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“Ok, lets run through the breakdown one more time and then we can wrap it up!”
The echo of the director’s voice reverberates through the large soundstage while Bangtan falls into position and schools their expressions. The music booms through the speakers and the team hears Hoseok countdown to start moving.
“Bah, bah, BAH!” Bangtan moves as a unit, fed off of pure muscle memory. Their feet fly across the floor to the fast paced electronic tempo. Hoseok starts the group off in the center moving his hands in a way that framed his face, while twerking his neck sharply in the direction his hands seemed to command. His legs bent up, like a high knee exercise, and his lips moved along to the ‘la-la-la-la-la’ chorus so it could be picked up by the cameras. Then his hands moved until the were flat and level with his hips, waving twice at the floor. He inhaled and performed several more precise and calculated movements before he pointed to his upper forearm and then fluidly rolled his index finger closer to his wrist and indicated the area there. It only took ten seconds longer to work through the rest of the choreography and then he was spinning on one foot to face the line of six other members, showing his back to the camera. He held the position for several second later, chest heaving deep breaths from the strain of going as hard as he could for the final run.
“And cut! Thank you for your hard work!” The director said into the loudspeaker. Bangtan collectively let the tension ease out of their bodies, breathing harder more freely, Namjoon and Jimin bending to let their weary bodies have a bit of a break.
“Thank you for your hard work!” Hoseok called, Taehyung and Seokjin echoed. Assistants hurried on set, delivering bottles of cold water and several towels. The members took them with a small bow and began blotting away the sweat on their foreheads.
Taehyung gulped almost half his water bottle down without stopping, so Yoongi slapped the back of his head, shooting him a warning glare that everyone had come to interpret as Yoongi’s look of quiet concern. Taehyung huffed a little laugh, “I’ll drink slower.”
“Yah, Taehyungie, don’t make yourself throw up!” Jimin called from behind a wall of members. He made his way to his same age friend with a towel pressed to his neck to mop up the sweat dripping down from his frizzy, bleached hair.
“You looked really cool today, Jiminnie,” Taehyung said and offered a good-natured slap to Jimin’s shoulder.
“I keep feeling my jacket slip off my shoulder. It won’t stay up.”
“Oh yeah, like you don’t do it on purpose to make ARMY go crazy?” Taehyung scoffs.
Jimin giggles, pitching forward into Taehyung’s chest, “Yah! I really don’t! My arm just falls too much when I kneel. I open my side up!”
Taehyung has to grasp Jimin’s arms so he doesn’t fall while he’s too busy laughing. It’s infectious, soon Taehyung is giggling along with him. Namjoon speaks up over the conversations that have broken out amongst the members, “Alright, let’s go get changed and head back to the dorms. We have to film for Run in about two hours and then we have to get to bed so we can catch the flight to Macau tomorrow.”
The group groans in assent, and Jungkook and Seokjin become engaged in bickering before Jungkook sprints towards the dressing rooms, the elder hot on his tail. Taehyung can hear Yoongi grouch after them, asking why he signed up to live with two five year olds. Hoseok cackles beside him, putting a placating hand on his shoulder.
Upon arrival to the dressing room, there are more people than Taehyung can count, but it’s oddly familiar. There are at least four cameras positioned throughout the room, stylist noonas- one for each member, and makeup noonas- almost one for every member. Managers sit in chairs around the edge of the room, tapping on their phones, confirming schedules. Jin and Jungkook have been captured by one of the camera-noonas, still easily bickering with each other while they get taped. Yonogi is free of his sweaty jacket and is patiently letting his stylist wipe the makeup off of his face. Hoseok is getting untangled from his mic pack across the room with Namjoon next to him dangerously attempting to unwind himself alone.
Taehyung feels Jimin pop up behind him and rest his chin on Taehyung’s shoulder. “Whacha lookin’ at Tae?”
Taehyung catches himself staring and blinks. He’s been holding Jimin up in the doorway. “Huh? Oh, just watchin’. Sorry.” He moves further in and lets Jimin head over to where Hoseok and Namjoon are. Taehyung wanders over to the oldest and youngest and slips into the interview easily.
From across the room, Yoongi slides through a review for a professional grade beat mixer. His stylist pins his bangs back and off of his forehead so she can wipe the sweaty foundation off of his skin and apply moisturizer. They don’t speak, mostly out of Yoongi’s habit for staying silent when he’s unprompted. Eventually, Hoseok’s voice grows louder and he plops his dance heavy body in the makeup chair next to him. Yoongi spares him a glance and notices his sweater is off, leaving the younger in a damp white t-shirt.
Still, Yoongi is silent. Like he said- or rather didn’t say- he stays silent if he has the opportunity to. Hoseok is silent too, replying to a message on his phone. Yoongi feels comfortable in the silence. Hoseok didn’t show this side to the fans very often- his quiet, introspective side. He was always a fully energized mood maker on scripted screen, but when he wasn’t in front of the cameras and left alone, he was pretty quiet. Yoongi had shared the comfort he finds in this interaction with the fans before. Even though Hoseok was quiet, Yoongi could still practically feel positivity roll off of him. It was like sitting on a wireless charger- just being close was enough to transfer power.
Yoongi glanced into the mirror and surveyed the room. Jin was getting undressed, Namjoon was waiting for a makeup chair on the couch, a handheld fan trained on his face, and Jungkook was joking with Taehyung in front of a camera. Jimin walked over and sat next to Namjoon with a fan on his neck, slouching so he could rest his head on the back cushion. Satisfied that he had a mental update on where the members were located, he went back to reading reviews on his phone, dozing off not a minute later.
The recording for Run went by smoothly, albeit, longly. They started by playing last century’s variety show games and eventually got to sleep for thirty minutes on inflated bean bags. What a reprieve, Jungkook thought. The task was repeating in his mind along with the quickly fading lyrics to the children’s song, but when he tried to remember it, Yoongi scolded him and threatened to deduct a point from his team’s score, so he had no choice but to give in and sleep.
It was blissful, honestly.
Sometime after he had dozed off, he vaguely remembers rolling to the side and landing on the floor, but his tired mind couldn’t care to make heads or tails of the situation, so he slipped back out of consciousness to the sound of stifled laughter.
In the end, Team Glasses won the competition and Team Kim Seokjin had to carry out the punishment of wearing this episode’s outfits to the airport to Macau in the morning.
Hoseok wasn’t really bothered- he didn’t have to wear anything uncomfortable. The patterns- well- I mean, it wasn’t ideal but it wasn’t as bad as Jimin’s.
Listening to Yoongi’s endless mantra of how he was the God of Entertainment’s chosen host, was more torture, in his opinion. After a few minutes, he couldn’t help but smile, though. Yoongi was so cute when he boasted. He let his gummy smile show, and his hidden ceaseless need for praise was quite evident. Yoongi’s true inner child, Jimin liked to tease.
At the dorm, there was a strange mix of fatigue, excitement and calm. The air felt like this every night before they had a concert. Jimin poked his head into Seokjin’s room, “Hyung?”
“Hmm?” Seokjin was preparing his pet sugar glider’s dinner. “Did you want to feed Odengie?”
Jimin half leapt into the room, plopping gracefully next to the oldest and held out a finger for the food formula.
“Did you wash your hands?”
“Mhmm!”
Seokjin nodded and squeezed a dollop onto Jimin’s finger tip. “You can go ahead and take him out, then. Just be careful not to spook him.”
“Of course, you know me.” Jimin used his clean hand to reach into the felt house in the large white cage, “Odegnie, Eomukie~ Come here and let Jiminnie feed you.” Jimin clicked his tongue softly until he felt the tiny paws of one of the marsupials tentatively touch his finger. “There you go,” Jimin cooed. “Come to Jiminnie.” The small pet climbed into his palm and let Jimin extract him from the house.
“Hyung?”
“That’s Odeng.”
Jimin smiled, not convinced since the two animals literally looked identical, but went along with it since Seokjin spent more time with his pets than Jimin.
After Odeng lapped up his dinner and Jimin cooed at how adorable his little pink tongue was, he let the nocturnal animal crawl up his extended arm onto his shoulder. “Hyung, do we have any cold compresses left?”
Seokjin was slipping Eomuk into her hamster ball, “Like ice packs or medicine patches?”
“Either.”
“I think there’s one in the freezer, or where ever Jungkook left it last. And the patches were last in Namjoon’s room. He used them when he sprained his knee last month.”
“Wah, you mean he’s been injury free for a whole month?”
Jin sighed, snapping the lid of the ball in place, watching Eomuk take off for the other side of the room. “I doubt it, but that was the last injury I heard about. Yoongi uses ice packs, Hoseok and Jungkook both prefer their cream and spray. So Joon probably forgot to put the box back, if you can’t find them.”
“Ah, I didn’t look yet,” Jimin admitted. Jin shot him a questioning look.
“Why?”
“I wanted to ask before I looked for nothing,” Jimin smiled cheekily, knowing full well the kind of reaction that would get out of his hyung.
