Chapter Text
“Jimin-ah,” Namjoon’s voice is sweet, and it instantly takes Jimin away from his thoughts. “You are quiet,” Namjoon says, almost like he just noticed. But he hadn’t – he was looking right at Jimin from the start.
Jimin knows the underlying question Namjoon is asking, looking fondly at him like that.
Did you already know about this?
“I’m just surprised,” Jimin says, trying to be nonchalant about it and fighting with himself not to look over at Taehyung.
No, Namjoon. I didn’t know.
Taehyung had told Jimin that he had been feeling down recently: that’s honestly all Jimin knew.
Jimin started seeing Taehyung cry more frequently, even when sometimes he couldn’t even explain the motive behind his sadness. They started to talk less about silly things and more about the future, imagining having kids and leaving Seoul to get a farm or open a bar by the beach. Stuff that both of them knew was never going to happen either way and simply because neither of them had an actual dream like that. If Jimin had to think about the future, he liked to think about working more – working differently, sure, but still working in that industry somehow.
But Taehyung seemed to have changed his mind about the future. At first, Jimin didn’t think anything of it, because Taehyung is usually all over the place anyway, having three or four new hobbies every month.
It took Jimin a bit more time to notice how Taehyung was struggling to find the passion for writing or singing again. He wasn’t having the usual laughs in the recording studios and even less so when they were practicing new choreographies all together, as a group. When Jimin was able to catch him alone, Taehyung usually just wanted to stay in his bedroom playing video games or watching movies. He seemed to have lost the urge to get out and party or meet new people, the same one he was known to have when first starting his career.
Quickly, Jimin found himself using all the free time they had napping with Taehyung in fancy hotel rooms and going to small trips with him, but then ending up not really seeing anything around the town because Taehyung was always too tired or not in the mood. And the few times Jimin convinced Taehyung to go out to dinner with him and Jungkook, he physically saw his best friend slowly losing more and more energy throughout the night, in front of his own eyes. Almost like he was shutting down, quietly.
But even with all of that information, Jimin had no idea Taehyung was thinking about quitting.
It struck him like a lightning out of the blue.
The ultimate conversation was inevitable – Jimin was sure either Namjoon or Seokjin were close to start it, anyway, given some of the looks Jimin caught the two exchanging when Taehyung had no personal input in songs or dance moves like he used to. But they probably would have done it in the correct way, carefully and privately, so everybody could have the time to prepare and not be surprised and unsettled by it.
It starts when Taehyung comes home late one day, and completely misses the dinner they all planned for Seokjin’s birthday.
Seokjin laughs at Taehyung’s shocked expression at seeing them all gather up in the living room chatting. Taehyung stops in the middle of the hallway, looking at all of them while his mouth slowly falls open. “Oh well,” Seokjin gets up, faking an offended tone. “Someone clearly forgot my birthday here!”
“Oh my God, hyung,” Taehyung croaks, looking like he’s about to weep with his bottom lip visibly trembling. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
And okay, crying wasn’t that out of the ordinary for Taehyung – but Jimin immediately recognizes it as something else. It looks like a wave, starting to morph in the distance: it’s noticeable enough that he quickly glances at Jungkook to see if he’s noticing the same thing. But Jungkook is staring at his own hands in his lap, still as a rock.
And although Seokjin is a bit disappointed, there is no real reason Taehyung should cry about this. Seokjin had a great birthday and Taehyung is still in time for the ice cream cake Hoseok bought as a surprise. Everyone would have agreed that the cake was the best part anyway.
Namjoon smiles at Taehyung, who’s on the verge of tears. “I tried calling you to warn you,” he says, apologetic. “You didn’t answer.”
Taehyung doesn’t move; his head gradually tilts down, enough so he could comfortably stare at the ground and avoid everyone’s eyes on him, while tears start to fall and hit the floor under him. He looks like a kid who’s just been scolded and heavily grounded.
Jimin pats down a cushion near him, trying to help his friend out. “Come here, Tae. It’s alright.”
But Taehyung still doesn’t move, his eyes fixed on the floor.
Seokjin’s smile falters a bit, pondering what to say. “I’m not mad,” he makes sure to say first, even though everyone with a sane mind could have been able to see that. Seokjin could have never gotten mad over something like that. “I don’t care that much, don’t be silly. There’s no reason you should cry about this – sit with us, we still have to finish if you want to eat something.”
Taehyung doesn’t react, tears still hitting the floor while his whole body seems to fight the sobs coming from within.
Seokjin looks at the others, his widening eyes wandering in a panic between them but not focusing on anyone in particular.
Jimin decides to be the one to get up and help Seokjin – but as soon as he gets near him enough to reach over to touch Taehyung’s cheek, Taehyung completely breaks down crying. He lets himself be hugged by Jimin, his body going still in his arms and shaken only by his own irregular sobs.
“What’s going on? Why is he crying?”
Jimin isn’t sure who was asking – maybe Hoseok? But he distinctly hears Namjoon mumbling something back, to the others. But what could he say? As far as Jimin knows, no one knew what Taehyung had going on in his head, if there was even something more to it than just being tired and needing a break.
Jimin doesn’t even realize he started to cry as well, carefully whispering kind words into Taehyung’s ear, to his Taehyung, and gently rubbing his back hoping it could be enough to get his breathing back to normal, scared Taehyung could end up hyperventilating.
This could be a panic attack: the way Taehyung isn’t able to catch his breath enough even just to reply to him, the only noises coming out of him being small sobs and whines. Jimin knew the feeling well.
Jimin could have predicted this was going to happen: looking back, all the red flags were there, laid out for everybody to see. And if someone in the group should have noticed, it should have been him since he was the one spending the most time with Taehyung - it was clear as day how Taehyung just wasn’t the same anymore. Yet, no one cared enough about the ticking to actually do something before the bomb exploded, thinking somehow things were going to resolves themselves with time.
And that’s how Taehyung tells them.
After letting Taehyung wet his shirt for a while, Jimin gestures to the table for someone to get him a tissue. Hoseok brings it to him, erratic, before quickly getting to the kitchen and making everyone cups of boiling tea. No one mentions the ice cream cake still in the fridge.
Jungkook is the one that comes forward to rub Taehyung’s back, gently taking him by the arm. They both help move a calmer – but still sniffling – Taehyung to the couch, getting him more tissues and a blanket. Jungkook ends up curling near Taehyung, legs tucked in under his butt and nervously nibbling at his lip ring.
