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One cut. For how he couldn’t sing well last night at their concert. How selfish he was that time, not making sure to perform his best in front of ARMY.
Two. For how he argued with Jin, insulting him and making him angry. How childish he was that time.
Three. For how he shook hands with Jimin, causing Taekookers to aggressively go after Jimin, leaving hate comments. How inconsiderate he was that time.
Four. For being the heaviest in the team. He was so fat.
Five. For messing up the dance moves in On, making Hobi mad. How unskilled of him.
Six. For not getting along with Yoongi and making him sigh in annoyance.
Seven. For not trying to learn English better, making his English teacher, Namjoon, impatient with him. how stupid of him.
hello hello hello, let me show you how to be zero, zero, zero
Taehyung watched the droplets of red blood well up on his wrist, row after row, with a twisted smile on his face. It hurt, so much, sometimes he felt as if he couldn’t bear it anymore, but not as much as he couldn’t bear the dull stabbing pain in his heart. He never feared physical pain anyways; it was emotional pain that hurt the most. His phone lay next to him, screen still bright, showing the comments on Twitter.
“Taehyung should leave BTS.”
“What a shame to the group.”
What if he died now? What happened after death, Taehyung wondered. Would it be so bad? He would see his grandparents again, wouldn’t he? He stared at the numerous scars on his arm, some already fading and white, but some bright red, oozing blood from the gash. There were so many that the scars reached his upper arm. He liked the look of them—they made Taehyung feel comfortable, watching the red lines that were just cut becoming thicker and thicker as blood flowed out.
I stay up all night
Tell myself I’m alright
Taehyung giggled.
“This was the best day ever!” he chirped.
Fuck this shit. This was the worst day ever.
Taehyung just wanted to return to his bathroom and use his razor to draw on his own skin.
Sunday night, I’ve been all over my head
Wondering if I gotta try and pretend
Small hands hugged his waist from the back. Jimin. Taehyung shrugged his hands away, ignoring the genuine hurt on his friend’s face. He was definitely not in the mood for hugs and cuddles.
You were there with me through all the times I cried
I was there for you before I lost my mind
Taehyung was again mapping his own skin, sighing in content as he felt the cool blade slide over his scarred and scabbed skin over and over again. Until… a tentative knock came from the bathroom door.
“Tae, are you in there? I bought fried chicken for us to share.”
Fuck. Taehyung had forgotten to lock the door in his eagerness to return to the comfort of the razor. Uh oh, this was bad. Especially when the voice was Jimin. Taehyung’s body desperately wanted to betray him, to make him open the door and throw himself into Jimin’s embrace, so that Jimin could whisper warm words of comfort to him. But Taehyung froze and said nothing, grasping the razor in one hand.
“No? Then good, I have to use the bathroom and this time you won’t be here hogging it.”
Taehyung hissed. Fuck fuck fuck.
The doorknob turned and Jimin’s eyes widened at Taehyung crouching against the bathroom door, blood staining his light beige shirt he had worn for filming earlier. Jimin’s mouth flew open, but nothing struck him as much as when he saw the shiny blade of the razor in Taehyung’s hands that explained everything.
“No no no no no no, Tae, no…” Jimin flew to Taehyung’s side, helplessly staring at the blood red lines on his arm. Sobs racked Jimin’s body, and he latched himself onto Taehyung tightly, as if the latter would disappear anytime. Tears flowed earnestly down Jimin’s face as he felt his soulmate’s faint heartbeat beating through his bloody shirt. “Taehyung-ah.”
Taehyung looked straight ahead, not acknowledging Jimin, not reciprocating the tight hug, simply clutching onto the razor as if it were a lifeline.
When Jimin’s sobs had subsided, he decided he had to stay strong for Taehyung. After all, he was older, even just for less than two and a half months.
“Let go, Tae,” Jimin hummed encouragingly, gently prying the weapon away from Taehyung’s large hands.
After a while, Taehyung’s grip on the razor loosened and Jimin flung the razor away immediately. Tae seemed to have come to his normal senses, acknowledging that Jimin was here with him now, and looking at his wrists, Jimin’s hand encircling one of them.
“Tae-ah, talk to me…How do you feel?”
How do you feel. Four words, that seemed so simple, yet held so much emotions, so much pain in them. And this time, Taehyung was tired of saying “I’m feeling good, thanks” anymore.
A dam broke in Taehyung’s heart. The soft call of Jimin to him lulled directly into his brain, which was already begging to release all its sad memories and he broke down in Jimin’s arms. His shoulders heaved with each anguished cry, leaving Jimin holding Taehyung, pressing Taehyung’s body to himself, and swallowing down the incredibly heavy lump in his own throat.
The night passed with Taehyung curling up in Jimin’s lap, exhausted from all the crying, injured hands tucked under himself, and Jimin’s fingers entangled in Taehyung’s long locks.
