I sat there, quite confused for a second as I watched the blonde man tinkle with some machine in the corner of the room. He was letting me go? This did not happen in the original fanfiction; I was not planning for this. Was there going to be some weird catch where I was going to walk out the door and he was going to be like "SIKE." And shoot me? Or maybe I was really just that ugly that even the mafia didn't want me? I had no clue. The only thing I knew is that this man was expecting me to leave when I was still handcuffed to a chair.

"Umm...the handcuffs?" I questioned him, my voice reflecting the fact that this was one of the first things he should have done before telling me to leave. He swung around towards me with a scowl, before his eyes landed on the metal things holding me hostage and he realised that he hadn't undone them before stupidly telling me to leave.

His cheeks bloomed pink as he rolled his eyes as if I was the stupid one. Strutting to my side, he reached into the pocket of his black suit pants and pulled out a small silver key which he used to undo the handcuffs from my irritated wrists. He dropped the cuffs down on the floor as if they were hot coals and proceeded to go back to whatever he was doing beforehand mumbling something that sounded like Jimin's name.

Now that I was not confined to a chair, I was free to go. Not sure about where I was or where I was going to go from here, but that would work itself out. Rubbing my wrists that were red from rubbing against the metal confiners, I pulled myself up from the chair with an umpf like an old lady. The chair was similar to chairs I grew up with at school, carbon copied foldable chairs that were about as supportive as my parents, and my back was not happy about that. Also no one in the world of fanfics told me that you get horrendous pins and needles after being tied to a chair for hours.

I limped towards the door with the feeling of five million tiny ant sized needles stabbing me in the left leg, one million questions going through my mind, and an ass that was originally thick but now felt deflated after sitting on a chair for several hours. And Yoongi, where was he? Guardian angel writer guy my ass!

Finally, after a walk of pain that felt like four hours, although it was like two steps, I reached the door, grasping the door knob and attempted to open it, and that's when I heard an assertive, "Wait," from behind me. Feeling my whole body tense up like one big cramped muscle, I knew I was right when I originally assumed there was a catch to this. At this point all of my internal organs in charge of keeping my body from going into a mess were going into overdrive. My fate was decided. I was going to get shot in the head. Maybe not die, since I am the main character...No maybe I will die, maybe this will be the one in 100 chance of me being a Y/N that dies in her own story.

I didn't really want to get shot. Would I feel pain? Or would I just end back up in my room covered in BTS posters? Or would I die in the real world too? And why was this so much scarier to experience than I thought it would be?

"Actually, we have a no witness policy." I heard his deep voice confirm my assumptions that I was going to die, and I could already tell that he had turned from tinkering with the machine and was facing towards my vulnerable back, perhaps even slowly advancing forward to attack me from behind. We stood in silence for a while, as if he was waiting for me to speak, but once he saw my body was frozen solid with fear, he continued "You can either stay with us or die. I'm sure you won't be that difficult to incorporate into the team with your attitude." He cockily ended the suggestion with a backhanded compliment, which to me wasn't that insulting, seeing as how my attitude is one of my most prized possessions.

I could see now he was awaiting my answer, and I've never been one for peer pressure. Maybe he should have just shot me then and there and not let me have the decision, because I was a nervous wreck, and all I could manage out was, "I-I wanna go home though." Not an option. Just a brain fart. He sighed loudly, thanks to my idiotic answer, but I couldn't help but think the exhale of annoyance was kinda hot. "Did you not just hear what I said? You either stay or die, there is no home."

I got a bit cocky, seeing as how he hadn't shot me yet, and muttered, "What's in it for me if I stay?" If he got enraged at my audacity I could just say it wasn't me and that it was my nervousness trying to have a backbone that caused me to speak so boldly to someone holding a gun. However, he didn't seem enraged, at least from what I could hear behind me; there was silence.

"What about food?" He suggested back, his voice still far enough away from my back to let me know he wasn't planning on taking me out yet. The annoyance was gone from his voice and his suggestion seemed genuine, although quite weak. Y/N's house was a mansion, with a Lamborghini. If I got back there I would probably be treated to a five star meal every time I sat at the table, I mean even the pancakes this morning were amazing. But, BTS and food sounded like a good deal, as long as they promised not to hurt me, like in the original fanfic. "No harm will come to me?" I inquired of the blonde young man who was standing behind me as if he couldn't have stabbed me by now if he really wanted to. I mean, even Jungkook, who was still out on the floor, wasn't even immune to this guy's wrath.

"I'll make sure of it." He said confidently. And that's when I realised; this man was wrapped around my finger. I had the power of Y/N. The Y/N effect. Of course he wasn't going to hurt me. This man probably was already head over heels with me. Losing all previous nervousness due to that thought, I turned to the ethereally handsome blonde man and grinned.

"You have a deal, mi amigo."