"You cannot wear that."

The voice is blunt, condescending, and clad with a general casualty that drives you to clenching your fists until the knuckles stand out bone-white under your skin.

If you hear that voice one more time, your brain might implode inside your skull.

You can't afford splattering your own brain matter across Mina's bedroom when you need to focus on getting Taehyung and everyone else out safe and sound.

This is it - today is the day.

More specifically, tonight is the night.

As you get dressed in Mina's room, the men are decking themselves out in the classic combo of black-tied tuxedos and dark-metaled handguns. Tonight, you're going to rescue Taehyung from your gross failure of a father and end this once and for all.

That is, if you can manage to get out the door in a dress Mina approves of.

The one you're wearing now is apparently not up to her standards.

In the mirror, the simple black dress looks completely fine. It's knee length and sleeveless, with a cute skirt that flows out in an A line from your waist.

There's absolutely nothing wrong with it.

But Mina still says, "I swear, you cannot go to a party in that. You look like a waitress."

Gritting your teeth, you run the flat of your hands down the dress' skirt and gradually rotate to face Mina.

She's sitting on her bed, cross-legged and glaring, like the dress you chose from her own closet is some sort of slimy, horrifying monster.

"This is your dress," you say slowly, tempering your voice to stay polite. "It's subtle and it'll help me blend in."

"It's boring." Tossing her hair, Mina pushes herself up, standing before you in all her slender, perfect glory. She sneers. "I wore that to my grandmother's funeral."

"Just leave it," you groan. You turn to the mirror and start to pull your hair up into a conservative bun. This is a rescue mission, completely opposite to your original intention to stand out, loud and proud.

You think blending in will be way better then standing out in this situation.

"Look," Mina sighs, "I'm sorry if I'm being a jerk, but I'm just telling you honestly. You legitimately cannot wear that to a party. Nobody is going to take you seriously."

Determined with her own plan, Mina marches back to her closet, where she has a shockingly large array of glittering cocktail dresses and formal gowns.

At you initial reaction of incredulity, she had simply shrugged and said, "what's wrong with liking to dress up and look pretty?"

You had snapped your mouth shut, because technically, the answer was nothing.

Although you refuse to give in to her overzealous attempts to stuff you into a purple mermaid dress with a tulle train, you suppose you can't avoid every dress Mina throws your way.

"Here," she exclaims suddenly, bouncing on her toes in excitement as she pulls something long and fire-engine red from the closet. "This is perfect. You have to wear this one."

Of course it's the gaudiest, most vibrant red - how much more cliche could you possibly get at this point?

"Heck no!" you hiss like a cat that's been thrown into a bucket of water, swatting at the dress as Mina parades it around in front of you.

It's a kind of watered silk, the same brilliant red of the setting sun across the ocean. The heart-shaped neckline flows down into a long skirt, and the way it moves as Mina swings it reminds you of the material of a high-quality kimono.

You have to admit that it's very beautiful.

However, it would be entirely too loud to wear this time. You're going to rescue Taehyung, not to enjoy the party.

You have to keep in mind that Mina doesn't know that, though. She doesn't know anything about what's going on - only that this is a very important party that you're all attending.

"Jut try it," sighs the other woman, her voice and compilation of exasperation and irritation. Simply because she looks like she might throw a hissy fit if you don't, you take the dress from her insistent hands and lay it out gently in the bed.

You strip the black one off, shivering in the chilly air, and slide into the red one. It feels like heaven against your skin, cool and smooth and rippling. It fits well, too, snug just under your bust and free-falling into a river of luxurious scarlet silk.

You twirl a little, stepping out, and gasp when almost your entire leg is revealed by a slit up the left side of the dress.

Now your tattoo is revealed in almost full detail, flowers spiraling and curling, shining back darkly from the frothy red around it.

Holy crap. "What the heck? My entire freaking leg is out! I can't wear this!"

"Yes, you can." Mina appears like a specter in the mirror behind you, her hands lithely undoing the tuck of your bun so that your hair falls heavy and free around your shoulders. "You look hot. Come here, I'll do your makeup."

She grabs your shoulders with a nastily strong grip and directs you into the hallway.

