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There was a lot Jungkook would do for BTS - not just the members, but BTS’ name. He would tolerate rude interviewers, snappy managers, overbearing schedules, and many, many other things. There was a lot he would do, and not much he wouldn’t. He could work himself to the brink of death, in fact, he had quite a few times. If they said jump, he’d ask how high. If they said dance, he’d ask what style. If they said wear clown makeup, he’d ask how big the lips should be. If they said do it, he would, because it was all in the name of their band. It was a tribute to how hard they worked.
He never doubted the staff, he knew that everything they asked of him was with BTS’ best interest in mind. But when they told him he’d be dangling fifty feet up for one of their largest performances, he felt a jolt of fear course through him. He didn’t say anything, of course, he just nodded along.
The other members were far more vocal about their concerns, immediately grilling management about the safety precautions they would take. How would he be hanging? How long would be up there? What type of rigging would they use? What would they do if the equipment failed, did they have a plan B?
Every one of these questions was answered with a noncommittal wave, and were eventually halted when their manager told the others that everything would be taken care of.
Still, as they started their rehearsal, Namjoon and Yoongi stood close by, watching as the staff rigged two narrow seats to the wires. Hoseok and Jimin were already on the main stage, setting up points of entry and lighting. Jimin would be wearing a blindfold as he danced. Another leap that took them by surprise. Sure, it wasn’t as risky as dangling high above the stage, but it was nerve wracking for many other reasons. They assured Jimin and the others the blindfold would be relatively see-through, and when Jimin put it on he plastered a smile to his face and told the staff it was perfect. When questioned by his bandmates later, though, Jimin quietly divulged that he couldn’t see as well as he would’ve liked.
Yoongi glanced over his shoulder at the stage, watching as Jimin practiced his moves with the blindfold over his eyes, performing elaborate choreography as he tried to stay within the pool of his spotlight. The music would abruptly cut off when Jimin stepped out of the light, the staff urging him to remain within the confines of the five foot circumference. Yoongi could see the boy’s frustration from the other end of the stage, his lips pursed as he lifted the blindfold to observe the circle.
“I hate this,” Namjoon muttered under his breath, drawing Yoongi’s attention back to Jungkook, who was now seated on a swing of sorts.
The staff called that they would begin lifting him up, just to test his weight with the equipment. Jungkook held onto the wires, his fingers shifting as he tried to get a good grip on them as he held another swing seat to sit on his upper back.
Jungkook’s feet lifted from the ground, and soon enough he was twenty feet up.
“Okay, now lie back on the second support,” one of the operators called through a megaphone.
The music had halted onstage and Jimin - who had his blindfold lifted - and Hoseok watched them, their anxiety matching that of Namjoon and Yoongi.
Jungkook shifted his hands, dropping the wiring for the swing under his legs, but holding onto the second support as he lowered himself backwards to lie on it.
“Okay, now, drop your hands,” a manager called, taking the megaphone. “You need to look asleep.”
Jungkook let go of the wires and dropped his arms to hang limply. The boy wasn’t even elevated to the height they would have him at during the performance and Yoongi was ready to put his foot down and throw a fit. But Namjoon, the clairvoyant leader he is, reached over and squeezed down on Yoongi’s shoulder, silently telling him to wait.
Yoongi heard one of the members of the staff mention raising the rigging to the proper height and everybody else agreed. Without a word, the swing began to ascend. Namjoon sucked in a breath, observing as Jungkook clenched his fists, though he didn’t move.
“Hey,” Namjoon started, trying to get the attention of the staff, but his voice was too quiet- too hesitant. He didn’t bother continuing.
“You look too tense, Jungkook. Relax, otherwise it won’t be believable.” The manager looked unphased by the height of their youngest bandmate’s ascension.
The wires trembled and swayed, caused by an unseen force, making Jungkook swing back and forth in the air.
Footsteps behind them signalled the arrival of Taehyung and Seokjin, who had been under the stage, mapping out their paths from place to place.
“I can’t look,” Seokjin whispered, but his gaze didn’t shift from Jungkook, who let his head lull back and fists unclench.
Taehyung brought his thumbnail to his mouth, biting on it pensively. “This is safe. They’ve got him in a harness, right?”
“What do you mean,” Yoongi asked, not looking away from Jungkook as they tested out moving him up and down. The plan was to have Jungkook lowered from above, and once the intro ended, they would lower him into an opening of the stage, where he would quickly change and then rush to the main stage to join the rest of them for Blood Sweat and Tears.
Taehyung dropped his hands, his eyebrows pinched as he tried to observe Jungkook. “Like, they’ve got him hooked up to the wiring, right? So if one of the supports break or something he won’t fall?”
The silence that met his question was enough answer, but Namjoon still shook his head, and after a moment he said, “No, he’s just sitting on the swings.”
“I don’t like this,” Yoongi blurted. “This needs to stop. We can do something else. We don’t need all this smoke and mirrors to wow the crowd, we’re good enough without this.”