Seokjin’s eyes widened like they do when he’s about to launch into a long scolding monologue, “Yah! Why didn’t you go look yourself? Do you expect me to keep track of everything in this huge dorm? I know you think I’m your mom, but I’m a man with his own priorities! Aish, go bother Taehyung if you’re just here to use me, Park Jimin!”
Jimin bursts into full bodied laughter when Seokjin finishes, but thanks the eldest anyway and leaves to go downstairs. He heads for Namjoon’s room, thankful it’s empty. He spots the box of muscle patches on the white table tucked in the corner, a pair of dirty socks cast over it. Jimin snaches it and makes his way to his and Hoseok’s shared bathroom. He takes two out and layers them over his neck, patting them over the twinging muscle there.
He slips a huge tan sweatshirt on to hide the evidence and lays down on his bed, flipping his laptop open so he can continue the anime he was watching last night. He lays on his side and props himself up with his arm, watching in relative silence until Taehyung comes bounding in, jumping on the mattress behind Jimin.
“Chim!”
Jimin slaps a hand over the side of his head, “Ah, Taehyung that’s right in my ear!” God, his ear was ringing.
“Chim!!” Taehyung shouts louder, though he has the decency to shout into the air instead of directly into Jimin’s eardrum. He jostles Jimin playfully and Jimin is woefully reminded of how puppy-like Taehyung can be on the eve of a concert.
Taehyung shakes him so his whole body moves in a wave, head snapping back and forth and doing nothing to help his sore neck. “Taeeeee,” Jimin whines. “Stop shaking me!”
“But, Chim!”
“But, Tae? Whaat?”
Taehyung stops shaking him in favor of wrapping himself around Jimin like an octopus, “I love you, Diminnie!”
Jimin wriggles and shoves Taehyung’s shoulder, forcing him to fall onto the bed so Jimin can straddle him, “Yah! That was one time!” He raises his hands like claws before plunging them towards Taehyung, “Take it back!”
Taehyung giggles endlessly under him, fighting off Jimin’s hands, “You s-say it all the time when you’re drunk!”
Jimin roars and overpowers Taehyung, descending on the younger’s shoulders and neck with tickles, “Take it back, Kim Taehyung!”
Taehyung laughs so hard he nearly chokes on it, “Ji-jiminnie stop! I’m gonna pee!!”
“Not until you take it back!”
“Alright! Alright, I won’t call you D-Diminnie any more!” Jimin releases his friend from his playful torture and Taehyung has to wipe tears from the corners of his eyes. They both sprawl out on the bed and giggle out of breath, a high and airy sound.
Jimin reaches up to run his fingers over his neck, soothing away the little ache he feels there after being jostled.
“Mmm,” comes Taehyung’s deep hum. “Everything alright?”
Jimin self consciously removes his hand and slides his eyes over to Taehyung. He smiles, “Yeah.”
Taehyung lets his eyes roam over Jimin’s face before settling on his eyes. “You sure?”
Jimin shifts, restraining the urge to cover the patches on his neck. “Course, why?”
“I’m just wondering, Minnie. Your health is Bangtan’s health.”
“Yah,” Jimin punches Taehyung’s shoulder playfully, “The same applies to you. Shouldn’t you go to bed so we don’t have to send a manager in to drag you out of bed tomorrow?”
Taehyung punches him back, watching something like hurt or betrayal flicker briefly across Jimin’s face. “I’m sleeping on the plane! But what about you? Shouldn’t you be asleep by now? Watching shoujou anime doesn’t sound like sleeping to me.”
“It’s not shoujou...” Jimin mumbles, but the blush on his cheeks betray him. That and the flower petals paused mid wind-sweep on his laptop screen.
“Whatever, cheeseball. But I came in here to watch anime with you before we leave, so let’s watch something good.”
“Hmm,” Jimin rolls over and picks up his laptop, exiting to the search screen.
“My Hero Academia~” Taehyung interjects, patting his hands along Jimin’s spine. Jimin nods, typing it in the search bar.
“Ok, ok, get comfortable,” Jimin says, letting Taehyung lay down first so he can cuddle into his side and set the laptop on their legs. The intro monologue starts and Taehyung sighs happily, letting his fingers card through Jimin’s towel damp hair as Jimin situates himself so his head is on his pillow, and Taehyung’s arm in under his neck. It’s a little awkward laying on their sides curled so their legs act as suitable support for the computer, but Jimin figures it’s a good workout for his abdominal muscles to be kept taught.
About 5 episodes in, Jimin feels his eyes sliding shut, his body giving in and relaxing. He vaguely feels the laptop tip from his half of the leg table, but Taehyung’s dinnerplate-like hands catch it and hold it up. Then Jimin’s head hits the pillow, Taehyung’s arm still beneath his neck, curling so that his hand rests comfortably in Jimin’s now dry hair.
The managers fetch them at 4:40 am, which gave Jimin all of about 50 minutes of sleep. Thanks to the lack of sleep and hard schedule the day before, Jimin wakes up with a steady pounding behind his eyes.
He’s not really surprised, but it doesn’t make him hate everything less.
Taehyung hums beside him, tapping the spacebar to pause the 7th episode. He sucks a deep breath through his nose and releases it over Jimin’s head so that it ruffles his hair. Jimin echoes his feelings by grunting back. They’re both sleep heavy, feeling like a pile of dead limbs… but… a voice calls from in the hallway that the car was leaving in 15 minutes with or without them.
Jimin knew Taehyung had first hand experience with that, when of so many eras ago he tested the manager’s resolve and stayed in bed when their final call came.
Basically it had ended in an expensive second plane ticket Taehyung had to buy with his own credit card and the scolding of a lifetime from both managers and hyungs.
So Jimin dug his elbow into Taehyung’s side when he felt the younger start to relax again.
Taehyung jerked in response, whining with a groggy, throaty sound, and jostled Jimin right back in an awkward half-shove, which was barely manageable at this angle.
Jimin was about to shove back, when his body suddenly seized up, a flare of pain sending his muscles into an instant freeze. He draws in a quick breath of air that Taehyung hears as a sharp gasp, the feeling of Jimin’s taught muscles intensely real at direct contact.
“Chim?” he asks, trying his hardest not to move in fear that he might have just hurt his friend. “Are you ok?” For a few seconds the only response is Jimin’s suddenly measured breaths. Taehyung tries to turn to see what state Jimin is in but as soon as he moves even an inch, Jimin’s hand shoots up and seizes Taehyung’s arm, stopping him.
The gears in Taehyung’s sleepy mind stutter to life, “What hurts?” Jimin grunts, clutching Taehyung’s loose long sleeve shirt a little tighter.
“Jus… hold on.” So Taehyung does. He counts in his head and at 120 seconds, Jimin relaxes his death grip and starts to shift on his own. He sits up, hand bracing his nape and winces audibly when he’s vertical again.
Taehyung sits up with him, eyes on Jimin like a mother hawk, gauging his movements. Jimin sits with his eyes closed and breaths through his nose for the next few minutes. The manager yells the ten minute warning and Taehyung runs his hand along Jimin’s spine.
“Can I get you anything?” he asks in a low, calm voice. Bless his heart, Jimin thinks.
“Pain meds. The strongest you can find,” is the immediate reply.
Taehyung feels his body move in opposite directions. His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but his stomach sinks with worry. “I think Yoongi-hyung has medication in his bathroom.”
Jimin grabs Taehyung’s sleeve before he can rush off the bed. “No, don’t go upstairs. Actually, Hoseok-hyung has muscle relaxers in our bathroom from the last time he torqued his shoulder. Bring me two of those and water, please.”
Taehyung nods, running off now that he was let go. He finds the orange bottle with Hoseok’s full name on the white slip and pops the lid of to shake two white pills into his palm. He carries his items back to Jimin’s bed and finds his band mate up and throwing clothes into a suitcase without folding them. Taehyung visibly cringes and rushes over before any more of Jimin’s expensive clothes can get ruined with wrinkles.
“Here, Chim, take these and let me pack. Your clothes are going to get murdered.”
Jimin gulps the medicine down with the entire cup of water. “What about you? You need to pack too,” he sets the cup on his cluttered nightstand. “I can put clothes into a bag, Tae.”
“Minnie, I packed last night.” Jimin continues to rummage through his wall-length closet for comfortable clothing like he hadn’t heard Taehyung. “Aish, let me help you Jimin!” Taehyung stops Jimin by grabbing his arms and pressing them to his side. “Just rest for a second. I’ll get your toiletry bag. All you need to do is pack your carry on.”
Jimin lets Taehyung steer him back to his bed and plop him down before Taehyung busies himself by chastising Jimin’s carelessness with his clothes. He refolds them and places them in in the blue hard sided suitcase Jimin took with him to Norway. Then, Taehyung grabs the Gucci pouch slid alongside the Coach bag in Jimin’s closet and heads to the bathroom. Among Jimin’s normal toiletries that Taehyung knows from memory just by living so near Jimin for so long, he slips a bottle of Ibuprofen and muscle relaxers in and zips it all up. When he reenters the bedroom, Jimin’s just finishing with his carry on, slipping a box that looks suspiciously like moisturizer amongst his things.