Jimin can see the worry in Jungkook’s face, through his erratically traveling eyes and movements. To take time to think and clear his head, he goes to the kitchen and helps Hoseok get everybody a cup of tea. While passing near the dining table, Namjoon shoots him a look.
We need to talk about this.
Taehyung having a breakdown like that wasn’t normal, especially over something so trivial. Jimin sits on a chair near the couch, looking at his fuming mug, while everybody finds their place on the couches and chairs in an imperfect circle.
Hoseok sits down on the other side of Taehyung, leaving a small kiss on the top of his head before giving him his mug. “Drink this,” he whispers. “But not right away ‘cause it’s too hot.”
“You know,” Seokjin starts, looking around at the others. “You didn’t have to cry, Taehyung-sshi – I was going to forgive you anyway for forgetting my birthday.”
Taehyung gives him a weak smile. He’s embarrassed – it’s really easy to read embarrassment on Taehyung. Which is strange because Taehyung is usually never one to be embarrassed from crying, he’s the one usually embracing it: if there was an emotion that was opposite of Taehyung, it was shame. “I’m sorry,” he says, his voice low and still unsteady. “I’m not sure what’s happening to me these days.”
Jimin bites the inside of his cheek. Taehyung’s been like this for months now, it’s not a matter of days anymore.
“Well, you got our attention,” Seokjin tries to joke again. “I was supposed to be the one on everyone’s mind tonight, but I’ll give you my spot if you really want it that bad.”
“You literally got your birthday dinner already,” Yoongi pokes the elder. “What more do you want?”
“What’s going on, Taehyung-ah?”
With that confident tone, Namjoon immediately gets everyone’s attention, getting the subject right back on Taehyung again while all of their eyes shift to him. The light mood Seokjin was trying to maintain is shattered in a matter of milliseconds. Namjoon breathes in, looking at the younger in front of him. “I feel like everyone here can sense something has been going on lately,” he continues. Jimin tenses up instinctively, his hands tightening around his hot mug. “I was actually talking about this with Hobi-hyung the other day – about the fact that we haven’t had a serious talk like this in a while, all together. And not about anything personal or sincere, anyway.”
“We should talk more,” Yoongi agrees, nodding. “We were so good at this – I’m not sure why we’ve stopped doing things like this routinely, checking in periodically.”
Namjoon nods, glancing at the others to try and find more support. Jimin nods once, barely enough for anybody to notice, before getting back to his tea. He’s nervous, a lump seems to be stuck in his throat and it makes it hard to swallow anything. Something in him has unlocked – it’s like part of him knows what’s coming, what Taehyung has to say to them. It would make sense, considering his behavior.
Jimin isn’t sure if the others are nodding, too; he doesn’t want to lift his head up to check. Namjoon’s eyes fix on Taehyung again. “I’d love to know what’s going on in your head, Taehyung-ie. I’m sure we all would. We want to help you out with whatever is going on.”
And maybe, Jimin thinks, it’s not what he thinks it might be. Because Taehyung is the type of guy who always has so much going on, both in his head and in his life. Maybe he’s been dating a girl I don’t know about, Jimin prompts himself. Maybe she’s bringing troubles.
“I…” Taehyung starts, his voice audibly shaking. His knuckles are white, tight, and strong around the used tissues Hoseok gave him minutes ago. “I don’t think I’m enjoying this anymore.”
Jimin feels like someone just punched him in the stomach.
It’s as if all the air in the room has been sucked out with a machine and all of them have to suddenly hold their breath until the oxygen comes back, even though no one really has the certainty that it will come back at all. And so maybe they just die like this, holding their breath and waiting for something to get them to breathe again.
Jimin feels lightheaded, his hands almost dropping the tea on their grey carpet.
“What do you mean?” Namjoon voice is sweet, which deeply surprises Jimin. There isn’t another universe where Jimin could have that tone of voice right now, asking a question like that to a visibly hurt and broken Taehyung. And why is Namjoon even asking this? Jimin knows he perfectly understood what Taehyung means. All of them understood – hell, Namjoon probably even saw it coming with how perceptive he always was.
But Jimin had no idea, before this.
Jungkook’s eyes are wide, finally leaving his lap and darting over at Jimin, completely in shock. But Jimin doesn’t know what to say to make him feel better, to help his confusion, because he’s going through the same surprise Jungkook is.
“You want to quit?” Yoongi asks.
In any other situation, Jimin would have picked up on how pathetically stereotypical they were being. Of course, Namjoon is the one to bring up the meeting because he has noticed something is wrong; and of course, it’s Yoongi who has the actual courage to acknowledge the problem, asking a question that explicitly.
Instead, Jimin doesn’t notice the irony. He thinks he might actually pass out, right there on the chair near Seokjin. This can’t be happening. Jimin sees the way Jungkook is holding his breath, like a cartoon; he sees it in his posture and his expression, his face pale and tight, still looking over at Jimin to find some sort of comfort. Neither of them has the courage to directly look at Taehyung right now.
Taehyung’s tears start to build up in his eyes again, his cheeks getting red and spotty. “I don’t know,” he whimpers out: it’s all he manages to say before he’s sobbing again, his shoulders violently shaking while he leans over to Hoseok.
Hoseok hugs him tight with one arm, pushing him as close to his chest as he can. He starts to get teary, too, aware at how little Taehyung feels in his arms. “Maybe it’s better if we sleep on this,” Hoseok says, looking at Namjoon with shiny eyes. “We can talk about it tomorrow.”
“Jimin-ah,” Namjoon interrupts Hoseok, suddenly facing Jimin. “You are quiet.”
Did you know about this?
It takes Jimin a moment to compose himself enough to reply with a decent tone. “I’m just surprised,” he says, his voice low.
No, Namjoon, I didn’t know.
“Joon-ah,” Hoseok warns him again, giving him a stern look with his hand still caressing Taehyung’s hair. “This can wait until tomorrow, right?”
Namjoon reluctantly nods at that, humming in agreement but not dropping Jimin’s gaze. It feels like he’s waiting for Jimin to explain something, to tell him a missing piece that could make all of this make sense – it feels like Namjoon is looking for an answer. But Jimin doesn’t have it.
