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“Come in,” said Seokjin.
Taehyung had butterflies in his stomach as he gingerly entered the room. He hoped he’d made the right decision. But he needed to get rid of the memories of him hurting, and somehow he convinced himself that this would be the ideal way to do it. By subjecting himself to more pain. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be as bad as he imagined it would be.
“Take off your shirt,” instructed Seokjin and went to prepare himself.
Taehyung stared at the tiny bed, which looked uncomfortable. Jimin, his bestie, had assured him it would be fine once he got rid of his initial fear. He stared at the Vaseline jar which was supposedly there to help him. Would it be enough, he thought to himself.
He lay face down on the bed, and felt the skin on his back turn moist. The jitters began when Seokjin traced his fingers across his shoulder blades, and glided down in measured movements. He paused for a moment, and stared at the work of art glistening under the light.
“Are you sure about this,” he asked Taehyung. He knew that many people plunged in, only to have a moment of regret later, and go through hell to undo this mistake. “There is still time to renege, and I will not hold it against you.”
Taehyung had made up his mind a week before, when Jimin told him about Seokjin, the miracle worker. His power to fill hearts with joy, minds with confidence, and souls with new vigor was legendary.
“You will soar, again, mark my words,” Jimin had promised.
“Soar, or get sore?” questioned Taehyung.
“No pain, no gain,” replied Jimin, and flashed a cheeky grin.
As Taehyung made his way to Seokjin’s, he thought about the ramifications of this. Would the people he loved the most understand why he did this? It could well look like he was trying to be a brash, new guy who didn’t care how he was perceived. But deep down he knew that he still wanted to be loved and accepted.
“So, why are doing this?” asked Seokjin.
“I need to fly again,” replied Taehyung.
“I shouldn’t be saying this, but this is just a mirage, you don’t really need me to sprout wings. It comes from just loving and accepting yourself. And not letting your self-worth be determined by another person’s love for you, or the lack of it.”
“But he made me want to disappear,” whispered Taehyung. “Now, I will rest assured that even if I fall, I’ll be rescued by the gift you bestow on me tonight.”
“It’s technically not a gift, you’re--,” began Seokjin, and Taehyung gestured him to stop.
“Seokjin, I’ve a weird request. Can you explain what you’re doing as you do it, so I know what’s coming?”
Seokjin had had many weird requests, but this took the cake.
“If you insist,” he replied. “Okay, take a deep breath. The key is to relaxing.”
“You know the petroleum jelly is here to ease the pain, right,” he asked Taehyung who nodded a yes, as he began applying it gently.
“The first minute will be rough, as it is your first time. But your body will get used to the pain. When I work on you, and get under your skin, I need you to feel my rhythm, and go with the flow.”
Taehyung understood why Seokjin was considered a master; his words had a truly calming effect on him.
“Before I begin, I just wanted to confirm that everything you told me is true,” said Seokjin.
“Sure,” said Taehyung.
“So, you’ve completed your enlistment duties already, right?”
“Yes, in 2014.”
“What do you do for a living,” asked Seokjin.
“I work as a back-up dancer for an idol group. I cannot mention which one, for privacy reasons,” claimed Taehyung.
Seokjin was suddenly reminded of the scoop he's read of an idol who faced a dating scandal, and was rumored to have been in a relationship with one of his crew members. The agency had intervened, and the idol in question had recently started conscription, which lead to the matter cooling down gradually.
“Good,” said Seokjin as he proceeded to do the line design of the elaborate angel wings tattoo he’d traced on Taehyung’s shoulders.
Taehyung moaned in pain as Seokjin worked on customer number three for the day at Studio Nabi.
He stared at the porcelain skin, and pitied that it would now carry the scar of his handiwork forever.