Lines We Cross ||Front Man x Reader||

I slipped out of the room, glancing over my shoulder every few steps to make sure no one was following me. My heart raced as I walked through the grand hallways, my heels clicking against the sleek floor. I didn't exactly know where I was going, but I had an idea. A risky, reckless idea. In-ho's room.

I remembered seeing a telephone in there. Maybe, I could use it to call someone. To call him. Jun-ho.

The place was a maze of identical corridors and ominous silence, but I did my best to retrace the steps from earlier. Every turn felt like I was walking straight into a trap, but I kept moving, hoping like hell I wasn't being watched. Finally, I reached the door to his room.

Before I could push it open, a guard stepped in front of me, blocking the entrance like a damn wall.

"No entry," he said, his voice cold and clipped. "No permission allowed unless we've been informed."

I scowled, crossing my arms and forcing myself to act as pissed off as I could. "Excuse me? What do you think you're doing? I'm the Front Man's special guest tonight, and you're treating me like an outsider?" I huffed, tapping my foot like some entitled brat. "Do you know what he'll do once he finds out how you treated me?"

The guard hesitated. He didn't say anything, but I could see the gears turning in his head. I glared at him, daring him to defy me.

"I'll make sure he knows about this," I continued, raising my voice for good measure. "I'll tell him exactly how you tried to keep me out—"

"Fine." The guard finally relented, stepping aside and opening the door.

I tilted my chin up and gave him a sharp look. "That's more like it."

As soon as the door shut behind me, I let out a shaky breath. My heart was pounding, and I was sure the guard could hear it from outside. But I didn't have time to think about that. I walked through the corridor, until I spotted the little table with the telephone sitting on it.

I practically lunged for it, my hands trembling as I picked up the receiver. I managed to circle the numbers, one by one.

Come on, come on, come on.

Each second felt like an eternity. My pulse was in my throat, and my stomach dropped with panic. Any moment now, someone could walk in and catch me.

Finally, a voice came through the line. "Hello?"

"Jun-ho?" I asked, my voice shaking with relief.

"Y/N!?" he said, his tone just as relieved as mine. "Holy shit, Y/N, I thought you were dead. I've been worried sick! What the fuck is going on? Where are you?"

I swallowed hard, glancing at the door to make sure it was still shut. "I'm alive—for now. I'm in the fucking games. Or I was. They pulled me out." My words tumbled out in a frantic rush. "The man in the black mask, he's the one who did it.The one you told me about. Remember?"

There was a long pause on the other end. Too long.

"Jun-ho?" I whispered, my voice low.

"...In-ho," he muttered so quietly I almost didn't catch it.

But I did.

"What?" My chest tightened as I gripped the phone. "How do you know that name?"

There was no reply. The silence on the other end was deafening.

"Jun-ho," I said again, this time more forcefully. "How the fuck do you know that name?"

Before he could answer, everything happened at once.

A hand grabbed the telephone out of my grip, the force almost ripping it from my fingers. I gasped, stumbling back as the entire thing was yanked out of the wall and smashed onto the floor.

My head snapped up, and there he was. In-ho.

I hadn't even heard him come in. He stood there, his shoulders tense, his mask back on. The shattered remains of the phone lay at his feet, but his attention was fixed solely on me.

"Fuck," I whispered, frozen in place.

Meanwhile, earlier on before Y/N slipped out of the event, In-ho returned to the bar, scanning the place for her. His eyes darted around, but she was nowhere to be found. A sinking feeling settled in his chest, though he quickly masked it with anger.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, already moving.

He flagged down a couple of guards standing near the entrance, their postures stiffening the moment he approached. "Where is she?" he demanded, his voice was low.

One of them hesitated before answering, pointing toward the corridor. "We saw her walk out, sir. That way."

In-ho didn't wait for anything more. He stormed off, his steps quick and purposeful. His mind was a storm of frustration and unease, the kind he couldn't quite shake no matter how hard he tried.

Why the fuck does she have to be so fucking difficult? he thought bitterly, his fists clenching as he walked. A simple fucking thing. Just one thing. Stay put, don't cause trouble, and stay alive. How hard is that?

But he knew the answer. With her, it was always hard. She never made anything easy, and it drove him insane. He gritted his teeth, trying to push the thought away, but it lingered, gnawing at the edges of his anger.

He could kill her if he wanted to. That thought came unbidden. He had the power, the authority. One word, one order, and she'd be gone.

But that was a lie.

He couldn't. Not her. Not anymore. At this point, the idea of laying a finger on her, let alone killing her, was unimaginable. She was too... important.

He reached his room, and took his mask off. He saw the guard standing outside. "Leave," he barked, his tone leaving no room for argument.

The guard nodded quickly and stepped away he probably knew he fucked up, letting her into the room like that. In-ho shoved the door open. His eyes immediately locked onto her.

She was standing at the end of the corridor, the phone in her hand, her body tense. She was talking to someone, panicked, hurried words spilling from her lips. She didn't notice him at first, she was too focused on the conversation.

He moved without thinking, his anger boiling over.

In a few quick strides, he was on her. He grabbed the telephone out of her hand, ripping it away before she could even react, and then smashed it to the ground with all his strength. The crash echoed through the room as the pieces scattered across the floor.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" he snarled.

Before she could answer, he grabbed her arm, yanking her forward and pinning her against the wall. His grip was firm and his his breath came in quick and heavy as he leaned in, his face inches from hers.