Chapter Text
“Who am I,” a question that I’ve been asking myself for my whole life.
A question that I will probably never be able to find the right answer for.
- Persona
Toucans fly around the top floor of the Kim plaza. Flamingoes too, except they don't fly, they stand and watch, powder puffs of pink casting silent judgement on the drunken hoard.
Jin wonders who shipped them in, Namjoon? He can't imagine it, but then again you can't put anything past a man in love.
From top to bottom the entire floor is decked out like the amazon rainforest, perfect copies of the fauna Namjoon has spent his life protecting crawling up gilded beam after gilded beam.
As he spins, half way through an improvised strip tease, Jin spots an ice statue among the canopy, Hobi and Namjoon's faces carved with dazzling precision, the two of them held in a dramatic but somehow fitting embrace. He doesn't need to wonder who ordered that little display, Taeyung's name is quite literally drilled into its side.
The love birds themselves stand front and centre, taking it in turns to throw hundred dollar bills on Jin's passionately dancing form, much to the pleasure of the watching crowd.
He recognises the editor of the New York Times, Devon Townshend side by side with the Duke of Westminster, one billionaire or another scattered like marbles, bottles of wine costing more than the rest of the engagement party combined gripped languidly by the neck.
If someone was to ask Kim Seokjin why he was performing a knock off impression of Magic Mike in front of some of the most influential and wealthy people in the world, he'd simply say habit.
On this a thousand foot floor, under a hundred foot champagne coloured chandelier, he isn't just Jin, he is Jeon Seokjin: life of the party, world famous bachelor and heir to the world's most prestigious hotel empire.
Tomorrow, his picture might end up in the New Yorker, better if he was lucky.
His picture might end up in an endless number of magazines, rumours of his antics spreading like wildfire through the elite and their delightfully vile children.
By tomorrow, his family's name will once more be linked with an unrivalled experience, a breathtaking showcase of excess, and when people stay at the Epiphany it is exactly that golden image that they buy.
Someone hurls a Rolex at the stage, diamond encrusted, 24 karat gold. Jin catches it with practiced ease, slipping it onto his own wrist as the crowd applauds in awe.
Of course, Jin has other reasons for this act beyond the chance of free publicity, reasons a little closer to home, reasons he would rather strip naked and sing for than give away.
The performance comes to an end before he can remove his underwear, Hoseok dragging him from the stage through bursts of uncontrolled laughter, Namjoon shaking his head in mock disapproval as they help him regain his modesty, a silk shirt here, a pair of Dior trousers there.
It's an old routine by now but the crowd still enjoy it, booing comedically as their fun gets dressed.
He catches his brother's eye across the room, Jeongguk sitting beside Taehyung as he rolls his eyes dramatically, affecting disappointment. Jin grins, bright, elastic, and his brother fails to fight his answering smile. He's used to the act by now, knows all the rules and regulations, just because he doesn't like it doesn't mean he can't occasionally enjoy it.
Hoseok slaps him playfully on the back, his mouth a heart of pleasure, his engagement ring still the size of a small diamond mine.
'You haven't changed a bit, hyung.' He declares, happily, Jin answering with a smooth shrug of his shoulders. That's the illusion, he thinks, the magic trick he's always required to perform for the crowd.
They can't know he has things to lose, people to lose. Those vultures, lips stained with red wine, eyes tinged with greed, they can't know about him. Jin stops himself before he can even think the name.
That person doesn't belong here.
He meets Hoseok's warm gaze and feels an immediate stab of guilt.
He could tell Hoseok about it all, has wanted to, but secrets have a way of leaking. In this world everyone has an ear pressed to your walls, looking for weaknesses.
Hoseok would never gossip, not about this, but he would push Jin to cross those carefully curated boundaries he's spent the last four years protecting.
Hoseok is too romantic, too new to this world.
Hope doesn't belong in this blood thirsty universe of socialites, and if there's one thing Hoseok embodies it's hope.
That truth is something only the old guard understands, the reason Namjoon hasn't told his fiancee where his best friend disappears when the social calendar is empty. The same reason Jin has never muttered a word about the sacrifices Namjoon had to make to have Hoseok in life.
It's better he doesn't know.
Things are easier like this.
Namjoon catches his eye as Taehyung pulls Hoseok onto the dance floor, their twined laughter rising over the glitching beat.
The look he gives Jin is of quiet concern, too subtle for anyone else to notice. They've gotten good at this, this silent signalling; are you okay? Do you need to get out of here? You look like you want to sink into the ground and die.
'I'm fine' Jin reassures him, hitching his smirk higher. He can't afford cracks in his mask tonight, not even in front of his best friend.
Especially not in front of the brother now hovering by his elbow.
'What's wrong?' Jeongguk demands, far too loudly.
