Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

In high school, Jimin’s teacher explained that there were 24.6 suicides for every 100,000 citizens, making it the number one cause of death among young people in Korea.. At the time, he never thought much about suicide, but it started appearing everywhere. It was in television, books, films, and even Hangyeol, a boy he had known since primary school, took his own life during their last year of high school.

A strange numbness always accompanied Jimin when these tragedies popped up. It was always sad, unfortunate, disappointing. Jimin remembers seeing the framed photograph of his dead classmate adorned with flowers on the front lawn of his schoolyard and thinking that it would never be him.

There was never a single day when Jimin went to bed and decided he didn't want to wake up. It wasn't a switch that flipped and made him dread existing. For him, the grip of hopelessness was slow and deep, dragging him towards a grave like water overtaking a sinking ship.

And when he drew in what felt like it could be his last breath, he wondered if his death would be counted in that 24.6 out of 100,000. If someone will read about him as a statistic. Someone to be sad over—feel sorry for.

Jimin wondered if anyone would miss him as blackness took hold of his mind, and he drowned. The world was black, and all the pain was replaced by an eternal emptiness. There was nothing here to miss or long for, nothing here to suffer from, no one here to hide from.

Here, everything was gone.

Until it wasn't.

Light broke through the dark grip of death—a ripple of color webs through the blackness, like sunlight through shattered glass.

Something was wrong.

Sound vibrated through the empty plane of existence he floated through. Incoherent mumbles grew louder until they sounded like words.

"Mr. Park? Can you hear me?"

A voice he did not recognize echoed around him, melting away his barren serenity.

Something was very wrong.

The emptiness collapsed. Light ripped through the blackness, scattering it into thousands of pieces and sending it crashing down, piercing his skin. The sensation of needles ebbed away the numbness of his body, impaling every inch of him.

Pain roared across his flesh like a fire. His head throbbed, and the blood that pulsed through his body felt like venom. His lungs burned for air, his chest muscles shrieking with every movement—something was lodged in his mouth, something big and awkward, leaving behind the sterile taste of plastic.

He tried to breathe again, inhaling deeper, but whatever was clogging his throat blocked the air from coming in. His nostrils flared, desperate for oxygen to relieve the burning in his chest.

Around him, the light grew brighter, the voices louder. He had to get out of here. This wasn't right. This wasn't supposed to be happening. He felt his body jolt with a flood of adrenaline, waking his weak heart with a shot of electricity, and then all he could hear was the pounding of blood through his head.

He can't breathe. He has to remove whatever is blocking his throat. His chest contracted with a pathetic attempt to push the air out, pain searing down his body. He thrashes, but something catches him.

Was he restrained?

"He is regaining consciousness."

"Mr. Park? Mr. Park? Jimin, can you hear me? Are you with us?"

Jimin's head throbbed, the syllables of his name sinking into his mind. He tried to move again when he felt the grip of foreign hands on his body, holding him still against the flat surface he was lying on. Everything was too loud, too bright, too close. He wanted it to stop, to be left alone. There was supposed to be silence, darkness, peace.

The voices moved around him, then there was a prick in his left arm, and finally, his eyelids shot open.

Fuck.

Jimin was still alive.

It had been at least 24 hours, or maybe 48? Not that it mattered, anyway.

Jimin's eyes blinked open, fighting against the harsh fluorescents above his bed. Adjusting to the light in the hospital room was more challenging than it should be, especially with the medication they were giving him, but he was getting used to it. Each time he woke up, he felt less and less disoriented.

He scanned the room briefly, noticing his nurse wasn't there. He rolled his head to the side, trying to remember where the clock was. It could be lunchtime, or it could be the middle of the night. He had lost all concept of time.

The hum of the monitors next to him was hard to ignore, the monotone beeping like pinpricks to his throbbing head. His eyes landed on the green numbers illuminated on the screen. He didn't know what most of them meant, but he recognized the steady up and down line running across one of them.

His heartbeat.

A strange feeling caught between relief and devastation twisted in his stomach.

"Hey, are you awake?"

Jimin turned towards the voice, finding his brother sitting in a chair across from his bed.

"Unfortunately," Jimin said, his voice rough and scratchy. Jihyun smiled, a soft laugh bubbling out of his mouth like this was a joke.

"Mom is freaking out, you know. I thought they would have to admit her too,'' Jihyun said casually, sitting up taller to press his back against the chair. His hands smoothed over his denim-clad legs, fingers catching in the rips that frayed around his knees. Jimin forced a smile for Jihyun's sake, but anxiety flared in his chest at the thought of having to answer to his mother.

What information had she fed to his doctors and nurses? Did she tell them that Jimin was a good boy? That he always stayed out of trouble? That this had to be some terrible mistake? How far did she go to cover up another one of Jimin's embarrassing mistakes?

It wasn't like Jimin didn't play the role she expected of him. He had tried for years to be exactly what she raised him to be, her version of a perfect son, and he knew that he would lie again when he inevitably had to speak to her. He would assure her she was right, like always. The thought made his gut wrench.

For once in his life, he just wanted to be selfish and not have to answer to anyone or have to pretend that he wasn't miserable. But here he was, trying to prepare an explanation for his family because that was what a good son was supposed to do.

"Where is mom? Is she here now?" Jimin asked, tongue poking out to wet his chapped lips, his throat still raw from the night he arrived.

"She is talking to the nurse," Jihyun said, looking towards the door. "I think they might let you go home tonight. Mom wants you to come home with us."

Jimin huffed. "Of course she does."

Jihyun stared back at Jimin, eyes round and innocent, waiting as if Jimin might agree. He was just as oblivious as everyone else.

Jimin rubbed at his eyes, pressing hard with closed fists until the blackness behind his eyelids exploded with a burst of color. He swallowed around his dry throat, dropping his hands to squint at his brother, but seeing him without his glasses was hard. Regardless, he could tell Jihyun looked tired.

How long had he been waiting here? Guilt crept into Jimin's consciousness.

Jihyun's posture was stiff, abnormally rigid for the carefree boy Jimin was more familiar with. His shoulders were tense, and his hands were tightly clasped in his lap. He chewed on his bottom lip like he was restraining himself from bombarding Jimin with a million questions. Jimin held his breath.

"Where the fuck did you get Percocet?"

Jimin closed his eyes. He was not ready for this. He drew a deep breath, momentarily holding it in his chest before letting it hiss past his lips. When he opened his eyes, Jihyun stared at him expectantly.

"Coworkers," Jimin answered honestly, hoping that would be enough.

Topics like this had always been off the table between them. It surprised Jimin that Jihyun was the one he had woken up to instead of his mother. It wasn’t that the two of them weren't close, there was just so much Jihyun didn't understand.

Then Jihyun's expression softened, almost as if the idea entertained him. "You're so stupid."

Jimin's eyes narrowed slightly, trying to focus his blurry vision. Jihyun's lips turned upward, curling into a smile. "Tequila not strong enough for you anymore?'' Jihyun continued, shaking his head. "I know you guys like to have fun, but shit... Jimin, this was really fucking stupid."

Oblivious.

Jimin almost wanted to laugh, but the corner of his mouth trembled, threatening to release a sob instead. He swallowed around the lump in his throat, blinking away the burn in his eyes. "I know, Jihyun," he said quietly. "It was a mistake."

That part didn't feel like a lie. This was a mistake. Jimin wasn't supposed to be talking to him right now. Jimin should be in the basement of this hospital right now, cold on a metal bed with a tag on his toe. Instead, he was with his little brother, who looked at him like everything was okay.

But Jimin had never felt so broken.

Jimin unlocked his apartment's front door and was smothered by warm, bony arms wrapping around his neck.

"Jimin! I'm so happy you're okay," Taehyung gushed, tightening his arms around Jimin's neck and pulling him closer for a proper hug.

Jimin slowly brought his arms up in an awkward attempt to hug back. "Hey, Tae. Yeah... I'm okay." The words felt heavy and wrong.

Taehyung pulled back far enough to look at Jimin's face. His smile was beautiful, and Jimin was struck by how much he missed it. His eyes narrowed, and his lips pulled into a rectangular shape that exposed his white teeth.

It was one of the things Jimin thought about when he was lying in Yoongi's bathtub.

"You scared the shit out of me. Out of everyone." Taehyung's dark brown eyes searched Jimin's. "What happened? Seriously? Your mother said someone drugged you."

Jimin rolled his eyes. "She is always so dramatic," he sighed, avoiding Taehyung's intense stare. "I'll tell you later," he lied. "Right now I'm exhausted. I just want to shower and sleep."

Taehyung pouted and pulled away. "Okay. I'll order food for us tonight. My treat. We should watch a movie together or something if you're up for it."

"That sounds perfect," Jimin said, and Taehyung offered to sort through the local restaurants to see who had the fastest delivery, leaving Jimin alone to settle in.

