True Colors

AN: Hi Smokers! As promised, he's the first out of the four chapters. I will try posting the next one tomorrow. Hopefully, not the day after tomorrow. Hope you enjoy this one.

Whether Jungkook noticed that I wasn't very upbeat, he didn't mention it and I was somewhat grateful for it.

Doctor Steiner didn't find anything wrong and went as far as to predict the full recovery of his eye.

But that meant he was right about the smoke blocking oxygen pathways to his brain or that intense stress coupled with a drink or two simply knocked Jungkook out.

It was as bad as a symptomless disease that showed its ugly head only when Jungkook did what he loved most, but it was nothing that a pill or surgery could fix.

Or maybe wishing so hard you'd escape made your body allow that wish to come true. Who truly knows?

When the day came to take off the bandages, he seemed ashamed. This is why I made sure to compliment him each time, even if it was awkward for me to call him pretty out loud. I felt like he needed it, but he seemed angry at me for doing that. Though he's been angry with me doing pretty much anything.

I was aware that if I wasn't so good with wounds and bandages he wouldn't have shown me any of it. And the long sleeves that he was wearing even when it was warm outside were proof of that.

I've spent the following month sobering up. Trying to keep the withdrawal symptoms to a minimum while making sure that Jungkook's anxiety wasn't spinning out of control either. Getting a part-time job at a supermarket was humbling, to say the least. But no one was prouder to unload boxes from the trucks and to put stuff on shelves than I was.

Nonetheless, I'd be a hypocrite if I didn't admit that Jungkook was justifiably irritated since I was following him around every free minute I had because I was afraid he'll magically bump into a dealer that'll end his sobriety in a heartbeat.

After he was able to blink again, I started going to classes regularly because he did too. And the happiest he's been was when he did have a doctor's notice for Mrs. Choi and in his words: "She finally couldn't say a damn thing because it'd make her look bad."

But he didn't say those words to me, but to V instead.

We've spent time together like before we'd ever struck the deal. And V and I didn't spend one second alone anymore, but no one wanted to bring out the fact that despite being in the same room most of the time, we barely ever interacted.

Jungkook and I avoided bringing up Jay or anything connected to him to the gang like the plague. Regardless if they probably knew something was up after seeing Jungkook's eye and scars. And after they've come to the realization that Jay was not coming back on their own, coupled with the fact that Jungkook didn't have a dealer anymore... they've stopped asking or talking about him at all as well. It was like telling them without actually saying a thing. Either way, when the police has shown up, they didn't find any evidence that could possibly make them link us or anyone to his or the other multiple disappearances.

And mundane normalcy ensued.

I didn't force myself on Jungkook no matter how much I wanted him to want me.

We weren't officially together, but I couldn't find it in me to let him believe he wasn't mine.

I'd think it's selfish and then when I'd get ready to tell him that he's free of any obligation towards me, I'd change my mind at the last second.

I've changed my mind every day for weeks.

And telling him not to date was selfish.

But I was unselfish when it came to everything else.

Or that's what Bambi wanted me to believe.

"This place is the bomb." He excitedly explained, walking backward on a busy street.

"Jimin, you'll hit someone..." Jungkook warned him.

I smirked, mocking: "Really? Did you just say a hair-cutting place is 'the bomb'?"

He halted and used both hands to present the sign above a sketchy door, saying: "No... It's literally called: The Bomb."

"As in what? They specialize in neutralizing the hair follicles?" I mumbled under my breath, frowning.

Jungkook was not in the mood for our pointless, yet endless bickering so he went in while Jimin was still trying to explain how it was more about the people working there and less about the customers,or the hair treatments.

Seeing him do that, made me give up my argument which was: "Who's paying these bomb people and how would I know that was the meaning without going in? Isn't the sign supposed to make me go in first?", and instead, I followed Jungkook and let Jimin think he's beat me.

