Chapter Text
Mood Song: Dream by Lisa
Jeon Jeogguk
☾ 28 years
☾ Idol
Park Jimin
☾ 30 years
☾ Radio DJ
Min Yoongi
☾ 32 years
☾ Psychiatrist
Kim Taehyung
☾ 28 years
☾ Idol
Kim Namjoon
☾ 31 years
☾ Idol/Rapper
Kim Seokjin
☾ 32 years
☾ Idol
Jung Hoseok
☾ 31 years
☾ Idol/Dancer
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Seoul, 2025
The sound of footsteps against the wooden floor echoed through the apartment, each thud a reminder of a reality Jeongguk wished he could avoid for eternity. People moved briskly around him, arms full of boxes and bags, carrying away the pieces of his life, trinkets and treasures gathered from years across the world, fragments of a time he had once shared with someone who no longer stood beside him. In the bedroom, Taehyung and Seokjin bickered playfully over how to sort his belongings, arguing over categories and labels to make unpacking easier later.
The men in matching navy-blue jumpers, the hired movers, shuffled about. It was just another day, another job, lifting and packing without knowing they were dismantling more than just furniture. They were dismantling Jeongguk’s history, his memories, his life. He wanted to help, to carry something, anything, or at least stand by them and sort them out. But his body felt anchored to the floor, as though every movement might snap the thin thread holding him together. His gaze wandered over the space, now stripped of its once-lived-in warmth, corners bare where once there had been color and life. The home was becoming unrecognizable.
And yet, in every shadow and every corner, Jimin lingered.
Lavender LEGO flowers stood proudly by the TV. A stuffed bunny still sat on the couch, ears drooping as if it, too, had lost something so precious. The marble-topped coffee table Jimin had insisted on gleamed in the living room’s center under the sunlight. A black leather cloak hung carelessly from the dresser, chick-shaped mugs waited on the kitchen counter, a sleek peach guitar leaned against the huge piano, and beige throws lay draped across the couch. Little, ordinary things, but to Jeongguk, they were relics. Proof that love had once lived here.
Two years had passed since Jimin walked away. Two years that should have been enough to heal, to forget, to move forward, and to be happy. But Jeongguk hadn’t moved at all. He dismissed the thought of erasing Jimin from his existence. He had lived in the echo of that departure, in the lingering scent of Jimin’s cologne on the leather cloak though he knew it was just his mind playing tricks, in the way the chick mugs still seemed to smile at him with a squeal at the end. He had lived in rooms that breathed Jimin’s name into his ear every time he closed his eyes.
Now Jeongguk was leaving. He had signed the contract for a larger, brighter, far more expensive apartment, one that was supposed to symbolize a new beginning, one they were meant to buy together. Instead, the memory of signing it was tangled in the memory of curling up on his bed afterward, choking on sobs until exhaustion claimed him. Today, as he watched strangers wrap, lift, and carry his life away, numbness settled over him like frost, like a boulder that weighed tons. He could barely feel his fingers. His chest felt hollow, but the ache was still there, coiled like a living thing.
Each item taken out the door felt like a piece of Jimin being erased, discarded, stolen from him. It didn’t matter that the objects were coming with him; what mattered was that they were leaving here , leaving the place where they carried a meaning. He stood in the middle of the dismantled living room, the sound of tape being pulled and boxes being sealed filling the silence. And all he could think was that he wasn’t just moving houses. He was moving away from the last place where Jimin had loved him. And that felt like losing him all over again.
“Jeongguk-ah… the bedroom’s done. Should we go grab some lunch while they move the bigger things?”
Taehyung’s voice floated in from the bedroom doorway, casual, the kind of tone that fit an ordinary day. He emerged from the bedroom, phone still in hand, thumb scrolling lazily while Seokjin murmured instructions to the packers behind him. The offer made sense, of course it did, but Jeongguk couldn’t summon the will to move even a muscle. His legs felt glued to the floor, his chest felt with emotions. All he wanted was to stay. To stand in this room and let the walls close in on him. To stare at this space until it burned itself into his memory, because soon it would no longer be theirs. Soon it would belong to someone who would never know the sound of Jimin’s laughter echoing in it.
“Gguk!”
“Let’s go. Come on!”
Seokjin stood before him now, voice soft but firm, his gaze flicking over Jeongguk’s stillness until his expression eased into quiet understanding and concern. It was as if he’d found the source of that emptiness in Jeongguk’s face. He wanted to speak, but the words inside him were molten, scalding his throat. He wanted to scream. To rage. To beg. To rip open the air, travel back in time and demand that Jimin step through it… right here, right now, and wrap him up the way he used to, murmuring that it would be okay, no matter how bad it hurt. The thoughts clawed at him, unrelenting, each one a sharp-edged glass, a reminder that he had been the reason Jimin left. That he had been the one to break what could have lasted. Jeongguk’s chest constricted, his breath coming too fast, his eyes blurring under the weight of it.
“Gguk…”
Taehyung crouched in front of him, grounding him with warm palms against his knees. His voice softened, his fingers hooking gently under Jeongguk’s chin, lifting his face until their eyes met.
“Hey… please…”
And Jeongguk shattered. The first sob broke out of him like something torn loose, jagged and uncontrollable. He let his head fall back against the couch, eyes clamped shut, tears spilling fast and hot down his cheeks. His teeth sank into his lower lip, a futile attempt to keep the sound in, to swallow the ache tearing through his chest. But it was too much. Too loud inside him. Too sharp.
