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The apparition had been subtle when she first crawled into Jimin's mirror. He'd looked too long, that was all. Her form was a trick of his eyes gone unfocused, of his peering skin and bones and blood interpreted just a little bit awry when he put emphasis on the wrong parts. Yet the girl became content with life on the bathroom wall. After her first appearance, she staked a claim. From midnight to six in the morning like clockwork, she flickered under Jimin's face. They'd grown together: gotten taller and more muscular, worn black clothes and chains. Every time Jimin caught her staring, she flinched back.
Yoonji stepped into 3D like she wasn't a mirror girl. Not that Jimin could puzzle Yoongi's face to fit her image anyways. Yoonji felt like a real high school crush, and Jimin blushed at the thought of a world where they held hands on the way to class.
But during the car ride home, Jimin buzzed unpleasantly at the easy way Yoongi had become Yoonji. "Hyungnim," Jimin whispered.
"I'm listening."
"How come..." Jimin glanced at the driver. "Why were you so good at pretending to be a girl?"
Yoongi thought for a moment, then: "I didn't have to act that much. Yoonji was just me with different clothes and a wig."
Jimin giggled. "But I bet it felt different! You actually looked like one. That must make it way weirder."
Silence. Jimin's head twinged as the car bumped along the rough asphalt.
Hours later, just before the part of night that makes reflections fickle, Jimin ducked into Yoongi's room. "I'm sorry, hyungnim." He said.
"I know."
Jimin tossed in bed, parsing the comeback schedule on his phone. His heart beated a little faster seeing the release date for Wings only weeks away. Despite his overwhelming pride, Jimin's legs shook with an irremediable restlessness. On the other side of the room, Hoseok breathed steadily, asleep. The otherwise dead silence told Jimin that the others had followed suit. Such type of night was a dangerous kind: frozen in the way that made Jimin bolder than idols may be.
Yoongi's wig from the Run BTS shoot probably remained sat on the couch. And the clock was closing in on 4:00. And Jimin needed to know-- just once-- while still atop the endless, hectic flow of his lifestyle. In the dark, Jimin didn't feel like a liar with the bob peeking out of his hoodie and baseball cap. As he locked the front door, Jimin's reflection in the mirror beside it bordered on pretty. When he dropped into a tiny lamb skewer restaurant, the ahjumma preparing his meal tutted over him being out so late. She saw a girl, Jimin realised. His fragile face had come apart with ease, and the ahjumma believed in the one he'd spent his life submerging underneath. He swallowed back his vomit.
The next morning, Jimin awoke to a text from Yoongi: "Thanks for the takeout, Jimin-ah. No hard feelings from yesterday. Hyung will be in the studio for a while." Jimin recognised the silent offer and desperately dreamed of taking it up. But before he could go, Jimin needed his source of bravery.
Screeching noises from Namjoon and Jungkook's bedroom guided Jimin to Taehyung like a red string. As Jimin approached, Jungkook ran off to the kitchen, loudly begging Seokjin to save some bibimbap for him like a police dog trained to sniff out gochujang. Before Taehyung could leave, too, Jimin quickly shut the door and pulled him into a hug, resting his head on Taehyung's shoulder.
"Jimin," Taehyung started, rolling them both onto Jungkook's bed, "Baby, what's wrong?" Jimin sniffled into Taehyung's neck. "You've been weird since yesterday. And I saw you sneak out earlier. What happened?"
"Stupid." Jimin mumbled.
"What's that?"
"I think I said something stupid to Yoongi-hyung, and then I did something stupid, and it's all just-" Jimin shuddered, taking a deep breath. "Stupid."
Taehyung pressed their foreheads together. "Poor birdie." They lay still for a while, then: "What did you do with the wig, though?"
"Taehyung! Oh my god." Jimin half-giggled, half-sniffled.
"I bet you looked pretty." Jimin's eyes widened. Cautiously, he pressed, "Do you mean it?"
"Of course." Taehyung smiled, lacing their fingers together, "Pinky promise."
"What if it was real? If I'd looked like that when we first met, or if..." Jimin trailed off, "I became that way?"
"Then you'd be our pretty Jimin." Taehyung resolved, then asked "Do you want to tell me more?"
"Not yet."
"Could you say more to hyung?"
Jimin stood up slowly, his clammy right hand tightening its grip on Taehyung. "Come with me to his studio."