It felt weird to be home, almost like a dream. Two years ago, Jimin had moved here with Taehyung, and in that time, the tiny two-bedroom apartment had felt more like his home than his parent's house back in Busan had. Jimin had only been in the hospital for three days, and somehow, in that time, the apartment had turned foreign again.

Walking into his bedroom felt like stepping into a stranger's life. Everything was the same way he left it. His bed was unmade, and a half-empty glass of water was on his dresser, but it didn't feel like home anymore.

Everything felt like an old memory, a reminder of the pathetic life he was trying to escape: an empty twin bed, a barren bookshelf, a closet of work uniforms. Everything was so plain, so insignificant.

Jimin closed the door behind him and draped his jacket over the desk chair, looking over his room. A glint of light caught his eyes, and he tilted his head to find a single helium balloon tied to the desk lamp with big glittery writing running across it. 'Get well soon.'

Taehyung.

Jimin's throat tightened, and he felt like falling apart again.

"Jimin, it will be fun," Taehyung said, voice high and whiny. "Just think about it."

"But I barely know them, and I'm tired. I doubt I'll be any fun tonight." Jimin didn't even bother looking up from his phone to answer.

"You're always fun to be around," Taehyung said, leaning over the couch to pinch Jimin's cheeks affectionately. "After a few drinks, it will be like we are all best friends."

Jimin thought back to the last time he drank, nearly three weeks ago. The night he stayed at Yoongi's.

Jimin sighed and shook away the memory. "If I agree, then you can't abandon me. And I don't care how horny you get."

Taehyung laughed and walked around the couch, shoving Jimin's legs off the edge to make a space for himself before plopping beside him. "That goes for you, too."

Jimin dropped his phone onto his chest. "Oh really? Because I'm so notorious for hooking up with strangers I meet at bars." His voice was flat, but the corners of his mouth pulled up with a hint of a smile. "I don't need anyone else irritating me in my life."

Taehyung stretched his arms across the back of the couch, a grin on his dark lips. "Do I really bother you that much, Jiminnie? I could always rent your room out to Seokjin instead."

Jimin laughed and nudged Taehyung's thigh with his foot. "Like you two would need separate bedrooms."

Taehyung ignored the comment, focusing on his hands instead, examining his fingernails. "Wear something cute tonight. Seokjin's friends will be there."

"You say that as if I don't always dress cute," Jimin said and picked up his phone again, mentally weighing his options.

Did he really want to do this?

On a good day, Jimin enjoyed bar-hopping with Taehyung, even if that meant ignoring the way his friend would obnoxiously drape himself over Seokjin at every opportunity. Jimin refreshed his notifications again, eyes glued to the phone screen. "Maybe I'll just stay home."

Taehyung ignored him. "Those black boots with the little heel on them—wear those."

Jimin sighed. Agreeing to go out was one thing, but physically going through with it was another. The only reason Jimin had left the apartment since returning home from the hospital was to go to work. Otherwise, nothing else interested him.

This wasn't the first time Taehyung had invited him out, and Jimin was running out of excuses. Taehyung's concern was evident. Jimin noticed how Taehyung talked more delicately around him now, doing little check-ins if Jimin stayed locked in his room for too long or sending him daily positive affirmations he found on Instagram.

Jimin wanted to be able to go out, have fun, and assure Taehyung that he was fine, that everything was normal. He wanted to do anything to keep his roommate from asking too many questions.

However, the preparations for everything that went along with going out made accepting Taehyung's offer harder. Jimin had not washed his hair in two or three days, there was a small patch of blemishes on the bottom of his right cheek from neglecting his skin care, and he honestly couldn't remember the last time he did laundry.

Jimin glanced over at Taehyung, who was smiling down at his phone, his right leg rocking, full of excitement. Taehyung looked so happy, he always did.

And fuck, Jimin wanted to be happy, too. He wanted to feel that same rush of excitement as he had when he was younger, when life was less depressing and complicated. He swallowed another gulp of air, hoping the extra oxygen would give him the energy to go through with this.

This would be something different, something new—a distraction from the relentless nightmares that haunted him when he was alone.

He forced himself up from the couch. "Alright, What time are we leaving?"

Jimin looked down into the glass of beer in front of him. He was restraining himself from either downing the drink in one gulp or abandoning it entirely.

The bar was crowded tonight. Music pulsed loudly through the dimly lit building, and the air was heavy and warm despite the cool September evening. Taehyung stood next to him at their table, his glass half-empty. He brought his hand up to cover his mouth, stifling his laughter as Seokjin whispered in his ear.

"This song always makes me want to dance," Hoseok's bright voice broke through the music next to Jimin, pulling his focus away from his drinking dilemma. Jimin just smiled and nodded awkwardly at the taller man. Hoseok was Seokjin's friend. Jimin had only met him one other time—or at least that's all he could remember. "Do you like to dance, Jimin?"

Jimin shook his head. "I get claustrophobic around that many people." He raised his glass. "And I'll need at least two more of these before you can think about dragging me out there."

Hoseok laughed cheerfully, rolling his eyes, and Jimin took a drink, which turned into a gulp as he tilted the glass further to let the now room-temperature beer flood his throat.

Why did he agree to this again?

Jimin was halfway through his second beer and still glued to the same spot when Taehyung decided to acknowledge his presence again. "Seokjin said his friend is on the way." 

Jimin hadn't been paying attention to the current conversation. His mind wandered most of the night. This used to be easy. He would show up at places like this excited, wanting to let loose and win the attention of strangers, but now he felt so out of place.

Across from them, Hoseok had confidently blended in with the crowd gathered on the dance floor. It struck a strange sadness in Jimin, and he almost wished he had taken Hoseok up on his offer. Maybe closer to the speakers, it would have been easier to drown out his thoughts. Jimin wasn't drunk yet, but he needed to be.

Beside him, Taehyung was still talking, dramatically dragging out the syllables. "You should have invited Yoongi. I haven't seen him in forever." 

"He’s been too busy to come around recently," Jimin lied, then craned his head towards the bar to inspect how dense the crowd was. Right now seemed like an opportune moment to step away from their cramped table. "I have to run to the restroom real quick." Taehyung just nodded and quickly became enraptured by whatever story Seokjin was telling.

After briefly freshening up in the bathroom, Jimin stood at the bar alone, ordering a stronger drink. He was more fun drunk, he told himself. Everyone liked Jimin better when he was fun. He took a moment to savor the first couple of sips of the clear liquor while he was alone and hoped no one would try to spark a conversation with him.

It was quieter here. There was a steady flow of patrons, but no one stuck around for too long. Jimin watched the liquid in the shallow glass tremble with the music's bass. Disco lights illuminated the rippled surface with primary colors. When did his life become so sad and empty? So pathetic that even while accompanying his friends to a bar he still ended up alone.

After swallowing down most of the drink, he decided he had been gone long enough and didn't want to risk anyone coming to look for him. At least, he would like to believe that they would. He clenched the glass tightly before turning away from the bar to head back to his friends.

The last thing Jimin expected was to crash into another body right in front of him, the glass falling out of his hand, spilling the remaining liquid down the front of his shirt, then shattering across the floor. The impact caused Jimin to jolt backward, biting down on the corner of his cheek. A delayed gasp escaped his lips as his brain tried to process what happened.

The cooling sensation of alcohol seeping into the fabric of his shirt sent chills across his skin, and he tilted his head down to survey the damage. Jimin's throat tightened, suddenly feeling the urge to cry at the sight of his ruined shirt and the murmurs of the people around him staring. He wished he had just stayed home.

"Oh, shit. Sorry—I'm so sorry."

Jimin's head snapped up to look at the man he collided with. The stranger's eyes were glued to the wet stain growing across Jimin's chest. "That was entirely my fault! I was texting. I'm so sorry." His hands reached toward Jimin's wet shirt, and Jimin instinctively stepped back. "Hey, careful—wait—the glass." The stranger warned before he bent down at Jimin's feet to pick up the shards.

"It's fine." Jimin's voice was soft, and it didn't seem like the stranger heard him. Jimin crouched down to the floor, picking up the leftover glass. He tried again, "I wasn't looking where I was going."

The stranger looked up, and their eyes locked. Jimin was caught off guard by his attractiveness. His eyes were wide and gentle, and his lips pulled into a concerned pout that was uniquely beautiful. He looked young, but his sharp jaw and strong chin contradicted the softness of the rest of his face. Dark hair fell in loose waves across his forehead, and Jimin couldn't tell if it was damp or just styled that way. He looked genuinely remorseful.

"You're bleeding."

What?

The gears in Jimin's mind began turning again as he tore his eyes away from the trance the stranger's brown eyes had pulled him into. He looked down at his feet. Had he accidentally stepped in the glass?

"No, your mouth." Jimin looked back at the stranger before bringing his hand to his lips, then examined his fingers, red smeared across the tips.

