Archive of Our Own ^beta

Yoongi takes a deep breath.

The crowd is immense, chanting and bellowing behind him, and he closes his eyes for a second, drinking it in. It fills his soul up to the very brim but never overspills because there is still, even after all these years and all this success, enough space for something else. Something that would make him truly the happiest man in the Universe. But it isn’t there.

He doesn’t turn around, not quite yet, but instead looks up to see the illusion of him next to him on the stage, his smile the same as it was when they were teenagers, but it falls away quickly to be replaced with a sad frown.

He wants to apologize but it never did them any good. He swallows. Clears his throat into the mic.

Listen carefully, Jiminnie. This one's for you.

(Like they all are.)

“I ran while only looking forward…”

1

Seven years ago.

January 2013

“You sound amazing.”

Jimin hides his giggles behind the quilt and falls face down on the couch, making the embarrassed sounds of a wounded ostrich. Yoongi uses the fact he’s not looking and allows himself to smile so wide his cheeks hurt.

“What?” He says with an attempt to hide his fondness. He fails. “It’s true.”

“It’s raw,” Jimin says, peeking from behind the quilt, looking up at Yoongi with stars in his eyes. “Promise me to never release it like it is.”

Yoongi purses his lips in fake thoughtfulness and looks back at the screen, where the demo of So Far Away just finished playing. He really wasn’t lying — Jimin sounded amazing. Yoongi found a bunch of flaws in his own rap, but even his scrutinizing ass couldn’t pinpoint a single mistake in Jimin’s vocals. Considering he’s untrained and they recorded it on Yoongi’s DIY station, it’s fantastic.

“I don’t think I’ll ever release it at all,” he says eventually. “This one is just for me.”

“Yeah, and ever letting anyone hearing it would kill your career before it starts,” Jimin notes, sitting up and scooting closer on the couch to put his chin on Yoongi’s knee.

Yoongi pats his hair from where he’s sitting at the desk and sighs heavily.

Nobody can pinpoint what exactly led to the way things in music are right now, but it is what it is. Releasing a song with mixed vocals and rapping means career suicide in both fields.

There’s rappers and vocalists, also known as idols, each with their own worlds and rules, their own systems and orders, and they never meet. It’s not a mix-and-match situation, hell, it’s something of a fairytale at this point. Nobody can imagine ever hearing a song that mixes the genres, and even the most successful performers rarely risk it. Maybe for some fake-peace collaborations and concerts, but never as singles or even B-sides.

Yoongi hates it. He knows he’s a rapper all and through, and he can never imagine himself entering the idol scene, but it still sucks a great deal that he can’t even theorize about it. The funny thing is that so many artists try to break away from Korea’s market and dominate the US, but none of them ever dare to even attempt the thing Americans are doing effortlessly. Hip-hop here doesn’t allow ‘that cute shit’. Idols don’t allow ‘that crude noise’. Fuck them all, if you ask Yoongi.

But he can’t yet, not while he’s still nineteen and sitting in his parents' garage, recording impossible tracks with his best friend. One day, though. One day.

“I’ll change this world, just you watch,” he whispers.

Jimin smiles at him and scrunches up his nose.

“I know you will, Yoon,” he murmurs, tilting his head. “And I’ll be there to cheer you on.”

A thing passes between them then — the one Yoongi has been noticing more and more lately. It’s quiet and soft, something barely noticeable, and it manifests in Jimin’s shining look and that whooshing feeling in Yoongi’s stomach whenever he catches it.

He knows what it is. Not an idiot, after all. It’s probably stupid and overdone — catching a crush on your best friend, but here they are, in this cramped room, the speakers still carrying the echoes of their voices mixed together, and Jimin is looking at him like he put all the stars in the sky.

“I got an audition,” Jimin tells him, but it doesn’t break the atmosphere of quiet content they have between them.

Yoongi blinks in surprise and smiles.

“That’s amazing, baby chick,” he says breathlessly, squeezing Jimin’s shoulder. “You’ll definitely get this one.”

Jimin rolls his eyes and stands up, fixing the sleeves of his sweater. It’s the middle of January, and Yoongi suddenly remembers to turn the radiator back on. He disabled it while they were recording, and the noise it emits when Yoongi clicks the button provides the reason why. The soft rattling sound fills the garage, and Jimin extends his arms to get warmer.

“You say that about each one,” he murmurs with a small frown.

“Well, I’ll be right eventually, won’t I?” He asks, arching an eyebrow. “You’re the most talented dancer I know, Jiminnie, and they’re all blind idiots who somehow don’t see your potential.”

He moves to the couch and notes the tints of red on Jimin’s cheeks. He wonders if it’s the radiator or the praise. Probably both.

“If that doesn’t work out, you can always try the idol thing,” he suggests, even though it leaves a sour taste in his mouth.

Jimin looks up at him with his lips curled down.

“But if we both succeed, we’ll be on different sides,” he whispers. “I can’t imagine doing anything in life and not having you at arm's length.”

Yoongi feels his lungs constrict, a wave of unabashed affection almost knocking the breath out of him. He leans forward, brushing his knuckles over Jimin’s chin, noting with delight how Jimin’s breath hitches.

“I promise you that no matter how far apart life takes us,” he starts gently, “I will always find my way back to you.”

Jimin’s face scrunches up for a fraction of a second but he contains himself in time, instead closing his eyes and putting their foreheads together. Yoongi feels his breath gush over his own lips and thinks — this is it. He feels the same way. This is it.

“Yoongi, I…”

“Yeah?”

The moment stretches on forever, and he somehow finds Jimin’s hand with his in the creases of the wool quill, intertwining their fingers. Jimin takes a breath and—

“Never mind,” he murmurs, pulling away and burying his face in Yoongi’s hoodie.

Yoongi’s so caught off guard he falls back, resulting in Jimin getting tucked between him and the back of the couch, his hands immediately going to wrap around Yoongi’s waist. Yoongi automatically hugs him back, his mind reeling.

Never mind.

“Okay,” he whispers, forcing it out of his mind.

If Jimin isn’t ready for anything, it’s okay. He’ll wait for as long as it takes. For now, he will content himself with simply holding his best friend in his arms and whispering to him about all their dreams and heights they will undoubtedly achieve one day. Together.

2

February 2013

At first, Jimin decides that he positively dislikes Namjoon. He looks like he stepped out of an old American gangster movie, and the face he makes when they finish listening to So Far Away doesn’t help the situation. He curls his lips and sighs deeply.

“I’ll be honest,” he says, clearing his throat. “I love the song. I really do.”

Jimin blinks in surprise, throwing a look at Namjoon’s friend Hoseok, who’s sitting on Yoongi’s other side.

“Me too,” Hoseok supplies, tilting his head and meeting Jimin’s eyes. “The mix of vocals and rapping? Epic.”

“But?” Yoongi asks, his lips tight.

Jimin moves a little bit closer to him, seeking silent comfort from the contact. Yoongi puts his hand on Jimin’s knee in a soothing motion. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Namjoon at the table. He doesn’t comment.

“You know it yourself, man,” Namjoon drawls. “It will never fly if we want to get out in the world.”

‘We.’ Jimin feels resentment toward the word. Some selfish part of him doesn’t want Yoongi to join their so-called crew. Yoongi is amazing all by himself. But then again, it’s not up to him to decide.

“I’m not saying I want to release it,” Yoongi clarifies, chuckling. “I know it myself. I have other tracks for you to listen to. I just wanted to make it clear beforehand — down the road, I want to blur the lines and establish a new order. Where idols and rappers don’t have to pretend they hate each other just because the tradition tells them so.”

“I’m right with you on that one,” Hoseok snorts. “The system is bullshit.”

“Yeah, it’s been long overdue something changed,” Namjoon agrees. “And we actually have the same vision as you. Because honestly? This song of yours sounds better than half of what’s out there on the charts right now.”

“It’s fresh and beautiful. Sharp and gentle.” Hoseok jerks his shoulder with a crooked smile. “The best of both worlds.”

Yoongi looks at Jimin, and Jimin knows — he’ll have to learn to like Namjoon. Because the look in Yoongi’s eyes is something compared to a man dying of thirst in a desert and seeing a river. He needs them, he wants to work with them, he digs them. And well, Jimin never had any troubles in hopping on whatever bullshit Yoongi is supplying. He smiles a little, squeezing Yoongi’s hand on his knee.

“Personally, I think the three of you have an amazing future ahead of you,” he says quietly, swallowing.

Namjoon smirks and nods to himself, something smug about him. Even though it’s a bit annoying, Jimin can’t help but admire his confidence. It’s the same cocky high Yoongi is constantly chasing.

“Hey, you’re a dancer, right?” Hoseok suddenly says, his eyes squinted. “I thought I recognized you from some auditions.”

Jimin immediately feels like curling up on himself and hiding behind Yoongi, but instead he straightens up and measures Hoseok with a look, arching an eyebrow.

“You dance?”

“Occasionally.” Hoseok shrugs and smiles again. There’s something disarming about that smile — you can’t help but like the boy sporting it. “But Namjoon here got me all invested in this rapping thing.”

“I’m familiar with the concept of best friends dragging you into things you never thought you’d like, yeah,” Jimin says, unable to hold back a smile as he looks at Yoongi.

“You’re very good,” Hoseok supplies. “I’m honestly surprised nobody has scouted you yet.”

Yoongi catches it before Jimin can get upset, intertwining their fingers and smiling proudly.

“They will, one day,” he announces confidently. “Universe has something great in store for Jiminnie.”

Once again, Jimin doesn’t miss the look that Hoseok and Namjoon exchange, and it sends his mind into a brief whirlpool of panic. He’s not hiding his sexuality, and Yoongi isn’t that far in the closet, too, but it can still turn weird when strangers learn about it. Society isn’t as judgmental and close-minded as it used to be, especially their generation, but still.

“Hey, I have a friend who’s scouting a group of dancers to take them to Seoul,” Namjoon perks up. “There’s some grand audition for a secret project. Nobody knows what it will be, but it’s promising to be big. Do you want me to put you in touch with him?”

Jimin stares at him, taken aback. His personality — or at least the glimpses Jimin was able to get so far — doesn’t really match his looks and the first impression Jimin got from him. After surprise comes guilt. He’s really not one to judge someone based on their appearances.

“That would be nice, thank you,” he says shyly, feeling weird all over.

He sees Yoongi’s face break out in the biggest smile on the edge of his vision and imagines his giddiness at Jimin getting along with his new friends. He met them at some underground rapping event, and, according to him, they’re the best on the scene. Jimin would argue — because in his humble opinion, there’s nobody that can outshine Yoongi — but he doesn’t. Yoongi knows what he needs, and apparently, he needs them.

“So when do we get to work?” Hoseok claps his hands, straightening up.

“Let me show you some of my other work first,” Yoongi says with a chuckle, going to the computer, but Jimin sees the look on Namjoon’s face.

Somehow, he’s already seen everything he needed, and it didn’t take him long to figure out what Jimin already knows. Yoongi is worth all the risk.

3

March 2013

It’s cold at the station. Jimin wraps the jacket tighter around him, suspicious of all the people darting about. Yoongi gets his attention by brushing a hand over his.

“You sure you don’t want to come with us?” He asks again, for what must be the hundredth time.

“I told you, dad needs my help,” Jimin reminds him with a smile. “I’ll get to Seoul in a week for that audition. We’ll see each other then.”

Yoongi looks doubtful, but there’s no time to argue any more, and the impatient looks on Hoseok and Namjoon’s faces aren’t helping.

They got signed. Just like that, after one talk with some rookie producer who’s too ambitious for his own good and wants artists who will fight for what they think is right and not just conform to what the world of hip hop is telling them. He barely started his own company — BigHit, if Jimin recalls correctly — but the only duo he’s managing is doing fairly good. But he wants someone new, someone bold and fresh, someone who isn’t afraid to come for blood. Apparently, a trio of underground rappers from Daegu is exactly what he needs.

Jimin is happy for them, of course he is, he’d give anything to keep that happy look on Yoongi forever, but something is still weighing on his soul.

“Jimin-ah, I…” Yoongi sputters, his eyes lost as they hungrily take in Jimin’s face. As if he’s afraid to forget it.

“Never mind me. Go.” Jimin swallows and makes himself smile. “Go, hyung, see the world and conquer it. I’ll see you soon.”

I love you. It would be so easy to end his sentence with that, but he knows it’s the worst time, and it won’t end in anything but pain for the both of them. Besides, he’s not even sure it’s the right word. He feels too young and dumb for such fancy words, and maybe he shouldn’t use them until he’s absolutely sure that is what he means.

Yoongi sighs heavily and nods to himself, gripping the strap of his bag tighter.

“Call me when you get there, yeah?”

“Of course.” Yoongi leans in and leaves a quick kiss on his cheek. “See you, baby chick.”

Jimin laughs, letting the bundle of anxiety inside evaporate into pleasant bubbles of happiness. Yoongi grins at him, proud of himself, and waves his hand before hopping on the bus.

“Good luck with the audition!” Hoseok yells before following him.

Now it’s just Jimin and Namjoon, and he swallows before stepping closer and looking up in his face.

“I know he’s older, but look after him for me, please,” he says breathlessly. “He tends to get carried away and forget about eating or sleeping.”

“You’re saying this as if you’re never going to see him again,” Namjoon chuckles nervously, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. They’re dead serious. “You’re gonna get that thing, Jimin. And we'll see you in Seoul.”

“Sure.” Jimin rubs his lips. “But still. You’re going to be spending a lot of time in his company. Need to know the basics.”

Namjoon chuckles again but doesn’t comment, simply patting Jimin’s shoulder and waving goodbye.

“Good luck!” Jimin hurries to say when he’s almost on the bus and gets a grateful smile in return.

The bus departs a few moments later, and Jimin stands there, gripping his shoulders and wondering why it feels like letting go. He’s going to see Yoongi in a week. They’ve went without seeing each for far longer, yet this one somehow feels like the worst of them all. He swallows and turns around, careful not to bump into any rushing strangers.

He has to pass that audition, whatever it is. He didn’t tell this to Yoongi, but it’s the last chance he’s giving himself. It’s been long enough of him stressing his parents out by trying to chase his pointless dream. If he doesn’t get it, he’ll have to settle on going to college and becoming another perfect little white-collar citizen, never to feel the rush of performance or the heat of the spotlights. It’s okay. He’ll handle this somehow.

Jimin grips his shoulders as he gets home, thinking about the retreating bus and cloudlike dreams.

4

He feels like crying from happiness and excitement, his hands shaking as he grips his phone, his fingers barely managing to dialYoongi’s contact.

“I got it!” He screams as soon as Yoongi picks up, unable to contain his joy.

Yoongi yells something incomprehensible but definitely congratulatory at him, and Jimin laughs so hard he falls off the bench, the cool surface of the floor soothing his aching thighs.

Yoongi is still screaming, and Jimin just sits there on the floor, happy beyond any comprehension, the tears flowing down his face as he listens to his best friend get probably even more excited than he is.

Finally, after a minute or so, Yoongi stops to catch a breath, and Jimin uses it as an opportunity to tell him the rest.

“You can’t even imagine how big it is,” he starts, picking at his pants. “It’s a fucking drama, hyung. They’re doing a whole show about dancers, and I got the role of some secondary character, but he’s recurring and has almost as much time as the main guy.”

“My baby chick is gonna be an actor,” Yoongi says overdramatically, obviously going for the role of a proud grandma. He’s so dramatic it makes Jimin miss him even more. “Oh my, my heart can’t handle it.”

“Shut up,” Jimin whines, covering his mouth. His lips feel so wide it’s surprising his skin isn’t cracking. “And now listen to it. The main actor is Kim freaking Taehyung.”

“Holy shit.”

“I know!” Jimin squeals, immediately covering his mouth and looking over his shoulder. There’s barely anyone left in the changing rooms, but they’re all the people who got parts too, so they get his happiness. “I had no idea this audition was this big.”

“Well, now it makes sense why they wanted to keep it a secret,” Yoongi hums.

Only now does Jimin realize there’s some noise in the background, the sounds of instruments and mixing stations.

“Shit, are you working?” He hurries to say. “Am I interrupting?”

“I always have time for you, Jimin-ah,” Yoongi says softly, and yeah, there it is — that tugging feeling in Jimin’s stomach. “I miss you.”

“I’ll see you tonight,” Jimin reminds him, his own voice taking on that gentle quiet tone that always appears when he’s talking to Yoongi. “They want to round up all the people who passed to sort out the details, but then I’ll head out to you guys.”

“Ah, my Jiminnie is gonna be a movie star.” Yoongi sounds so happy and smug you’d think he’s the one having all his dreams realized.

And well, he is. They both are. It’s incredible.

“Don’t you forget about your old little best friend, Park Jimin,” Yoongi says jokingly, but there’s something dark and barely traceable in his voice. Jimin hates it.

“Never, Min Yoongi,” he promises, biting his lips. “But you’re right on one part. You are little.”

The accompanying yelling sends him into another fit of laughter so hard he falls to the floor, and as he lies there listening to Yoongi bitch at him, he thinks, this is probably the happiest I will ever be.

5

May 2013

They enter the charts with a crashing sound of the intro single seven weeks after getting together. Yoongi can’t really believe it, even with every screen in the studio showing real-time statistics, and he just sits there, staring at his fucking song blowing up all across the country and even entering the US chart, even if it’s the lowest position. That’s better than any rookie rapper ever achieved, anyway.

He thinks Namjoon is crying, but he can’t make himself look away to check. Hoseok is yelling in the background, just like he’s been doing for the past fuck knows how long. Yoongi starts smiling, feeling like both of them at the same time. He doesn’t know if he wants to cry or yell more.

Baepsae is shining beautifully from every chart he’s looking at. They’re trending on Naver and Twitter. Korean blogosphere is blowing up with buzz about their album. They’re excited, they can’t stop listening to Skit, they’re all calling them the next generation trendsetters. Propheting success. Predicting their music shaping the way they see the industry.

There’s as much hate as there is support, but he skims through those comments without letting them affect his mood. He knew before going in they would be against change. None of those petty tweets can bring him down from the high he’s riding, and for every sentence accusing them of biting more than they can chew, there’s ten more praising them for creating a fresh sound in a stale industry.

Fuck. It’s unbelievable. He’s wanted this for so long, but now that it’s here, it can’t really settle in his mind, and so the only logical thing to do now is to unlock his phone and press dial.

It connects painfully long, and when he finally hears the ringing, he starts shaking his leg in anticipation. He wonders if Jimin already saw the news, but he already knows for sure he loved the album. He was the first one to listen to it, after all, insisting on Yoongi playing every track to him even though he was exhausted after shooting and came home at around three in the morning, barely awake when he FaceTimed Yoongi. They’re both in Seoul, but they barely have time to talk, let alone see each other, what with Yoongi holed up in the studio (fuck, they’ll be able to afford new equipment after this, holy shit) and Jimin basically living on set or sleeping in the dorms the shooting company supplied the young actors with (damn, his Jiminnie is an actor).

His excitement starts wearing off when he realizes Jimin won’t pick up. Each ring sounds like a needle poking on his balloon of happiness, but he tries not to mind it. He’ll blow it back up. Jimin is probably sleeping, and it’s one in the morning, what is Yoongi thinking, calling him up like that? The boy barely has any time to breathe.

Just when he thinks about hanging up, the service carrier does it for him. He doesn’t even wait for the voicemail message, disconnecting the call.

He looks at the screen again, hypnotized by the sales numbers gradually going up and comments from known rappers popping out. Even some idols are tweeting their way, dammit. It restores some of his happiness, and he smiles again.

But something inside of him darkens as if there is suddenly a wall throwing shade onto the space that was always in the sunlight before.

6

September 2013

“Jimin-ah,” Taehyung whines, his face scrunched up like a little kid. “I don’t wanna go-o.”

Jimin rolls his eyes and throws a tie at him.

“Get up and get dressed, you’re the only one they’re actually waiting for.”

If someone told him a year ago that he’d be hanging out in Kim Taehyung’s apartment after they just spent a weekend shopping and having fun, and getting ready to attend an award show as his costar, Jimin would probably die on the spot from laughter. He was just a kid struggling to land a single dancing audition. Taehyung, on the other hand, is a world-renowned actor and idol who, by the time he turned nineteen, already had shelves of awards that could feed Jimin for a decade if sold in parts.

But that was then. Now they just wrapped up the first season of their joint show, Taehyung is twenty-three and desperately bored all the time, and Jimin is moving into the same building next month. His name isn’t really known yet, but Taehyung keeps showing him articles that mention him alongside the main cast, the critics praising his performance and telling everyone to anticipate the release of Stigma.

Taehyung is… Amazing, honestly. For all his fame and success, he doesn’t have a single arrogant bone in his body. From the first day of shooting, he was everyone’s best friend, from his costars to extras and staff. The show’s director wrote Stigma specifically for him, and, as Jimin heard later in the changing rooms, Taehyung requested for the cast to be non-famous and beginning actors and dancers. Someone tried to explain it by the fact he didn’t want anyone to outshine him, but Taehyung himself later told Jimin that everybody the producers considered for other roles were absolute bores and he wanted to give rookies an opportunity to get discovered.

They hit it off since day one, and once Jimin snapped out of being starstruck, he found himself spending more and more time with Tae after they wrapped for the day. He’s an incredibly interesting and entertaining person, and even though some people warned Jimin against striking a friendship with him to avoid getting tangled in all the rumors and scandals surrounding Taehyung’s extravagant persona, he still found himself drawn to him. Taehyung returned his interest with striking enthusiasm, and in just four short months, they became inseparable.

“You’re real,” Tae explained it once, munching on a chicken roll. “I like that. I feel like I can be myself with you and you won’t judge me.”

To Jimin’s humble opinion, there isn’t anything to judge. Taehyung is loud and talented as fuck, and he never apologizes for his stances on things he cares about — which includes a whole range of activism branches.

He’s also a flaming gay. This wasn’t a deciding factor, but it is still nice to be friends with someone who gets it and knows how to handle the societal commentary. In simple terms, Taehyung doesn’t really give a fuck about what people are saying about him. Korea isn’t as homophobic as it used to be when Jimin’s parents were kids, but it’s still expecting everyone to follow the picture-perfect standard of healthy family values, however straight or gay they are.

Taehyung refuses to settle down and find a husband to adopt a kid just so that society deems him a responsible and adult individual.

“I’m twenty-three for fuck’s sake, of course I’m gonna get papped at clubs,” he often complains. “They’re expecting me to get married all the time, which is precisely why I’m never doing it.”

All in all, Taehyung is pretty fucking awesome.

He’s also pretty fucking lazy.

“You’re mean.” Taehyung pouts as he finally stands up from the couch and beelines for his bedroom to get dressed. “All my previous assistants were nicer.”

“Call me assistant one more time, and you’ll be picking up your suit from the dumpster downstairs,” Jimin yells after him.

He’s almost ready himself, the only missing factor being makeup, but they have a stylist coming over soon to freshen them up before the limo gets here.

“I’m going to the premiere of my show in a limo,” Jimin murmurs, staring at the wall.

It’s unbelievable. He wants to talk to Yoongi.

It isn’t a strange thought, but it somehow still surprises him. He wasn’t as successful in keeping in touch as he hoped while they were shooting, but as soon as they were done, he could finally go back to his routine of calling Yoongi at all hours of the day and night. Rather ironically, it was around that time that Yoongi’s own schedule became hectic and unpredictable with their album blowing up so fast it still gives him a whiplash. Skit is loved throughout the country, and he’s so immensely proud of them it sometimes makes him tear up.

They still try to talk as often as they can, no matter the lack of time or energy. Just like now, Jimin unlocks his phone and dials Yoongi, pressing it to his ear as he fixes his tie, assessing himself in the mirror, Taehyung’s suit sitting on him comfortably. Damn, this thing probably costs more than his parents’ car.

The line keeps ringing, but somewhere deep inside, he already knows Yoongi won’t pick up. They’re in Japan now, doing more promotions and holding a small concert, so it figures he’s too busy to pick up. It makes something bitter rise in Jimin’s throat, but he doesn’t let it get to him, hanging up and throwing the phone on the couch.

“Lover boy isn’t answering?” Taehyung asks, coming into the living room fully dressed.

He looks disheveled but still hotter than every idol in the industry combined. This isn’t fair. Jimin probably wouldn’t be able to look this expensive if he was famous for a lifetime.

“He’s probably shooting something,” Jimin guesses, not letting the sadness taint his voice. “And he’s not my lover.”

“Doesn’t mean you don’t want him to be,” Taehyung notes reasonably, going into the kitchen to get them some juice. He comes out with two packs and throws one to Jimin. “From what I’ve heard you say about him, that man is a damn catch.”

“He is,” Jimin admits shyly, smiling against his will. He picks on the straw, carefully disengaging it from the package. “He’s the best.”

