"How could you do such a thing? I gave you my word; I told you that I would deal with my mistakes and make amends. Why are you going this far, father? Just tell me why."

The consequences of certain actions are manifold. Sometimes, they are cheap, over-the-counter, and easy to pay for. Other times, they are expensive, a luxury that empties the wallet and results in misery. It all depends on the situation; just like with every pruchase, it depends on how much needed it is, how essential and worthy; the only difference is that we may willingly pay expensive prices because we know that what we are buying will bring us that tangible -even if temporary - happiness. But when it comes to the consequences, the higher the price, the greater the agony, with no light of contentment to be seen.

The wood in the fireplace cracked, and a few fragments flew from their confinement, just as Taehyung would have wished to leave the stifling office and get out of the cage his father had built for him to live in, like a beautiful bird expected to sing and amuse the Lord, despite the agony caused by the lack of choice and freedom for that matter. The light was dim, a few lighted sconces, but the relatability was mostly on the fireplace, to glimpse the grimaces of his father sitting behind his desk unhinged, face neutral and not expressing much of the thoughts that circulated in such a calculating brain.

"You should have thought about the consequences before you acted so foolishly." The end of his sentence, and perhaps the look on his son's face, gave him cause to discard the chair and walk towards his blood-turned enemy after he gave a voice, an opinion perhaps better hidden and far from dictatorial ears, "I don't know what made you think you'd get rid of me with this stupid stunt, but don't blame me for your stupidity, Taehyung. After all, that's exactly why you should stay under my supervision. You are volatile, son. Dreamy, disconnected from this world; you need someone to watch over you and guide you on the right path when you lose it."

Taehyung stood motionless as he felt his father's hand on his shoulder. His eyes refused to look anywhere but directly into the eyes that were very similar to his own, yet very different. "And that person is me. You erred, that's true, so this is my punishment for your mistake. Do you remember when you were a child? You used to be a guttersnipe, really. Do you remember the nights you spent in the stables? Sleeping next to the horses. It's true that I can't talk sense into you now by locking you in the barn, so consider this the equivalent of that. After all, those long nights in the stables have molded you into the man you have become, so maybe this is what will reshape the daint that appeared in your form lately."

It doesn't really matter what we call it. Repercussion, settlement of tabs, punishment, these are all just synonyms that bring us to the same definition in the end. The same meaning of what the noun actually entails: a great loss to cover someone else's great loss. So yes, perhaps settlement of tabs is the best way to put it.

"We parted ways a long time ago, Father. It's over between me and Katarina. So why don't you leave her alone, for heaven's sake?" Old Kim turned his back on his pleading son and chose to look out at the snow that was beginning to pile up outside the window. "If you're so keen on revenge, then take it out on me. She has nothing to do with any of this."

"If you found a connection to destroy me in some bullshit financial and, dare I say it, extraneous documents, then I don't see why I shouldn't find a connection to do the exact same thing to this extraneous girl, son. What goes around always comes back around, Taehyungie."And he was right. Taehyung would admit; those documents were very shallow to be used as a means of attack, and now he would be attacked with something -someone-that was the opposite of shallow. Someone who was important.

Taehyung honestly didn't know who to blame. He would have loved to put the blame on you and say that if it was not for your recklessness, he wouldn't have been targeted by the sniper - nor Katarina - but he would be a hypocrite if he only blamed you and not himself as well. After all, no one put a gun to his head and forced him to twist the truth and take credit for something he hadn't done.

But he considered it payment for having saved his life. It was that damn incident that softened him, that made him think with his heart instead of using his brain, and that's how it had dictated that he take the blame and keep you out of the rage he was sure would take so long to subside. If he hadn't felt this way since he'd opened his eyes as he welcomed life after it had nearly been snatched from him, he wouldn't have gone so far as to risk Katarina for a shallow feeling that shot through his veins when he saw you looking after him despite the fatigue that colored your eyes dark purple. He cursed that moment when his heart lost its tides, but now he hated it all the more, and for valid reasons.