“Why don’t you unwrap it to save space?”
Jimin hums in question. “The moisturizer you just put in there- why don’t you take it out of its box?”
“Oh! I don’t know, I didn’t really think about it.” He doesn't make a move to unzip it and unbox it, but Taehyung doesn't have the energy to care in his sleep deprived state. He extends the handle of Jimin’s suitcase and rolls it over to his friend, taking this chance to look at him again, up close.
“Alright?” he asks in reference to Jimin’s health. Jimin smiles the way Taehyung knows he smiles for fans when they ask if he’s been eating well. At first, Taehyung’s a little offended that Jimin would even try that on him, but the manager is suddenly standing in the door with a cross look on his face.
“Taehyung-ssi, have you even packed yet?” the exhaustion is clear in his eyes. They don’t want to be awake just as much as the boys don’t, but planes wait for no man- not even the cutest seven men (in Taehyung’s opinion). This badgering and exasperation are necessary to meet deadlines and schedules.
Taehyung walks ahead of Jimin, who wheels his luggage behind him. “I packed last night, don’t worry. I was just helping Jimin pick out an outfit.”
Jimin listens with quiet awe and thankfulness, his reaction thankfully dampened by the exhaustion and muscle relaxers. Taehyung had a way with words when it really mattered. On screen, when he fumbled over sentences, it was because his tongue couldn’t catch up with the many things his mind wanted to say. But, when the cameras were off, especially if he was in danger of getting scolded by hyungs for something he definitely did, his tongue turned as silver as the chain earrings he’d been favoring recently. Taehyung was a ceaselessly interesting and complex person, Jimin had come to realize in the past seven years. It almost made him want to hug Taehyung, but the pain radiating down his right side made even the idea of it enough to want to cry.
He followed Taehyung out of his room and into their large living room where the other members had gathered. Seokjin, Hoseok and his stylist walked through the door and Jimin laughed as the memory of yesterday’s defeat came back on his head. That ridiculous 70s era outfit was looming so innocently on the hanger like it hadn't caused Jimin to hold a personal grudge. No one is awake enough to tease team Kim Seokjin about their unfortunate airport attire, so the three take their respective hangers with an air of eerie silence and begrudging acceptance and change in the next room over, which happens to be Jungkook and Namjoon’s shared closet. Without thinking, Jimin takes his carry on with him while he changes.
Only when he raises his arm to try to take of his sweatshirt is he reminded of his current situation. The two medical patches have been on so long that they’re beginning to peel off. Serendipitously, Jimin remembers he had slipped the box of patches into his carry on while Taehyung was in the bathroom. Taking care to slip behind the row of black vetements, away from his hyung’s prying eyes, he replaces the medicine patches and takes a few minutes to massage his shoulder and neck, wincing at the tightness he finds. By now, the muscle relaxers were only starting to kick in. Hopefully, they would kick in and allow him to sleep and put up with the antics Jungkook and Seokjin were surely going to initiate later in the day.
Putting on the finishing touch- the awful brown corduroy hat- Jimin zips his carry on back up and pushes the thick black frames further up his nose. “Well, at least I don’t have to put on contacts today.”
“Lucky you,” Seokjin says, shouldering on his denim jacket. His voice is rough with a lack of sleep, but the annoyance is as clear as the mineral water Hoseok just drowned in one go.
Jimin reveals himself and the trio take one look at each other before promptly bursting into laughter. The sudden outburst of emotion lightens Jimin’s shoulders, though he’s not sure if he can blame it on the lurid patterns or the borderline insanity Bangtan was collectively feeling so early in the morning. Hoseok ends up rounding them up and pushing them back in to the living room where Yoongi is waiting looking like the undead.
Jimin saunters over and pats him on the shoulder, snickering at the way Yoongi cracks his eyes open and blinks slowly at him, murder and fatigue attempting to stab Jimin. “Manager-nim has coffee in the car, hyung. Just wait until then.” Yoongi mumbles what vaguely sound like a string of expletives, before he rises from the chair standing with the posture of a zombie.
Jungkook has to be woken up again from where he slumps over his half made bowl of cereal in the kitchen. Namjoon collects him and pours the soggy mess down the trash disposal, leaving the bowl for the cleaning staff that will come later in the day.
Jimin and Taehyung are surprisingly the first to exit, followed by an amoebus Yoongi and Seokjin, and then Namjoon and Hoseok who converse quietly, while funneling Jungkook forward.
In the van, the seven of them are handed their first cup of coffee for the day. Everyone has decaf aside from Yoongi, who says that he can fall asleep when he wants, regardless of how much caffeine he has raging through his veins. The ride is quiet as they make their way to Incheon airport, not a ray of sun on the horizon.
Arriving at departure comes at the same time the sun does. The early rays paint the sky a light blue, and Jimin steps out of the van with the rest of the team feeling much better than he did hours ago. The muscle relaxers had really done wonders on his neck and shoulders. When a staff member came up to the three RUN episode losers Jimin was ready to tackle the mandated publicity shots.
“Let’s do the pose,” Seokjin says while he pulls Hoseok and Jimin to his left. The other two sleepily comply. Jimin cracks a smile at the ridiculousness of it all as Hoseok cranks up his mood making role, seeping out even through his white medical mask. Hoseok crosses his arms over his chest and strikes a wide stance with his legs. On Jimin’s other side, Seokjin points a finger gun towards the camera, so Jimin turns sideways and does a combination of them both, crossing his arms and pointing a single finger gun with his hyung. The other members jeer at them, poking at their bad luck and lack of variety show skills. Taehyung and Jungkook mirror Jimin’s pose, making silly faces to try to break Jimin’s composure.
Before he knows it, Jimin is smiling like a loon, and there are flashes in front of him not unlike bolts of lighting as the cameras of both the staff and fansights go off. Thankfully, Jimin was able to keep him smile genuine throughout the ordeal due to the handful of ibuprofen he drank with his decaf vanilla latte in the car.
Hoseok straightens back out and tugs on the brim of Jimin’s hat, “Somehow you manage to look so cute in this, Minnie. I’m so jealous.”
Jimin smiles bashfully, “Hoseokie-hyung you look like a man in your outfit. Plus,” he pats the beanie on Hoseok’s head, “I’ve read so many tweets that compliment you when you push your hair back.”
Hoseok crosses his arms and scrunches his eyebrows cutely, “A peeled man, right? Ah, Jiminnie, am I sexy?” he does a slow body roll, making Jimin laugh. “Yaa~” Hoseok grinds lightly on Jimin and the younger boy giggles endlessly. Seokjin walks over and regards the scene, breaking his tired brood to smile.
“Yah, it’s too early in the morning to be this active,” he chides. Hoseok switches targets in response. Seokjin uses one hand to cover his mouth while he laughs heartily, and the other to slap Hoseok’s shoulder. Jimin looks on, laughing with his whole body like his mirth physically travels through his veins.
“Jimin, I blame you for this!” Seokjin squeaks, finally pushing the enthusiastic dancer off of him. Hoseok chuckles and scampers away to bother Yoongi who was quietly scrolling through his phone next to Namjoon. Jimin gently pats Seokjin’s shoulder, trying to placate his play-annoyance.
“Obviously, you brought it upon yourself when you walked over here. No one is safe when hyung starts body rolling. He’s a serial grinder.”
Seokjin snorts and covers his face in embarrassment, “Even I’m not that bad at jokes, Jimin-ah.” Jimin realizes his poor choice of words and feels the shame color his ears pink. Seokjin notices the color change too and points it out. Soon both of them have dissolved into giggles, and the stress of the looming concert preparation disappears with every happy bark.
The raucous attracts the attention of Taehyung, who had been entertaining a sleepy Jungkook all the while. “What bad joke did hyung make this time?” Seokjin slaps him.
“It wasn’t me! And my jokes aren’t that bad!”
Jimin catches his breath and uses Taehyung’s extra height as a support before he melts into a puddle of giggles. “S-serial grinder, haha, I said Hobi was a-” it was no use. Jimin couldn’t spit the sentence out. The amusement was contagious and Taehyung was chuckling himself while Seokjin replayed the poor-choice-of-words-situation to Taehyung.
“Oh my god, Jimin, I can’t believe you said that.” Jimin hadn’t recovered from the initial silliness of the sentence, but Taehyung’s comment really sent him over the edge. Soon, Jimin was gasping for air, holding his side.
“Holy shit, Jimin, calm down,” Taehyung said, literally holding Jimin up by his arms.
“N-no, I know. It’s just haha I think, pffff, I think I’m HAH, slap happy right now.”
“He’s descended into madness, my god,” Seokjin says, kissing his middle and forefinger before giving Jimin a farewell salute. “I’ll visit you in whatever insane asylum BigHit decides to put you in. It’s been nice knowing you, except for when you were a needy baby.”
“H-hey!” Jimin tries to say in his own defence, but he’s yet to escape his body’s own clutches.