“Jeongguk-ah, it’s okay to be upset. Look at me”
Seokjin’s voice was gentle, his hand a steady weight on Jeongguk’s shoulder before he pulled him close, holding him tight against his chest. And Jeongguk clung… clung the way a child might, desperate and unthinking, fingers fisting into the fabric of Seokjin’s shirt. His sobs shook his frame. Two years had passed, two whole years since Jimin walked away, but time had done nothing to dull the truth. It still hurt the same. Maybe worse. Because now he knew this wasn’t just grief. This was punishment. One might laugh, might say he was being dramatic, still mourning something that ended so long ago. But they wouldn’t know. They wouldn’t know what it was to lose someone not because they stopped loving you, but because you drove them away. Because you failed to be brave enough to keep them.
“I… I miss him”
The words hung between them, heavy as lead. No one would understand what he felt, not even his friends because they weren’t the ones that loved Jimin, they weren't the ones that watched him leave, they weren’t the ones that pushed him away. And in the hollow quiet that followed, Jeongguk felt the truth settle in his bones… he wasn’t just missing Jimin. He was missing the only version of himself who had ever truly been loved.
The road to his new apartment stretched out endlessly, each mile dragging him farther from the place that had once been theirs. Jeongguk leaned his temple against the cold glass, welcoming the way its chill seeped into his skin, a stark contrast against the hot dried tears. Outside, buildings blurred into trees, then back into streets again, shapes and colors passing him by without leaving a mark. The car was quiet except for the low hum of a mellow tune drifting from the speakers, its softness only making the silence heavier. Taehyung kept his eyes fixed on the road ahead, hands steady on the wheel, while Seokjin shifted every so often in the passenger seat, glancing back as if checking to see if Jeongguk was still breathing.
But Jeongguk’s mind wasn’t there. It had slipped away, back to another time, another car ride. Back to when Jimin was next to him, legs tucked up, eyes crinkled as he laughed at something ridiculous. Jimin had always insisted on being a passenger princess, even though he was the better driver between them. Jeongguk had loved it that way… loved being the one behind the wheel, Jimin’s voice filling the space between them, his hands sneaking into the snack bag to feed him without looking away from the road. He could still hear the playful whine when the snacks ran out before they even arrived, the pout that followed, the way Jimin would make him promise to stop for food on the way back.
They would sing, no, scream their favorite songs until their throats were raw, Jimin’s laughter spilling into the music as he bopped his head and danced as much as the seatbelt allowed. Those drives had been loud, messy, alive. Now the only sound was the muted strum of the car’s speakers and the quiet ache in his chest that had no intention of leaving him. The memories didn’t just hurt… they hollowed him out. They were shards of a life he could never piece back together, moments he had let slip through his fingers. And with every mile, he felt them pulling at him, dragging him backward, even as the car carried him forward.
He missed not just Jimin’s voice and laughter, but the way the world had felt lighter and alive when he was in it. Now the road ahead felt heavier, endless, like he was heading somewhere he didn’t really want to go.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
As much as Jeongguk would have preferred to wander aimlessly around the new apartment, letting his days dissolve into the quiet hum of nothing, allowing him to wallow, life refused to pause for him. The world still demanded his presence. There were schedules to keep, stages to stand on, rehearsals to attend, and expectations to uphold. It was during moments like these that he found himself resenting the road his career had taken. The group had agreed to take a hiatus for three years, with each member focusing on solo ventures, a decision that had seemed exciting at the time.
But the thrill had faded quickly, replaced by a hollow dissatisfaction, even more after the breakup. His friends, his colleagues, the people who had been his constant anchor for so many years, were scattered across different projects, countries, and time zones. Without them, the ground beneath him felt unsteady. It had been two weeks since the move. Two weeks in the new place that didn’t yet feel like home, it would never be home. And now, here he was… New York. Landed just yesterday, already swallowed by the hectic schedule. Today, he sat in a sleek glass-walled radio booth, the low buzz of equipment filling the air.
The irony wasn’t lost on him. A radio station. Not the one, but close enough that it might as well have been. A space where Jimin’s voice would have fit so perfectly, where his laugh would have carried effortlessly through the speakers. It was almost cruel how familiar it felt, how easily it dug into places inside his heart he was trying to bury. Jeongguk adjusted his crisp flannel shirt, smoothing a nonexistent crease to ease the nerves, his fingers lingering as if prolonging the motion might delay what was coming.
A careful hand raked through his hair, mindful not to disturb the work of the stylists. The hosts sat across from him, all bright smiles and eager eyes, microphones tilted forward. He smiled back… trained, polite. But deep down, he wished it were someone else sitting there. Someone he hadn’t seen in years but still thought about every single day. The interview began with the safe questions, ones he could answer without thinking too much.
“Congratulations! Your new single has been doing incredibly well on the charts. Tell us about the inspiration behind it”
Jeongguk let out a measured laugh. He had known this would be the first question.
“Thank you. It came from a very personal place. I wanted to write something honest, something that felt real to me. I think when you’re making music, the most important thing is to put a part of yourself into it, otherwise, it doesn’t make sense. For me, it was about the moments you can’t get back. The memories. They are irreversible, and I wanted to show it through the song”
His voice was steady, but his thumb rubbed idly against the curve of his palm under the table, grounding himself. He should focus.
“That’s beautiful!”
Another host chimed in, before adding…
“Is it true you’ve been working on your second full-length album?”
Jeongguk nodded.