“Ugh, genuine romantic feelings,” Taehyung comments with contempt. “Disgusting.”

“You’re just jealous I’m in love,” Jimin chastises him, but all the joy evaporates immediately as soon as he realizes what he just said. “I mean— I’m not— It’s not what I—”

Taehyung watches him stutter with amusement, sucking on the straw and standing there like some freaking Cupid who just got a headshot.

“Oh, what do you know,” Jimin murmurs, turning away to look at the mirror again.

“You look amazing, unclench,” Taehyung assures him. “They’re gonna love you.”

“They’re gonna love me because you made me swear not to leave your side.”

“Yeah, maybe, but then they’ll see the pilot and forget I ever existed. You’ll be the main star.”

Jimin goes to argue with that, but his phone chiming interrupts him. He opens the notification and can’t contain his smile as he sees a message from Yoongi. Simple black words in a grey cloud, but they make him so happy he almost squeals.

yoongles: sorry couldn’t pick up, sun, we’re in the middle of an interview. good luck on the premiere, I’ll be cheering for you. steal their hearts, baby chick!

“He calls you baby chick,” Taehyung comments in a strained voice from behind Jimin’s shoulder where he leaned to read the message — a level of trust he gained from Jimin in less than a month. “That’s so fucking endearing I want to rip out my own heart.”

“Shut up,” Jimin mumbles, his fingers hovering over the keyboard as he thinks about his reply.

The doorbell rings, and Taehyung murmurs something bitchy as he walks away to open the door for the stylist. Jimin takes a calming breath and responds.

jiminnie: ty, hyung. good luck too! miss u & proud of u

Yoongi reads it immediately, but doesn’t reply right away. Jimin stares at the screen, waiting for the typing dots to appear with a little delay, but the longer he stands there, the less hope he feels. It’s okay. Yoongi is busy, just like he is. And he misses him too, Jimin knows it.

It’s okay. They’re okay.

///

The premiere goes spectacularly. Taehyung was right, just like he always is, and as soon as they leave the theater after the screening, Jimin gets swarmed with reporters and blushes his way through questions and praises while Taehyung smugly sips his cocktail in the back. He uses the opportunity of being finally left relatively alone to hit on some idol, and Jimin absentmindedly pities the poor guy who looks as starstruck as Jimin himself was when Taehyung first approached him.

He can finally leave after almost an hour of questions, and his feet hurt like hell from standing for so long, and his jaw feels tense from him having to smile all the time. He redirects the reporters on other actors and escapes to the bar, where Taehyung is pouting like someone just stole a lifetime worth of his Christmas presents.

“Are you upset they weren’t as smitten with you as usual?” Jimin wonders, finally sitting down and ordering himself a drink.

“What?” Taehyung turns to him with a frown but then realizes what he meant, his face clearing. “Nah, I got my share of attention from them,” he points to the reporters, “but not him.”

Jimin follows his gaze and spots the idol he was talking to earlier. The kid, who looks barely twenty, is chatting with another attending idol at the other end of the bar, his laughter so loud they can hear it from here.

“He turned me down,” Taehyung reveals. “Me. Turned down. By some idol kid who barely has two albums out.”

“I don’t even know who he is,” Jimin confesses with a frown. “Is he any good?”

“Extremely,” Taehyung huffs. “His name is Jeon Jeongguk. He’s half of the Euphoria duo. The guy next to him is Kim Seokjin, the other half.”

“They sound familiar,” Jimin muses, studying Seokjin’s face. He looks older than Jeongguk but they strangely fit together.

“You definitely heard their debut single,” Taehyung assures him, throwing his drink back. “It was everywhere. Epiphany.”

Now that Jimin remembers instantly.

“Shit, I loved it,” he says under his breath. “Can we talk to them?”

“What?” Taehyung exclaims, appalled. “The kid turned me down, Jimin. I asked him out, and he said he’d rather walk down Times Square stark naked while belting out my debut single.”

Jimin snorts, recalling the particular brand of hate Taehyung has reserved for his first album. It brought him recognition, yes, but it was filled with bubblegum pop so sweet he still cringes when someone mentions it, even years later. After its release and success, he insisted on having more creative freedom coming forward, and somehow, his management allowed it. Jimin reckons they don’t regret it now, considering their net worth consists primarily of Taehyung’s.

“So you hate him now?” Jimin guesses with a smile.

“No, my dear Jiminnie,” Taehyung announces pompously, slapping his shoulder. “I am vowing right the fuck now that one day, I’m going to marry that kid.”

“He’s not that younger than you,” Jimin notes absentmindedly. “Also, bold coming from you. Aren’t you against marriage?”

“I’m against the industry setting me up with some respectable businessman they think I can be perfect arm candy for,” Taehyung clarifies. “But this guy? This is it, Jiminnie, this is my endgame.”

“You’re drunk.” Jimin laughs openly now, amused to no end.

“And you’re going to be my best man,” Taehyung announces, wiggling his eyebrows. “I’m announcing you my bestie, Park Jimin.”

“I really don’t mind, Kim Taehyung,” Jimin says overdramatically, pressing his hand over his heart. “It’s an honor.”

Taehyung bursts out laughing, his rectangular smile catching a few flashes of the nearby photographers. He throws his head back, and Jimin doesn’t miss the way mister Jeon Jeongguk is staring at his neck from across the bar, his friend rolling his eyes at him. Jimin thinks Jeongguk needs to at least close his mouth, or some of those shots in tomorrow’s news will look extremely incriminating.

Jimin sips on his drink while Taehyung babbles away about the people around the bar, various celebrities gathered here for free booze and praise. Taehyung introduces him to some people he deems normal in the industry, and Jimin does the whole shaking hands and exchanging smiles. Even though it sometimes seems too artificial, he’s still enjoying it.

And maybe, if he misses a certain someone next to him, it’s okay. He’s getting used to the feeling.

7

December 2013

“And the award for the Best New Artist Award goes to… Skit!”

Yoongi doesn’t think he’s breathing as they go up on stage and accept the award, Namjoon’s acceptance speech seeming a faraway blur that he’s watching from his basement on a phone, and not from next to the man itself. It doesn’t really process that he’s the one who contributed to receiving this award, that he is receiving this award, holy shit.

He thinks he’s crying. Hobi definitely is, clutching Yoongi’s sleeve, his face hidden in Yoongi’s jacket, and Namjoon is calling for them to huddle, and Yoongi walks up to the mic as if someone else is controlling his body. Namjoon lets him take the award, and Yoongi wraps his numb fingers around the handle, staring at it in disbelief. They won this. He won this. Seven months in, just back from their first tour, and they won the motherfucking Best New Artist award.

He wants more, he realizes with a greedy drunk vigor later at the party, as he watches people around them get pissed and make connections, talk and laugh, congratulate and say the obligatory ‘sorry’s’. He wants more, and he will get more, because they deserve it, because they’ve been working non-stop since this whole thing started, and they’re not planning to stop. He already sees the outlines of the next album and its energy, the vibe they’ll bring to the industry, the change they’ll headline.

And then he sees Jimin by the entrance and every thought about his music flies right out.

He crushes into him with all the strength his extremely drunk and euphoric form can master, but it doesn’t seem to be that much, because Jimin laughs loudly into his ear, wrapping his arms around Yoongi’s waist and twirling them around. He yells his congratulations, and Yoongi barely hears them, suddenly obsessed with a desire to kiss the shit out of this guy.

“I love you,” he blurts out, but it comes out so incomprehensible that Jimin just frowns at him, turning his ear closer to Yoongi to hear him over the music. Yoongi gets distracted by the shape of his earlobe and bites it in a spur of playfulness.

“You asshole,” Jimin gasps, hitting him on the shoulder, but there’s no real anger there. His hands are still around Yoongi.

Yoongi stares at him in wonder. “I didn’t know you’d be here,” he slurs.

“Neither did I.” Jimin shrugs with a smile. “Taehyung smuggled me in.”

Yoongi frowns. He knows all about Taehyung. Saw enough tabloid stories and articles about the friendship Kim Taehyung struck up with his rookie costar. He also heard and read enough about him from Jimin himself, their texting session almost always bringing Taehyung up. Jimin is whipped for the guy, but Yoongi keeps telling himself that friendship is all there is.

“Where’s Taehyung?” He murmurs, looking around.

Jimin shrugs, his eyes never leaving Yoongi’s face. “Stalking Jeongguk, probably. It’s his favorite activity lately.”

Yoongi snorts. His knees suddenly give out, and he almost falls, but Jimin catches him, and Yoongi gratefully tucks himself into Jimin’s embrace. Jimin softly sighs and kisses his forehead. It’s nice.

Someone proposes to move the party somewhere more private, but Yoongi is so wasted he just clings to Jimin and hopes to end up somewhere near his home. Luck seems to be in love with him lately, because when he sobers up a little and manages to assess his surroundings, he finds that they’re at the Skit dorms. That someone who proposed the moving was probably Namjoon. God, Yoongi loves Namjoon. He’s smart as fuck.

He stays glued to Jimin’s side all throughout the night, ignoring suggestive looks from his so-called friends. Other rappers and artists, some of them even big names in the industry, and once upon a time he dreamed about being in one room with them, but if they’re going to be looking at him like that when he’s snuggling up to his actor best friend, fuck them all.

Jimin seems not to mind his new attachment, striking up conversations left and right even as he passes drinks to Yoongi and makes sure he’s having a good time. That’s his Jiminnie. Always the most caring social butterfly. Yoongi sighs dreamily, watching his face as he talks to someone named Kim Seokjin. That’s an idol, right? Eh, Yoongi doesn’t care. If Jimin’s talking to him, Yoongi likes him.

Around four in the morning, they somehow end up on the balcony. Yoongi’s cradling a glass of cold water and his award, and Jimin is cradling Yoongi. Nice arrangement, if you ask Yoongi.

“You deserve it, hyung,” Jimin whispers into his ear from where he’s sat behind Yoongi, Yoongi’s tired body pressing into him. He’s soft. Yoongi likes it. “You deserve it and every award they ever give.”

“Shut up,” Yoongi murmurs, but it still makes him feel warm all over. “I miss you.”

Jimin sighs and kisses his cheek, brushing his fingers over Yoongi’s. “Me too. Terribly.”

Yoongi swallows, setting the glass down and takes his hand. “You seem to be doing amazing, though.”

“Eh, not bad for silly old me,” Jimin chuckles. “The show is doing amazing. They’re doing the second season. We start shooting next month.”

Yoongi frowns, unsettled by something in his voice, and turns around as much as he can without losing too much of the contact. Jimin looks sad. “You don’t sound so excited.”

Jimin’s eyes widen as he shakes his head. “Oh no, I am, I swear. I love the show and the people, and it’s bringing me exposure I could never imagine. Like, they’re inviting me to all kinds of shows and shit. Sometimes, even without Taehyung.”

“Yeah, because they’re interested in you,” Yoongi grunts, feeling extremely proud of his baby chick. “As they should be. You’re exceptional.”

He expects Jimin to tell him to shut up like he always does, but Jimin just stares at him silently, his eyes glowing. “Thank you, hyung. But I kind of… Want more.”

Yoongi smiles. “Of course you do, I raised you right.”

“You’re a year older than me, shut up,” Jimin snorts, rolling his eyes. “And what I mean is… I kinda… I don’t know, I think that maybe I want to sing.”

Yoongi almost drops his award with how quickly he gets up to turn around completely. In the end, he carefully puts it aside and sits up on his knees before Jimin, ending up extremely close to his face as he’s still not in good touch with his coordination.

“Then sing,” he says heatedly. “Your voice is the most fantastic thing to come to this earth since strawberry Pop Tarts.”

Jimin laughs a little hysterically, his eyes watering, and wipes at his face. “You’re flattering me.”

“I swear I’m not,” Yoongi rushes to say. “Please, let me set you up with some people, eh? You’ll talk about starting your singing career, and they’ll provide you with…”

“Hyung, wait,” Jimin says, putting his fingers over Yoongi’s lips. “I’m not saying I want to do it right now. I still need to get a little more exposure with the show, and maybe do a few other dramas, or maybe some dance competition. I don’t know. The point is, I’m not nearly ready to enter the idol industry yet. I need more time, you know?”

Yoongi pouts, but doesn’t contradict. He understands what Jimin isn’t saying. He’s still a bit scared. And well, Yoongi has known him his whole life, and if someone knows Park Jimin better than he knows himself, it’s Yoongi. And Yoongi knows about Jimin’s insecurities too well.

“I know,” he whispers. “But just know that I’m grabbing the first collab as soon as you debut.”

Jimin laughs, his eyes disappearing as he tilts his head to hide it. “Okay, idiot, I’ll let you ruin your career by collaborating with me.”

“No, fuck them all,” Yoongi blurts out, still riding on all the cocktails. “We don’t care what they’re saying, Jimin, if we want to collab with idols, we will. The system is bullshit, and it’s about time someone changes it. Skit was founded with this explicit purpose. And I would be more than ecstatic to have you alongside me.”

Jimin’s lower lip starts shaking as his eyes take in Yoongi’s face, something so bright and familiar in them it takes Yoongi’s breath away.

“You’re brilliant, baby chick,” he whispers, the air charged with something he can’t figure out. “I’ve been telling you since forever — your voice is amazing. If I could, I’d put you on every track I ever produce, baby. You’re exactly the person I want to hear sing every day of my life.”

Jimin’s smile falls away, his eyes wide as he takes Yoongi’s words in.

Suddenly, he’s so close Yoongi sees how blown his irises are, but before he can process it, Jimin’s lips are next to his, his breath tasting of orange juice and vodka, and it’s somehow funny and exciting. Yoongi searches his face for something he isn’t sure of, but Jimin is looking at him like he already has everything figured out, and all Yoongi has to do to get the answers is kiss him.

So he does. He leans in, pressing their lips together, his fingers digging into Jimin’s shoulders. He feels Jimin’s hands on his back, gently pressing him closer, and gets lost in the kiss, not even fully realizing it’s something he’s wanted since he was fourteen and first admitting he had a crush on his best friend.

It doesn’t last long because they’re both drunk, but it’s still probably the best thing to ever happen in Yoongi’s life. And he just won a motherfucking award. Jimin looks scared when Yoongi opens his eyes, but he doesn’t let it linger, kissing him again.

The sun is slowly rising on their left, painting the yet-sleeping Seoul with orange and red, but if you ask Yoongi, it’s still not the most breathtaking view. He touches Jimin’s cheek and thinks reverently that nobody and nothing will ever leave him as breathless as this boy.

They stay there until the people inside start waking up, and Yoongi doesn’t want to let him go even if his lips are numb already, but Jimin just laughs into his hair and whispers that they both have work to do. Jimin is supposed to be on set this afternoon for some pre-shooting preparations, and Yoongi is supposed to be working on their album, and they both still need to sleep a bit before that.

Yoongi calls him a cab and makes him promise to text Yoongi when he’s home, and Jimin nods with another kiss and a smile so bright it blinds Yoongi for a second. He doesn’t ask what they are, doesn’t want to ruin it, but Jimin’s eyes say it all anyway. He lets him drive away and stands on the curb for another five minutes, unable to stop smiling like the drunken sleep-deprived mess he is.

Things are really going perfectly, aren’t they? There’s an anxious tugging feeling at the back of his mind, reminding him that it just doesn’t go like this, but he ignores it. He’s happy. He just won the Best New Artist award and kissed a person that may be the love of his life. It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.

8

February 2014

It only lasts for two months. In retrospective, Yoongi should have known. Nothing ever goes flawlessly.

They spend New Year’s together, and it’s the best night of Yoongi’s life. Waking up next to Jimin and knowing he’s allowed to kiss his naked shoulder, knowing he’s the reason Jimin is even in his bed naked, knowing how Jimin sounds and feels, knowing Jimin like he’s never known him before — it’s something Yoongi doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to describe.

January feels like a dream, with every day filled with laughter and kisses, and Jimin being loud and all over the place until he has to start shooting. The day he gets called away comes faster that Yoongi would wish, but he has to prepare for a comeback anyway, so they promise to meet as often as they can, even if they both understand their lives are about to become as busy as ever. But it’s okay, Jimin promises. They have the rest of their lives.

They keep texting and calling each other, and one time Jimin surprises him by arriving at the studio to make Yoongi eat something that doesn’t come in styrofoam and give him a kiss before he has to leave again. He ends up staying for another hour, with them making out on the couch and Skit’s new album playing on loop. Jimin whispers that he loves it, and Yoongi wants to tell him he loves Jimin, but he doesn’t want to jinx it. They still don’t talk about what they are, even after eight weeks, and Jimin leaves with a promise to meet up as soon as they both can.

It’s nearing five in the morning, their single is supposed to be released by midday, and Yoongi is still in the studio, tweaking and perfecting it, never fully satisfied. They’ve been teasing their new album to be something fresh for ages now, and he doesn’t want people to think they were just bragging, but the more he listens to it, the more generic it seems. Namjoon and Hoseok left two hours ago, barely awake, assuring Yoongi they’ll support whatever he decides to release. They’re all producers here, but they trust Yoongi the most, and if he thinks the song is good it means that it’s perfect.

He can barely keep his eyes open, but he still stays there, adding and deleting parts of it, never fully satisfied. Around six, he suddenly remembers something.

He changed his equipment a few weeks ago, finally having enough money for things he really wanted, but he never got around to transferring everything from the hard drive to the new computer. He rummages through the shelves in his table now, searching for it, and feels a sudden burst of inspiration.

So Far Away is the first one he goes to when he loads up the drive. He lets it play and leans back in his chair, closing his eyes and listening to Jimin’s voice lead the song. God, he sounds fucking amazing. They recorded it around a year ago, and he never had any training, but he still sounds like an angel. In Yoongi’s opinion, he doesn’t even need professional training, fuck, he was born with a voice that can hypnotize anyyone. He thinks about Jimin’s words and bites his lip, fighting with the desire to text him and once again go on a rant about how the entire world chanting Jimin’s name won’t be enough to truly express the admiration he deserves.

He knows his opinion is backed by the fact he’s desperately in love with him, but still. Jimin can give any song life, and the longer he stays away from becoming an idol, the more this goddamn industry is losing.

The song comes to an end and he opens his eyes, feeling more at peace than he’s been in hours. He knows what he has to do now.

He opens the editor again and adds the notes he can feel forming at the back of his mind, finally bringing the song to its perfect form. By the time he’s done, his body is barely managing to stay upright. He saves the project and waits for the song to finish rendering while he’s making himself some tea.

The screen seems blurry when he comes back, and he contemplates stapling his eyes open while he opens the email to their manager and attaches the song to release in a few hours. His limbs are heavy, and he tiredly drags the file into the attachment field.

‘the title is in the name of the file. just release it how it is.’

When he’s sure the email is sent, he finally allows himself to fall on the couch and close his eyes. He’s too tired to get home, and it’s not his first time sleeping at the studio, so to fuck with it. As he drifts off, he thinks that by the time he wakes up, everybody will have already listened to it. He smiles at that and falls asleep.

///

Yoongi is woken up by the persistent ring of his phone somewhere on the floor. He groans awake, rubbing his eyes and throwing a glance at the clock on the wall. Six in the evening. Shit. The single has been out for hours now, and he’s supposed to tweet something about it.

He almost falls down when standing up, his body stiff and whining after sleeping in his day clothes. The phone vibrated itself under the couch, and he fishes for it while forcing his mind to cooperate.

The door to the studio opens exactly when he finally grips the phone and pulls it out.

“What the hell, Yoongi?” Hoseok screams from the entrance, and Yoongi flinches at his volume. “You brilliant bastard.”

Yoongi frowns at him, propping his back against the couch. Namjoon walks in right behind Hoseok, a mildly amused expression on his face.

“I appreciate your initiative,” he starts, coming closer and sitting down. “But in the future, please consult with us on this.”

“Excuse me?” Yoongi murmurs. His phone is still ringing, but his eyesight is too blurry to make out who’s calling. He looks around for his glasses.

“I mean, it worked out perfectly this time, but it was a risky move. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t make such decisions on your own.” Namjoon continues, unaware of Yoongi barely comprehending his words. “And Jimin, that bastard! I talked to him two days ago, and he didn’t say anything.”

At that, Yoongi finally wakes up fully, staring at Namjoon. “What?”

Hoseok sits down on Namjoon’s other side, leaning on his knees to look at Yoongi on the floor. “You had to get his permission, right?”

Yoongi rubs his eyes, getting gradually annoyed with every second. “What the hell are you talking about? Shit, I need to turn on my computer. Is Tear doing well?”

It’s suddenly so silent he feels his skin crawl. He gets his hand out of his face to look at Namjoon and Hoseok. They’re staring at him with twin blank expressions. “What?”

“You didn’t release Tear, Yoon,” Hoseok says carefully.

Yoongi freezes, terror shooting through him. His mouth suddenly feels too dry. He shoots up from the floor and wakes up his computer, jerkingly opening his mail and almost breaking the mouse while he waits for it to load with how hard he’s gripping it. Namjoon and Hoseok are silent, and he’s half-grateful and half-angry. If his tired ass didn’t attach Tear, then what?

The email loads up, finally, and he clicks on it so fast he misses it the first time. He sees the body of the message with his request to title it according to its name, and then he sees the attachment itself.

He feels all blood leave his face as he falls on his chair in shock. He didn’t send them Tear. He stares at the file, his hands shaking as he clicks on it to check. It starts playing, and the voice coming from the speakers cuts into his brain like knives.

“It was an accident,” he whispers almost inaudibly.

His foggy mind doesn’t even register when Hoseok comes up to the computer and opens the charts, but the song headlining them barrels into his brain like a train.

So Far Away (feat. baby chick) is everywhere. Not only the Korean rapping charts, but on American Global, too. Hoseok keeps opening the tabs, and it’s there — it’s trending, charting, blowing up, even six hours after release, it’s everywhere, and he can’t fucking breathe.

“I swear, I didn’t mean to,” he mumbles, close to tears. He feels Namjoon’s hand on his shoulder. “I must’ve been so tired I dragged the wrong file, holy shit, I’m so sorry, guys, I’m so…”

“Hey, Yoongi, it’s okay,” Namjoon rushes to say. “They’re loving it. And we teased something like that for ages. I didn’t think we were ready to actually release it, but hey, it turned out for the best.”

“You’re not mad?” Yoongi whispers, his lips numb, and looks up at them.

Hoseok snorts and waves it off. “We just doubled our sales and popularity with just one single, hyung. I ain’t mad, that’s for sure.”

“It’s okay, I promise,” Namjoon says, and it seems sincere, even if there’s worry hidden deep in his eyes. “It may have been an accident, but hey. That’s how all the great discoveries are made, right?”

Yoongi suddenly feels so relieved he almost falls down on the floor again, but he doesn’t get to. His phone rings again, and as he looks at the caller, the fear and dread come back full force. Because the guys might be okay with his mistake, but there’s one more person he didn’t count in.

“How fucking could you,” Jimin seethes as soon as Yoongi picks up, and he can’t even say a word, because six hours of being ignored definitely shortened Jimin’s already small fuse. “How could you do it to me, Yoongi, fucking hell, I don’t even have words—”

“It was a mistake, Jiminnie,” Yoongi tries to interrupt, but Jimin is unstoppable now, even if he stated a second earlier that he doesn’t have words.

“I tell you about my most secret fucking dream, and ask you not to get involved, to give me time, and you pretend you understand, only to go and do this two months later?” His voice is so high Yoongi feels genuinely terrified, because he’s never heard him this mad. “What was it for, huh? You thought you’d discover me, or some shit like that? Help me break out with your fame? When I told you it’s the last thing I want? When I told you I’m not fucking ready? They’re all talking about it, Yoongi, people are swarming my socials because they think it’s me, they’re putting together clips of me singing at some interview and my parts in the song, and guess what, huh? It is me, for fuck’s sake! You thought you were being clever by giving me a pseudonym? Might have stated my name outright, why didn’t you? Fuck.”

He breathes heavily, and Yoongi tries to say something, but his throat is too tight, suffocated by guilt and confusion.

“I swear, Jiminnie, it was a mistake,” he repeats, close to tears.

“Like hell it was,” Jimin grunts. “It’s what you do, isn’t it? You think you can always take care of me, save me, promote me. Well, fuck you, Min Yoongi. Fuck you. Do whatever the hell you want with that song, but don’t you ever dare bring me up. Make up a story, I don’t care. Never mention me, and never call me again. I can’t believe I almost— Never mind. Fuck. I hate you. Fuck you, Yoongi.”

“Jimin, I’m—”

The line cuts off, and he sits there, his phone still pressed to his ear, staring at the charts. Jimin’s words ring in his ears, and he can’t shake them out, can’t get rid of the clear and high I hate you. He tries to tell himself Jimin is just angry, and he’ll come around, he’ll forgive him, and… Will he, though?