Through the opening that leads to the living room, you catch a tiny glimpse of a slim figure clad in black stride by - but you can't tell which of the men it is. They're all too busy finalizing last minute details to notice you and Mina slip into the bathroom.

How does such a slender person have so much strength?

Mina shoves you up to the counter and pulls out a massive zipper bag, starting to pull out  various lipsticks and mascaras and powders. She lays them all out and steps back, carefully observing them like an array of weapons.

Then she gets to work.

Although you wear makeup and feel like you're capable enough to get by, Mina does things with the colors and shades that you never could've imagined.

By the time she's done, you still look like you, but barely.

Your lips look full and soft instead of their normal dry, cracked state, and your eyes are bright and wide. The sultry red lipstick takes all the silk and swirl from your dress and translates it into vibrant expression in your face.

Every frown is a luscious pout, every squint a seductive narrowing of your eyes.

Mina's a magician.

At that moment, the door vibrates with a quiet knock, drawing both of your gazes there as the wood cracks open and Jimin sticks his head in.

His mouth opens to speak, but he snaps it back closed when he catches a glimpse of you. His small, lovely eyes widen into saucers.

"Wow. That's perfect!"

"Perfect? How is this perfect?" You look yourself up and down in the mirror, speechless. You can't blend in this way - Mina did too good of a job.

Clasping his cute fingers together, Jimin tiptoes into the room.

His slender, lithely muscled figure is clad in a form-fitting tuxedo, classic black. He looks sharp enough to cut in it, the bright orange hair somehow making the whole visage even more appealing. His eyes are lined with black, cheek piercings shining proudly from the hollows.

"Everyone's going to notice you," Jimin says happily, thick lips curled into a grin.

He's almost bouncing in energetic anticipation of the heist. No, not of the heist - of getting Taehyung back.

You imagine that one you're all safe and sound and together, Jimin will practically explode.

"How is that good?" you stress, flapping indicative hands at yourself. "How will I blend in? How will I sneak around?"

"Sneak around?" Jimin scoffs. "You aren't sneaking around anywhere, Y/N. You, and Jungkook and Yoongi hyung? You guys are the distraction."

The what?

"I want to help!" you exclaim, setting your hands determinedly on your hips.

"You are helping." Jimin takes your hands in his and looks earnestly into his eyes, dark and sober. "We need you to keep the big bosses talking, hm? The members of Bangtan are kept pretty much secret - they know of Jungkook, of course, and probably me as well, but no one else is sure who exactly is a 'Bangtan Boy'. Everyone else has been pretty low key. Most people won't recognize them."

That makes sense. Even if the others are recognized, they have no ties to Bangtan from their past. Because they've all been basically reborn into this new family, their old families would have no reason to suspect any connection.

And putting the single most well know member out in the middle of the ball room, accompanied by an ex-mob boss of legendary status will draw the attention of everyone.

That would give the others a perfect opportunity to find and extract Taehyung, while all the big, important men are focused on you, Jungkook, and Yoongi.

The decoys.

Sighing at the undoubtably logic of their plan, you slump your shoulders. "Fine. I'm almost done. Just wait a minute."

With a thumbs up, Jimin scampers back out the door.

You, in turn, take one last glimpse of the siren-like reflection of yourself in the mirror, square your shoulders, and start to move toward the door.

Mina catches your shoulder.

"Do you know another reason-" she asks, "I made you wear this dress?"

Her voice is sly, slick.

"No. Why?"

With a clever smile, the cat that ate the canary, Mina sings, "It's red."

Nothing is connecting. Why does red matter?

"So?"

With an offhanded shrug, Mina leans past you and pulls open the door. As you inhale and take a step out, her odd question already disappearing from your mind, Mina leans forward again.

She whispers, "Red is Jungkook's favorite."

And pushes you out the door.

[A/N]
Unedited
Sorry for the wait! I'm sure y'all understand how crazy holidays can be.

That being said, Merry Christmas! Happy New Year! Merry Kwanza, and Happy Hanukkah! I hope your holidays have been filled with love and family.

Also, please go check out my new book Spark if you get a chance! I think it's turning out pretty cool!
❤️PB