So now
I’m holding this pain
Tae woke up at four the next morning, staring into space, having broken out from Jimin’s embrace. He still needed time to process what happened last night. He just remembered Jimin coming in and staying with him.
Wait, that was bad. He had made Jimin worried about him and not able to get proper sleep, then at the concert tomorrow, Jimin wouldn’t be able to perform well, and ARMY would again send hate to Jimin. And it was all his fault.
His fault.
Crap, where was his razor when he needed it now?
Save me save me
I need your love before I fall
Fall
He didn’t care about anything right now; just needed the razor. Obviously, he made a huge racket trying to find it, so Jimin woke, startled at the sight of Taehyung turning the bathroom inside out frantically. Then Jimin understood. He wrapped Taehyung in his arms, tightening his grip on his friend’s flailing arms. “Shh, you’re okay, Tae. You really are.”
As soon as Taehyung was settled down against the bathroom door, Jimin looked into his friend’s eyes. They were beautiful, as always, but the sadness in them was overwhelming, as if it were a whole tsunami trying to drown Taehyung. “Tae? Give me a number.” Jimin prompted. This was their usual way of sorting out problems. Though they hadn’t come across anything like Tae’s problem before, Jimin had to admit. “Tae? Please?” Jimin tried again, despaired by the indifference in Taehyung’s expression.
“Nine,” Taehyung managed to croak out.
Jimin sucked in a breath. Both of them knew what nine meant. It meant that Tae was one step away from ending everything. It meant that if he got worse, Jimin would never see him again.
“Ok, so would you mind if I tell the other members?” Jimin was expecting a defiant no from Taehyung, followed by an angry rebuttal saying that there was nothing wrong with him.
“Whatever,” Taehyung said. His secret was out anyways, there was no point in hiding it anymore.
Jimin got to his feet hesitantly. “Okay… so I’ll be telling Jin-hyung. Stay here and don’t try anything, okay?”
“Don’t worry.”
Jimin shivered. Taehyung had often said that to him before, but with a crinkle of his eyes and an upturned mouth, seeming to tease Jimin, who was probably being too paranoid at that time. It was the first time Jimin saw him say this to him in such a cold, bitter tone.
As Jimin expected, Jin’s motherly instincts took over the moment Jimin led him into the bathroom. Taehyung never really said anything about Jin’s presence, just let Jin fuss around him, touch his cuts, hug him while he himself stared distantly. Jimin, watching at the bathroom door, looked at both of them worriedly.
“Can I talk to Jimin alone?” Most unexpectedly, Taehyung said.
Jin eyed Jimin at the doorway, who nodded, so Jin left the room with one last stroke of Taehyung’s hands.
“Do you hate me?” Taehyung blurted out.
“What? No! No one would hate you, you sweet soul! You’re the kindest person I know on Earth!” Jimin argued fiercely.
“You’re lying right?” Taehyung gestured at his phone, with an ironic fake curve of his lips. That phrase softly uttered by Taehyung’s mouth seemed like a deafening complaint to the cruelty of people. Sometimes Taehyung wondered why they were the same species—humans living on the Earth, yet some of them were so… vicious.
Yelling at the sky
Screaming at the world
How do I trust
How do I trust again
Jimin picked his phone up. Unlocked it. They had shared phone passwords since years ago as a sign of their true friendship. People always laughed at them for being like a couple. But none of the two seemed to mind that, strangely.
Ah. Twitter. No wonder.
“Taehyung, look at me.” Jimin urged. Taehyung slowly averted his eyes to meet Jimin’s almond chestnut eyes. Jimin looked into Tae’s darker eyes and saw thousands of untold stories there. “You’d rather listen to people on the Internet who you don’t know than me? Than your best friend? Your soulmate?”
“No, it’s just… It’s hard to ignore when you have millions of people saying that.”
“Taehyung, I fucking love you and you know it. The members fucking love you as well and you know that. True ARMYs fucking love you and you know it. These people,” Jimin waved a dismissive hand to Taehyung’s phone, “are nothing, I repeat, absolutely nothing compared all those who love you so fucking much. You are beautiful, you are talented, you are perfect, Kim Taehyung. Don’t you dare let anyone else convince you against that.”
But you’ll never know unless you walk in my shoes
You’ll never know my tangles strings
‘Cause everybody sees what they want to see
It’s easier to judge me than to believe
“So…”
Jimin cupped Taehyung’s tear-stained cheeks with both of his small hands, tears flooding down his own. “So you are loved. You are the reason why I wake up every morning. And don’t you dare change that, you fucking bastard.”
Taehyung slowly reaching his hand upwards to enfold his soulmate’s on his cheek.
Let the rain, wash away, all the pain of yesterday
I know my kingdom awaits, and they’ve forgiven my mistakes
I’m coming home, I’m coming home
Tell the world I’m coming home
One day, when this cheer dies down, please stay, hey,
You are my soulmate.