Izzy's high heels clicked eerily across the marble floors of the hotel lobby. Crowds of the obviously and obnoxiously rich roamed through the lobby and filled the space with hushed chatter that did nothing to mask the clicking of Izzy's heels. She drew in a breath with each shaky step forward. The urge to scratch and rip at her own skin was coming back with a vengeance and Izzy's fingers curled into tight fists, her fingernails digging painfully into her palms. She couldn't give in to the withdrawal. She had to be strong for Jimin. She hadn't admitted it to anyone, but Jimin was the only thing keeping her from relapsing. Seeing the pain in his eyes was something she never wanted to live through again. So Izzy was trying to be strong. For Jimin.

"Gentlemen!" The hotel manager nearly tripped over his own feet in his hurry to greet the boys. "So glad to see you here tonight," the look of relief in his eyes at seeing the boys was one that couldn't be faked.

"Of course, thank you for letting us know about the game," Namjoon shook the mans hand.

So this is who he'd been on the phone with? Izzy's eyes darted back and forth between the manager and Namjoon as she hid timidly behind Jungkook's broad shoulders. She never had been good with meeting new people, but that anxiety was amplified now that she feared people could see the dark circles of exhaustion and withdrawal beneath her eyes. Izzy didn't want the world to know her struggles. She hadn't even wanted the boys to know; but that's not say that she wasn't glad that they did. These boys had saved her on more than one occasion, and Izzy could try all she wanted but there was no hiding anything from them.

"Izzy!" She was startled out of her thoughts by Jungkook's voice calling her.

"What? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, breathe Izz," he rubbed his warm hands across her shoulders. "Come on, we're going into the ballroom now."

He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her along after the boys who, sure enough, were being escorted into a grand ballroom by the hotel manager.

"Have a good night, gentlemen," the manager shook Namjoon's hand again before practically sprinting away to greet a callous looking man in a smoke-gray suit. Izzy was busy examining the tiny scuff on the toe of her shiny black shoe when the boys pulled her attention again.

"Izzy, are you okay?" Jin lifted her chin with a gentle hand and stared intently into her tired eyes.

"Yes, I'm fine," she lied.

"Because we can go home right now if you want to."

Izzy's pulse quickened, "No! No, I don't want to go home yet," and that was the truth. A serious case of cabin-fever had set in over the course of the past few days. "I promise I'm alright," and she was back to lying.

"Alright," Jin seemed to buy it. "We're going to go place our bets," he told her. "Stay right here and do not move an inch, do you understand?"

"Yes," she nodded hastily. It's not like there was anywhere else she could go right now anyway.

"Okay, we'll be right back," Jin took a moment to adjust a stray hair on Izzy's head before leading the others to a tuxedoed man who was obviously taking out bets from anyone who wanted a chance to win big tonight or anyone who just had too much money and nothing to do with it. Jimin was at the tail of their group, lagging a bit behind the others and Izzy took that opportunity to grab his wrist and pull him back to her.

This was it. She was going to tell him that she couldn't stand being away from him anymore. But Jimin stared at her with emotionless eyes and Izzy's courage left as quickly as it had come.

"Uh, here," her shaky fingers pealed his blazer off of her shoulders and held it out to him. Jimin stared blankly at the fabric, his jaw clenched.

"Thanks," he removed the jacket from her fingers and swung it over his own shoulders before turning away from her yet again. He joined the boys in line and Izzy sighed heavily to herself, trying to keep the sobs and ugly tears down.

After the longest minute she'd ever felt, Izzy finally ripped her gaze away from Jimin's tense back and her eyes scanned the room as the boys talked quietly to themselves where they were waiting in line to get to the tuxedoed dealer. They were in a massive ballroom, with a gargantuan table smack dab in the middle of it. Women wearing diamonds the size of baseballs littered the edges of the room, fake smiles plastered onto their faces as suit-clad businessmen, who apparently had too much money, eyed the competition as they waited for the game to start.

As her eyes went around the room Izzy noticed a group of middle aged men who were mumbling something to each other as they cast strange glances in her direction. So caught up in her thoughts, Izzy didn't notice that she'd begun to move around the edge of the room, slowly moving further and further away from the boys. One of the men across the room broke off from their group, Izzy looked up just in time to see his shiny leather shoes come to a stop two feet away from the hem of her dress.

"Hello," he greeted in a smooth voice, it made her skin crawl. It was that same callous man in the gray suit.