Embarrassed, Jimin's voice came out small. "Oh. I think I bit my lip or something."

Immediately, the stranger gathered the rest of the broken glass. "Hold on." He stepped away and moved towards the bar. Jimin slowly stood up and peeled the damp fabric of his shirt out from his chest and looked over to where he left his friends. Hoseok had joined them again, and Jimin briefly wondered if they were having more fun without him.

Wide eyes appeared before him again, pulling Jimin from his thoughts. The man reached out with a tissue to dab at the remaining blood smeared across Jimin's bottom lip. Jimin, shocked by his boldness, took the tissue and stepped back. "I got it. It's fine."

The man smiled, and Jimin could feel pity oozing from it. "Again, I'm really, really sorry…" His voice trailed off as he clasped his hands in front of his chest, and Jimin noticed the way the leather sleeves of his jacket tightened around his biceps. "Can I get you more napkins? Or a towel? For your shirt.'' Jimin crunched the tissue in his hand, dropping it to his side.

"It's fine," Jimin said. "It will dry." His eyes darted back toward his friends, hoping the stranger would leave and walk away.

"Let me at least buy you another drink?" Jimin's brow rose in surprise, and he turned his attention back to the stranger. "Seriously, I don't mind. What are you drinking?"

"Vodka tonic," Jimin replied without thinking. The man smiled again, wider than before.

Jimin sighed, wondering what he was doing while the man disappeared to retrieve his drink. The whole incident killed what little buzz he had going, and he doubted a replacement cocktail would offer him any more relief. But a free drink was a free drink, and if Jimin was honest with himself, he missed the days when he never had to even open his wallet to come to places like this.

A vibration in his pocket suddenly drew his attention. He pulled his phone out to read the text he had just received from Taehyung, alerting him that his favorite song was playing. Did they still think he was in the bathroom? Jimin checked the time and realized he had been gone for at least twenty minutes. His stomach knotted at the thought that none of them had come to check on him. It made him wonder how long he laid in the bath before Yoongi found him.

A tap on the shoulder startled him, and he turned around to be met with the same gentle brown eyes. "Here—I didn't know if you preferred lemon or lime, so I just picked lemon because yellow matches your shirt."

Jimin eyed him carefully. He accepted the drink but suddenly had second thoughts about actually putting the contents into his body. Maybe the man had put something in it. Maybe the whole accident was just a trick.

"Thanks," Jimin replied flatly, staring into the glass to see if he could detect any white tablets dissolving at the bottom.

"Sorry again," the man said awkwardly. Jimin glanced in his direction out of the corner of his eye, catching a hint of frown tugging at the man's lips before he turned away and disappeared into the crowd. Jimin's grip on the glass tightened, ensuring it was secure as he navigated back to where he left Taehyung and the others.

Attempting to rejoin the group smoothly, Jimin placed the glass down on the table, pulling up to the spot that he had left vacant. Taehyung noticed his return and beamed at him. "What? You couldn't have brought enough for the rest of us?"

"You haven't had enough already?" Jimin tried to tease him, although his tone was more serious than intended. He cleared his throat and reached for the drink, giving it a swirl, the half-melted ice clinking against the sides of the glass. "Someone just gave this to me, anyway."

The comment caught the attention of the others. Hoseok's face lit up, and his expression grew into an excited grin. "Were you off making friends without us?"

Jimin felt three pairs of eyes weigh down on him, and he shook his head. "Not exactly."

"Still haven't found anyone good enough to meet your standards?" Seokjin asked from across the table.

What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

Jimin never considered himself to be excessively particular when it came to meeting new people. Maybe he was a little picky, but intimacy was intimidating for him.

He wasn't the type to crave someone else to make him feel complete, and the temporary satisfaction of being able to say he was in a relationship didn't interest him. Even if Jimin felt broken and empty, that wasn't a void he was waiting for someone else to fill.

"I don't have standards, Jin," Jimin bit out.

"You just choose to be lonely then?" Seokjin's words cut into Jimin's skin, and he felt his hand go limp as it dropped away from the glass on the table. Seokjin could be very sarcastic and bold with his choice of words, and tonight, Jimin wasn't in the mood to laugh him off the way he usually did.

As if Taehyung could sense Jimin's discomfort, he nudged his shoulder. "Jimin isn't lonely, Jin. He has me, and that’s all he needs." Taehyung's hand stretched across the table towards Jimin, a bright grin pulling his lips into the same beautiful smile.

Jimin reluctantly took Taehyung's hand and tried to smile for his sake, thanking him for the comfort but still embarrassed by the conversation. Is this what they all thought of him? Some arrogant snob, too consumed with his vanity to have relationships? Jimin would have relationships if he wanted them.

People flirted with him all the time. His mind wandered back to the brief thirty days he kept a dating profile updated. He talked to lots of people then. It wasn’t that any of them weren't good enough for him. It was just that the experience made Jimin conclude he wasn't ready to be close to anyone at this point in his life, and there was nothing wrong with that.

Was there?

He had friends. He had a life. He didn't need anyone else to validate his place in society. Besides, letting someone new into his life felt more like a chore than anything else.

Opening up was hard, something Jimin purposefully avoided. Everyone always bragged about how it was to share their life with someone—no secrets, only transparency and trust. How could Jimin give that to someone? Let a stranger see the dark ugliness that twisted inside his heart. Even his family—Taehyung and Jihyun—didn't have a clue who Jimin was.

And they didn't need to know. No one did. It was better that way. It gave Jimin a strange sense of power. Only he could decide what people got to see and what they didn't. It was easier to wear a mask despite what everyone always preached about mental health and self-acceptance.

The whole 'you can't love anyone else unless you love yourself' was complete bullshit.

What Jimin did for everyone else—keeping them blind to the shadows that hung over him—was the most selfless thing he could think of.Most importantly, it worked. Everyone in his life was fucking happy—the way they should be. Jimin had accepted that no one could understand his life's strange complications and emotions years ago. It was just a fact, like accepting that winter would always be cold.

A fifth person joining their table distracted Jimin from his spiraling thoughts. Jimin's eyes flicked up from the chipped paint on the tabletop, falling on broad shoulders covered by a worn leather jacket, a black t-shirt underneath, complete with a v-neck that dropped obnoxiously low. Jimin groaned internally.

"Are you following me?" Jimin barked at him from across the table, eyes narrowed. The stranger's wide eyes grew larger at Jimin's comment, like a deer caught in headlights.

Seokjin's eyes darted between the two of them. "Jungkookie? You know Jungkookie?"

What?

Jungkook's nervous chuckle cut through the awkward tension. "Yeah… I kind of spilled a drink on him." He looked back at Jimin, eyes soft and apologetic. "Sorry again."

Seokjin started laughing, and Taehyung quickly joined him. Jimin's jaw clenched. "Is that who bought you the drink, Jiminnie?" Seokjin asked.

Jimin's cheeks flushed as his teeth clenched tightly together. Why did he feel like the butt of a joke?

"It was the least I could do for him. I felt awful. I should be blaming you, Hyung." Jungkook directed his attention to Seokjin, whose shoulders shook with laughter. "I was reading your texts when I just walked right into him."

Even Hoseok's bright, bubbly voice broke into laughter, his hand coming down to smack against the tabletop. Jimin lowered his eyes to the table to avoid making eye contact with anyone, rubbing his fingertips into the small rings of condensation left behind by cold glasses.

"I guess I should make proper introductions then?" Seokjin said, patting Jungkook's back. "Everyone meet Jungkook, the closest thing to a little brother I've ever had. Jungkook, this is Hoseok, Jimin, and Taehyung."

Jungkook's attention landed on Taehyung. "I've heard a lot about you. I'm glad I finally get to meet you in person."

Taehyung grinned coyly, elbows resting on the table, cradling his head in his palms. His eyes flicked to Seokjin. "I hope I live up to your expectations."

Unable to shake his irritation at this whole situation, Jimin chose this moment to finally taste the drink Jungkook had given to him. It was bitter but went down smooth, and something about knowing that Jungkook had replaced his watered-down tonic with top-shelf liquor added another twist of annoyance in Jimin's stomach.

Conversation came naturally to the small group, even with adding a fifth person. Jungkook was charming and polite, the perfect combination of bashful and adorable. Apparently, he had just returned home after working overseas, sharing all his exciting experiences with the table. But it never came off arrogant, and Jimin noticed the way blush grew across his nose in embarrassment when Seokjin teased him.

Jimin pulled out his phone halfway through a story about how warm the oceans were in America compared to Korea to give his mind something else to focus on. It wasn't long until everyone wanted to move out onto the dance floor, complaining about stiff legs from standing in place for too long.

Jimin declined again.

"I just feel dizzy and don't want to embarrass you guys. I'm fine here, I promise." Jimin smiled through his lie. Taehyung stayed behind with him and put his arm around Jimin's shoulders, gently massaging the skin on the back of his neck. "Are you sure you're okay? I can tell Seokjin I need to take you home, and we can leave."