Truthfully, Jin should have taught him the rules of high society years ago, taught him how to cover an awkward silence, bury a scandal before it rises, never ask a person what's wrong.
He hadn't, obviously, he couldn't do that to Jeongguk, he couldn't let this life own him too.
'I'm all good.’ Jin lies smoothly, leaning against the near abandoned bar at the corner of the plaza, his eyes subtly scanning for listeners.
He doesn't see any but he doesn't let his guard drop either, pulling Namjoon and Jeongguk to his side as he complains obnoxiously, 'It has just been too long since the gang was all together. Hell, it's enough to make a grown man cry.'
'Since when were you a grown man?' Jeongguk barbs, smirking.
'Hey!' Jin crys, 'respect your elders, I practically broke my spine to raise you!'
'The nanny raised me.'
Jin jabs him hard in the ribs, unable to stop the laughter bubbling in his chest, Namjoon's dimples already in full swing.
He wasn't lying when he said it had been too long, he misses his friends, he knows Jeongguk misses them too, the both of them wrapped up in New York, wrapped up in themselves…other people.
His chest tightens uncomfortably and Jin tries to distract himself from the pain, running a finger over the mouth of an empty wine glass behind him, letting the sound spread as the last of their laughter dies away.
He wants to stay in this moment, ride it out to its end so he can put it to bed tomorrow and go back to his life, back to New York, without regrets, knowing he did his job, and more importantly knowing he created some joy if not for himself than for Namjoon, his brother, Hoseok.
'Just call him.’ Commands Jeongguk in an undertone, his exasperation clear as day.
'I don't know what you're talking about' Jin denies easily, unashamed. Jeongguk huffs with all the dramatics of a seventeen year old boy, his phone yanked from the pocket of his burberry slacks, 'Fine, I'll do it instead.'
Jin's hands are reaching for the phone before Jeongguk even has time to press his finger to the home button, panic seizing him bodily by the neck. Unsurprisingly, his brother is faster, darting away with the phone raised high above his head, the lack of alcohol in his system an unfair advantage.
Jin rarely drinks, but it's expected in places like this. Not drinking would raise eyebrows, make people think he's trying to hide something. So instead he walks the line, drinks just enough to look convincing and never enough to make mistakes.
Until now.
'Give me the phone, Jeongguk.' He hisses, trying desperately to resist the urge to wrestle Jeongguk like he would in private.
'You're being stupid, Hyung.' His brother whisper yells, continuing to slip out of Jin's grip, 'he deserves to know, I thought you said you told each other everything.'
'Everything that matters.’ Jin replies, suddenly steely. He doesn't need this lecture, not again, not now and certainly not from his little brother.
"This matters,’ Jeongguk tries one last time, 'It's a part of who you are.'
For a split second Jin's face falls before he paints it blank, that sticky jolt of fear pushing like lead into the back of his mind as he wonders if Jeongguk is right.
He isn't, he tells himself. This isn't real and this certainly isn't you.
'Give me the phone, Jeongguk' He says again, patience cinders.
Maybe it's because Jeongguk knows he's pushed the wrong button or because Namjoon is definitely making some meaningful eye contact behind Jin's shoulder, but he finally relinquishes the phone, his face ever so slightly guilty.
His eyes are wide as a deer's when he says, 'I'm just trying to help you, Hyung.'
'He knows that,' Namjoon answers in Jin's steed, the diplomat making his rounds, 'but it's not something you need to worry about right now, just enjoy the party and I'll look after him, okay? He's my best man after all.'
Jeongguk nods, pacified if not satisfied, his eyes flicking to the dance floor where Namjoon's own brother still dances with his fiancee, both calling to Jeongguk through the crowd.
'Don't stay up too late,' Jin cautions before his brother can disappear, 'We've got an early flight to catch tomorrow, okay?'
Jeongguk juts out his chin, expression petulant, 'As if I'd forget.'
Namjoon laughs easily,
'He's like me,' he says, after carefully pushing Jeongguk back into the fun, 'never forgets a thing.'
Jeongguk darts easily through the jungle of bodies with a quick wave behind his shoulder. Jin doesn't bother to return it, already turning to rest his elbows on the bar top.
'Thank you.' He tells Namjoon as the man settles beside him, warmth spreading through his right side.
'Don’t mention it.'
Jin nods. He won't, it's how things work here, how they've always worked. They look out for each other, him and Namjoon. It isn't much, but at times like this it can mean everything.
That is, until your best friend betrays you and sides with your brother.
'He's right though,' Namjoon says after a moment’s silence, 'about calling, I mean. You've looked miserable all weekend, not-' Namjoon hurries to add before Jin can panic, 'that anyone but me would be able to notice.'
A gentle nudge.