Jimin looks away, trying to catch his breath and get his heartbeat back to a normal rate. Not wanting to be the one to get up first, he waits for someone to make the first move; and sure enough, Yoongi slowly gets up to leave, wishing everyone good night. Jimin can’t help but notice that Yoongi didn’t even pretend to drink the tea Hoseok had made, his mug completely untouched on the marble table.
Jimin’s eating problem starts like most things in his life – he doesn’t even notice.
Jimin wakes up the day after Seokjin’s birthday dinner disaster with crusty eyes and a vicious headache. He vividly remembers falling asleep crying, texting Jungkook that they were going to figure it out somehow, even though he had no idea how yet. He wasn’t able to bring himself to text Taehyung before falling asleep, though – mainly because he didn’t know what to say.
The last image Jimin had of the living room was Taehyung still holding on to Hoseok on the couch, mumbling something into his chest. “I’m sorry,” Jimin only hears him say, and Hoseok looks at Jimin one more time before sighing and whispering something back. Jimin doesn’t want to stay to hear it because he feels his knees could go weak seeing Taehyung like that. Part of him would want to go and give him comfort, too, but his instinct is telling him to leave. It’s the easier thing to do, and so that’s what Jimin does, bringing the tea with him to his room.
Jimin realizes soon enough, once he wakes up, that he doesn’t want to get out of bed if he’s not specifically needed somewhere. He doesn’t exactly know when they were planning on talking everything through, so he feels like waiting for further notice by texts could be a good idea. There isn’t something that Jimin would want to do less than have a meeting just woken up by a horrible night of sleep.
Jungkook has left him a couple of other texts during the night.
do you think he would actually quit?? 01:07am
i cant stop thinking about it i had no idea it was that bad 01:48am
Jimin sighs, reading just a few of them, and immediately he feels like he’s about to cry again. He puts the phone back on the nightstand with the maximum volume on and gets back to sleep in a matter of minutes.
When Jimin wakes up back again, is at noon – and just because someone is heavily knocking at his door.
With zero surprises from Jimin, it’s Jungkook. He’s very sleepy, too, with dark circles under his eyes and messy hair covering his face.
“Hyung?” he mumbles. No matter how Jimin notices how disheveled Jungkook looks; he knows he probably looks ten times worse, standing with his wrinkled shorts and puffy eyes. “Namjoon wants us in the living room.”
Jimin nods, rubbing his eyes. “Two minutes and I’ll be there.”
Jimin knows, as soon as he closes the door, that that day won’t be a good day. He feels it in his guts; literally, everything in his body is screaming at him, begging him to get back to bed and sleep until sunset.
And when he checks his phone and sees no texts from Taehyung, he knows he’s right.
The talk is painful and Jimin must physically refrain from getting up and leaving the room several times.
Taehyung apologizes for the past evening, his voice unstable but clear in a way that makes Jimin wonder how many times he’s rehearsed this throughout the night. Apparently, he explains, he’s mentally not feeling good and needs a break.
Namjoon’s idea is to take a break for a whole month – and then see where we are at, check back with Taehyung and have a genuine chat about the new contract and sort their options out.
They want to talk about their contracts. Jimin’s stomach feels like it’s inside out. What’s there to talk about? Don’t they want to renew it?
“There’s not going to be a better moment than this; if we miss this opportunity, we might have to wait for three months for even a straight week off.” Namjoon looks at Taehyung again. “And I wouldn’t want to make things worse with waiting too much.”
Yoongi is the first one to agree. “I think a month is perfect, Joon-ah. Everyone else?”
Everybody nods in agreement, not really commenting any further.
“Alright,” Namjoon states, joining his hands together. “I’ll tell the staff to put out a statement by the end of the week – we’ll see what they are able to come up with.”
“I’m sorry,” Taehyung apologizes for the fifth time. “I just… I think I need it.”
“It’s okay, really,” Namjoon tries to give him a reassuring smile. “I’m sure we could actually all benefit from it.”
Even though Jimin can somewhat agree with that, he’s not sure he wants to say so out loud. Taehyung is thinking about quitting, he keeps thinking. Why is no one else acknowledging this? This isn’t going to be just a break.
“I think I’ll go back to my family for a couple of weeks.” Taehyung blushes, apologetic. “If that’s okay.”
Seokjin pats his back, looking at him fondly. “That’s a great idea, Tae. I’ll plan a trip to Japan if my friends are up for it – if I’m quick they’ll be able to take a vacation from work.”
“Oh, thanks for the invite,” Hoseok laughs it off.
“It’s not like you would have come, anyway. When’s the last time you went a day without practicing in the dance room?”
“I could still dance in the hotels and stuff,” Hoseok replies. “Don’t be an ass.”
Namjoon jumps in. “I’ll leave too, probably, if my cousins are up for it.”
Jimin understands the need of wanting to leave – but he really doesn’t share it, at all, so he couldn’t relate to the overall conversation. He looks around the others and immediately sees Jungkook looking at him. They try and give each other a small smile – and they both know what it means. We’ll both stay here.
“Do you want to have lunch with me? Everyone else is either going out or seems really busy.” Jungkook approaches Jimin after almost everyone left. Taehyung wanted to go back to his room to pack and didn’t even look at Jimin once before leaving the room.
It was awkward between them.
In all honesty, it’s not like Jimin tried to make eye contact with him anyway. He just didn’t know what to say to him, since everything was so unexpected and rushed. It was hard to think that Taehyung could have been thinking about this for weeks now, and maybe even months, and never once mentioned it to Jimin. They hung out a lot together, talking about their most private moments, getting real and honest with each other; and apparently not even once Taehyung felt comfortable enough to share his issues.
“I don’t really feel like eating,” Jimin tells him. He was a bit nauseous, and the headache he got from the late-night crying was still bothering him too much. “I can keep you some company, though.”
Jungkook ends up ordering noodles and eating on the floor, while Jimin zaps through the television channels. To a degree, Jimin is comfortable with the way they are avoiding what just happened. He had a feeling Jungkook would be the one, out of everyone else, that could understand the mixture of emotions going through his head after what Taehyung told them. They were always in tune with each other with those sorts of things.
“Do you want to go to the movie theatre room? We could pick something on Netflix and watch it there.” Jungkook plays with the last pieces of food left in his box. “Something light and funny, maybe.”
He doesn’t want to talk about it, Jimin thinks. Thank fucking God.
