The comment brings you out of your daze and you jolt, remembering your company and the true reason why you’re all here tonight. Six other males occupy the cabin around you, engaged in various conversations, some with tall glasses of champagne in their hands already. Slowly but steadily, your car is making its way to the city’s finest and most luxurious casino, exclusively open to A-list patrons and complete with all the accommodations of a 5-star resort.

A minute or two passes before the limo driver rolls down the partition window, alerting your group that you’ll be arriving shortly. Only after the window is fully closed does Jaemin smoothly reach into his suit pocket and pull out a handful of ID cards, one for each occupant.

“Jeno?”

“On it,” the man responds without hesitation, already reaching inside a bag you didn’t notice before to reveal a thin, silver laptop. The screen lights up his face, and in a rapid clicking of keys, his expression becomes one of triumph. “We’re in.”

With a raised eyebrow, Jaemin rattles off a list of unfamiliar names to Jeno, whose fingers fly across the keyboard to keep up. The crime boss is only satisfied when his technician nods curtly and closes the computer, signaling the first step of their operation as successful. It’s time, Jaemin thinks.

He distributes the IDs around the cabin, and you take a moment to gingerly graze your fingertips over the photo and the fake name that have been printed on the card. There’s only a sliver of worry present in your mind compared to when you first started working with Jaemin and his gang. You figure it will never go away completely, but the man himself keeps telling you otherwise.

A rush of euphoria assaults your senses when you finally step out of the vehicle. Bathed in a golden glow provided by the lights of the casino's carport, Jaemin offers his arm and takes the lead, gesturing for the others to follow closely behind. He escorts you inside like a true gentleman, the two of you flashing practiced, dazzling smiles at the staff as you pass by.

Crystal chandeliers dangle from the ceiling of a large atrium, where a casino attendant beckons your group over. “Name and identification, please.”

In a way that almost seems rehearsed, each one of you parrots the new name you had been given by Jaemin only minutes prior, handing over your ID cards and awaiting the green light for your entrance.

Seven of the eight of you have been approved when you suddenly hear, “I’m sorry, Mister…what was it?” The employee takes a longer look at Jaemin’s fake ID, furrowing his brows as he does so. The man in question appears unfazed, only letting out a sharp “Yes?”

“...Ah! My apologies, sir. You’re in the system, please go on in.” He chuckles lightly, wondering why he doubted his own eyes. Maybe he needs new glasses.

Jaemin gives a tight-lipped smile this time. That’s what I thought.

All of you make your way into the main room, weaving between poker tables until you find a quieter set of slot machines near a corner.

“So, just like we planned—”

“Yes, Jisung,” Jaemin snaps, “And lower your voice, for the love of god. All of you, fan out and keep in touch.” He moves a tuft of bubblegum pink hair to reveal a nearly microscopic earpiece. The six men hum in acknowledgement, and you bring a hand up to instinctively tap your own device.

You remain glued to Jaemin’s side just as you were when you entered, and he slinks an arm around your waist while guiding you toward the bar.

“You’re sure about this?” You inquire, looking over your shoulder at the group as they split off into pairs. Will the boys really be fine without the two of you?

“About what, my love?” He purrs, hand squeezing your side playfully.

“Stop it, Jaem. You know what I mean.” The feeling in the pit of your stomach is an unpleasant one, and it seems unwise to keep it to yourself.

Despite the worry in your voice, he brushes it off like a speck of dust on his dark velvet suit. “Don’t be ridiculous, this is the fun part. We don’t have to do any of the work.”

“Are you telling me you don’t ever get a gut feeling about something? Because this time just seems—”

“Different, yeah, you used that one last week.”

“I’m telling you—”

“Well, well, well, are we interrupting a lovers’ quarrel?”

Your expressions and demeanors transform in an instant, and Jaemin helps you onto a stool at the bar as he answers. “Not exactly,” he grins. “My date here just doesn’t want me to bet too much tonight.”

“Are you kidding?” One of the women that walked up to you exclaims, “You’re at the fanciest casino for miles around! Live a little!” She raises her drink above her head for emphasis, nearly spilling the dark red liquid on her long white gown.

“I’m just saying,” you interject, turning to Jaemin with a smile that subtly conveys your disdain for his nonchalant attitude about this whole heist situation. “We’ve come so far already, I wouldn’t want him to be careless enough to risk it all.”

“And that’s why I’m telling you not to worry, darling. I know what I’m doing.” He smirks in your direction and then in the direction of the two ladies. Before you can continue to argue, he steps closer and, in an act of pure indulgence, brings his face dangerously close to yours. Your boss has never been the type to commit to a scheme to this degree, but here you both are, faking an intimate relationship and acting like you belong to this exclusive social tier, all while your colleagues sneak around in attempts to make a fortune.

“What do you say we, you know,” the man hums, in a voice so low you’re the only one who hears. “Kiss and… make up… and all that other bullshit, hmm?”

