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Jimin couldn't pinpoint exactly what was wrong.
But he knew something was wrong.
There was an unexplainable rigidness in his chest, an uncommon acidity in his stomach, a weird pressure on his head. He wasn't in actual pain, not really, but something just felt... Off.
And he knew that - unlike the effects - the cause of this uncomfortableness wasn't physical; he was perfectly healthy, thank you very much. This sudden sickness originated from something more... abstract than just a common illness. Something harder to put into words.
It was an spiritual affliction, that manifested itself on his body. That's the only way he could explain it.
His emotions were all over the place, and he didn't know why. He felt like something bad was happening, but he didn't know where. His anxiety and nervousness kept increasing, for no apparent reason.
Again, something really wasn't right. And he feared finding out what.
"Are you okay?" Jungkook asked, from the chair next to him.
They were both getting their makeup done for a photoshoot. The other members were scattered around them as well, in various stages of their personal transformation. Some were still dressing up. Others, almost done with the final look. And one, was absent... When he shouldn't be.
"Yeah, I'm okay." He exhaled. "Have you seen Taehyung around?"
"He texted me an hour ago. Said he was leaving the studio and coming here... Maybe he's stuck in traffic?"
Jimin's concern worsened. He grabbed his phone and texted his best friend, already frowning. The message was delivered, but it remained unseen. Taehyung wasn't even online.
"Hey, do you know where Tae is?" Namjoon popped up from behind, and seemed just as agitated and on edge as the dancer.
"No, and he isn't replying to my texts."
"He told me that he was leaving the studio..."
"Kookie, as you yourself just said it, that was an hour ago. I'm worried."
"Me too." Their leader confessed. "He's arrived late before, but not this late... I think something's up."
"I'll try calling him this time." Jungkook sighed. "He's probably busy driving."
As he waited for Taehyung to pick up, Jimin bent his body forward and whimpered, loudly.
"Hey... You okay?" Namjoon asked, setting his huge hand on his back.
"Hurts..." The grimacing singer tried to straighten up his posture again. "I just f-felt like someone punched me in the guts. Damn."
"Well, it can't be your appendix, you already removed that."
Jimin rolled his eyes and took a couple of deep breaths in, trying to recover from the unexplainable pang in his torso.
"He still isn't picking up." Jungkook shook his head.
"I'm going to talk with Sejin. Ask him to call the guys at his studio, and see if they know anything. In the meanwhile, you two should go and get your photos done. We'll leave the group ones for later."
"Jimin-ah?" The maknae whispered, once their hyung left. "What are you feeling?"
"Pain. A lot."
"Where?"
"Everywhere, but... My abdomen is the worst. I don't know what's going on."
"Did you eat something that upset your stomach?"
"No, no... It's not that. This pain... It's not really physical."
"What do you mean?"
"Do you know that feeling... When you cry a lot, and you feel exhausted? Like someone kicked your ass and then ran you over with a truck? And you can't really move because you're just... Drained? Cramped?"
"Yeah?"
"It's like that, but ten times worse."
"But... I thought you were feeling fine today."
"I was! I'm not in the crying mood at all, but it's... Aish. How do I explain this..." He shook his head. "It feels like the way I would react after having a huge, horrible panic attack. But I haven't had one... It's like my soul hurts, not my body."
"I'm sorry... That sounds... Awful." Jungkook eyed him with pity, before grabbing one of his hands and kissing it. "I don't really understand what's happening, but... If you start to feel worse, just tell us, Okay?"
"I will." Jimin nodded, and flinched again.
The maknae stood up, and smiled at him briefly before walking towards the door. Just as he was about to do the same, jumping to his feet, his phone started ringing. Taehyung's name flashed across the screen. Quickly, he picked it up.
"Tae? Where are you?-"
"I'm sorry, who is this talking?" It wasn't his best friend's voice on the other side of the line, but a stranger's.
"... Where's Taehyung?"
"He's okay, don't worry. I'm a paramedic. He... Had a car accident, and we're here to take him to the hospital."
Jimin's legs weakened, and he fell down onto his chair again.
"W-What?"
"Sir, I need you to tell me your name."
"P-Park Jimin."
The EMT said something to one of his colleagues in the back of the call. He was confirming that his patient was, indeed, an Idol.
