Misfits

The night wrapped the city in its thick darkness, where every sound took on a frightening significance. A red-haired girl, her eyes wide with fear, quickened her pace, trying to suppress the terror clawing its way to the surface. Her breathing grew shallow and fast, but she forced herself not to look back, knowing that any sign of weakness might cost her dearly. As she turned the corner, a dead-end wall suddenly loomed before her—like fate itself had laid a trap. Panic surged through her like a wave, but clenching her teeth, she stepped back, pressing herself against the cold wall as if it were her last refuge. Footsteps behind her grew louder, drawn out deliberately, as if someone was savoring her helplessness. Out of the darkness—like rising from the void—two shadows emerged, their faces hidden by the night. Only the glowing ends of their cigarettes gave away their presence, like the eyes of predators. “Where were you running off to? Don’t you want to have some fun? Want us to show you our city?” The voice was low and raspy, like rusty metal scraping against itself. His words were laced with something vile, filthy, as though they were meant to break her spirit. She was already crying silently, praying bitterly for rescue, when a rough hand gripped her wrist, robbing her of any chance to pull away. Her voice, trembling with fear, barely escaped her lips: “Please… don’t.” But her words were ignored. In the eyes of her tormentors, she had just become a more desirable prey. Realizing she had no chance of running, despair burst from her chest in a scream that echoed through the empty alleyways. Suddenly, the sound of a motorcycle engine pierced the night—and in that moment, something that resembled hope flickered inside her. A motorcyclist emerged from the darkness, removing his helmet to see what was happening. His gaze was heavy and resolute; retreat was not an option. “Hey! What the hell are you doing?” His voice cut through the silence like a blade. One of the men answered with a disgusting grin: “Just having some fun. Isn’t it obvious?” “I don’t think she’s into that,” the biker replied calmly, though there was something in his tone that made them uneasy. “So you’re not letting her go, huh?” he asked, receiving only a silent shake of the head. “Alright then.” The motorcyclist clenched his fists, ready for a fight. The girl shut her eyes tight, praying inwardly for his victory. And then—everything froze. Even the sounds of blows stopped as sirens wailed nearby. Cursing under their breath, the thugs fled into the night, leaving her alone with the stranger. “Hey… are you okay?” His voice had softened. Gaining courage, she opened her eyes to thank her savior. But the darkness still cloaked his face, revealing only his outline. “Thank you! Thank you so much!” The words tumbled from her lips, the only thing she could say to express her immense gratitude. As they approached the motorcycle together, the streetlight lit up their faces, and for the first time, she saw him clearly. The shock that hit her was indescribable. “You?!” Her voice trembled with disbelief, but within it was a hint of joy. How could it be that he—this strange motorcyclist—turned out to be her savior? Both of them were stunned by the unexpected reunion. And just like that, their thoughts flew back to earlier that day—back to when it all began.