An eternity passes until he can move again, but in reality, it was barely a minute. He looks up at the guys again and guesses they heard everything by the uncomfortable expressions on their faces.

“I fucked up,” he whispers hoarsely.

“He’s being unreasonable,” Hoseok speaks up, but Yoongi shoots him such a scolding gaze he promptly shuts up.

“He’ll calm down,” Namjoon says, but there’s no real conviction in his voice. “And it’ll all be alright.”

Yoongi nods, not really believing him, and looks at the screen again, watching the song’s live-count go up. “We need to release Tear,” he proposes. “To get the heat off of the…” He can’t even say it out loud, fuck. “And we have everything scheduled for it, not for that one. We’ll just say it was a bonus.”

Namjoon sighs deeply but doesn’t contradict. “If you think that’s for the best, hyung. But we'll still be asked about it, you know it.”

“I’ll take those myself,” Yoongi promises, still not fully processing the situation. All he can think about is Jimin and his words. “I fucked up, and I’ll handle it myself.”

“Nah.” Hoseok comes closer and lands on Yoongi’s lap, hugging him so tightly Yoongi chokes up. “We’re in this together, hyung. Until the end.”

Yoongi hesitates for a moment before hugging him back. Namjoon’s hand is still on his shoulder, and he takes it all in, enjoys their presence and support. It makes everything a bit more bearable.

Even if his heart is bleeding for someone who may never want to talk to him again.

9

March 2014

Taehyung opens the door. Yoongi supposes he shouldn’t be surprised. He sighs.

“Is he here?” He asks quietly, even if it’s obvious he is. It’s his apartment for fuck’s sake, he doubts Taehyung would be hanging out here without him.

“He doesn’t want to see you,” Taehyung says just as quietly. To Yoongi’s surprise, there’s no animosity in his voice. Pity, maybe, yeah, but no anger.

“His words or yours?” Yoongi wonders.

Taehyung rolls his eyes. “My words, his sentiment,” he clears up. “Dude, trust me, I would gladly lock you two in one room and not let you out until you sort your shit out, but… Not now. It’s too soon.”

“It’s been a month,” Yoongi snaps. “He blocked me everywhere and keeps avoiding me whenever I come here.”

“That fucking song is still charting,” Taehyung says heatedly. “He can’t go a day without someone asking him if he’s baby chick. Which, by the way? Atrocious.”

“He always liked that nickname,” Yoongi murmurs, a little offended.

“Well, I’m guessing having it as a nickname your best friend gives you and having the entire world calling you that on a hunch are two different things,” Taehyung announces sarcastically, his arms crossed over his chest.

He’s leaning against the doorframe, and Yoongi tries to look inside, but Taehyung blocks his view. “I think you better try later.”

Yoongi sighs and curses softly, rubbing his eyes. “Could you at least give him a message from me?”

Taehyung purses his lips and looks Yoongi over, but sighs and shrugs. “Shoot.”

“I swear it was a mistake,” Yoongi starts. “I was working late, and the deadline was pressing me to the wall. I couldn’t get the song perfectly, and I started listening to my old work for inspiration. It helped. Hearing Jimin’s voice helped. I finished Tear and went to send it, but I was so tired I accidentally attached a file from another open folder. So I sent it without even checking and went to sleep. By the time I woke up, it was already everywhere.”

Taehyung measures him with an unimpressed gaze. “That’s such a rookie mistake.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” Yoongi seethes. “Just tell him that, okay?”

“Fine,” Taehyung breathes out.

Yoongi suddenly feels wary of him. What if he decides to protect Jimin in some stupid way and not give him the message verbatim? Taehyung doesn’t look like your typical k-drama villain, but he’s known to be eccentric and disobedient.

Taehyung must sense his thoughts because he clicks his tongue. “Relax, will you? I’ll tell him everything, promise. I care about little Chim, and even my nihilistic ass can see he’s happiest when he’s with you. I’d rather have this misunderstanding cleared out as soon as possible than see him moping and crying.”

“Thank you,” Yoongi says quietly. “I really appreciate it. I hope he can forgive me.”

“He will,” Taehyung assures him. “Just give him a week or two.”

///

September 2014

As it turns out, Taehyung was wrong.

The first time Yoongi hears from Jimin, or rather about Jimin, is seven months later. They’re watching the Korea Drama Awards, and the cast of Jimin’s show comes on stage to accept an award. Yoongi stares at his happy face and feels utterly miserable. Ten minutes later, Taehyung comes up on the stage to accept Best Leading Actor. He flashes his signature smile and a peace sign to someone in the audience, and Yoongi doesn’t have to be psychic to know who that is. Five awards later, and Jimin himself gets up to receive Best Supporting Actor, and they let him do a longer speech since it’s his first time, and in the span of the past year, he became Korea’s favorite sunshine.

He smiles at the camera and thanks everyone for the support. Announces they’re doing the third season, and he’ll be back to entertain them in no time. Teases something new coming from him and leaves the stage accompanied by deafening applause.

Yoongi realizes he’s almost crying and takes a deep breath, already opening his phone to text congratulations when he remembers Jimin has his number blocked. He still types out a message, cursing himself for how stiff it sounds, and sends it, expecting it to get stuck in the void, just like dozens of previous ones were. He almost drops his phone when he sees a grey ‘Delivered’ under his text. So Jimin unblocked him.

He spends two more hours obsessively checking his phone, but nothing happens until almost midnight, when he chokes seeing ‘Read’ under his blue cloud. He waits eagerly for three dots to appear, but they never do.

He snaps and sends another one — ‘can’t wait to see what else you have prepared. I’m sure it will be brilliant. because you are, baby chick’. It switches to ‘Read’ immediately, and he imagines Jimin staring at his phone just like Yoongi is staring at his, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. Three dots appear just for a fraction of a second, but it’s enough to almost give Yoongi a heart attack. They never appear again.

Two weeks later, Park Jimin announces that he is entering the idol stage with his debut single Serendipity. Yoongi feels like shit but pre-saves it and gets ready to promote it whenever he can. Jimin may not want his help, but nobody can forbid him from supporting someone he likes.

Someone he loves. Even if they don’t want him to.

It drops when he’s on tour in Japan, and he goes on stage late because he spent half an hour in his dressing room unsuccessfully trying to stop crying. Even while he’s rapping, his verse comes out automatically, because his mind still plays Serendipity on loop.

you know, I know

He doesn’t want to get too full of himself. He doesn’t want to think it’s about him. He doesn’t want to know. The credits say Jimin wrote the lyrics, but he doesn’t want it to be true.

And so he carries on. Texts Jimin the obligatory congrats and confesses how much he loves the song. Jimin leaves him on read once again, but something in Yoongi feels it’s not long now until he finally forgives him.

He keeps remembering their first kiss and wondering if it would be easier to handle the separation if he never knew how Park Jimin feels against his body at four in the morning, when neither of them is bothered by the outside world. When all there is are the two of them.

The album follows a week later, and it settles nicely against Skit’s latest EP on US charts. Yoongi feels smug watching Jimin’s single beating his own songs, and he’s supposed to be angry, but he just can’t. Jimin deserves to be on every first spot. He loves the fact everybody loves Jimin.

Of course, they still don’t know what it’s like to be loved by Jimin.

As time passes and Jimin doesn’t return his texts, Yoongi starts wondering if he knows how it feels, after all.

10

October 2014

[Transcripted extract from Skit live video interview for Dispatch.]

Interviewer: Now that we’ve spoiled enough of your next comeback to your fans, let’s take a little trip to the past. It has been exactly a year since the release of your critically acclaimed single So Far Away. A mysterious collaboration that has left fans and critics alike baffled, as you never confirmed or denied anyone’s involvement in the song.

Min Yoongi: I guess I should take this one. SFA was… I’ve said this before, it was as much of a surprise to us as it was to fans. It was just there. I didn’t know I was going to release it until I had already sent it in.

I.: Tear was supposed to come out instead, wasn’t it?

M.Y.: Yeah, like I said, we were as surprised as everybody else. Tear was exactly the level of change we wanted to bring into the album, the milestone we had to cross, you know? I mean, it fulfilled its purpose quite well, albeit a week later.

I.: Yes, truly. You were called lunatics and geniuses alike.

M.Y. [laughs, looking at his bandmates]: We were actually really flattered by that.

Kim Namjoon: We still are.

I.: Alright, but all that was said a hundred times before me. Let’s talk about something you always avoid, changing the topic like you did just now.

Jung Hoseok [smirks off-camera]: Weren’t we supposed to approve these questions?

[General laughter. Min Yoongi is looking at his lap, not smiling.]

I.: Still. At least tell me why this topic is such a taboo?

M.Y.: It’s not. Call it our flair for mystery. Some things are better left unspoken, aren’t they?

I.: They are. But the song is still charting, a year later. It’s a running joke in your fandom. No matter what you release, So Far Away comes back to the top.

M.Y.: Yes, she does. I’m rather proud of that.

I.: Is the mysterious baby chick as proud?

M.Y.: I would rather not have you call him that.

I.: So it’s a him.

M.Y. [fidgets in his seat]: Wasn’t it obvious?

I.: Not really. The voice is quite unique, and there’s a lot of rendering—

M.Y.: There’s not. It’s purely him.

I. [chuckles]: I see. So, was that mysterious him happy about the song’s success? He never spoke up.

M.Y.: There was a reason for that, obviously. You have any other questions?

I.: Okay. Was it Park Jimin?

M.Y.: ...That seems to be a popular theory.

I.: For good reasons. I can’t even begin to tell you how many fan-videos there are comparing his singing to the artist in SFA. Their quantity and quality doubled after he became an idol.

M.Y.: Yes, I listened to his album. He has another coming out quite soon, doesn’t he? An extremely talented person, I might say. I’d even go as far as naming him my favorite artist on the idol scene.

I.: It’s uncommon for rappers to express open admiration for idols.

M.Y.: Ask me if I give a [censored]. I think it’s about time we stop fooling ourselves by trying to divide two equally vast and bright scenes. That’s what we’ve been doing with our latest album, and the one coming soon. And it’s having an impact, everybody can see that. Take Jackson Wang and Lee Taeyong, their latest singles are a beautiful example of how well singing and rapping can go in one song, and not just that lame and lazy excuse that came before. It’s changing, finally after years of stagnating, and I think you should talk about that rather than some gossipy [censored] that’s older than the takeout in my fridge.

J.H.: [...]

K.N.: [...]

I.: I think we can end here.

M.Y.: You think? That’s new.

[Transcription ends.]

///

@yoongisfa: i cant believe they did THAT live,., yoongi was MAD mad

@chanjinbinz: are we surprised? it’s dispatch. they exist to paint him as that cold rude bitch

@yoongisfa: tru dat. the way he dragged that interviewer tho. imagine Yoongi looking at you like THAT I’d evaporate right then and there

@chanjinbinz: she highkey deserved it. he’s clearly uncomfortable with talking about it, my boy changed the topic TWICE and she still insisted on her clownery

[...]

@multishmulti: [pulls out a 134340 pages essay on why we are NEVER asking Yoongi about SFA again until he speaks out about it himself because he’s obviously upset about it]

@minungi: I support I swear I do BUT can we talk about the fact he never actually answered the question,,,,,,neither confirmed nor denied it was Jimin, ONCE AGAIN

@multishmulti: dm. we move in silence

[...]

@bbiegoogie: I know we’re all still shook by Skit’s interview, but may I remind you we have another dispatch one with Jimin coming out in two hours. it’s the same chick

@multishmulti: how tf do you get that info. nobody ever said it’s the same interviewer?

@bbiegoogie: idk just a hunch. anyway you think he’ll blow up like that too?

@multishmulti: he’s never been asked before as far as I can remember. I guess he’s been censoring his questions too but this one is live so we’ll see

[...]

@parkchim: [stares into the void] it’s been two hours but I still can’t stop thinking about yoog praising Jimin even while being mad af [keeps staring into the void]

[...]

@RealMinYoongi [verified]: wish everybody minded their own fucking business. stream Serendipity. Yoongi out.

[564,5k likes] | [365,9k retweets] | [637k replies]

[...]

@multishmulti: @parkchim move I need to stare into your void

///

[Transcripted extract from Park Jimin’s live video interview for Dispatch.]

Interviewer: So, to summarize, your show is doing amazing, your album is still everywhere, and the new one will come after the single Lie.

Park Jimin: That was a sufficient summary. Don’t know what I sat here for an hour for.

I. [strained laughter]: Yeah, pretty much. Anyway, we seem to be taking memory trips today. Do you know who I interviewed in this same room a few hours ago?

P.J. [smiles politely]: I’d lie, but I had the misfortune of looking at my Twitter mentions before this thing. So yeah, I know.

I.: Have you watched it?

P.J.: I… Had better things to do. But once again, looking through Twitter gave me a pretty good idea of what went down.

I.: Those rappers, huh?

P.J.: [polite smile]

I.: You know what I’m gonna ask, aren’t you?

P.J.: I have a guess but I hope I’m wrong.

I.: So Far Away. Was it you?

P.J.: Was it me what?

I.: Come on, you know what! Guys, roll it out!

[The screen behind Park Jimin lights up, showing side-by-side clips. The first one starts playing, a recording of a song from Park’s debut album. It ends, and the second one — an extract from So Far Away — plays. As soon as it ends, the picture switches to a low-quality photo of Park Jimin hugging someone who looks a lot like Min Yoongi, taken at the last year MAMA Awards after-party, but it’s hard to tell for sure due to darkness and distance. The next one is a screenshot of Min Yoongi’s tweet from three years ago: baby chick refuses to bring food to me im angery, with a reply from user @jompork, since deactivated: get up yourself you idiot im tired after practice.]

I.: So?

P.J.: So? That looks like an amateur low-budget YouTube found-footage project. I don’t see how it all comes together.

I.: Come on! Break the silence! Everybody already knows it’s you, we just need either of you to admit it.

P.J.: Any chance you have questions about songs I actually care about? If not, I believe it is time for us to wrap it up.

I.: Fine! But one day...

[Transcription ends.]

///

@moonsugabin: well that was…,,,,,,ngl I just wanted to check out the dude yoongi talked about but now I gotta stan. that rbf was Wild

@multishmulti: I see another multi I welcome thee come inside feel yourself at home we have Jimin’s angelic voice and bitchy personality

@moonsugabin: tbh I always saw him as this too-sweet guy maybe I just had wrong content on my tl

@multishmulti: oh he’s THE sweetest. but he also doesn’t take any bullshit. he pops off at least once a week.

@moonsugabin: wait was he the dude that went viral for pushing some transphobic producer into a chocolate fountain? that was legendary.

@multishmulti: yup. wouldn’t expect anything else from yoogi’s supposed best friend

@moonsugabin: wait what

@multishmulti: whew y’all on the rapping twt are always behind on tea. open your dms

[...]

@ParkJimin0513 [verified]: I can't free myself from this lie, give me back my laughter.

[253,5k likes] | [142,9k retweets] | [241k replies]

11

November 2014

Jimin officially admits to himself that he’s losing it when he buys a second phone for the sole purpose of stalking Yoongi’s socials.

He stares at it, a brand-new box still neatly wrapped in plastic lying in the passenger seat. The logo is judging him, he’s sure of it. Well, it’s not the only one. Taehyung is the proud founder of the Judging Jimin club, and don’t even get Jimin started on the opinion he has about himself.

But it’s better. It’s better to have a new phone and create new accounts. It’s safer than accidentally liking something or forgetting to switch accounts when he wants to comment on something without anybody knowing it’s actually him. Because as far as the rest of the world is concerned, there is nothing connecting Park Jimin and Min Yoongi except a fan theory that has a life cycle of two months, after which it dies down only to be revived when one of them releases something.

Pathetic. He is pathetic.

“I am pathetic,” he says to himself in the mirror. The mirror doesn’t have any counter-arguments, so he pokes his tongue at it and drives on, the light finally switching to green.

He rounds the corner to the studio and almost crashes into a crowd, hitting the breaks so fast the new phone flies to the floor. He jerks around to check if he didn’t cause an accident, but the road is clear. Jimin breathes out a sigh of relief and turns back to the road.

A second later, the crowd parts to reveal Kim Taehyung in all his motherfucking glory, his bodyguards struggling to keep the fans away. Taehyung smiles and nods his way through the crowd, signing a few notebooks as he walks, and finally gets to the car, jumping into the passenger seat a second after Jimin picks up the box and throws it in the backseat.

The windows in his car are tinted, but a clear gap created by Taehyung opening the door reveals Jimin’s presence to the people, and a good deal of them start screaming their heads off. Taehyung slaps the door shut and leans back to breathe out.

“I thought I was supposed to pick you up downstairs,” Jimin grunts, pulling away, careful of any stray fans.

“Someone leaked that I’m recording again,” Taehyung puffs, fixing his hair. “So they all showed up, and I thought a few autographs wouldn’t hurt.”

“I almost ran over some of them,” Jimin murmurs, but Taehyung just rolls his eyes.

“That would’ve quenched your thirst for blood, hopefully.”

Jimin slaps his thigh and stops before a light. “So how was the session?”

“Dope.” Taehyung sniffs and pulls at his mask. “I, um, I met someone.”

Jimin freezes, staring straight ahead of him. “Yeah? Who?”

“You know,” Taehyung says quietly, picking at his jeans.

Jimin does. He isn’t supposed to, because Yoongi’s studio is across the town, and he has no business visiting Taehyung’s, but somehow, he knows.

“What was he doing there?” He asks softly.

“They all were. They… offered me a collab,” Taehyung shares so quietly it’s almost inaudible.

Jimin grits his teeth, traitorous tears stinging his eyes. He blinks quickly and presses the gas a little too harshly. The car jerks across a road walk but smooths out quickly as he calms himself.

“It will be their first,” he whispers. “He promised it to me.”

He sounds like a petty child, but it hurts so much he’s tempted to pull over and ask Taehyung to drive instead. A little ugly slump gathers inside, prickling at his lungs.

“It’s hard to get you to collab when you don’t pick up,” Taehyung reminds him, but it doesn’t sound reprimanding. Jimin wishes it did. “Besides, he did release a collab with you.”

Sadness gets replaced with anger so fast Jimin feels dizzy. “Thanks for the reminder.”

“It’s been a year.”

“This doesn’t have an expiration date, Taehyung,” he snaps. “You know why it hurt me so much.”

“Yeah, I do.” Taehyung looks at him so intently Jimin doesn’t have a choice but to look back when they get to another light. “But you know what hurts you more? Stalking the living shit out of him but refusing to actually fucking talk. And don’t give me that broken trust bullshit again. He explained what happened, I gave you his words ad fucking verbatim, but did you even entertain the option of forgiving him? No, instead you shut him out and pine like a kid. Fuck, Jimin, you wrote more songs about him this year than you said words to him.”

The tears are back, spilling over against Jimin’s will, and he turns back to the road. They ride in silence until they reach their apartment complex. Jimin stops the car but stays motionless, gripping the steering wheel.

“I’m not gonna apologize for what I said,” Taehyung speaks up quietly. “But I do regret putting it this harshly.”

Jimin deserves it, but he’ll go to hell and back before he admits it.

“Did you agree?” He asks without commenting on Tae’s speech. “To the collab?”

“I asked for some time to think. Wanted to talk to you,” Taehyung explains. “For what it’s worth, Yoongi looked like he’s eaten something extremely sour. He wishes it was you.”

“Don’t take it personally,” Jimin whispers, imagining how Yoongi looks now. Unguarded and without makeup, not through a camera lens, but real, before him. Fuck, he misses him.

“I don’t,” Taehyung assures. “But I also won’t agree until you give me the green light.”

Jimin turns to him, wiping at his cheeks. “Do you want to do it? Because if you do, I won’t stop you.”

Taehyung watches him carefully, sadness painted over his tired face, and sighs, reaching out to pinch Jimin’s chin. “I want you to be happy.”

“I’m happy,” Jimin whispers, even though he realizes his strained face and red eyes don’t really support his claim.

“You’re not,” Taehyung whispers back. “Talk to him, please.”

Jimin doesn’t know what to say.

It’s not about the song, not anymore. At this point, his anger is habit. Back when he’d just heard it, he felt like he was breaking down, all the worst-case scenarios playing out before him, the demons screaming at him in his sleep.

Yoongi doesn’t think you’re worth shit by yourself. Because you don’t. You can only achieve anything if someone pushes you along.

Then it passed. He released his album, and people loved it because it was purely him, and nobody brought up the Incident aside from his subconscious. By the time he was actually asked about it in an interview, he had already made a name for himself as an independent idol, but even so, he froze up and could barely answer anything. They cut that part out and Jimin cried himself to sleep.

Because now, a year later, he wishes he wouldn’t react like that. He wishes he would accept it, love it, praise it. He wishes he still had Yoongi in his life instead of acting like a pathetic obsessed fangirl.

“He hates me now, I reckon,” he chokes out, the tears coming again. “I’ve said so much shit to and about him in this past year while he was praising me whenever he could. That’s what makes me so fucking sad, Tae, he still does it, still supports and praises me even while I treat him like shit.”

“He’s a patient man,” Taehyung says, his hands reaching out to Jimin’s. “But one day, even he will get worn thin. And then, you’ll never forgive yourself.”

“I just need a little more time,” he whispers. “I’m scared he won’t even want to talk to me.”

“Well, not for a while,” Taehyung says, and there’s a twinkle of humor in his voice. “He forced a rundown of your life and state out of me today, so give him a week or two.”

Jimin laughs wetly, rubbing his lips and meeting Taehyung's eyes. “I don’t deserve a friend like you.”

“You deserve so much more than you think, baby,” Taehyung whispers, looking at Jimin like he hung the stars and made them shine. “Come on, let’s get take out and watch some Halloween movies.”

Despite Taehyung’s enormous television set and amazing food, Jimin never fully focuses on the movie throughout the evening. All he can think about is Min Yoongi and his inexplicable quality to always be the first thing on Jimin’s mind, even when it’s the last thing he wants.

He almost falls asleep, surrounded by warm blankets and Taehyung wrapped around him, when his phone suddenly goes off with a notification. The clock says it’s precisely midnight, and Jimin’s blood runs cold when he sees what it’s about. Taehyung looks at the screen leaning over his shoulder.

“Oh, yeah, Joon mentioned it today.”

“Excuse me?” Jimin screeches, jerking to look at him. “He mentioned Yoongi releasing a surprise song and you failed to mention it?!”

“Well, it was a surprise,” Taehyung grins unapologetically. “You’re gonna put it on, or?”

Jimin curses and shoves at him lightly, tapping on the notif and waiting for the links to load, slightly grateful Taehyung didn’t point out the fact Jimin has push notifications on for Yoongi’s personal account.

“First Love,” he reads with numb lips.

It’s not about him. It can’t be. It isn’t. He’s not that full of himself. He wasn’t Yoongi’s first love, and it’s not even about Jimin being self-conscious. No. He knows exactly who got Yoongi’s heart before anything else, because Jimin was there, Jimin watched it all unravel, and—

The corner of my memory, a brown piano settled on one side.

Fuck.

Yoongi’s voice cuts into his mind, unleashing a swirl of memories he struggled so hard to suppress. Images fly out — images of young Yoongi hunched over his piano, his fingers moving over the keys, first tentatively and afraid, and then more sure of themselves, and finally flying over the white-and-black piano as Jimin watches him from the corner, mesmerized by the pain and beauty he is able to emit out of something so simple as a piano.

Yoongi fell in love with the piano as Jimin was falling in love with him. It happened naturally, like the movement of Yoongi’s expert hands over the keys. Life and growing up got in their way before, but then Yoongi remembered his old friend and came back to it, asking forgiveness for the abandonment, and it accepted him back. They fell together like two pieces of a puzzle, and the music they created together was always Jimin’s second most favorite sound in the world. The first was, and still is, and forever will be, Yoongi’s laughter. His smile, as he looked up at Jimin, happy at another song going well, hopeful for the future where he’ll be able to play it to the whole world, with Jimin by his side.

The songs rises to an agonizing crescendo, and he feels the tears stain his shirt, but they don’t matter, nothing matters but the pain and hurt in Yoongi’s voice, the longing he sends through the music, the longing for his first friend, his first love, the forgiveness he’s asking, the gentleness he feels leading the melody to slowly subside, and Jimin can’t breathe.

“I love him,” he whispers.

Taehyung wraps his hands around Jimin’s waist, and he lets himself cry, his body shaking as his defenses break down to let the ugly and painful truth out. He stays there for a long time, the song playing on loop, with the only thought circling in his mind.

Yoongi apologized before his first love for the hurt he’s caused, but Jimin doesn’t have the strength to apologize before his.

12

December 2014

Tear takes the Rap Record of the Year.