"Alright sir, we're taking him to..."
"Jimin?" Hoseok spoke over the man on the line. He'd approached him after seeing his shocked, teary eyed face on the mirror. "What's going on?"
The younger dancer raised one hand to shush him, and remained quiet, listening to the paramedic's instructions.
"... Thank you so much. We'll be there soon." Then, he hung up, and looked at his hyung. "Call the others, and tell Sejin to reschedule this shoot. Taehyung's being taken to a hospital. He crashed his car against a Taxi."
---
Thank heavens, Taehyung wasn't hurt that badly. His chest was bruised, he had cracked a couple of ribs, and sprained a ligament of his left hand, but his mind was awake and responsive. That's the only thing that really mattered.
"The airbag hit me harder than that taxi." He joked, staring at Jimin. "And the seat belt? Holy shit... My abs are all kind of black and blue right now."
Even after everyone had left, the older singer had decided to stay, and take care of his soulmate until one of his family members arrived from Daegu.
"At least they kept you alive. It's better to be bruised than dead."
"Good point." He chuckled softly. "But still, it hurts."
"I'm sorry, Taehyungie. I wish I could take your pain away." Jimin began to thread his fingers through his hair, gently massaging his scalp.
"Talking about pain; Jungkook told me you weren't feeling very well today. Shouldn't you go home and rest?"
"I'm not leaving you here, all alone. I'm on best friend duty tonight." He smiled. "Besides, I'm already feeling better. It wasn't just pain, what I felt. It was more like an emotional ache... A weird, out of body discomfort. I don't know how to explain it... I just felt like something was wrong, and that made my body sick, even though I wasn't actually ill... I'm fine right now."
"Maybe it was our soulmate connection, telling you that I wasn't doing okay."
"I did feel a few pangs on the same area of your cracked ribs, so..." He shrugged. "Who knows? Perhaps you're right."
Taehyung chuckled.
"Do you know what the crazy part is?"
"Hm?"
"That this has happened before."
Jimin tilted his head like a confused puppy.
"What?"
"What you just talked about; the out of body discomfort thing... It has happened quite a few times, at least to me."
" ... Care to explain?"
Taehyung slowly scooted over and patted the empty space beside him.
"Come here and I'll tell you everything."
"We really shouldn't..."
"Please?" His big, shining eyes played their trick on the dancer. Without a choice, he sighed and laid down on the bed, accepting the cuddle and melting into it. "Knew you'd say yes."
"Stop being cocky and start talking."
"Stop being grumpy and I'll talk."
"Tae."
"Alright, alright..." He grinned. "The first time that happened... It was a long time ago. Around 2015..."
---
In that hellish year, they had worked themselves to dust. Zero was the number of breaks to rest or think about their well-being and their lives. Their schedule was full, their routine was hectic, and despite enjoying being closer to Army and getting to perform in a plethora of new places, they weren't having a good time, at all.
Back then, avoiding exhaustion was simply impossible. And they all collapsed, at one point or another.
But things were specially bad for a certain member, who had ingrained into his head the wrongful notions that he wasn't quite as good as the others, that he lacked the talent required to be part of the group, and that the only way to change that was by overexerting his own body and becoming a prisioner of his own mind.
This increasingly bad self-doubt, mixed with stress, fear, and the growing number of fans that they were gaining, pulled the trigger of an eating disorder Jimin didn't even know he had.
And the bullet, contrary to everything else around him, travelled in slow motion, taking months to fully hit him.
It finally did while they were in Osaka.
After four days of performing non-stop, playing too many silly games, recording a thousand videos, and interacting with fans, with no space to rest - and no motivation to eat, at all-, he blacked out. Fainted, while they were playing Tension Escalator at a fan meeting.
Nothing particularly dramatic had caused the episode. He had to pretend to be angry, held in his breath for too long to look pissed off, and his body simply gave up on him. The lack of oxygen mixed with his lack of stamina made him pass out.
He woke up fairly quickly, but the incident was unusual enough for the members to realize that something wasn't okay with him.
But Taehyung, well, he'd already known that for a while. He had seen that whole tragedy coming from a mile.