10 hours ago…

As soon as Lalisa set foot on foreign soil, she felt small and lost amidst the endless expanse of the unfamiliar city. The airport, with its noisy crowds and endless corridors, felt like a maze she had just escaped from, trembling with nervous anticipation. Her fingers nervously clutched a small, crumpled piece of paper with her sister’s workplace address written on it. That scrap of paper was her only thread connecting her to someone familiar in this strange land. She kept scanning the words over and over, as if trying to find hidden courage between the lines. As she reached the bus stop, Lalisa sighed heavily and sat on the edge of a bench. Chaos buzzed around her — people hurrying to work, tourists excitedly chatting about their plans — but she felt completely cut off from this bustling world. For the first time in her life, she was so far from home, alone, surrounded by unfamiliar faces and a foreign language. Fear grew inside her — what if she got lost? What if she couldn’t find her sister? The thought pierced her like an icy wind, making her shiver. But shaking her head, Lalisa forced herself to cast those dark thoughts aside. She knew she couldn’t afford to panic. Clenching her teeth, she turned to a young woman sitting nearby. The girl had a warm, friendly smile, and when she looked at the paper, her eyes widened in surprise for a moment. She pointed toward a beach visible in the distance and said something gently in her language. Though Lalisa couldn’t understand the words, the kind expression on the girl’s face made her feel grateful and calm. Smiling and thanking her, Lalisa set off in the direction shown, gripping the piece of paper tightly in her hand. The road to the beach looked like a scene from a movie — sunlit sand, the rhythmic sound of waves, and people’s smiling faces enjoying their day. But Lalisa, lost in thought, barely noticed the beauty around her. She walked, occasionally glancing at the sea, but her mind was preoccupied with finding the right café. Suddenly, her steps halted when she bumped into someone’s strong back. Her reddish hair flew up, and she gasped, rubbing her forehead that took the brunt of the collision. In front of her stood a tall, strong man with a wide smile that stunned her for a moment. His skin was tanned, and his eyes sparkled with a warm, mischievous light. “Hey there, little one!” he greeted loudly and cheerfully. His voice seemed to chase away all her fear and uncertainty. Lalisa froze, taken aback by his ease, then stammered an apology shyly. She was about to walk away, but the American man gently but confidently took her hand, stopping her just slightly. “Where are you off to?” he asked with a hint of sadness in his voice, his eyes seeming to beg her to stay just a moment longer. Lalisa smiled, a little flustered by his attention, and explained that she urgently needed to get to a café. Waving goodbye with a giggle, she hurried on. The American remained where he was, watching her go with a touch of sadness in his eyes, as if her leaving had taken a part of his mood with her. But his melancholy quickly faded when he heard the familiar roar of an engine. A black motorcycle screeched to a stop beside him, and its rider, moving with the grace of a seasoned racer, removed his helmet. Underneath was a young Korean man with an apologetic smile that softened his otherwise serious face. “Damn it, Kook, what took you so long? I almost forgot you existed,” the American guy complained with mock offense as his friend jumped off the bike, immediately looking guilty. “Sorry, man. But why did you call me out this early in the morning? I haven’t even had breakfast,” Kook frowned, taking off his helmet and waiting for an explanation. The American guy blinked several times with childlike innocence, pretending not to understand. “If you don’t explain right now…” “Kook, you know we’ve got a race coming up soon,” the American cut in, a hint of excitement in his voice. “Of course I know. I’ve been prepping for it for two whole months,” Kook replied proudly, his expression softening with self-assurance. “So… don’t you want one last training session? With girls,” the American smirked, earning a tired sigh from Kook. “You’re at it again, Alex. Wasn’t Veronica rejecting you enough?” “It still hurts,” Alex pouted, pulling a childish face. “Speaking of girls. I just met the cutest one! She looked like a foreigner — and she already stole my heart!” he exclaimed, theatrically clutching his chest, making Kook chuckle. They agreed to meet at the beach in half an hour, since Alex still had work to finish — he was a lifeguard, watching over beachgoers, while Jungkook was an ordinary student. As the friends parted ways, Kook headed toward the very café where Lalisa had finally found her sister — but the scene she walked in on made her freeze in anger and alarm. A strange man was shamelessly groping her sister, who sat curled up, enduring his advances…

***

The warm noonday light filtered softly through the large windows, bathing Kim Seokjin’s office in a pleasant golden glow. The gentle rustle of paper and the muffled sounds of work beyond the office walls created an almost imperceptible atmosphere of focus and tranquility. Lost in thought, Seokjin didn’t immediately notice the smooth opening of his door, allowing the slender figure of his secretary to step inside. Her even-toned voice, as always, carried respect — and a faint note of concern. “Excuse me, Madam Jeon is here to see you,” she said, bowing deeply, breaking the silence with her announcement. Seokjin lifted his gaze from the documents, his face reflecting a flicker of surprise mixed with cautious curiosity. Rising quickly, he straightened the faint creases in his perfectly tailored suit and headed to the door to greet his mother with the appropriate reverence. When Madam Jeon entered, the room seemed to fill with her presence — warm and comforting, like the embrace of childhood. Her eyes, full of wisdom and care, met her son’s, and she smiled gently, as if trying to ease his hidden anxiety without words. They exchanged a brief but tender hug before Jin, with a restrained smile, asked: “Mom, what brings you here? Did Dad forget your lunch again?” — he said it with a light smile, but a hint of wariness lingered in his eyes. Madam Jeon shook her head slowly, her expression unchanged. “No, dear, he remembers. I’m here for another reason.” Her voice was soft, but there was a note of seriousness in it that made Seokjin’s heart tighten in anticipation of something important. Her face subtly changed — the light, open expression gave way to something more solemn, more resolute. A tense silence settled in the office, and Jin felt his inner world echo the rising anxiety within him. “What’s wrong, Mom?” he asked, his voice calm but betraying a quiet worry. “Please tell me everything — don’t leave anything out.” Madam Jeon took a slow breath, as if gathering her strength before an important conversation. Then, looking steadily into her son’s eyes, she began to speak: “Jin, your father and I have decided it’s time to bring Jungkook home. It’s been three years since he left for America. We believe he has learned from his mistakes and is ready to return to take his place in the family. He needs to start preparing to lead the company.” She paused for a moment, as if gauging her son’s reaction. Seokjin’s face remained unreadable, but deep in his eyes flashed something akin to surprise — and doubt. “Rumors about him have already begun to spread, and you know how your father detests such things. We’ve decided to entrust this task to you. Make sure he comes home safe and sound.” Having said her piece, Madam Jeon looked at Jin closely, waiting for his reaction. Seokjin, as if weighing every word, slowly nodded, his gaze darkening slightly with the whirlwind of thoughts racing through his mind. “Are you sure he’s ready to come back?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady. “You know how stubborn he can be when things don’t go his way. What if he refuses to come with me?” “Yes, Jin, we are sure,” his mother replied firmly, her voice leaving no room for doubt. “If he throws another tantrum… you’ll have to take special measures.” Her final words hung in the air like a quiet whisper, framed by the golden light of the midday sun streaming through the office windows.