Yoongi thought it wouldn’t be as surreal to go up to the stage again after he’s done it before, but he was wrong. He feels the haze again as he listens to Namjoon’s speech, followed by Hobi’s few words. They tried to convince Yoongi to speak in case they win, but he kicked and scratched to avoid it. He’s more comfortable with speaking his mind with their music. Public appearances aren’t really his thing, and as far as he’s concerned, he shouldn’t be allowed to talk at all. That live interview fiasco is a testament to that.

He’s crying, he realizes as Hoseok reaches out to wipe his tears away, and he smiles at him, his friend, his brother, trying to convey all the love and gratitude he feels toward him. With Hobi, he doesn’t need to use words. The man is empathic enough to get it from a simple smile. Namjoon holds his hand as they walk back to their seats, and he can already see fans on Twitter speculate and screech, but if that makes them happy, he doesn’t mind.

It doesn’t really register in his mind that the show isn’t over, because he can’t look away from their award, but then Taehyung, the host for this year, announces the Best New Artist with uncontained glee, and Yoongi snaps his head to look at the stage.

He didn’t even know Jimin was attending, because he was trying to avoid thinking about him at all, but now he watches him stumble on his way up to the stage and feels an urge to run to him to help. And then it really dawns on him.

Jiminnie won the award. His beautiful, brilliant Jiminnie won. Yoongi shoots up to his feet, clapping his hands so enthusiastically they start hurting, but he doesn’t care. Smiling so wide also hurts, but he feels even happier than he did receiving his own award, and he knows there are cameras on him, fishing for more material for gossip, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters but Jimin’s flushed happy face, his tiny hands gripping the little statue. Taehyung’s looking at him with so much love and pride that Yoongi feels another pang of jealousy, because he’s the one who should be up there with Jimin.

But no. That’s an ugly thing to think. Jimin did it all by himself, without Yoongi’s help, and he deserves to have someone up there with him, gripping his hand as he thanks his fans. So what if it’s not Yoongi, but Taehyung? He makes Jimin happy, and even if all the gossip is right and there’s something more there than friendship, he’ll shut up and not interfere. Jimin chose his path, and Yoongi might as well respect that.

Jimin is wrapping up his speech, but Yoongi still isn’t sitting down, taking him in, enjoying the opportunity to watch him in real life without fearing he’s going to get yelled at again.

“And I also want to thank someone extremely special to me,” Jimin says suddenly, when people are already getting ready to applaud him off stage. Yoongi frowns slightly. He already thanked Taehyung, so who? “My debut single, the one that I’m guessing got me this award, it wasn’t just empty cute lyrics for me. No, Serendipity was brought to life by the feelings I’ve harbored in my heart for many years, and when I was at my lowest, they finally burst out of me and created this beautiful song. So I guess, thank you for inspiring it. You know who you are, even if you’re not allowing yourself to think about it. Thank you.”

He bows then and gives Taehyung a hug before leaving the stage, his face still radiant with his happiness. Yoongi feels Namjoon tugging at his jacket and sits down numbly, Jimin’s words still ringing in his ears.

It’s not about him, right? He can’t think that. Jimin hates him.

Only Jimin literally just said that Yoongi’s always doing it, always refusing to think about it, and he suddenly wants to cry again. He blames it on the turmoil of receiving the award. Hoseok subtly brushes his fingers over Yoongi’s wrist in silent support, and Yoongi nods at him in gratitude.

He’s about to get very drunk at the after-party.

///

Somehow, they once again end up home with a colorful crowd of idols and rappers alike, alcohol and laughter spilling everywhere, and Yoongi feels drained.

He escapes to the balcony, closing the door firmly behind him and curling in the old armchair they dragged out here ages ago. The same armchair where Jimin kissed him for the first time. Yeah, he’s not drunk enough for this.

Yoongi reaches behind the armchair to pull out the cigarettes he has stashed here in case he forgets to bring them, and lights one, his head falling back tiredly. The city is beautiful, but he doesn’t feel the same joy at seeing it as he used to.

He hears the door open, letting inside the noise of the party for a fraction of a moment before it’s cut off again, only the dull thuds of his own music reminding him there’s currently a rave going down in his living room.

He knows who it is. Doesn’t even try to explain it to himself, just knows.

“Didn’t know you started smoking,” Jimin says quietly, leaning on the wall as far away from Yoongi as he can.

“It’d be weird if you did,” Yoongi murmurs, slowly turning his head to meet his eyes. “Only my closest friends know.”

Jimin smiles with strain, gritting his jaw. “I’m no longer among them, am I?”

“I don’t know, are you?” Yoongi asks, just to be petty. It’s been a fucking year.

Jimin huffs and looks up at the sky sharply, and shit, Yoongi knows what it is. He always does this when he tries to stop himself from crying.

“Come here,” he murmurs, lowering his feet on the floor and putting the cigarette out.

One would guess Jimin will refuse, but one doesn’t know him like Yoongi does. Jimin waddles toward him, and Yoongi takes his hand, tugging him to climb onto the armchair. Jimin ends up on his lap, his hands on Yoongi’s shoulders, and it’s right. It’s how it should be.

“Congrats on your award,” he whispers, softly pinching Jimin’s chin to make him look up from where he’s staring at Yoongi’s neck. “You deserve it and every one they ever give.”

“You can’t just steal my words,” Jimin whines, and Yoongi realizes in a sobering flash — I’m still in love with him. “That’s what I said to you last year.”

“You remember,” Yoongi murmurs.

Jimin finally meets his eyes, and they burn with unshed tears and untold truths. “I remember everything about you. Always.”

It seems like the most appropriate thing in the world — to kiss him, so Yoongi does, leaning forward until their lips are almost touching, giving Jimin an opportunity to refuse him, just like he did a year ago. But the separation, it seems, was as agonizing for him as it was for Yoongi, because he leans in, kissing Yoongi in the same way he did last year, only there’s more urgency to it now, more longing.

“I’m so sorry, hyung,” Jimin whispers when they part, his fingers digging into Yoongi’s shoulders. “I was an idiot, and I should’ve come to you a long time ago.”

“I’m the one who should be apologizing,” Yoongi mumbles with a sigh. “That’s not to say I didn’t, you know.”

“I know,” Jimin breathes out. “I’ve forgiven you a long time ago. I was just too afraid to come see you.”

Yoongi kisses his chin, his hands bringing Jimin even closer. “Afraid of what?”

Jimin doesn’t answer, just a strained moan escaping somewhere deep in his throat as he shakes his head, unable to say it out loud. Yoongi sighs and kisses him again. It’s okay. Jimin always had trouble speaking his feelings, and it’s not like Yoongi can’t relate. He just wishes it didn’t take away a year they could’ve spent together.

“Stay with me tonight,” he asks in a whisper, and Jimin looks at him like he’s just about ready to stay with Yoongi forever.

Nobody matters after this point. Not the people in the living room who expect him to be a perfect host, not his own bandmates who watch slyly as he leads Jimin to his room, not the vibrations of the music shaking the door. All that matters is Jimin in his arms, Jimin on his body, Jimin, Jimin, Jimin.

It’s not their first time, but after a year of erasing each other from their memories, it feels new. Yoongi doesn’t want to think about the people Jimin’s been with in this time, and he doesn’t remember those he was with, because none of that matters. Everyone else is just white noise, background static that kept him from being bored, because the only time he feels truly alive, truly touched, truly loved — is with Jimin.

It’s funny how someone that hurt him so much can be the one who can heal it in a night. Jimin’s hands run all over his body, erasing the scars he put there, and Yoongi forgives him instantly, knowing that he could never be mad at him for real. It didn’t feel natural to be angry at him, but it feels like the most logical thing to be with him.

Jimin muffles something into his shoulder as they fall asleep, entangled in each other, and Yoongi thinks it’s a confession, but when he asks, Jimin just buries his face deeper into Yoongi and mumbles a simple, ‘never mind’. It hurts, but Yoongi knows how it feels to be afraid, so he doesn’t press. Now, they have all the time in the world again.

///

When Yoongi comes out of the shower in the morning, Jimin is gone.

Yoongi stares at the bed, still unmade and holding Jimin’s warmth, and knows that even when he tries to call or text him, there won’t be a response. He’ll try it nevertheless, but he knows.

Because after all, Yoongi knows how it feels to be afraid, and maybe, it’s not that funny how someone who can heal him in a night can hurt him twice as much in the morning.

He goes to sleep. Just like that, quietly and calmly, closes his eyes and chases away the memories because there’s no point. With someone like Jimin, there’s no point in wallowing.

Yoongi falls asleep wondering if he’s fooling himself by thinking he knows Park Jimin, after all.

13

April 2015

The next time Yoongi hears about him is four months later. He wakes up that day, ironically, with a thought that he’s got the hang of this whole ‘functioning while missing Jimin like crazy’ thing. It’s hard to stay away from him and not text him every day trying to get a response, but he’s doing good. Still can’t drop the habit of checking his socials every time he gets a free minute, but at least he turned off the push notifications. Dove into work, just like he always does when the real world gets to be too much, and mostly learned not to feel the pain hibernating inside his lungs.

The resolve he’s built over the four months comes crashing down the second he steps foot on the red carpet for some charity concert. He’s lucky Namjoon and Hoseok are blocking him from the view of the cameras, because he’s pretty sure he wouldn’t want the look on his face that appeared when he saw Jimin getting interviewed at the front of the line memorialized on another gossip magazine. Because there’s some scrawny-ass dick glued to Jimin’s side, his hands wrapped around Jimin’s shoulder and his eyes looking at Jimin like he’s seen a Jesus incarnate.

Hoseok sees them too and tries to lead Yoongi the other way, but Yoongi ignores him and walks on with a stone face. He doesn’t know if Jimin sees him, but he does catch the way his voice breaks at some point as Yoongi walks past him toward the podium to take his picture. Yoongi doesn’t look at him or even in his general direction. There’s an ugly, moldy vortex forming itself inside him, but he knows he can’t afford to make a scene right now, and he would regret it the second it was over anyway.

The guys catch up to him, and they pose and smile the way everyone expects them too. Yoongi thinks he’s doing a pretty good job, but it’s not until the next day when he sees the pictures will he realize that he looks like someone carved his replica out of an ice sculpture. Pretty but fake. And cold. That Yoongi feels even now — how cold it is.

He barely registers the rest of the evening, doing his performance with a semblance of actual care — because it’s for the kids, for fuck’s sake — and bouncing as soon as Namjoon gives him the green light. He bumps into Taehyung on his way out, catching him chatting up some scared-looking kid.

“You fishing somewhere else now that Jimin’s taken?” He barks, pulling out a cigarette. They’re in the underground parking lot, and there’s no cameras here, so he allows himself a weakness.

Taehyung simply arches an eyebrow, unfazed by his rudeness, and slowly pulls away from the wall. The kid looks between him and Yoongi with something akin to fear.

“That ass in there is for publicity,” Taehyung informs him coldly. “Jimin can’t stand him, but he needed a cover for all the hickies he showed up with for the New Year’s concert. You know how those got there?”

Yoongi huffs without looking at him. Mostly because yeah, he knows. He gave Jimin those.

“It was four months ago,” he says quietly. “Why now?”

The kid suddenly scoffs, breaking his silence. “You don’t follow fan twitter, do you?”

Yoongi glares at him. “Why would I?”

Now that he’s getting a good look at him, he realizes he knows him. Jeon Jeongguk, a pretty successful idol famous for the questionable shenanigans he and his bandmate always pull.

“Well, people have been speculating about it non-stop,” Jeongguk supplies. “Barely giving Jimin any space. Every interview and comment was about it.”

Yoongi grits his teeth. He didn’t know that. He was stalking Jimin’s account, not the interviews he did, because it seemed too painful to see him move and talk. He swallows, slightly disgusted with himself. All this time spent feeling sorry for himself while Jimin was going through hell.

A little voice inside reminds him Jimin wouldn’t have to do it alone if only he didn’t run away. Yoongi would gladly walk every path of the purgatory if Jimin wanted him to.

“So he’s pretending that dude did it?” He asks, only half-angry now. “That they’re dating or some shit?”

“Yeah, he’ll drop him in a week,” Taehyung says. Yoongi doesn’t want to meet his eyes, but he thinks there’s pity in his voice. “Don’t worry.”

“Why would I?”

“Because you’re in love with him.”

Jeongguk gasps suddenly, and Yoongi mirrors the sentiment on the inside. On the outside, he keeps staring at the ground, sucking on his cigarette. No point in lying to Taehyung, the dude knows more than Yoongi would like.

“That bother you?” He asks.

“It bothers me that you’re not fighting for him,” Taehyung says, coming closer and leaning next to Yoongi. “He’s an idiot, but he loves you. And I expected you to come for him weeks ago. Why do you think it took him so long to find a cover?”

Yoongi chews on his lip, feeling the anger coming back. “Excuse me, was I supposed to swoop in and save him? He’s the one who keeps leaving me on read both in text and in real life. I’m not steel, Taehyung.”

“I know, but…” Taehyung huffs and rubs his forehead. “This is all so dumb, honestly.”

Jeongguk clears his throat, and Yoongi blinks, realizing he forgot the kid was there. He raises his finger and smiles shyly.

“I know it’s none of my business, but some people say communication is key,” he says, blinking like an owl. “In our day and age, texting about your feelings is too normalized. Personal interaction is important because it gives you an opportunity to gauge your interlocutor’s reaction and mood, and modify your talking tactic according to that. It’s the healthy way.”

Yoongi and Taehyung stare at him in silence with various expressions of bafflement.

“Isn’t that the kid who did a cover of ‘Boys’ in a fountain full of rubber ducks with dicks?” Yoongi asks quietly, half-turning his face to Taehyung.

“Yeah, that was him,” Taehyung responds, his voice full of awe. “Isn’t he cool?”

Yoongi turns to him sharply, taken aback. Taehyung looks like he would marry Jeongguk right here and now if given the opportunity, and something finally clicks into place.

“Wait, you have the hots for him?” He asks incredulously.

Taehyung rolls his eyes. “Duh.”

Jeongguk turns to him with huge eyes, his mouth hanging open. “You do?”

“Bitch, I’ve been flirting with you for a year and a half,” Taehyung informs him hysterically.

“Oh.” Jeongguk stares at him, his face still as he processes the new information and what it means to him as a human. Yoongi would be fascinated with how he can be so smart and not smart at the same time, but he has better shit to do.

“You do you, kids,” he grunts, putting his cigarette out. “I’ll go wallow in my misery.”

Taehyung catches him by the elbow. “Talk to Jimin, please.”

Yoongi shakes his head, smiling bitterly. “How about you give him that advice? I’m tired of pining for someone who doesn’t want me.”

“He does, he’s just…” Taehyung’s eyes fly over Yoongi’s face, his own miserable.

“Yeah.” Yoongi purses his lips sadly and softly disengages Taehyung’s fingers from his arm. “He’s just. Bye, Tae. Give us an answer on that collab anytime soon, yeah?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, leaving the two lovebirds to their weird mating rituals. He’s a little relieved to know there’s nothing between Taehyung and Jimin, but it isn’t that hopeful, either — because there’s nothing between Yoongi and Jimin, too.

14

November 2015

Taehyung pitches the idea at around three in the morning while Jimin is higher than the Empire State Building outside their windows and there’s a snoring Jeongguk somewhere in the pillow fort they’ve built. Jin got the munchies about an hour ago, which resulted in him gorging himself on cookie dough and now throwing up all over Jimin’s brand new bathroom. He just got the tiles replaced after the whole Halloween disaster, and a pretty major part of his brain right now is fixating on the fact he’ll definitely force Seokjin to clean up after himself. Another part is so relaxed it’s hilarious, which is why he’s giggling.

Until Taehyung proposes for them to form a duo and release an album that will blow everyone’s mind.

“What?” Jimin slurs again after Taehyung has laid it out for the second time and his brain still didn’t bother to comprehend it. “Why?”

“Why not?” Taehyung blinks extremely slowly at him, but that may just be Jimin’s slowed perception of time. “The show is ending after the fourth season, and we’ve wrapped it already. Your album just came out. Mine too. We’re free for now, and we’re both awesome as fuck.”

“Yeah you are!” Comes from the pillow fort, and Taehyung yelps in excitement. He dives in, and Jimin hears scuffle and laughter, and then the sounds of kissing that he would honestly rather pass up on.

He stares at the New York sky outside, his mouth dry, and thinks that it’s a nice idea. He’s slowly and surely getting bored, and he knows that a day will come when he’ll either have to change his pace completely or have a nervous breakdown. And he loves Taehyung. He loves Taehyung’s music. He’s even recorded a few songs written by Taehyung. Taehyung is nice.

There’s a nudge somewhere under his ribs, and he swallows, looking around him for something to drink. The juice goes down, but the nudge doesn’t disappear. He blinks, trying to find the source of his anxiety and squash it, since he specifically went to America to avoid it.

Because you see, back in Seoul, there is a certain reminder of his worries everywhere he goes. Yoongi’s face is everywhere. Namjoon and Hoseok are also there, but at least looking at them doesn’t make Jimin feel like curling up and drowning in his shame and guilt. He was going mad, unable to stop thinking about Yoongi but also too afraid to do something about it. It’s that same defense mechanism of his that prevents him from getting any kind of closure from anyone, because it’s so much easier to just run away and ignore than deal with things.

And then his manager told him he had a solid chance of selling out a US tour. Jimin didn’t really believe it, but any opportunity to get out of the Skit-obsessed Korea seemed like a blessing, so he decided to go through with it. It sold out. Every fucking stop, every venue, sold out to the last seat. Taehyung tagged along with him, and somewhere around Los Angeles, they crossed paths with Euphoria. The tour ended, but all four of them stayed to spend Halloween here. Jimin bought an apartment, amazed beyond comprehension that he actually could afford it, and they’ve been holed up here for the past month. Halloween has long passed, but he still can’t make himself go back home.

He was almost ready, but then Yoongi called out of the blue. Jimin didn’t pick up, instead working himself into a panicked frenzy and cancelling his flight home. Taehyung sighed but canceled his too, even though Jimin tried to convince him it was okay. Seokjin and Jeongguk didn’t have any schedules for the next week, and you’d have to pry Jeongguk from Taehyung with a crowbar, so they stayed, too.

“We’re going home on Monday,” Taehyung says, emerging from the pillow pile with his face red. “Let’s do this.”

Jimin bites his lip, imagining actually recording something and then promoting it. All the music shows they’ll have to go to, all the interviews, and not to mention the award season coming up… It’s making him anxious even thinking about it.

Why, though? Just because he’s afraid to bump into Yoongi? It will happen eventually, whether he wants it or not. Might as well suck it up and finally face him to at least offer an apology. At most — try to restore whatever semblance of friendship that he can manage.

Friendship isn’t all he wants, though, and that’s the most fucked up thing. He loves Yoongi, but he can’t seem to stop hurting him, and perhaps, that’s the real reason Jimin is hiding on another continent.

“Okay, let’s do this,” he slurs, his eyelids drooping. He feels tired.

Taehyung yelps again, attacking him with hugs, and Jimin laughs softly, enjoying this serene moment, trying to etch it into his mind forever. Because it’s about to get really fucking busy.

///

December 2015

It happens again. Yoongi wants to laugh in the face of whoever is in charge of the universal irony, because it’s ridiculous at this point, really ridiculous.

They win Album of the Year. Yoongi sees the haze. Namjoon gives the speech. Hoseok yells. They go to their table. Jeongguk, a new host, announces Jimin’s Lie taking the Idol Record of the Year. Jimin makes a cute speech, thanking his friends and family and someone special. Taehyung takes Best Soundtrack and calls Jimin back on stage to announce they’re forming a duo. Everybody applauds them.

The afterparty transfers to Skit’s dorms. They’ve rebuilt and expanded, and it fits much more people now, but Jimin still finds him on the balcony. They don’t even talk this time. Just look at each other. Yoongi thinks Jimin’s on something, but he's responsive enough to clearly say he wants it. Yoongi throws away his cigarette and leads him to the bedroom. Jimin seems softer somehow, less rough around the edges, but once the lights are out, Yoongi feels the old Jimin waking up, his raw energy breaking out from under the persona his management is building for him. He’s free when he’s with Yoongi, and it’s liberating, but it also hurts, because Yoongi knows Jimin doesn’t want to fight for himself.

He doesn’t give Jimin an opportunity to run off on him again, waking up before Jimin and taking his time to memorize his face. It’s funny to put the new image of his Jiminnie over the memories, but he has to stop living a lie. Jimin’s changed. Maybe not for the best, but he did. There’s more maturity now in the lines of his face, a few more scars on his soul that Yoongi can see in the little wrinkle between his eyes, more sadness. He wishes to stay by his side and finally start the journey he knows would be amazing for them, but it’s a pattern at this point. He knows Jimin will get scared again.

Which is why he bounces first, running away to the studio and only coming back home a day later. His bed is neatly made, but there are no other signs that someone was here in his absence. He can still smell the faint accents of Jimin’s cologne, but that’s it.

He sits on the bed, hanging his head between his hands and wondering — has he fallen into the pattern of loving Jimin but not having him to the point he’s aiding and abetting? Is it a defense mechanism? Is he tired?

Or is it that he has simply, effortlessly, invisibly fallen out of love with him?

15

March 2016

Map of the Soul comes out around the same time Jimin and Taehyung drop their album, Persona, which flares up so much speculation in the media all five of them are forced to talk about each other and convince people around them that no, it’s not a hint at a secret collaboration. They just happen to read the same books.

And yes, it just so happened that Skit featured Jeon Jeongguk, Kim Taehyung’s known boyfriend, on their album. And yes, it’s just a coincidence that KT&PJ featured Kim Seokjin, Kim Namjoon’s known boyfriend, on their respective album.

Yoongi honestly gets where the fans are coming from. A helluva lot of coincidences, but they all can be simply explained, apart from the fact that Yoongi finds out Namjoon is dating Seokjin from motherfucking Twitter.

“We didn’t want to make it official until it’s something solid,” Namjoon explains patiently when both Yoongi and Hoseok confront him. “But someone snapped a pic of us on a date and it sort of… Blew up.”

“How did you even…” Hoseok spatters. “When did it even… What?”

Yoongi supports it by flailing his arms around, but Namjoon just rolls his eyes.

“Remember that time we went to America for Halloween?” He turns to Hoseok.

“Jimin’s party?” Hoseok asks, and now it’s Yoongi’s turn to sputter and gape at him. Hoseok has the decency to look guilty.

“You went to another fucking country for Halloween? At Jimin’s?” He screeches.

“Just because you’re his December booty call doesn’t mean we can’t be friends with him,” Namjoon says evenly. “Anyway, that’s when Seokjin and I met and started talking. Then there was that party at our house, and he came over in the morning to pick Jimin up, and we kinda hit it off while Jimin was in the shower. And then… It escalated.”

Yoongi grips his hair, trying to process all the new info. “Let’s start with that part about you being friends with a guy who treats my heart like his own private archery competition.”

“That’s poetic,” Hoseok notes. “You should put it in a song.”

Yoongi throws a plastic cup at him. Namjoon goes on to explain that he really likes Seokjin, and Jimin is their good friend even despite all the shit with Yoongi.

Yoongi storms out and doesn’t speak to them for two weeks until they have to go on tour. He figures that spending five months jammed together into trailers and planes won’t work if they’re fighting and tries to initiate a conversation, but it only works when they come to a compromise — nobody stops talking to nobody, because they’re not in fourth grade, but nobody is forcing Yoongi to make an effort about the whole Jimin situation. They know what happened, and they support him, but they also think it’s stupid. Yoongi pouts the whole way to London, but then Hoseok snuggles up to him on the bus and he can’t help but warm up to them again.

It’s a mess, that’s what it is. Yoongi feels hurt because his own best friends think he’s being an idiot by ignoring Jimin’s existence when it’s clear he still cares about him — which is still up for debate, but they think they’re fucking prophetic Cupids — but he also feels lost because they may be right. He doesn’t know what exactly he feels for Jimin, but he knows he has to deal with it, and do it fast.

So it’s natural, of course, that the next time he talks to Jimin is nine months later.

16

December 2016

This time, Yoongi expects him. He settles on the balcony, the sounds of the raging party shaking the glass but still muffled enough for it to be semi-comfortable. He puts his legs under him and waits.

So what if he never worked up the courage to call Jimin? It’s not like he hasn’t tried. Something just always came up, like going grocery shopping, or having a concert, or not calling him. Yoongi’s just…

Afraid. Yes, that’s it. Might as well admit it to himself.

Being in love with Jimin became such a familiar emotion that he’s stopped giving it any special thought, especially when they were still two dream-filled teenagers in Yoongi’s basement and spent every free minute with each other. More so, Jimin often hung out with Yoongi while he worked on his songs, and he became such a fixed part of Yoongi’s process that it was extremely hard to readjust once they got their breaks. He used to play videos of Jimin while he worked so that he had his voice filling the silence. Because it was habit. Knowing and loving Jimin was a habit.