The inside seemed to be stuck in some sort of retro dimension. The dim light, the lime yellows, and faded blues coupled with the dark wood were easy on the eye in an odd way. The paintings depicted women who must've been popular ages ago, but they did fit the ongoing theme. But the oddest part were the many female employees who were filing their nails on a big couch while talking smack. Well, that and the lack of customers. Their eyes lit up when they spotted Jimin, who started chatting with them as if he was one of them and being a student was his part-time job.

Jungkook sat down on the chair he's been offered and shifted in the seat nervously while the hairdresser assessed the state of his hair.

"How short, young man?"

"Up to... here." He pointed at the middle of his neck.

"If I cut nothing, or up to there, it'll change nothing. How about two fingers above that cause it'll grow back in a few weeks."

He nodded.

"Want to keep it parted from the middle? No bangs, dyeing, or strengthening?"

"No, just a bit shorter."

"Your choice."

She shrugged and then our eyes met in the mirror when she looked up, right before someone tapped me on the shoulder and had me turning around a bit too fast.

"Do you have an appointment?" She asked.

"Aa, no. I'm here with him," I pointed behind me, at Jungkook, "and that mess."

And then chin pointed at Bambi who was now braiding a black woman's hair with a comb between his lips while humming softly.

"You do look like the man Jimin's described to me..."

"Can you tell me... like every single word he's used to describe me?"

"Shanisha, get him!" Bambi shouted from the other corner of the room with a smile.

"My, my, you do have an appointment!" She exclaimed and pushed me towards the chair next to Jungkook.

When I tried to get up, she simply covered me with a black material that she tied to the chair.

'Is this legal?' I thought to myself, but then I heard Jungkook chuckling from the seat next to me.

So, I leaned back and watched him trying to hide his amusement by staring down at his phone.

'His face looks so much more beautiful after he's gained a bit of weight. Like he's younger than before.' I heard the joy in my own thoughts, but then the darkness followed with: 'He shuld've loked like this from the start...'

The woman was applying a white substance to my scalp without caring to ask for my permission while I was busy staring at Jungkook. But then it was hard to ignore.

"What is that? It burns. And what did Jimin tell you exactly?!" I curtly asked, trying to gain some control, but all I achieved, was:

"Relax, honey Boo, I'm giving some color to your life." Shanisha let me know with a thick accent which made me think that her life might have too much color for me.

"Color to my life..." I repeated, disheartened. Feeling like I've made a grave mistake by letting Jimin take care of everything.

"Yes, honey Boo. You are so tall and handsome, but you got no color to yo cheeks." She lightly slapped them to emphasize that.

"How will dying my hair bring color to my cheeks?!" I retorted, outraged, and then relaxed when Jungkook's muffled chuckles made it to my ears.

Her black hands worked expertly. It was like she wasn't touching my hair and that made me soon forget that she was there at all.

I had to admit she was good, but I wouldn't say it.

"Mhm, I see that there is some color in yo life already." She mumbled at some point.

"..."

A happy Jimin walked up between the two chairs and asked:

"How's it going, girls?"

"I will be done soon." The woman that was cutting Jungkook's hair answered, sounding bored out of her mind.

Shanisha however, was upset with Jimin: "He told me he didn't have an appointment. I almost chased him away with the hairdryer."

"I kinda made him one without his approval." He apologetically explained, lowering his head under Shanisha's intense stare.

"I see... He came here only so he could stare at the long-haired boy."

I turned with one arched eyebrow, ready to tell her to mind her business, but she grabbed my head by the sides so fast to keep it facing the mirror that I was surprised nothing popped.

"Don't worry, you tall fool, I'll make your face stand out so the long-haired boy will want to crane his neck back to look up at your new hairdo."

"Excuse me?" My voice got screechy without my will.

Jimin laughed and Jungkook did too.

And I smiled, unable to get mad. Yet, for a second I caught her staring directly at my face in the mirror and as if I embodied her for a moment, I saw myself too. Head turned towards Jungkook like a tall fool. Smiling every time he smiled. Not bothering to stand up for myself, so I wouldn't upset him. Going as far as to not really care if she shaved my head off or not, as long as he was still beside me.

'I mean... she's not wrong, but...'