But they don’t make it to the movie theatre room, because Jimin’s zapping settles on some historical drama and falls asleep after a couple of minutes into it. Jimin falls asleep, eyes heavy closing by themselves while Jungkook starts to lightly snore at his feet. It feels comfortable, it feels like something normal. Jimin needs to pretend like everything is still fine for a while, not ready to acknowledge the shift.
The sleep knocks Jimin out enough to have his headache duplicated when he’s woken up by kitchen noises, many hours later.
Jungkook isn’t sleeping there with him anymore, and while sleeping Jimin apparently slid down the couch enough to have a leg and an arm touching the floor, with two pillows on the carpet near them. The light is dim, and Jimin instantly knows that he slept too much because there’s no way it’s only been a couple of hours if it’s almost dark outside.
The television is turned off. Jimin rubs his eyes, slowly getting up enough to sit on the couch – and the noise of pots colliding happens again, ringing in his head. Although it’s not louder than normal, it hits Jimin as if a bell got smashed by his ears.
Namjoon is the one in the kitchen, cutting peppers on a board with a mess all over the counter.
“What are you doing?”
“Oh,” Namjoon looks over, surprised at seeing Jimin standing there. “I’m sorry, Jimin-sshi, I was trying really hard not to wake you up – but finding shit in this kitchen is crazy. I’m making dinner for myself and hyungs.”
Even with how sleepy and dizzy he feels, Jimin realizes what a bad idea that is. “Why aren’t you just ordering something?”
Namjoon waits a second before replying, awkwardly starting to slice some onions. “Can I be honest?”, Namjoon makes a face. “I just needed an excuse to leave the studio for a while.”
“Overwhelming?”
“The opposite,” Namjoon smiles, a bit sad. “Everyone wants to work and pretend nothing is happening. It just felt like too much after a while… I think Yoongi-hyung wrote two full songs in two hours or something.”
“Seems in character,” Jimin comments, looking around the mess. “Who are you making this for, then? Just Yoongi-hyung?”
“Hobi-hyung is there, too. Staring at the wall with a notebook in his hands – hey, can you check if something is burning? Something is definitely burning over there.”
Jimin checks the pot boiling, stirring a bit, and lowers the stove. Jimin isn’t sure if it’s because he slept too much or if Namjoon fucked the recipe up, but the smell isn’t hitting him the right way, the way the smell of cooking food is supposed to hit him. He feels a hint of nausea rising through his body.
“Maybe you should taste it, hyung,” Jimin closes the pot and turns around. “I’m getting nauseous – I don’t think I can help much with the cooking.”
Namjoon frowns. “Are you okay? You don’t have to help me cook, you should go and lay down if you don’t feel good.”
“I’m fine,” Jimin lies. “Can I help you clean up later, maybe? I see you used triple the stuff you actually needed.”
“I swear to God, Jimin-ah, cooking is too much for me.”
Jimin chuckles, getting a clean towel from the drawer to start wiping the counter. Being around Namjoon feels comfortable, even in silence. Jimin understands how Namjoon must have felt in the studio: all three of them sprawled around, each of them lost in their own thoughts, but with the biggest cloud above them that no one has the strength to even mention.
“Did you and Jungkook-ie talk about it?”
Jimin expected that question, but the topic brought up like this still makes his heart do a flip. “No,” Jimin replies. “I can’t help but feel like – ” Jimin stops, trying to push the thought away immediately. He doesn’t want to say it out loud.
“Feel like what?” Namjoon looks curious. “You can tell me, Jimin-sshi. Are you worried about the break?”
Jimin notices his own hands trembling and quickly closes his fists, trying to get back his composure. “Honestly, hyung,” he lowers his voice. “I think we’ll take this break and then we’ll have to disband.”
Namjoon’s eyes narrow, trying to decode the younger’s face in front of him while Jimin quickly moves over to throw some food scraps in the bin. “Is that all you took away from our conversation today?”
“I just don’t want to be disappointed and create expectation.”
Namjoon’s frowns deepen, not fully grasping what Jimin is trying to say. “Why are you talking like this? You sound like it’s already written in the stars.”
Jimin thinks it over. “It’s because I know Taehyung.”
Namjoon cracks a sad smile again, sighting. “Taehyung has always been unpredictable, though. Don’t you think?”
Jimin doesn’t respond right away – he’s not sure he knows Taehyung that well anymore. Jimin still has a hard time understanding why Taehyung couldn’t tell him about it before and why he had to find out about it at the same time as everybody else. “I don’t know what to think,” Jimin says, absently picking a mug from the cupboard. “I really need to make myself some coffee, though.”
While lifting himself to pick up the mug, Jimin’s vision starts to blur. He stops right away and tries to blink away the black spots, stumbling to the left.
“Are you alright?” Namjoon looks at him concerned. “Are you going to faint?”
Jimin shakes his head, lightly, shutting his eyes closed. “’Sorry,” he manages to say. “I’m blacking out I think.”
Namjoon is immediately behind him, firmly holding him by the arms. “Oh, shit, wait – you have to lie down, let’s go to the couch.”
“I don’t think I’ll make it to the couch,” Jimin slurs out, before completely passing out on Namjoon.
Jimin wakes up on the couch, for the second time that day. The position is pretty much the same, but the feeling is different with Namjoon hunched over him, placing some ice on his forehead.
“Sleeping beauty,” Namjoon smiles fondly at him. “Have you eaten something today? You look very weak.”
That’s when Jimin realizes. It’s been 24 hours since his last meal.
“Yeah,” Jimin lies. “I have. It’s just been a stressful day.”
“Don’t overthink this,” Namjoon whispers. “I’m sure everything will be alright if we give it enough time – but you have to take care of yourself during the break. Like, you should treat yourself right when you are on a break the same way when you are working for comeback or whatever. Proper self-care and stuff while I’m gone. Promise?”
Jimin breaks into a small smile. “I always do, don’t I? But please,” Jimin continues before Namjoon can open his mouth to reply. “Don’t leave me alone with those goons too much – you know how difficult it gets the fewer people in the house there are.”
Namjoon lets out a chuckle. “You’ll be fine. Yoongi-hyung will barely get out of the studio anyway and Jungkook and Hobi-hyung will just come and bother you from time to time, demanding company and food from you.” Namjoon’s dimples peek through, almost saying hi to Jimin. “I’ll come back before you’ll even have the time to miss me.”