"Take my advice and dedicate your time to your wife instead of spending it with someone who will never be yours, Taehyung. Grow up and see life for what it is instead of looking at it from behind rose-colored glasses. You are too old for that."And again, he stood frozen, unable to decipher if he was relieved that his father was still on your side or if he was angry about it. But it was on him; nothing to blame you for even if he wanted to. His choice, purely his and with his own consent. No one forced him to hide what you did. No one forced him to say that he orchestrated everything, leaving you completely out of the matter and, thus, on his father's good side.

Pink glasses? Taehyung wanted to scoff, and he did, because he saw life through glasses that were of any color but pink. He wished he could have told him, explained to him how the color chart worked, but instead he found himself walking through the concept alone, navigating colors that were shades of gray and some shades of black. Pink! Absurd. And as he watched his father light a cigarette, which he offered him right after the first hit, he wished they were close enough to tell him that the person after whom he was supposed to look, with whom he was supposed to color life in rainbow, was all so eager to throw him away like a used napkin, never considering him anything other than a means of survival, but never as a man, let alone a husband.

"I don't wanna hear your reasons, Taehyung. This was our accord, and you broke it. Now I gave you time, I also gave you several chances, but with this? After this feat, Taehyung, I will not change my mind, and I do not care what your father might do either. You will give me what I want, or you know what I'm capable of."

"Take your leave, sweetness. Let's meet tomorrow at the same time and place." Taehyung instructed the lady he'd shared your bed with, stood up, and covered his modesty with a robe that fought the excitement the bed had known, and only when she'd gathered her things and left the room did he speak, "And what are you capable of, Doctor? Fucking my employees, for instance?"

And you hated him for that. For his prejudices and the way he saw things, for his lack of understanding and compassion. Because of everything he redeemed was good to be done by him, but not to him. You hated him so much for everything he put you through, and now you hated him for disrupting the clockwise movement of your brain and the unsettling shift it brought. You hated him and wished you could ignore the law and the moral compass and just bury him somewhere far away, so far away that you would never think of him again. Somewhere so far away that the normality of your life could reappear, from the East or the West, it doesn't matter; the main thing is that it shines in the end.

And even now, as Jungkook poured you a drink and lolled on the sofa next to the corpse you had become, you still found yourself imprisoned to that encounter, in the four walls that made up your room and in the details that constituted his being. He was good-looking, and that was a first. You had never considered such a remark before. He wasn't the type of man to impress you with his beauty at first sight, but his appeal was rather buildable, something that accumulates and becomes tangible with every glance, just like drugs; the more you indulge in them, the more pleasurable and intense the effect becomes.

"And what is it to you, Kim, huh?" You had challenged, fists closed and ready for a possible attack, "I have already told you I am not counting how many heads you get, and I have no intention of doing so, but a deal is a deal. This house is off limits and has been from the beginning."

"And I have never counted how many times you have bent, nor do I have the slightest desire to do so," he had shouted, words so cruel and crude that they echoed in the thick bricks like an earthquake, "but I thought you were sensible enough to understand that my entourage," he closed the distance, leaving a faint trail of feminine perfume that mingled with his woody scent to envelop you with an assault that made you flinch, "my employees are off limits."

"And does that really matter now?" You had retorted, taking a few steps forward to show exactly the meaning behind every word you were about to bury in his head, "We have reached the end, and what you've done tonight announces the finish line. Do yourself a favor and sign the divorce papers, Taehyung. Do us both a favor because, after all, this marriage was never our decision."

He had flashed you a grin that you knew so well, but now that you thought about it, you had never found it so appealing. He had taken a few steps towards you, closing the remaining distance and making it impossible to breathe without taking in his scent, and after a deep look into your eyes, he had given you an answer that was not unfamiliar: "It's not going to happen, I'm afraid. Forget about it. It's better this way."