Faced forwards on purpose this time while the smell of whatever chemical she was using to burn my scalp overpowered the floral perfume that the whole place was soaked in.

Resuming to talking to her in my head since I couldn't say it out loud: 'It doesn't matter how much I stare at him or what color my hair is, ever since he's been sober and after he's made a deal with the murderer me, Jungkook has been avoiding my eyes like the plague.'

I sighed and then spotted Jimin passing Shanisha a blue tube.

One eyebrow up and lips parted, I tried to get his attention with a simple: "Bambi?"

He was speaking with her too softly to not hear me, but he kept pointing at my head so it was obviously about me.

"A...Bambi?" I tried again.

And frowned when that got me nothing.

"Bambi!"

He jumped as if my calling him tickled.

The pink-haired boy leaned by my left with a nervous grin two seconds later.

"Yes, Namjoon?"

"Tell me she's not about to dye my hair blue."

"Don't worry, I'm not going to tell you that."

I sighed at his excitment.

"Is she going to though?" I mumbled.

He nodded and I hung my head low in defeat.

That's when I heard Jungkook's voice: "Blue like veins, ain't that fitting?"

I was staring down at the black material with wide eyes and an aching chest after his words have hit exactly where it was already hurting.

Shanisha grabbed my hair and pulled it back up in a matter of seconds, exclaiming: "Eyes up, sailor."

Not too many minutes later, Jungkook's hair looked way tidier even though all he's requested was a trim. The wavy strands and the natural volume framed his face as he chewed on some of the candy that Jimin's received from the other women. And when Bambi got bored, he gathered Jungkook's hair from the sides and pulled them back in a small ponytail.

He thought it was embarrassing for some reason so he kept trying to untie it but Jimin wouldn't let him.

The ladies praised Jimin's simple but effective styling from afar, which got Jungkook to be less aggressive in his rejection.

But all I could see was the black and blue checkered sleeves sliding off until they reached his elbows as he reached behind to stop Jimin from doing anything else to his hair. All I could see were the faint scars decorating his milky skin reflecting in the round, big mirror.

It turned this innocent moment into a painful one just like that. And I almost wanted to reach forwards and cover his arms. To protect him from the eyes of those gossipy women. But when no one's said anything, I thought I shouldn't either.

It was only after my hair was blue and in a different shape that it dawned on me that he might've forgotten, for a moment, to cover his arms up like he's been doing every day and now, I had the urge to keep them covered too. Not because I thought they were ugly on him, but because I knew he didn't like them.

Like that could erase the past.

Like he wasn't seeing them every time he changed clothes, took a shower, or touched his skin.

Like we were normal students in a normal world.

'How long will this last?'

I wondered as the ladies clapped at the result of Shanisha's hard work and catcalled me.

Jimin elegantly bowed when he revealed Jungkook's tiny ponytail as if they haven't seen it until now.

"It's in style."

One of them told us, pointing at a magazine that was probably twenty years old.

"Really?" He sounded doubtful but kept a small smile.

He's been smiling a lot lately. But it came off a bit anxious. To me, it felt like it was out of habit and not out of genuine emotion.

Like a protective barrier that he was now using against everyone as if to say: I'm fine. I'm happy. Don't need to ask.

He was using it against me too and it was irritating, but it was also...so pretty. Which is why I was staring at him alongside the ladies.

"Should I keep it like this from now on?" He was joking but the women couldn't tell.

"Yea. Yea." One said, waving her hand.

"Rock it as you mean it, boy!" Another encouraged him.

"And when you take it off, you'll have more volume."

"More?" He asked, looking concerned.

I smiled at his animated expression.

Jimin was picking hairs off his shirt.

And I turned to Shanisha to thank her since she's been standing behind me the whole time. But her crossed arms didn't seem very inviting.

"It's new for me, but I think it fits me. Somewhat. So, thanks."

"You're welcome." She said, looking nearly upset.

"Did I do anything rude or...?"

"No, you're just a sad sight to behold."

"I am a what?"

"Namjoon, let's go, I'm so hungry!" Bambi yelled from far away once more.

I turned around and they were already at the door, waving.