Before they even travelled to Japan there was something nagging at him, at the back of his mind. He been feeling off for the last four to three weeks, and it wasn't just accumulated tiredness and stress - he still felt as energetic and enthusiastic about work as always-. It was something else. There was something bothering his soul. A lingering anxiety for problems he didn't have. An ache on his chest for emotions he wasn't feeling.
When he saw Jimin knocked out on the floor, he put two and two together and realized that these oddities were connected.
He didn't know why he'd been so concerned and fidgety as he did that last month, just like he didn't know why Jimin had fainted playing a silly game, when he was -or used to be- the most athletic member of the group. Neither of these things made sense alone, but together... They fit. It was premonition; it had to be.
(Back then, the concept of them actually being soulmates hadn't even crossed their minds yet. The term used to be nothing more than a joke, a funny gag, a word they used to bother each other. Still, looking back, that was the only explanation that made sense. Their connection was the reason Taehyung felt the way he did. Because every emotion Jimin harboured, he felt. Any discomfort the boy experienced, he did too.
Only when he fainted, Taehyung started to understand that truth; they were connected. The red string of fate had them tied together, before they even knew what such bond meant.)
And it was because of it that he knew that Jimin wasn't doing well. The more he paid attention to his behavior, the more sure he was of it.
His dieting had gone from concerning to straight up unhealthy. His sleeping habits from questionable to pitiful. His self criticism from understandable to completely ridiculous. He didn't smile as much anymore, and when he did, it didn't reach his eyes. He was quieter, more reserved. Was found tearing up after concerts, and staring into mirrors with enough intensity as to crack them. It was heartbreaking.
The nagging feeling Taehyung felt had progressively become unbearable. Sirens rang inside his skull, and he could see a hundred red flags waving everywhere. He wanted to help his friend, but didn't know how to.
Truth was, no one really did. Every time they tried, Jimin would push them off, saying he was okay; they were being too dramatic. But everyone could see the changes, they were undeniably obvious. The once most strong and energetic member of the group now looked so frail people had began to question if he was sick. (He was, but he'd never admit that out loud.)
In only a couple of months, the situation shifted from bad to extremely dangerous. With each passing day, Taehyung felt more and more distressed.
The online hate Jimin had been getting had grown out of proportion, and even though he pretend to be fine in front of everyone, he could see straight through the facade.
On one particularly bad night - when the younger had woken up from his slumber to go to the bathroom-, he'd found him at the verge of passing out, knelt down beside the toilet, breathless and nauseated. If he was vomiting because of his pent up anxiety or because of his desperation to get thinner, Taehyung couldn't tell, and didn't really want to know. Either reason terrified him.
"I c-can explain-"
"Don't." He helped him into a seating position, and eyed him with concern. "Jimin-ah..."
"I'm sorry-"
"How long has this been going on?" He crouched down in front of him, so they could be at eye level.
Not that the gesture worked, because the dancer shrank even more against the side of the bathtub and looked down, ashamed of himself.
"T-two weeks?"
"Aish..." He frowned. "Minnie..."
"I'm s-sorry." The other repeated with a loud sniffle.
"Don't apologize to me..." Taehyung grabbed his shaking hands. "You're only harming yourself. And you have to stop... Because this is... Not good. At all."
"But I don't know how to..." Jimin replied, as the tears fell freely down his face. "Look, I'm sorry... Really, I... I d-didn't want to wake you up..."
"You didn't wake me up; I just wanted to pee."
"Oh... I'm..."
"Don't say you're sorry again. Please. Now come on." He pulled at his fingers. "Let's get you a glass of water, and back to bed."
"But you want to..."
"I'm getting you out of here first; everything else can wait. Let's go." Taehyung helped him get up, and grimaced after realizing how much of a lightweight the boy had become.
Just like he had promised, he took him to the kitchen, made him sit down for a minute, and gave him a full glass of water.
"Drink this, and I'll be right back." One trip to the toilet later, he returned to see that the liquid was gone. Great. Now came the tough part. With a nervous sigh, he walked to the countertop and reached for the fruit bowl. He grabbed the softest, most easily digestible snack there was; a banana. Then, he sat down next to Jimin and placed the fruit right in front of him. "Eat."
"Tae, I..."
Taehyung didn't speak, only pushed the banana closer to him. Jimin looked at it like it was a loaded gun, ready to shoot. Like he was genuinely afraid of it.