But it’s been years since they last spent a whole day together, and Yoongi’s learned to function without him. It was hard, because he never realized the true scope of his Jimin addiction, yet he didn’t have a choice but to figure out how to do it, so eventually, it happened. Or, almost happened.

Because now he doesn’t listen to Jimin while working, but he does it at home, when nobody can see him, under the cover of night, his earphones plugged in and his soul ready to be torn apart. Jimin’s voice still does wonders to his insides, and he’s made his peace with it.

What keeps bugging him lately, though, is that one traitorous thought born after he deliberately left Jimin behind, not even hoping Jimin would want to stick around.

He loves Jimin’s voice still, even after all the hurt its owner caused him. But does he love Jimin? Does he even know him anymore? Is there something left for Yoongi to love? Something of that old, wild, crazy Park Jimin that got into the best colleges but turned them down to chase his dream? Park Jimin who always chose fight instead of flight? Park Jimin that managed to combine the kindest and biggest heart and reckless and rebellious soul? The Jimin that Yoongi loved was unpredictable and untamed. The Jimin that Yoongi sees from the screen is someone who wouldn’t say a swear word if forced and obliges with everything he’s told to do. Can Yoongi even love someone like that? Can he love the Jimin that he sees and pretend it’s the Jimin he remembers?

There’s still some familiarity in Jimin’s songs, but Yoongi can see how his company is slowly dragging him into the manufacturing machine of templated idols. They’re not very successful, because Jimin can’t simply change his entire personality between comebacks, but what if they’re breaking him? He’s a born fighter, but even he has to get tired sometimes. Yoongi keeps hearing rumors and stories about Jimin getting caught up in crowds he doesn’t fit in. He thinks too highly of Jimin to suspect drugs, but he’s been stinking of smoke, according to Hoseok, for the past few months. Not just cigarettes, too, but weed and bonfires. Yoongi doesn’t think there’s something wrong with occasionally getting high, gods know he does it himself, but Jimin tends to get fixated on the most random things to avoid facing his own emotions. Maybe, spending all his time under the influence of alcohol and grass is his new way of running away. Yoongi hates seeing it. He hates realizing Jimin could channel the energy he spends on partying to his art. Because it’s beautiful, just like Jimin is, but it’s slowly losing his personality.

Yoongi blinks, realizing he’s been here for over an hour, but there’s still no signs of Jimin. That’s strange. By this time, they’re usually already in bed. He looks inside the room, scanning the crowd on a wild hunch — and there he is, dancing on the table without his shirt, a cheeky smile on his face as he sends sly glances at the people on the floor.

Yoongi feels amused and irritated at the same time. Because right there is the real Jimin he’s been missing, but he’s also breaking their unspoken tradition, and that hurts.

It’s easy enough to drag him down from the table and lead him to Yoongi’s room, but it’s really hard to make him stay still. He’s drunk, and maybe even high, Yoongi realizes as he pries Jimin’s hands from his shoulders.

“Come on, Yoonie-hyung, just kiss me and let’s get it over with,” Jimin whines, and Yoongi steps away from him as if Jimin slapped him in the face.

“Get it over with?” He whispers, his lips numb. “Is this a fucking chore for you?”

Jimin smacks his lips and looks away, his eyes shining but tired. “Isn’t it? We’re gonna part in the morning, anyway.”

“What if we don’t?” Yoongi asks. Jimin suddenly looks so sad Yoongi feels like shit for pushing him away. “I think we need to talk.”

Jimin’s face comes alive again as he smirks and goes up to Yoongi, throwing his arms around Yoongi’s neck and nuzzling into his cheek. “I think we need to fuck.”

“Jimin…”

“Yoongi.”

“Listen to me,” Yoongi murmurs, a little unfocused from his proximity but refusing to let it drag out for another year. “We have to sort it out.”

“Nah.” Jimin catches his chin and kisses him firmly, his fingers already working on Yoongi’s shirt.

Yoongi gently pushes him away and takes a deep breath. “Jimin, I can’t just do this every year. I need you either back in my life or out of it, permanently.”

“Why?” Jimin asks slowly, his eyes wandering around the room. “You don’t want me like I am. You want baby chick, and that dude checked out years ago. I even think he never really existed. You made him up.” He pops the ‘p’ sloppily, and that single sound sets off some primal anger in Yoongi’s chest.

He walks away to the window and takes deep breaths to calm down before he says something they both regret. “And who are you, Park Jimin?”

There’s no answer at first, and he thinks Jimin just left — nobody would be surprised — but then there are hands on Yoongi stomach and lips on his neck.

“I’m someone who wants to sleep with you and figure the rest out in the morning,” he whispers.

There is a deafening, roaring crashing sound in Yoongi’s head, and he imagines all his hopes and illusions shattering in a myriad of tiny glimmers of glass. He wants to either yell or cry. Instead of that, he turns around and faces Jimin, feeling coldness he’s never experienced before. “Get out.”

Jimin snorts and rolls his eyes, making no move to leave. “Stop lying to yourself, Yoongi. You never wanted me like I am. You listen to my voice and say I’m an angel, but I was never one.”

“I know that better than anyone else, Jimin,” Yoongi whispers. “Trust me, I do. I also know that you always loved to pretend like you’re not worth anything, that you never believed someone could actually fucking love the mess you are. Well, guess what? I did. With all your flaws and imperfections.”

Jimin chews on his words, tears gathering in his eyes, and it hurts to see him like this, but Yoongi’s tired. He’s finally fucking tired of this.

“What do you want from me?” Jimin whispers, his voice so broken the shards from it cut into Yoongi’s throat.

“Nothing.” Yoongi answers evenly. “Absolutely nothing, Jimin. Please, leave my life and don’t come back into it unless you’re ready to finally take responsibility for your actions.”

Jimin sways where he stands. It takes him a full minute to stop staring at Yoongi like a hurt kitten and finally turn away, walking slowly toward the door.

Something flashes in Yoongi’s mind, something agonizing, something that compels him to call out another, “Jimin.”

Jimin turns around, leaning heavily against the door, and raises an eyebrow. But the feeling passes, and Yoongi simply murmurs, “Never mind.”

When Jimin’s gone, he allows himself to break down. He sinks to the floor, ground shaking under his feet as he lies down on the carpet, thinking about that same poetic irony that seems to be chasing him wherever he goes.

He wanted an answer. He wanted to know if he’s still in love with Jimin. With whatever version of Jimin that exists now. As he watched Jimin close another door between them, he realized with a rather pathetic tremble — he still doesn’t know.

But maybe, it would be best if he wasn’t.

17

January 2017

Jimin breathes out and closes his eyes.

Reality check.

He’s at his therapist’s office, waiting for his appointment. Taehyung is picking him up when it’s over. Yoongi hates him. He’s Park Jimin, an award-winning idol who hangs out with people like Halsey and Epik High. Four years ago, he was a scared nobody. Today, he’s a scared somebody. Yoongi hates him. Today, he’s also taking responsibility.

He admitted that he lost himself the morning of New Year’s. He had a crowd of sleeping bodies in his living room, and he looked at them, realizing that he barely knew anybody there. People he really cared about left before the party turned into a rave. Namjoon and Seokjin left together after midnight, Taehyung and Jeongguk went to sleep next door in Tae’s apartment around two, and Hoseok wasn’t even at the party, spending time with Yoongi.

Yoongi. Jimin covers his face and sighs. It all comes down to Yoongi.

Because Jimin misses him, and more than that, he misses himself from four years ago, when he was broke and unknown but free. With Yoongi, he was always free, because all those things he said to Jimin were true. Yoongi loved him with all the flaws and fuckups, because they were what made up the Jimin that was, and fuck, Jimin misses it. He loves being known, he loves making music and coming up with choreography for his own work, he loves selling out stadiums, but it was never about money or fame. Ever since he was a kid, he wanted to share his joy with people, and his art is a perfect means for that.

And now he went and fucked all that up. He doesn’t remember when was the last time he created something himself instead of going along with whatever management created for him. His last album was complete templated bullshit that he hated doing. The entirety of 2016 was a fucking mess. It started off good, with their joint project with Taehyung blowing the hell up, but then came the promotions he dreaded so much, and all the questions about Skit and their connections broke the last thread of sanity he still clung to. He spent the rest of the year going through the motions during the day and smoking the nights away.

He just… Stopped caring. A great void of nothingness opened up inside, sucking everything he loved in and locking it up, not letting him see it again. He should’ve noticed something was wrong when Taehyung stopped smiling so much around him, that worried frown etched into his forehead. He should’ve noticed something was wrong when Jeongguk stopped preaching to him and silently clung to him whenever they saw each other. He should’ve noticed something was wrong when Seokjin started calling him with reminders to eat or do his laundry and always ended their talks with ‘love you’s and ‘take care’s. He should’ve noticed that he was hurting his friends by being indifferent about himself.

But of course, he only noticed that something was wrong when Yoongi refused to go along with his bullshit. What a nice reality check.

Jimin misses himself. He misses the times he understood his own mind and noticed when something was wrong with it.

Yoongi hates him. Jimin hates himself too.

But he’ll be damned if he goes down without a fight. The secretary calls out his name, and he stands up, bracing himself.

Here you fucking go, Park Jimin. Giving yourself a second chance.

He goes inside the office, a tiny shooting thought at the back of his mind — there won’t be a third.

April 2017

[Transcripted extract from Park Jimin’s video interview for Billboard.]

Interviewer: Let’s talk about Sorry, since you’re performing it tomorrow at the awards. It was a surprising collaboration with Halsey that broke you out into the US market. That’s not to say you weren’t already a known name here, of course, but it still helped having a western artist in your corner.

Park Jimin: It looks like that, yeah, but to be honest this wasn’t… A strategy. The song was an apology. I needed to say it, and Ashley already had it written, so she offered to collab.

I.: So it’s a shared sentiment?

P.J.: Perhaps. I don’t want to speak for her, and I won’t, but the lyrics mostly rang true to me back in February when it came out.

I.: They don’t anymore?

P.J.: Aish, not exactly… You see, I needed to… Release this pain inside of me. Hurting someone else when you love them is something I would never wish upon anyone. When you’re looking at someone and thinking that you would give up everything for them, but then you open your mouth and only lies and hurtful words come out — it messes with you.

I.: I see. And may I ask, your new single, Promise, is it somewhat of a continuation of that sentiment?

P.J. [smiles]: You’re good. Yes, it is. The ending lyrics in Sorry, they weren’t quite what I felt, but it was Ashley’s song, so we went with it.

I.: You’re referring to, “someone will love you, but that someone isn’t me”?

P.J.: Yes. I’ve come to realize that I don’t want to let go that easily. You see, I treat my music as a process. And in the process of loving someone, you sometimes realize that you’re toxic. It’s hard, admitting it to yourself, but once you do, it’s easier to accept that you messed up. It’s easier to make amends. It’s easier to apologize. It’s easier to move on. I don’t want to wallow in pain anymore, because when I do, I hurt people I love. Promise is me not so much promising to be better to other people, but promising myself I’ll be better. Because before I can love someone else, I should learn to love myself.

I.: ...I… That is extremely good insight, thank you, Jimin. But I have a question. That last bit sounded like a quote.

P.J. [smiles at the camera]: Stream Answer by Skit.

I.: That’s… Unexpected. You usually avoid talking about other artists.

P.J.: Well, people change. The guys did an amazing job. With their entire career, honestly. They’re perfecting their music with each album, and I’ve learned a great deal from them.

I.: I didn’t want to bring it up, but since you’re talking about it yourself… Min Yoongi is rumored to be connected to you in ways that people still speculate about.

P.J.: Is it about that song again?

I.: Not really. Some pictures from artist parties are circling around, and you’re close in them.

P.J.: Those parties are always crowded. I’m guessing we were bound to end up in one shot one way or another.

I.: True. But you know what they say about coincidences, and there’s been a lot surrounding you two.

P.J.: …

I.: Jimin?

P.J.: Our worlds aren’t supposed to ever collide, you know? [smiles] I have nothing but respect for Min Yoongi. He’s one of the greatest artists and people I’ve ever known.

I.: I’m guessing you’re not elaborating on that, are you?

P.J.: You guessed right.

I.: Alright, then. So, about your upcoming performance at the BBMAs...

[Transcription ends.]

///

Yoongi stares at the screen, his insides on fire.

What the everlasting fuck?

It’s easier to make amends? With what? His fucking songs?

“How about a text once in a while,” he growls at his phone, locking it so hard the case cracks.

As if some Providence is truly at work, his phone chimes with a notification, and he looks in horror at Jimin’s name in the text bar.

jiminnie: can we please meet ?

jiminnie: I’m coming back home next Monday. are you free Tuesday?

yoongles: why

jiminnie: gguk says personal communication is healthy

yoongles: im not in the mood, jimin

jiminnie: okay sorry. i just want to talk.

yoongles: I don’t

jimminie: yoongi

Yoongi doesn’t respond to that, swallowing as he looks at the text chain, waiting for three dots to appear again, but they don’t. Jimin really thinks he’s going to run to him if he just calls his name? Fuck no. Yoongi learns from his mistakes.

jiminnie: never mind then

Yoongi throws his phone across the room.

///

@ParkJimin0513 [verified]: I run away when things are good, I never really understood the way you laid your eyes on me in ways that no one ever could.

[1.3m likes] | [789,3k retweets] | [756k replies]

18

March 2017

The news about Park Jimin the Idol going on a hiatus hit the blogosphere early in the morning. Rumours flare up immediately, connecting the break to the fact Park has been recently cast in the new drama, once again alongside his Stigma costar and duo partner Kim Taehyung. Neither of the parties involved give any comments until the late evening, when Park Jimin himself clears up all the speculations by posting a message for his fans on Twitter.

hi, pjims! I know you have questions, you’ve had them for quite a while, and I promise to answer them all in due time. I’m writing this on my way to the shooting, so forgive me if it seems bulky and rushed, but I figured it’s better to post it unrevised.

it has been an issue for quite a while for me — being revised. in the beginning, I had the creative freedom i’d always craved, and I’m beyond grateful to my management for allowing me the time and resources to find my sound. I thought I did after my first and second albums, but there was always something missing. a lot of things happened between then and now, and I spiraled. in my search for the real me, I lost what little of myself I still had. and while I was struggling to get out of the hole I dug myself into, my company took liberty to dictate what i sing and release. I don’t blame them, it’s their job. but when I started getting back on my feet, I realized that I no longer know what I am and what I want to do

so i decided to track my steps to the beginning. I love acting, and it was what brought me the fame I have now. House of Cards is something new and fresh. it’s not about dancing anymore, but it’s promising to be exciting and challenging for me as a performer. I hope that it brings me back the strength and energy I felt when this all was just starting.

I’m not quitting music entirely. I could never. it came to mean so much to me that I can never abandon it. I will still perform occasionally, if the need calls, but as for new releases… it will probably be a while. but i promise you that Park Jimin the Idol comes back as soon as Jiminnie the human figures out what it means to him. I feel like I have so much more to say, and I hope that you’ll wait for me.

here’s to new beginnings and challenges.

love, pjm.

///

yoongles: are you okay?

jiminnie: that’s a really relative notion

yoongles: jimin. you know what I mean

jiminnie: idk, hyung. im getting better, i guess. I need time to fix what I’ve broken

jiminnie: that includes you and i

jiminnie: you’re gonna leave me on read again?

yoongles: that’s weird, I agree. that’s usually your move

jiminnie: hyung

jiminnie: I want to meet. and talk about us.

yoongles: there’s no us, jimin. there never was

jiminnie: really?

yoongles: you tell me

jiminnie: i know i fucked up. and i want to fix it.

yoongles: i don’t think there’s a point, jimin. I really don’t

jiminnie: at least hear me out

jiminnie: hyung?

jiminnie: yoongi, come on

jiminnie: please

jiminnie: never mind

///

May 2017

Yoongi finishes watching the pilot of House of Cards on his way to another charity concert. He knows for a fact now that Jimin won’t be there, so he isn’t worried about seeing him with another publicity stunt hanging off of his arm. But he still wants to see at least some form of him, so there he is, his eyes glued to his phone when the titles start rolling.

He locks his phone and leans back in the seat, breathing out.

Wow. That was… Incredible. The plot isn’t something extremely new — it’s a crime show, but it’s also fresh. Jimin plays a special agent that infiltrates a gang as a dancer in their club and strikes a friendship with a gang leader, played by Taehyung. They’re amazing actors, Yoongi has to give it to them — in all the fifty minutes of the episode, he didn’t see Jimin and Taehyung once. He saw their characters. And that’s fucking amazing.

It also makes him think once again about how much he misses Park Jimin. He just spent almost an hour watching another one of his masks, desperate to see the real him before he remembered he’s not supposed to, and it makes him think about another mask that Jimin wears. Or used to wear, if all the news and rumors are to be believed. The guys say Jimin hasn’t been seen at any of the industry’s parties ever since New Years. Taehyung texts him with updates once in a while, but they’re sporadic and short. Jimin’s doing okay. He’s recovering from the whiplash of the last year. He wants to see Yoongi, but doesn’t want to press. The usual thing.

Yoongi bites his lips as the stadium comes into view. They stop at the traffic light, and he watches the hoards of fans waiting to be let in. It’s a charity thing for some case Yoongi can’t remember for the life of him, and it’s not like him because he always remembers what he’s fighting for. But not today. Today, he’s performing without the others, and he’s performing a song he’s been dreaming to showcase ever since his sleep-deprived ass accidentally released it.

He’s been stressing over it for months, because in the end, no matter the circumstances, the only person he wants to hear singing So Far Away is Jimin. He was debating asking for months before finally working up the courage to send a text which Jimin left on read. Yoongi waited for three weeks until he absolutely had to submit his planned song and asked Suran, an idol he met at some award show and who agreed in a second. She always loved what they’ve been doing with blurring the lines between rappers and idols, and jumped on the opportunity to help.

Yoongi likes her and her voice, and her range is the closest to Jimin’s — Yoongi knows, he spent four days listening to everyone he could get his hands on — but it still feels wrong. Because it was written for Jimin, and only for Jimin.

Yoongi already anticipates his reaction when he hears the song he’s been denying being involved with has been performed live for the first time in over three years. Will he be mad? Probably. That sounds exactly like Jimin’s kind of drama. Some petty part of Yoongi already craves the explosion that will come after Jimin catches wind of it, and he chuckles to himself imagining how pissed Jimin will be, and that’s probably weird as fuck, but not with them. They’ve always been about fire and emotions.

On the other hand, Yoongi doesn’t care. Jimin had his opportunity to embrace the song, and he rejected it more than once. It will serve him right after all the shit he’s made Yoongi go through. He deserves to—

Yoongi physically feels how his mind rejects the thought. No matter how hurt he is, he could never wish the same upon Jimin. Years have passed, but he still — despite all his inner turmoil and denial — loves Park Jimin more than he ever loved anyone or anything. Maybe that’s exactly Yoongi’s problem. Maybe that’s exactly why he can’t let Jimin go completely. Maybe that’s why Jimin keeps reaching out, trying to fix them. Because he knows it too.

Yoongi sighs.

“What a fucking menace you are to my heart, baby chick,” he whispers as they pull up.

///

Suran looks radiant as they wait for their turn backstage, and Yoongi would share the sentiment if he didn’t feel so damn jittery. Something is wrong. He tries to justify it by his anxiety throwing a tantrum over performing this exact song, but that can’t be it. There’s something else.

“It will be amazing,” Suran assures him with a cheeky smile. “They’ll never forget this performance.”

Yoongi sends her a strained smile and fixes his in-ear. Their turn rolls up, and he walks out on the dark stage, taking his place as the intro starts playing. He closes his eyes, listening to the recording of Jimin. He insisted on leaving this part on the track and leaving the rest to Suran.

A single spotlight fires up, illuminating him as he starts his lyrics, the words coming to him even after all these years and just a single rehearsal. His voice booms over the screams of the crowd, and he remembers writing it, hunched back over his old notebook in his parents’ basement, Jimin’s rambling on another failed audition somewhere in the background. His mind caught the information Jimin was bombarding him with and singled out the motif — his pain at going against everyone’s expectations and feeling hopeless because sometimes, he couldn’t remember why he was doing it. Yoongi knew how it felt, and that’s why it came so easily to him, those words about not even knowing if you have a dream.

“Everything is changing, so why am I still here?” He says for the third time, closing his eyes against the weight of the memories, waiting for Suran to come in.

Only when he hears that coveted so far away, if only I had a dream, it isn’t Suran singing the words whispered to him by Jimin as they cuddled together before Yoongi’s old heater. For a second he’s struck with a terrifying guess — they didn’t remove Jimin’s voice from the record, but as he looks up past the roaring crowd to his right, he feels breath leave his lungs in a gasp.

Jimin is standing where Suran is supposed to be, his hands wrapped reverently around the mic, his eyes closed as he sings the words he wrote through Yoongi, the words he felt and lived, the words he denied for years.

He opens his eyes on the last line, softly stretching the if only I had a flying dream until it goes up in a mesmerizing peak, and Yoongi almost misses his cue. The only thing that saves his shaken mind from malfunctioning is years of professional performing that push the right words out of him as his brain is still processing that he’s not hallucinating.

Jimin is here. With him on the stage. Just like Yoongi dreamt deep at night, scared to admit it to anyone apart from Jimin himself. His legs carry him toward Jimin against his will, and Jimin walks to meet him halfway, his eyes so incredibly soft and bright that Yoongi gets lost in them for a moment.

And then he snaps out of it, the anger coming back, because Jimin doesn’t have the right to just show up out of the blue like this, not after what he did, not after what he kept doing, and Yoongi wants to scream, but instead he channels that rage into the lyrics, spitting out the fears and hopes of his nineteen-year-old self into the mic as Jimin watches him with apology and longing.

They end up face to face, and Yoongi feels whiplashed by the feelings inside, so the last line comes out agonizingly slowly. He says it to Jimin, the words he wanted to confess years ago but instead kept hidden, because he thought it was for the best. Only it brought them both nothing but pain.

“I’m falling.”

Jimin catches it with his eyes, tears glazing them over, and jumps back into the song as the beat drops, the same pain Yoongi’s been feeling reflected in the mellow flow of his voice. It wraps around Yoongi’s wounded heart like honey, doing its old magic trick and healing every scar and scratch it can find.

And for a moment, he lets it. The present steps away, letting the distant yet happy past take over for the remainder of the song, and their voices mix together as they harmonize the rest. Jimin’s impossibly close now, and Yoongi’s arm impulsively travels to his neck, and Yoongi lets it.

Jimin wraps his fingers around Yoongi’s shoulder and holds him tight. The crowd is going mad behind them, but Yoongi doesn’t hear or see them. The only thing that exists now is Jimin, with his perfect voice and kind eyes, with the little dimple that appears as he hits the high notes, with the gentle lines on his forehead as he pours his heart into the simple repetitive lyrics, with his eyelashes shadowed on his cheeks as he closes his eyes to softly finish his part.

Yoongi murmurs the last lyrics, giving them the hope that wasn’t there before, because it’s been years, and it changed, he found his dream and he fulfilled it, but there is still one thing missing — because Jimin was always a part of that dream, and he’s standing on its edges, nudging the glass they’ve built between each other and asking Yoongi to forgive and let him in.

As the music drifts off and the only sounds left are the yells of the crowd, Yoongi looks into Jimin’s eyes — and believes he can.

19

Yoongi expects the magic to dissolve once they’re in the dressing room, but as he closes the door behind them and looks at Jimin, he still has that heavenly glow that Yoongi feels almost blinded by.

He seems better. Healthier. Yoongi used to notice how hollow and pale his face was but now it’s round and tanned, his eyes shining not from tears but from happiness.

“Hi,” Jimin breathes out, his shoulders tense as he kneads his palms.

“Hey,” Yoongi responds in the same quiet voice, for a second lost at what to do.

They stand there, taking each other in for what must be a whole minute, not a single word breaking the silence. Finally, Jimin takes the step that separates them and cautiously hugs Yoongi, his chin settling into the familiar dip between Yoongi’s shoulder and neck.

Yoongi hugs him back without thinking twice, the smell of vanilla ice cream filling his senses, and he closes his eyes, allowing himself to pretend they’re okay.

“That was quite a surprise,” Yoongi murmurs, turning his face to kiss Jimin’s hair. “Thank you.”

“Thank you,” Jimin whispers. “For not banishing me from the stage the second you saw me.”

“It’s your song. Forever.”

He leans back a bit, his fingers going to touch Jimin’s cheek. He wants to ensure he’s real and not another illusion of Yoongi’s messed up mind. His skin is smooth and warm under his fingertips, and he smiles in disbelief, touching Jimin’s lips and meeting his eyes to ask for permission.

Jimin’s irises are blown wide, and Yoongi catches the way he instinctively leans in before blinking rapidly to break himself out of the haze.