But I let them go ahead and when they were gone, I turned to Shanisha like I had something to prove. But I was talking to myself more so than to her.

"I know. I know I'm a fool. You don't have to point it out to me. I'm self-aware."

"Young man such as yourself should go jumping from flower to flower. Not pine like a..."

"What makes you think I didn't jump?" I stepped up to her and then heard the bell from the door tinkling. Regardless, I kept going: "If you think young people choose to suffer then you must have had a wonderful life, and honestly, I envy you. But that doesn't change the fact that it's a rigid, ignorant point of view."

"Namjoon, what are you doing?" Jimin pulled on my sweatshirt, but I shrugged him off.

"Your friend is rude and..." One of the older women pointed out, but when Shanisha spoke, she shut up.

"I'll keep that in mind."

Her furrowed brows and defensive stance made my blood boil.

"No, don't just say that. Listen. I have the same nervous system as you. If I am young and someone stabs me, it still hurts. I'm not protected by the barrier of youth! Or did you erase your childhood memories? Or maybe it was painless? Man, must've been nice to be you."

"Namjoon..." Jimin pleaded, trying to pull me towards the exit, "calm down, she didn't mean anything..."

"Of course, she didn't. Why would she? It's the rest of the world that is wrong, but never her."

And it was red, her face, the paintings, and then the wall.

'I feel sick all of a sudden.' I thought.

"Namjoon?"

And Jungkook's voice was the one that had rung through the grave silence.

I immediately walked up to him with sure, desperate steps.

And his clear, innocent face had me breathing in and out with ease.

"What are you doing?" He asked, looking straight at me. Finally, allowing me to breathe.

"Don't untie your hair," I told him.

"That's not what I..."

"You look cute like that."

"Thanks?"

"Let's go." Jimin ended our conversation by pushing me out from behind.

Bambi didn't rat me out for some reason, although I was walking behind the two of them and he had all the time in the world.

I kept my hands in the pockets of the black hoodie, and the large hood on.

The sea of people, the bright colors, and the loud voices coming from the sea of people that surrounded us. They made me feel unsettled, vulnerable, afraid that I might get stabbed by someone while they were walking, and then the attacker will keep walking after planting a knife inside me.

I knew I was being irrational, which is why I didn't voice my concern. But I also knew it was not that far-fetched because that exact thing had happened before with a junkie who'd covered his face with a surgical mask and had stabbed me in broad daylight. After all, someone tipped him off that I was delivering pills and it might've been the guy that I was delivering to or a coincidence. I never found out. I was too busy keeping myself from bleeding out. Incapable to follow the man who started running the other way after having stabbed a fifteen-year-old to steal his goods.

"Sushi? Some salmon with..." Bambi pulled me out of memory lane, walking backward once again.

And almost bumped into a stranger.

"Watch it," I told him, grabbing him by the arm at record speed. And then casually pushed him forwards.

It was brief, but my reaction seemed to have scared Jimin since he'd barely grazed the guy's chest and I'd already pulled him aside.

"That's some fast reflexes..." He praised.

"Thanks."

"No, really. How did your arm reach out so fast?"

"Luck."

Jungkook kept walking. Unfazed. And quiet.

So very quiet.

We ended up eating pizza in the first place that wasn't packed.

The tables were too small and the pizzas were too big for the tables.

"Isn't it a nice color?" Bambi asked Jungkook although his mouth was full.

Hence, he only tilted his head to the right and to the left.

"I think I've found my calling." He dramatically announced, but Jungkook kept on chewing like that was not important news.

"I'm sorry to break it to you Bambi, but your major won't get you a hairdresser certificate. That's another school entirely."

"I didn't say I'll pursue it." He argued, crossing his arms.

"Keep it as a hobby?" Jungkook suggested, mouth still half full.

"You don't like it though, do you?" Bambi asked me, pouting.

"I do," I said, eying a slice with lots of pepperoni on it.

"That's why you put your hoodie on as soon as we stepped out of the place?"

I was about to explain and then Jungkook did it in my stead:

"He did it to cast a shadow over his face, not to hide his hair."