"There's no easy way out of this and you know it."
The drained singer gulped.
"How many calories?"
"Don't know, don't care." And as if to prove a point, he walked to the freezer and pulled out an ice cream tub they weren't supposed to have even bought, at all. After grabbing a spoon, he returned to his best friend's side. "If ruining your diet is what you're worried about, let's do it together. That way you won't feel guilty."
"Tae..."
But it was too late. The boy had already scooped the chocolate up and taken it to his mouth.
"See? Ruined. And I haven't died, turned into a green gooey monster, or gained three hundred pounds. And neither will you. Now eat the banana."
"I... I can't."
"Then you're eating the ice cream with me." He buried the spoon in the desert and scooped another ball. "Pick your battle."
Jimin knew he didn't have another choice. If he stood up and walked away from the discussion, Taehyung would tell the others about what he had seen in the bathroom. If stayed and denied the food, he'd shove it down his throat anyway.
So he now he had to listen, and do as he was told.
Obviously, he chose the banana. Even thinking about how many calories that single spoon of ice cream had was enough for him to feel nauseous again.
He peeled the fruit off in a hurry, thinking to himself that it was just another task he had to be done with. The quicker he did it, the better.
Even so, he couldn't stop the tears of frustration and regret from falling once he took that first bite.
He shouldn't be eating that. It was against his diet. He was supposed to only eat one meal a day, and that was it. He was fucking things up, and disappointing his team, himself, and Army. He was weak, fat, and shouldn't be allowed to-
A hand grabbed his unoccupied one, and caressed it. His chin dropped instantly, as he struggled to keep his sobs in. He was going to wake up the entire house if he lost control again, and all because of a fucking banana.
"Keep eating. Everything's fine." Taehyung insisted, and slowly, he took another bite.
His stomach was getting more and more upset with every single chew, and if his anxiety hadn't made him stop thus far, the cramps did.
"Do you want more water?"
He couldn't answer. Just nodded, and left the half eaten fruit over the table, as Taehyung refilled his glass.
"I c-can't keep going."
"Drink this slowly, wait until you feel a little bit better, and try again. Your body is acting up because you haven't eaten as much as you should in a long, long time."
The comment held no insult in it, but Jimin felt like it did anyway.
"... I need to get thinner."
"No, you need to get healthier." His best friend's hand grabbed his again. "You never were fat to begin with. You had a perfectly good weight, and body."
"Don't lie to me."
"I never lie to you." He said with upmost seriousness. "That's why we argue so much."
Jimin's mouth twitched, and for a second, he smiled.
"I'm going to let them down..."
"Who?"
"The fans. I'm going to-"
"That's stupid. You won't."
"But I've r-read the comments, and..."
"Your real fans - our real fans- will never care about such things. They love you, and they'd never write anything hurtful towards you. These jerks that do, they don't matter... And they aren't Army." Taehyung squeezed his palm. "Besides, it doesn't matter what other people think. You have to care for yourself first. That's what's important. Everything else fades away."
Jimin's nod was barely noticeable, but the other boy somehow managed to see it. Still, he couldn't relax, because his best friend refused to look him in the eyes - too busy mentally fighting the half devoured fruit ahead of him to even try-.
"Why am I s-so scared of a freaking banana?"
They both chuckled, but the tension in the air didn't melt away.
"You aren't scared of the banana. You're scared of gaining weight. Of losing control. Of not being perfect. But Jiminie..." Taehyung leaned closer. "You don't have to fear any of these things. Because you are enough."
"I'm not..."
"You are. To me, and everyone else who loves you, you are more than enough. Now come on... You can do this. Show that fruit who's in control."
Jimin took a deep breath in, shook his head again, and tried - for Taehyung's sake, rather than his own- to finish what he had started. He closed his eyes, and chewed, again. Tried not to think too hard about what was happening.
When he was done, he received a few pats on the back.
"You did good." Then, was pulled into a hug. "I'm proud of you."
After that night, Taehyung made sure to share all of his meals with him. Even if the boy only ate a small bowl of rice, or a few bites of kimchi, he saw every single one of his attempts at eating as a success. Because even crumbs were better than nothing, and a victory still was a victory, no matter how small.
