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The stars are higher up than they should be.
If Jungkook raises a hand, reaching out towards them - they look impossibly far away. Microscopic lights in the distance, shining for worlds that he'll never be a part of.
"Where are we?" he wonders, not for the first time. He doesn't expect an answer, he doesn't even want one. If there's one thing he's learned it's that it doesn't matter where he is.
"Who knows," Jimin says. They've had this conversation before. Jimin doesn't look at the sky, he's starting out at the building in the distance. It looks desolate from here, completely unlike what it really is - vibrant and colourless. Forever and constantly changing.
He doesn't remember ever meeting Jimin. He's not sure how they know each other's names.
Jimin raises his camera, watching the scene through the lens. There isn't much to see today that's different from every other day. He focuses the lens and keeps staring, finger hovering over the capture button.
Jungkook can't say when they met but he sees him every day, and he knows that Jimin has never pressed the shutter.
"What are you waiting for?" He asks him once.
"Sorry?" Jimin says.
"Are you waiting for the perfect photo?"
Jimin seems startled for a moment. Then he laughs. It's pleasant and kind - things that Jungkook isn't used to - not in this place where the stars are too far, and certainly not where he lives the rest of his life.
"I'm not waiting for anything," he says. "I don't want a picture."
"Then what's the camera for?"
Jimin shrugs. "It lets me see things."
Jungkook doesn't quite understand, so he drops it.
Jimin dresses the same every day, in white white clothes that make him look like he ran out of a hospital. Jungkook's own clothes are worn, dirty. He hasn't done his laundry in a while. He can't bring himself to.
He kicks his sneakers together, marvelling at the dirt stuck to the soles. The soil here is a light brown, not half as dark as that of his home town. He absently wipes his sneakers against the grass, for no real reason.
The next day the dirt will be gone and no traces will be left.
/
"You okay?" Taehyung asks, for maybe the fifth time today.
A lot of Jungkook's life is repetition. It just goes on and on and over and over, and nothing really changes.
"I'm okay," he says, like he said the other four times. Like he's said every day before this.
Except the days he missed in between.
"You look tired," Taehyung says. He presses a hand against Jungkook's forehead and his hands are so warm. So comforting. Sometimes Jungkook wishes that Taehyung could really be his friend, could be more than the kid-who-lives-in-the-room-next-door. His hands are warm and his heart is too kind, and they're sitting across from each other on the floor eating takeout because Taehyung hasn't seen him in a while.
"It doesn't feel like you're sick," Taehyung says, taking his hand away. It's cold again.
"I'm not sick," Jungkook mumbles. "Just tired."
"You're always tired these days."
"Yeah."
Taehyung frowns, but he doesn't press. There are still walls between them that they haven't crossed yet. So Taehyung doesn't press him when he doesn't answer questions and Jungkook doesn't ask him where he goes so many nights.
They aren't friends, but they work.
The food is piping hot - spicy and homely and so good to eat. It's unlike the meals Jungkook has by himself, cold and practically pudding-like because he never bothers to heat it up.
It feels good in his stomach. It makes him feel a little bit. He wonders if it's bad that one of the only emotions he can put a name to anymore is not hungry.
"This is really good," he says, looking at the food.
Taehyung gives him a smile, and it's a little bit sad. Most of Taehyung's smiles are a little bit sad. "That's good," he says. "Want some more?"
Jungkook eyes the takeout box in front of them. There's a lot of food left, definitely enough for them to eat a whole lot more. But he shakes his head.
Taehyung doesn't push him.
/
"Is it a different planet?" He asks Jimin, kicking at the ground. They're inside the building this time, both of them pressed up against the window to see how far the stars are today. They look further than they did the last time they were here, but that doesn't make sense.
A lot of Jungkook's life doesn't really make sense.
Jimin sighs. "I don't know, Jungkookie. I only know as much as you do."
Which is - a complete lie. Jimin seems to have lived in this realm for his entire life. He doesn't have pauses in between, he never goes back.