“Yes. I’ve been collecting ideas for a while now. Not just songs that I think will sound good, but songs that tell a story from start to finish. Like a film, a play. I want the album to feel like a journey, where every track takes you somewhere new but also connects to the last. I’m… taking my time with it. I don’t want to rush something that means this much to me”
“And with that in mind… any chance of a world tour once the album drops?”
The question made Jeongguk’s lips twitch upward, half a smile, half a smirk.
“That’s the hope. Performing live is the best part of what I do. I feel alive, and I think there’s something really special about standing on stage and feeling thousands of people singing back to you. It’s… grounding in a way, even when it’s overwhelming. Hopefully one day”
His gaze drifted for a moment, eyes unfocusing as a memory surfaced… Jimin was in the stands, mouthing " you’ve got this" before he stepped into the spotlight. Jeongguk blinked, pulling himself back before the pause became noticeable.
“Your fans would be elated by this information, and touring can be exhausting. Do you still get nervous before big performances?”
“All the time!”
Jeongguk admitted with a quiet laugh and a shake of his head.
“I don’t think that ever really goes away. No matter how many years pass. I just… learned to turn it into something that helps me rather than stops me. That fear, that adrenaline… It reminds me that this matters. That I still care and that people still love me and my music”
Jeongguk’s words were true, but his chest felt tight because the truth he didn’t say was that the nerves had been easier to handle when there had been someone waiting at the other end of the stage lights. When Jimin would step in sneakily, hug him, run his hand through his hair, and kiss him with the sweetest smile, all while murmuring sweet nothings to ease the nerves. Jeongguk felt invincible. The hosts nodded, satisfied with his answers, moving on to the next topic. He kept his posture relaxed, his voice warm, his smile in place. But beneath the surface, every word he spoke carried the weight of someone missing. Every thought seemed to bend toward the same invisible point.
The interview was fine. Manageable. Until the shift.
“So, Jeongguk…”
One of the hosts began, voice laced with mischief and his shoulders stiffened.
“There were rumors that you were dating someone a couple years ago… care to share if you’re seeing anyone now?”
Jeongguk froze. Only for a fraction of a second, but he felt it, his pulse spiking, his breath catching. The question was playful, harmless to anyone else. But for him, it was a knife disguised as curiosity. These kinds of questions were common, though he had never appreciated it. He shouldn’t be surprised, but it ached nonetheless. He smiled because that’s what he was supposed to do. The muscles in his face obeyed even as his chest felt like it was being crushed.
“No, not right now!”
Jeongguk answered lightly. But the words lodged in his throat like splinters. Another host chimed in with a glint in the eyes.
“So there was someone in the past?”
And just like that, Jeongguk was back there. The memory flared hot, uninvited, raised voices in a dimly lit room, Jimin’s eyes shimmering with unshed tears, the tremble in his own hands as he reached out only to be pushed away. Words spoken in frustration, sharp and final. The slam of a door. Silence. Jeongguk answered with something vague, something safe, but the air in the room felt thinner now, like the walls were caving in. His heart was pounding too loudly in his ears, his tongue was dry, and his hands were hidden under the table so no one could see how tightly he was curling them into fists.
The rest of the interview blurred into the background, questions, laughter, and responses all blending into white noise. Jeongguk performed the way he always did: smile, speak, charm the world. But his body felt detached, his mind drowning in the echo of a voice that wasn’t here anymore. When it ended, they thanked him, hugged him, appreciated him, and told him what a pleasure it was to have him. Jeongguk nodded, bowed slightly, and kept the mask on. But the moment he stepped out of the booth, the air felt different… sharp, punishing, and cold. A staff member guided him toward the exit, the world moving and spinning too fast around him. Cameras flashed, people called his name, but it was all muffled.
By the time he slid into the back seat of the car waiting for him, the dam broke. His trembling hands went to his face, and the first sob tore out of him before he could swallow it down. His chest heaved, the kind of trembling that shook him from the inside out, ripping the resolve piece by piece. He didn’t care if the driver heard. Didn’t care if the others waiting outside the station saw. Jeongguk pressed his head to the seat, eyes shut, letting the sound of his own breathing fill the space. It had been years, but the wound had never healed. And today, with a single careless question, it had been ripped open again… bleeding the same way it had the night Jimin left.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
6 years ago
Jeongguk was late. Again. But this time, late enough for it to earn him Seokjin’s signature you’re-dead glare the second he stepped into the radio interview room. Namjoon didn’t bother hiding his raised brow of disapproval, and Hoseok, though quiet, radiated the kind of calm that promised a lecture later. Taehyung, bless him, just slid a hand under the table to squeeze Jeongguk’s thigh in solidarity. He sank into the empty seat, lungs burning from the sprint, trying to catch his breath without making it too obvious. But then… he looked up. And every thought evaporated into thin air.
Damn.
That was it. That was the only word his brain could form. Everything else short-circuited. It felt like the air had been punched out of his lungs, but in a good way. If the whole bells ringing when you meet your soulmate theory were real, Jeongguk was convinced the entire world would be hearing a deafening, twinkling chorus right now. He’d never believed in love at first sight. Never. But maybe this was it. Maybe this was how he went out… death by beauty.