Eventually though, the professionals had to step in; there was only so much he could do alone. A therapist, a nutritionist and a psychiatrist were summoned to help - not only Jimin, but the rest of the group as well-.
It shouldn't have been a surprise; they were all going through the wringer. But the two of them had seriously undermined how bad their collective mental health had gotten.
The truth came to light thanks to Jin, out of all people.
He had approached Bang PD because he was having issues with one of their managers, and was seriously considering quitting his job for good. That's how worn out, depressed and irritated he was.
Concerned about the older boy's unusual seriousness and jadedness, Bang allowed him to vent, talked things through with him, and convinced him to stay.
Thanks to that conversation, he found out about the manager's constant mockery towards his boys, his anger outbursts, and the fact that he kept calling them "pigs" for eating more than two meals a day - and clearly, not in a jokingly manner-.
Bang didn't take the offenses lightly and the man was fired instantly. Their dangerously restrictive diet - proposed and implemented by said employee- was also completely discarded, and forever forbidden.
Of course, not only Jin was relieved by these changes; Jimin too. He only shared the truth after the jerk was gone, but he'd been heavily criticized by him as well. And his mistreatment was worse than anyone had expected. It was one of the main reasons behind the destruction of his self-steem.
"Thank you... For doing what I couldn't." He said to his hyung, one late night, as they sat down on the floor of their dance studio to catch their breaths.
"No need to thank me, Jimin-ah. Someone had to say something." The older one replied, and handed him a water bottle. "And honestly, I couldn't stand him anymore... What a prick."
"Hyung..." He chuckled.
"What? It's true!... His absence is healing!"
And Jin was absolutely right. It was.
Not having that horrible energy surrounding Jimin everywhere he went he was crucial for his recovery.
It took him many months to get better, and he slipped into old habits quite a few times, but every time he did fall, Taehyung was always there to pull him up from the ground, and help him get back on track.
Looking back from years ahead, he knew for certain that if his soulmate hadn't done what he did that fateful night, and forced that banana down his throat -metaphorically, of course-, he would have gotten sick to the point of no return.
If to this day he was alive and healthy, a big part of it was thanks to Taehyung, and the members.
Of course the hardest part of the road he had to trail by himself, but without his best friend's support... He wouldn't have even stepped on it. That was factual.
---
"I'm... Speechless." Current day Jimin blinked, in awe.
He'd been doing a lot better lately. He didn't fear food anymore, actually liked his body, had learned to limit the amount of time he spent online, looking for reasons to hate himself, and didn't let anyone speak over himself, of mistreat him anymore.
"Soulmate connection baby. I knew something wasn't right with you before you even told me anything."
"... Does it happen often? You knowing that I'm..." He trailed off.
"Yeah. A lot. Like that time you pulled a muscle on your leg and didn't tell no one until I found out; that time when you got so drunk you forgot your password and got locked out of your home and I had to go and pick you up; that day when you had a sexuality crisis and sat down on the roof of a building to cry..."
"You're kidding me."
"Nope. Almost every single time there was something wrong with you, I felt it deep in my bones... It's really unsettling."
"And why didn't you tell me about this before?"
"Well, I though you'd think I was insane... I myself thought I was exaggerating, you know?... I thought that my concern was dumb and misplaced, for a while... Turns out it wasn't." Taehyung felt Jimin's eyes land on his face and he looked down from the ceiling. "I only realized that I wasn't crazy for sure after that fight you had with Jungkook in Manila. Do you remember it? I found you crying in your room."
"Wait... I thought you had talked with him beforehand, and that's why you went to check on me. But, did you..."
"Look for you just because I felt something was wrong? Yeah, basically."
"So Kookie never spoke to you?"
"No. I went to see you on my own. I didn't even know you had a fight, but that feeling of worry and restlessness had returned... So I thought I should make sure you were alright, and lo and behold, you weren't."
"Wow..." Jimin's mouth opened and closed a couple of times, but he didn't know what else to say. "That's..."
"Crazy, I know."
They stayed quiet for a few minutes, just appreciating the beeping if the machines around the bed.
"I think... It also happened before. To me, I mean." Jimin suddenly confessed. "I hadn't realized it back then but now... It's obvious." His grip on Taehyung became tighter. "Do you remember in the early months of the pandemic, when I moved in with you so we could quarantine together for a few days?"