It was him who explained a lot of the weirdness around Jungkook - like the fact that the doors never lead to the same place every day. That pathways are created and destroyed as they move along. That Hoseok can't see them when they watch him dance but that they can still see him.
He wonders if Hoseok will be there today.
The building they're in looks exactly how a building would look if every bit of it was built at the spur of the moment. Some parts of it - like the carpet under Jungkook's feet, are ancient and falling apart. The carpet has faded and the strings are starting to pull out leaving ugly bald spots in some places. But then some parts of it look like they've been made today. The wall is freshly painted. There are no cobwebs on the windows.
As they speak, one of the lights on the wall slides across, turns the corner, and disappears.
"I liked that light," Jimin says, mildly put out.
"The wall didn't," Jungkook decides. Who the hell knows what happens here.
And then, almost like he's read Jungkook's mind, Jimin asks, "You want to go see Hoseok?"
It doesn't take them long to find their way to the dance studio. Jimin always seems to know the way even though he admits he doesn't - he takes turns at random and they get wherever they need to go.
Jungkook suspects that all the corridors lead into each other. That you can't get lost here without getting somewhere at least.
Hoseok is inside already, dancing across the floor, each movement so precise and so intense that Jungkook still can't be sure that he's real. The music doesn't make its way out of the room - it's like watching a silent movie.
They stand there, faces against the glass. Jimin fiddles with his camera but doesn't pull it up. They wait for the dance to end, for Hoseok to pause to take a short breath, and then Jimin pushes the door open.
"Hey hyung," he says.
Hoseok grins at them. He's panting and tired but he grins, like he's glad to see them.
Like Jungkook is welcome here after all.
/
"I haven't seen you in days," Taehyung says, like that's something new. He sounds a bit upset. A bit accusing.
"I haven't seen you either," Jungkook points out.
Taehyung scowls at him. "Funny."
It actually is.
"Do you even go to any of your classes?" Taehyung asks, and - it pisses Jungkook off a bit. That Taehyung thinks he can barge into Jungkook's room like this and judge him for not doing things. For not trying to live like everyone else.
There's no need, really. They're all the same people, doing the same things. The world is going to go in the same direction whether Jungkook is here or not. He doesn't need to live his life, someone else will live it for him.
"Some of them," he says.
"If you keep this up they'll make you repeat the year."
Jungkook finds that even funnier.
Taehyung sighs, sitting at the edge of Jungkook's bed. It's unmade, still a mess from where Jungkook has been sleeping for -
How long was it this time? A day, two, three?
He's still so tired.
Taehyung is looking around the room with judging eyes, frowning slightly. Jungkook's room reeks of laundry. He hasn't showered in a week. There are dirty dishes shoved under his bed because he can't find the soap to clean them with.
Taehyung looks like he wants to say a lot, but he doesn't. No one ever does. Saying something about it means they need to put a name to it, and no one is ready to do that.
"I can help you clean," Taehyung tries instead.
Jungkook is - touched. It's an emotion he thought he'd forgotten - but in that moment, it touches him, and all of his anger is forgotten and he wishes all over again that Taehyung cared enough to be his friend.
"It's okay," he says. Again and again. "I'm fine."
/
Yoongi is - he thinks Yoongi is a shadow.
They don't cross each other often. Yoongi drifts around the building in ways that Jungkook can't follow, too fast and too slow at the same time. It takes Jungkook a while to even catch sight of his face, hidden underneath a black hood and slinking into the shadows.
"Have you been here before?" Yoongi asks him, each time they meet. It's an odd question, because Jungkook knows that he remembers him. Jimin says so too.
"Yeah."
"Cool." And then he just keeps walking, leaving Jungkook to stumble after him. He never turns around to see if Jungkook is following or not.
Jungkook follows him anyway.
"Who are you?" he asks once, because he doesn't think Yoongi is normal. Doesn't think he's like Jungkook and Jimin and Hoseok. Or even like Taehyung. Yoongi is pale, all blacks and whites, and the world around him becomes a little bit less vivid as he walks by, like colours can't exist around him. Once he stands in a room for too long and a painting on the wall fades to white.
