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Smiles aren’t that hard to fake, Taehyung finds. It’s easy to scrunch your eyes up and pull your lips back from your teeth and convince people that it’s not a grimace, but a grin. He doesn’t know whether he should be proud of himself for being able to fool everyone around him and though he would deny it, a part of him wishes someone would see through the false grin.
It starts off with a heaviness in his chest and he sits surrounded by friends, suddenly feeling out of place and unwanted. It’s easy to isolate himself, excuses rolling off his tongue like silver. The aching emptiness isn’t helped by the solitude of his room, if anything it seems to spread through the space, seeping into every corner of the small room. There’s a burning in his throat and an overwhelming urge to scream. He doesn’t. Rather he sits with his head between his knees, ignoring the chimes of incoming messages. A part of him wishes that he could just fall apart, but the tears don’t come. Just an aching sense of guilt.
The guilt doesn’t really makes sense and Taehyung isn’t even sure why he feels guilty. He supposes it could be how he thinks that if he was dead at least he’d feel okay again. Or it could be simply guilt for pushing away his friends, unable to keep up with them like he used to. Either way, it eats at him, curling in his stomach and biting into the skin of his arms where his own fingers dig into the flesh as if it’s the only thing that will keep him from falling apart. It isn’t the full blown terror of a panic attack with his heart pounding so hard he thinks it’ll beat right out of his chest, but it’s the pressing anxiety of being lost in a crowd where nothing looks familiar or safe.
Isolation doesn’t help, Taehyung knows this, but as the texts and messages pile up he can’t help but turn away. Maybe he deserves this. Because god knows he doesn’t deserve his friends they’re far too good for someone like him. Someone who can’t even get out of bed in the morning because getting out of bed means that there are a million things waiting for him to do. Someone who can barely convince himself to eat because it takes too much energy to even think about making food, let alone actually go through with it.
Taehyung knows he shouldn’t be hurt by how long it takes his friends to realize that he’s been hiding his pain, particularly when he was so careful about maintaining his mask. But when they realize, they each take a turn trying to pull Taehyung away from the corner that he’s backed himself into.
Seokjin tries first, bringing with him a small offering of ramen. The ramen sits on Taehyung’s beside table cooling as Seokjin talks, running his fingers through Taehyung’s greasy unwashed hair. Taehyung can barely muster the energy to sit up, eyes half lidded as he listens to Seokjin’s soothing voice. Seokjin carefully presses a pair of chopsticks into Taehyung’s hand, urging him to eat. Managing a weak smile, Taehyung picks up the bowl on his bedside table, eating for the first time in what might have been days. He pretends he doesn’t see Seokjin’s shoulders slump with relief and his eyes watering. Seokjin murmurs a soft thank you and presses a kiss to the top of Taehyung’s head after he successfully finishes the ramen.
Next is Namjoon, all but forcing Taehyung into the bathroom. He runs a bath; not saying anything as Taehyung sinks into the warm water, still in his boxers mostly for his own sake of mind. Namjoon talks to him about philosophy as he washes Taehyung’s hair, gently scrubbing at his scalp and rinsing the suds away. Tears form in Taehyung’s eyes at the tenderness that he doesn’t deserve, guilt like barbed wire curling around his heart. Namjoon doesn’t mention the thin red lines on Taehyung’s thighs but muffled I’m sorry’s spill from Taehyung’s lips regardless and Namjoon quietly shushes him, telling him that it’s okay. Taehyung bites his lip, nodding along even though he can’t bring himself to believe a word. Namjoon gives Taehyung privacy to pull on clean pajamas before he joins Taehyung in his room, wet hair stuck to his forehead and water beads rolling down his neck. Namjoon takes a towel and carefully dries Taehyung’s hair, setting the damp towel aside when he’s done. There’s silence and before Namjoon leaves he pulls Taehyung into a hug, hoping to convey all that can’t be said with words.
