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“Don’t look at me with those eyes, not like that.” He whispered softly as his fingers clutched the blade tightly within his slim fingers. They were trembling slightly, partly of nerves, partly because he was clutching the blade so tightly, as if a lifeline. But he did not notice those tremors, he was looking at himself in the mirror, at those dark brown eyes staring back at him with sadness and pity.
“Jin-Hyung! What are you doing in there? Hurry up! I need to use the bathroom!” Kim Taehyung called from outside, fists rapping the wooden door sharply breaking Kim Seokjin’s internal monologue.
The blade clattered into the sink and laid there gleaming dully under the bathroom lights. It had been so close, sliding that blade across his skin was just one more step. The internal howling, those storms whipping about, they were getting too hard to control, there had to be an outlet to allow it out. Dancing, singing, practicing all but sapped his energy and temporarily allowed him to focus his attention somewhere else instead of those demons. But, when all became quiet, when he was surrounded by the dark, by the silence, all the demons come in a vengeance.
“Hyung!” One more impatient shout, a few more raps.
“Coming. Just hold on a minute.” He turned on the water, washed his hands, picked up the blade, opened the cupboard and placed it inside. Another one more day, another line not crossed.
--
He looked out the window, at the scenery passing by. It had been a hectic week, with punishing schedules and overworked team mates. Tempers were short but they neither had the time or energy to blow. It will come soon he knew, but now, it was a lull traveling from one site to the next.
He had messed up the routine slightly just now, an off step coming into the chorus, nearly bumping into Park Jimin coming up from behind. An accident had been averted but it meant more practice later after their schedules had ended for the day. He was really tired, but could not seem to close his eyes to sleep. A fan sign was next, and he had to put on another one more mask called professionalism for his fans.
One more day, he told himself, just take it one step at a time.
--
It was the weekend, they had practice later in the day, but they had some free time off for now. Jin opened the fridge to check its contents. It seemed that they were practically out of everything. Nothing seemed to be enough for seven growing boys, even cumulatively. This is what happens when they were on the road so much. Nobody stocked up the fridge to prevent wastage. He would need to make a trip to the supermarket just around the corner.
Closing the door silently behind him, he pulled his baseball cap lower unto his head, and adjusted his mask over his mask. He could not have bothered with the contacts and wore his prescription glasses instead. Pushing them up higher on his nose, he set off at a brisk pace towards his destination. He had just about half an hour to get to the store and back to start the dishes before the majority of his dongsaengs woke up.
The Ajumma at the supermarket greeted him with a smile and a friendly wave. He smiled and gave a slight bow back before continuing his browsing through the selections for what he needed. He walked back towards the counter to pay for his items but this time, there was another person at the counter besides the supermarket Ajumma.
“Oh! You are from that famous idol group right? Which one are you?” The second ajumma spoke up excitedly ignoring the protests of her friend to allow Jin to shop in peace.
“Hello aunty. I am Jin, from BTS. Thank you for your kind attention to us.” Jin answered her politely with a bow before stacking the items from his basked neatly at the counter.
“Jin? Oh the oldest! The one they say cannot sing or dance well right?”
“Yah! Soon Hee-ah, that is not very nice!”
“What do you mean? I can say what I want right?”
Jin pasted a polite smile on his face while the second ajumma chattered on, commenting about all and everything of their recent activities for the group, ironically she was a fan of BTS, just not him in particular. The supermarket ajumma picked up her speed scanning the items, all the while giving him apologetic looks.
“Seokjin-ah, I am so sorry. Here, this is something from me. Just ignore her all right? Cook well with those for your dongsaengs all right?” Jin gave her a heartfelt smile and bowed once again before heading out the supermarket, leaving the two aunties behind to bicker between themselves. He heaved a sigh of relief but his brow furrowed when he recalled the earlier words. He knew the ajumma meant no harm, but it still cut through. No one would see his hard work or effort he placed into his vocal training or his dance moves, all they saw were the brighter stars of the maknaes or the natural gifts of the other members. He sighed, it is after all what it is.
--
“And the winner of Album Of The Year…” The MC paused, the delay of announcement deliciously feeding the frenzy of the moment, triggering the screams and shouting of the fans most of them female to a fever pitch. All of them chanting and screaming the names of the idol groups of whom they were supporting, waving their handmade signs and light sticks in the air.
“The winner of Album Of The Year goes to… Bangtan Sonyeondan, BTS, You Never Walk Alone.” And if they thought the shouts and excited screaming could no longer increase, they did. Jin stood up with his bandmates with huge smiles on their faces, making their way up towards the stage to receive the award. Kim Namjoon, RM, pushed Jin towards the front to receive the award and stepped back to allow him the microphone for the thank you speech.
“ARMY~~~.” He started, his voice prompting a feedback of shouts and screams. He smiled before continuing, “I really would like to thank all of you, your love and support has brought us to where we are right now. Thank you.” All seven bowed respectfully towards the crowd, the MC before walking off stage. They had to change for their next performance. Jin walked carefully down, cradling the award in his hands, this was a great accolade, it was the album which had his song inside. He could be someone after all.
--
In the end, it did not leave him, the insecurities, the internal demons that spoke so much harshly than any other critics. The urge to use the blade, the self harm as an outlet, it did not leave. The strict diet, the judgement about his looks, all of them never ceased to hurt and cut, but somehow or rather, faking it till it works somehow managed to work somehow. Another day another precarious balance between light and falling into the dark abyss, it was a tight rope but when the darker clouds threatened to block out the existing sunlight, he would think of this song, his solo, his shoutout to the world, his Epiphany. It would be enough for now.