“Jimin!” Taehyung says seriously. He grips Jimin’s shoulders and shakes him once, looking deeply in Jimin’s eyes, “Snap out of it! This isn’t you laughing! This is the hysteria!” he shakes him again, “Don’t go towards the light, Chim, you’re the only one I have to protect me from Jungkook!”
Jimin breaths like a man resurfacing from being underwater for too long, “I-I’m not gonna let Jungkookie get you, TaeTae.” his laughter tapers off, but his smile is still at full blast. Taehyung smile echoes Jimin’s mirth, he’s glad to see it instead of the obvious pain that was present this morning. Taehyung reaches out and pokes Jimin’s slightly crooked tooth. Jimin swats at him while pink dusts his cheeks. “Hey, don’t point it out, I’m self conscious about it.”
Taehyung pouts and Jimin matches him, trying to out puppy dog eye the other, until Seokjin whacks the both their heads, “Yah, you’re both way too dramatic for your own good.”
“Woah! This coming from the drama student?”
“Yeah! The Kim Seokjin? King of the lost and confused look in every music video?”
Seokjin’s mouth drops open in disbelief, “Excuse me? I am 10 times better at acting then both of you! That’s why they give me the brooding part in the videos. I can’t help it if you’re jealous. And for the record I feel very attacked by you two dongsaengs. Honestly I came out to have a good time and I feel so victimized. This is an outrage! The disrespect! How dare you do this to me after all the money I’ve spent on you and all the kindness I’ve shown you! Eomma, I know how you feel! Aish!”
Somewhere along the ranting, the pair of same age friends had dropped their laughing and folded their arms in unison to stare their hyung in the face. When Seokjin is done ranting, he looks at them, waiting for their apologizes. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
Taehyung glances at Jimin, who looks back with a knowing look. They simultaneously fix Seokjin with a one-eyebrow-raised look and wait for him to connect the dots.
“What? What!”
“Ah, hyungie, you’ll figure it out!” Jimin pats the eldest on the shoulder before skipping away towards the maknae, Taehyung in tow.
The seven of them pile onto the plane by about 8 am, bundled up in coats and scarves to combat the chilly fall morning and simultaneously pad them for the long flight.
Jimin brushes his bangs back in habit more than in usefulness, readjusts his corduroy hat and pushes his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose. He slips into the lush first class seating at the front of the plane and first extracts his phone charger, headphones and book out of his carry on. He sets them down on the little built in table area next to his seat and zips his bag back up.
Jungkook passes him on the way to his seat, already deaf to the world with his bluetooth headphones on. Jimin doesn’t consciously acknowledge it, but his stomach settles from the morning’s early anxiety. His neck had hurt when he tried to get up, and Jimin was worried it might be detrimental to Bangtan’s performance. Already on a tight schedule of contacting, collabing, producing, practicing, traveling, and performing, among other things, the last thing they needed was Jimin to slow them down, because Jimin wasn’t oblivious. He knew that the other members had some weird protective streak towards him, that whenever he so much as said ‘ow’ they would be on him like mother birds. Jimin knew he was cute, and he could work his pout to get what he wanted, but somewhere along the line, that had turned into a slight curse.
Since he had gotten his ache under control, though, Jimin felt his anxiety fizzle away into nothing. He wouldn’t be an obstacle if he could treat himself quietly and accurately, which is what he had proved to himself in the hours he had been awake today.
Jimin sits down in the reclining seat and gets his phone out to film a little video for twitter, making sure to maintain his cute yet sexy vibe as he records.
The flight attendants begin their in flight rounds, and Jimin settles in, a pleasant jelly like sleepiness settling over him. Everything’s gonna be just fine.
When Jimin wakes up, it’s because Namjoon is gently shaking his arm. Jimin picks his head up, blinking the sleep out of his eyes as he takes a few seconds to register where he is and what’s happening. Namjoon answers for him, seeing his sleep-caused confusion, “We just landed. C’mon we’re getting off.”
Jimin voice catches on his dry throat as he tries to hum in reply. He reaches for his water bottle and takes a long drink. Tilting his head back to pour the water sends little sparks of pain down the nerves in his neck, but they’re dull. He manages to swallow without any trouble, but returning his head to its normal position is like trying to move a rusty kickstand. Jimin feels like he needs oil. The process is just slow enough to catch Taehyung’s eye, who has been watching Jimin wake up since the plane landed.
A lot of what they script for Taehyung doesn’t really allow him to demonstrate his observation skills. Especially when another member’s health is concerned, Taehyung finds himself watching them, trying to gauge their discomfort when they’re silent. The way Jimin was sleeping- it didn’t betray the pain he was in just hours ago- but Jimin held his head at an angle that was off kilter just a degree more than normal. Like he was unconsciously keeping his head from relaxing as far as it could. When he woke up, he saw the way Jimin’s body hitched and stopped as he listened to Namjoon.
After Jimin got done drinking water, the process to lower his head almost made Taehyung lurch forward in his seat. It was slow- slower than a newly awoken person would go at. It was the speed Taehyung would label as painful. He wanted to get to Jimin’s side as quick as possible, but he stayed back because he remembered this morning when Jimin asked him not to go get Yoongi’s pain medicine. Obviously, Jimin was trying to keep this as low key as possible. Taehyung knew Jimin had a weird pet peeve of being helped when he was sick.
But, Taehyung also knew Jimin was smarter than letting an injury get bad enough that it would be a detriment to his live performance. So he stayed in his seat and watched over Jimin from a far. When they were at the hotel, he decided, he would ask Jimin how he felt there and hopefully they could come up with a plan. If Namjoon and the managers needed to know, Taehyung would stand with Jimin, if it was fixable with a massage and a hot shower, well Taehyung was there for that too.
As the group makes their way to the baggage claim, bypassing hordes of fans screaming in the open airport through roped-off routes, Jungkook comes up behind Jimin and pokes the pair of sunglasses perched on his hair so they fall onto Jimin’s nose. Jimin shoots him a halfhearted ‘yah’ before shading his eyes and keeping them on.
Jungkook snickered despite his hyung’s small chastisement. He took one earbud out of his ear and slipped it into Jimin’s and turned the volume of his phone up.
Jimin hummed after a few seconds, “Is this what you have so far?” He was referencing the sweet and clear vocals lilting through his ear right now, the sounds of Jungkook’s latest cover he was preparing for ARMY. Jungkook nodded and watched Jimin, trying to gauge his reaction. He expected wide smiles and a hair ruffle maybe, a bout of big brother love and compliments, but Jimin kept his eyes on his phone, scrolling through an online article. He was practically frowning at the screen.
Or was it his voice?
“Jimin-hyung?”
Jimin answered with a little distracted noise in the back of his throat. Jungkook inwardly panicked a little. He usually got compliments freely from Jimin, usually at the slightest puppy eyes Jimin showered him with warm words. Jungkook also idolized Jimin for his ability to hit high notes and make it sound heavenly. This cover had a few notes Jungkook had been uncertain about, rerecording them at least 10 times before he felt like he was settling on the best he could do. But he knew he could do better. Usually, when he was in a crisis like this, he would ask Jimin for advice and the older would smile and say “Jungkookie, it’s all in your head. You have the most beautiful voice in Bangtan, just relax your throat and sing.” Even if Jungkook didn’t believe he had the best voice, it did the job and settled his heart to know he made his hyung proud.
Jungkook swallowed and took his earbud back and fell behind Jimin. He clicked on a different song, the original of his cover, and listened to it. As the singer hit his high notes, Jungkook felt a static buzzing in his gut. Jealousy? No, disappointment.
Taehyung unzipped his carry on and snatched a vacuum sealed package of shrimp chips. He popped them open and crunched on a few. He batted Jungkook’s searching hands away from his only bag. “Hands off, these are all I’ve had today.”
Jungkook whined. “Why does everyone hate me?” he mumbled under his breath. Taehyung stuck his tongue out and kept his hand shoved in the bag of junk food to protect them. Eventually, Jungkook gave up with a huff of air and crammed his earbuds in.
Taehyung smirked and licked the salt off his lips before sucking the flavoring off his fingers. Currently, Bangtan was seated in a waiting area tucked away in Macau’s airport (he didn’t remember the name of the airport, to be frank he didn’t really look at the ticket, just the seat number). They were waiting for their hotel transportation to arrive and for each piece of their luggage to be accounted for. Why the members had to sit and wait for the suitcases to be counted when they could be unwinding in the hotel or practicing in the concert venue was beyond Taehyung, but he found he questioned it less the longer he was an idol.
Namjoon’s head was starting to slide off its perch on his curled hand. The leader had his phone dangling precariously in his lap, but the screen had gone dark as Namjoon slipped back to sleep. Next to him, Hoseok was out cold. He was starting to tilt sideways towards Yoongi, and the older member seemed unbothered. As Taehyung observed them, in fact, Yoongi snuck a hand over and tugged Hoseok until his head rested on his shoulder. Hoseok sighed and visibly relaxed, nuzzling into the soft fabric of Yoongi’s black sweatshirt. Taehyung watched Yoongi’s lips curve into something fond, quiet and content, just like Yoongi himself.