When Jungkook finished speaking, I leaned back in my chair, feeling as if I had just been slapped.

"Aa...I forgot all about that. But it's not like anyone he knows from back home would be roaming around here."

"You never know." Jungkook went on sounding indifferent, yet, knowledgeable, looking down at the pizza the entire time.

As I was trying to keep my mouth shut, Jungkook reached for the pizza slice I'd been eyeing. And before I thought it over, my hand was on his hand.

Jungkook looked up, pizza crumbs hanging onto the edges of his lips and puffy cheeks.

"Come with me to the bathroom," I demanded.

He visibly swallowed whatever was in his mouth.

"Guys... Let's not..." Bambi held both hands up, but when we kept staring at each other, he waved them between us.

"Come." I repeated.

Jungkook got up as soon as I retracted my hand. Heading straight towards the bathroom without uttering one word.

"Namjoon... Please don't fight with him again. I know Jungkook's been weird... but you guys were doing so well!"

"Don't worry. We're not fighting." I assured him.

After all, I wasn't sure what was the problem either. I only knew he's been making jabs at me about being a murderer every chance he got. It was done naively, so naively, that it seemed silly to react. But it had been happening so consistently that it made me just mad enough to make me want to touch him.

I didn't know if he'd noticed the pattern we were developing at this point. I wished I was oblivious to it as well.

But since I've been staring at him like a creep for the past weeks, I've noticed that he's been oscillating between smiling shyly, to pointing out my skills with a knife before the guys when I was merely cutting a hamburger in our dorm. His other passive-aggressive trait I've grown to hate most was that he avoided being alone with me if he could help it.

It was all done subtly but it was obvious if one paid enough attention.

I haven't fucked him once ever since I told him I wanted him to kiss me because I've saved him, although he pointed out that he didn't want me to several times.

But it didn't seem to matter. Nothing seemed to matter.

He was smiling, laughing, and blushing at me easily. But he was also always on edge, always fast to pass judgment to make me feel bad about how I used to be.

Or who, deep down, I still was.

'Maybe that's why he's the only one who can get on my nerves with just a few words.'

He and a bald, middle-aged guy were washing their hands when I stepped inside the bathroom.

I didn't bother to pretend like I needed to do anything but talk to the guy with the small ponytail, wearing a checkered shirt, and wiping the food off his face.

The other guy did notice I was leaning on the opposing wall of the sinks and mirrors, staring straight at him. Basically, telling him to beat it without having to say it.

He left in a hurry because of that.

And at last, we were alone.

Jungkook slapped his hands to get the water off, leaned against the counter of the sink, and then looked in my direction, like an afterthought.

No, looked behind me or at my chest, where his eye level was.

Avoiding the face.

I started to consider the idea that he's been reading my emotions by looking at my mouth lately and not my eyes.

He didn't ask what I wanted to talk about. I doubted he cared at this point.

Supporting himself on his hands, he placed one leg in front of the other and leaned his torso slightly back. Two round eyes fixated on the ground now. An almost childish face. The cupid's bow of his lips seemed more pronounced as he parted his lips and kept them like that.

He looked comfortable.

Despite him being the one who was keen on reminding me that I've killed people.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror behind him.

A tall, dark-hooded figure whose lips were the only ones that weren't obscured by the hood and the darkness of the dirty green bathroom. Looking just like a dealer, a junkie, or a murderer.

Not like a young student.

Not like Shanisha naively assumed I was.

If I would've looked like Jungkook and before him, there was someone looking like me, I would be afraid.

But he didn't seem to be.

'Did you make peace with death, Jungkook? Is that it?' I smiled at the thought.

"You keep pointing stuff out to people lately."

He nodded lightly, looking at the floor for a moment before looking back up through heavy eyelashes, right at my neck.

"Don't." I went on.

"Why not?"

"I don't like it."

"Why is that?" He innocently inquired.

My smile grew wider on its own.

The tone he was using was entitled. Almost bratty.