Because the man sitting across from him? Definitely not human. Nowhere close. If someone told him he’d fallen straight out of heaven, Jeongguk wouldn’t even question it. His members were answering questions, and their voices floated around him like background music, but Jeongguk couldn’t process a single word they were speaking. He was too busy staring. Cream button-down, collar just open enough to reveal delicate collarbones. Black hair falling softly against his temples. Lashes so long they could probably fan away a heatwave rising inside him. Rosy cheeks, button nose… God, that nose, and then… the lips. Pink, plump, perfect, everything Jeongguk had ever liked in his life condensed into one devastatingly unfair mouth. He was floating. No gravity, no common sense. Just him, lost in the thought of how unfair it was for someone to look like that and not be illegal.
“Jeongguk!”
A nudge to his shin snapped him back to reality. Taehyung’s foot. He had fire in his eyes.
“Jeongguk!!”
Taehyung said again under his breath, a frown tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“They asked you a question”
Right. A question. From… oh. Oh no. From him . The man of all his dreams, real and imagined, was looking straight at him, waiting for an answer. Jeongguk’s mouth moved before his brain could catch up.
“Uh… yeah. I… also like bread”
Silence. Utter Silence full of what the fuck stares.
And then the prettiest sound Jeongguk had ever heard… laughter. The man threw his head back, eyes crinkling into crescent moons, shoulders shaking as he laughed like Jeongguk had just told the best joke in the world instead of… whatever that was. Jeongguk felt his ears heat, but it didn’t matter. He would say a thousand stupid things and make a fool out of himself if it meant hearing that laugh again. And just like that, he was falling… hard, fast, no safety net. All over again.
The interview wrapped up far too soon for Jeongguk’s liking. One second, he was basking in the presence of that man, and the next, the staff were ushering them toward the waiting cars like sheep on a tight schedule. No chance to linger, no chance to casually slip in a “hey, what’s your number?” Nothing. By the time he was slumped in the car seat, Jeongguk’s pout was so deep it could rival a sad puppy’s.
“Wipe that pout off your face!”
Taehyung chirped from beside him, wearing a grin so smug it made Jeongguk want to, just for a second, throw him out of the moving car, but he ignored him.
“I see someone sulking…”
Taehyung sing-songed, leaning closer until their shoulders bumped.
“And I think I knoooow why!”
That got Jeongguk’s attention. He glanced over just in time to see Taehyung wag a finger dramatically in front of his face, like he was about to expose the biggest secret of the century.
“He was so pretty!”
Jeongguk admitted with a dreamy sigh, the disappointment practically dripping from his voice.
“I’m in love”
“Who?”
Taehyung asked, though his grin said he already knew the answer.
“The one in the cream shirt”
Jeongguk replied instantly, no hesitation, and Taehyung gasped, hand flying to his chest like he’d just been given the juiciest gossip of his life. Then the gasp dissolved into that same infuriating grin, this time laced with mischief.
“Oh my god. You’re in love with Jimin-ie ?”
Jeongguk’s head snapped toward him so fast he nearly strained his neck.
“You know him? Hyung… you know him?”
Taehyung rolled his eyes like the answer was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Of… fucking… course”
Jeongguk’s jaw dropped.
“You could’ve told me! What the hell?”
“I didn’t know you loved him!”
Taehyung shot back, his voice edging on mock-offended.
“Since when?”
“Since an hour ago!”
Jeongguk blurted, then groaned and buried his face in his hands, pulling at his hair.
“Hyung, nooo…”
Tae’s mouth flattened into a straight line, but his eyes sparkled.
“You’re ridiculous. Like, world record ridiculous”
Jeongguk peeked through his fingers, pout still evident.
“So… Jimin. That’s his name?”
“Yep. Park Jimin. We went to the same school before he moved to New York. We’re friends”
“So he’s my hyung?”
“Yup. Same age as me”
Taehyung paused for dramatic effect before adding with a grin.
“Also… single”
The wink that followed nearly blinded Jeongguk. His heart did a weird, giddy somersault. And Taehyung, sensing victory, wasn’t done.
“Should I tell him? Or should I wait until you’ve embarrassed yourself at least three more times? I feel like that’d be more romantic and more entertaining for me”
Jeongguk groaned again, but it didn’t stop the stupid grin stretching across his face. This might actually be the happiest he’d ever been in his life.
Back to Present
Jeongguk slid down the wall, knees giving way as the weight of his emotions crashed over him in relentless waves. His body trembled, his mind swirling with way too much alcohol, a dull echo of the storm inside. He knew he hadn’t truly moved on, but that single question during the interview had ripped open old wounds, slicing through his carefully held composure like a blade. Tears blurred his vision as he shakily unlocked his phone and dialed the first number his blurry fingers could find.
“Jeongguk-ah?”
Hoseok. And immediately, guilt struck him. He shouldn’t be disturbing his hyungs, not when they were busy with their own lives. Hoseok was in Germany for a music festival, and for a moment, Jeongguk considered hanging up. But it was as if Hoseok sensed his turmoil, he spoke from the other side.
“Are you… Jeongguk-ie, are you crying?”
Pathetic. That was all he felt. But there was no one else to turn to… only his friends, his family.
“Hyung…”
A sharp intake of breath on the other end, followed by hurried shuffling. Hoseok’s voice grew more urgent.
“What’s wrong? Jeongguk, oh my god… are you drunk too?”
What was wrong? How could he explain the hollow ache inside him? All he wanted was to see Jimin again, to curl into his lap, to apologize for being weak, for being cowardly.
“I need him, Hyung… I want to say I was pathetic. I want to see him. Please… Let me see him”
His words slurred, jagged and fragile, his thoughts teetering on the edge of collapse.