"Hi," she mumbled back. She didn't want to be talking to him.

"My friends and I over there were talking and I believe you owe each of us a night." Izzy took a startled step back, tripping clumsily on the hem of her dress.

"W-what?" Her head shook side to side. "No-no I don't know you, any of you, but I definitely know that I don't owe any one of you a 'night', whatever the hell that means."

This guy was crazy, bonkers, off his rocker. What in gods name was he talking about?

"Well I know it was a while ago, but I believe you know Lee Youngkyun," Izzy's breath hitched in her throat. "Well he laid out a bet for a night with you—I believe it was you, you look just like the picture—then he lost the game and Lee Youngkyun has yet to pay us out on that bet," Izzy couldn't breathe anymore. What kind of sick joke was this?

"So I believe you owe me a night," the sick grin on his face had Izzy's stomach turning over, and not in a good way.

"Who the hell are you?" A voice from behind her growled at the man before Izzy could even speak.

"I-I'm—"

"Get away from her. Right now." A strong arm pulled Izzy by the waist and held her tightly to a firm chest.

The man she'd been talking to looked about ready to crap his tailor-made dress pants. He tried to suppress the fear in his eyes as he visibly gulped and dashed back to his friends.

"Izzy are you okay? What did that guy say to you? Did he hurt you? Izzy? Izz—" Jimin's frantic questioning was cut short when Izzy threw her arms around his neck and pulled him flush against her.

"Thank you. I'm okay, Jimin. I'm okay," and she was, because he was here with her, he was speaking to her again. That man really did scare her, but she knew that her boys would protect her, they would always be there for her. Jimin would always be there for her.

He hugged her back so tightly that Izzy felt the heavy sigh that worked its way up his chest and out of his pale lips. Jimin pulled back from the hug, but his hands stayed firmly on Izzy's waist, he wasn't letting her out of his sight this time. Screw it. He was done ignoring her. He couldn't take it anymore. When he saw that vile man talking to Izzy—his Izzy—with that sick grin on his face, something inside of Jimin had just snapped. And he knew that he just couldn't stay away from her anymore. Because she was his own drug, and the withdrawal he'd been going though simply wasn't worth it. No high could beat the feeling of her in his arms. And he didn't know it, but she was thinking precisely the same thing.

"We're glad you're okay Izzy," the boys nodded in agreement with Yoongi's words. "But what did that guy say to you? You looked like you were about to pass out." Izzy stared intently at the knot of Jimin's tie, wrapping her fingers around the lapels of his blazer for comfort. He was her rock, he kept her steady. And Izzy was beyond glad to have him back.

"He said that he gambled with my ex-boyfriend a while ago, and Youngkyun apparently bet a night with me and he lost. The guy was coming to collect his winnings." She shut her eyes, anxious of their response.

"Shit!" Namjoon's suddenly shouted as his hands raked anxiously through his hair, messing up the neat strands. "Shit, shit, shit!"

"Joon—"

"I didn't confirm it!" Namjoon looked frantic, like he was about to have a panic attack.

"Confirm what?" Izzy pried as Yoongi's eyes widened in understanding.

"Holy shit," he muttered.

"What?" Izzy looked desperately at the boys one by one, trying to figure out what it was that they weren't telling her.

"I never called the manager to confirm that Youngkyun wouldn't be at this game!" Namjoon finally exploded. "I always call! I always make sure that we don't run into him. Why the hell didn't I call?" His fingers yanked harshly at the roots of his hair, knuckles turning white.

"Joon!" His wild eyes snapped to Izzy. "It's okay," she tried to comfort him. "It'll be okay. The chances that he's here are tiny, practically nonexistent. Please relax, Joon." She took a small step towards him and gently pried his stiff hands away from his now ruined hair. "He won't be here," Izzy only said it to comfort Namjoon. In truth she had no idea if Youngkyun was coming tonight or not, and the thought of seeing him again terrified her to no end.

"Okay," Namjoon nodded hesitantly. "Alright. Let's just focus on the game and leave as soon as we can." Yoongi nodded in agreement, his face was blank but Izzy noticed the slight hint of panic in his eyes; he was worried too. All the boys looked uneasy for that matter. Hoseok's eyes were darting around the room, Taehyung and Jungkook were exchanging worried glances, Jin was busy trying to comfort Namjoon, and Jimin had a death-grip on Izzy's waist, which he wasn't planning to release any time soon.

It was going to be a long night.