Jimin signed, grateful for the affection. Maybe Taehyung was oblivious to some things, but he still cared a lot. Taehyung could be so selfless it made Jimin feel guilty for ever thinking he possessed that quality.

"I just didn't eat enough before we left the house," Jimin said. "And I didn't sleep well last night." Taehyung frowned at him, his lips parted, but Jimin stopped him before he could say anything. "I'm fine, Tae." He forced a laugh to reassure him. "Seriously, go have fun. I just need a minute, and I'll join you guys."

Taehyung narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips, assessing Jimin's reply. Jimin widened his eyes and pushed out his lips to mock him. Taehyung challenged him by moving his face closer, his expression morphing into something even more exaggerated and ridiculous. A giggle tore its way out of Jimin's lips, his eyes crinkling as he laughed. He shoved Taehyung's shoulder. "Go dance with your boyfriend."

"I'll be waiting for you, Park Jimin," Taehyung said in a serious tone and Jimin rolled his eyes. Then he was alone again.

The longer Jimin stood alone at the table the more vulnerable he felt. He became more aware of the warm bodies passing around him, the loud voices of the crowd and how obviously he contrasted the atmosphere. He wondered if anyone would try to talk to him.

The idea of being approached didn't bother Jimin too much. He didn't mind being flirted with. However, not everyone who tried their luck at approaching Jimin in the past played nicely. It wasn’t that Jimin had a long list of horror stories about bar strangers crossing boundaries with him, but some people were rude, invasive, or just plain creepy. Jimin didn't like to be touched, breathed on, or even looked at the wrong way. It was uncomfortable and unwelcome.

Jimin scrolled through his phone instead, not feeling playful tonight. Maybe people thought he was waiting for someone, given the other drinks scattered across the tabletop next to his own. Jimin played out a fantasy in his head. He was on a blind date, waiting to meet a mysterious stranger. Maybe he didn't look lonely. He entertained the idea momentarily but quickly dropped it. The idea of being on a date began sparking more anxiety within him than amusement.

The night grew longer, and the battery of Jimin's phone dropped quickly as he stayed locked in the same spot. He tried to talk himself into joining his friends, worried that Taehyung would return to check on him again if he didn't. But going out on the dance floor still felt intimidating, so instead, he settled for just staring into the drink in front of him. The ice had melted, and only one sip was missing.

"You prefer lime, don't you?"

Jimin's head perked up at the question. It was Jungkook again, gentle brown eyes looking down at him. Jimin must have looked annoyed because Jungkook quickly lifted his hands in mock surrender. "I'm not following you, I swear."

Jimin shook his head and looked back down into the drink. He dipped his fingers into the glass, the cooling sensation of the alcohol tingling his fingers as he pulled the lemon out of the drink. "I barely taste the difference, honestly."

"Can I get you something else?" Jungkook asked. Jimin's brow lifted, catching himself halfway interested in the offer.

Jimin shook the possibility from his head just as quickly as it came. Jungkook was nice, but nothing more. "No, I'm fine." He dropped the lemon back into the glass and pushed it away from himself.

"I didn't offend you, did I?" Jungkook's eyes looked sad, almost like a scolded puppy.

"No. Like I told Tae, I'm just feeling a little dizzy. This happens sometimes, and I just need to wait it out," Jimin explained. Jungkook's eyes stayed wide and curious as he listened. "Did you come over here just to check on me?"

Jungkook was silent for a moment, and Jimin watched him, looking for any tell, any quirk or awkward flitch that would give his intentions away. "Is that weird?" Jungkook asked, voice steady. Unbothered.

Jimin shook his head. "No. It isn't." He watched as Jungkook nodded and reached for the watered-down vodka tonic to take a drink from it.

"Taehyung said you are a good dancer." Jungkook's voice carried over the music. Jimin bit back the urge to groan, staring at the drink, which looked much smaller in Jungkook's hands than in his own.

"I am when I choose to be."

"I don't know, I'll believe it when I see it,'' Jungkook said playfully, a grin painted across his face.

Jimin rolled his eyes and took the drink from Jungkook to sip from it himself. "Do you only believe in things you can see?"

"In this case, yes."

"That's too bad," Jimin answered flatly, unable to stop the corner of his lips from curling into a smile.

Jungkook chuckled, and there was something endearing about his smile. Something that made Jimin feel comfortable.

"Have Seokjin and Taehyung always been like that?" Jungkook asked, and Jimin glanced away to find his friends in the mass of people swaying to a slow song under the colorful lights. Taehyung's arm was casually draped over Seokjin's broad shoulders, bodies pressed flushed together.

"More recently, yes, but they have always had good chemistry," Jimin answered.

"It's strange..." Jungkook started, and Jimin leaned in closer to ensure he could hear what Jungkook was saying. "I've never seen Seokjin"—he paused like he was searching for the right words—"not single before."

Jimin snorted. "Well, I don't think they have made it official yet. Tae has told me that Seokjin has commitment issues."

Jungkook huffed a laugh. "Now that, I believe. Still, he seems really affectionate with Taehyung."

Jimin hummed. "I think it's probably just Taehyung that has rubbed off on him."

"Ah," Jungkook replied, eyes still fixed on Taehyung and Seokjin dancing together. "It's cute."

Jimin glanced over at Jungkook again, who was still fascinated by the crowd and their friends tangled in each other's arms. "Yeah," said Jimin, voice too quiet to be heard.

The next hour passed quickly. Jimin remained planted in the same spot, and his knees ached from standing for so long. Jungkook didn't hang around, his interest piqued by the crowd at the bar.

The vodka tonic was long forgotten, and Jimin felt utterly sober. His hair felt heavy on his head, and the smell of beer and sweaty bodies seeped into his clothes. Meeting Seokjin's friend had been nice, but it wasn't worth coming out tonight.

Jimin had only agreed to come because being alone now felt different. A night alone in the apartment didn't feel lonely or quiet. It felt empty.

Suddenly, a pair of hands were on his waist, followed by a chin resting on his shoulder.

"Jiminnie," Taehyung's voice slurred into Jimin's ear. Jimin would usually shake him off and laugh, but instead, Jimin stayed motionless and waited for Taehyung to continue. Taehyung swayed his body against Jimin's to the beat of the music. "You didn't come and dance with me."

"You never let go of Seokjin long enough to give me a chance," Jimin said, his voice less playful.

Taehyung's fingers squeezed around Jimin's waist twice. "I was just waiting for you to find me." He drew out the words long and slow.

Jimin chuckled to hide his annoyance and nudged his friend with his elbow. "Are you drunk?"

Taehyung moved from behind Jimin to lean his elbows on the table. His face squinted into a grin. "Seokjin invited me over."

Jimin's face fell, his eyes focused on the obnoxious expression frozen on Taehyung's face. "Tonight? What happened to you not abandoning me?"

Taehyung absentmindedly reached for the forgotten cocktail across from Jimin and sniffed at it. "I'm not abandoning you. I haven't said yes yet."

"So, did you come over here to ask for my permission or something?" Jimin felt the way his jaw tightened as he bit out the question.

Taehyung giggled, leaning his entire body weight into Jimin, smothering him with a drunken hug. Jimin pried Taehyung's hands off and pouted. "Taehyung—"

Taehyung rolled his eyes and straightened his posture. "I'll tell Seokjin another time."

Fuck. Why did that make him feel so guilty?

Irritation flooded Jimin at Taehyung for putting him in the position of being the annoying, needy friend who refused to let Taehyung do what he actually wanted. He knew Seokjin would be irritated, too, cementing Jimin's status as the clingy best friend. Jimin bit the inside of his cheek and swallowed around the lump forming in his throat. "It's fine, Taehyung. Go home with him."

Taehyung shook his head. "No, no. I promised you I wasn't leaving you, and I won't. Seokjin will understand." The words flowed from his mouth slower than usual.

"You're ridiculous if you thought I believed you would keep that promise." Taehyung laughed at the comment, but it hurt.

Of course, Jungkook chose that moment to make his reappearance. His timing seemed to be annoyingly inconvenient.

"Hey, where is Seokjin?” he asked Taeyhung. “I'm leaving and wanted to say goodbye." 

Taehyung pouted at Jungkook. "You're leaving? But we barely got to talk about anything."

Jungkook laughed, his nose scrunching with his grin. "I'll see you again soon, hopefully. I have more catching up to do with Seokjin."

"Did you drive here?" Taehyung asked, "Seokjin said you have a car."

Jungkook nodded, and Taehyung's eyes quickly darted to Jimin, a mischievous grin growing across his face.

Jimin's fists clenched, and he glared back at his friend as if to telepathically tell him to stop speaking. Taehyung's attention returned to Jungkook anyway, his expression smug as he adjusted the collar of Jungkook's leather jacket. "You should give Jiminie a ride home then."