It was cute, the rap line, famous for their powerful hip-hop stage presence, to the other Bangtan members they were just a soft pile of puppies. They wouldn’t hurt a fly (Hoseok would be too scared to even get close enough to one).
Jin was nowhere in the room, which meant one of two things. He went to the bathroom or he went in search of food despite the managers asking him to stay put.
Jimin was sitting on Taehyung’s other side, nose in a book. He had his sunglasses down, which meant he had a headache, though Taehyung also remembered watching Jungkook push them down Jimin’s face earlier. Either way.
“Hey,” Taehyung said, nudging Jimin with his elbow. He held the bag of shrimp chips out, “Want some?” Jimin put his finger on the page before glancing at the bag.
“No thanks.”
“Have you eaten today?”
Jimin looked back at his book, “I had a granola bar on the plane.”
Taehyung frowned. It was 2 o’clock here, an hour earlier than back home, and the group had been up for 10 hours already. Jimin needed more than just a granola bar to get him through the day. “Why don’t you just take a few?”
“Tae-ah, I can’t eat fried or processed food, I’m on a diet, remember? Chicken breast and rice only.” Jimin’s voice was clipped with agitation. Taehyung swallowed down his frustration. Jimin’s diets were ridiculous and mostly self inflicted.
He took the bag of junk food back and resettled in his seat. A beat passed between them, Jimin turned his page. Namjoon’s head slipped off his hand, but he stayed asleep.
“How are you feeling?” Taehyung asked without looking over. Jimin wouldn’t be looking anyway.
“Fine, just tired” Jimin answered quietly. Not mumbled, to Taehyung’s ears it was almost like it was weak. Like Jimin didn’t have the resolve to believe his own statement.
Taehyung felt a spark of something along the lines that he could get through to Jimin if he kept prying. Something like a fox with his nose down a rabbit hole, but without the violent end.
“Headache?” Taehyung glanced at Jimin out of the corner of his eyes, head resting on the back of his chair so he could do it inconspicuously. Jimin pushed his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose. Taehyung hummed, pulling his Gucci carry on off the ground next to his feet by it’s corner. “Here,” he said, offering Jimin a small bottle of Ibuprofen.
Jimin regarded the bottle quietly. He licked his lips and frowned, betraying he wasn’t sure he wanted to take it or not. “Just take two, Minnie. You’ll feel better.” Jimin sighed and relented, holding his hand out for Taehyung to give him the medicine. He swallowed them dry.
“Thank you, Tae-ah.”
After Taehyung set his things down, he settled back and snaked an arm around Jimin’s back, hand gently prodding at Jimin’s neck. When the older didn’t flinch, Taehyung pressed on, massaging the tightness he found there. Jimin practically melted as the minutes rolled on. On his other side, Jungkook’s chin was resting on his chest where he let his head fall. His arms were crossed firmly over his chest, probably more to retain body heat than to look like a tough guy in his sleep. Across from him, Namjoon and Hoseok still slumbered, and Yoongi tirelessly scrolled through his phone, either reading the world news or reviews for music equipment. Seokjin quietly wandered back in, a bowl of steaming ramen in hand, and sat down next to Yoongi. He whipped a pair of personal chopsticks out of his carry on and peeled the plastic covering off the top of the noodles. Yoongi largely ignored him until Jin offered him some of his snack. Yoongi opened his mouth and accepted the noodles fed to him, and Taehyung could see the care in the pair’s movements. The careful, yet parental way Seokjin made sure he blew on the noodles and none of the sauce got on Yoongi. And the little nod and fond smile Yoongi gave as thanks.
It was little gestures like this that really defined the love each member of Bangtan felt for each other. The quiet, fundamental gestures that spoke of a bond deeper than some siblings felt.
Taehyung rolled his thumb in increasingly wider circles before pushing in a repeated pattern on Jimin’s neck until he felt the vibrations as the other groaned quietly. Jimin’s book fell closed with the bookmark between the pages and Jimin surrendered to the care. Taehyung’s chest bloomed with warm affection. “There you go, Jiminnie,” he whispered softly, just loud enough for the two of them to hear. He continued to speak quietly, making sure to slip in little affirmations and praises here and there to really make Jimin turn into jelly.
The managers came in minutes later, notifying them that the car to the hotel was here, but they would have to stop at the concert venue to having a meeting before they were free for the night.
Taehyung patted Jimin’s shoulders before standing up to stretch and pop his back. The hyung line did the same. Taehyung leaned over and shook Jungkook awake. Jin cooed at his bleary eyes from across the room. Jungkook smiled sweetly, the way he always did when he was glad to be the center of hyung-doting. He looked like a massive dork with that lopsided grin, but he was cuter than any bunny Taehyung had ever seen, so he let it slide.
Jimin stood on his other side, his hand rubbing back and forth on his shoulder. Taehyung noticed. “Is your shoulder bothering you too?” Jimin grimaced and nodded slightly.
“My arm was asleep and now I have pins and needles all over. I don’t know, it feels like-”
“Feels like what?” Taehyung asked Jimin, whose mouth was hanging slightly open. His mouth quickly snapped shut and he gritted his teeth, sucking in a quick breath between them. “What is it?” Taehyung whispered.
Jimin opened and closed his mouth like a fish, trying to stretch it and his neck muscles. “I think my neck just cramped a little.”
To be quite honest, Taehyung wasn't sure what a spasmy neck encompassed, but from the way Jimin was grimacing, it must not be pleasant. Taehyung floundered for a moment. Should he tell the manager? Namjoon? Or could they handle it themselves?
The five other boys were all moving around the small waiting area just as Taehyung came to his decision.
Jimin slipped his book into his carry on and left a hand on his nape before standing to join the rest. He surveyed the room and tried to keep his expression as neutral as he could. Namjoon was groggily rubbing his eyes, Hoseok was poking Jungkook in the side in an attempt to get him to smile (it was working), Jin was resting his head on Yoongi’s shoulder, which was quite the awkward angle for their respective heights.
Taehyung was beside him, gathering his things. Jimin’s eyes slipped over and watched the movements curiously. Jimin’s stomach growled. He pressed a hand to it, morosely. Taehyung straightened back up.
“Hungry? Hyung-ry?” he snickered. Jimin cracked a smile at the bad joke.
“Word play in English too?”
Taehyung shot him finger guns “You know it.” The pain in Jimin’s neck seemed to abate as Taehyung’s bad jokes let humor leak into his mind. He swung the carry on strap over one shoulder and kept the grimace from surfacing. All he had to do was make it through the car ride and the concert meeting, then he could go relax at the hotel. Take a long, hot bath, eat, and sleep.
The pins and needles sensation seemed to dissipate the longer Jimin stood. As a personal habit more than anything, Jimin tapped out a rhythm on his thigh with his fingers, counting the beat of Not Today’s choreo. He could imagine the quick four-count steps in his head. Luckily, the movement in his arm seemed to clear the niggling sensation completely.
On the side not occupied by Taehyung, Jimin felt an arm lace through his and hold his bicep. A second later, a cold nose nuzzled into the crook of his neck and stayed there.
“You don’t help your case when you actually act like a rabbit, Jungkook.”
Jungkook snorted. Jimin felt his breath burst over his skin from the force of it. It made Jimin smile fondly. “‘M not a rabbit. I’m a muscle bunny.”
Jimin tilted his head a little lower to smile fondly at the maknae, “You should capitalize on that. ‘Muscle bunny,’ I bet you could get that to sell. Maybe Kakaotalk would sponsor you?”
“Hmm,” Jungkook mumbled. He sniffed out of habit, and Jimin watched his nose twitch adorably.
The sliding doors reopened and the main manager walked in with his phone in his hand. “Alright, the car is out front. There’s a crowd outside the receiving gate, but the airport security has informed me there is a path laid for you to pass safely.” Yoongi snorted from the seat he had retaken.
“Just make sure hyung doesn’t get caught up giving everyone personal aegyo, I want to get back to the hotel before midnight.”
Seokjin rounded on the next oldest and lightly smacked the back of his head, “I know you’re jealous that your mixtape hasn’t gotten as much attention as my face has, but we all must pick our battles Min Yoongi-ssi.”
Taehyung let out a low, “Ohhh, burn, hyung. I think I remembered my aloe face mask, you can borrow it.” And then the rest of the band dissolved into giggles, aside from Namjoon, who rolled his eyes so hard he had to massage them after.
Regardless, Seokjin helped Yoongi up and the two followed the manager and body guards out. They didn’t say anything, but they often didn’t. They more so enjoyed each other’s constant and quiet presence than talking. Jimin watched before rubbing Jungkook’s waist, coaxing the youngest into consciousness so they could start walking. “Appearances, Jungkook,” Jimin reminded. Jungkook grunted, but raised his head anyway. Hoseok and Namjoon walked out next. Taehyung was headed towards the door, but paused when he reached them.
“Come on, slow-pokes. Or I’ll tell ARMY to change your names to Snail-min and Jung-sloth.”