“Jeongguk-ah… yes, you were a coward. You loved him and you still do. But it’s done. I know it hurts. I know you miss him. But it’s over, sweetheart. Please… don’t punish yourself. Jeongguk-ie, please…”
It’s over. It’s done.
The words were too much. He couldn’t take them, couldn’t bear the finality spoken by someone else. With a painful groan, he hurled the phone across the room. His scream tore through him, a raw, hollow sound of grief and frustration. He could hear Hoseok’s voice on the other end, panicked and pleading, but he had no strength left to respond. His vision blurred, his body gave in, and with one last shuddering cry, Jeongguk collapsed to the floor, letting the alcohol and despair finally swallow him whole.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Seattle, Washington
The gentle drumming of rain against the windows had always been a kind of music to Jimin, a sound that somehow eased the tension in his body. Seattle’s weather had a way of slowing life down, of making him feel rested, even if just for a moment, even if it was just physically. He had moved here almost a year and a half ago, a decision that had cost him more than he expected. The life he had shared with someone once so central to his world was now locked away, a chapter he couldn’t reopen. Mindlessly, he stirred his coffee, thinking back to days when happiness had seemed simple, effortless.
Work was steady in Seattle. He’d been a radio host for years, and though he had plenty of opportunities to interview celebrities or cover high-profile stories, he chose to keep a low profile now. What had it cost him when he let himself go? In exchange, Seattle had given him peace, and it had given him Min Yoongi. The kindest, most grounding soul, who had become both friend and therapist. When Jimin first stumbled into the city, heartbroken and fragile, Yoongi had been in the same building, helping him carry his luggage. Their friendship had formed naturally, and soon, Yoongi became the anchor Jimin never realized he needed.
Jimin would be forever grateful to him, the countless nights Yoongi had sacrificed sleep to calm his nightmares, the unwavering presence that helped him reclaim a sense of stability in life. Recovery hadn’t been easy, and though the impulsive events in Tokyo two years ago were long past, their impact lingered, leaving invisible scars. Through it all, Yoongi remained steady, a powerful presence, the closest thing to family Jimin had ever had. His spiraling thoughts were interrupted by the café door opening, a little chime announcing someone’s arrival. Yoongi stepped in, a twinkle in his eye, wearing a navy hoodie and faded jeans. Jimin couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face.
“Hyung! It’s been so long”
“Jimin-ah, we met a week ago”
Yoongi smiled but offered the hug, pulling Jimin close and pressing a kiss to the temple, something that’s reserved only for Jimin.
“Still… that was with everyone in the apartment complex”
Yoongi laughed and ordered his own coffee with a couple cupcakes.
“When’s your flight?”
At this Jimin deflated. He hadn’t set foot in New York since forever, not after he moved out. But now he had no choice.
“8 pm. I feel anxious about this whole ordeal. I have to go but I don’t know if I want to”
Jimin murmured, clutching his coffee cup a little tighter as if it could anchor him. Yoongi’s gaze softened, concern and quiet reassurance swimming in his eyes.
“Evelyn’s been your friend for so long. I’m sure she’d be over the moon to have you at her wedding. But nothing matters more than your well-being. You still have time. Think it through, Minnie”
He was right, of course. Yoongi always was. Yet Jimin felt like a duck stuck in the middle of a pond, frozen, unable to decide. They had once worked as radio hosts together, swapping shifts and stories, and Evelyn had been the only one he stayed in touch with after moving to Seattle. He couldn’t ignore her wedding invitation… complete with a cute handwritten note and a scattering of Polaroids that pulled at his chest with memories of a past life.
“I know, Hyung. She’ll understand. I want to be there, I really do. But… It's been so long since I set foot in New York. And that place… it holds so many memories, Hyung. Memories that still burn”
Yoongi reached out, gently squeezing Jimin’s hand with an understanding smile.
“I’ve seen you at your lowest, Jimin-ah. And I’m proud that you’re willing to step back into this. You deserve to enjoy it. I can’t ask you to erase those memories… they’re part of you, but don’t let them pull you down. Go with the flow. And if it ever feels like too much, I’m just a call away. You can come back at any time”
Jimin blinked, swallowing hard. He didn’t know what he would’ve done without Yoongi. Truly. He needed to find a way to bring the world to this man’s feet someday. After a moment, Yoongi rose, sliding his jacket over the hoodie.
“Come on. I can drive you to the airport. Better safe than stressed”
Jimin hesitated only a second before following, feeling lighter simply knowing Yoongi was there, at least till the airport. Outside, the night was crisp and quiet, rain-slicked streets reflecting the glow of city lights that made the scene look whimsical. They settled into the car, the hum of the engine blending with the steady rhythm of their breathing. As Yoongi navigated the empty roads, he reached over, lightly brushing Jimin’s hand.
“You’re going to be okay, Jimin-ah. Really. Trust me”
His voice was soft, steady, a gentle anchor amidst the storm of nerves and memories.
“Take it one step at a time. The moment you feel overwhelmed… Remember, I’m here. Always. You can get on the next flight or I can stay on phone for as long as you want”
Jimin leaned back against the seat, letting the quiet reassurance wash over him. The city blurred past, and for a moment, he let himself believe it: that maybe he could face New York again. When they arrived at the airport, Yoongi parked near the terminal, turning to Jimin with a small, encouraging smile.
“You’ve got this. One flight, one memory at a time. And when you want… I’ll be right here waiting for you”
Yoongi ruffled his hair and Jimin forced a small smile, nodding as he gathered his things. There wasn’t much. Just a suitcase with a small duffel bag. He would be leaving for just a week. With a final squeeze of his hand, Yoongi let him go, watching as Jimin disappeared into the terminal. The reassurance lingered in the air long after, a quiet promise he would carry onto the plane.