"Sorry?"
"Who are you?"
Yoongi stops, turns around, eyes wide. "You don't know my name?"
"No, I do, I'm just - "
Yoongi looks disappointed. "Oh. Well. Who are you?"
"…I'm Jungkook?"
Yoongi rolls his eyes. "I know. I mean where are you from? Who are you?"
"Busan," Jungkook says, though a part of him thinks Seoul. Seoul isn't a home. Busan wasn't either.
Yoongi tilts his head, confused. "Where?"
Jungkook pauses. Thinks about how far away the stars are. "Where are you from?" He asks instead.
Yoongi shrugs. "From a place that's been destroyed," he says. "It was never very pretty."
"Was it on earth?"
Yoongi's eyes widen. "An earth kid," he breathes. "That's a first."
Jungkook frowns. "Jimin lived in Busan," he says. He doesn't know where the heck Yoongi is from but Jimin - Jimin is from earth. He's sure of this.
"Jimin doesn't count," Yoongi says. "He's always been dead."
/
Jungkook thinks he's hungry.
He doesn't think much further than that.
He hasn't picked his phone up in a few days. His parents are the only ones who ever call, and they aren't the kind to panic if he doesn't respond. They assume he's studying. Or having a life. Or out with a girlfriend.
Like any of the above would ever happen.
The ceiling is so ugly.
It's not like the other world is pretty. Whatever it is, wherever it is. It's as messed up as the place Jungkook is in now, what with its twisted corridors and moving lights and stars that are always too far. It's messed up - but that world doesn't care if Jungkook is messed up. This one does.
In this one, if he doesn't go out of his room for three days people start to ask questions. In this one he's expected to stay alive and be good at it.
In that world - Jimin is dead.
There's no food left inside his room. There are empty wrappers and bugs that he can't identify feeding on what's left of them. A rotten banana in the corner that he'd forgotten about. He used to have an emergency supply of sugar under the bed for days like these but it's missing, lost in the dust and trash that's collected in the small space.
How long has it been this time? How many days has he missed out on?
Missed out makes it sound like he lost something. Jungkook hasn't lost anything. If anything, he got a few days of escape.
The ceiling is still ugly, so he turns over onto his front, pressing his face into his pillow. It's a bit suffocating. Outside it's bright, the sunlight making it's way through the cracks of the curtain. Just enough to let him know it's there, that today is another day, that he's expected to get up and function like a normal human being whether he wants to or not.
But he knows that there's a way out now, so he doesn't listen to the sun. He pushes his face deeper into his pillow and ignores the hunger eating through his stomach.
/
"How do we get here?" Jungkook asks Yoongi, since he seems to know even more than Jimin does.
Yoongi shrugs. The room they're in is dark - all rooms are once Yoongi enters them. They're sitting in the shadows, the windows bolted shut, while Yoongi traces patterns into the tiles with a finger and Jungkook watches them.
"Do you ever remember getting here?" Yoongi asks.
Jungkook thinks, and - he doesn't. He doesn't know how he got into this room. Or what he was thinking about before he asked the question. "No."
"It's the same for me. I'm just here. I never arrive."
"Do you go back?"
Yoongi gives him a dry look. "No where to go back to," he says, and it sounds like a fact. His home was destroyed, Jungkook remembers. He's lost now. "My home sucked anyway."
The patterns he traces are random, nothing that Jungkook can identify. The tiles seem to bend slightly as he moves his finger across, almost like water, but still undeniably solid.
"Why do you stay here?" Jungkook asks.
Yoongi raises an eyebrow at him. "Why do you?"
Jungkook hesitates. Yoongi stares through him, his eyes terrifyingly black - everything about him terrifyingly black. Nothing about this world is what Jungkook would want to dream of, nothing about it makes his wishes come true. It's just - here. Always. A place that isn't home but doesn't even have to be.
"To escape," Jungkook says. "I don't have anywhere else to go."
Yoongi's mouth twitches upward. It's a strange expression, half amused, half morbid. "I don't have anywhere else either," he agrees. "I come here to stay alive. We all do."