“I’m sorry, I can’t,” Jimin whispers.

Yoongi didn’t think there were any ways left for Jimin to hurt him, but he was always a creative one. Those four simple words slash into Yoongi’s lungs with a sonorous sound of the perfect illusion shattering around them. He takes a sharp step back. Jimin’s hands fall to his sides with a dull thud.

“We need to talk,” Jimin insists, his body urging forward in his desperate plea. “I can’t simply dive back into this mess without explaining myself. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Well,” Yoongi chuckles and sniffs. “I certainly didn’t want you to call our relationship ‘a mess’.”

“That’s what it is right now, Yoongi,” Jimin says heatedly. “I miss the old us. The ones that understood and forgave each other. I want that back.”

“I don’t.” Yoongi clenches his jaw and jerks his chin to the side, the strain from years of misunderstandings convulsing his muscles. “I don’t want the friendship we had, Jimin. Because back then, I wasn’t brave enough to tell you I love you more than a friend.”

He finally looks at Jimin, daring him to find a way to twist his words again. He’s so mad it’s incomprehensible, because he’s never been this mad at Jimin. “I want to be with you, Jimin. Properly.”

Jimin licks his lips and looks at the lamp on the wall, holding back his tears. “I don’t think I can handle that right now, Yoongi,” he whispers.

The anger trickles out of Yoongi as if someone popped him like a balloon. His shoulders slump as he rubs his face, so incredibly tired.

“But I can’t handle being away from you anymore,” Jimin continues with a strain. “I want back into your life, hyung. I need you.”

That easy. For Jimin, it’s always easy. Angry? Snap and walk away. Sad? Cling and leave as soon as it passes. Regretful? Pout and ask for a hug.

Yoongi doesn’t say any of it out loud, because he figured out at some point in the past few years that he’s not the one who’s supposed to save Jimin from himself.

“I’m sorry for the pain I’ve caused,” Jimin says. “I’m sorry that it all started because I exploded on you. I’m sorry that I wasn’t brave enough to fix it earlier. But I want to now.”

He walks closer, tracing Yoongi’s hand with his fingers and interlacing their pinkies. Yoongi looks at them, a humming silence in his head.

“Okay,” he whispers almost inaudibly. “I guess, we can try talking. But I don’t think I can… See you often.”

He sees Jimin nod from the corner of his eyes and asks himself — why does he keep doing this to himself? It would be so nice to tell Jimin to go fuck himself. But of course he doesn’t. He could barely do it once, and that was all the attempts his heart allowed.

“I understand,” Jimin murmurs. “We can just try texting. For now.”

For now. Funny.

“You’ll come around eventually, I’m sure of it,” Jimin continues, and something breaks.

Yoongi looks up at his hopeful face, a careful smile plastered to it, and finds a stranger looking back at him. This is someone who was told to apologize and play a good boy. This is someone who expects Yoongi to get over everything like Jimin just made an untasteful joke and not caused the biggest wreckage in Yoongi’s life. This isn’t his Jimin. This is someone toxic.

“I can’t,” he blurts out. “Sorry. No. Fuck you, Park, no.”

He tears his hand away and flees the room, his heart beating out a hummingbird tango on his ribs as he runs down the backroom and into the underground parking.

What the fuck did he just do?

And why did it feel like the best decision he’s ever made?

///

This is Yoongi, but if you have this number, you already know that. I’m either busy or screening you. Leave your message after the signal or just text me like a normal person.

Hey, Mi-i-in. [giggle] Shit. Never noticed how funny your surname is. Anyway, I- Wait, what did I want to say? Damn I’m drunk. [crashing glass and soft cursing] Oh, right! Fuck you too! You think you’re the only one that can do this? Nah, look at me, mister Park, saying that back. Ah-h-h… I’m trying so hard, and you just make me feel like shit. Did you know I’m going to therapy? Well, I am. It’s kinda helping, but also not because I expected to get better enough to get you back, but here we fucking are. [long exhale] I miss you. So much, hyung, you have no idea. I see you everywhere I go, in everything I do. And I don’t mind! Shit, how stupid I was with that song, goddamn. I wish our names would go together everywhere. Because in the end, no matter how much I want to punch you sometimes, you’re my— I’m— Ah, fuck. Never mind.

20

August 2017

Namjoon snaps first. It goes like this.

On a bright and unusually chilly summer morning, Taehyung calls Jimin up with a seemingly innocent offer to hang out and watch some dramas. Jimin doesn’t really have any plans for the day apart from maybe putting on a face mask and listening to Yoongi’s solo mixtape on repeat for the entire day, but he can do the mask with Tae and listen to Yoongi any other day. Heaven knows it’s his usual free-time routine anyway.

So when the time Taehyung specified (which should have been Jimin’s first clue, to be honest) rolls up, he grabs his kit and goes next door without even bothering to change out of his pajamas or wash off the mint mask. Taehyung has seen him in less favorable state before anyway, so no need to be self-conscious.

What Jimin doesn’t expect, though, is to find the entirety of both Euphoria and Skit crews chilling on Taehyung’s couch with a table full of takeout in front of them. Jimin catches sight of Taehyung’s apologetic face before his mind does the inevitable and focuses on a very disgruntled Min Yoongi caught between Seokjin and Hoseok.

“The fuck he’s doing here?” They both say at the time with only slightly different levels of annoyance.

Yoongi scowls at him. Jimin flips him the bird.

It’s been three months since his much regretted voicemail, and one would expect them to either fuck or ignore each other for a year again, or most probably both at the same time, but instead, something shifted in their usual mess of a dynamic. For the whole summer, they’ve been playing tug of war with the rest of the group.

Because apparently, that’s what all seven of them have become — a friend group. Except for Yoongi and Jimin, everyone is getting along pretty well, regularly hanging out, in some cases dating, and collabing. When the shame from getting drunk and calling Yoongi like a character out of some low-budget drama passed, Jimin found himself extremely fucking mad with Min Yoongi. His therapist says he’s deflecting the guilt this way, but what the hell does she know.

No. He’s mad at Yoongi for not giving Jimin a chance after all the years of begging for it. Yoongi can go fuck himself for all Jimin cares, but he’ll be damned if he lets that midget steal his friends. The notion of them being Yoongi’s friend too (which Taehyung never neglects to point out when Jimin goes on another rant) doesn’t matter. What matters is that Jimin hates Yoongi messing in his playground.

Yoongi caught up to his attempts to pull everyone to his side pretty quickly, after which it didn’t take him long to retaliate, and so Jimin found himself on a warpath.

And now he’s here, in his traitor of a best friend’s living room, staring at his enemy and thinking that he looks unfairly hot in that leather jacket. What a fucker. Oh, look at me, I went blonde and got five more piercings, making myself into some modern reincarnation of a greek god that Jimin wants to get down on. Asshole.

“Behave, please,” Taehyung calls out, and Jimin gapes at him in offense.

Yoongi cackles, but gets a slap on the neck from Hoseok. “You too, idiot.”

Namjoon gets up from his seat and fixes his jacket pompously. Jimin gets a flashback to high school and gets a feeling he’s about to get scolded.

Namjoon clears his throat and looks around like a presenter. “We have come to the conclusion that whatever feud you two have shouldn’t affect the rest of the relationships within the group. We’re tired of alternating between you two. We love you both equally, and it’s getting tiring to watch what we say in case we bring up either of you in front of the other and upset you.”

“Ggukie started a journal. He notes down meetings with you so that both of you get equal time with him,” Taehyung informs them grimly. “The baby is stressed.”

“I’m not a baby,” Jeongguk murmurs, his face reddening faster than Jimin can process. “But he’s right. I love both of you, hyungs, and I don’t want any of you to feel left out.”

Seokjin clears his throat and looks at Jimin with concern. “We can’t force you to suddenly resolve all your issues and act all lovey-dovey. But we do think you’re both mature enough to be in one room without having a fight.”

“For all of our sakes,” Hoseok adds, a frown etched into his forehead. Jimin has never seen him this stressed, and judging by the worried glance Yoongi throws at Hobi, neither has he.

“So,” Namjoon sums up, clapping his hands. “How about you two agree to leave your issues outside the group so that we don’t have to act like teenage show characters?”

Jimin purses his lips and nods. “I see. So this is an intervention.” He turns to Yoongi and arches an eyebrow. “And you agreed to this?”

“Bitch, I didn’t know what was going on until you walked in,” Yoongi says rather loudly, flapping his hands around. “I was told you’re out of Seoul and we’re going to watch a movie.”

Jimin snorts and looks over them with as much contempt as he can master. “What a bunch of liars.”

“What a drama queen,” Jeongguk mumbles, sending daggers with his eyes, and that makes Jimin promptly shut up.

He’s never had Jeonggukie snap at him like this. Or in any way. That really sobers Jimin up, and he inhales deeply, forcing a smile on his face.

“Fine,” he says with strain. “I guess I can tolerate Yoongi for the sake of the five of you.”

There’s a collective sigh of relief, and Jimin grits his teeth when he sees Yoongi isn’t making any movement to speak up and agree. Hoseok notices it, too, and elbows Yoongi in the ribs a little too harshly. Jimin enjoys the yelp Yoongi lets out immensely.

“Fine, okay, I won’t fight with him,” he says hysterically, not looking Jimin’s way.

With his arms crossed and his lips pouted, he reminds Jimin of a kid who got his favorite toy taken away. Jimin almost chuckles in glee, but then remembers he’s in the same situation as Yoongi and simply sighs.

Taehyung claps his hands and smiles so widely his eyes disappear. “So, the movie?”

Seokjin starts unpacking the food as action starts up around the room, everyone getting comfortable and ready to spend a quality friendship evening. Jimin fidgets, debating where he wants to sit — on a couch on the other side of Hoseok, or somewhere where he won’t be tempted to reach over and pinch Yoongi.

“Looking good, Park,” Yoongi comments suddenly, and Jimin gets ready to snap at him before he remembers his attire and the face mask he put on before coming here.

“Still better than you on a good day,” Jimin claps back, dropping the kit with his creams on the table and falling on an armchair after all. Better safe than sorry

“Damn, what a good comeback,” Yoongi drawls, unamused. “You got some panthenol for that burn?”

“Yeah, it’s shoved up your ass,” Jimin says calmly, adjusting his headband. “There’s a lot of things there, including your head, so maybe grab a map.”

“Why don’t you draw it for me, baby?” Yoongi asks, tilting his head with a smirk. “You’ve been there more often than me.”

Jeongguk emits a yell of disgust and pure horror, and Yoongi breaks out in laughter that would be more fitting for a cartoon villain. Jimin rolls his eyes and gets up, giving the couch a wide circle on his way to the bathroom.

“I’ll go wash this off.”

“I’ll go grab a cigarette,” Yoongi says, getting up too, and Jimin turns around to watch him walk for the balcony.

“I hope you choke,” Jimin sends after him.

“Only on your dick,” Yoongi throws over his shoulder, and Jimin contemplates throwing a table at him.

Instead, he just rolls his eyes and goes inside the bathroom. He leaves the door open, so he still hears as Namjoon says, “Is it me, or was it better when they were just pining for each other?”

The TV drowns the rest of their conversation out after that, but Namjoon’s words keep running through his mind as he washes off the mask.

Maybe, it was better for them, but it wasn’t for Jimin. The constant pain and guilt chasing after him wherever he went? He’s doing fine without it, thanks. It’s more refreshing to feel annoyed rather than miserable when he thinks about Yoongi. He feels more like himself, no longer forced under the constricts of his own guilty mind. They’ve been pretending for the past four years, and it’s not natural. Jimin and Yoongi used to always be honest with each other, whatever bullshit was on their minds, and the only lie they’ve ever told each other — or rather, not told — was their romantic feelings.

And look where it got them. Nah, Jimin will take the insults and bickering over hurt and anger anytime. Besides, it’s extremely fun to poke Yoongi and watch him bare his teeth like a cat that’s been woken up from its nap too early.

Jimin catches himself grinning in the mirror and realizes that it’s probably the most genuine smile he’s seen on himself in two years. And of course, it’s because of Yoongi.

Maybe, he doesn’t mind it that much as long as nobody else ever finds out.

21

February 2018

Autumn and winter pass in a blur. Skit go on their first world tour, and by the time it wraps up with the last concert in Seoul, Yoongi feels like falling asleep and not getting up until someone physically pries his eyes open. When they finally clock out, he holes up in his room for a week, only leaving it for bathroom and kitchen runs. Namjoon comes in at some point, reminding Yoongi not to plan anything for next Saturday because they’re planning to meet up with the rest of the group, and Yoongi begrudgingly agrees, trying extremely hard not to think about the people that’ll be there.

Which is, of course, why he spends the next three days rewatching the entire first season of House of Cards and lurking on Twitter from his secret account. The fans are as speculative as always, the ‘tea heating up’ now that Yoongi is back in Seoul, where Jimin was seen arriving a week ago.

Yoongi spent a long time fruitlessly trying to figure out how exactly so many people caught on to something happening between Jimin and him when they were extremely careful about steering clear of each other in public and social media up until last year. But even then, when they were on public outings with the rest of the group, they barely even looked at each other. Even if they did, there were no pics — Yoongi checked thoroughly. Nevertheless, there are countless ‘yoonmin’ accounts and threads with ‘proof’, and some of those look so far-fetched Yoongi always gets an itch to correct them. He snapped once and did just that from his fan account, but his comments were just swept aside and called ‘bitter’. He’s still annoyed about that. It seems he knows better why he posted a screenshot of listening to a song. Because he was listening to it at that time, simple as that. It wasn’t a secret message or him being ‘heartbroken’.

He has to admit that some of them are pretty on point, though. He thought he was being slick about praising Ed Sheeran’s ‘New Man’ on Twitter after he saw Jimin with some guy two years ago, but apparently, he was not.

But even with all their insights and surprising guesses, nobody ever got close to the true scope of it. They’d lose their shit if they knew what was actually going on behind the scenes, but that’s the beauty of being a private person. Nobody will ever know.

When Saturday rolls around, Yoongi doesn’t feel ready at all. He missed the others, surely, and he can’t wait to cuddle the shit out of Jeongguk, who’s secretly his favorite, but he also missed Jimin. To the point he doesn’t think he can handle seeing him and jumping back into their banter, which will inevitably happen because that’s just how things fucking are. Take that, stan Twitter.

Jimin looks amazing. Yoongi unabashedly stares at him when they enter the restaurant, only vaguely hoping there are no paps around to expose him. His hair is blonde now, and Yoongi sees how radiant he looks even from a few feet away. There was always a particular glow to him that Yoongi always flew to like a moth to flame, but it seems that now it got even brighter, as if he’s wearing some Snapchat filter instead of cologne. It’s probably because he’s rested and healthy, because as far as Yoongi’s stalking proves, Jimin has been dedicating time to himself since they wrapped shooting the second season of his new show.

Yoongi’s happy to see it, he realizes. It’s good. Jimin is good.

But then Jimin notices him and scowls, and the magic falls away to give place to the same familiar annoyance. Yoongi smirks in a way that he knows Jimin hates and falls onto the couch across from him.

“Gee, you’re alive,” he says evenly, arching an eyebrow.

Jimin pokes his cheek with his tongue but doesn’t retaliate, looking away from Yoongi and greeting Namjoon and Hoseok with a happy smile. Yoongi rolls his eyes as they exchange pleasantries and turns away to hug Jeongguk, his round face scared as it always is when Yoongi and Jimin enter war mode.

Taehyung and Seokjin return from the bathroom, and it’s another round of greetings and hugs until everybody finally settles down and dig into their food. Yoongi doesn’t miss the way Jimin is purposefully avoiding looking his way, and a primal urge to get his attention tries to peck its way out of the depths of his mind. He doesn’t let it. No matter their issues, he missed the others, and if he has to play nice for their sake, he will.

“So, I actually wanted to propose something,” Namjoon says halfway through the evening when the alcohol has already painted their cheeks with red and Jimin’s smile starts looking ethereal.

Seokjin chokes on his drink and starts waving his hands around. “No marriage until I’m at least thirty!”

The table erupts with laughter, and Namjoon rolls his eyes, waiting for them to calm down.

“No, it actually concerns all of us.” He clears his throat. Yoongi tenses, all the jokes falling away as he realizes this is something serious. “A collab. With all seven of us.”

It gets so quiet they hear conversations from other tables. Namjoon waits for them to process it, calmly sipping his water.

“You mean, like a…” Jeongguk starts, but gives up halfway, sending a pleading look Seokjin’s way.

“It’s unheard of,” Seokjin says quietly. “I mean, I know you guys always experiment with vocals and rapping, but… Four idols and three rappers?”

“That sounds like an opening for a joke,” Taehyung notes a little hysterically. “But I actually love the idea.”

Hoseok pipes up, his cheeks reddening even more. “Yeah, that’s revolutionary. Who else to do it if not us?”

“I know it’s a big thing for the vocalists,” Namjoon says regretfully. “We’re branded as the crazy ones already, but you still have a reputation to uphold.”

“Not us,” Jeongguk snorts. “Jin and I are basically you but in the idol world.”

“We’re in,” Seokjin says confidently, fistbumping Gguk over the table.

“Yeah, I’m not the most innocent one, too,” Taehyung notes, his face getting more excited by the second. “I’m in.”

Every face turns to Jimin in creepy unison. Yoongi realizes Jimin is looking at him and holds his gaze.

“What do you think about it?” Jimin asks, and it creates a sharp shift in reality.

Suddenly, there’s nobody else here but them. Jimin appears at the end of Yoongi’s tunnel vision, the feeling of being his closest and most trusted friend rising from the grave of his consciousness. Yoongi blinks slowly, licking his lips.

“I think it’s going to be amazing,” he responds. “Good for you in the long run. Amazing for the industry overall.”

Jimin nods and looks down, and the illusion breaks, the sounds of the restaurant and distant music cutting back into Yoongi’s perception. Jimin chews on his lips, still hesitating, and since the moment is over, Yoongi’s annoyance comes back.

“I don’t expect you to want it, though,” he says evenly, pausing before the punchline. “I figure you’d rather choke than have your voice appear alongside mine on a track again.”

Jimin scowls at him, sitting up straighter. “That’s neither here nor there.” He turns to Namjoon and jerks his chin. “I’m in but only if that asshole is too.”

Namjoon blinks rapidly, shaking his head in confusion. “Is that supposed to be a threat?”

Jimin goes to say something, but Taehyung throws himself on him, tucking Jimin’s head under his arm. “Anyway,” he says pointedly while Jimin struggles to breathe. “We’re all excited. Do you have something in mind?”

“Yes, actually.” Namjoon smiles so smugly Yoongi gets immediately suspicious. “You’re gonna love it.”

Yoongi feels threatened. Namjoon smirks at him, and that doesn’t help the feeling. He sighs and downs his soju. This is going to be fun.

22

April 2018

It turns out to be the furthest thing from fun in Yoongi’s entire life.

The song is called Spring Day, and Namjoon is so proud of it he announces it on Twitter two months before the performance. He doesn’t reveal it’s all seven of them, letting the fans speculate about it and immensely enjoying it.

As soon as Yoongi sees the lyrics, he experiences an overpowering desire to deactivate and become a nomad somewhere in the Himalayas.

“Is this on purpose?” He finally asks Namjoon one night when they’re hunched over their respective consoles, tweaking the music to convey exactly what they want. “All that best friend and missing bullshit?”

Namjoon looks at him long and hard before sighing like he’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. “Yes. If I can’t get you to say it out loud, at least I’ll make you sing it to each other.”

They don’t talk about it again, but Yoongi doesn’t miss the scalding look Jimin throws at Namjoon when he arrives for the recording. It’s nice to see they’re still on the same wavelength.

Hoseok and Jimin volunteer to create the choreo, so he’s a frequent guest at their company building during the weeks leading up to the performance. At first, they planned for all seven of them to dance but Yoongi said he won’t move a single muscle even if tortured and they had to come up with a conceptual idea where nobody has to move a lot but it still looks nice.

Everything about it is going to be legendary. Starting from the format of the song and its concept and ending with the event they’re performing at. Peace Music Awards is the first award show ever that doesn’t have separate categories for idols and rappers and has a Best Idol/Rapper Collaboration nomination. It’s experimental and fresh, and nobody says it will stick around, but Yoongi has high hopes for it, because all the hard work was for this, all the sweat and tears they’ve poured into their work, it all started with their wish to unite two worlds. And now they’re opening the ceremony with Spring Day.

Yoongi arrives to the venue long beforehand to watch them put up their stage. It’s a simple yet powerful concept — there is a thin satin wall separating the stage in two, with two vintage couches on each side, grey and pink. They symbolize the idol scene — seen as soft and innocent, and the rapping scene — grim and sullen. The wall is woven out of tiny white snowflakes strung together with wires. When the time comes, a pulled switch will ignite the wires, causing the wall to explode and break down into a snowfall. It’s beautiful.

The pre-performance frenzy is so battering to his nerves he finds himself fiddling with his in-ear so obsessively he unwinds it from the cord and has to suffer from standing still while the staff reconnects it. Jimin watches him quietly, his arms crossed, his makeup and suit already on, and Yoongi holds his gaze. The staff finishes and leaves, and Jimin crosses the distance between them and hugs Yoongi so tightly he hears his jacket creak.

“Tell me it’s going to be okay,” Jimin whispers, and Yoongi closes his eyes, setting his pettiness aside for a moment.

“It’s going to be amazing,” he whispers back, rubbing Jimin’s back.

And with Jimin in his arms, he believes it too.

///

The stage is pitch dark when the melody starts, echoing through the filled venue as it gathers power. Yoongi licks his lips nervously from where he’s lying on the grey couch gripping his mic. Namjoon is clutching his shoulder from the floor, and Yoongi gets it. They’re all fucking nervous. They’re hidden from the view of the audience, not to appear until their verses start, but he feels like all eyes are on him, making his skin crawl.

Hoseok looks down from his place on the couch back and winks at him. Yoongi pats his thigh and hides his hand just in time with the light over Hoseok going on and his verse starting. The crowd goes wild as he starts rapping, but they don’t even realize how big it is. None of them do.

Namjoon’s turn rolls around and he jumps over Yoongi, landing near Hoseok and starting his part. Yoongi sees them fistbump each other and hears the intensified roar of the crowd, but oh hell, they’re not ready.

He lifts his head carefully and looks over his shoulder. It’s hard to see Jimin from this distance and through the darkness and the white wall, but he still catches him kissing his necklace in a sign of good luck. Yoongi got him that necklace years ago. He never realized Jimin still had it.

Jimin looks up at the last moment. Yoongi smiles at him, but Jimin doesn’t have time to retaliate — the beat drops, signaling his cue, and he stands up and walks around the pink couch, singing his part. The audience goes absolutely wild. They’re so loud Yoongi thinks he feels the stage shake, but even with their volume, his only focus is still Jimin’s voice. He even takes out his in-ear to enjoy the mesmerizing blend of Jimin’s vocals and the crowd cheering for him. That’s exactly what he deserves, always.

Taehyung appears after Jimin, and this time, Yoongi actually sees the stage lights shake. The staff have to catch it hastily when Jeongguk pops out from the couch, singing his part, and then remove it entirely when Seokjin appears to harmonize with them in the chorus. Yoongi sees them dance a little choreo with each other — something the others insisted on despite Yoongi’s unwillingness to perform it. It’s nice.

The chorus comes to an end, and he carefully climbs off the couch and crawls to his appointed place, hidden by the darkened lights on stage. Jimin is already in his place behind the wall, and Yoongi touches it on a whim. Jimin puts his fingers against it too, touching Yoongi through the cloth, and smiles at him in the way he used to when they were teenagers, with nothing but a dream and each other. It makes the words Yoongi is about to say seem so much more significant.

“Did you change?” Yoongi asks, no longer noticing the reaction of the crowd, only the pain in Jimin’s eyes as he echoes his words mattering.

“Or did I change?” Yoongi asks, and Jimin does the same, and Yoongi realizes why Namjoon insisted on them doing this part together. Because they never had the guts to admit it to each other — they did change.

“I hate even this moment that is passing,” Yoongi confesses, and it doesn’t feel like the lyrics he memorized. It feels like his own truth. “I guess we changed, I guess that’s how everything is. Yeah I hate you.”

Only he doesn’t. He tried so hard to genuinely feel it that he convinced himself he did, but it was nothing but a lie. Because here they are, holding hands through the thin veil of years, and Yoongi knows — he could never hate Park Jimin.

“Although you left, there hasn’t been a day that I have forgotten you. Honestly, I miss you, but now I’ll erase you.”

In a way, he already did. He sees tears in Jimin’s eyes through the wall as he harmonizes over Yoongi’s lyrics, and feels his own eyes stinging.

“Because that will hurt less than resenting you,” Yoongi finishes with a strain that, thankfully, isn’t heard through the mic.