4 years ago
“That… That felt like I was walking through a lava ready to burst”
Jimin held his shirt, hand resting on the chest as they sat comfortably in the safe confines of Jeongguk’ private jet. This must have been the most risky thing they’ve ever done. Jimin still couldn’t believe he had agreed to this but Jeongguk was one stubborn brat.
“Hyung… we are safe now and we came in through the back entrance. No one would’ve seen us”
Jeongguk chuckled, putting up their bags in the adjacent seat before getting into the soft seat right beside Jimin. It was their second anniversary in two days and Jeongguk, ever the adventurous one, decided they would be going on a little trip to Switzerland.
“Yeah but still…”
Jimin knew he was being paranoid but he just couldn’t face the media and if something were to happen, he would be better swallowed by the ground. That was risky. Too risky. Jeongguk poked at his side, de-eyes twinkling in the dim lights.
“You got me, okay? We will be safe”
Jimin gave a reluctant nod. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Jeongguk, he did, completely, but the media and paparazzi were a different story. A public reveal like this could easily spiral into a scandal. Before he could process the thought, Jeongguk leaned forward and pressed a wet, surprising kiss to his lips. Jimin froze for a heartbeat, then melted into it, needing warmth and reassurance. When Jeongguk pulled back, a mischievous glint danced in his eyes. Jimin raised a brow, suspicious.
“What?”
“You know… I’ve been thinking about something lately…”
Jeongguk said, voice low and teasing, and Jimin felt his heart thrum in his chest.
“You are scaring me, Gguk”
“Hey… it’s nothing crazy. With all our schedules, the promotions, and how often we’re in the U.S., I was just thinking… Maybe I should get a place here in New York. Nothing huge or fancy, just… a cozy apartment, maybe a penthouse, something cute and warm. You could move in, and I’d stay with you whenever I’m here. What do you think, Hyung?”
Jimin’s jaw nearly dropped. Out of everything Jeongguk could have said, this was what he chose, and his heart couldn’t handle it. He was utterly, hopelessly in love with the dorky man sitting in front of him.
“That’s incredible! Baby, that would be perfect. Jeongguk-ah, look at you, all grown up”
Jimin said, laughing as he shook his head in disbelief. Jeongguk rolled his eyes, lips pouting, and Jimin couldn’t resist pressing another kiss to them, still laughing.
“So, that’s a yes?”
“Always a yes”
Jimin replied, heart completely surrendered.
Back to Present
Memories had a way of being cruel, especially when the person who had once filled them was no longer there. Jimin sat on the flight to New York, staring out the window as the clouds blurred beneath him, letting his thoughts drift to the one who still held his heart, even the pieces. Jeongguk. He hadn’t kept up with Jeongguk’s life or the group; Taehyung occasionally sent small, casual messages, but they never mentioned him.
It was a quiet kind of sadness, realizing how much he had distanced himself from everyone after the nasty breakup. Taehyung’s persistence had forced him to reply sometimes, but it had been two long years since he’d seen his friends. Messages from them had arrived in the months after the split, wanting to be there for him, but Jimin had been too stubborn, too cautious, to let anyone close to that chapter of his heart again. He wondered, briefly, if Jeongguk had moved on. Had he found someone… girlfriend, boyfriend? The thought twisted his chest painfully. If it was a boyfriend, he wasn’t sure he could bear the sting.
Hours later, after catching a few minutes of sleep, Jimin finally stepped off the plane. The air of New York hit him first… the sharp scent, the constant hum of life, the energy of the streets, and for a moment, he felt both alive and terrified. The city had changed, or maybe it was him. Everything seemed the same, yet nothing felt familiar. The car ride was eerily quiet and by the time he reached the apartment, his hands were clammy, and his heart beat faster than it should have. The keys felt heavier in his grasp than they had two years ago.
Jimin hesitated at the door as if he were facing a monster, taking a deep breath as if bracing himself for an emotional wave he knew was coming. Stepping inside was like opening a time capsule. The apartment hadn’t changed; not the furniture, not the little trinkets he had left behind, not the faint scent of memories lingering in the air. It was as though the space had been waiting for him, holding every echo of laughter, every shared kiss, every argument, every playful banter, every not-so-innocent act, every quiet moment he had spent there with Jeongguk.
When the door closed behind him and time seemed to slow down, the emotions crashed in, unrelenting. Jimin’s chest tightened, his legs trembled, and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe. Even in the dark, he could see their silhouettes dancing. The laughter, the warmth, every memory, every trace of Jeongguk came rushing back with painful clarity. His hands shook as he leaned against the wall, letting the memories wash over him like a storm, every corner of the apartment a reminder of what he had lost, of what still lived in his heart.
“Jeongguk…”
He whispered to no one in particular as tears stung. The name felt both sacred and unbearable, carried by the ghosts of their past, the love he had never been able to let go.
4 years ago
The familiar hum of the booth was comforting, the soft crackle of the microphone and the muted city sounds outside grounding Jimin in his routine. He was just back from Switzerland after spending time with Jeongguk who clearly had no intention of letting him rest. He swirled his coffee, reading through song requests and emails as the first callers lined up. The late-evening slot had always been his favorite… the quiet, the intimacy, the way his voice could reach someone miles away. Just as he was cueing the first track, his phone buzzed on the desk. Expecting another routine message from one of his friends, he glanced down, and froze.