Jungkook frowns. "You said Jimin was dead," he points out. It's been eating at him for days now. He's seen Jimin over and over, still in the same clothes as always, smiling like the world is going to be okay. His soul too bright for someone who should be dead.
"He is," Yoongi says. "But he doesn't want to be, so he lives here instead. Hoseok is the same - he hides here so his species doesn't eat him alive. And you - " He gives Jungkook a knowing look, like he's seen right through his head and knows everything about his heart. "You want to stay alive too, don't you?"
Jungkook stares at him.
"We all do," Yoongi repeats, finally looking away. "You just have to find a place that doesn't kill you."
"So that's what this is, huh?" Jungkook asks, careful. A place that doesn't kill them.
Yoongi shakes his head. "That's what it is for us. For now."
/
"Jungkook," someone says.
The voice is so far away. Something tells him it's his name. Something tells him it might not be.
"Jungkook," the voice says again, still so far. It could be anywhere. He could be anywhere. It's dark and soft and safe and empty. He doesn't feel a thing.
"Jungkook," the voice says again, again, as if it's ever going to make a difference, as if saying it is somehow going to change something. He doesn't want to leave this place. He's safe here.
The voice doesn't stop, calling out different things, telling him words that he's never heard in his life. Words that mean nothing to him. He think he reaches out, into the darkness - but he doesn't touch anything. There's nothing there.
It makes him feel a bit better.
/
At first Jungkook thinks that Namjoon is dead.
He's sitting perfectly still in a chair, eyes closed, head dipped down. Jungkook thinks he's dead and he doesn't even panic, because apparently being dead around here is just something people do.
He takes the other chair, near the window, and watches the empty world outside. The room is pleasantly lit, a lightish orange. It's cosy and nice and nothing like Yoongi's rooms are. There are rows and rows of paintings on the wall, framed certificates, and even a few medals. A faded trophy sits at the windowsill Jungkook is at, and he wipes the dust off with a finger. There's no name on it.
He thinks he's met Namjoon before because he knows who he is without asking. But he can't remember meeting him.
They sit in the silence for what might be hours. Jimin passes by the door once, with his camera in hand. He grins at Jungkook and focuses it at him but doesn't click the shutter. Then he leaves as quietly as he came.
Finally, Namjoon wakes up. He blinks at the light. Blinks at Jungkook.
"Hello," he says, surprised.
"Hi," Jungkook says.
There's a pause, where introductions might have happened. They don't.
"Do you want some tea?" Namjoon asks instead, standing to make some. A tea kettle wanders in from the next room, dragging itself against the carpeted floor. Namjoon bends to pick it up. The stove just appears.
The tea sort of makes itself.
"I guess," Jungkook says, a full minute after Namjoon asks.
"How much sugar do you take?"
"I don't know. How much sugar goes in?"
Namjoon smiles at him and doesn't answer. He mixes the two cups with the same amount of sugar. The cups are ceramic and slightly chipped, like they've been here for ages. The tea was boiling when Namjoon poured the water in but when he hands the cup to Jungkook it's only warm.
It's warm and sugary and good, and suddenly - suddenly he remembers Taehyung. He remembers sitting curled up in his sad excuse for a room and eating good food because even though Taehyung wasn't his friend, he cared.
The thought is unwelcome and it shakes him. He holds his cup tighter with both hands and focuses on it harder.
Namjoon is watching him closely. "You don't live here, do you?"
Jungkook shakes his head. "I just come here awhile."
"Me too," Namjoon says. He sounds a bit wistful, a bit resigned. "I wish I could stay forever, but some of us have other lives."
"Where are you from?"
Namjoon shrugs. "Not anywhere you might have heard of. You - you're from earth, right?"
"Yeah."
"Not anywhere you might have heard of. I'm from a small place. Not important to anyone but us." He takes a long, long sip of his tea, and then he gives Jungkook a lopsided smile. "I'm the President."
"...sorry?"