Taehyung dreads the moment Yoongi walks in. There’s no coddling, but there’s also no yelling. At least not right away. Yoongi just drags him out of his room, forcing him to walk with him around Seoul as Yoongi talks about how much Taehyung’s made the other’s worry and how much they care about him. The barbed wire around Taehyung’s heart tightens its grip, digging in and Taehyung bites his lip to contain the floodgates of self hatred begging to be released. Yoongi is silent for a long time before he takes Taehyung’s hand, squeezing it. His voice is low and heavy with the sound of Daegu as he tells Taehyung that he isn’t alone and that he misses Taehyung’s smile. That’s when Taehyung lets loose. He doesn’t mean to, in fact he’d very much like to put his foot in his mouth but the damage is done. Yoongi is looking at Taehyung with his jaw clenched and a mix of pain and anger in his eyes. Taehyung looks down at his feet, listening to Yoongi’s ragged breathing and the hitch in it that tells Taehyung that Yoongi is about to unload on him. But Taehyung is ready for it. He deserves it. But instead of yelling Yoongi’s voice is broken when he throws his arms around Taehyung, holding him tightly and asking him why? Taehyung doesn’t have an answer. But he allows himself to cry in Yoongi’s embrace, burrowing into the smaller man’s shoulder as he sobs.
Taehyung’s mood dips again and he’s not surprised that it’s Hoseok that visits. Hoseok has always had a knack for lifting Taehyung’s mood. He doesn’t make it deep like Namjoon or Yoongi, instead he just pulls Taehyung into the living room and slaughters him on rainbow road as if nothing is wrong. Taehyung appreciates the normalcy, even though he still feels hollow and he’s spent more nights than he cares to admit sitting on the roof of his apartment wondering what it’d be like to take the plunge. It’s easier when Hoseok acts as if everything’s all right, it makes him feel as if it might just be - even if it’s only for a few moments.
It’s Jimin he calls at three in the morning, because the fresh cuts on his thighs sting and he doesn’t trust himself to be alone anymore. Jimin isn’t even angry as he helps Taehyung clean the cuts and bandage them, more than Taehyung had ever done for the cuts himself but Jimin doesn't need to know that. Jimin’s eyes are sad as he dabs antiseptic on the cuts, ignoring the hisses that escape Taehyung’s lips. After the cuts are clean and bandaged, Jimin takes the razor that Taehyung had been using and throws it out, going through the apartment for any spares while Taehyung watched timidly, the tears streaking his cheeks unbidden. Once the apartment is deemed free of razors Jimin pulls Taehyung into his bedroom, sliding into the bed next to him and pulling the covers up. Taehyung hides his face in Jimin’s chest, shoulders shaking as he sobs. Cries, because he’s guilty of so much and he doesn’t deserve a best friend like Park Jimin. Jimin peppers Taehyung’s hair with soft kisses, whispering into the soft strands that it’ll be okay and that he’ll help Taehyung through this, but only if Taehyung lets him. After Taehyung has cried himself out, they fall asleep curled around each other, Taehyung’s fingers tightly tangled in Jimin’s t-shirt.
Jeongguk is there when Taehyung’s anger explodes. The ferocity takes both of them by surprise, Taehyung staring at the shattered remains of the glass he’d thrown and Jeongguk walking towards him with his palms bared as if approaching a wild animal. Apologies spew from Taehyung’s lips, anger fading as soon as it had arrived, leaving Taehyung confused and too tired to feel anything other than empty surprise. Taehyung immediately goes to clean the mess he’d created, sorry a mindless litany on his lips as he sweeps up the glass, pointedly avoiding Jeongguk’s gaze. Jeongguk isn’t really angry, though he probably should be. They play video games until Jeongguk can pull his thoughts together enough to timidly suggest a therapist that he’d gone to in the past. Taehyung can’t even be angry at the suggestion because he knows just how truly messed up he feels. He nods, taking the card from Jeongguk and promising to call, though he knows he probably won’t be able to make the call by himself.
Taehyung finds himself at the top of the scaffolding, staring into the water like it holds all the answers. He can hear Jimin and Yoongi yelling at him and he knows that Jeongguk is climbing up to pull him back. He wishes he could stop himself as he takes another step towards the edge. A deep breath and then he sinks to his knees, sobbing as the reality of what he was about to do hits him. Jeongguk’s touch is gentle as he pulls Taehyung a little further away from the edge, pulling him into his embrace and listening as Taehyung stutters, frantically trying to explain what he was thinking.
Seokjin calls the therapist for him.
Genuine smiles are hard to fake, Taehyung realizes, his cheeks hurting from smiling so hard and stomach aching from laughing so much. There’s the brightness in the eyes that you can’t fake. There’s the watery eyes from laughing so hard. It’s a wonder he thought faking it was convincing at all.