"Back when I started writing Blue and Grey?"
"Yeah... The night before I texted you and asked if you wanted company, I felt something was wrong with you too. And it wasn't just anxiety... It was deeper than that. I knew you weren't okay but I hadn't even talked to you yet... It was unexplainable. I felt so profoundly worried, for no reason at all."
"Well... I'm glad you decided to listen to yourself and text me in the morning, because that night..." He drew in a sharp breath. "It was rough, I'm not going to lie... It was very bad. Every single horrible thought, memory and doubt I have kept replaying on my head, and that infinite loop was driving me insane. I remember I kept asking for someone, anyone, to make my mind stop working, and my bad thoughts vanish, because I couldn't sleep, and I couldn't relax... It sucked. But then you messaged me, at dawn... Out of nowhere... And you visited me."
"The best decision I ever took." Jimin kissed his chest and made Taehyung smile. "Still... You should have called me. I'm afraid to think about what night have happened if I hadn't texted you."
"... Me too." He admitted, and looked up again.
---
The beginning of the pandemic had been tough for everyone, that was obvious, but Taehyung specifically had a really rough, horrible, awful time with it.
By the time the whole thing started, one year had passed since he'd been properly diagnosed with depression. Twelve months since he'd gotten himself a therapist, knew that what he was going through wasn't just a "phase", and was regularly taking medication.
He wasn't feeling fantastic yet, but things had gotten better for him. Life looked brighter. He had more energy, and felt less emotionally stunted than before.
The last couple of years had been utter crap, he had to admit, but 2019 wasn't as bad as it could have been - all thanks to his treatment-. He actually had a lot of fun touring, recording, winning award after award, and laughing until he cried with the boys. The spark of joy that had been absent from his eyes since mid 2016 was back, even if slightly dimmed. And he wasn't doing amazing, but he had gladly settle for great.
All was fine, all was good.
Then, the 20's happened. Covid crashed into everybody's lives unannounced, ruined his prospects of entering the next decade with a smile on his face, and put all of his plans on hold.
Suddenly, he'd lost he love and the attention of the crowd. He could not longer meet his friends. Hugging became a thing of the past. He felt isolated, and alone. The happiness he'd fought so hard to regain was gone.
It was ironic. At first, he thought that the break from his usually hectic routine was nice. He enjoyed the peace of quiet that came with it. But his uncertainty towards the future, his fear of dying, of losing family, his growing loneliness, and unfathomable boredom soon had grabbed him by the neck. He was choking on his own misery. And he wished he could turn back time, and live his old life again.
He couldn't sleep, thinking about what was to come. About his own worth, his mortality, the relationships he'd damaged and lost, and the years of affection he was going to miss because of that stupid pandemic.
Suddenly, the meds weren't working anymore. And he felt like he couldn't reach out to anyone, because he still hadn't told the members about his diagnosis. He thought he had everything under control, so he never said anything to them.
Fuck. How had he gone from relieved, content and relaxed to drained, melancholic and pessimistic, in less than two months? This wasn't fair.
He tried writing about his emotions. Tried to sing, and draw, and take photos, and do whatever it is he could to keep his mind busy and sane. But soon, he lost his voice. The pen and paper stopped kissing. The colours faded on every art piece. Nothing had meaning, not even life itself. He felt like he was wasting his by being stuck to his bed all day and night, waiting for the nightmare that was reality to be over, or for at least the blissful unawareness of sleep to sedate him.
But his worries wouldn't fade, either way. Awake, he was plagued by a hundred blue question marks, and doubts he'd never be able to answer. Why did all of this have to happen? Why were so many people dying? How did the world stop spinning all of the sudden?
Asleep, he was assaulted mercilessly by his regret. The memories of the good times he had made his present seem ever duller. He could remember his smiles, and laughs, and joy... But not feel it. Like a cloud of smoke pushed away by the wind, it was gone before he could grasp it.
Serenity was long forgotten since he started lockdown. Happiness was a bird, that had flown away with the begining of his personal winter. The gardens of his soul had died, buried by the snow, and his heart was frozen. The coldness inside made him feel numb.