***

Lisa felt a storm of emotions boiling inside her. Her heart pounded like a drum, and her thoughts swirled, blocking out reason. In an instant, she lunged forward, rushing to her sister and, without hesitation, shoved the stranger who had shamelessly been groping Sara. All the anger that had built up over months of worry and doubt exploded in that single burst of action. “Lisa?” Sara exclaimed in shock, her eyes wide with disbelief. She seemed unable to believe that her younger sister — the one who had always been closest to her — was actually standing in front of her. But Lisa said nothing. Her expression was fierce, like a warrior defending her honor. She grabbed her sister’s hand and started pulling her toward the exit. But Sara, still reeling from the shock, yanked her hand free. “Where are you dragging me? What are you even doing here? Is Mom with you?” Sara looked around frantically, as if their mother might suddenly appear from behind a door to rain down her scolding. “I came here to take you home!” — Lisa yelled through the tight knot in her throat, fists clenched, her tears already starting to glisten. “So this is how you’re studying? I knew something was wrong. How could you lie to us all this time?” Her words struck like lightning, cutting through the silence of the café. The fury she had been holding in now surged outward, burning bright. But as her anger poured out, sorrow slowly overtook it, and her voice began to weaken, a tremble slipping into her tone. Sara, still holding a trembling coffee pot, tried to hold back her own tears, her heart breaking bit by bit. “I’m not going back,” she said firmly, even though her voice was shaking. “I’m fine. I haven’t finished school yet, so I can’t leave with you.” “You’ve got to be kidding me!” — Lisa couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You probably don’t even have money! I saw everything! Why are you putting up with this? Where’s the sister I always looked up to?” Her anger gave way to despair, and tears began streaming down her cheeks. Sara stood frozen, her hands shaking, the pot nearly slipping from her grasp. “I’m sorry, Lisa,” she whispered, unable to summon the strength she used to have. “You should go home. Don’t leave Mom alone, okay? I promise I’ll come back someday. But not yet…” Her words hung in the air, heavy as stones, and for a moment, everything fell still — as if time itself had paused. Lisa, crying, stared at Sara, unable to accept her refusal. But their silence was broken by the soft ring of a bell as the café door opened. A new customer — a young man with black hair, absorbed in his phone — stepped inside. Jeon Jungkook, still fixated on his screen, walked toward the nearest table. As he passed by Sara, she turned sharply, accidentally spilling the last of the coffee from the pot on him. “Oh!” Jungkook almost jumped in surprise, staring in disbelief at his soaked clothes. Sara’s eyes widened in horror, and she immediately began apologizing, fumbling to hand him tissues. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you!” she stammered, bowing repeatedly, her voice shaking with panic. But Jungkook, snatching the tissues, began wiping himself off roughly, his face turning red with anger. “How could you not see me? Are you blind?!” — his voice rang out through the café, turning into a shout. “I… I…” — Sara struggled to speak, but the words caught in her throat. “What? People like you always choke up so no one complains to the manager!” His fury escalated, drawing the attention of every customer in the café. But then Lisa, her tears momentarily forgotten, regained her resolve. “Hey! She said she was sorry! What else do you want? You have no right to yell at her like that! You’re just a customer, so stop causing a scene,” — her voice was firm, filled with determination, as if she were ready to protect her sister no matter what. Jungkook, stunned by her boldness, turned his gaze toward her. “And who the hell are you? For your information, I’m more important here than she is!” — he snapped, now focusing his irritation on Lisa. His face twisted with even more anger. “Well, maybe don’t walk around glued to your phone! I saw you — you weren’t even looking where you were going,” — Lisa rolled her eyes, her voice laced with sarcasm, which only enraged Jungkook further. “You little—” “I’m really sorry again!” — Sara cut in, quickly grabbing Lisa’s arm and dragging her toward the exit. Jungkook cursed under his breath one last time before heading to the restroom to clean himself up. The sisters stopped at the door, and Lisa, still fuming, turned back to insist again: “Sara, enough. You’re coming home, and that’s final!” “Lisa, stop! I already told you I’m not coming back.” “What am I supposed to tell Mom? Do you want me to lie to her?” The younger sister couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Just cover for me. I told you — I’ll come back when the time is right. You go home, and don’t make Mom worry,” — these were Sara’s last words before another worker called out to her. She left quickly without looking back, leaving Lisa alone with her fury and sorrow. Clenching her fists, Lisa watched her sister go before returning to the table where she had left her things. Grabbing her bag and phone, she walked out of the café with determined steps, unsure where to go next — but certain she wasn’t giving up. Meanwhile, Jungkook returned to his seat, now cleaned up, and sighed heavily, feeling drained by the whole ordeal. As he dug through his pockets, he suddenly realized he couldn’t find his phone. Looking around, his eyes landed on the corner of the couch where a phone was lying. But something felt wrong. He picked it up and lit up the screen — the wallpaper was a picture of G-Dragon instead of his usual motorcycle. The passcode didn’t work. “Shit,” — he muttered, realizing he had grabbed the wrong phone. He now remembered setting his phone down on the table — and spotted the couch where a woman’s handbag had been earlier. Putting the pieces together, Jungkook realized the phone belonged to the same girl he had just fought with. Without wasting another second, he rushed out of the café to find her and make things right.

