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“well, what if we don’t?” the question is posed innocently in a room of thirteen people. of those thirteen, six are caught in a whirlwind argument in which no one is opposed against another, it’s idea over idea. a ladder built in desperation as they try and claw their way to the top. it's another planning session for their album, that jimin sometimes bemoans even having to come to with seokjin when they're tired and feeling silly, because neither one of them feels strongly about any certain direction for the album itself, leaving that in the hands of some of the others.
jimin hears it when it’s said, but it’s quickly lost in yoongi's voice calmly asserting itself amongst the raising volumes it’s fighting against. it should have been jesus in the stormy sea, instantly bringing calm over the room.
but it doesn’t, the noise continues as jimin stares at taehyung, trying to wrap his head around what exactly just proposed, when namjoon raises his hand.
“wait, taehyung-ah. what did you just say?”
taehyung and jeongguk, while not having strong opinions on musical direction most of the time, never complain about these sessions. they listen with rapt attention, taehyung's expression often glazing over the way it does when he's trying to dissect something in his head. understand it.
“what if we just don’t?” taehyung poses again in a cool tone, with a flat expression. finally, the room falls quiet. but it’s without any sort of peace. jeongguk stares at him, bewildered, from the seat beside him. jimin can tell by the look on his face that the thought had never even began to cross his mind.
jimin knows it has never crossed his.
“what are you-” hoseok startles but yoongi interrupts him with an even, calm look, at his dongsaeng.
“he’s proposing we disband. unless my assumption is wrong?” jimin’s mind reels as he prepares himself for taehyung’s obvious waiting clarification.
taehyung doesn’t speak at all. he directs his gaze to the floor.
“look,” their marketing manager clears his throat uncomfortably. “we’ve gone too late tonight, you’re all tired. let’s-”
“no.” namjoon puts a firm hand on the table between them. “no, this is something, if taehyung has-”
“this discussion has gone too late,” seokjin murmurs and puts a soothing hand on namjoon’s back. “we’ll continue with you all,” he turns his face to their management team, “in the morning. we clearly have things to discuss as a group.” he says in a manner that leaves no room for debate on the topic.
there isn’t any. their managers clear their cramped office space quietly, looking dead on their feet, as the hours are climbing into the early morning. they have a commute home to make. the seven of them only have a commute across the hall.
the quiet only serves to rattle namjoon’s temper. jimin watches as his hand curls into a fist. “ why ,” he controls his tone. “ why are you saying such a thing?” he asks in a barely-controlled mutter.
“if we can’t come to an agreement-” taehyung begins his reply plaintively, before hoseok is scoffing.
“ bullshit . we disagree every fucking day, taehyung-ah. fucking spare us .” he grits. “what is going on?”
taehyung keeps his eyes on the floor, but his fingers clutch at the leg of his pant. “i just think-”
“you’re kidding?!” jeongguk bursts out of his seat all at once, like he has absorbed all of namjoon’s reserved rage and there isn’t space for it in his smaller stature. “you’re SERIOUS?!”
“jeongguk-ah,” yoongi scolds sternly. “respect your hyung. he’s speaking.”
“HYUNG,” jeongguk whines disparagingly, “you can’t be-”
“sit down.”
taehyung grits his teeth. “we want different things. the end of bts doesn’t mean the end of music for you, jeongguk.”
jimin feels panic rise in his throat.
maybe he’s right.
maybe he’s right about jeongguk.
he doesn’t mention the rest.
it feels like jimin’s time is just about to begin and taehyung is threatening it with callous, non-chalant words. panic overwhelms jimin.
he’d rather die.
he’d rather die than let it end here.
“how dare you.” jimin grits out. he grips the arm of the chair he sits in so aggressively it would threaten to splinter if it weren’t plastic.
taehyung’s head finally rises. “pardon?”
“how fucking DARE YOU,” jimin yells, crashing from him with a volume that would shock him if he weren’t too busy feeling. he rises to his feet but doesn’t notice. the feeling, it cuts through the numbness that’s overtaken him for several weeks, carves into him, makes him feel alive the way dangerous situations make someone feel alive. jimin hates this feeling. jimin never cared for the edge. “how DARE you stop believing in us NOW.”
taehyung, always on his wavelength, always matching him, stands too, “i NEVER stopped believing in anything,” he insists. jeongguk stands too, but doesn’t actually manage to step a foot onto the battleground taehyung and jimin have created, before jimin’s reckless reply comes barreling out of him.
“so why the FUCK are you out here spouting this BULLSHIT-”
“ARE YOU HAPPY??” taehyung screams, like he’s been given permission to breathe for the first time in months and every single intake has been harboring within him only to be let go on three words.
jimin stumbles back. he can’t answer that. he couldn’t the other night, not really, not with the yes or no that the question poses, and certainly not the yes or no that taehyung is demanding of him. jimin doesn’t have time to notice the others reactions to it, because his eyes are locked on taehyung’s. taehyung searches his face with his eyes, looking desperately, and jimin feels seen. in a way he hasn’t been, not by taehyung, in a while.
taehyung looks away first, searches the faces of the others. “are any of us... happy?”
silence falls over them. jimin shuts his eyes because tears threaten to well up in them.
no, but no.
no, no, no.
this cannot be happening.
“i’m happy when i’m on stage,” jeongguk finally offers in a simple voice. jimin hears the creak of his chair. “i’m my happiest when i’m on stage.”
“me too,” jimin replies, his voice small.
“i don't,” he hears jeongguk choke up, and jimin clamps his eyes even harder. “i don’t want to give it up.”