Jungkook made a disgusted noise from just behind Jimin. He thought he might have heard the youngest whisper, “Do it and I’ll post every unflattering selfie of you I can get my hands on.” Jimin couldn’t help but laugh.
“What’s with everyone today?” he asked when he reached Taehyung’s side.
“Whacha mean?”
“Everyone’s goal is to come after someone’s life. Like there must be a pre-concert tension or something.”
Jungkook spoke up behind the two of them, “That’s because the S in BTS stands for savage.”
“You saw that on Twitter.”
“Did not! It says so in our contract.”
Taehyung rolled his eyes, Jimin could feel it. He smiled fondly to himself. A moment later, Jungkook shoved his phone between them and displayed a picture of a contract with the words “BTS (Bangtan SAVAGE) is South Korean Boy Band that is comprised of-” on the screen. Clearly the ‘sonyeondan’ had been scribbled over by the pen feature on his Samsung.
“You’re a fucking menace,” Taehyung said, completely joking. Jimin’s body twisted as he chuckled and squeaked at the highest point in his laugh. Jungkook smirked and screenshot his creation. He sunk back behind them as Taehyung mumbled to himself about the audacity of ‘kids these days,’ in other words- letting his 80 year old strawberry farmer alter ego escape.
Jimin felt his pocket buzz, which must have been Jungkook sending the photo to the groupchat.
The team piled into a black van, dispersing in order of who got there first. Since the three youngest got there last, they had to shuffle past everyone into the third row seating. Taehyung, Jimin and then Jungkook last. Namjoon announced the plans the manager had passed on to him and the team settled into the relative silence while the ride commenced. Jungkook looked less sulky than before, Jimin noticed.
He was leaning against the window, watching the busy streets teeming with evening life stream past. He had his headphones jammed into his ears, of course. Jimin leaned over and plucked one free. “Is this your cover?” Jimin asked.
Jungkook startled. He popped up and watched Jimin, “Y..yeah.” Jimin closed his eyes and listened. Jungkook’s voice was honey, really Jimin could hear how much he had improved from all his practice.
“Is this the final version?” Jungkook shook his head. “Hmm, it sounds really good Kook-ah.” Jimin offered him a bright grin. He watched Jungkook preen at the compliment, albeit silently, just in the way his eyes widened and his lips parted silently. Like a god damn puppy. Jimin snickered. “Cute,” he said, giving Jungkook back his earbud.
Jimin settled back in his seat, revelling in the silent car. Hoseok had since drifted back to sleep, leaning on Jin’s shoulder. Taehyung was scrolling through his phone, one hand absentmindedly laying on top of Jimin’s knee. The added weight was nice. Jimin closed his eyes and lost himself to his syrupy, drowsy thoughts.
When was the last time I had a full eight hours of sleep?
The warm air that settled over him in the car was extremely fatiguing, lulling him towards acquiring more hours, or perhaps just to escape the steadily growing buzz of pain that originated from the junction between his neck and shoulder and ran like a busy highway down his arm.
The familiar aching fatigue that came from too many days of running on only four hours or less of sleep ran through Jimin’s veins like thick mud. Suddenly, his limbs felt heavier, his fingers tingle, but his mind couldn’t keep itself focused on the feeling. It felt as though it was wading through a thick fog, only grasping little glimpses of where the sensations were coming from and if they were important.
Jimin’s eyelids felt heavy, slipping closed with each blink and opening less and less far apart when Jimin managed to get them open. He straightened his spine and adjusted in his seat, his head tilted back to rest on the faux leather, letting the knots of muscles in his neck stretch out.
Before he officially slips from consciousness, he feels Taehyung’s hand begin running along the top of his thigh.
Something is incredibly off when Jimin wakes. He nearly cries out as he slips back into consciousness.The breath slips out of his lungs when he feels an acute throb, pulsing in time with his heart- or maybe on its own, right where he had only felt a dull pain before. In the little time Jimin had had to take a nap- it only felt like the blink of an eye, the pain had increased nearly tenfold.
The car is still rolling down the road because in the next moment, two wheels clamber over a pothole and jostle Jimin in his seat, causing him to cry out.
Taehyung is the first to move, hand coming from Jimin’s thigh to his shoulder. His voice is low next to Jimin’s ear, cutting through his near panting- when did he starting panting? “Minnie?”
The car jostles and Jimin has to bite down on his lips to reduce his cry to a whimper. Another hand is pressing lightly on his knee, squeezing to get his attention. “Jimin-ah, what’s wrong?” Hoseok’s voice bubbles up through the haze. In a moment of clarity, Jimin can tell that the silence of the car has changed from one of relaxed and lazy to electrically charged. He can’t see them but he knows all the eyes of his members are on him.
True to the curse that has apparently been cast over him, the car rolls over another rough patch in the road and suddenly Jimin is seeing purple and black in his vision, dotting in front of him even when his eyes squeeze shut. Pain followed closely by fear lace through him like a lightning bolt. He distantly registers a loud whirring in his ears followed by a hyperawreness of his heartbeat slamming in his ribcage, sending pulses up his neck and down his arm. There’s a wave of pulses that turn in to physical contractions that roll through up his neck to his jaw and he clenches it shut, tenses up completely to try to stop his body from jerking.
He’s locked up in his seat, tucked between of the back row, thinking this is how he dies, this is seriously how it ends. His throat feels like it’s closing up, slowly constricting when his muscles spasm in long columns on either side of his windpipe and worst of all, by his spine.
“-min! Breathe!”
A voice cuts through the blood in his ears. Jimin surfaces, but it feels like the route to his lungs has been cut off. He’s terrified to take a breath, so he doesn’t. He holds his throat closed and plunges back below the pain, lost to the turmoil his body was thrown into.
Hands jostle him, two or three, maybe even four, Jimin can’t tell. Big, warm points on his body, on his back, trying to pry Jimin’s away from the death grip he has on the back of his own neck.
“Jiminie, please tell me what’s wrong. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”
Jimin whimpers in reply. He fights the foreign hand that had taken his away from his neck, trying to resteady the pulsing muscles by clamping down on them.
“Taehyung, keep that away from his neck, he’s going to hurt himself.” A bigger hand wrapped around his wrist and tugged the hand towards them- Taehyung his addled brain worked together. A smaller hand lightly touched the sweaty strands of hair on the back of his head and pet gently.
“Jimin, can you hear me?”
Jimin moaned pathetically, loudly, like he was about to break into sobs.
“Hey, don’t cry, it’s alright.” Jimin felt tears rolling down his cheeks, dripping off his jaw. A thumb ran gently under his eyes and cleared away the tear tracks. “What’s wrong, Minnie? Something hurts?” Jimin was just about to nod in response, because yes something hurts, his entire body hurt, he was dying, but his neck was still in a state of disarray, so he paused mid action and instead let a sob push out, almost painful with the amount of breath it carried with it. Another followed quickly behind until Jimin fell apart as best as his body allowed.
“What’s wrong, Hoseok?”
“He didn’t say.”
“How far are we from the hotel? We’re not taking him to the meeting. He needs to go lie down until we can find a private hospital.”
“The hotel is eight minutes away, just keep talking to him. Jungkook, are you okay?”
“Yeah, Namjoon-hyung, I was just startled by the scream.”
Taehyung’s thumb passed in circles over the warm skin of Jimin’s hand. He murmured reassurances to Jimin while Hoseok waited for Yoongi to pass him his bottle of advil and a water bottle. Jimin heard the rattle of the pills and then felt Hoseok’s hand back on his knee.
“Jimin, you don’t have to look at me, but I need to know if you can take pain pills. Have you taken anything else today?” Jimin sucked in a broken breath. Taehyung squeezed his hand reassuringly before clearing his throat.
“I gave him two muscle relaxers this morning, and an ibuprofen in the waiting room. He hasn’t really said anything, but he was favoring his right side this morning before we left the dorm.”
Hoseok hums, patting Jimin’s knee. “I don’t feel safe giving him this then. Yoongi?”
Jimin can hear his thumbs swiping up the screen of his phone, “He can have one. This says you can give him at least 4 doses of ibuprofen after giving him muscle relaxers. It sounds like he’s only had 2 doses at most today.”
Hoseok’s hand returns and he speaks to Jimin as if he hadn’t just been listening to the whole conversation. “Hey, Jimin-ah, do you think you could take this for me? It’ll make you feel better, at least until we get back to the hotel and get you lying down, okay?” He brushes his index finger along Jimin’s still damp cheek, coming to a rest on his lips, where he taps twice. “Here,” with a quick shake of his hand, he grips the pill between his thumb, index and middle finger before depositing it between Jimin’s slightly parted lips. “Here’s water too. Wash it down so it doesn’t get stuck.”
Jimin tries, he really does. He feels the plastic rim press to his bottom lip and Hoseok tilts it a little and Jimin feels the cool water flow into his mouth, but the moment he tries to swallow, his neck throws itself into another fit of spasms and Jimin nearly chokes on the water and pill. They come spilling out, and Jimin coughs, reeling at how painful every movement is, dizzy from the burst of light behind his eyelids.