"That's why I can't hang out here forever - they expect me back there. Someone has to keep everyone from killing each other." Another long sip, and his tea cup is almost empty. He gives it a sad look. "You'd think it would be easier to ask people to care."
Jungkook frowns. There's nothing easy about asking people to care - by default no one cares. It means a higher chance of survival for everyone but themselves.
Namjoon glances out the window, at the stars that look as far away as they were yesterday. "My time off is up," he says, frowning. "I should be going. It was nice talking to you, Jungkook."
Jungkook starts. He wants to talk more, but Namjoon is already leaving, his colours fading into the background, as if he was never there.
It was nice talking to you.
/
"I'm moving in," Taehyung says, and he sounds almost angry.
Jungkook blinks, vision still a bit bleary. His head is fuzzy and there's an ache at his temple, and nothing that's happening right now makes sense.
The room is terribly silent, the way his room always is - with so little sound that his brain tries to make up a bit of it.
"What?" he tries to ask, but it comes out too hoarse.
"I said I'm moving in," Taehyung snaps. There's a backpack hung over his shoulder, packed haphazardly. He dumps in on the bed, next to Jungkook's feet. "You clearly can't live on your own."
Jungkook blinks again, rubbing at his eyes. His vision doesn't get any better. What was going on?
"I thought you were dead," Taehyung snaps. "I thought you were freaking dead, Jungkook, I had to call the warden to force your door open and you were freaking asleep. Dehydrated and starved and asleep. What the hell. Do you want to die?"
He's furious, and scared - he's actually worried. For the first time in Jungkook's life someone besides himself cares. But he can't understand it, can't think beyond the fuzz in his brain, the emptiness and darkness and how safe it is where no one can ever hurt him -
He doesn't want to die, he doesn't think.
He just doesn't want to be here.
/
The room they're in seems abandoned, which is odd because the entire building should seem like that.
There's an open box near one end, a kid's toy box. It's painted in ugly faded colours, once obscenely bright. Jimin is on his knees in front of it, rummaging around inside. Yoongi is next to him, watching him with no interest.
"I remember all this," Jimin is saying, pulling toys out at random. He doesn't look excited, just a bit surprised. He holds up a ratty teddy bear for Jungkook to see. "See? This guy used to be my best friend."
He holds its arms and moves one forward so that the teddy bear waves to Jungkook. Jungkook waves back.
He makes it wave at Yoongi, too. Yoongi stares it down.
"It's ugly," Yoongi deadpans, a bit unnecessarily.
"Yeah," Jimin agrees. "He was nice, though."
He goes back to digging through the box, occasionally pulling out a rubber ball or a box of puzzles or something that catches his fancy. Jungkook watches in fascination.
After a few minutes, Yoongi turns to him. "You weren't gone long," he says.
"Really?" Jungkook says.
"Really," Jimin agrees, not looking up. "I think I saw you this morning. Something happen back at home?"
Again, he remembers Taehyung - how scared he'd been, how upset. The thought unsettles him and he shakes it away.
"Nothing ever happens back at home," he says.
Jimin makes a noise of agreement and discovers a box of chess pieces. Yoongi gives him a hard look.
"What made all the nothing different this time?"
Jungkook shrugs again. He doesn't even know if anything did change - time here doesn't make sense to him. Time doesn't make sense to him in any world.
"You should probably go back," Yoongi says quietly.
Jungkook stops. Jimin freezes too.
"What?" Jungkook manages, and it comes out cracked.
"You've been here too long," Yoongi says. For the first time in all that Jungkook has known him he sounds worried. Final. "You're letting it get to you."
"I haven't," Jungkook insists, something like fear creeping into his chest. He's never been scared here before, that was the point. That was the entire point.
"You don't escape nothing," Yoongi says. "That's one thing you can't run from."
"You can't run from death either," Jimin says. He looks angrier than ever. "Do you see me here?"
Yoongi shakes his head. "Death doesn't follow you. But this?" he looks at Jungkook - looks at all of him, like all of him is a problem waiting to fall apart. "This follows you everywhere. This is all in your head. That's one thing even Seokjin can't scare away yet."