Namjoon was beginning to agree with him. Jungkook was still high above them, swinging back and forth at a much larger degree. “Hey,” Namjoon called, this time his voice much louder. The staff looked over at him. “Is it supposed to be swinging like that?”
One of the operators had the gaul to roll his eyes at the question. “It’s the draft up there, nothing for you to worry about.”
Namjoon felt heat rush to his face. Unrelenting irritation made his blood boil and he was about to walk over to them and demand they put an end to this, but was stopped when he heard Jungkook cry out.
The support under his legs had slipped down his thighs and he was beginning to fall between the planks holding him up. He grabbed the wires, but didn’t try to sit up, as another push of the draft had the support slipping further, his torso beginning to sag downward. “H-Hey!” Jungkook shouted, as if the entire room wasn’t aware of what was happening.
“Get him down!” Namjoon shouted when the staff just stared.
The operators scrambled lower the mechanism, but it wouldn’t move fast enough, he was fifty feet up, after all.
The support slipped to Jungkook’s knees, and he was barely keeping himself from falling the remaining thirty feet. The thin plank of wood was turned upside down now, flipping to rest on his calves and they could all tell he wouldn’t be able to hold himself up much longer. Jimin and Hoseok reached the rest of the group in record time, sprinting down the pathway to the other end of the stage.
They could all see the panic in Jungkook’s eyes as he struggled to hold onto the wiring, his legs slipping down the plank, which now rested at his ankles, and with the change of weight, the one supporting his upper back slid to his shoulders, the only force keeping it from slipping off him was Jungkook’s hold on the wires.
The first to move was Taehyung, once Jungkook was twenty feet above them. He stepped directly under Jungkook, and under any other circumstance, the others might’ve pulled him away. If Jungkook fell, he would fall onto Taehyung, and that risked injury for both of them. But nobody stopped him. Falling on Taehyung was better than falling onto the stage.
The heel of Jungkook’s boot slipped past the support, and he desperately tried to return it to its previous position, but with the change in weight, the wooden plank flipped, knocking his other foot from the support. Jungkook could only cry out in alarm and pain as the lower half of his body swung downwards, left to hang onto the wires. He kicked his legs in panic, cringing as the wire dug into his armpits.
Staff was shouting at him, but all their words meshed together in a flurry of panicked exclamations.
Taehyung didn’t move from where he stood, watching as Jungkook continued to descend above him. He reached up, ready to catch him.
“Hang on just a little longer, Jungkook,” Jimin called, suddenly next to Taehyung. “We’ll catch you if you fall!”
Taehyung squinted against the lights above their heads, watching as Jungkook gripped the wires. Red began tinting his palms, and it began dripping down his wrists, seeping into his white long sleeve. “The wires are cutting him,” Taehyung whispered, biting his lip. It must hurt .
“Jungkook, can you hear me,” Yoongi called, standing across from Taehyung now.
He received a strangled “Yes” in response.
“I need you to let go. You’re less than ten feet above us, we’ll catch you.”
A manager cried out. “No! He’s almost down, just let him-”
Suddenly, the mechanism stopped moving. If Taehyung reached, he could touch the soul of Jungkook’s boot.
“I-It’s stuck,” an operator cried, attempting to jam the lever down again. “One of the wires must’ve gotten tangled!”
Yoongi scowled. “Let go, Jungkook!”
There was a small whimper above them, but Jungkook refused to look down, his eyes squeezed shut.
“Look down,” Jimin called, “we’re right here, you’re not that far!”
Jungkook swallowed his fear and cracked his eyes open, looking past his boots to see three of his bandmates standing below him, mirroring his own fear.
He wanted to let go, but it’s like his body was working on it’s own, his hands wouldn’t budge. “I… I can’t,” Jungkook called, biting his lip.
“Yes you can,” Yoongi said, his voice even and calm. “We’re right here, we’re going to catch you.”
They were joined by Seokjin, Namjoon, and Hoseok, all six of them grouped together. There was no way Jungkook would even touch the ground at this rate.
Jungkook took in a shaky breath and tried to calm himself. His fingers ached as he moved to loosen them, and just as soon as his hands began to slip, he was falling past the remaining support.
Before he could feel the open air around him, he was landing in the arms of his bandmates. There were hands all over him, under his knees, back, neck, somebody had his head in their hands. He was safe.
There was a cumulative sigh of relief from everybody in the room when they realized Jungkook was okay.
“Oh Kookie,” Seokjin murmured, lowering his feet to the ground. “You’re hands…”
Jungkook glanced down to his palms and saw them covered in crimson. He hadn’t even realized the wire dug into his palms, perhaps it was the adrenaline. But now that he was safe, he was beginning to feel the sting. “Ouch,” he whispered, clenching his fists. His fingers ached from holding onto the wire so tight, his back was sore from the plank digging into his shoulders, but he was otherwise okay.