He didn't tell me all that Jay had done to him while he kept him tied up in his room, but the moment that man had died, a new Jungkook was born. One that I wanted to grab by the hair to have an easier time shoving his head in the toilet bowl of this restaurant while I fucked him until he cried.

I opened my eyes that have closed on their own to imagine how that would go down.

'No. Don't get tricked. This is just misdirected anger. He couldn't fight back that guy; he couldn't do anything so now he's... using me as...'

"Why is that?" He repeated, sounding less naive and more like he overtly desired to make me mad.

"Jungkook." I breathed out.

"Yes?"

And another man came in and went right into one of the five stalls.

Jungkook stared at his shoes while moving the foot that was resting on top of the other back and forth.

We both listened to the man piss, come out, wash his hands fast because he's realized he intruded on something, and leave.

When the sound of the door echoed in the silent bathroom, his foot stopped moving and his eyes slowly but surely were following the light green tiles toward where I used to be. His eyes widened when my shoes came into view way too fast to react.

Walked up to him in a heartbeat and with my chest being mere millimeters away from his face as he retracted his extended legs, I was looking down at the top of his head.

Breathed the scent that only Jungkook had.

I didn't touch him in any way.

I stood before him.

Towering over him.

"Jungkook," I repeated. Lower.

"Yes?"

Letting myself indulge a bit when his tone remained the same, I took a hold of his chin and forced his head to face up, so he'd have to look into my eyes.

And told him: "You've helped spill that blood. Eight people in total. That is on your hands too."

His eyes remained wide as the lips parted.

Breathed on my chin and bottom lip a total of one as I leaned down.

I didn't get to blink twice before he'd pushed me away with his whole strength. Forearm first.

I was so surprised that I did take a step back before steadying myself and catching the fist that was about to hit my chest. I used it to turn him around. Pinning it to his lower back. And pushed him forward with my pelvis. His middle hit the counter and the upper part of his body fell slightly forward from me pushing him further into it.

Front against his lower back. Back on his back. Wrist in my hold. I grabbed his chin again and made him look at himself in the mirror.

"There's nothing wrong with defending yourself, Jungkook."

He angrily scoffed and tried to shake his head away from my hold and also slide his hands out, but all he managed was to make me hold him tighter. Closer. So close that I couldn't help but feel the curves of his ass and the arch of his back.

"Jungkook, get it through your thick skull that it was self-defense, and stop annoying me. I'm not someone you want to annoy."

"Oh, really? If you want to get rid of me do it faster, I'm kinda bored of being... sob..." I lost it and pushed his head into the sink, where he finished the word with a weak:"...er."

I turned on the tap and watched him struggle as his face and hair got wet.

Still trying to break himself free while I kept his head under the flowing water by keeping a hold on the side of his face.

'If this wasn't a public place...ah...No. It's better that we're in a public place.'

Leaned down to his level and used that as an excuse to rub my clothed erection against his ass and back.

Shut my eyes and took a deep breath in and out after I turned off the tap.

And asked: "Why are you angry at me? What did I do so wrong?"

"Even if you had your reasons, that doesn't change the facts."

"What facts?"

"You've killed for money, Namjoon. Your whole life! You're nothing but a hired assassin who sold drugs on the side to feel better."

My eyes widened and a sound that I couldn't explain came out of me. Like a muffled unknown letter that made my grip lessen before someone came in the bathroom.

"Guys..."

I looked up at the mirror and Jimin was watching us, worried. Holding onto his jacket as if he was hugging it.

And I caught myself in the mirror for a brief second too.

But it was enough. Cause there it was, deer in the headlights, eyes appearing red because of the wall lamp and the lack of light. Or maybe it was a hallucination. But I caught it and I wanted to forget it as soon as I saw it.

I looked afraid. I looked vulnerable.

I looked like someone Jungkook could escape from which he did as he took advantage of Jimin's arrival and slipped out of my hold, pushed me aside, and stormed out.

Jimin didn't follow him.

But murmured, a tired: "What did you do this time?"

I covered my face and let out a sob with no tears.

Just one.

Before I told Jimin: "Go get him."

"Namjoon..."