Jeongguk 💕
Are you a magician? Because every time I look at you, everyone else disappears
Jimin’s cheeks flamed hotter than the studio lights. He coughed into his hand, pretending to clear his throat as he typed a distracted reply, trying not to giggle too loudly into the mic. Didn’t his boyfriend say he had a morning schedule? They were miles, miles away.
Gguk, you do know I am on air right now, right?
Jeongguk 💕
Even better.
I like hearing your voice.
Makes my heart do dumb things
Jimin groaned, hiding his face behind his hand, and muttered something about “this is not fair” under his breath. He could feel the warmth creeping up his neck, threatening to make him completely lose his professional composure. No one could see him, of course, but he couldn’t lose himself, and Jeongguk wasn’t making it any easier. Another buzz.
Jeongguk 💕
Are you Wi-Fi?
Because I’m feeling a connection I can’t explain
Jimin’s laughter slipped out into the mic, a little higher-pitched than normal, making him scowl at himself. It was good he was on mute as the song played. He cursed under his breath, trying not to snort, grabbing a tissue to dab at his cheeks. He couldn’t help it. Jeongguk’s texts were relentless, cheesy, and entirely effective.
Shut up. Ew!
Jeongguk 💕
If you were a vegetable, you’d be a cute-cumber
My cucumber
What the fuck?!
Jeongguk 💕
Oh! That came out wrong. Oops!
Jimin groaned harshly, though the smile tugging at his lips betrayed him. That “Oops!” definitely had malicious intentions. He tried to focus on reading the next request, but each ping from Jeongguk made his heart stutter. Finally, the final text came through.
Jeongguk 💕
We might be traveling soon. At least Hobi Hyung and I
Can’t wait to see you soon, Hyung!
And kiss you and love you…
Jimin buried his face in his hands, laughing softly despite himself. He could feel the heat in his chest, the pink on his cheeks, and the grin he couldn’t quite suppress. The whole booth seemed warmer somehow, the lights gentler, and for the first time in the entire day, he felt completely, ridiculously, joyfully in love.
Back to Present
There was a reason it was a dream, beautiful, calming, untouchable. One of those rare memories that glowed at the edges, both a comfort and a quiet ache. Jimin could never truly forget it, no matter how much he tried. He could never erase Jeongguk from his life. When his eyes fluttered open, the first thing he felt was the dull protest of his muscles, aching and sore. He was still curled awkwardly on the couch, a blanket slipping halfway to the floor. He couldn’t even remember when sleep had claimed him. One moment he’d been staring at the ceiling, lost in thoughts he shouldn’t be entertaining, and the next… nothing.
Groaning softly, Jimin sat up, rubbing the back of his neck before swinging his legs over the side. The afternoon light filtered in through the curtains, soft and golden, and for a fleeting second, it almost carried him back to another time, another place. He shut his eyes and inhaled deeply… no, not now. With deliberate focus, he pushed himself to his feet and headed to the bedroom, dragging the luggage behind him.
Evelyn was expecting him at the wedding venue, and the last thing he needed was to show up looking like he’d just woken from a week-long nap, which might as well be true. Jimin peeled off his wrinkled shirt, letting it drop onto the bed, and moved through the motions mechanically… shower, hair, cologne. Still, his mind kept wandering where it shouldn’t. Back to laughter, to a voice that used to murmur his name in ways that still made his chest tighten. He gripped the edge of the dresser for a moment, steadying himself. Not today. By the time Jimin slipped into his jacket, he had his perfect, all well smile ready, the polished version of himself he’d been practicing for years. Grabbing the keys, he glanced at his reflection one last time, giving himself a quiet nod. Whatever memories lingered, they would stay locked away, at least until after the vows were said and the champagne glasses clinked.
The wedding venue was simple yet breathtaking, white and red drapes swaying softly with the breeze, roses blooming in every corner as though they’d been waiting for this moment too. Jimin sat close to the altar, his smile warm and genuine as he watched Evelyn, radiant in her joy, exchange vows with the person she had loved for what felt like forever. The years between them blurred; he couldn’t quite recall when their story began, only that it had endured, weathered, and now stood here, solid and unwavering, unlike his own. When the officiator finally declared them married and the couple sealed it with a kiss, the crowd erupted in applause.
But somewhere beneath the swell of celebration and happiness he felt, something in Jimin quietly fractured. His hand moved almost instinctively, fingers curling around the delicate chain at his neck until they found the cool band of metal hanging there, a promise ring. His promise ring. A symbol of a love that had once been just as solid, just as certain, until it wasn’t.
As he stared at the newlyweds, an ache bloomed deep in his chest. He wondered… just for a fleeting, dangerous moment if that could have been them. Standing at the altar, hands clasped, exchanging vows under the same golden light. Maybe not here, not now… but perhaps in another life where timing was kinder and the world a little softer. The thought lingered, bittersweet, as he forced his gaze back to Evelyn’s beaming smile. He clapped with everyone else, but his heart was somewhere far away, standing in a place where the ring around his neck had never been reduced to memory.
The sun sank low, painting the sky in hues of pink and violet. Jimin had just finished bidding Evelyn farewell, promising with a genuine smile that they’d catch up properly after a few days. He turned to leave when a familiar arm draped itself over his shoulders, accompanied by an easy, warm grin.