Jungkook's expression stiffened, his head turning to look at Jimin. Heat radiated up to the tips of Jimin's ears at the unwanted attention. He immediately shook his head. "He’s joking."

"If you really need a ride, it's fine. I don't mind," Jungkook said sincerely, and Jimin wished he could disappear.

He felt like an idiot. An idiot whose friends were leaving him and setting him up with a man he barely knew. Was that all he was good for? Just the friend who stuck around so everyone would have a joke to laugh at?

Jimin shook his head again, unable to force a smile any longer. He dug his fingernails into his palms. "It's fine. I'm just going to get the bus. I don't live far."

Jungkook's eyes never left Jimin, his expression mirroring the one from earlier when he was concerned he offended Jimin with his cocktail selection. "Seriously, if you live close, it's not a problem. Let me just say goodbye to Seokjin, and I'll walk you to my car."

Jimin wanted to protest, insist that he didn't need a ride from Jungkook and would be fine getting home alone. He wanted everyone to stop treating him like he was so helpless, but Jungkook had already begun speaking to Taehyung again before Jimin could get his vocal cords to function. He silently raged as he watched Taehyung point out Seokjin's whereabouts. Then Jungkook was gone before Jimin had another opportunity to decline.

Jimin's face twisted into a scowl once Jungkook had left the table. "Why did you do that, Taehyung? I don't even know him."

Taehyung's face pulled into a drunken smile. "Oh, relax. I saw how you looked at him earlier. You can thank me when I get home tomorrow."

Jimin's fist clenched tighter, his mood teetering on the edge between irritated and furious. Every aspect of this evening was terrible, but it still continued to grow worse. Jimin had tried to play along, have fun, and support his friend, but now he felt like Taehyung had crossed the line. "I wish you didn't do that. I don't want to give Jungkook the wrong idea."

Taehyung reached across the table to rub Jimin's arm as if to offer some sort of comfort, while Jimin continued to glare at him. "He is Seokjin's best friend, and he is really nice. It's just a free ride, Jiminnie."

Jimin wanted to raise his voice and snap at Taehyung. It wasn't just a ride. It was Jimin putting his own comfort aside so he could come out to a place he didn't want to be to amuse his friend. It was Jimin making himself physically uncomfortable to avoid ruining Taehyung's evening. Now, he had to ride home with a stranger while Taehyung cuddled with his boyfriend all night, leaving Jimin alone in the apartment, feeling empty.

Jimin was making himself so angry he didn't even want to reply to Taehyung. He crossed his arms tightly in front of his chest and looked away. Taehyung reached for him again, squeezing Jimin's forearm affectionately to get his attention. Jimin's eyes darted back in his direction.

"Thank you,'' Taehyung said.

Jimin just closed his eyes and breathed.

Jimin wrapped his arms tightly around himself as he followed Jungkook down the uneven sidewalk. The air was cooler now, and the sky was darker. The bright city lights drowned out all the stars. Jimin kept a few strides behind Jungkook, refusing to play into any implications that Taehyung or Seokjin might have planted in his mind.

They walked silently to Jungkook's car, parked just a block away from the bar, and the short distance allowed Jimin to breathe air that wasn't polluted by cigarettes and sweaty bodies.

He studied the cracks in the concrete as they walked, music thumping in the distance. It was still early for Seoul's nightlife, just after one in the morning. Jimin wondered if Jungkook was going home too or if he was making his rounds across different bars on the strip. Jungkook probably felt sorry for Jimin, being ditched so early in the evening.

When they reached the car, Jungkook opened the passenger door first. Jimin chewed on the inside of his cheek, irritated. The gesture stirred his nerves again, and he wondered if agreeing to this was a bad idea.

Jungkook only smiled and nodded awkwardly before walking to the other side of the car.

Jimin lowered himself slowly into the car.It was just a simple black sedan, but the fact that he even owned a car was impressive, considering Jimin didn't have many friends in the city who did.

Half-finished water bottles and crumpled takeout bags littered the floor, and cardboard boxes overflowed the back seat. Jimin wondered if Jungkook had just arrived in Seoul that day.

His foot knocked against something hard as he settled into the seat, and Jungkook reached for it immediately, causing Jimin to shift his legs to the side to avoid contact.

"Sorry," Jungkook mumbled, pulling the camera bag into his lap and looking over the backseat for a place to drop it. "My car is a mess." Jimin crossed his legs, angling towards the window and away from the console, only nodding when Jungkook asked if he was comfortable, letting silence fill the space between them.

Jungkook messed with a few items behind the driver's seat before turning back around. He fumbled with his keys momentarily before sliding one into the ignition and starting the car. Jimin watched his hand, unable to look anywhere else.

His fingers were long, nails clean and filed neatly. They looked soft, gliding across the leather of the steering wheel, the veins that snaked through the back of his hand bulging when he tightened his grip. On his left hand, Jimin caught a glimpse of ink stretching between his thumb and index finger. A series of numbers, possibly a date?

Jungkook shifted a hand under himself and pulled his phone from his back pocket. He held it out to Jimin's. "Here, do you want to put in your address?"

Jimin eyed the phone hesitantly, the map of their location glowing in Jungkook's hand, and then he shook his head. He pulled his shirt sleeves over his fingers, clenching his hands into fists. "I'm just a few blocks east. I can give you directions."

Jungkook hesitated, a huff of air escaping from his lips. Jimin couldn't tell if it was nerves or frustration. He tried again, eyes fixed on Jimin's. "I am not familiar at all with these street names, honestly. Are you sure?"

Jimin nodded again and turned away, looking out the window into the busy streets ahead. "I told you, I could have just taken the bus."

Jungkook made a soft noise of agreement, then placed his phone down in the empty cup holder of the console, and his hands found their grip on the steering wheel as he looked over his shoulder at the incoming traffic before pulling away from the curb. Jimin wondered how irritated Jungkook must be, getting stuck driving some stranger home when he probably had better things to do.

Jimin remembered when he first moved to Seoul with Taehyung. He barely brought anything from Busan, but it had still been a nightmare lugging all his belongings through trains and transferring buses. He lived out of suitcases for weeks before Taehyung finally decided to unpack and set up Jimin's closet for him.

"Do you like music?" Jungkook's voice pulled him from his thoughts.

Jimin glanced over at him. Jungkook was relaxed against the back of the seat, one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting on the gearshift, fingers drumming mindlessly, entirely unfazed by Jimin's awkward silence.

Jimin cleared his throat, the bitter aftertaste of alcohol sparking back across his tongue. "Um… I don't care," he mumbled quietly, pulling the sleeves of his shirt tighter over his fists.

"Do you like Led Zeppelin?"

"Uh—" Jimin straightened himself up a little in the seat, his eyes following Jungkook's hand as he lifted it towards the radio, fingers hovering above the dial. "I don't listen to them, so I don't know."

Jimin watched as a smile grew on Jungkook's lips, the passing streetlights painting bright flashes of color over his golden skin. "Well, it's the only CD I have with me right now, so I hope it doesn't annoy you. I just…" He stumbled over his words. "I can't sit in silence."

"CD?" Jimin asked, his brow quirking. "Who still listens to CDs?"

Jungkook laughed, and his grin widened, creasing the skin around his eyes. "What's wrong with CDs? They are very reliable, you know."

"I guess," Jimin said with a halfhearted shrug, watching Jungkook turn the audio dial until the sound of a weeping electric guitar filled the car. Jimin rarely listened to English music, but when he did, it was usually something from their current decade. Still, something about the vocalist's smooth voice and the song's rattling melody was pleasant.

Jungkook said nothing during the rest of the drive besides humming along to lyrics Jimin didn't understand. There was one song in particular that Jimin found himself tapping his foot to. It was nice, and he almost wanted to ask the name so he could add it to his own playlist, but of course, he didn't, choosing instead to glance at his phone in case he had missed any notifications from Taehyung.

There was nothing.

Only a few minutes later, they were pulling up outside Jimin's apartment building, and Jungkook reached out to grip the back ofJimin's headrest as he looked over his shoulder, backing the car into the narrow spot. The light, delicate fragrance of Jungkook's cologne wafted into the air, crisp like the ocean but sweet like nectar, somehow entirely direct from what Jimin would have expected.

Jimin fought the urge to lean back and inhale the scent deeper. Jimin had visited his share of department stores when his bank account wasn't drained and was more than well-versed with popular cologne brands. Was Jungkook wearing YSL? Gucci? Something from America that they didn't sell on this side of the world?

Jungkook pulled his arm away, and the scent went with him, leaving only the smell of leather car seats and cheap hairspray.

"Do you want me to walk you up?"