One night, he felt like he'd had enough.
A thick fog had settled in the skies outside.
Usually, because of his insomnia, he'd sit down next to the window and observe the flickering lights of the city until he passed out from exhaustion, or the sun came up to greet him. But in that moment, even that small comfort had been taken away from him.
The world was grey, and he couldn't see anything ahead.
He took that as a sign from his Angel. He'd been praying for help. He'd been asking, begging, for someone to save him, to explain him the meaning of life. What was he doing there, all alone, without an objective or direction? Where should he run to next? What should he do? The world was in shambles; was there even a reason he was still alive?
"And there it is..." He mumbled, facing his reflection on the window. "The grey rhino. The truth that is evident, and that I've avoiding all along... There's no meaning to this, is there?"
His Angel, the spirit he talked to constantly, didn't say anything back. But it wasn't necessary; he knew the answer.
Just like he couldn't see the outline of the city, he couldn't see the outline of his future. There was no salvation, as there was no perdition. Tomorrow was only a theory. It was non-existent. He couldn't make plans, because as soon at the sun rose, he'd be met with a new, blank slate, and everything he'd dreamed of, written about, planned... Would be gone. He'd have to start again, and again, and again.
The meaning of life was that there was no meaning. He just had to live it.
But holy fuck, he was tired of doing that.
When he was younger, the unknown might have been exciting but right now, the just wanted enough stability to move forward. And he didn't have it. So he wanted to give up. He wanted to let the fog consume him, and become part of the meaningless of it all. Sleep forever, and not worry about what was going to happen once he woke up.
With tears rolling down his face, and a chilling calmness keeping his body still, he sighed.
He didn't want to die, but he was tired of uncertainty. Of being lonely. Of missing his old life. Of worrying. Of thinking too fucking much. And he couldn't see another way to make everything stop. He either crossed the fog and kept dealing with his fear and uneasiness, or the dissolved into it, like some pills under his tongue.
He dragged himself to bed and laid down, thinking about the consequences of both choices. He tried to imagine who would find his body first, and how would that person react to the discovery. He didn't want it to be any of the members. Thinking about that made him sob, loudly, and turn into a ball. Maybe it would be one of their managers. He had been avoiding their messages for a while now; someone was bound to come and check in. He knew it wouldn't be anyone from his family though, they were too far away for that to happen.
His worst fear was Jimin stumbling across the scene, if he was honest. He knew the password of his front door, and had free access to his apartment. Even though quarantine had kept them apart for a long while, in the olden times he'd drop by almost every week, to dinner with him. Jungkook would even tag along, sometimes.
Talking about the couple, he was happy that these two had finally gotten their shit together and confessed their undying love for each other. Firstly because they deserved to be happy and secondly, because they'd be able to go through grief together. That would make things easier for the both of them, right?
Taehyung knew that they would probably cry the most, out of everyone in the group. And he didn't want that, but knew it was unavoidable. They'd miss him... And would probably hate him for leaving. But he had to go.
He shivered, thinking about his funeral. He knew it would become a public ordeal, although he wish it wouldn't. He really wanted his family and friends to be left alone, but sadly, that would not be the case. A bunch of cameras would be shoved in their faces as his casket was moved from one place to the other, and that his goodbye letter would be exposed everywhere in the world. Should he even write one? Would that make them feel better or worse? What was more merciful; a sorrowful explanation or the lack of reasons?
He shifted on the bed, not knowing what to do. He didn't notice how many hours had passed since the beginning of his dilemma, and his marathon of horrible imaginary scenarios. The sun was coming out, but the fog outside hadn't fully dissipated yet. He switched positions, and sat on the edge of the mattress. Leaned down. Opened the drawer in his nightstand. Grabbed an orange prescription bottle he kept hidden at the bottom.
His pills. Things that were supposed to help him, and that he was now considering using to end his suffering,once and for all. With his thumb, he popped the lid open. Stared at the medication in fear.
Just as he was about to swallow a bunch of them dry, his phone screen lit up. Jimin's name flashed across his notification tab. Not knowing if he should feel frustrated or relieved, he breathed in, out, and set the bottle down over the table. He grabbed his phone, opened the chat, and read:
Jiminie:
"Hey, are you okay?