“Ah, ah, Yoongi, can you-?”
Jimin feels miserable. There’s definitely three sets of hands on him now, Taehyung’s, Hoseok’s, and now, probably Yoongi’s. Napkins dab at Jimin’s chest, hands rub soothing circles into his skin, voices coo at him. He feels like a child and it makes the tears spill out of his eyes faster, like a steady dripping faucet.
“Jiminie, do you want to try again?” Taehyung asks after Hoseok and Yoongi finish drying him off. Jimin tries to shake his head but fails just as quick as he starts, so he settles for the first pitiful whine that escapes his throat. He manages at least to make it sound like “no.”
“We’re almost there,” Jin’s voice says from the row ahead of Jimin.
Jimin keeps his body as tense as possible for the rest of the ride, trying to breathe.
In
Out
In
Out
Taehyung’s hand keeps Jimin’s in his lap. He’s switched from simply wrapping his around Jimin’s to lacing their fingers together. He drops his other shoulder so it comes to rest under Jimin’s armpit just slight enough that it braces him and eases some of the pressure on his left side.
Ahead of him, Hoseok has turned around in his seat and is rhythmically stroking Jimin’s knee, repeating quiet reassurances, “Just hang on. Just a little longer.”
The chaos in Jimin’s mind swirls his thoughts together, but in the eye of the storm he keeps coming back to the same irrational part of his brain that tells him, they’re going to keep me from performing. This isn’t what I wanted. I’m a disappointment to Bangtan. The shame that burns in his gut adds to the roiling emotions brewing within him. Everything feels as though it’s tilting on its side the longer Jimin attempts to steady himself. Black dots pepper his vision just from the sheer force that he keeps his eyes closed.
He thinks he might hear Namjoon whisper to Jin, “-his neck.” The thought of getting found out makes Jimin’s gut twist angrily, disappointment and anger that he couldn’t control his small injury and now it was a burden for the whole team. Hot tears squeeze out and roll down his red cheeks. He wishes he could bow his head and hide himself, but the pain is too much.
“Hey, Minnie,” he hears Hoseok say, honey sweet, “It’s gonna be okay. Don’t cry, you’ll be alright.”
Despite the kind words, Jimin shoves them aside and replaces them with self deprecation. Some dark part of his mind tells him they’re lying. You haven’t put very much effort into preparations for this concert. This is the result of that. Stress wells up in Jimin’s chest, pushing out so it feels like his ribs are pressed tightly to the walls of his chest, ready to burst out. He feels panic quickly follow when his neck locks involuntarily. The situation is slipping out of his control. He feels entirely helpless.
A strangled noise escapes from between his lips and he can’t pull in enough air even though he’s panting, hyperventilating, inhaling as much as he possibly can. He feels the air in the car press in and cage him uncomfortably, irrational fear like a smothering blanket on top of it.
The car stops and suddenly Jungkook is moving from next to him, away, and someone else is slipping into his seat.
“Jimin, can you hear me?”
Jimin registers the question but the answer is lost in the haze.
“Yoongi... him... now,” he partially hears Jin whisper from the row in front of him. Namjoon is on the phone outside the van.
“Listen to me, Jimin-ah, it’s going to be okay, just take deep breaths. It’s a little scary, but your hyungs are right here. Take a deep breath. You’re safe.” Jimin lets it soak in. The words cause neurons to fire in his brain, panic connects with unneeded and calm connects with needed. Yoongi notices and continues, “Good. Just keep breathing. Jimin, do you know what day it is?” The question is easy, one Jimin knows he can answer.
Though his still frantic breaths he says, “Wednesday.”
Yoongi praises him, he can feel Taehyung’s hand squeeze his reassuringly. “That’s it, just take deep breaths. Jin-hyung is gonna help too, ok?” The seat begins to dip as if Yoongi is getting up. Jimin’s hand shoots out and latches onto the first piece of fabric he can find.
“Don’t. Don’t leave.”
Yoongi resettles, and takes Jimin’s hand away from his jacket and holds it. Seokjin hums in front of him.
“Jiminne, can you hear me?” Jimin manages to answer when he exhales. “Alright, I’m just going to help with breathing and getting you calmer, ok?”
“Uh huh.”
“Perfect, try to match my breathing. Like vocal lessons, fill your chest, not your stomach. Try it through your nose. Mhm, just like that.” He breathes much deeper than is needed to emphasize the importance to Jimin. Soon Jimin feels the panic ebbing, his chest loosens, his throat unconstricts.
“Jimin do you think you can tell me what’s wrong?”
Jungkook leans in from outside, “We can move inside and get to the rooms if you’d be more comfortable there.”
Taehyung hums on Jimin’s other side, “That sounds like a good idea. Let him relax in bed in comfier clothes.”
Jimin is grateful for the temporary distraction, the allotted time to collect himself and his thoughts before he needs to give an answer to Jin. What’s wrong? What is wrong? Why did he panic? His neck? The concert? Or something else? Jimin feels his mind begin to slip back into soupiness. Before he can lose himself again, Yoongi is tugging gently on his sleeve and leading him out of the back of the van.
He feels himself being pulled into someone’s side when his feet hit the pavement. He tucks himself into them, relishing their grounding stability.
The next thing he knows he’s being guided onto a plush bed. His shoes are taken off for him, someone is massaging his shoulders from behind, and his suitcase is being unzipped just off to the side.
“Jimin-hyung, do you want to change into your pajamas?” Jimin tries to shake his head, but his neck spasms in protest, the pain killer from the van acting as though it hadn’t taken effect at all.
Jimin sucks in a breath through his teeth and tenses up again, but his neck refuses to let up. It seizes and Jimin has to crane his neck to the side in order to keep his muscles from snapping like rubber bands. His neck squeezes harder and a burst of white tinted with red around the edges flashes before his eyes. Jimin collapses onto the bed, clutching his neck.
There’s a flurry of activity. Hands dart around him, smoothing down his arms, attempting to massage his neck. He thinks he hears the voice of their athletic trainer booming over the worried shouts of his members, but he’s not sure. A warm pad slips its way under his shoulder to press to his neck. The heat is a startling contrast to the pain that licks up his nerves, but it’s welcomed. Jimin almost cries in relief.
There’s a hand running in soothing circles on his back. The comfort does wonders, easing his stress. Slowly, his neck begins to loosen. His skin absorbs the warmth. Soon, Jimin feels calm enough to speak.
“I think I need to go to the doctor,” his voice cracks pitifully from disuse. He opens his eyes and focuses them on the carpet in the corner, blinking slowly until his vision clears of unshed tears. When he drags his gaze back to the small crowd of people in front of him, Namjoon is kneeling in front of him, next to their athletic trainer. He’s watching Jimin with his leader gaze- strong and confident, but there’s worry and compassion there to.
He places his hand on Jimin’s knee, “We found a private hospital. The car will be here in a few minutes.” Jimin offers a small smile as acknowledgement, but he can feel how horribly he fails at it. There’s so much tension in his body that his muscles are screaming at every use- no matter how menial. Namjoon is speaking to him, and then the trainer cuts in. Jimin listens and responds as best he can, but the effort is so draining. He feels exhaustion gripping him, and before he knows it, he feels his eyelids slipping shut and refusing to reopen.
He doesn’t remember the walk to the car. He doesn’t remember who helped him or if he even walked there on his own two feet. The car is in front of a very modern looking building, and the door opens to his side, and his manager is leaning in to help Jimin unbuckle himself. Jimin lets the events transpire at their own pace, letting himself be pulled along effortlessly. He’s really too tired to try to do it himself.
The pain in his neck has lowered into a dull, but constant throb and he finds if he keeps his head tilted so that it looks more like he’s holding a phone between his ear and shoulder, the pain subsides quite a bit.
Before he knows it, the manager is helping him into a seat in the waiting room and he tells him he’ll be right back, that he’s going to check him in at the nurse’s station.
He pulls his phone out of his jacket pocket- that awful outfit from the run episode (God why was it still on?) and opens the bangtan group chat. There are at least 20 notifications- most of them cute emoticons that throw hearts at him when he clicks them. The last message is from Yoongi who asks for Jimin to tell them when he gets there, if he can. Jimin feels his chest warm at the thoughtfulness of his brothers, and sends a thumbs up emoji followed by just got to the doctor. Jungkook is the first to respond, surprisingly, since he usually never participates in the group chat.
To Jimin From Kookie
Did they put you in a wheelchair?
To Jimin From Jinnie-hyung
Why would they put him in a wheelchair, he didn’t break a leg
To Jimin From Kookie
He couldn’t walk when he left!