The infamous innuendo connected to that phrase made Jimin's gut churn. This was a bad idea. What was he thinking? Getting in the car with a stranger and giving them directions to his house? Maybe Jungkook hadn't agreed to give Jimin a ride out of the kindness of his heart. Perhaps he did it expecting some sort of compensation.

Maybe Taehyung and Seokjin really said something to him to make him believe Jimin is open and ready to have casual sexual encounters. Maybe that's what they thought he needed. Maybe they are so tired of seeing him being pathetic and alone that they arranged all this to assuage the strain Jimin has been putting on all of them. Maybe—

"Wait, no—" Jungkook interrupted the racing thoughts in Jimin's mind, raising his hands off the steering wheel innocently. "I didn't mean anything weird." Jimin swallowed, blinking at Jungkook as he slowly reached for the car door, patting around blindly until he found the handle. Jungkook tried again. "I just mean, you'll be safe walking up alone, right?"

Jimin's fingers gripped the handle tightly, ready to jump out and flee from this situation, get far away from Jungkook, and get back to the safe confines of his room as quickly as possible. But Jungkook's big, round eyes and gentle frown tugging on his lips almost made Jimin feel guilty for mentally accusing him of being anything other than nice.

"Yeah," Jimin said, releasing a long breath of air that he had been holding in his chest. "I'll be fine. Thanks for the ride. I know this is not something you planned, but I appreciate it."

The frown on Jungkook's lips quickly melted away and was replaced with a smile. His hands found their place back on the steering wheel. "It wasn't a problem. It's probably good for me to get more familiar with these roads, anyway."

Jimin pushed the handle until he heard the door click, all the sounds from the busy streets outside filtering into the tiny space between them. "It was nice meeting you, Jungkook."

"Yeah, you too. Hopefully, I'll see you around," Jungkook said as Jimin stepped outside.

Jimin didn't look back as he walked up to the building door, but from behind him, he could still hear the subtle hum of Jungkook's engine and noticed that he didn't hear the car pull away until after he had made it inside.

The apartment halls were quiet, not a single person littering in the entrance or the stairwell. A part of Jimin knew he should have expected he would end up coming home without his roommate. Taehyung had become too predictable in the last couple of months since his relationship with Seokjin grew more serious, but still, walking into the blackness that waited for him on the other side of their front door felt strange.

He kicked off his shoes and flicked the hall light on, glancing at the table of empty glasses left behind from Taehyung's pre-game preparations, the cherry chapstick he had tried to convince Jimin to wear, and tissues he had used to smudge away the excessive eyeliner he had attempted to apply. All things that quietly reminded Jimin he wished Taehyung would have kept his promise, just this once.

Instead of cleaning anything, Jimin headed straight to his bedroom, running his fingers through his hair and breaking up the leftover hairspray that had cemented it from his forehead.

Although he barely left the table the entire night, Jimin felt utterly drained. Maybe it had been too soon to try socializing again, or perhaps socializing would never feel normal for him again. Ever since the hospital, it was strange to be around other people, to be in crowds. It felt more like he was watching other people in a movie than physically being there himself.

Even in the loneliness of the empty apartment, his bed still looked inviting. The covers were hastily thrown where he left them this morning, leaving the perfect space for Jimin to crawl into. The thought of having to shower or wash his face was too overwhelming to deal with tonight. He just wanted to sleep away the taste of vodka and the smell of Jungkook's cologne. He shed his clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor by the foot of his bed, deciding that his underwear was sufficient pajamas. It's not like anyone would be around to see him, anyway.

He collapsed onto the bed and reached for his phone. Pulling up Taehyung's contact, he typed out a text.

JIMIN: [1:48 am]

I'm home.

He wasn't even sure why he felt the need to check in with Taehyung and let him know he was safe. It wasn’t like Taehyung would check his phone soon, anyway.

Jimin lazily reached for the covers, scrunched up between his bed and the wall, and tugged them over himself. The grime from the bar mixed with the face powder caked onto his skin and smeared against his pillow as he rolled over onto his side. He knew he should be ashamed. He was disgusting and lazy, and even the thought of taking the simplest steps for his personal hygiene seemed like too much.

He must be broken. Jimin knew he was. But he was still here, breathing into the scratchy fibers of his cheap pillowcase, listening to the electric fan oscillate in the corner of his room. He was still alive. And that was still something, right?

Because as hard as the last month had been, he didn't want to return to that dark place he had been in. He didn’t want to feel that way ever again. He wanted to move on, he wanted to have a life. He wanted to be normal like Taehyung, Hoseok and Seokjin. He wanted to make progress, as hard as that was to admit.

Tonight was hard, but at least he had gone through with it. He had made Taehyung happy, seeing Hoseok again was nice, and even meeting Jungkook wasn't as horrible as it could have been—something he could mark as an accomplishment. And if he could survive this, he could try other things too.

He could worry about that another day. Right now, Jimin just wanted to sleep.

Jimin gathered the last empty glass from his final table of the evening, placing it onto the tray he was carefully balancing on his arm. Amber rays from the setting sun peeked through the window shutters and reflected off the crystal, creating sparkly orbs of light across the white tablecloth.

The hair that was once neatly tucked into place had now fallen across his forehead, slightly obstructing his vision as he leaned over the table. The day had gone by at a steady pace, long but busy, for which Jimin was grateful.

Staying busy meant less interaction with his coworkers, especially Yoongi, who had just clocked in for the evening about an hour ago. Jimin should have been gone by now, but his last table of disgruntled middle-aged businessmen didn't seem to care that they were extending his shift, leaving behind barely an adequate tip for his patience. Assholes.

With a tilt of his head, Jimin shook his overgrown fringe out of this field of vision, balancing his tray of silverware and dishes in his arms before weaving through the tables of the dimly lit dining room.

Jimin pushed through the swinging door to the kitchen using his back before turning and setting the tray on top of an open countertop. He grabbed the necks of the crystal glasses between his fingers to return them to the bar. The kitchen always had a jostling atmosphere compared to the quiet dining room, with orders being shouted back and forth among the cooks and the constant heavy humidity that hung around from the combination of dishwashing and sizzling skillets.

On his way to the bar, Jimin noticed a busboy carrying a tub full of dishes towards the sink. "Shinwoo,'' Jimin called to get his attention. The younger man smiled at him as he approached. The collar of his white shirt was slightly crooked from being improperly buttoned, and water splashed across his chest from the sinks.

"Is Seojun still here?" Jimin asked, hopeful. "Can he cash me out real quick?"

Shinwoo shook his head, the smile never leaving his face. "No, but Yoongi is at the back computer. If you want to just leave those glasses here, I can take care of them so you can get out of here."

Jimin chewed on the inside of his cheek, glancing down at the empty wine glasses still clutched between his fingers, then shook his head. "I can take them, thank you." Shinwoo bowed his head politely, wishing Jimin a good evening before walking past him.

Jimin stood frozen on the tile floor, watching the chaos of the kitchen continue around him. This was it. He knew running into Yoongi was inevitable. It had to be if Jimin wanted to move on, move forward. But somehow, it still felt like it was too soon.

It had been five weeks since they had spoken, aside from the texts he had received from Yoongi that were left unread in his phone. And Jimin had wanted to talk to Yoongi, he wanted to talk about everything that had happened. He just wanted to do it on his own time when he was ready for it. And passing each other during shift change didn't feel like an appropriate time.

Jimin had played out different scenarios of how he would broach the topic. How he would finally explain to someone what he had been dealing with and why he had wanted it to all be over. Yoongi had always been a safe person for Jimin. Someone patient, wise beyond his years, and would never judge Jimin for anything he felt or did, no matter how ridiculous. Jimin thought about Yoongi every day, the guilty pit in his stomach growing deeper each time.

By now, Yoongi had to be furious with him. He had been completely ghosted and left with unanswered questions after Jimin had betrayed his trust and lied to him. Yoongi didn't deserve that.

Jimin rolled his head around his shoulders to stretch his neck, taking a couple deep breaths before heading to the bar to return the glasses. The walk from the kitchen to the bar felt like it would buy him more time, give him a second to think of a good way to approach Yoongi, but it wasn't enough. As soon as Jimin turned his head in the direction of the register Yoongi was already there.

Yoongi had his head down, quietly running through the transactions on the computer monitor as usual. He looked the same as always, shaggy black hair swept across his forehead, face expressionless, concentrating on his work. Jimin felt his heart pound in his chest, racing so fast that the sound of blood rushing in his ears drowned out the clatter of silverware from the dining room.

By some miracle, Jimin's legs carried him closer, using every ounce of willpower he possessed. His throat became too dry to swallow when he finally approached him, and he feared he wouldn't be able to speak. Yoongi finally looked up when his shadow appeared across the keyboard.

"Jimin," Yoongi said softly, and Jimin froze. Yoongi’s face was still expressionless, but Jimin could feel the concern in his voice. "Are you okay? Why haven't you answered any of my messages? I—"

"I need to be cashed out," Jimin interrupted him, unable to meet his eyes, his vision focusing on the glossy badge labeled 'Assistant Manager' pinned to Yoongi's shirt.

