “well what does someone so important want with little old me?”
“To ask you a few questions.”
“Come on in then,” Hoseok decided after contemplating for a second. He wasn’t sure what the Min Yoongi would want with him, but he figured he should find out. Yoongi only wrote important stories, things with impact, so if he was writing about anything that included Hoseok, it was better to be aware of it before it hit the internet. Hoseok rounded the bar quickly and gestured for Yoongi to take a seat. He didn’t, but Hoseok didn’t let that bother him. Instead, he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and leaned over the bar, resting his head in his hand, “so, what do you want to know?”
Yoongi tilted his head, confused by the man in front of him. He’d expected someone a bit more… extra, he supposed. He’d heard things, of course, from Jimin and around town. Jung Hoseok was well known for being loud and over the top. Not in a bad way, more in the life of the party way. The man in front of him now was quieter, more contained. His eye contact was unnerving though and Yoongi had to force himself not to look away. He didn’t think he was doing a great job.
“So, you own Hope World?” Yoong began, deciding to start simply.
“I do,” Hoseok replied, leaning even closer so he could get a good look at Yoongi’s face. It was cute and small. Like a circle. He was beautiful.
“Why choose that name?”
Hoseok frowned, staring at his lips now. They seemed to naturally pout and Hoseok was having a hard time concentrating on anything else now that he’d noticed. They looked soft, “because having hope is important.”
Yoongi nodded, “though this place is small, it has quite the reputation. Celebrities and politicians alike frequent it but so do many normal, everyday types.”
“Is that a question?” Hoseok asked, smiling again just to see how Yoongi would react. There wasn’t much, just a quick blink before his eyes shifted away but Hoseok took that as a positive.
“More of an observation. A lot of money runs through this place. Not always from the best people.”
That question snapped Hoseok out of his idle fantasies, making him frown for real, “I’m not sure I like that insinuation, Min Yoongi-ssi.”
“Why?”
“Because I have rules. No crime on the premises. People don’t break it,” Hoseok answered seriously.
“There’s no way for you to know that.”
“Yes,” Hoseok said firmly, “there is. And they don’t.”
Yoongi’s brows furrowed, “that sounds vaguely like a threat.”
Hoseok shrugged, “some people see it that way, yes.”
“One patron, in particular, interests me,” Yoongi told him, deciding it was best to move on, “Park Junghoon-ssi.”
“And that’s when I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” Hoseok decided, pushing himself up from the bar. Yoongi may be cute and just the type Hoseok liked to take to bed for a night or two of fun but he didn’t like where this was going, so he’d end it, “I don’t reveal information about my patrons.”
“Even if they’re bad people?”
“Even so. I don’t have to like the people who come here as long as they obey my rules and pay their tab. Say what you want about Park Junghoon-ssi, but he does both,” Hoseok continued as he moved to direct Yoongi out of the club.
But Yoongi’s next comment stopped him, “not anymore.”
Hoseok narrowed his eyes and looked back, “what’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means he’s dead. He was murdered after leaving here last night.”
“What?” Hoseok asked in shock before grabbing his phone out of his pocket to look up Park Junghoon online. As one would expect, his death was on the front page of every news site. Hoseok lowered the phone, shock clear on his features, “shit. He was so young.”
“You knew him well?”
“No, not really,” Hoseok confessed, his entire demeanour different now that he knew Junghoon was dead, “he was here every weekend, generally both days, but I don’t handle the floor business as much anymore. We’ve met a few dozen times though. He was an asshole.”
“People keep saying that, yes.”
“But that doesn’t mean he deserved to die. People can grow out of being assholes. He should have had the chance to do that,” Hoseok murmured, suddenly sad for a young life being cut off.
“What can you tell me about the people he interacted with here? What was he like?” Yoongi asked.
“I don’t know. He always had a crowd with him. Or usually at least. He was with some girl last night. Don’t know her name but she’s a regular of sorts. The club hopper type. Jungkook-ah would probably know.”
“And who’s that?”
“My bartender. And bar manager. And basically whatever else I need.”
Yoongi raised an eyebrow at the implication of that but didn’t comment. Instead, he continued, “could I get his contact info?”
