Page 75 of Damian & Jun: Episodes 1-4
Yohei’s eyes sharpened. He glanced at the officer pushing Jun. The officer was looking backward. He reached into Jun’s shirt, half torn open at the neck already, and grabbed the black cord of the pouch with Jun’s mother’s jade Buddha and jerked hard once. It came free.
“Give it to Damian.”
Yohei gave a sharp nod, his head jerking as two officers grabbed him by the shoulders and threatened him with arrest, throwing him into a wall.
Jun blinked back furious tears. He tripped as they pushed him through double doors. Behind, voices threw out threats of mass arrest if anyone followed any farther.
So close. They had been so close. Or had it all been a dream?
Hallways and elevators blurred past. Distantly, he recognized that he was being taken along the underground service tunnels between high-rises. They came out in an underground parking garage. No marked cars in sight.
Bak huffed, going in front. “We got him.”
One of the officers grunted. Bak turned toward his own car. Right before he opened his door, he turned back, storming across the asphalt, his hands in fists. “You’ve brought this on yourself, boy. This is your last chance.”
Last chance for what? Jun glared. You’re not my future. You’re the past.
Bak wagged his finger in Jun’s face. “Fix your attitude, boy. If you won’t do it for yourself, do it for the others.”
I have been—fixing my attitude. And where did that get us? Still nothing left Jun’s lips.
Bak stared at Jun’s face. Whatever he saw there must have been unsatisfying. He slammed his hand on the side of the SUV behind Jun’s head, leaning in, forcing Jun back against the surface. Cold from the metal seeped through Jun’s shirt at his back. Bak was so close the stench of his sweat wafted through his coat. The musky odor of yesterday’s clothes. At least that was satisfying. While Jun had been sleeping peacefully beside Damian, Bak had been doing anything but resting.
Bak grabbed him by the front of his shirt. “Don’t think I’ll give in, boy. I have friends. I can burn you and the others, BBB3 even, to the ground if I need to. I don’t need you; you need me.”
Jun’s eyes focused on a cement pillar in the distance over Bak’s shoulder. He read the level number. They were so far below ground.
If you didn’t need me, you wouldn’t be trying so hard.
Strange how there was so much clarity in the cold morning air now after all those years. He looked back at Bak’s face. It looked strange. How had he never noticed how ugly Bak was?
Bak threw him backward even though there was nowhere for Jun to go. His head bounced off the SUV’s window. “Give the chief what he wants, or I’ll let you see Jaewoong giving it to him instead, maybe Su-jin.”
Bak backed away, pulling out a case, and lit an expensive-looking cigar with shaking fingers. You are cooking the books; you have to be. How can you afford that? Jun stared at Bak even as they forced him into the back seat of the SUV.
The windows were tinted.
One of the officers bound Jun’s hands in front of him and then attached them to the floor of the vehicle with a chain. Jun continued to stare at Bak. So many years he’d followed the manager. So many lessons. Hours and hours of practice. Publicity appearances. Bak had been his life, at one point, before 5N debuted. And a huge part of it even after.
I’m just looking out for you, Junseo. You have to understand, Junseo. Come on, one more rep, Junseo. Get it fucking together, Junseo, what did I raise you as, a hippo? Don’t eat that, boy, you’ve had enough. Smile, Junseo. Good one, boy. Now if you can just hit the top of that chart regularly, I’ll know I didn’t waste my time on you.
The roaring in his ears drowned out the sounds of the police officers around him getting ready to leave. One climbed into the seat beside him and wrapped a black face mask around Jun’s nose and chin and pulled a hat over his head, handling him like he was a horse at a show.
I should be heading to the airport by now.
Bak puffed at his cigar, leaning against his car, watching. Jun didn’t look away until the SUV started upward leaving Bak behind. Jun closed his eyes as they drove out of the garage into the sunlight. Hands started to pat him down, taking off his shoes, scanning him for tech.
“He’s clean, not even a phone,” someone muttered.
Good. Damian must have snatched his passport out of his pocket at the last moment. Jun pushed them away from his senses. If he closed his eyes and held still enough, then none of this would be real.
Damian, I’m sorry.
They blindfolded him eventually. The last thing he saw was when the car turned off into the mountains outside the city. Then they drove for a long time.
Eventually, the SUV slowed and meandered. In time, it stopped entirely. Someone freed the chain from the floor. One of the police officers ordered him out of the vehicle. Frosty air hit his neck and blew through his shirt. Guess they hadn’t thought to bring a coat for him. Gravel crunched under his shoes. Hands on his arms forced him forward, guiding him over a stony path. Gates, then doors, opened and shut. Warmer air wafted over his skin where it showed. Hands took his shoes and shoved his feet into house slippers. He shuffled blindly over what felt like polished wood floors. More doors and hallways. Hands pulled the blindfold away.
He blinked his vision back into focus as the handcuffs were removed to see a newly built room in traditional hanok style. Golden wood walls and floors surrounded him. Through the glass panes of a pair of sliding lattice doors was a pale gray stone courtyard. Two steps down on four sides led to a flat square of stone flagons. A single twisted pine grew sideways from an ancient dark-red jar in the center of the square. Modern brevity melded seamlessly with traditional hanbok architecture style. Giwa, traditional roofing tile, rested on round rafters, the pole ends hanging over the courtyard, symmetrically beautiful and functional. Nothing like the dorms of BBB3.
