Across the intersection, under the sputtering fluorescent light of a tired-looking apartment building, a door banged open. A figure stumbled out onto the sidewalk, caught off-balance. A man followed, his voice cutting through the hum of traffic.

The girl—Y/n—regained her footing, shoulders tense. She didn’t look back, just kept walking, but the man—Mark—grabbed her arm, spinning her around.

Jungkook didn’t answer. His gloved hand stayed resting on the throttle, his tinted visor fixed on the scene across the street. Mark was in Y/n’s space now, one finger jabbing near her face, his other hand still tight on her arm.