“No, but he’ll be in soon. He’s scheduled to open in fifteen minutes.”
“Do you mind if I wait around?”
“As long as you don’t mind me working,” Hoseok shrugged, though his mind was clearly elsewhere now. Yoongi watched him move around the club doing whatever it was owners of such places did. He couldn’t help but notice how smoothly he moved. Hoseok seemed to have a natural grace about him that Yoongi admired. Jimin had often teased him for the way he walked. He didn’t really get it but more than one person had told him he waddled. At first it’d bothered him but he’d gotten over it fairly quickly. Wasn’t like he could change it.
Yoongi was still staring at Hoseok when a loud voice echoed through the club from the direction of the back room, “HYUNG HAVE YOU SEEN THE FUCKING NEWS?!”
Hoseok's head snapped up, “yes, come out here quickly!”
A tall, young man, who Yoongi assumed was Jungkook, emerged from the back then, wearing an entirely black outfit. Yoongi took in the sleeve tattoos and piercings with interest before refocusing on his face. Yoongi found himself frowning, wondering if everyone who worked at the club was beautiful. Jungkook didn’t seem to notice him though, as he went straight for Hoseok, “someone fucking off’d that tool. Do you think it was someone he met here? He’s probably pissed off half our clientele at one point or another.”
“I don’t know,” Hoseok admitted rubbing his forehead, “but this man wants to ask you a few questions.”
Jungkook followed the direction Hoseok’s hand was pointing and finally noticed Yoongi. Immediately his eyes narrowed, “you police?”
“Journalist.”
“Worse. A parasite.”
“Jungkookie!”
“What? He clearly thinks you’re involved!”
“Do I?” Yoongi wondered.
“Why else would you come here? Dude’s body isn’t even cold and you’re trying to find a story.”
“Or maybe I just want to know what happened to him.”
“Did you know him?” Jungkook asked, eyes still narrowed.
“No.”
“Then I maintain my previous statement.”
Yoongi’s eyebrows rose and disappeared underneath his bangs. He glanced at Hoseok, who looked equal parts surprised and frustrated, before refocusing on Jungkook, “awfully defensive.”
“Don’t trust people like you,” Jungkook admitted with a shrug.
“I understand,” Yoongi agreed, “but I bet you’re good at reading people from your job. What do you see when you look at me?”
Jungkook narrowed his eyes again, this time focusing for a different reason then sighed, “an overworked hermit who spends way too much time behind a computer and is in desperate need of getting laid.”
“JUNGKOOKIE!” Hoseok snapped again, this time his expression showed anger, “don’t talk to people that way! What is wrong with you today?!”
“It’s okay,” Yoongi assured, “I asked him to. Do you think someone like that would investigate Park Junghoon-ssi’s death for personal gain?”
“No, probably not,” Jungkook decided after a moment, “what do you want to know?”
“Who did he hang out with? Who was he with last night?”
Jungkook moved closer and held out a hand for Yoongi’s notebook. Yoongi hesitated but handed it over along with his pen. Taking them, Jungkook scribbled some names down before handing it back, “I don’t know all of them but I do know regulars. And the girl last night was pissed off. He called her by the wrong name and they’d been fucking for months.”
“Seems like a reason to be justifiably angry,” Yoongi reasoned.
“Sure, I guess, if you didn't know what he was like. He’s been fucking at least three other girls and one other guy the whole time. That’s just how he is- was. You don’t get involved with someone like that and expect him to be different.”
Yoongi glanced down at the names he’d been given and nodded, “no, I suppose not. Thank you for this.”
Jungkook shrugged, “whatever gets you out of here.”
“I’ll show myself out,” Yoongi informed him. He wasn’t sure why Jungkook seemed to hate him so much, but Yoongi decided it was probably best not to stick around and agitate him more, so he shoved his notebook away and left quickly. Just as the door was about to close behind him, he glanced back. Jungkook had returned to Hoseok’s side. He looked upset and worried. But that wasn’t what made him pause. No, that was the look on Hoseok’s face. He looked devastated.
It appears Jung Hoseok-ssi knows more than he’s letting on.