"Don't listen to him," Jimin says harshly, turning back to Jungkook. He looks honest. Desperate for Jungkook to trust him. "Don't listen to him, Jungkook - you're always safe here."
For the first time, the very first time - Jungkook wonders for just how much longer.
The darkness always catches up. Always.
/
"Nice to see you awake," Taehyung says. He doesn't sound very happy.
He's sitting at the end of Jungkook's bed, reading a book, like this is somehow his room after all. He doesn't say anything more as Jungkook pushes himself up, rubbing his face in his hands.
He's sweating. It's freaking December - he shouldn't be sweating. His hands come off filthy and disgusting - he really needs a shower.
He really needs a lot of things, but that doesn't mean he'll do them.
"You stink," Taehyung says politely.
"Thanks," Jungkook says.
Taehyung rummages through his bag for something, then tosses a carton at Jungkook's head. He misses, and it drops over to the floor. Neither of them pick it up. They keep staring at it like it might pick itself up.
"For god's sake," Taehyung mutters at last, and leans down to get it himself. He plops it on Jungkook's lap, a fire in his eyes. "Drink."
It's an energy drink of some sort. Jungkook is tired, exhausted, which he really shouldn't be because if he's sleeping for all this time -
Is he sleeping for all this time?
He doesn't know how it works. He's so tired.
"I'm taking you to a doctor," Taehyung says.
Jungkook stills. He looks at Taehyung and - for a second he doesn't feel like they ever really met. He can't remember. He looks at him and the anger seems familiar, like he's seen it in the other world.
Did they ever tell each other their names?
"Why?"
His voice is hoarse. He doesn't think he talks much.
"Why?" Taehyung repeats dryly. "Look at yourself. You need help."
"I don't need help."
Taehyung says nothing. He sets his book down and says nothing, just stares down at his hands, like something is terribly wrong.
"I don't need help," Jungkook repeats, a bit louder. Taehyung seems to flinch and he recoils immediately. "I'm sorry, I don't - I'm fine. I'm okay."
"You're too sad," Taehyung says quietly. "That's not okay."
"I just - I just need to sleep."
/
That night, he lies awake. The darkness refuses to take him. The clock ticks terribly loud.
/
He kicks Taehyung out of his room.
It isn't easy - it involves more anger and hatred than Jungkook has ever had to show. Taehyung is hurt, he's upset when he slams the door behind him, but all Jungkook can think is finally.
Finally, it's quiet again.
Finally, it's safe.
He switches off all the lights and sits alone in the dark, his pillow pressed against his face as if it will make things go away. His heart keeps beating and he wants it to stop. He wants to stop feeling things.
Why can't he go back anymore? Did Yoongi throw him out? Could Yoongi throw him out?
He needs to go back. Jungkook can't - can't stay here. He needs to go back.
He paces around his room, mad with exhaustion. He pulls at his hair, tries holding his breath. He closes his eyes and counts to nine hundred and forty five to try and force himself to sleep before he gives up and breaks into tears.
He needs to sleep. He needs to go away. He needs everything to stop.
Jimin was already dead. He pushed Taehyung away himself. The world outside expects him to be a functional human being and thinks that being sad is being messed up - but then, Jungkook is messed up. He hasn't left his room in weeks. He can't make eye contact with a stranger and can barely manage it with a friend. He doesn't have friends - he has a world where the stars are always out of reach and now it's been taken away from him.
Everything is empty and dark and alone, and he wants to escape, if only for a moment. To be somewhere where no one cares and that it's somehow okay. Where it doesn't hurt that he means nothing because no one means anything. No one thinks they have to.
A whole day passes and then another and Jungkook's head throbs from the lack of sleep. He can't see straight and his skin burns with every touch. The curtains are doing a lousy job so he hides under his desk, blankets thrown around, pressing his fingers into his face and mumbling through the derision. His heart beat is too fast, his stomach is unsettled. Everything hurts. Everything aches.
Sleep, sleep, sleep.
Escape.
Is that too much to ask for?
It's the only thought in his head, the only conscious plea - is it too much to ask for?