Jimin still hears it, though, and his face constricts with pain that feels like someone sticking daggers into Yoongi’s neck. Seokjin starts the pre-chorus before Jimin takes the lead and they press their hands closer together.

Yoongi feels Jimin’s warmth for a moment before they both grab the wall and pull at it. Someone backstage pulls the switch, and the wires ignite, a snowstorm rolling over the stage and beyond, covering everyone in a beautiful veil of an early spring day.

Jeongguk goes into the chorus again, and Jimin shoots up from the floor, throwing his body into a beautiful piece of choreography that mesmerizes Yoongi to a point he almost misses his cue to go to the front of the stage. He still watches Jimin as he goes, speechless at his ability to express longing and hurt through simple movements of his body.

Jimin freezes in place with his face to Yoongi. Taehyung sings the bridge, the torturous-sounding You know it all, you’re my best friend breaking Yoongi’s heart as he sees Jimin mouth it. He turns away then, joining Namjoon and Hoseok at the front.

The vocal line finishes the song as Yoongi admires the faces of the audience, their awe and unabashed adoration giving him the strength he needs to handle listening to Jimin sound like someone is torturing him as he belts out his lines. His I miss you knocks the breath out of Yoongi with its raw power and emotion, and he hopes nobody is giving a closeup of his face. It feels like dying.

Because he misses Jimin too, but they fucked it all up beyond repair, and it’s so painfully ironic that Yoongi finally realizes it now. He closes his eyes as the song ends and the lights go off, because he feels nineteen and desperate again. When the darkness steps away, he will wake up and end up back in his own body, and he’s afraid of that. So for now, he will allow himself to pretend for a while and miss his best friend as the spring day ends around them.

23

July 2018

Jimin locks his phone and puts it away. Then picks it up again and looks at the screen only to put it away a second later and repeat the process five more times. He’s painfully aware of Taehyung watching him but he simply can’t stop.

Taehyung’s own phone is active, but he isn’t looking at it, instead measuring Jimin with an unamused look over his glasses. “Anything good on Twitter?”

Jimin sniffs and tries to play it cool. “Yoongi’s dating some idol.”

Taehyung sighs and locks his phone, scooching closer and putting his hand around Jimin’s shoulders. “And how do we feel about that?”

“We don’t care,” Jimin says confidently, but then unlocks his phone again and stares at the picture of Yoongi happily holding hands with some dude.

Happily. That’s the key. He looks happy.

“And why are we lying?” Taehyung asks patiently.

“Because we’re not jealous,” Jimin says pointedly, glaring at him. “We don’t want to shade them on Twitter, and we don’t want to find a boyfriend too to rub it in his face.”

“I see.” Taehyung fixes his glasses and sighs. “You didn’t think he would stay single forever, right? And it’s not like he hasn’t dated before. It’s just the first time he’s open about it.”

“Well, I didn’t know before,” Jimin notes. “I didn’t have to look at it. I only had to obsess over the theoretical possibility of it.”

Taehyung gently pries the phone away from him and throws it on the armchair, as far away from Jimin as he can. Jimin watches it like a hawk, tempted to look at the picture again.

“It won’t change anything,” Taehyung says, guessing his thoughts. “And baby, it’s not like… You were an option. For him to date.”

“I know, it’s just…” Jimin picks at his jeans, frowning as he struggles to put a finger on what exactly he’s feeling. “It’s like in Friends, you know? We’ve been on and off for so many years, and I just figured…”

“That somewhere down the road, you’ll be on again?” Taehyung finishes for him, and Jimin nods.

“I never stopped…” He stumbles, grunting as he tries to say it out loud at least to Taehyung. “Loving him. Yes, it was a mess. It still is. But I could never shake off the feeling that we’re just waiting for the right moment.”

He puts his forehead against Taehyung’s shoulder and feels him kissing hair. “Don’t get mad at me, but you haven’t put that much effort into bringing that moment to life. You either ran away from him or dated someone else to put off the time you have to deal with it. Eventually, he was bound to get tired.”

“I know,” Jimin whines, feeling rather pathetic. “I’m a fucking coward.”

“Nah,” Taehyung whispers. “You’re just human.”

Jimin curls against Taehyung’s side, grateful for him in more ways than he can ever express. Taehyung even warned him once that this would happen, but Jimin didn’t hear it back then. Now, it doesn’t even matter anymore.

His phone lights up with a chiming sound, and Taehyung reaches over to take it. Jimin stares at the text, too tired to appreciate the irony of the timing.

namjoon: so I was thinking. the reception for spring day was incredible. what would you say if I proposed we make this one collab into a permanent thing?

Jimin shows the text to Taehyung, but Tae just shakes his head in confusion.

“I wonder why he didn’t send it to the group chat,” Taehyung murmurs, unlocking his own phone to check if he missed it.

jimin: like an actual group?

namjoon: yeah, something of a side project, with a full album and shit. maybe even multiple ones if it works out. nothing too serious, something that wouldn’t interfere with our independent schedules

jimin: that sounds interesting, but why are you texting just me?

Taehyung confirms there’s no texts in the group chats or even in his private messages with Joon, but as Jimin watches Namjoon type, he realizes he may know the reason.

namjoon: because I asked yoongi and he says he’ll do it only if you’re on board. I wasn’t sure about it, so I thought it’s better not to get everyone else excited when there’s a risk of it not working out. and it has to be all seven of us

Jimin lets Taehyung read everything as he stares into the air, his mind racing. Why did Yoongi say that if he’s so clearly showing he doesn’t care about Jimin anymore? Did he just… Get over his feelings? And now he wants them to be friends and colleagues again?

Does Jimin want it?

He switches to Twitter where the picture of Yoongi and his boyfriend is still open and looks at Yoongi’s happy wide eyes for a long time before deciding.

jimin: im sorry, joon. i cant. im really sorry.

namjoon: it’s okay, man. I really understand. but I had to try, didn’t i?

namjoon: for what it's worth, yoongi looked much happier with you

“Does everyone read my mind these days?” Jimin murmurs.

“No, but we’ve been around you two for years,” Taehyung drawls. “It was hard not to get attached to the idea of you two together.”

“That’s the point,” Jimin says with a sigh, throwing his head back. “It’s just an idea.”

24

September 2018

@multishmulti: just realized I’ve been on this yoonmin bullshit for five years already. I came here to listen to my tiny rapper and ended up in this hole

@yoongisfa: just out of general curiosity, do you genuinely believe in them?

@multishmulti: lol hun it’s stan twitter I don’t believe in anything. but I could never shake off the feeling there’s definitely something there. idk what exactly but there's too much questionable shit

@yoongisfa: idk all the theories just seem so inconsistent? like according to the most popular threads they went from hating to loving to hating each other again like seventeen times over the years

@romulusadhara: imagine how tired i am

@multishmulti: ik, it sounds like a shitty fanfic. tbh I’m not active about it as I used to be because Yoongi is with someone else now and his happiness is my number one priority. always.

@parkchim: I absolutely agree, but like???? I always wanted to just know already what’s up with them. like??? give me a reasonable explanation you hoes??? are you besties? are you enemies? are you fucking?

@bbiegoogie: try all of the above at the same time

@multishmulti: bruh you again. gonna claim you’re Taehyung’s stan acc again? dont disrespect my child like that.

@bbiegoogie: lol hun that was one time and I was drunk, y’alls tiny rapper dared me to drink every time gguk hits a high note in his latest album. I was hammered by the fourth song

@multishmulti: i hate you for the fact I REALLY WANT THAT TO BE TRUE cause that sounds like exactly the headassary they’d pull

[...]

@minungi: listening to answer by skit on repeat every hour of every day is self care

@chanjinbinz: it came out a month ago

@minungi: your point?

[...]

@multishmulti: [pennywise throwing the vodka bottle open and gulping it down] rewatched spring day and so far away lives again. don’t touch me I’m dead

[...]

@ParkJimin0513 [verified] quoted minungi’s tweet and said: mood tho. mic drop snaps

[3,9m likes] | [1,8m retweets] | [2,3m replies]

@multishmulti:NVM IM FUCJING ALIVE

@minungi: IM NOT

[...]

@RealMinYoongi [verified] @ParkJimin0513, you stinky liar you said it’s noise

@ParkJimin0513 [verified] @RealMinYoongi, first of all, noise can also sound awesome. second of all, when did I ever say that

@RealMinYoongi [verified] @ParkJimin0513, that time at our dorms when I drank Taehyung under the table with Gguk’s high notes. you said I won’t be able to do the same with you and I dared you to drink every time Hoseok changes flows in our new album

@ParkJimin0513 [verified] @RealMinYoongi, ah so that’s why I don’t remember that. okay whatever. noise or not noise it slaps

@RealMinYoongi [verified] @ParkJimin0513, say it to my face

@ParkJimin0513 [verified] @RealMinYoongi, bitch easy. come over, you know the address

@RealMinYoongi [verified] @ParkJimin0513, omw

@ParkJimin0513 [verified] @RealMinYoongi, grab smth, you know what I like

@RealMinYoongi [verified] @ParkJimin0513, oh I do

[...]

@minungi: did park,,,mfing jimin,,,,,,just booty called,,,,,,,min,,,,fucking yOONGI,,,,in front if millions of their fans???

@chanjinbinz: does Yoongi even remember he has a boyfriend??

@parkchim: i mean I’m as much of a yoonmin enthusiast as the next guy but come on that can sound like friendly banter...even if it sounds suggestive

[...]

@multishmulti: yoongi has a boyfriend that was just friendly banter yoongi has a boyfriend that was just friendly banter yoongi has a boyfriend that was just fr—

@multishumlti: wait

@multishumlti: when yoongi did what to taehyung with what?.....................

[...]

@koreaboo: Min Yoongi Splits with Idol Boyfriend a Day Before Flirting with Park Jimin on Twitter and Here’s What Fans Think about It [article attached]

@moonsugabin: think? who in this fandom managed to have a single thought? come forward we gotta talk

[...]

@RealMinYoongi [verified] lol. Jimin and I are barely friends, and trust me, I wouldn’t break up with someone over Park’s annoying ass. the separation was a mutual decision. we’re just different people, but it was fun while it lasted

[...]

@yoongisfa: tag yourself im Yoongi tweeting about his breakup and name-dropping Jimin twice without even mentioning his ex’s name

@bbiegoogie: i mean in a way he did mentions his ex’s name it just depends on how to look at it

@multishmulti: yOU

25

December 2018

They end up in bed again after another award show, just like their almost-broken tradition, but it’s the first time in all the years that doesn’t go according to the unspoken plan.

It starts with Jimin storming into their studio on a bright November morning, his wild eyes darting around the room. Yoongi doesn’t even bother getting up, just looks up from his phone and arches an eyebrow. Hoseok shifts where he’s lying on his lap but otherwise doesn’t react, and that’s probably a testament to how often Jimin is here these days.

Namjoon twirls around in his chair and looks at Jimin expectantly.

“Do we need to leave the room?” He asks without any greeting, looking between Yoongi and Jimin.

Yoongi contemplates throwing a pillow at him. It’s been what, two or three years since that ship has sunk? It’s been a long time since anything even twirled in that sea, anyway, but the rest of the group are still desperate to hold it over water.

Jimin frowns and looks at Yoongi like he just noticed he’s there, and there’s a flash of something passing between them, but he breaks out of it quickly, shaking his head.

“No, I need your help, actually,” he says shakily, taking a step toward Namjoon but then freezing as if he’s lost.

Namjoon puts down his cup and spreads his arms. “Sure, anything.”

“So,” Jimin breathes out, drumming his fingers on his thighs. “My company signed me up to perform at MAMA.”

“But you’re still on hiatus,” Hoseok points out, and Jimin bulges his eyes out at him in annoyance.

“Yeah, thanks, I’m aware,” he seethes. “If you don’t count Spring Day, I haven’t performed in… Fuck knows how long. And they want me to do a new song!”

“That’s fucked up,” Yoongi blurts out. “That’s like forcing you into being an idol without your consent.”

“Yeah, you’re familiar with the concept, aren’t you?” Jimin says fake-sweetly, and it hits Yoongi so hard he finds himself speechless. He gulps the air, trying to come up with a retaliation, but Jimin beats him to it, screwing up his face and looking away. “Shit, sorry, that’s not the same.”

“That’s not even in the same ballpark,” Yoongi grunts out. “I made a mistake. I thought we went over it already.”

Hoseok crawls down to the floor, too lethargic to get up apparently, and settles by Jimin’s legs, hugging his thighs and looking up at him with puppy eyes. “Don’t fight, please.”

Jimin sighs and ruffles his hair apologetically. “Anyway, I can’t get out of it. I dug up a song I wrote a few years back, and I was wondering if you could look at it and help me with the lyrics. Maybe even write the music for it?”

“Easy,” Yoongi chirps in, standing up and fixing his t-shirt. “You have it with you?”

There’s an awkward pause as Jimin’s eyes jump from Yoongi’s face to his shoulder. “You’re actually the last person I want to be looking at it.”

That… Hurts like a motherfucking bitch. Yoongi tries to conceal it, dropping his eyes to his phone and gluing his lips shut as to not emit any pathetic sounds, but he’s obviously not successful at it, seeing as Hoseok crawls back to him and switches his hugging efforts to Yoongi’s legs.

“Let me see it,” Namjoon says quietly, breaking up the tension.

Jimin unlocks his phone and presents it to Namjoon. Yoongi wants to look at them to at least gauge Namjoon’s reaction to this mysterious song, but he’s still trying to take control of the burning jealousy inside. So Jimin doesn’t want to show him his work. That… Fuck, that hurts.

He gets a grip on himself and looks at Namjoon, only to find him already looking back. Jimin’s eyes are pinned to the screen but they’re glazed over and faraway. Namjoon looks like he’s about to cry or scream.

“What?” Yoongi barks. “Is it a diss track about me?”

Jimin glares at him, but Yoongi keeps staring at Namjoon, summoning all the years of knowing him to help him crack the riddle of his perplexed facial expression.

“With how you two move, it might as well be,” Namjoon sighs. “Anyway, this already looks amazing, Chim. Send it over to me, I’ll tweak the lyrics a bit and come up with a beat. I can already see how it goes.”

Jimin breathes out in relief and smiles so brightly Yoongi wants to poke his dimple. Disgusting.

“Thank you, Joon,” Jimin bubbles, clapping his hands. “Working with you might even make this bearable.”

Yoongi ignores the warm smile Namjoon grants him with. It isn’t his business, apparently. It stings, but it isn’t about Jimin. He’s over Jimin, has been for a long time, and he can cuddle up to Namjoon all he wants, Yoongi doesn’t care. He fucking doesn’t.

And if he tries to wriggle the song details out of Namjoon for the following month, it still doesn’t prove shit. Yoongi may still love Jimin more than he’s ever loved anyone, but those are just memories stuck to the insides of his brain. He’s not in love with him anymore. How can he ever be?

///

Jimin looks nervous, fidgeting with his blouse as he waits for his turn to perform. Taehyung is hosting again this year, along with Suran, no matter how ironic that is, and Jeongguk and Seokjin are currently on, which is why Jimin’s usual support system isn’t an option here. Yoongi can’t take it.

He walks up to Jimin and bumps his shoulder lightly, smiling in the most non-threatening manner he can.

“You’ll do good, baby chick.”

Jimin furrows his brow, chuckling slightly. “You haven’t called me that in ages.”

“Doesn’t mean I forgot,” Yoongi says nervously. “Never mind the shit that happened between us, Jimin, you’ll always stay my baby chick. And he was always flawless. Just like you are now.”

Jimin makes a whining sound and throws himself on Yoongi, gripping him so tight Yoongi can feel every button on his blouse dig into his chest. He hugs him back, wrapping his palm around Jimin’s neck and kissing his cheek. “I’ll be cheering for you,” he whispers.

“Don’t hate me after it,” Jimin pleads. “I wrote it two years ago, after you… Rejected me for the first time.”

The memories don’t take long to crush into Yoongi’s mind — his dark room, the sounds of the rave going on in the living room slipping in through the door, Jimin’s drunk face chuckling at him in that infuriating mocking manner. It feels like hot tea he didn’t wait to cool down for before gulping it down. Burning his throat. Yoongi closes his eyes.

“I could never hate you,” he mutters. “Now go out and give them hell. I believe in you.”

Jimin laughs sharply, his eyes wet when he pulls away. “That’s quite ironic.”

Yoongi frowns but doesn’t have time to explore it further — Jimin’s cue is up, and he gives Yoongi a quick peck on the cheek before running off to take his place on stage.

Yoongi leans on the wall by the monitors and watches the dark screen, waiting for the song to start. Namjoon never gave up the details, even the genre of the song. He only said it’s fully in English, which is brave but not unexpected. He doesn’t really know what to expect, but considering it’s Jimin’s lyrics and voice and Namjoon’s music, it’s going to be amazing in any case.

His heart is beating so wildly he rubs his chest to calm it down, and that’s when the song starts, the repetitive yeah, yeah, yeah easing the audience in. Yoongi hears the crowd go wild when the lights go on and Jimin appears and can’t help but smile. That’s what Jiminnie deserves.

“This winter was as cold as you and I,” Jimin starts melancholically. “I know you're home, hoping I'm alright. How many times have I left you in the deep? I don't know why you still believe in me.”

A jolt of shock goes through Yoongi’s insides, setting them on fire so fast he feels whiplashed. So this isn’t a diss track.

It’s an apology.

Jimin’s eyes shine like the brightest stars as he goes into pre-chorus, his voice giving emotion to the words that are long overdue. “Oh and even at my darkest days, even in my lowest place, you love me the most. And even when I can't stay, even when I run away, you love me the most.”

Yoongi feels weightless, his legs so numb he can barely stand, and he grips the railing to keep upright as he still can’t look away from Jimin’s face on the screen, filled with so much sorrow and hurt Yoongi feels helpless.

“So why do I hurt you so? Is it 'cause I know? Why do I hurt you so? Is it 'cause you love me the most?”

His hand flies over his mouth to keep in the sob that forces itself out. Yoongi’s lungs suddenly quit their job, leaving him gasping for breath as he listens to Jimin’s voice almost break on the high note but carry on to give the chorus life. Fuck, no, he can’t do this, he can’t listen to it when he’s already decided he’s over Jimin, he can’t let it all surface again, he thought he buried it deep enough.

“Your tender touch is the feeling that I seek, I come to you when my judgement becomes weak, all that you are is all I ever need. I don't know why you still believe in me.”

“Because you’re the love of my fucking life,” Yoongi sobs, earning a few weird looks from the staff, but he doesn’t give a flying shit about them, because there he is, his fucking Park Jimin, old and new together in one person, belting out the lyrics that tear into Yoongi’s heart like claws of an old dragon he thought he’s slayed.

The song comes to an end faster than he can process, and he runs away further backstage as the finishing lyrics play out behind him, chasing him through the corridors and passageways.

“How many times have I left you in the deep? I don't know why you still believe in me.”

Fuck him.

Fuck you, Park Jimin, for choosing this song just when we barely established some resemblance of peace, when I finally learned how to breathe around you, when I thought I had it under control.

Fuck him for knowing Yoongi’s truth even when he thought he was so good at concealing it.

Because yes, at the end of the day, Yoongi still believes in him. Yoongi still loves Jimin. The most.

///

He manages to get himself together by the time they have to perform and receive another Daesang. He even thinks he looks like he didn’t have a breakdown in the dressing room half an hour earlier, but still decides to avoid Jimin for as long as he can.

The universe was never on his side, though, so when they move to the traditional after-party at their dorms, the crowd spits him out into the arms of none other than Park fucking Jimin.

Jimin catches him by the shoulders, holding him in place and looking at Yoongi with clarity he’s never seen before. It lasts for barely a second, but Yoongi gets a whiplashing flashback to the first time he stumbled into Jimin’s arms at one of these parties. Just before their first kiss. He swallows and steps away.

Jimin smiles uncomfortably and leans in to say something into Yoongi’s ear. “My head is killing me. Can I crash somewhere here?”

Yoongi, who expected another gut-wrenching confession out of him, almost yells out from relief, but controls himself, just nodding and circling Jimin’s wrist with his fingers.

Now, he could lay him down in one of the guest bedrooms — heavens knows they have enough of those after expanding, but some petty and whipped urge inside makes him lead Jimin to his own bedroom. He closes the door behind them, cutting off the screams and music, and smiles awkwardly at Jimin.

“You know where the bed is,” he attempts to joke, and Jimin chuckles quietly, nodding. “I’ll get you some Aspirin.”

When he comes back, Jimin is already under the covers, his clothes neatly laid out on the chair. Yoongi spots his own old T-shirt on Jimin and doesn’t comment. Makes sense, after all.

Jimin obediently takes the pill, and Yoongi tries not to look at his exposed shoulder when he gets up to wash it down. He suddenly feels like a schoolboy. Damn, they’ve had sex more times than they’ve talked about their feelings, so why is he suddenly this nervous?

He makes sure Jimin is comfortable and gets ready to leave, but all of a sudden, or maybe quite expectedly, there’s a hand on his wrist.

“Lie down with me, please,” Jimin asks. He sounds so vulnerable and sad Yoongi can’t do anything else but breathe out and walk around the bed to climb in and face Jimin.

It’s dark in here, only the streetlight from the window providing any kind of illumination, and as Yoongi looks at the curve of Jimin’s face in the semidarkness, he thinks that Jimin looks rather beautiful. But then again, he always does. Yoongi may have learned to suppress his feelings toward the guy, but he could never deny the obvious. Jimin is the prettiest person he knows, both inside and out.

“Did you like the song?” Jimin whispers with a twitch of his pinky on the pillow.

Yoongi follows its movement with his eyes, weirdly mesmerized. “Yes. The words were beautiful, and sung by you, they felt… Real.”

“They are real,” Jimin corrects him, but then makes a regretful sound. “But like I said, I wrote it two years ago.”

A lot has happened since then. They fought and made peace, and fought again, and kept fighting and bickering for months, because that always seemed easier. Yoongi once sang that forgetting Jimin would hurt less than resenting him, but he could never follow up with that. How could he forget him? Can you forget how to breathe or live? Can you just erase the knowledge of existing? No, you can’t. Which is why Yoongi could never forget how to love Jimin.

“They still apply,” he breathes out, not really sure if he’s asking or stating, but Jimin still knows what he means. Jimin always does.

“For me, they do,” Jimin murmurs, closing his eyes and moving forward until his forehead is pressed into Yoongi’s chest. “For me… Ah. Never mind.”

Yoongi doesn’t say anything to that, because he’s afraid he will get angry. Those two simple words have been haunting them for years now, and they always come out when he thinks he has a grip on it all. But if Jimin wants to hide behind them again, so be it.

His hand sneaks around Jimin’s waist to hold him closer, and that’s how they fall asleep — the truth still stuck between them and hanging in the air, wondering if it will ever be spoken aloud.

26

January 2019

bts groupchat (namjoon explain this name challenge failed)

jimin: guys please don’t believe anything you see on the news in a few minutes I can’t explain right now but please don’t believe it I promise you this wasn’t me,,,,I mean it was but fuck please don’t think I’m an asshole please

namjoon: what the hell?

taehyung: Chim?

jeongguk: what’s going on?

hoseok: baby talk to us what happened

seokjin: who do I fight Jimin just drop their names

yoongi: I’m gonna eviscerate every asshole that dared to hurt you I swear to god what’s going on

hoseok: Jimin?

jeongguk: holy shit guys

jeongguk: [Twitter link]

[...]

@koreaboo: Park Jimin Drug Abuse Evidence Surfaces Online — Company Representatives Speak of Terminating the Contract [article attached]

[...]

bts groupchat (namjoon explain this name challenge failed)

jimin: okay I can see y’all flooded the gc and I can’t answer everything immediately I’m still @ the company talking to my manager.

namjoon: they can’t fucking cut you because of some weed, Jimin, the entire industry is blazing away every day, are they even okay? it’s been fucking legal here for a decade

taehyung: something’s telling me it’s just an excuse

jimin: shit give me five minutes

yoongi: I’m in the area, do you need me to pick you up when you’re done?

seokjin: we’re about to catch the nearest flight from japan and burn them down

jeongguk: ^^^^^^^

taehyung: I’m speechless

jimin: okay I’m here. my career here is pretty much over, huh

hoseok: guys I’m bringing petrol

namjoon: okay my little arsonist squad, how about we let Jimin tell us what really happened

jimin: okay so. apparently my fans went fucking batshit after I performed at MAMA. my sales doubled in the past month compared to the two years of my hiatus combined. my manager contacted me asking me if I feel like coming back yet, and I tried to explain that no, I don’t. we’re in the middle of shooting, I’m not ready to go back to singing the shit they’re writing for me, and I’m not NEARLY ready to start fighting for some creative freedom. next thing I know I’m being fucking threatened. they come to my apartment and start saying that I’ve been arrogant for too long, and they’ve had enough, and they need me to do some music or they destroy my career altogether. seeing the shitstorm in the media right now, you can guess how far I told them to fuck off to.

jeongguk: what the FUCK

taehyung: I’m going to destroy them I swear to god.

seokjin: can they even do that?? what did your lawyer say?

jimin: well he reminded me they’re paying him and told me to just take the settlement money and leave quietly

hoseok: Joon, can we do something?? our lawyer is better that this scum we can help Jimin sue them for defamation and all the other shit

namjoon: I’m already contacting him. don’t worry, Chim, we won’t let them get away with it

taehyung: yeah and my company has been begging me to recruit you for years now so you won’t stay unemployed baby

seokjin: house of cards is under OUR company so nobody touches you there too boo

jeongguk: if they try, they’ll lose their best act

jimin: thank you, guys, I can’t even,, thank you. but right now I just want to go home and have a nervous breakdown tbh

yoongi: I’m by your company building, I’ll take you home, come down

///

Yoongi orders takeout and patiently endures Jimin’s silence for about twenty hours, which is exactly how long it takes for them to rewatch the first two seasons of Singularity. Yoongi falls asleep a few times over the course of this so-called marathon, but each time he wakes up, he finds Jimin in the same position as he’s left him.

