The Escort

Protection

Eight Months Later

It had been a slow path. Jimin had taken his time, considering if he wanted to return to escorting. Without Y/N as a client, he found the whole idea distasteful, so he broke with his agency. He thought about what he wanted to do now. He visited a dance studio and enjoyed getting back into dance, the rush and thrill of pushing his body to the extreme. But he didn't want to fully get into that world. It was grueling.

"You should design." It had been Taehyung's idea. It had been an off-hand comment. He and Jimin had totally different styles but they both had a flair and an eye for fashion. It had been one of Jimin's favorite parts of escorting, the outfits. The accessories. The make-up. "Maybe even model."

"Model?"

"Yeah. Remember how insecure you were in college about your body? You're not anymore. Modeling would be a good outlet for you, I think. It would still give you that affirmation you got from escorting." Jimin had pooched his lips and considered. Namjoon had contacts and Hoseok's sister was expanding their company in a fashion direction.

Now Jimin was up-and-coming. He was prepping his first designs. He'd pulled in a decent-paying modeling contract. Now his name was being heard in Seoul, but for an entirely different reason. The first time he saw his face on a Billboard, his smile beamed.

Jimin threw himself into researching and working, reading about photography and textiles. And when he wasn't doing that he laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, silently working on his issues.

It wasn't easy. He figured there would always be this dull sense of loss in his heart. But it didn't sting like it used to. He could live, he could look forward to life. He stopped questioning his worth, when temptation popped up he redirected his thoughts. So what if he'd sold his body at one point, he was still human, he was still worthy of respect. That's what a beautiful, anxious CEO had taught him once upon a time.

Dancing grounded him. He never asked how she was doing. He never googled her name. He lived like she didn't exist, because he had to learn to live for himself. To be okay by himself. To look in the mirror and tell himself he was deserving. That he was a catch. That it was okay if he never found someone. He woke up excited for a new day. He took a trip to Paris with Taeyung and Jungkook and planned more adventures with his friends. Jimin was free. And he was okay.

It wasn't all sunshine and rainbows. There had been a small blip on the radar. Jimin had hosted their guys' night in his small apartment and Jin had decided to sleepover. And sleep in.  Or attempt to. Early in the morning Jimin was working away at his dining table, tongue stuck out to the side, intently focused on one of his designs. There had been a knock, which startled him.

Who wanted to see him at this hour? His bills were all paid. He hadn't bothered checking who it was, which in hindsight was very stupid of him. He tended to get lost in thought more easily these days and forgot basic common sense. He was turning into Namjoon.

He'd been shoved back, falling on the ground, taken by surprise. He recognized one of the men standing over him but he didn't recognize the others. He had felt an initial overwhelming sense of fear before he shoved it down. He didn't know how Lee had found out about the break in contact between him and Y/N. But the man obviously saw a chance to finally put Jimin in his place. Finally control him.

Jimin had felt angry. Angry at how Lee looked down on others, how he thought Jimin didn't deserve respect simply because his job had involved sex. Angry at how hypocritical it was. Angry at how entitled Lee was. Dumbfounded that Lee just couldn't let it go.

The odds were against him but Jimin wasn't helpless. He was up, punching and kicking, holding his own despite there being three of them. Or at least, he held his own until one man got between his defenses, grabbed him by the throat and threw him onto his coffee table.

Jimin gasped for air, trying to will himself to get up, knowing he was defenseless with the wind knocked out of him. This was it. This was how he was gonna die. And he found he actually didn't give a damn. He was more just mad that Lee got his way in the end. But then...

"What in god's fucking name is going on here?! Do you know how much sleep maintaining this beautiful specimen of a body requires?! Do you have no decency?! Did your mothers not teach you manners?!" The men hadn't realized someone else was in the apartment and paused in confusion. Jin was up, hair askew, holding a pillow against his chest, and looking very pissed. They had paused, looked at each other, and then one had taken a step towards Jin only to stop when he snorted. "Don't bother. I already called the police. And if I were Lee I would expect to be hearing about this." The men had paled at this, deciding not to risk it, and racing against each other for the door. Jin had stomped after them and slammed the door closed with a huff.

"Jimin, are you okay?" He had dropped his pillow and rushed over, checking Jimin over for damage.

"Yeah. Just got the wind knocked out of me." He had coughed out.

Jin sent Y/N a text but she didn't get the full story until Monday. Her fingernails had tapped against her desk, her lips had been pursed.

"I know things didn't end well with Jimin but..." She had held up her hand to shut him up.

"That doesn't matter. This is the third time Lee has attempted to mess where I have expressed he shouldn't. That man has evidently never been taught what consequences are, I think it's time he learned. Did he really think I wouldn't find out about this?"

"I mean..." Jin shrugged. "It would've been easy to find out Jimin doesn't see you anymore." Y/N had shaken her head and sighed.

That day Lee received the call he'd been waiting for since being informed Kim Seokjin had been at Jimin's apartment. Y/N's contract with him was void. Lee could deal with the fits his shareholders would kick up. They made sure he wasn't a threat anymore.

The only thing Jimin heard from Jin next time they saw each other.

"She took care of it." He hadn't trusted himself enough to inquire further, was just grateful he had been protected yet again.