“Look at you! You disappeared from the radio station and practically fell off the face of the earth. We’ve missed you, Jimin-ah”
Jimin chuckled softly, his smile slow to bloom but sincere nonetheless. Before he could respond, more of his former colleagues joined in, voices overlapping with warmth and nostalgia. He had forgotten what life was when he was in New York.
“We’re heading to a club for a few drinks!”
One of them said, grinning.
“Come with us. It’s been way too long since we’ve got together”
Jimin shook his head at first, the polite refusal slipping easily off his tongue. His head was pounding and stepping into the city didn’t help at all.
“I should head home, it’s really been a long day”
But they pressed on and Jimin felt bad because he couldn’t even remember a few of them. It was light teasing, playful pouts, and mock complaints until his resolve wavered. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Yoongi’s words surfaced, firm yet kind, the same ones he’d spoken to him at the airport about letting himself go for a while. There was nothing to lose and going back to the apartment meant pain, the endless longing and aching for the person that was no longer in his life. Jimin hesitated for a moment longer before sighing, the corner of his lips quaking upward in defeat.
“Fine. Just for a little while. I really need to be back home”
His former colleagues erupted in cheers and nodded, promising to drop him off after an hour or so, pulling him along into the night. And as the cool evening air wrapped around him, Jimin wondered if maybe, just maybe, tonight would be different.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
New York
“Jeongguk-ah, there’s still time. Are you absolutely sure you want to go through with this?”
Namjoon’s voice was calm but laced with concern on the other end of the call. Jeongguk exhaled slowly, gaze fixed on the song on the screen before him. This wasn’t just another track; it was a personal piece, a song meant as a letter to the one person he had let slip away. Two years had passed, and maybe his effort would be meaningless. Maybe it would never reach him. But he needed to do it, to capture the ache in his chest, to shape his longing into melody, to finally say the words he never could.
“I am sure, Hyung. I am alright”
It was a lie, and they both knew it. The members had seen through him long ago; they knew the wound had never healed.
“We could still put together a proper promotional plan. Give you some time to think this over. Are you really certain?”
Jeongguk knew Namjoon’s logic was sound. The company wasn’t against his decision of releasing a surprise single, and there was still an out if he wanted it. But with a final, unwavering “yes,” he ended the call, insisting he was okay. Maybe it wasn’t wise to let his private heart spill into a song meant for the public ear. But the guilt was suffocating, and the yearning for Jimin, the love he had lost, was stronger than his fear. He could no longer hold it in.
Jeongguk Drops Surprise Track ‘Dream’: Fans in Shock
In a move that has left both fans and the entire music industry insiders buzzing, global superstar Jeon Jeongguk has released a brand-new single without any prior announcement or promotional teasers. The song, Dream , is a nostalgic, emotionally charged ballad detailing memories of a lost connection, with references to “that night in Tokyo” and the year “2019.” Listeners and keen fans have flooded social media with theories, wondering whether the heartfelt lyrics are directed toward a former partner.
Jeongguk’s ‘Dream’ Lyrics Hint at a Heartbreak No One Saw Coming
Fans are calling Jeongguk’s latest track “a nostalgia” with lines like “Are you always gonna hate me for that night in Tokyo?” and “We can catch up, drive down our old street,” listeners can’t help but speculate and think about the real-life inspiration. Some have linked the timeline in the song to Jeongguk’s hiatus from public appearances for a few months in late 2019, though his agency has yet to comment. Regardless of its origin and the inspiration, the track has already climbed to the top of streaming charts within hours of release.
Surprise Release by Jeongguk Has Fans Playing Detective
No teasers, no promotions. Just a sudden upload that broke the internet. Jeongguk’s ‘Dream’ is being dissected line by line, debating who “you” in the song might be. Some industry sources claim Jeongguk has been quietly working on this track for over a year, while others believe it was a last-minute decision from the singer himself. Many fans have shared emotional reactions online, noting that this song “feels like an apology letter he never got to send”
Jeongguk shut his phone and sprang to his feet, trying his best to empty the thoughts in his head. He had released it because he wanted to and maybe for Jimin… a tiny flicker of hope in his chest, that maybe Jimin would listen to it. He walked to the door, and pulled on the jacket. He had to get out and get drunk. He couldn’t stay sober with the thought of the song being out to the public.
.
.
.
The club was nothing like Jimin had imagined. It was glittering and extravagant, the kind of place reserved for the elite… celebrities, CEOs, and those who moved in in Limousines. He didn’t belong here. Not really. Yet here he was, perched on a sleek barstool, a half-finished glass of whiskey in hand, while his colleagues had already melted into the crowd, dancing, laughing, and mingling as if they were born to be here. He should have said no. From the moment the pounding bass rattled through his chest and the neon lights swirled across the room in dizzying flashes, Jimin had felt out of place.
The air was thick with perfume, alcohol, and a kind of energy he couldn’t quite settle into. He nursed his drink in silence, waiting for some kind of spark, some reason to stay, but it never came. Eventually, Jimin decided to call it a night. He slid off the stool, ready to make his quiet exit. But as he turned toward the door, his gaze caught on someone across the room.
Jeongguk
The world seemed to tilt and halt. Jimin’s heart plunged straight to his stomach, cold and heavy, as if all the air had been sucked from the space around him. And then, like a freight train, memories roared through him, unrelenting, hitting him with a force making him stumble. Laughter spilling in the backseat of a car, whispered promises in dim-lit hallways, the taste of summer nights and the fight in Tokyo. They slammed into him one after another until he could barely breathe. And Jeongguk was staring back, expression unreadable, yet heavy enough to pull Jimin under water all over again.