“taehyung-ah,” namjoon’s voice cuts through, much more level-headed than it had been the last time he had spoken. “how do you feel, right now? i asked you why, and you… you still haven’t answered me.”
“i’m… uncomfortable.”
“well, it is late and that chair sucks.” hoseok adds lightheartedly.
it cracks some of the tension in the room, jimin huffs on his own breath, and he can open his eyes without tears falling, to see a slight smile on taehyung’s face. yoongi shakes his head, and has his face in his palm, but jimin can see a smile beneath it, too.
“uncomfortable how?” namjoon presses.
“we can get new chairs. probably. we can afford things now,” hoseok offers.
“it’s so…” taehyung grips his fist in front of himself, “vague. and enormous. it’s overwhelming.” the room waits for him to elaborate. jeongguk wipes off his tears and straightens in his seat. seokjin stares directly at taehyung with intense focus. “like… like i made the choice to go into this dark tunnel thinking it would… it would take me, and us, and everything to this bright light at the end. and then… then we got there. and it only lasted… so long. and we…”
“we have to keep going,” yoongi hums his understanding.
“into the dark again.” seokjin adds.
“and this time… it’s not exciting. it was the first time. now it’s just darkness that’s vast and…” taehyung licks his lips. “and without promises. and… i’m tired. and i keep thinking the energy is going to come back. and it just… hasn’t.”
“not yet,” jimin says suddenly. he feels a tear slip down his cheek and wipes it away quickly before it can be seen.
“jimin-ah,” he hears seokjin tsk softly, “are you crying?”
“no,” jimin answers, crying. “not yet, taehyungie. it will. we just,” he puts his hands on the table between them. “we have to keep going.”
“how do you know?” taehyung asks kindly, tears threatening to fall down his face, too.
“i do. just stay by my side until then.” he tells him. a tear does fall down taehyung’s face and jimin stands to clear it from his cheek from his sleeve.
“taehyung,” namjoon sighs sadly. jimin doesn’t tear his gaze from taehyung’s face.
“i want this so badly, taehyungie. please want it with me.”
taehyung cries more openly, restrained tears falling recklessly down his cheeks. “i don’t know if i do,” he whispers in a voice quiet enough that jimin isn’t certain it reaches anyone but himself. taehyung looks different, tears on his face, eyes puffy, face flushed and hot beneath jimin’s palm.
jimin feels dizzy. the table digs into his thighs and so he falls away from it, planting his hands on the table. “i’m asking you to try-,” his fingers curl, “all i’m asking for is you to try-”
“i AM trying,” taehyung’s voice turns for the bitter. “i’m trying SO fucking hard, and if you can’t see it, then-” his shaking voice rises.
“don’t yell at jimin.” jeongguk’s voice cuts through like a sharp knife through potato. jimin whips his head in his direction. jeongguk looks shy at the sternness in his own voice. “please. hyung,” he backtracks. “let’s not yell at each other.”
“jeongguk-ah is right.” namjoon’s voice matches jeongguk’s previous tone. “even if he should be watching his tone. but there is no try, here.” taehyung’s head falls. jimin turns to namjoon and stares. the determination in his eyes is so visceral, it paints pictures. it writes songs, all on its own. “so many people are waiting, expecting us, to fail this. but we have our fans. we have army, who are expecting us. we are going to do this, but we can only do it if we want to. you can always tell if someone is making music they don’t want to make.” he enunciates clearly, tapping his hand on the table, leaning between the seven of them. “so our only solution here is to come up with a comeback you want people to see.” namjoon stares around the room in a clean sleep. “that we all want people to see. our fans to see.”
“whatever this is,” seokjin hums, “we have to want it.”
“we all do,” yoongi stares down taehyung. “we will write you a song you want to show army over and over again. whatever it is.”
“even if it involves, like, a daisy costume and a saxophone solo,” hoseok adds, finally reaching out to grip taehyung’s shoulder and give him an encouraging shake.
“army would probably love that,” yoongi joins in a horrified whisper.
“i would do it.” jimin says without skipping a beat. he would. he would wear whatever ludacris costumes the production team came up with for him. the members all turn their eyes to him, but all he can do is shrug. he keeps his eyes where they can’t seem to stray from that night, taehyung. “i don’t know how to make myself happy,” he tells him, and really only him.”i know how to make others happy. i want to make army happy. that’s… that’s all i want to do.”
“i mean,” taehyung swallows. “i still want that, too.”
“unfortunately, that’s the easy part.” seokjin mutters. he uncrosses his arm and finally stands beside namjoon, looking out over the rest. “this obviously isn’t over, we’re still in the dark, blah- whatever poetic thing taehyungie said. but we’ve got flashlights, i guess, in our fans. they might be shitty or whatever, but, like. seven shitty flashlights pointed in the same direction is one hell of a lot better than seven flashlights trying to do their own thing. i-” he shuts his eyes. “i’m fucking tired though. so i’m taking me and my flashlight to bed.”
“...we should rest,” namjoon agrees.
it takes a moment, but they do stagger from that room and break off towards their rooms. jimin has half a mind to check on jeongguk, and make sure he’s okay, when he feels a hand slip into his before he can fully stumble out of the room.
“i’m sorry i yelled.” taehyung tells him remorsefully.
jimin squeezes his hand. “ i’m sorry i yelled,” jimin dodges. “i just… i panicked, taehyung. for a moment there, i felt like i- tonight, i just. i felt like i barely knew who you were anymore.”
it’s quiet for a long moment, them standing together holding hands.
“me too,” taehyung says on an exhale.