*
Turns out Namjoon was right about one thing, and completely dead wrong about another.
Their group chat is active most days, with Seokjin sending pics of the trips, mostly showing food or his friends doing silly faces. For the most part, Namjoon checks up on them asking basic questions, and slips in a pic or two occasionally. Jimin knows Namjoon went on the trip with his girlfriend – and he finds it amusing how shy the elder was about it, still trying to pretend they were just friends. It was adorable, all of it: Namjoon getting shy when someone mentions her name or him smiling while reading her text messages. Jimin tried multiple times to ask him if they were official yet, but Namjoon always found a way to change the topic.
Jungkook remains glued to the couch most afternoons, only leaving at night for what Jimin suspected were parties. Jimin doesn’t think it’s his business to ask where he’s going when he catches him leaving, all dressed up in brand new clothing. It’s nice, though, because Jungkook makes sure to check on Jimin and hang out together every couple of days, either playing video games or working out so that they could get their usual alone, quality time in. Jungkook never mentions the break or Taehyung, and Jimin returns the favor by not asking about the parties or his general daily activities. They just enjoy the time they have, like nothing substantial is hanging over their heads threatening their careers.
Hoseok is the one who keeps Jimin sane most days, really. They dance a lot together, even meeting up with some of their favorite choreographers to practice and get lessons. They make a couple of videos to publish, with behind the scenes included, but then they had to scrap the whole thing because the company didn’t think it would be a good idea to publish content like that during the break.
Yoongi’s pattern barely changes from his normal routine. He’s nowhere to be seen most days, like Namjoon predicted, probably locked up in his studio and maybe even eating there. Jimin can imagine the scene clearly: packs of takeout stacking up in the bin, half-empty whiskey bottles, and notes scrambled up everywhere on his desk. Nothing out of the ordinary.
And Taehyung – Taehyung left for Daegu to see his family like he planned. He never replies in the group chat, and even though Jimin tries to rationalize it, he’s deeply hurt by that.
Jimin hates every single second of it. He hates how uncomfortable he is about texting or calling Taehyung, just to check up or to ask him about his mother and father. Jimin hates how weird it is that they haven’t been talking after Seokjin’s birthday. But above all: Jimin hates how much anger and resentment he’s storing inside, building up like blocks.
He doesn’t know what to do: should he be the one to text him first, even with how upset he was with Taehyung not opening up to him?
Jimin settles on waiting for Taehyung to contact him first – of course, he chooses the easy thing to do again.
Jimin misses everybody: he misses Seokjin and Namjoon bickering, lighting the mood up and getting everybody to watch a silly movie or cook dinner. And he misses Taehyung like air.
After fainting with Namjoon, Jimin returned to his room without having eaten anything all day – and he knew, while staring at the ceiling of his bedroom with his stomach feeling empty, trying to fall asleep, that the month-long break would be downhill from there.
The tingling sensation of the first 24 hours is familiar: his body is used to skipping a day of meals, usually before shooting music videos or before fancy red carpets for award shows. But somehow Jimin knows this is different: there’s no camera he needs to get ready for, no pictures he must take or clothes to fit in. And yet, it feels correct.
If there’s something Jimin is more than capable of doing, it’s being strict with himself when it comes to reaching a goal.
It starts off in the early morning the next day, after an entire night playing video games. Jimin sees the early signs of the sunrise through his window, while proper hunger hits him. From then, Jimin takes it as a game: let’s see how long I can go if I try and fast for real.
To Jimin’s surprise, the competition he started with himself turns out to be increasingly more entertaining the longer it goes on.
Although the second day of not eating is horrible, Jimin starts to get euphoric on the third day. While the previous day he had no energy to even just get out of bed and go to the bathroom, he regains all of it the day after and more. He feels light, almost glowing – and the feeling of emptiness in his stomach gives him all the company he needed.
Jimin has all the water he needs in his room: all kinds of flavored water bottles bought months ago and that he never really used, with a mini-fridge with all the ice he wants. He mostly sleeps and plays video games, taking a bath occasionally just for the pleasure of it and applying all sorts of creams to his body just to pass time. He tries not to get out of his room if he doesn’t need to, afraid the urge would be too irresistible once out of that door and near the kitchen.
On day five, Jimin has to physically lock himself in his own room so that he would have an extra step to go through before leaving, getting him more time to think if he actually wants to follow his instinct to reach the kitchen. He asks Hoseok to postpone the dance practice they had planned for a couple of days just in case he was able to complete an entire week.
Jimin ends up not quite getting there: he starts getting cramps, while in the bathtub, and he’s forced by the pain to get up and go eat something. He settles on fruits, something sweet enough to satisfy his cravings and get something easily digestible in him: strawberries, apples, kiwis.
“Oh, look who’s here!” Hoseok greets him with a big smile. “You got out of your cave? I was getting worried you died in there – I would have called a swat team if it weren’t for you replying to my texts.”
“Yeah, imagine Namjoon-hyung getting that call while on vacation,” Jimin chuckles, mixing his fruit salad. Although everything in Jimin is screaming to eat it, he still pauses before going for a bite. “Do you want some?”
Hoseok accepts the offer, sitting close to Jimin and grabbing some chopsticks from the drawer. Jimin takes small pieces of fruits for himself, chewing slowly, while his cramps still creep out in him.
“Are you up for a workout with me today?” Hoseok asks, taking another piece of fruit.
Jimin thinks it over. In all honesty, he’s not sure he has the energy for it – but part of him is intrigued if he could handle it. Not eating for six days and then getting a workout in with just some bits of fruits in his body and liters of flavored water doesn’t seem like a good idea.
“Sure,” he says, the tingling feeling of euphoria rushing over him again. “Let’s go right now.”
And so, Jimin regularly starts skipping meals.
For the first two weeks of the month-long break, Jimin mainly struggles with his cravings. He manages to get down something to eat, some fruits or raw vegetables, half an hour before dancing with Hoseok so that he wouldn’t be too weak – other than that, he barely touches anything and stays in his own room all day.
On a Friday night, Jimin feels the urge to get wasted.
Jimin starts to have regular cramps in the morning, especially the days after not working out with Hoseok: painful squeezes at the pit of the stomach, slowly increasing in intensity and speed for a variable number of minutes, then stopping for a couple of hours out of nowhere before starting back up again. But he’s still refusing to eat; he wants to push it more, to see where it could go. It would be interesting to see if he could make it until the end of the month, even if he’s only halfway there.