To Jimin From TaeTae
Minnie if they put you in wheelchair, I will still love you, I promise <3
To Jimin From Kookie
If they put you in a wheelchair, please bring it back so I can push you around in it. We can have races in the dorm :)
To Jimin From Monie-hyung
No
To Jimin From Yoongi-hyung
Absolutely not
To Jimin From Hope-hyung
Also no, my bearbricks mean more to me that your happiness
To Jimin From Hope-hyung
Sorry, that was Yoongi-hyung. But still no
To Jimin From TaeTae
:(
To Jimin From Kookie
Why do I participate in this groupchat TT_TT
To Jimin From Jinnie-hyung
Let us know what the doctor says, Jimin-ah. Take it easy
Jimin smiles, reading over the instantaneous responses he got from his members. He typed a quick I will before exiting his chat and pulling up a webcomic. His manager came and sat down by him a minute later and told him there was only one person in front of him on the waiting list, so he should be seen pretty quickly. Jimin whispered thank you in the quiet room and the manager lightly patted his back, careful to avoid his neck.
“I’m sorry, Jimin-ssi, but you can’t participate. There’s a very real chance that you could aggravate your injury and possibly make it permanent. You’ll also be on strong muscle relaxers, which makes it dangerous to participate in the choreography. You could hurt yourself or another member. You’ll sit out and that’s final.”
Jimin feels like crying. Anguish swoops through his chest, a deep disappointment in himself and fear of letting down ARMY, who paid so much to come see him dance with the rest of BTS. It was shameful. He felt dirty and worthless. The athletic trainer must have noticed. His expression softened as he handed Jimin’s prescription bottle to him.
“I’m not saying you have to sit out the rest of the tour, Jimin-ssi. I’m just telling you you have to take a break tomorrow. Come on, you’re smarter than this. You know better than to jeopardize your health.”
Jimin bites his lip. The sting of his words were acute, but he also knew the truth underlying them. There was no reason why Jimin couldn’t sit out one concert. However, he couldn’t ignore the overwhelming sense that he would be letting ARMY down. It felt like poison in his veins. He chose this life to be a public figure, and that meant he had to please them. This was not doing so. Jimin swallowed the thought down as Namjoon entered the room, offering him a dimpled smile.
“How are you?” he asked, coming to put a strong hand on his shoulder.
Jimin cast his eyes to the floor, unable to handle the expectation in Namjoon’s eyes, the expectations in him to perform. “Fine,” Jimin replied flatly, mood souring. “I’ll be in the car.”
Namjoon watched him with a pinched expression. Jimin slipped through the door without another word. Turning back to the trainer, Namjoon waited patiently for answers.
“He’s not allowed to dance tomorrow. If he feels good enough during rehearsals, he can sing, but he cannot participate physically,” the trainer pinched the bridge of his nose, “We’ll just bring him a chair so he can be onstage still. I think he’d die if I told him to stay in the hotel.”
Namjoon snorted, “You’re right, seonsaengnim. I’ll make sure he takes it easy tonight so he can sing tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Namjoon-ssi. You’re a good leader.” Namjoon smiled, pleased with the compliment. He bowed to the trainer and turned to go find Jimin.
At the hotel, the remaining five members had gathered in the Namjoon’s room. Jimin was sleeping, heavily thanks to the pain medicine that the hospital had given him. Namjoon was taking the time to explain the situation to the rest of Bangtan.
“That really sucks,” Jungkook mumbled from his spot smooshed into the arm of the couch. He had his legs folded beside where Yoongi sat on the middle cushion.
Yoongi folded his arms and leaned back into the couch, a serious look on his face. “Even if he doesn’t want to, I don’t think it’s a good idea either. He doesn’t really know how to curb his enthusiasm- he goes at 120% all the time. I can easily see him hurting himself worse.”
Hoseok nods from his perch on the windowsill, “And it’ll be worse if he does that. He already stresses himself out when he makes a mistake when he’s healthy.”
“Exactly,” Namjoon reaffirms, “I’m sure he’ll refuse to completely sit out, and the doctor and the athletic trainer said he could sing if he feels ok enough to, but he cannot participate in choreo. So, we need to amp up our interaction on stage. Jimin will be there, he might be walking around or sitting, but we need to make sure we don’t ignore him.”
Jin hums, “He’s definitely going to be stressed and sad. It’ll be hard to hide in front of ARMY. We should interact with him and make sure he’s smiling.”
“We all know how much Jiminnie likes attention,” Taehyung gestures, pushing his thick prescription glasses up the bridge of his nose. The others make noises of agreement caught somewhere between exasperated and fond.
Namjoon pulls a folded stack of papers out of his back pocket and places them on the table. “Alright, so, where can alter choreo to involve him.”
The next day, Jimin is fiery and determined at the rehearsal. He practices his lines behind the stage, on stage waiting for his turn and takes extra care to hit the right notes when it’s his turn to perform Lie. He doesn’t get to perform the choreography he had practiced and grown attached to, so he waits in the corner of the stage, trying his best to stay positive. He pokes fun at Jin’s moves and teases Jungkook for his unkempt bedhead. His members play along with him, indulging his jokes so they can see him smile.
The rehearsal goes by without a hitch. By the end, everyone is smiling and laughing, even the staff.
Before the special sound check, when ARMY was allowed a preview of 3 songs, the athletic trainer pulls Jimin aside. They walk to the dressing room, which has mostly been emptied now that the members are prepped for the performance. When Jimin enters, Namjoon is pacing, mouthing lyrics to himself. However, when the two catch his attention, he flashes Jimin a smile and walks over to join them.
“How are you feeling, Jiminnie?”
Jimin nods, the previous twist of apprehension abated by Namjoon’s calming presence. The athletic trainer puts a hand on his shoulder and grabs Jimin’s attention. “You’ve sounded good today, so I’m fine with allowing you to sing, if you want to-”
“Yes!” Jimin blurts out. Then he catches himself, “Sorry.”
Both older men smile, “That’s alright. However, you must remember the condition. You have to sit in a chair on stage for the performance and if you feel another spasm attack, you must come tell me so I can fix the problem before it gets worse.”
Jimin feels disappointment wash over him, but Namjoon is quick to reassure him, “We won’t forget about you, Jiminnie. We’ll do the concert as Bangtan, just like always.”
The words lift Jimin’s spirits a little. There was still an underlying sense of self-directed shame, but he was trying to reconcile it with the fact that he would still be able to sing for ARMY, he would still be able to smile for them. That was enough to keep his chin up high enough to make it through the rest of the night.
It wasn’t perfect, and that bothered Jimin, because he was a perfectionist (he was working on that), but as Jimin exited the room with Namjoon’s hand on his back and met the rest of the members in hallway, he decided it was enough.
Taehyung slid up to stand directly beside Jimin, and dipped his head so he could whisper in Jimin’s ear. Seokjin and Yoongi both looked over their shoulders at Jimin as they neared the stage. The fans were already cheering, shouting their names at the top of their lungs. The seven of them could feel the energy of the audience. It was tiny compared to the total planned attendance, but it felt like these lucky hundred fans carried the energy of the universe with them. Jimin’s veins thrummed with nervous anticipation. He’s done this a thousand times- they all have- but that doesn’t stop his heart from beating faster when it gets close to its favorite thing.
Hoseok is calling to the members from near the entry point to the stage, “Don’t forget to count the steps to Not Today in the second chorus! If you don’t sync to the backup, it’s gonna look like shit!”
Everyone nods. Jungkook runs over the quick footwork sequence right there. Hoseok watches and nods, “Good!” Seokjin takes the chance to do the same steps, albeit at half a pace slower, and Hoseok watches him too. He calls out the beat count loud enough for him to hear and Seokjin follows. Hoseok grins when Jin looks up at him with expectant eyes. He nods enthusiastically, “You’ve been working hard, hyung!” Jin blows Hoseok a kiss and the latter breaks into a giggle fit.
Jimin watches with a smile on his face. He wants to do that choreography with his hyungs too, but he’s been told enough to just sit this one out that he knows it’s best to cooperate and take a break.
A staff member hurries up to the group of performers and tells them that they have 90 seconds. Taehyung goes over a vocal warmup for his high notes. Yoongi rolls his neck in a circle. Hoseok jumps in place, shaking his arms out. Another staff member taps Jimin’s shoulder.
“There’ll be a white chair front left in position E. Go out and get in place. You’ll be visible and out of the pyrotechnic range, don’t worry.”
Jimin nods, “Thank you so much.”
“Just take care of yourself, Jimin-ssi. None of us want to see you get hurt.”
Jimin assures him he’ll try his hardest to stay out of harm’s way. A minute has passed, the 30 second warning and quick reminders are coming in through their in ears. Namjoon rallies the group into a circle.
“Jimin-ah is hurt, so let’s cover the hole. He’ll be signing, so let’s be his backup dancers for today, alright?” The group snickers. “Seriously, though, focus everyone. This is only dress rehearsal, but ARMY are still here to see our best. Don’t hold anything back.” A resounding “You got it!” rises above the buzz of the staff around them.
Namjoon holds two fingers in the center of their huddle and takes one last look at each of his brothers. They hold their hands out, mirroring Namjoon’s, and wait for their leader’s next words, “Bangtan! Bangtan!” Words of trust, a promise to stick together and watch out for one another, the group replies, “Bang-Bangtan!”