/
He hasn't met the man before.
That's the first sign that Jungkook gets that something is wrong - he knows they haven't met before. He doesn't know his name. It's the first time Jungkook's looked at someone in this world and not been able to recognize them from a memory that never happened.
The man is tall, with a number of coloured scarves wrapped around his hands. He waves them around with the hands of an artist, and the scarves disappear and reappear as he moves.
"Hello," he says. There's a smile in his voice but not on his face. "I'm Seokjin."
"I'm Jungkook."
"I know."
He twirls his fingers around each other and all the scarves disappear, flowers reappearing in their wake. It's beautiful. It's a total lie. Jungkook thinks he sees where the scarves have been stuffed into his sleeves, but then the moment passes and he sees nothing again.
He doesn't recognize the room they're in. The ceiling is low and the walls are splattered with graffiti, the paint inching slowly across the walls. It looks like it's still wet.
Seokjin fiddles with the flowers and they turn into a bird. It flies out the window.
"Cool, huh?" Seokjin says, but Jungkook can see the flowers in his sleeves now. Another moment and they're gone.
"Who are you?" he asks.
"Who knows," Seokjin says. "None of us really do. But the flowers - those were cool, huh?"
No, Jungkook thinks. He says nothing aloud.
Seokjin makes a face, but he doesn't look offended. "So," he says instead. "You have something to ask me?"
Jungkook blinks.
"You wouldn't be here if you didn't. You want to stay here, don't you?"
He blinks again, then just stares. Seokjin isn't even watching him - already fiddling with another sleeve to see if something can come out of that one. Jungkook has no clue what's going on.
"Who are you?"
Seokjin sighs, patient. "It shouldn't matter," he says. "But since I don't think you'll shut up otherwise - this is my world. And you're in it."
Suddenly, it all makes sense.
"So," Seokjin continues. He pulls out scarves from his sleeves and tosses them onto the floor, one by one. "You want to stay here?"
"I - think so."
"I can't do that," Seokjin says, and Jungkook's chest cracks a bit. "I'm not good enough for that yet. I don't know what you're running from but I can't fix it - but I can make you believe that this is real."
"Isn't it?" Jungkook asks, voice weak. This isn't a dream anymore. He knows that for sure.
Seokjin grins. It's a bit amused, a bit sad. "Does it matter?"
Jungkook doesn't know.
Seokjin snaps his fingers once, the scarves on the floor rising up to wrap themselves around his fingers again. They twist and turn until no part of his hand can be seen. "You never know what's real," he says. "What matters is where you want to be. You don't want to go back, right?"
Jungkook shakes his head.
"Well," Seokjin says. He reaches out, his smile falling just slightly. It's a terrible expression. "I'll do my best. But remember - there are things I can't scare away."
/
The stars are higher up than Jungkook thinks they should be.
If Jungkook raises a hand, reaching out towards them - they look impossibly far. Microscopic lights in the distance, shining for worlds that he'll never be a part of.
"Where are we?" he wonders, not for the first time. He doesn't expect an answer, he doesn't even want one. If there's one thing he's learned it's that it doesn't matter where he is.
"Who knows," Yoongi says. They've had this conversation before. Yoongi doesn't look at the sky, he's starting out at the building in the distance. It looks desolate from here, completely unlike what it really is - vibrant and colourless. Forever and constantly changing.
Nothing happens here. Nothing happens anywhere. When Yoongi walks by all the lights disappear and when Jungkook joins him nothing changes.
The darkness is a comfort around them. It never leaves.
Jungkook looks at the stars, and he wonders why they're so far. He wonders if there are places where they're closer - if that would change anything at all.
"Does it matter where we are?" Yoongi asks, not looking at Jungkook. "It's dark everywhere."
"It's not really," Jungkook says, nodding towards the sky. "Look."
Yoongi looks up. There's a moment where neither of them speaks, where they simply watch all the things they can never reach. All the worlds that are better than theirs could ever be.
"It's dark for us, though," Yoongi corrects, not daring to look back down. "It's always dark for us."
/