Jimin has done the math – a full month of fasting like that could make him drop more weight than a normal diet could in six whole months. The numbers weren’t even his goal, but Jimin would be lying if he said he didn’t care at all about them: it was a nice consequence of the game he decided to play.
At times, Jimin feels like the pain of the cramps could make him go insane: he can’t seem to focus on anything for more than five minutes, shifting positions from the bed to the couch in his studio, and making himself heat pads and hot tea constantly trying to alleviate some of it.
Jungkook comes to his room to check on him after lunch. He called Jimin in the morning to chat and see if he wanted to get breakfast together, and Jimin had to explain that he was having horrible cramps and was feeling like shit.
“Are you feeling a bit better?”
It’s hard for Jimin to lie to Jungkook when they are in the same room; and no good excuse exists to hide the fact that he was curled up on the floor with a heat pad under his shirt.
“The cramps started again,” Jimin explains, getting up to sit on the bed.
Jungkook sits down near him, watching closely when Jimin lies down on the bed groaning, with the hair of his bangs sticking to the sweat on his forehead.
“Maybe you are pregnant,” Jungkook says, poking lightly at the elder’s abdomen. “You are always locked in this room. Who knows what you’re up to, uh?”
“It feels like it,” Jimin groans. “I might give birth in a minute or two.”
“Do you even know who the father is?”
“Idiot,” Jimin smiles a bit, amused, while he smacks the younger’s hand away. “Mind your business.”
Jungkook lies down beside Jimin, putting an arm over him and scooting him closer. “Do you want a massage?”, he asks. “Or maybe some medicine? Another heat pad?”
Jimin shakes his head “no”, cutely, snuggling up on Jungkook’s chest. “Thank you, Ggukie”, Jimin whispers against the younger’s neck.
Jungkook hums, tightening his grip on Jimin. They stay like that for a while, holding onto each other and getting their breathing synced up to a calm, slow rhythm. Jungkook’s touch is able to bring some sort of peace to Jimin, at least temporarily. It’s nice to be cuddled like that.
“I have a party tonight,” Jungkook says, his voice sweet and innocent. “Do you want to come with me if you feel better?”
Jimin thinks about it, his mind wandering to all the possibilities. He really wanted to drink and black out for a couple of hours – but the idea of being in a loud crowd doesn’t excite him at all. “Who’s there?” he asks, before saying anything else he could regret.
“It’s an idol party,” Jungkook explains. “Not far from here. I’m thinking of calling our driver because I really wanted to drink and not have to worry about it.”
An idol party. Jimin knows what that means. “I don’t know,” he says. “I don’t feel like being the third wheel of you getting pussy.”
“Hyung…” Jungkook squeezes Jimin’s shoulder, sighting. “I wouldn’t do that to you, you know that.” He pauses. “I understand you are mad at Tae, but you can’t stay locked alone in this room forever.”
Jimin closes his eyes shut, pushing the thought away. He doesn’t want to talk about Taehyung right now. Jimin gulps down. “What if this is the last idol party we are going to be at?”
Jungkook lets out a spontaneous laugh, genuinely surprised. He’s playful though because Jimin knows the younger is not making fun of him: Jungkook is always very attentive when it comes to Jimin’s insecurities. “Even when we disband, or if we disband,” he says, “we are never being not invited to idol parties – I’m sure you know that. And Jimin-ah,” he takes Jimin’s chin between his fingers, to have their faces facing each other and their eyes locking. “You are the only one who thinks we will disband, anyway. It’s just a break.”
Jimin starts to get teary eyes looking at Jungkook like that. He was supposed to be the older one, the one consoling and lifting the mood for Jungkook while telling him it’ll be okay in any way it’ll end. But he wasn’t able to. In the situation he was in, he couldn’t be helpful to anyone.
“I’m such a bad friend.”
“Don’t be silly.” Jungkook leans over and places a kiss on Jimin’s forehead. “You are just having a bad week, I’m really sorry for your stomachache.”
Jimin weakly smiles. “I think I’ll pass for tonight, Gguk-ie. But I promise you I’ll come next time.”
Jungkook smiles back. “You also promise me you’ll call me tonight if you are having bad cramps again? I have no issues leaving everybody to keep you company if you are in pain.”
“Of course,” Jimin fixes his heat pad, pressing it more into his lower belly and gets back to the crook of Jungkook’s neck. “You’ll be the first one to know if it gets bad again.”
As a general rule, Jimin always thought that drinking at the dorm sounds more fun than drinking at the club. That is, of course, if he has someone else to drink with.
Not to be mistaken – Jimin loves parties. Lots of people, loud music, a great string of cocktails (usually), and sweaty, mindless dancing. He liked to make out while drunk; Hoseok and Taehyung made fun of him for it all the time. They loved to poke fun at him flirting and dancing with cute guys, while hyping him up at the same time.
But getting a good group of friends to drink at home and doing shots while playing games, was completely on another level: Jimin loves the spontaneity of nights spent like that, on the floor of the living room and then falling asleep right there, sprawled all over the couches and chairs. And then he loves the morning after, too, when everybody is grumpy since the sleep sucked because someone snore too loud or because the positions were too uncomfortable. It was fun, it felt like being young.
On that Friday night, Jimin has to be happy settling on a compromise. He decides he will still get fucked up at home – but he kind of has to do it alone. Hoseok ended up being the one keeping Jungkook company for the party and Yoongi – Jimin has no idea where Yoongi is. He hasn’t seen him since the day of the talk, when Taehyung packed and left.
The idea of drinking even though he had a stomachache all day long and nothing else but a bunch of pineapple sitting in his body was a bad one. He knows that: but it’s not like he cares about the consequences at the moment. Jimin rationalized it calling it “experimenting”.
Jimin isn’t feeling wine tonight, getting reminded about the last time he drank too much of it: the headache, the aftertaste. He wants something that will get him drunk quickly.
His mind shifts to Yoongi again: he always had something good hidden somewhere, a fancy and expensive bottle he bought years ago waiting to get opened on a good day. Jimin tries to go into the alcohol cabinet, to look around. He has no idea where to even begin since he doesn’t even know the difference between most of the bottles and since many of them had English and Cyrillic words he couldn’t identify.
