"Just sell me five more," she pleaded.

"I sold you eight pills two days ago, where are you putting all this stuff?" The guy cocked his head to the side, making the black fabric of his hood shift a bit on his head, but it never revealed his face. "Are you sure you should be taking this much?"

Izzy scoffed, "What the hell does it matter to you how much I take? I give you money and you give me the pills, that's the arrangement. You don't ask about my personal life and I don't ask about yours," she was seething. This guy had absolutely no right to question anything she did. He was the one selling drugs!

"Whatever," he dismissed the issue and held out his hand. Izzy eagerly placed all the money from her last few shifts at the cafe into his open palm and watched anxiously as he proceeded to count it far too slowly. "Here," he tucked the money into his jacket and chucked a baggie of seven white pills at her then she was off.

Izzy rushed down the street while trying to conceal the pills in her pocket. Her shift at the cafe had finished not even fifteen minutes ago and her first stop was to that dim alleyway to get her daily vice. The pills worked well at first, but the more she took the less effect they had on her, and the more she now had to buy. What she was doing—taking morphine and hiding it from the boys—was bad, but she couldn't stop. Especially not when those vile words never stopped circling in her head. Sweet Cheeks. Jae had called her that a hundred times over and she resisted the urge to gag every time he did so. But what really and truly had been eating away at her for the past nine days is the fact that Youngkyun had referred to her by those same exact words when he had been in the cafe fighting with Mrs. Lee. Izzy hadn't realized it until Wednesday night when she sat squished between Jungkook and Jimin on the couch as they munched happily on their food. It had taken her two damn days to figure out why Youngkyun's words had sounded so familiar. And it was taking her nine damn days more trying to figure out why he even called her that. In the two years that they had dated, those words had never slipped from his tongue; Jae was the only one who had ever called her that. So what the hell did this mean? Was it just a dumb coincidence? Or did Youngkyun and Jae somehow know each other? Sure, Youngkyun had been the one to introduce Izzy and Cassie in the first place, but that was before she started dating Jae. Izzy's hands tore out hair at the roots as she wracked her brain for answers. But none came. It simply didn't make sense.

Her feet slapped heavily against the building steps as she ascended to the apartment. A horrible thought crossed her mind just as her hand reached for the door knob and Izzy immediately hated herself for thinking it. I hope the boys aren't home. She was a horrible, despicable, wretched excuse for a friend. Those boys had taken her in, given her a home, and kept her as happy as they possibly could. And how did she repay them? By bringing drugs into their home, lying, and ignoring them. Izzy sighed and opened the door.

The sobering side of Izzy told her that she was an awful person for being so dismissive with them lately. But the exhausted part of her that was suffering withdrawals after only a few hours without her fix hissed only about how the boys were overbearing. They kept a constant vigil on her, continuously asked her how she was doing, they treated her like a patient and she was so damn sick of it. And no matter how many times she uttered the words "I'm fine," Namjoon's steely eyes never dropped their suspicion.

She stepped into the apartment. The lights were on inside and the boys lounged lazily around the room. Izzy heard the faint sound of water running, someone must be in the shower, and after a quick look around the living room she determined that it was Jimin. Perfect. She would have just enough time to hide her stash. Izzy mumbled a quick hello to the boys and rushed into her bedroom. Tunnel vision overcame her; when her mind was focused on the drugs she couldn't see anything else. Which is exactly why she didn't notice when the shower shut off or when the bedroom door creaked open.

"What are you doing?" The voice behind her made Izzy jump. She'd been busy stuffing the baggie into the far corner of her pillowcase when Jimin entered the room.

"Oh! Uh, nothing," she whirled around to face him and froze in her tracks, eyes wide. Jimin was standing shirtless in the doorway, running a towel through his damp hair. He looked incredible.

"Oh good god," Izzy whispered.

"What's that?"

"Nothing! Nothing, I was just thinking that I might take a nap," her tunnel vision had been effectively redirected to his exposed skin. "Work was pretty tiring today. But I guess if I go to sleep now I won't be able to sleep at night, so I think I should just skip it." Jimin observed her silently, dropping his towel into the laundry basket by the door.

"Yeah, napping at five in the afternoon might not be the best thing for your sleeping routine." Jimin's eyebrows furrowed.

"Speaking of sleep, have you been getting enough lately?" He stepped closer, "You've been tossing a lot at night and your eyes look tired. Are you okay?" If he kept coming closer like he was doing right now Izzy might do something that is beyond the acceptable limits of friendship.

"Yeah I'm fine—" he took a step closer, "Just could you uh—" another step, "You um—" his bare torso ran into her outstretched hand, the hand she had put up to keep him from coming closer, but evidently a hand wasn't going to stop him.

"Izzy," his voice was low and he kept his stance, not moving forward or back. "What's been going on with you lately?" Her hand remained splayed over his bare stomach, she tried to refrain from running her fingertips over the solid grooves of his muscles.

"Nothing," she lied, "I told you guys already, I've just been taking on a bit too much at work lately, that's all."

She failed in her attempt to control herself. Izzy's fingers gently traced over Jimin's smooth skin as they stood staring at one another. He took a step closer.

"Izzy," his voice trailed off. In truth he hadn't know what he was even planning to say to her. Jimin was far too distracted by her wandering hand to form any sort of coherent sentence. His own hands fell to her waist and pulled her just a tiny bit closer. Izzy's spare hand gripped his shoulder tightly, her legs were turning to jelly and she desperately needed the support.

"I need you to be okay, Izzy." He laid his forehead against hers. "You have to be okay," Jimin pleaded.

"I am okay," the air in her lungs had abandoned her the second his hands landed on her waist.

"Good." Jimin didn't show any signs of wanting to move. Izzy swallowed nervously.

"I should uh, take a shower," she had to get out of this room somehow before she did something really stupid—like kiss him—which she was incredibly tempted to do at the moment.

Jimin sighed, "Alright." It took all the self-restraint and strength that Jimin had in his body to let her go. He really wanted to kiss her. 

Jimin watched in reluctance as she slowly backed away from him. Izzy grabbed a few comfortable clothes from their closet and walked out of the room, casting one last wide-eyed glance to him before she left. Jimin waited patiently as he listened to her footsteps fading down the hall. Once he heard the lock click on the bathroom room he burst out of his frozen stance.

He threw back the covers of Izzy's bed, looking around for whatever it was that she was hiding from on him. No matter how many times she reassured them that she was fine, he knew that she was lying through her teeth. The sheets and blankets were clean, nothing there. Jimin fell onto her bed and sighed in defeat, that's when his eye caught sight of the pillow. The pillow! He pulled it into his lap, turning it over in his hands, looking for anything odd. The pillow was clean, there wasn't even a spot on the pristine white fabric. Jimin dropped his head into his hands, elbows on the pillow in his lap. What was he doing? Had it really come down to digging through Izzy's things like a rat? He sighed.

As he lifted the pillow to put it back where it belonged Jimin felt something weird in the corner, something that didn't feel very pillow-like. He listened for a second to make sure the shower was still running before slowly stretching his arm into the pillowcase. His hand kept reaching further and further and just when he thought that he was grasping at straws and he should just leave Izzy's poor pillow alone, Jimin's hand hit something that felt suspiciously like plastic. He squeezed his eyes shut and pulled the object out, tossing Izzy's pillow aside. Sucking in a shaky breath, Jimin peeled his eyes open.

"Oh god Izzy," he knew that something was off with her and he had hoped that is wasn't anything too bad, they all had. But the baggie of white pills, resting benign in his hands, told a story that was far from good.