Yoongi's brows lifted for a second before dropping back down, his gaze narrowing, and even without directly looking at his face, Jimin could see the hurt in his expression.

"Fine," Yoongi said, steady and calm, the exact opposite of how Jimin felt. Jimin always envied the way his older friend could stay so poised in situations like this. Jimin attempted to copy Yoongi's neutral presence, but his body betrayed him. His fingers trembled as he handed over his receipts.

He felt so weak. So incapable. Like he was still stuck where he was all those weeks ago and any progress he thought he had made was just another lie he had been telling himself.

It only took Yoongi a minute to sort through the receipts, quickly counting out cash from the register to hand over. Yoongi opened his mouth like he was going to say something else when they were interrupted by another server, alerting Yoongi about a customer complaint. Jimin snuck away, feeling more ashamed than he did when he had taken the Percocet from Yoongi's medicine cabinet.

The knot in his stomach did not easily fade. Seeing Yoongi was painful. The never-ending guilt that ate through his body like a cancer throbbed in Jimin's consciousness. Aside from everything, Jimin missed Yoongi.

Jimin didn't have any close friends or relationships outside of Taehyung and Yoongi. The anxiety of cutting them out of his own life weighed heavy on him. He couldn't decide what was worse. Losing a friend or having to open up about the truth.

Jimin shook the thoughts from his head, pushing out the back door and into the empty alley behind the restaurant. He needed a distraction.

"I'm glad you came, Jiminnie," Taehyung said enthusiastically, bumping his shoulder affectionately against Jimin's.

Jimin forced a smile, head down, watching their feet as they walked down the unfamiliar hall. It had been a last-minute decision to join Taehyung and Seokjin in helping Jungkook with his new apartment. Usually, Jimin would decline an invitation like that, but he was still working on getting out more and improving. And the hollow look in Yoongi's eyes was hard to shake from his memory.

Besides, the idea of seeing Jungkook again didn't bother him much, either. He was still a stranger, but surrounding himself with others gave Jimin the illusion that he wasn't so sad and lonely. It made him feel busy, distracted. Taehyung had also promised that Seokjin would supply plenty of beer for the evening, which might have helped sweeten the deal.

Jungkook's apartment was only a twenty-minute bus ride from their own, but the neighborhood felt completely different. His complex was much taller and surrounded by preferable businesses as opposed to the liquor stores and cigarette outlets that Jimin was more familiar with. Jungkook's building was nice—each unit had a balcony, elevators, and even a private parking garage.

"What did you say he does for a living again?" Jimin asked as they made their way further down the corridor. Wreaths and welcome mats decorated the hall doors, and some even looked handmade. It looked like families lived here and not college dropouts like himself. Even the carpet lining the hall was neat and clean, no stray clumps of mud or tossed cigarette butts.

"He’s a photographer," Taehyung said while checking his phone for the address information Seokjin had sent. "He was working in Los Angeles with some film company. At least, that’s what Seokjin told me."

Seokjin opened the door for them when they finally arrived and joked that the party could begin, greeting Taehyung with a kiss on the cheek, his arm draping over his shoulder and guiding him inside. Jimin quietly followed behind them.

The ceilings were tall, Jimin noticed immediately. Looking around, there was a noticeable lack of furniture. The living room only consisted of a television sitting on the floor, surrounded by extension cords and other equipment. The rest of the space was littered with unopened boxes. Folding chairs were scattered around a card table, making it the only place to sit in the otherwise vacant room. There were open boxes of pizza with several slices already missing left on the table, surrounded by beer bottles.

A tingle of unease wiggled into Jimin's chest as he surveyed the work left to do—Jungkook could not seriously expect the four of them to finish all this tonight. Jimin unwisely forgot to ask what exactly he was signing up for, and maybe this wasn't the right kind of distraction. A list of excuses to leave early started forming in his mind.

"Is Hoseok coming?" Taehyung asked.

"No, he’s working," Seokjin said and opened a bottle of beer for Taehyung. "Do you want one, Jimin?" he asked, and Jimin couldn't answer yes fast enough.

As Seokjin popped the lid of the bottle, Jimin noticed movement out of the corner of his eye, and he turned his head to see Jungkook approaching them with a broad smile plastered across his lips. He looked much more relaxed than Jimin remembered, wearing a pair of baggy sweats and a long-sleeved shirt that practically swallowed him.

His dark, messy hair was pulled haphazardly up into a tiny bun resting on the crown of his head, pieces of his fringe dangling around his face. Jimin noticed a glisten to his skin like he was sweating from whatever project he was working on.

"Hey," he greeted them. "Thanks for coming."

"No problem, I couldn't think of a better way to spend my Saturday night," Taehyung teased, lifting his beer in Jungkook's direction. "Congrats on the new place, by the way."

Jungkook laughed, moving closer to the card table to take a bottle for himself. "Thanks. I'm pretty excited to be back in Seoul." His eyes locked with Jimin's, smiling like he knew something Jimin didn't. Jimin awkwardly returned the smile, unable to hold eye contact for long. He glanced away and took a long swig of beer.

"You should give these two a tour, Jungkook, and their list of chores for the evening," Seokjin said, and Jungkook laughed again, his face pinching together and lips parting to expose white teeth. His laugh was cute and high-pitched, cracking almost childishly, contrasting his masculine appearance. 

"Don't worry," Seokjin continued, turning his attention to Jimin and Taehyung. "He promised to tip us very well."

Jungkook and Taehyung laughed, and Jimin tried to join in, forcing the sound of his throat. As much as Jimin wanted to be distracted and move on from the heavy emotions swimming in his mind, he still felt out of place here, even with Taehyung.

But he promised himself he would try.

"I honestly can do most of this stuff on my own, but I'm happy to show you guys around." Jungkook nodded towards the kitchen, inviting them to follow him. Jungkook briefly walked the two of them through his apartment, with Seokjin following behind, providing commentary on everything Jungkook shared. Jimin again found himself impressed with the space—the apartment had a large kitchen with plenty of counter space, new stainless appliances, and even a laundry room.

"Oh, do you have a roommate?" Jimin asked when he noticed a second bedroom.

"Huh? Oh.'' Jungkook's large eye shifted from Jimin to the dark room across the hall, moving forward to find the light switch. The overhead light illuminated the few boxes scattered across the floor, accompanied by a single desk and a wide-screen monitor. "No, I'm going to use this room for work."

Jimin followed Jungkook into the room, exploring the equipment that was already unpacked. There were lights, speakers, tripods, and other things Jimin didn't recognize. "It looks like you're trying to start a YouTube channel."

Jungkook chuckled and picked up a camera from his desk. "I'm never really the subject of my work, but I can't say I've never thought about it before."

Jimin watched closely as Jungkook cradled the camera, long fingers carefully easing the lens cap off. He noticed the tattoo on his hand again, his eyes following down to where the baggy sleeve of his shirt exposed the upper part of his forearm. Dark ink covered his skin. "Taehyung told me you’re a photographer."

Jungkook nodded, his attention still fixed on the camera. "I've had a handful of random gigs here and there, but I just signed a contract with an advertising company. That's what brought me to Seoul."

"It must have been a tough decision, leaving America," Jimin said quietly, finding a pile of small prints stacked on the desk. His curiosity drew him closer to examine the photographs. The top one depicted palm trees and a blue sky. "I've heard it's beautiful there."

A sudden flash of light startled him; he tilted his head up to find the camera aimed at him. Stunned into silence, Jimin just stared back at the other man. Had he just taken a photo of him?

"Not really," Jungkook said casually, as if taking pictures of strangers without their permission was normal. "There are no seasons in LA."

A vibration in Jimin's back pocket drew his attention. He pulled his phone from his pocket, and just one glance at the notification sent his heart plummeting into his stomach.

[Yoongi 20:32]

Jimin, I miss talking to you.

Yoongi stopped texting Jimin two weeks ago after finally taking the hint that Jimin had no plans to answer him anytime soon. Their encounter tonight probably provoked him to reach out again. Fuck, and just when Jimin thought he could stop thinking about Yoongi for at least the rest of the night.

Jimin read the small text on his phone screen over again. He knew he needed to say something. He didn't want to spend the rest of his life afraid whenever he thought of Yoongi, avoiding him indefinitely. 

"Everything okay?" Jungkook asked, and Jimin jerked his head up at him, then scanned the rest of the room, noticing they were alone. Taehyung and Seokjin must have found something else to entertain themselves with.

"Oh yeah. It's just work," Jimin lied, shoving his phone back into his pocket, ignoring the text. "Do you need help setting up the rest of this stuff?"

Jungkook sat the camera back down. He crossed the room and patted the top of an unopened cardboard box. "I could use some help to assemble this desk chair, if you don't mind."