With one hand tilting your chin up, he deliberately flicks his gaze down to your lips and pauses to let you make the next move. Your brief hesitation makes Jaemin doubt himself, one of the rarest things for him to do, but his confidence is renewed when you finally close the distance and sigh against him. The affectionate display makes your company exchange glances of awe, and they briskly stroll away when it becomes clear that this isn’t just a mere peck.

It’s impossible to ignore how much Jaemin has taken a liking to you in the span of a few months. Behind closed doors, the other guys joke about how their jobs and lives would be so much easier if the man would hurry up and get laid already. Obviously, the feeling is mutual, and you love to think of your situation as something out of a twisted, criminal fairytale.

His hands and lips are reminiscent of warm honey on your skin, touch fiery as if this is a passion that’s long been kept under wraps, like a crime scene covered in caution tape. But the moment is cut short when your earpiece begins to crackle with a message, and the static of Renjun’s voice breaks both of you apart. You had almost forgotten you’re in a public place. That’s how gifted Jaemin is with his charms, making you feel like you’re the only other soul in the world. Making you feel special.

“No snags so far, boss. Donghyuck and Mark are on their way to the vault now.”

Jaemin huffs, “Great, but was that really worth interrupting me, Huang?” From his tone of voice, even the man on the other end can tell he just rolled his eyes.

Renjun swallows, stuttering. “I—I thought you’d like to know.”

“All I need to know is when you’re done and we can get the hell out of here.”

Just like that, Jaemin returns to his usually cold and calculating persona, no longer setting your face ablaze with warmth or making the butterflies in your stomach flutter. After pressing a button on his earpiece, he returns his focus to you. “Now, where were we?”

You feel your heart skip a beat. Before you can manage to get a word in, however, he’s already beckoning to the bartender over the counter. “What would you like to drink, doll?”

Luckily for Jaemin, all of your previous uncertainty melts away with the alcohol you consume in the form of margaritas, martinis, and everything in between. His insistence on paying the bill isn’t met with any disagreement on your part, and he repeatedly slides his credit card back and forth across the bar.

He’d never admit it, but your worrying affects him more than he lets on. Even though your recruitment was the most recent, he’s grown the closest to you for reasons he cannot seem to decipher. He can trust you to keep a level head and think rationally more than anyone else in your group, so when you say you have a bad feeling, it makes his own insides churn with apprehension.

You’ve had some close calls in the past, sure, but nothing has ever gone totally and completely awry. Jaemin wasn’t lying when he told you he knows what he’s doing. He just has to trust that the boys do their jobs and do them well. After everything he’s worked for, he doesn’t know what he’d do if they screw this up.

A few shots in, the man looks around and sees a handful of security guards that he didn’t notice before. One of them whispers something into another’s ear, and the rest stand stoically, scanning the crowd of people. Most patrons are engrossed in games of chips and cards while a loud jazz tune blares overhead. Slot machines chime all around the large room, glasses clink, and shouts of victory or of defeat erupt from gamblers in every corner of the casino.

Sipping bubbly liquid from a champagne flute, you whine when Jaemin takes you by the wrist and pulls you off the barstool. He scans his credit card one more time before leading you back over to the slot machine you congregated at one hour earlier.

“Listen, I get the feeling this place is onto us.”

You slur your words a bit, “Wha—What makes you… say that?”

“I just know. You need to be ready to make a getaway, alright?” He glances around. “Let’s go find a bathroom.”

Wrapping an arm around your waist once more, Jaemin leads the two of you in the opposite direction of the increased security measures. A long carpeted hallway appears to connect the casino to its adjoining resort hotel, lined with restaurants and window displays. You spot a restroom sign a little ways down and point at it loosely, “There,” you mumble.

It’s by far the nicest bathroom either of you have ever set foot in. Antique-looking sconces illuminate the space, providing a cozy ambience, and the speckled marble counter is so shiny you can see your reflection. Jaemin takes a seat in the miniature lounge area while you plant your arms on both sides of the single sink, leaning over it in case your body decides to reject its current contents.

Considering how crowded the casino is, Jaemin had been surprised to find the bathroom empty. He absentmindedly fumbles with his fingers while you glance down at yourself, distracted by your own done-up appearance for the occasion. As far as he’s concerned, the both of you can hide out in here until the job is done.

On the other side of the casino and several floors below, the rest of the group has infiltrated its security and is on the way to making a fortune. Their two tech geniuses hacked into camera footage to manually override the system, replacing the current feeds by replaying old segments. While the men sneak through corridors of marble, the guards see those same corridors as nothing but empty. Jeno and Chenle, their portion of the work already done, sit waiting inside an unoccupied office while Jisung and Renjun guard the entrance to one of the facility’s many vaults. Donghyuck and Mark don’t find any lasers or booby traps within, like numerous Hollywood films had led them to believe. Instead, a simple padlock protects the large wheel on the wall, awaiting a 9-digit code.