‘Give yourself a break, hyung, just this once, you know the rest of the trip will be easier if you do.'
Jin shakes his head. 'It's too noisy to call him here'
'So go out to the balcony. I'll cover you if anyone asks.'
The phone glows in Jin's hands with use me, use me with enthusiasm. Just one look at its busy outer shell would tell you who it belonged to: a plethora of Spider-Man stickers stuck to its back instead of a case, a million little scuffs around the headphone jack from constant use, a lock screen of Jin and Jeongguk in Central Park smiling like idiots.
Jin knows the password, thinks it might even accept his finger print despite Jeongguk's protests otherwise.
It would be so easy just to call, barely three movements of his finger.
His own phone is locked in a safe in his suite for this exact reason, to resist this exact temptation, but he can't seem to care anymore.
Jin wants so badly he doesn't know how to stop.
'Thanks,' He tells Namjoon again, already starting towards the balcony, the phone gripped like a vice.
Namjoon's dimples are practically craters.
'Like I said,' he calls at Jin's retreating back, 'don't mention it.'
He'll be running for president soon, Jin thinks as he finds the balcony door unlocked, and if this goes well I'll vote for him for life.
The balcony door swings open.
London at night isn't a view Jin has ever thought about sharing. He grew up with it, one breathtaking sight among another. But as he stares at the shining lights before him, trying to identify all the places he's been in the last day alone, he thinks he'd like to share this moment, even over the phone.
He dials the number. Jeongguk has it saved of course, but he likes the mechanics of doing it himself, making this decision purposefully.
Yoongi answers on the third ring.
'Jeongguk?'
His voice is rough with sleep, confusion thick as a blanket. Jin can almost hear the sharp shake of his head as tries to force himself awake.
It's the time difference, Jin realises, guilt needling him. It's 12pm here which means it’s 5am there.
Yoongi should be asleep, Jin's always telling him to and now here he is, the disturbance.
'Sorry I woke you up,' He apologises, his voice a guilty whisper.
'Hyung?' Yoongi calls, recognising him instantly. Jin can't help but smile. 'Is something wrong?`
'Nothing is wrong,' Jin assures him quickly, knowing that if there was Yoongi would already be tying his shoelaces and marching to the nearest bus station.
Of course, that's because Yoongi thinks he's currently in Vermont helping his mother through the flu.
Jin doesn't think his mother has had the flu in forty years.
'Is your mother okay?' Yoongi asks, softly and Jin bites down on the guilt in his mouth.
'Indestructible,' Jin answers smoothly, trying to force a bounce into his tone, 'It wasn't as bad as it seemed.'
'That's great Jin, that's really great.' Yoongi tells him warmly, sincere but distracted. Jin can tell that by the repetition alone, as if Yoongi's forcing himself to stay on topic, to stay in this conversation and not another one in his head.
'Are you okay?' Jin asks, worry clenching in his stomach as he ticks off all the things that might have gone wrong in his week-long absence, all the things Yoongi wouldn't want to bother him with, all the things he'd try to cope with alone.
'Of course,' Yoongi replies quickly, his tone tinged with embarrassment, and surprisingly something a little like joy.
'I'm really good, Hyung. Something really good happened today, like something amazing.'
Jin grins, the cold London air pricking along his skin.
'Do I get to know what it is?'
Yoongi hums, deliberating, his excitement still bleeding through the line.
'No,' he decides at last. 'You'll have to wait until you're back.
'Bastard,' Jin admonishes without heart, his smile wide enough to ache.
'Takes one to know one, ' Yoongi teases back, quick and quiet and real. Real like everything else here is melting plastic. Real like I trust the person I am when we're together.
'I miss you.' Jin admits, just as quiet, as if even out here someone might be listening.
'Then come back to me.' Yoongi states simply, not some great love confession but a blunt truth, said as if it's the obvious option.
It is the obvious option.
I am, I am, I am.
'You should go to sleep,' Jin says instead, the noise of the party beginning to crawl its way onto the balcony.
The bouncy castle of Buckingham Palace has just been unveiled
'It's late and I'll be home tomorrow, fast as I can.' Private jet and all.
'I love you.' Yoongi whispers and Jin can tell he won't sleep again tonight. If it's almost five over there, Yoongi starts work at half past.
He spent his last few minutes of rest on the phone with Jin.
'Love you, too' He says, because it's the only thing he knows how to say when the weight of just how much he loves crashes down on him.
The call ends, Yoongi hates goodbyes, never waits long enough to hear them.
Jin is glad, he doesn't intend to make his anytime soon.
Taking a final gulp of the midnight air, Jin tucks Jeongguk's phone back into the pocket of his trousers and turns towards the balcony door once more.
Back towards a thousand eyes.
Inside, the crowd roars.