The others tried texting and calling at first, but Jimin asked for some space for a bit, and they left him alone. Yoongi listened to the group call, dreading the moment Jimin hangs up and asks him to leave too, but it never happened. Yoongi even started suspecting Jimin doesn’t even realize Yoongi is here, but then he woke up to Jimin wrapped around him and dozing off.

At some point, Jimin’s resolve finally crumbled, and he broke down crying, the hysterics taking over him so hard he wasn’t able to speak for hours after. Yoongi held him through it, hating every single asshole that ever made Jiminnie feel this way. Jimin kept clinging to him for dear life, and he never once let go, because it dawned on him somewhere there — he’s let go of Jimin way too much in the last six years, and he’s tired. He’s tired of letting him get away. He’s tired of crying for him. He’s tired of not having him.

It comes to him slowly over the course of hours, but he lets it simmer inside, fermenting from a seed of doubt into a solid realization that he doesn’t want to let it drag on for longer. When the right time comes, he’ll tell Jimin that he wants to fight for them again, that he wants there to be a them, but not now, not when the last thing Jimin needs is some six-year old confession. No, Jimin needs a friend now, and that’s what Yoongi is, after all.

“You know,” Jimin finally says after two days of silence around four in the morning as his character dances the night away on screen. “In a way, I’m kinda relieved. They kicked me out, so I don’t have to come up with a way to do it myself. But now everybody hates me.”

“Nobody hates you, baby,” Yoongi assures him, drawing him close and kissing his hair. “I know you don’t want to open your phone, but I’ve checked the socials. People hate your company, but not you. They’re still trending hashtags in support of you.”

“Fuck, I didn’t even tweet anything for them,” Jimin groans, burying his face in Yoongi’s chest. “They must be worried sick.”

“They’ll live,” Yoongi murmurs. “Your peace of mind comes first.”

Jimin looks up and lies his head down on Yoongi’s shoulder. The bags under his eyes may be designer, but they’re still horrifying. Yoongi brushes his fingertips over his skin and frowns.

“You need sleep,” he whispers.

“No,” Jimin breathes out. “I need you.”

This feels like another one of those times. Another attempt on Jimin’s part to fixate on Yoongi rather than his own issues. But Jimin’s eyes burn the same way they did all those years ago on Yoongi’s balcony, right before they kissed for the first time, and in a way, it feels like another first.

So that’s why Yoongi gives in once again, kissing him carefully and gently, because he feels so fragile in Yoongi’s arms. There is still fire in his veins, though, the same familiar urgency that always accompanies everything Jimin does.

They don’t even get to the bedroom because Jimin sounds desperate to do something right the fuck now, and so Yoongi gives him whatever he needs, and there’s gonna be bruises on his back from bumping into the journal table at least seven times, and Jimin laughs into his ear at some point because he accidentally squished an egg roll with his arm, and it sounds like the most real sound to ever come out of him, and Yoongi drinks it all in, holding him and allowing them both the distraction.

///

“I missed this,” Jimin whispers in a hoarse voice, his fingers playing with Yoongi’s necklaces. They’re on the floor, and Yoongi sees the crack in the glass table where he pushed too hard, and it sends heat down his spine.

“Me too,” he murmurs.

It feels like the right time to bring up the whole ‘what are we’ thing, because heaven knows it’s been long overdue, but he still doesn’t want to break the serene atmosphere.

Jimin kisses his shoulders and neck, letting his lips linger near his ear. “How is it that you’re always my anchor, Yoon?”

Yoon. He hasn’t called Yoongi that in years, and while it’s sweet and nostalgic, it’s also so, so sad.

“Staying afloat isn’t swimming forward, baby chick,” he mutters. “You can’t keep doing this.”

Jimin frowns and huffs, pulling away. “Stop assuming I’m going to run off on you again.”

Yoongi turns his head and quirks an eyebrow. “Won’t you?”

Jimin mimics him like a kid, and Yoongi rolls his eyes. Jimin hits him on the shoulder and pouts. “I don’t know, actually. I feel the calmest when I’m with you, but also… I never feel right enough for you.”

Yoongi props himself on an elbow, flinching from digging into the carpet, and kisses his pout. “This isn’t a math test, Jimin. You don’t have to be some perfect version for me to love you.”

There’s that same vulnerability in Jimin’s eyes again, and Yoongi notes not for the first time how much he’s managed to change without actually… Changing. This here is the same Jiminnie who hid behind Yoongi’s quilt, embarrassed at being praised and hopeful for a kiss from his crush. But he’s also this new, hurt and battered but strong and fierce person who went through too much shit for his age. He’s perfect either way.

“I want the real you,” Yoongi whispers. “I always did. That guy is too amazing to hide for any longer. And never mind me, the world has to see him.”

“And what is the real me?” Jimin says evenly, coldly. “Enlighten me.”

“Sexy,” Yoongi blurts out, which earns him a glare. “But also lovely. Cute and unapologetic. Loud and kind. He was here when you just started out, but he got scared and chased away the longer you stewed in this industry. Now you’re free...”

“And I should set him free,” Jimin finishes for him with a whisper.

“Yeah.”

Jimin lies back down on his shoulder with a whine. “Why can’t I just stay here with you forever? No ties or expectations.”

It sounds so childish Yoongi wants to reprimand him, but then he remembers how painfully young Jimin is. Both of them are, even if it feels like they’ve lived several different lives since they were nineteen and broke as all fucks. Yoongi’s twenty-seven in two months, but his soul looks ninety with all the scars and scrapes on it. Ironically enough, the one responsible for a few of them is lying in Yoongi’s arms now.

“I can’t promise you not to expect shit,” Yoongi starts slowly, carefully choosing his words. “But I can promise you space. As long as you promise not to disappear on me again.”

Jimin finds his palm on his chest and intertwines their fingers with a hum. “Does this mean you’re not letting me bounce again?”

“Yep,” Yoongi chirps, tightening his hold on Jimin’s hand. “I’m tired of letting you go, Park.”

Jimin stays quiet, but his fingers grip Yoongi’s even firmer, and knowing him, it’s as good of an answer as Yoongi’s going to get. Perhaps, he’s okay with it. They’ve spent years rushing in and out of this thing. It’s time to take things slowly.

27

March 2019

Things go smoothly. Too smoothly, in Jimin’s opinion.

He finds enough strength to go on Twitter and write out an explanation for his fans without painting his ex-company like the assholes they are and sounding like he’s done something wrong. His fans aren’t idiots, and as lurking on his secret account supplied, nobody bought the shitty story his old management put out, and he almost tears up looking at all the support and praise he’s getting.

Yoongi is… Patient. They never actually agreed to be anything, but it’s also too late for them not to be something, so it’s basically like it used to be. They still hang out with the rest and bicker with each other, but now it’s not the ‘I hate you and hope you rot in hell’ banter but the flirting kind, the one that makes everybody constantly ask them to get a room. Which they do, quite often, and Jimin’s happy with how it is, but he knows Yoongi isn’t. There’s a talk brimming somewhere on the tip of Yoongi’s tongue which Jimin is desperately avoiding. Park Jimin is a lot of things but being good at healthy communication is not among them.

Taehyung’s company snatches him the second they arrive there to simply talk about the possibility. Jimin signs with them only after having his new lawyer go over the contract, and it’s flawless as expected because Taehyung basically runs the company, but still, he had to check. Never enough of the trust issues.

The shooting wraps in early March, and Jimin gets faced with the inevitable conclusion — he needs to get back to singing. Either that or get bored so much he starts breaking Yoongi’s heart all over again, and he’s way past the time it seemed like an option he can later try and fix.

He still hesitates, because there’s too many ways he can take with his new stage persona, and some part of him craves to fall into the familiar pattern of playing it safe, but another one has Yoongi’s words ringing in his head over and over again, urging him to take control and tell the truth about himself. Do something revolutionary. His reputation is already stained by having been under the shittiest company in the history of the industry, so what does he have to lose? He promised his fans the real him before he went on break. Might as well follow up on that.

These thoughts and ramblings haunt him for a few weeks until the answer comes in the all-powerful form of Min Yoongi’s email. There’s music and text files attached, and a single line that triggers a strong fight or flight response in him.

dare you to come back with this.

Jimin opens the lyrics file and skims through it, excitement and bafflement mixing inside of him the longer he reads.

“You motherfucker,” he breathes out in disbelief and looks up at Tae on the couch, the blunt he’s holding still unlit. “Put that out, we’re going to the studio.”

“But I just finished recording,” Taehyung drawls, but then it dawns on him, and he almost falls down with how quickly he gets up and calls for a car to pick them up.

Jimin laughs at him and looks at his phone again, the old fire waking up and taking over his consciousness.

He always chose fight over flight, after all, and Min Yoongi knows it better than anyone.

28

June 2019

Park Jimin makes his long-awaited comeback far away from home, entering the US stage directly after years of charting on it, and performing his latest single Unholy (prod. SUGA) on The Late Late Show with James Corden. The song reveals a new, wilder side of Park, and becomes a worldwide hit within four hours of its digital release. Kim Taehyung, Park’s costar and old friend, joined by another famous idol Jeon Jeongguk, perform the accompanying choreography, created by Park himself.

The lyrics spurn a heated discussion among the netizens, separating them into two camps. The first one, traditionalists, launch a campaign to take Unholy down from Korean streaming services, with which they incidentally double the streaming numbers of the song as the people unfamiliar with the idol scene rush to see what all the fuss is about. The second side of the discussion’s stance can be described in a rather succinct tweet by one of its representatives.

@yoongisfa: PARK JIMINNIE GO THE FUCK OFF

///

bts groupchat (namjoon explain this name challenge failed)

namjoon: I’M A LITTLE DRUNK I KNOW IT

seokjin: IMMA GET HIGH AS HELL

jeongguk: I’M A LITTLE BIT UNHOLY

hoseok: SO WHAT, SO IS EVERYONE ELSE

jimin: will y’all SHOOSH

taehyung: okay but the real question is,,,,did y’all really have sex on a table with the takeout?

yoongi: well it was more like _under_ it but I needed the words to fit the beat

jimin: YOONGI

yoongi: you sang that in front of the entire world but you’re too embarrassed to admit it before our friends???

jimin: i hate u

yoongi: sure min. that why you credited me in the title even tho I said you don’t have to?

jimin: I’m gonna retract it if you keep pissing me off

yoongi: ‘you hate me you love me I just wanna get some peace’

jimin: yep I’m retracting it

namjoon: anyway LET ME DO ME

seokjin: I’M A LITTLE DRUNK I KNOW IT

taehyung: IMMA GET HIGH AS HELL

jimin: sigh idiots

///

yoongles: is it me or are you upset

jiminnie: why do you think so

yoongles: idk it’s probably the whole knowing you since kindergarten thing

jiminnie: sigh I don’t know. like yeah I wanted you to be credited but I went on twitter and people are drawing parallels between unholy and so far away and calling it character growth but like,,they don’t know what really happened. it’s not the same. this was me reclaiming myself and my freedom, willingly saying I worked with you, and so far away was a mistake.

yoongles: are you still mad about it?

jimminie: no. I promise. but it’s all making me feel like…. I don’t know.

yoongles: like they’re missing the point? like they’re looking at our names together rather than at the message of the song?

jiminnie: yeah

yoongles: baby.. I’m sorry, I really am. do you want me to come over?

jiminnie: no, I think I need some space. I don’t want to project this on you right now

yoongles: okay.

///

@RealMinYoongi [verified] just came here to say how proud I am of Jiminnie for Unholy. it was an honor to write and compose for him. welcome back to the scene, baby chick

@ParkJimin0513 [verified] are you fucking kidding me, Min?

@RealMinYoongi [verified] ?

@ParkJimin0513 [verified] i JUST told you how I feel about that, and you go here and tweet it? do you WANT us not to talk for another six years?

@RealMinYoongi [verified] alright, I’m tired of walking on eggshells around you. I’m sorry that I hurt you by this, AGAIN, but there’s no need to make a scene out of this, park

@ParkJimin0513 [verified] as you wish. I won’t be making anything with you ever again.

@RealMinYoongi [verified] wow, very mature

[...]

@moonsugabin: the hell was that?,,,,

@bbiegoogie: another oncoming headache for me, that’s what it was

29

August 2019

Taehyung says it’s stupid, but then he hears about another option — to keep ignoring Yoongi, and admits that the first one is better. Jimin nods to himself, satisfied with getting his nagging out of the way, and enters the recording booth, ready to pour his soul out in hopes of getting Yoongi to forgive him.

As he sings out the lyrics he wrote last night, high off his mind and inspired off of all the memories, he thinks that’s it’s becoming a bad habit. Fucking up and then trying to fix it dramatically, but Yoongi isn’t answering his texts or calls, and Jimin is getting desperate. Losing what little contact he had with him hit Jimin harder than he expected, and at some point, it crashed into him — his inability to stay away from Min Yoongi.

And so he does the thing that always saves him from himself — he sings for Yoongi.

Standing on the platform, watching you go, is like no other pain I've ever known. To love someone so much, to have no control… You said, “I wanna see the world.” And I said, “Go”. I think I'm lost without you.

///

@multishmulti: with all due respect to jimin, yoongi, and the entire yoonmin community…

@multishumlti: can’t they text each other this shit

///

“You were the only safe haven that I've known,” Jimin sings softly from the speakers, and Yoongi grips the wheel, reminding himself not to be careless. “Hits me at full speed, feel like I can't breathe, and nobody knows this pain inside me. My world is crumbling, I should never have let you go.”

Oh, so now he gets it? Now he fucking gets it? Now he wants to apologize? Now he wants to tell Yoongi how it felt to stand on that bus station in Daegu and watch Yoongi drive away? Now?

“I just feel crushed without you. I've been strong for so long that I never thought how much I needed you. I think I'm lost without you.”

“Then why do you keep driving me away?” Yoongi barks out as soon as Jimin opens the door, his puffy red face distracting Yoongi for a second before he remembers why he’s even here.

“Because I’m a fucking idiot,” Jimin blurts out and blinks. “Wanna come in?”

Yoongi storms past him, so restless he wants to start throwing shit around. “You hate me, that’s what you keep trying to convey, Jimin, but then you turn around and write songs about me? What the fuck, Park?”

“Well, it worked, didn’t it?” Jimin says in a high-pitched voice, his hands on his waist. “And you’re the one to talk. I’ve listened to your entire discography, Yoongi, I know how much of me is in your lyrics.”

Yoongi throws his hands up and gasps. “You had my number blocked for like three collective years, how else was I supposed to get through?”

Jimin rolls his eyes. “Well, you haven’t responded to my texts. I needed to get your attention.”

“You got it,” Yoongi huffs out, crossing his arms on his chest. “What do you want?”

“You.”

That easy. Just one word, short and gentle. It blows Yoongi’s anger away in a single whoosh, and he stands there, helpless before Jimin once again.

“You can’t just say it and expect me to run to you every time,” he whispers, afraid his voice will crack if he speaks any louder.

“I don’t know another way,” Jimin murmurs, looking away and fidgeting. “I never did.”

Yoongi bites his lip and walks closer, taking him by the chin. He’s not as sad as he used to be, but there’s still something desperate hiding behind his irises. Yoongi frowns, trying to pinpoint what it is. “You’re still afraid of something.”

Jimin swallows and inhales shakily. “Everything, to be honest.”

“Talk to me,” Yoongi asks, deciding to put his own hurt feelings on hold. Heavens know he’s good at it.

“I know I said I’m starting an era of the real me,” Jimin bubbles out, his lips trembling. “But who even am I, Yoon? Do they want to see it? This mess of my feelings and anxiety, and insecurities and bluntness. I’m all over the place, and I’m insufferable, and I’m just… Looking back at what I did to you, and I feel like such a weak pathetic asshole.”

“You’re not,” Yoongi rushes to assure him, even if some petty side of him wants to agree. “You just fucked up a lot, but it doesn’t mean you’re an asshole.”

“Why are you so kind to me?” Jimin suddenly sobs out, tears spilling so fast Yoongi feels surprised. “I keep hurting you even though I’ve been in love with you since I was fucking fifteen.”

Yoongi’s mind screeches to a halt as it claws at the slipped-up confession, and he stares at Jimin’s terrified eyes in silent wonder.

“I mean…” Jimin sputters and steps away, rubbing his lips. “Shit, Yoongi—”

“Say it,” Yoongi asks, interrupting him. “Say it again.”

Jimin moans and shakes his head, his palm plastered over his mouth, and presses his back to the wall, his terrified eyes glued to Yoongi.

A certain weakness settles over Yoongi then, the tiredness he’s never known. He nods slightly, smacking his lips. “Okay, then. Never mind, Park Jimin.”

He’s almost at the door when Jimin catches up to him, grabbing his shoulder to turn him around and press their lips together. Yoongi allows the kiss to last for exactly the time it takes him to get himself under control.

“I told you once already,” he whispers, gently prying Jimin’s hands away. “Staying afloat doesn’t mean swimming forward. You can’t keep using me to excuse yourself. Wake the fuck up, Park.”

He leaves then, dragging his feet to the elevator and sitting in his car for around twenty minutes, Lost Without You still playing on loop as he tries to grasp the floating words forming themselves somewhere at the back of his mind. It’s not unusual that he wants to write a song about it.

The unusual thing, though, is that this particular song has been in his mind for years now. It just seems that now it is time for her to finally be born.

30

September 2019

Yoongi takes a deep breath.

The crowd is immense, chanting and bellowing behind him, and he closes his eyes for a second, drinking it in. It fills his soul up to the very brim but never overspills because there is still, even after all these years and all this success, enough space for something else. Something that would make him truly the happiest man in the Universe. But it isn’t there.

He doesn’t turn around, not quite yet, but instead looks up to see the illusion of him next to him on the stage, his smile the same as it was when they were teenagers, but it falls away quickly to be replaced with a sad frown.

He wants to apologize but it never did them any good. He swallows. Clears his throat into the mic.

Listen carefully, Jiminnie. This one's for you.

(Like they all are.)

“I ran while only looking forward…”

It started as the angry rant all those years ago, in his basement, where they saved themselves from the cold under his old radiator, and his mom kept looking at him sadly as if she pitied him for having such a silly dream. She never said it out loud, and he’s grateful for that, but the people who came after her weren’t so kind.

They were called lunatics, and he was assigned names and titles that still haunt his nightmares, but they pressed on, they broke down the old wall of the stagnating industry, and through their blood, sweat, and tears, they built a stage where everybody could walk freely. When he looks back at the path they’ve walked, he sees so many people following them, rappers and idols finally uniting, fighting for the thing that they always had in common — music.

Through all those years, Yoongi fought. He fought for his music, he fought for his friends, and he fought for his truth. It took up all his time, and maybe, that was for the best, because when he wasn’t fighting for the utopian world he craved, he was falling under the blows from the boy who started this dream with him.

It came to him, ironically, in a dream. He was chasing Jimin through a maze, always one step behind him and so desperate to catch up. It went on for ages, the dream becoming more cold and desperate the longer he ran, until he finally realized why he can’t catch Jimin and stopped in his tracks. Immediately, someone crashed into him from behind, and they went tumbling down on the ground, and as Yoongi turned his head to look at him, Jimin was looking back.

Because all the time Yoongi has been trying to catch him, Jimin was trying to catch him.

It sounded poetic in the dream, but as Yoongi woke up, he realized how dumb it actually was, and how much time they wasted in their endless competition of who can hurt the other more. Jimin could never learn to express his feelings, but wasn’t Yoongi the same? Every time he thought he can finally step forward and talk to Jimin, he chickened out, justifying it by Jimin’s flaws and claiming he loves him no matter what in the same breath.

It’s not easy, but engrave it on your chest. If you seem like you're going to crash, accelerate, kid, come on, never mind. Never mind.

He thought he wrote the last verse of Never Mind for Jimin specifically, but as Hoseok and Namjoon enter the stage to share it with him, he realizes — those words are for both Jimin and himself.

If it seems like you're going to crash, accelerate, kid.

Yoongi has been feeling like crashing for seven years now, and he kept standing up, kept walking further, kept accelerating. Because going too fast always seemed better than staying idle, and that was something Jimin figured out long before Yoongi. Jimin was the first one to leave the fantasy of being a kid behind, but Yoongi assumed he was just getting too caught up in fame.

No. Jimin always knew who he was, but he was not ready for the others to see it, and Yoongi only realizes it now.

They both fucked up, but as Yoongi closes his eyes and feels the illusionary touch of Jimin’s hand on his, he thinks — never mind. We’ll find each other again.

31

A week after Skit performs their new, previously unreleased song Never Mind, the net gets flooded with pictures of Park Jimin performing his debut single Serendipity and showing off his brand-new tattoo in a subtle yet powerful manner.

never mind is engraved into his chest in black ink, still a little red around the edges, but shining across his chest like a beacon for someone he is still hoping he didn’t lose completely. Park looks happy in the photos, his face glowing with something untold, a simple truth he thinks he is finally ready to admit out loud.

///

Jimin finds him on the floor of the basement, Polaroids scattered around him, Jimin’s old quilt settled on his lap. Yoongi doesn’t even look up when Jimin enters, as if he’s not at all surprised he’s here, in Daegu, in their old place.

“Remember this?” Yoongi murmurs, handing him a Polaroid.

Jimin takes it carefully, turning it over to see his own face smiling goofily at the camera, his eyes crossed as he waits for Yoongi to take the picture. He laughs, plopping down too, not caring about the dust dirtying his expensive clothes.

“My birthday at the beach,” he recalls, warmth filling his voice. “It was the last one we celebrated together.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi says quietly.

Jimin looks up to meet his eyes, and for the first time in seven years, he isn’t afraid Yoongi will see something on his face that would betray what he’s thinking. For the first time, he isn’t afraid to see the emotion written in the lines of Yoongi’s face.

“I love you,” Jimin says with a small smile. “I’m in love with you.”

Yoongi tilts his head funnily, like a cat trying to hear what’s happening in the other room, and squints his eyes funnily. “What was that again?”

Jimin yelps and jumps on him, knowing perfectly Yoongi will be ready to catch him, because he knows this man better than anyone else in the universe. Yoongi’s laughter bellows in Jimin’s chest as they fall on the floor, layers of dust exploding around them, dancing in the light like a cloud of grey snow.

“Nice tattoo you got there,” Yoongi grunts from where Jimin’s pinning him down.

“It’s just temporary,” Jimin says nonchalantly. “Figured it’s a good way to get into your pants, you know?”

Yoongi gasps dramatically and presses into Jimin’s sides, turning them over and sitting on top of him. He tries to appear angry, but Jimin looks so lovely with his face red and mischievous that he can’t help but to break out in a happy smile. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Yeah,” Jimin breathes out, touching Yoongi’s lips with his fingertips. “It’s real. Just like my feelings for you.”

“Okay,” Yoongi says evenly. “Okay, I can live with that.”

“Live with me, while you’re at it,” Jimin whispers, blinking rapidly.

Yoongi chuckles, caught up in the euphoria coursing through his veins, and leans forward to kiss Jimin like he’s never kissed him before — knowing that neither of them will run away after this.

“Sounds amazing,” he whispers.

It’s a good feeling — to be finally complete. After seven years of chasing after dreams, Min Yoongi finally has two things he’s always wanted the most — his music heard by the entire world and his best friend kissing him as if they’re going to spend eternity together.

If you ask him, that’s exactly what’s going to happen. The world isn’t perfect, and neither are them, but Yoongi has learned a great lot over his life, and the main thing is to never give up on something you love.

If you feel like you’re going to crash, accelerate. Never mind.

the end.