Mark reaches up to press a button on his earpiece, “We’re ready for it, Chenle.”

A beat. Then, “Okay, here it comes. Seven, one, five, two…”

Leather briefcases now brimming with cash, the men slowly close the vault behind them, joining their colleagues upon exiting and going to find the two that remain.

Of course, Jeno and Chenle had expected their accomplices to come bursting through the door at some point, but the sight of a police officer doing it instead nearly makes both of their hearts stop beating. A hand on his walkie-talkie is all it takes for them to react, still recovering from the shock. The younger’s next message gets broadcasted to everyone’s earpieces:

“Run.”

You’re slumped in a lounge chair next to Jaemin as you anxiously wait for the all clear, but that word is a far cry from it. Your brain is lost, overwhelmed by your fight or flight instincts taking over immediately. The aforementioned man is on the same page, and once he makes sure the coast is clear, the two of you leave the safety of the restroom and bolt down the hallway.

After dodging dozens of security guards and weaving your way through crowds, you and Jaemin come barreling out of a staff exit and find yourselves standing in a large parking lot. With a flourishing reach into his pocket, he procures a set of keys and presses a button, causing the lights of a nearby sedan to flicker in reply. It’s quite a few steps down from the vehicle you arrived here in, but that fact is of no importance. You’ve got much bigger problems to deal with.

Jaemin is already buckled into the driver’s seat of the getaway car by the time the alarms begin to sound. You climb in the passenger side, and the rest of the boys are close behind, scrambling out of the same exit before piling into a second vehicle. Your group has once again split into two, this time accidentally, but the chaos and commotion prevents you and Jaemin from doing anything about it. With a foot firmly on the accelerator, you emerge from the lot, heading for the busy streets of the city.

Soon enough, you look over to see harsh flashes of blue and red lighting up Jaemin’s face, a manic grin plastered on his lips through every hairpin turn. It almost frightens you. Knuckles white and scarred, the man clutches the steering wheel so hard it could snap from the dashboard with just one tug. Nothing else on earth can compare to the pure adrenaline coursing through his veins in this moment. This is what he lives for.

A slightly garbled voice speaks into Jaemin’s ear. “Police blockade on fifth. They’ll cut us both off.”

His smile falters when he hears this, and maybe that’s for the best. “We’ll go around, then. But we have to split up, the back roads are too narrow for both of us.” Jaemin’s tone is eerily calm for being in the midst of a car chase, but before you can contemplate this any longer, an excruciating headache pierces your scalp, and you instantly regret all those drinks you had. “You make a left at the next intersection, and we’ll make a right,” Donghyuck suggests.

Normally, Jaemin would object. He calls the shots. But this time he lets it slide. Besides, there’s not much time to argue. “Got it.”

Donghyuck signs off, and Jaemin commences the former’s plan. In a skid of tires, the vehicle swings to the side, just barely avoiding oncoming traffic, heaviest at this time of night. The sirens pursuing you begin to blare even louder, more violently now. You feel the cool leather of the passenger door press into your skin, the growing momentum forcing your body up against it as the car bumps the curb.

Jaemin floors the gas pedal even harder, wildly glancing between each mirror of the car. Signs and street lamps rush past on the darkened street, and strangely, it quiets. The rearview reveals that any vehicles pursuing you must have stopped. It doesn’t matter why. For a few seconds you think you’ve made it. The road ahead is a path leading to freedom, and you’ll live to swindle another day, just as you always do. But your pride is short-lived. A cop car appears, pulling out into the road and obscuring any chance of escape. This is it. You’re trapped.

“Shit,” Jaemin curses. “They’ve blocked off this road too. Donghyuck’s out of his mind.”

“Why’d you listen to him?” You scold, trying not to panic as he slams on the brakes.

He either doesn’t hear you or chooses not to answer your question, and simply exits the vehicle. You can think of no other option but to do the same. Is he really giving up? Surrendering so easily? Your boss has to have some sort of trick up his sleeve, but he’s cutting it close by waiting this late. Now that the police are involved, your very lives could be in danger.

Standing back to back with Jaemin, you watch as more police cars arrive and form a circle, fully surrounding the two of you. Out of the corner of your eye, you can gather that he’s not complying with their orders to put his hands up. Instead, he’s removing a handgun from the inside of his suit jacket, prompting expletives and exclamations to fly through the air.

“This is your plan? Do you want to get us killed?” You hiss, venom in your words. Now Jaemin’s out of his mind. “Is that even loaded?”

“Hmm, I forget,” he replies nonchalantly, twirling it around with a slender hand. You can still hear his low voice as clear as day, even with the yelling of the officers all around you. “Guess we’ll see.”

Yes, the man is officially fucking insane.

In a split second, your back meets Jaemin’s torso as he pulls you to him, aiming the gun over your shoulder. Looking back and up into his face, you’re fully convinced this could be the last thing you see, your last moment on earth.