Jimin starts to wander through the dorm with a bottle of what he thinks could be rum in one hand and a shot glass in the other.
The dorm is nice and quiet, every corner squeaky clean and put together nicely; small plants and painting color coordinated with the wallpaper and the carpet.
Jimin finds himself on Yoongi’s side of the building. He wonders, for a moment, if his hyung is still home; at the end of the day, it’s a Friday night right in the middle of their month off. What would Yoongi do, at home alone?
There had been days, before debut and even sometime after, where Yoongi was a complete mystery to Jimin. Avoidant, at times cold, Jimin used to have a feeling the elder didn’t quite like him that much – or that at least, he deeply preferred Hoseok or Jungkook over him any day. But with time, Jimin learned to understand that Yoongi was just complicated and just had a different way of keeping his friendships. In a strange way, their different personalities mashed pretty well together.
But one thing is for sure: Jimin has never understood Yoongi more than in the past two weeks. There was something so comforting about locking himself in a room, alone, and it worked like an addiction. Spending time for yourself and yourself only, not doing anything more than just drift away.
Jimin liked the self-destructive part of it, the spiraling of his own thoughts – Yoongi probably like the comfort of it and then being left alone.
The lights in the hallways connecting to Yoongi’s part of the building – his bedroom, bathroom, and the biggest studio of the entire dorm – are, to Jimin’s surprise, on.
On an impulse, Jimin takes two straight full shots, one after the other, and then goes to knock on Yoongi’s studio door.
Yoongi has a new and grey laptop in front of him, with a tab opened on a bunch of codes that Jimin isn’t able to read nor understand, while he writes down something on a scribbled notepad. His desk is messy, but not too overcrowded with things: there are two coffee mugs and some scrapped and curled up paper, with a bright yellow highlighter laying open.
“Hyung,” Jimin tries to get his attention. “Do you want to have a drink with me?”
Yoongi absently shakes his head “no”, not looking up from the notepad. “Sorry, I’m working,” he mumbles. “What’s up?”
“I just wanted some company,” Jimin looks around the studio, peeking curiously. “Can I stay here for a while?”
Yoongi huffs. “If you’re quiet enough.”
“Uh-oh,” Jimin smiles, taking it as an invite in. “Then you might have to kick me out after a bit.”
Yoongi takes a glance at Jimin, his eyes immediately catching the bottle of rum Jimin had in his hand. He stops in his track, putting down the pen and sitting back into his chair with an unreadable expression on his face.
“Jungkook’s out?” he asks, an eyebrow raising.
Jimin is a bit offended by the comment – he can tell what Yoongi is trying to say. Jungkook isn’t here, so you came to my studio?
“I don’t know, did he leave?” Jimin lies, getting closer to Yoongi’s desk and leaning over, to see what the elder was doing. “Is this a song?”
“It should be if I’m able to finish it – it’s not ours, anyway,” Yoongi clarifies quickly, looking back at the laptop. “It’s a collab,” Yoongi closes the opened tab, even though he should know Jimin has no chance of understanding any of it. “It should be a surprise, Jimin-ah, don’t be nosey.”
Jimin smiles, going over to the black leather couch in the corner. “You don’t have to hide those things from me, you know I don’t understand your codes anyway. Why was the door unlocked? You never keep it open like that.”
Yoongi stretches his arms over his head, leaning on the back of the chair and yawning. “What time is it?” he asks, ignoring Jimin’s question.
“10pm? I’m not sure,” Jimin replies, putting the shot glass on the coffee table and pouring himself his third shot. “Did you even have dinner yet, hyung?”
Yoongi lazily points at the trash bin, a couple of white cardboard boxes peeking through the top. “I had takeout.”
Jimin snorts, taking the shot in one go, throwing his head back. “When don’t you have takeout?” he says sarcastically, cringing at the burn in his throat.
Yoongi ignores Jimin’s comment again. “Is that your dinner? Plain rum?”
Jimin shrugs. “Are you sure you don’t want to have a drink with me?” he asks, eyes shiny and lips pouted. “Don’t make me drink alone.”
The elder shakes his head, sighing. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages,” Yoongi points out, turning the chair to face Jimin on the couch. “And then you randomly show up in my studio with a bottle of rum – you are weird.”
Jimin’s heart skips a beat. He tries to hold in a smile, looking down at his hands. Cute, Jimin thinks. He noticed I’ve been gone. “It’s been a wild two weeks, don’t you think?” Jimin feels lighter, his blood rushing wildly through his body.
“Right,” Yoongi replies, eyebrows pinched together and looking at Jimin’s now empty shot glass on the table. “But I thought you knew about it – I thought Taehyung told you before telling us.”
Jimin freezes, his good mood instantly drifting away. “He didn’t,” he forces himself to reply, his throat going dry.
Jimin thinks that probably just hearing Taehyung’s name out loud is enough for him to crumble on the floor and start crying, but he holds still, trying to catch his breathing. Jimin is sure Yoongi would have not appreciated a nervous breakdown in his studio while he’s trying to finish a song.
“Why are you even working, hyung?” Jimin asks him, pouring himself another shot. His hands feel lighter than usual and his vision starts to blur. “It’s a Friday night on a month off.”
Yoongi shrugs. “I go out when I feel like it,” he explains. “Not because it’s a certain day of the week.”
Jimin fights the urge of rolling his eyes to the ceiling. “Right,” he says. "I forgot you say shit like that sometimes.”
“You never drink like this unless you are partying,” Yoongi eyes the bottle, his face unreadable again. “And that brand is really expensive, where did you even get that?”
Jimin scrunches up his nose. “We could go to a party, though.”
Yoongi’s eyebrows get higher at that, while he tilts his head forward. Jimin doesn’t mean any of it, but he knows Yoongi wouldn’t accept his offer anyway.
And predictably, Yoongi snorts. “Jimin-ah,” he starts, clearing his voice. “I’m the last person you would want to go partying with.”
Jimin giggles. “That’s not true.”
“You know,” Yoongi says. “I don’t think people do shots with plain rum.”
“I’m sure there’s a country where this is socially acceptable,” Jimin bites back. “Like, somewhere in northern Europe.”
Yoongi hums, looking around the room. “I really need to finish this,” he says suddenly, with a hint of frustration mudding his voice. “Can we hang out another day?”
