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Min Yoongi has mastered his SNS game - he has been in the industry long enough.
Tantalising but not controversial. Enough to keep himself in his fans’ minds without jamming down their throats. Tidbits of his life that he’s willing to share - early drafts of lyrics, songs he’s listening to, snaps of the cities he visited on tour. He’s always genuine, but his account, like his public image, is a persona.
He has been purposefully quiet over the last week. There are already paparazzi camping outside his apartment complex, and it’s going to get worse. He’ll savour the calm before the storm.
He’s about to turn on “do not disturb” on his phone when he receives a notification - a text from Jinyoung, a fellow producer at PJS. He only messages about work; Yoongi can do with the distraction.
“Hey hyung, I know you’re always on the lookout for new talent. This guy’s TikTok went viral, for good reason. He’s got a voice, and it’s your type.”
Yoongi clicks on the link - his eyes widen when the clip starts playing.
It’s Park Jimin.
After Yoongi regains his composure, he closes his eyes and focuses on the performance. Jinyoung is right, Jimin’s voice is indeed his type.
He hasn’t heard Jimin's singing for years now. In some ways, it’s the same as what he remembers, his tone warm and alluring, but it’s also different. His voice has matured, and there is a vulnerability that wasn’t there when they were together.
It was a long time ago, but memories of Jimin are never far from Yoongi’s mind. His laughs that rang like bells, his sass when he didn’t get his way, the way his kisses made Yoongi yearn for more …
Yoongi replays the video, this time looking at Jimin. He has soft brown hair now; it was bright pink when they met. Not surprisingly, he’s all grown up, chubby cheeks replaced by a sharp jawline. There is immense sadness in his eyes, and it breaks Yoongi’s heart a little.
Why?
Yoongi finds the answer when he reads the caption of the video.
“You used to say I’m your star”
That’s what Yoongi used to call Jimin.
Yoongi is momentarily puzzled. Jimin left Seoul before D-town’s debut. That was more than seven years ago. He assumed Jimin would have re-established his life in Busan and moved on.
Their fights at the end were spectacular, but the tender moments were what Yoongi recalled in the passing years. Cuddles under the quilt in Jimin’s bunk, bone tired after practising for whatever the company threw at them. Jimin’s bright smile when Yoongi showered him with compliments after a private preview of his latest dance routine. Stolen kisses and sneaky hand jobs at the company studio late at night when Yoongi worked on his tracks.
Jimin was a huge part of Yoongi’s life as a trainee, his affection and steadfast support carried him through injuries, setbacks and perpetual exhaustion. Whenever his anxiety flared up, Jimin was his lighthouse in a sea of darkness. He may have been more excited than Yoongi when the company announced the creation of a hip-hop trio with him, Namjoon and Hoseok.
There was another announcement that changed their lives - the one where Jimin was released from his trainee contract. Management said the music trends at the time made it too challenging to debut someone like Jimin. Yoongi disagreed with the decision then, and he still does now. They were shortsighted - Jimin was an undeniable talent who would have become a top idol if they were patient; the “trends” they were so concerned about changed mere months after Jimin was let go.
As a trainee himself, there was nothing Yoongi could do to change their mind. Outside of listening to Jimin’s gripes and hugging him tight when he sobs, letting Jimin’s tears soak through his t-shirt, Yoongi felt utterly helpless.
He witnessed Jimin’s descent from a hopeful teen to a self-loathing young man. After Jimin moved out of the dormitory, he rented a place with another ex-trainee in a seedy part of Seoul and started hanging out in bars, chugging beers until he could barely stand. Yoongi sneaked out a few times to pick him up and took him back to his apartment, held his hair back as he threw up in the bathroom.
Yoongi would have done anything to make Jimin believe in himself, but the Jimin he knew and loved was disappearing, replaced by someone who felt the whole world had turned its back on him. Yoongi was no longer enough.
A week after another 3am rescue, Yoongi received a text from Jimin.
“I’m back in Busan.”
A message with no greeting and no warmth, but Yoongi was relieved nonetheless. Jimin was close to his family; they would look after him and help him heal. Yoongi wished Jimin well and asked him to text when he wanted to talk.
Jimin did not reply.
Yoongi tried to contact him when he could, but with a punishing schedule of rehearsals, interviews and photoshoots leading up to debut, Yoongi barely had a moment to himself. By the time the promotional activities died down, it felt strange to message Jimin again, like he was an afterthought.
That four-word text was the last he heard from Jimin.
Well, until now. Jimin didn’t tag Yoongi in his video, but with the caption and the lyrics, he had to be singing about them. It was Jimin’s message in a bottle, 2022 style. Miraculously, the bottle drifted to Yoongi's shore.