The glass Jungkook had handed you was almost dizzy from all the spinning you had subjected it to, or perhaps it was Jungkook who was unnerved by the repetition of a movement so suspicious and indiscreet that he decided to break the silence, hoping to bring you back from the land of dreams you had traveled to. "Earth to my dear doctor."

"What is it?"

"I asked how it felt to poke the bear without being attacked by it." Jungkook laughed, and you found the confusion he put you in anything but amusing.

The sip of the proffered drink was soothing, a calming liquid to appease a parched soul. You leaned back on the sofa, lit a cigarette, and thought about going for a ride on your beloved Kawasaki. It would certainly clear your head and enable you to reconnect with your world. It had become difficult to concentrate, let alone understand Jungkook's coded allusions.Or maybe his words were clear, and you just weren't paying attention because you were still thinking about that night and the words that came out of your husband's mouth.

"Is it a matter of feelings? Is it love?" Taehyung had inquired, "Because if it were, I would feel a kind of pity for that Jimin guy. He didn't last long, poor thing."

"What do you know about love?" It sounded like a question, but it was more of a statement. The man in front of you knew nothing about love to attack you with it, and you wished nothing than to bring his hypocrisy to stand in front of his eyes, bare of camouflage and clothes of lies, "How can a man in love fuck a whore in his conjugal room, Mr. Kim. A room he's supposed to share with his wife, who happens to be another woman. What does that make of the lover? Aren't we a little lost here? Who is the lover among all these women, huh?"

The pain he had inflicted on your arm remained as a memory in purple that you could still see when you took off your shirt. It was on purpose. With the intention of hurting you, of turning you off so you could hear his words and the voice with which every syllable came out. ''Don't do it, Yunjae. Don't push your luck. I am under no obligation to report to you. I respected you, and you took that for granted. Now that you have started this game, you'd better keep the size of your balls until the end 'cause I do not have the will to back down now."

If your relationship had been a friendship, you would have thanked Jungkook for bringing you back to the present. Without the nudge he gave you, you would have remained a prisoner of 'what if I had said this' and 'what if I had done that', which would not have brought any changes to the present. "Are you even listening?"

"I did, but I don't understand. I mean, he could have attacked a long time ago. I wonder what he intends to do."

"Attack?" Jungkook inquired, but it sounded more like an exclamation, doing true to his intention. "He did. That old man never leaves it to time."

You stubbed out the cigarette between your fingers and turned to face him, "What do you mean? He never called for me, and my family is fine as far as I know, including the clinic."

"What?" Jungkook asked with chapped lips and wide eyes, "Yoongi didn't tell you? And your husband did not either?"

"About what?"

"I'm confused," Jungkook began, running his hands over his curls before reaching for his drink and looking you in the eye after taking a big gulp, "I thought Yoongi briefed you. Taehyung took the blame. He actually had a meeting with his father this morning to come to an agreement."

The glass you were holding landed on the glass table with a clink, and you quickly turned your attention fully to Jungkook, "What do you mean? What blame?"

"He told his father that he was the one who had planned the attack. It was easy; the documents were always in his safe, so it was easier to convince the old man. Not to mention, it would spare you his wrath and whatever his twisted mind would bring upon you."

Yoongi became your friend recently, with everything you have been through. It wasn't a bond based only on physical contact; it was an understanding of souls, an understanding of mutual struggle, and unadulterated empathy. You shared secrets, plans, and the preparation of a divorce petition that he had personally drafted for you. It made no sense that he had withheld such important information from you. It was absurd.

It only took you a few seconds to leave Jungkook's office and run to Yoongi's before your steps came to a halt as you heard voices coming from your father-in-law's office, which was only a few steps away from Yoongi's. Jungkook wouldn't give you the information you needed, and Yoongi had a few explanations to provide as to why he had been hiding this fact, but before you could ask your questions, old Kim's annoyed voice gave you answers you didn't necessarily like.

"So you're saying that not only did she put horns on my son's head, but she went through his safe and took all that shit? This is war, and if my son is sentimental enough to remain calm about it, well, I am not."

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