***

Lisa nervously stepped back, narrowing her eyes at the stranger. There was a mix of fear and determination in her voice. “Are you following me? I’ll call the police right now.” Jungkook only smirked, his lips curling into a mocking smile, as if he was trying not to laugh. “What? You think you’re worth following?” he scoffed, looking away. The arrogance in his tone made Lisa’s blood boil. She lifted her chin in defiance, ready to fire back. “Rude jerk! Clearly your parents never taught you any manners,” she snapped, trying to maintain control of the situation. He shrugged, a dark glint flickering in his eyes, almost amused. “That’s right. So what?” His voice oozed sarcasm, completely unfazed by her insult. Lisa could feel her anger rising again, but she forced herself to stay composed. Instead, she offered him a cold, fake smile. “Figures. Anyway, thanks for saving me from those creeps. And now, goodbye.” Her words cut like ice, her forced smile like a mask. She gave a quick wave, about to walk away — when she suddenly felt his hand wrap around her wrist, stopping her in her tracks. Lisa gasped, her eyes widening in surprise. “Show me your phone,” Jungkook said, his voice low and calm, devoid of any emotion. “What? Are you insane?” Lisa tried to yank her hand free, scandalized, but the boy didn’t budge. “Just give it to me,” he repeated, quiet but firm, snatching the phone from her hands. Lisa’s temper flared up again, and she reached for it, but the motorcycle between them made it hard to get close. “Hey! Do you have a death wish or something?! Give me back my phone!” Her voice trembled with indignation. Jungkook glanced at the screen — instead of her G-Dragon wallpaper, there was a photo of his motorcycle, his “Black Knight” as he liked to call it. His expression stayed unreadable, but a flicker of surprise passed through his eyes. “You sure this is your phone?” he asked, holding it up. Lisa froze, momentarily thrown off. “Wait… what?” Her voice wavered with confusion. “Just take your phone and go home,” he sighed, pulling her actual phone from his pocket and placing it in her hand. Silence fell between them. They stood there for a moment, looking at each other like they were trying to read unspoken questions in each other’s eyes. Then, without another word, Jungkook put on his helmet and swung his leg over the bike, ready to leave. “Hey, wait!” Lisa called after him, her voice unexpectedly soft. Jungkook turned his head, waiting. “Do you know any cheap places to stay around here? Like, for just one night?” She blinked innocently, trying her best to look harmless. “You’re not serious, right?” His voice was muffled by the helmet, but Lisa could still hear the disbelief in it. She nodded, hoping for a little kindness. Jungkook stared at her for a few seconds, as if deciding something, then started the engine without a word. Lisa assumed he was about to ride off and leave her behind — when he suddenly spoke, short and clipped: “Get on.”