Jimin nodded, happy for something to keep his mind busy. The pair kneeled on the carpeted floor and unboxed the new computer chair. Jimin carefully removed plastic and styrofoam from the individual pieces while Jungkook read through the directions, sorting out each piece according to the correct step listed on the paper.

Working with Jungkook was pleasant. They fell into a comfortable silence, only speaking when clarifying instructions to each other. It was nice—there was no obligation to keep a conversation flowing and entertaining, like how Jimin felt with his customers and coworkers. They were simply working.

Halfway through their assembly process, Jungkook paused to stretch, groaning as he unfolded his legs after sitting on his knees for so long. "I think we need some music or something," he suggested, standing up and pushing an open box in Jimin's direction. "Here, pick something."

Jimin peered into the box and was surprised to find it filled with vinyl sleeves. Confused, Jimin reached into one, causing the black record nested inside to slip halfway out.

"Careful," Jungkook warned as Jimin pushed the vinyl back into place and turned it over to look at the cover.

"What are these?" Jimin asked curiously.

Jungkook snickered, a smile growing on his face. "Part of my music collection. Haven't you ever seen a record before?"

Jimin looked back into the box and used his fingertips to flip through the other records. "Only in movies." His eyes caught something colorful, and he pulled out the record. "I think I know them."

"That's good. I don't know if I would want to keep talking to you if you didn't like the Rolling Stones," Jungkook said playfully, taking the record from Jimin. "I'll put it on for you."

Something about the way Jungkook worded that comment warmed Jimin up a little. Jungkook was excited to share his music with him, and it was endearing. Jimin watched patiently from the floor as Jungkook moved to a record player hidden in the corner.

It was fascinating. Jimin didn't know anyone who collected vinyl, let alone actually played them for fun.

The soft crackle of the needle finding its place in the grooves of the record fills the quiet room, followed by the loud rumbling of piano keys. Jimin buried a laugh behind his hand as Jungkook quickly fumbled with the device to turn down the volume. "Sorry, I get carried away sometimes."

"Do you seriously not have a Spotify account?" Jimin asked.

Jungkook rolled his eyes and returned to his spot next to Jimin to resume his work on the chair. "Of course I do, but what's the fun in that?"

The two of them easily fell back into their efficient working pattern, this time with a better soundtrack.

After successfully assembling the chair and organizing a few other things in the spare bedroom, the two of them rejoined Taehyung and Seokjin in the living room to finish the rest of the pizza.

"When is your couch supposed to be delivered again?" Seokjin asked with a dramatic sigh from the floor, stretching his legs out in front of him. "I'm not visiting anymore until you give me a proper place to sit." Jungkook just rolled his eyes, occupying one of the few folding chairs he had available.

"You can sit on my lap if you would like,'' Taehyung suggested, uncrossing his legs and raising his eyebrow at Seokjin, inciting a laugh from an older man and groans from Jungkook and Jimin.

"Actually, I might head out if you want to take my chair," Jimin said, unfolding his legs and discarding his empty plate on the card table.

Taehyung turned to Jimin. "Really? Already?"

"Normally, I wouldn't mind hanging out, but I'm exhausted from work," Jimin said. It wasn't a lie, but work wasn't the only thing draining him. Most things exhausted Jimin recently. Although he enjoyed the company of his friends tonight and helping Jungkook, his tolerance for socializing had been spent. The text from Yoongi still made his phone feel like a heavy weight in his back pocket.

"Do you work at a dance studio or something?" Jungkook asked suddenly, eyes wide and interested. Jimin just looked back at him, head tilting with confusion.

Why would Jungkook think that?

The sound of Seokjin's laughter broke the silence. "Dance studio?"

Jimin knew Seokjin didn't mean any harm by the comment, but it didn't stop Jimin from feeling small. The idea of him being a professional dancer was a joke.

"What? Taehyung told me he was a dancer," Jungkook said sincerely, then shrugged in Jimin's direction. "Sorry, I just assumed."

Jimin shook his head, averting his eyes. "I used to be a dancer a long time ago. I uh—work at a restaurant now." The confession made him feel even smaller, embarrassed to admit he waits tables in front of someone as accomplished as Jungkook.

"Which one?" Jungkook asked.

"Benoit's Steakhouse," Jimin mumbled quietly. "It's French."

"Ah, I'll have to check it out sometime. I need to find good places to eat around here," Jungkook said.

"Are you okay going home by yourself?" Taehyung asked. "I don't mind finding a ride for the both of us."

"I can take you home," Jungkook offered, and Jimin's eyes widened in surprise. Was he seriously willing to add a forty-minute round trip to his evening?

Jimin shook his head. "No—don’t worry, it's fine. I'm capable of finding my own way home."

"I don't mind, really. It's not a far drive." Jungkook said without breaking eye contact.

"That's sweet of you, Jungkook, but I'm fine," Jimin insisted, trying to put an end to the discussion. The offer flattered him, and it was tempting, but the thought of having Jungkook drive him home for a second time felt strange. Jungkook should stay at this new apartment and finish his projects with Taehyung and Seokjin. They would be fine without Jimin's help.

"Please text me when you get home, Jiminnie," Taehyung said, sitting up straighter in his chair and flashing Jimin that 'concerned sibling' look—one he used on Jimin too often.

"Of course." Jimin smiled at his friend before moving off the chair, reaching his arms over his head and stretching his stiff back and shoulders.

"I'll walk you out," Jungkook offered, standing up before Jimin could protest.

Jungkook opened the door as Jimin stepped into his shoes, double-checking for his keys before walking out into the hallway, followed close behind by Jungkook.

"I remember where the exit is, you know," Jimin said, feeling Jungkook's shadow draping over him.

"I assumed, but I didn't want you to wait for a ride alone. It's late." Jungkook said. Jimin kept his eyes on the ground but a gentle flutter of confort rose in his stomach. Jungkook was actually pretty nice.

"Thanks," Jimin said, turning his head to catch a shy glimpse at Jungkook, “that's really kind of you.”

"It’s my pleasure," Jungkook said, with a handsome smile as the elevator doors closed behind him. For the first time, Jimin realized how much taller Jungkook was. His broad shoulders were apparent, even beneath the oversized shirt covering them. His stare was intense, even coming from such soft eyes. 

Jimin's eyes darted away quickly, feeling suddenly embarrassed.

"Thank you for coming over," Jungkook said, changing the subject. "I know it was probably weird helping someone you just met build furniture, but I appreciate it."

Jimin's eyes flickered up at him again, the space around them feeling crowded. "Don't worry about it. Being out of the house tonight was nice. I needed a change of scenery."

Jungkook smiled. "You're welcome to come over any time and help me."

Jimin's lips pulled into a grin. "Yeah? Maybe I will."

The apartment felt quieter than usual. Jimin dropped his keys on the kitchen table and made his way to their single bathroom. The pajamas he had changed out of this morning were still draped over the edge of the tub.

Jimin paused for a moment to take in his appearance in the mirror. His eyes were dry and irritated from a long day of wearing his contacts, and his hair was a mess. He sighed and opened the cabinet to get the case for his contacts and removed them before quickly rinsing his face under the sink.

He actually decided to pick out a clean pair of pajamas tonight as he moved to his bedroom and caught himself humming the melody of the Rolling Stones song Jungkook had played for him as he changed out of his clothes.

Lying in bed, Jimin felt a strange mix between exhaustion and restlessness. His body was tired from work, and his mind was exhausted from socializing. Most days, any amount of socializing wore on him, although he did enjoy his evening with Taehyung, Seokjin, and Jungkook. Even though Jungkook felt like a stranger, Jimin had not felt pressured to put up a front or disguise the fact that he wasn't in the mood to be overly outgoing. Jungkook seemed to enjoy sitting quietly and listening to music with someone he didn't know. It was nice.

Staring at the bright screen of his phone in his hand, Jimin opened and closed several apps while waiting for his exhaustion to take over and send him to sleep. Eventually, he opened his messages, the text from Yoongi still waiting at the top, unanswered.

Jimin, I miss talking to you.

Jimin read the words over and over again in his mind. How could he reply to that? Jimin's throat tightened until swallowing felt almost painful.

'I miss you too' is what Jimin wanted to tell Yoongi. He wanted to tell him he missed having someone else to talk to, missed the way Yoongi would always listen so attentively to him and offer genuine advice. Yoongi wasn't affectionate by any means, but Jimin could always feel how deeply Yoongi cared for him.

Jimin's last memory of spending time together was blurry, but he still remembers how Yoongi smiled at him one final time when he had excused himself to wash up in the bathroom.

Jimin shut his eyes tightly, trying to push the memory out of his mind. When his eyes finally opened, he stared back at the conversation on his phone, his thumb hovering over the screen. Jimin exhaled. Then his thumb swiped over the glass, deleting the conversation.

Two steps forward. One step back.