I had a really bad nightmare about u
And now im worried
Maybe im just paranoid lol
Tae?
Taehyung i know youre awake
Answer meee
I'm not giving you until you do"
~THV
"I'm awake
Haven't really slept tonight tbh"
He didn't know why he wrote that last bit of information, but he pressed send anyway.
Jimin called him seconds after getting the text.
"Hey..."
"Hi."
"Are you okay? What happened?... Why didn't you sleep?"
"I..." He tried to speak, but ended up trailing off. "Sorry. It's nothing. I'm fine. You don't need to worry."
"You know I can smell bullshit better than anyone. And I've told too many lies to know when someone is lying to me."
"... I know."
Silence. Taehyung sighed, ran his hand across his face and opened his mouth. He still couldn't think of what to say.
"Hm..." Jimin seemed to read his mind. "You can totally say no, but... Do you want me to come over? You know I've been quarantined with Kookie for a while, and we haven't really left this apartment, so we're both Covid clean... But if you want I can totally find a way to get tested before I-"
"Just come here. I don't care about Covid." He finally broke. "I kinda need a hug right now."
And that settled it. After saying goodbye to his boyfriend, Jimin crossed the city in a hurry, with a backpack full of clothes, and his mind set in staying locked up with his best friend for a full week.
When he arrived, he was shocked to see his state. Hair matted, face unshaven, eyes puffy, and shoulders slouched. His worry got the best of him, and he couldn't even say hi, deciding to pull him from his hoodie onto his arms.
"Come here." He whispered before embracing him tightly, under the doorway that led to his apartment.
They stayed there, intertwined, for a while. Once he got inside Taehyung's home, he almost couldn't avoid frowning. It was messy. Dirty plates, empty Ramyeon cups, cans, and discarded clothes layered the furniture and the ground. The window curtains were shut, and the place was way too dark. The bedroom wasn't any better.
The indentation on the mattress caught his attention, however. It was a clear sign that his owner hadn't stood up from it in days.
And the open orange bottle on the nightstand... It was upsetting.
As if everything else wasn't worrying enough.
"I'm sorry for the mess..." Taehyung nervously scratched the back of his neck. He tried to come up with an excuse for his carelessness, but the words died inside of his mouth when he saw the concern on his soulmate's face. He knew he wouldn't buy any of his faulty explanations. "I was too tired to clean anything."
Jimin looked around like he was lost. He had a suspicion that Taehyung wasn't doing well but this... This was worse than anything he might have imagined.
"It's o-okay." It wasn't, but he didn't want to make him feel more miserable than he already was. "I'll help you clean this up, get you into a bath, and we'll order something to eat. Okay?"
The worn out singer nodded, and looked down at his feet. He then waddled forward slowly, and silently asked for another hug. Jimin didn't hesitate in giving him one.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't need to be. I've been where you are before... You'll get through this, alright?" A few pats on the back accentuated his point. "You've always been there for me. Now let me be there for you."
"Can you s-stay? Please?"
"I'm not leaving for at least a week. And if you let me, I'll even stay the month."
"... I don't want to steal you from Kookie, though." He tried to joke, but it sounded too sad as to actually be funny.
"He'll understand. And probably will want to move in with us." Jimin smiled, and squeezed him tighter. "Now come on... Let's clean this mess. Your cleaning fairy is here to help."
"You're not a fairy, Jimin-ah." He sniffled, before pulling away. "You're my Angel."
"Aish. You're being too corny... " The dancer ran his hand through his sweaty locks, pushing them away from his face. "But I'll take it."
"I mean it." Taehyung insisted. "Thank you. For coming here."
"Every time you need me, I will."
---
Two years had passed since they had that conversation, and it still was true. They'd always be there for each other. In this life, and hopefully the next.
"I'm lucky to have you as my soulmate, you know that?" Jimin smiled as they both started to get more and more sleepy, still cuddling on that uncomfortable hospital bed.
"I'm lucky too." Taehyung raised his injured hand up, and extended his pinky towards his best friend - who didn't hesitate in wrapping his own little finger around it. "Jimin-ah..."
"Hm?"
"I love you."
They chuckled.
"I love you too."
And two minutes later, they were both fast asleep, finding peace in the knowledge that, as long as they had each other, everything would turn out okay.