Watching the clip again, Yoongi can’t get over the pain in his eyes and his voice. Jimin must have known about his wedding with Eunjae this weekend; it has been on Naver's home page for days.
Outside of a sad love song, what’s Jimin up to now?
There are several dance videos on his TikTok (he looks graceful as ever), clips of the beach - looks like he’s still living in Busan. The last five videos were all Jimin singing about heartbreak. Yoongi's suddenly hit by a wave of guilt. Yes, Jimin didn’t reply back then, but he was in a vulnerable state. He could have put in more effort to reach out and make sure Jimin was OK.
He closes TikTok and opens his contact list. “Jiminie” is still there, a star emoji next to his name. His thumb hovers over the “message” button.
999,9k
Jimin has been staring at the like counter for over 15 minutes. He shouldn’t care so much, but he can’t help it.
Finally, it switches over.
One million likes.
He doesn’t know if he wants to laugh or cry. After all this time, his singing is finally being recognised.
All it took was a phone, a sad song, and years of heartache.
Jimin has Jungkook to thank. It was Jungkook who suggested he set up a TikTok account as a creative outlet. Jimin was reluctant at the beginning, he knew from experience that he doesn’t handle rejection well. Jungkook was insistent. “Hyung, you’re not doing it for strangers on the internet, you’re doing it for yourself. Giving your art its own life.”
And Jungkook was right. Although he abandoned music and dancing for a long time after he returned to Busan, they are part of who he is. There is joy in moving freely to a track, in pouring his heart out through song. The time for him to be a professional artist has long gone, but he had always loved performing, and these videos gave him a chance to do so on his own terms.
He doesn’t have a big following, and strangely, Jimin likes it that way. The growth of the account is organic, people liking and sharing because they enjoy his performances - there’s no management telling him what to do, no stylist dictating his appearance, just him doing what he wants.
And in the last month, what he wanted was to wallow in sadness. When he read the surprise announcement of Yoongi’s engagement in the news, all the pain from the time he was fired by PJS resurfaced. Here’s Min Yoongi, not only a renowned artist and producer, but also finding love, someone to spend the rest of his life with. In the photo accompanying the news, Yoongi was radiating happiness. A happiness that he once shared with Jimin.
A happiness that has eluded Jimin since.
His family rallied behind him when he returned from Seoul with a wounded ego and a broken heart. They cared for him with patience and kindness, gave him the time he needed to grieve his losses. He barely left his childhood bedroom in the first months, ashamed of his failure and how he handled himself after his contract was terminated. It was his parents' and brother's unconditional love that pulled him out of the abyss.
Fifteen-year-old Jimin was convinced he’d make it as an idol; there was no Plan B. As he ventured back into the outside world, he didn’t know what to do with himself. His brother's offer of casual work at his law firm was a lifesaver. With no university education or office work experience, he started out photocopying, fetching coffees and picking up dry cleaning, but through hard work and sheer will, he worked his way up and is now the practice manager of the litigation team.
Along with family and work, Jimin has a small, tight-knitted group of friends who keep him from being stuck in his own head. Taehyung, spontaneous and boisterous, loves fiercely and unreservedly. Seokjin, with his infectious laughter and "live-in-the-moment" attitude, brings clarity and lightness when there are dark clouds above. And Jungkook, observant and thoughtful, offers wisdom beyond his years. Jimin is truly grateful to have them in his life.
All things considered, Jimin is in a good place. But there's a hole in his heart that never mended.
Sometimes he’d dream about the Park Jimin who “made it”, where his songs top MelOn and Circle charts, where he performs at sold out stadiums, surrounded by fans chanting his name. Where he loves, and is loved by Min Yoongi.
Jimin has learned that no matter how wonderful a dream is, it’ll always end with the sound of his alarm. And Yoongi’s forthcoming nuptials is ringing loud and clear.
He mourned his lost love one last time, cocooning himself with memories of Yoongi - cooking ramyeon at 3am because Jimin woke up with hunger pangs, massaging him with his magical hands after a long day at dance practice, whispering the cheesiest love poems in Jimin’s ears, smiling shyly when Jimin told him how pretty he was.
Yoongi’s love was the gentlest and the strongest. Jimin was too young and too hurt to know what he let go when he left all those years ago.
In the clips he posted after he read the news, Jimin allowed himself to be vulnerable in front of the camera, because he wanted, no, needed to be honest. Singing “Good Stuff” was like freeing a long-caged bird. He knew that once the gate swung open, it would fly away and never return.
Jimin looks at the time on his phone - it’s past midnight, and he has a busy day ahead. He is closing the app when the phone vibrates with a message from an unknown number.
This is the best I’ve heard you sing, Jimin-ah.