Jimin’s hand stops mid-air while reaching for the shot glass. For some reason, it hurts him in a way most things don’t. Jimin was locked in his room for almost two full weeks, avoiding Hoseok and Jungkook most of the time and barely eating anything if not sad pieces of ripe fruit. It was the first time he actually wanted to hang out with someone and have company, and Yoongi just explicitly said that he was too busy. “Alright,” he says, eyes filling with tears too quickly for Jimin to push them away. “We can catch up another time.”
Jimin gets up, turning his face away from Yoongi to hide his reaction as much as he can. He can feel himself getting red from the embarrassment of being kicked out like that – and Yoongi noticing how much he was affected would just make the situation ten times worse.
Jimin looks down at the filled shot glass on the table, not knowing if he should leave it there or drink it so he could get the glass back to the kitchen. It’s too full to carry without having the liquid spill over. He feels a knot in his throat and he’s not sure anymore if the blur in his vision is because of the alcohol or the tears.
“I mean,” Jimin hears Yoongi awkwardly mumbling behind him. “You can stay if you just let me finish the song.”
“It’s fine,” Jimin quickly replies, drinking the shot impulsively in one go. It’s his fourth, and the stomach already fights it as soon as it feels it landing. “I’m leaving.”
“Jimin-ah…”
Jimin leaves, not bothering to close the door behind him just in case Yoongi wanted to actually finish the sentence. The elder doesn’t.
It takes a couple of steps in the hallway for Jimin’s tears to fully start running down his face. A small sob slips out of him – and Jimin feels like he might be the most pathetic person in the entire country right now. He doesn’t know why the alcohol has hit it him that way, making him so emotional. The rejection wasn’t even the worst part: the way Yoongi probably noticed how teary Jimin had gotten by it was what humiliated him the most.
He decides it right there – Jimin’s not leaving his room until the month is over, until the break has ended.
Jimin reaches the kitchen; it’s clean and tidy, not very lit. He knows he has to eat something before going to bed, because he’s starting to feel how bad his empty stomach is taking the alcohol. He settles on some almonds; he puts the rum bottle back into his place, in the cabinet, and gets the kitchen scale-out.
Slowly, he starts to weigh some almonds one by one, picking and choosing the smaller ones so he could have the illusion to eat more. He’s not exactly sure about the calories for almonds in the moment, but he does a quick estimate and then immediately tries to think of exercises that could burn off enough to make it even.
The light suddenly comes on.
“What are you doing?”
Jimin flinches, surprised. It feels like he just got caught doing something illegal with Yoongi looking at him under the door frame, his hand still on the light switch, and a perplexed expression on his face.
“Eating,” Jimin replies, defensive. He tries to fix his breathing and look unbothered by Yoongi’s presence, fully knowing his eyes are still puffy from the crying. “Shouldn’t you be working on that song?” he can’t help but say.
Yoongi blinks a couple of times. “I wanted to make sure you were okay,” he motions towards Jimin, looking at the kitchen scale in front of him with some skinny almonds on top of it. His eyebrows immediately get arched.
Please, don’t say anything. Don’t comment on me weighting fucking almonds at 10pm.
“Are you on a diet? Counting almonds but chugging half a bottle of rum alone?”
Jimin wants to die on the spot. Of course, he thinks. This is Yoongi – of course he doesn’t let it slide. Out of everybody living in the house, Yoongi was the worst person for things like this.
“It doesn’t matter,” Jimin takes the handful of almonds and throws it in the trash, angry. He feels the crying coming back, harder and heavier shaking his body. “This is a stupid conversation to have.”
“Alright,” Yoongi tries to slow him down. “You are definitely drunk now.”
“I’m not.”
“Do you want to talk about Taehyung?
Jimin freezes, again. “No,” he says, firm and almost yelling. He’s upset, and everything about the way he’s behaving gives it away. “Why would I want to? Why do people keep asking me that? If we disband, I’ll be okay. Not great, but okay – I’ll survive and move on.”
“Disband?” Yoongi frowns. “Aren’t you exaggerating? No one is talking about disbandment.”
“Of course you think that”, Jimin gets closer to face him better, suddenly furious. “I don’t know what else I expected from you. You just stay in your stupid studio and as long as you make songs everything will be fine. And the best part is that it doesn’t even have to be a BTS song – you’d be happy producing for anybody that will pay.”
“Jimin-ah”, Yoongi’s voice sounds like a warning. “You drank too much. Get some water and go to bed, okay? We can talk about this tomorrow, when you are not behaving like this.”
“Oh my God,” Jimin throws his arms in the air in disbelief. “I can’t believe you. I had literally four shots, who can even get drunk with four shots?” Jimin’s angry tears start to wet his cheeks again. “I wish we could just hang out and drink all together like we used to,” he says. “It takes a miracle to even get us to have dinner together if it’s not someone’s birthday.”
Yoongi visibly doesn’t understand what Jimin is trying to say. “We work together, Jimin-ah. We literally see each other almost every day – ”
“It’s not the same thing,” Jimin interrupts him, frustrated with how Yoongi can’t seem to understand such a simple concept. “It’s not the same as it was back then.”
“Yeah,” Yoongi pauses, trying to sweeten his voice. “And why is that a bad thing? We used to fight all the time back then. And now we grew up – I don’t think it’s as a big deal as you are making it out to be.”
“Whatever,” Jimin turns away, getting more space between them. “Good night.”
“Jimin-ah…”
But Jimin leaves the kitchen before Yoongi can finish what he wants to say, like he did just ten minutes before in his studio. He quickly gets into his room, his head spinning, and closes the door behind him so he can lean on it. Part of him wants to bash his head on it so he could knock himself out and forget about the evening – Jimin knows he acted like an idiot.
It’s probably the alcohol making him so sensitive about everything, making him overreact. Jimin is not drunk enough: he knows how terrible the morning will be, between the very likely puking and the way he spoke to Yoongi. He wishes he could be drunk enough to not remember it in the morning.
Yoongi caught me weighting almonds, Jimin cringes, while he gets into his bed. He even asked me if I was on a diet. He feels too weak to wash up, promising himself that he’ll do it double in the morning. He hopes he doesn’t have to see Yoongi for a while.
Jimin groans, loud, at the thought of stumbling upon Yoongi after that strange encounter, and he pushes a pillow over his face to muffle the noise – he feels like he could punch the wall. Hopefully, Yoongi wasn’t going to question anything too much and just let the evening be forgotten.