“Thank you,” Jungkook mumbled, letting the others push him into a standing position. His knees wobbled, and before he could even reach out for support, they buckled. There were arms hooked under his shoulders before he hit the ground, and he was heaved back up, immediately being pulled backwards in a crushing hug.
When he looked around, he saw Hoseok holding his right hand observing it with a pinched brow. Taehyung held his back against his chest, his nose buried in the younger’s shoulder. Jimin cupped his face, wiping his thumbs across the apples of his cheeks, and Jungkook realized he was crying.
“It’s okay, Kookie,” Jimin soothed. “That was scary, but you’re okay.”
Jungkook nodded, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to will away the sting in his eyes. He really thought he would fall.
When he opened his eyes again, he saw Namjoon standing with the staff, his eyes ablazed, but his posture calm. He was speaking quickly, nobody dared cutting him off. Yoongi stood at the operating board, not touching it, just looking over the controls.
“Here, wrap his hands in these,” Seokjin said, reappearing with two towels. He handed one to Hoseok and moved to the other side to take Jungkook’s other hand.
Jimin pulled his head down and held him against his shoulder, running his fingers through the short hairs at the nape of his neck. Jungkook closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, letting them steady him. He was okay.
Jimin moved a hand to Jungkook’s chin, urging him to lift his head, and when he looked up, Namjoon was reapproaching.
“They’re not going to let us go home since we have to perform tomorrow, but they did say Jungkook could sit down and watch the rehearsal while they figure out a new intro.” Namjoon ran a hand through his hair, still looking vastly irritated.
Yoongi stood next to him, and to anybody else, Yoongi might just look a little bored. But the members that knew him well could see the intensity of his gaze as he watched Jungkook sniffle like a child. “We could sue.”
“No,” Jungkook whined. “It was just a technical issue, and I’m fine.”
“You aren’t,” Yoongi exclaimed. “Your hands are bleeding, and the psychological trauma-”
“Don’t shout at him,” Hoseok said, his voice lacking bite. “It was scary for all of us. Let’s just take a breather for a minute.”
Taehyung didn’t detach himself from Jungkook’s back as they walked towards the seating next to the stage, only letting go to allow Jungkook to sit down, but was immediately pressed to his side once they were settled.
They sat there in silence for a minute, all of them seemingly in a trance, until their manager approached. “So,” he began sitting backwards in a chair in front of them, “we’re going to start rehearsing again in a moment. I have people fetching something to wrap your hands with, Jungkook.”
Jungkook nodded in thanks, Seokjin was still pressing one of the towels to his left hand, Taehyung held the other.
“They’re going to come up with a newer, safer, intro to your performance. I’m pretty sure they still want Jungkook suspended, but they’re going to lower the altitude. I think they’re leaning towards a peak of fifteen feet resting, but they’ll still lower you from the top-”
“No,” Yoongi bit, looking the manager in the eye. “He’s not going that high on that fucking death swing.”
Jungkook couldn’t bring himself to argue with Yoongi. He didn’t want to mess with that again.
“They’re fashioning riggings onto the wires now to hook to a harness Jungkook will wear. It will ensure that neither of the boards under you will shift, and will also secure you to the wires if the boards fail. You won’t be at any risk of falling. I’ve asked them to test it before they put you on it, though. We’ll most likely be here earlier in the morning to practice with you, but you won’t be getting back up there tonight.”
Jungkook sighed in relief, and Yoongi seemed to deflate a little.
The manager ushered Jimin and Hoseok back to the stage to continue their run through, but the others remained by Jungkook.
Taehyung leaned his chin on Jungkook’s shoulder, whispering, “You have every right to say no to this, you know.”
“What do you mean?” Jungkook asked, glancing over at him.
Seokjin placed a hand on Jungkook’s thigh. “You don’t have to do the intro, even if they say it’ll be safer, you’re allowed to say no.”
“I think you should,” Yoongi grumbled, picking at the holes in his jeans.
“It’s your choice, Jungkook, nobody else will make it for you,” Namjoon said.
Jungkook looked at his knees, his palms still stinging under the towels held by his friends. He didn’t have to if he didn’t want to… At the moment, he would give anything to never touch those swings again. But, before everything went south, before he almost fell fifty feet, he felt good. He liked being suspended so high above the stage. He liked picturing what it would be like to just lie in the air as fans screamed and got excited for their show. “I’ll,” Jungkook said slowly, taking a breath, “I’ll think about it.”
The others nodded, giving him their support, and Jungkook couldn’t fight his smile. They cared so much.
The music started up again, and Jimin and Hoseok began their practice. Jungkook watched as the lights flashed on and off around them, Jimin effortlessly dancing within the pool of light surrounding him, Hoseok hitting every move on beat. They weren’t even wearing their outfits yet, and there would be darkness shrouding the entire stadium during the performance. Jungkook knew it would be amazing.