"Go get him," I repeated with no strength behind the request.

"You want to apologize?"

"No... I want to hurt him." I admitted with a choked tone.

"You don't mean that." Jimin audibly smiled.

"No. I think I mean it a bit."

I nodded to myself since I knew anything sexual would be hurting him more right now.

"He's traumatized Namjoon... about whatever you guys did that day."

"And I am not?" I heard my voice crack and that had me lowering my hand further and pulling on the hoodie. To cover something. Anything.

"I don't know how to help him or you, because neither will tell me what's happened."

"It's better if you don't know." I curtly assured him.

"But whatever you've done or he's done... I think can be forgiven."

I audibly grinned behind the palms of my hands, overflowing with irony.

"No. That's the thing. That's the only unforgivable thing on this planet."

"Nothing is unforgivable, Namjoon."

"This is. This is bad, Jimin... Bad..."

"Even if you've killed someone."

I looked through the cracks of my fingers with still irises at a collected Jimin, a kind Jimin, a patient and forgiving Jimin.

He went on: "You probably had a good reason and Jungkook knows it."

'What the fuck are you?' That is what I wanted to ask.

But in the darkness of the bathroom, leaning on the counter's edge, I uncovered my face, bent forwards, and looked up at him from under the hood.

And I whispered with a voice that I didn't recognize as mine while I felt like I was no longer human. But an ugly, small, weak, wounded monster seeking an answer from a human:

"...then why won't he forgive me?"

Jimin's well-intentioned mask cracked for only a second before a warm smile tried to mask the fear and confusion from his eyes. But I caught it.

"He probably doesn't know why himself. But he might not be able to forgive himself for putting you in that situation."

"He did say... that..." I swallowed dryly, and brought a palm up to my face, so Jimin wouldn't see it, as I kept swallowing nothing, feeling thirsty, "... that he thinks he... he's not worth saving..."

"There you go then. Now you know why."

Jimin smiled.

I nodded.

And for the first time since he came in, he looked at the door.

"I better go find him, though. Sober or not, he still can't remember directions to save his life."

Before Jimin walked out, I murmured a shy: "Thank you."

"That's what friends are for. Right?"

And he left me there, in that dark room by myself.

I turned towards the mirror and washed my face that was just a black hole now.

'A good reason... yeah... Fred told me that whether I kill them or someone else does, it makes no difference. They'll die anyway. But it'll make the difference between life and death for me and that's all that matters. But I couldn't get hired back then, but now I can... now...I can change...no. I should change.'

I looked at the dark hole and told it: "I can change."

But the hole didn't change.

The void stared back at me with indifference.

The road back to uni wasn't short and no matter how well-intentioned Jimin was when he kept trying to cheer me up, all that achieved was to make me feel more exhausted.

When tomorrow arrived, Jungkook was back to pretending that nothing's happened.

Like he's been doing every time after we've fought in private.

Since it was easier that way.

Since he could hurt me more if he kept pretending that he wanted to be my friend.

We went to class together and then hung out. The three of us. And then the six of us.

Martin adored Jimin. Even Dwayne was warming up to him.

And Bambi was a happy camper.

He had friends now. And though he said he only talks the personal stuff with me, he still seemed closer to everyone else than I was.

Besides Jungkook, who talked to V more than anyone else.

The only one who was stuck in a corner now, sipping beer, was an exhausted V. The one who has been having a mild case of insomnia ever since I killed our dealer and threatened every single one who ever offered any of them a pill or a smoke.

"Did you watch this one?" Bambi asked while clicking on a laptop.

"Island stuff, not my jam." Martin shook his head but Dwayne was intrigued.

Jungkook was lying on his back on the lower level of the bed bunk, where Martin usually slept. Studying for an upcoming exam while biting on a pencil without shame.

I was watching him, pretending to be thinking while staring into space. But he knew I was staring at his mouth. And I knew that he knew.

And that's probably why he was doing it. But what he didn't know was that at this point, I didn't care if he'd bite on my dick or suck it. As long as his teeth were the ones doing it.

"Namjoon?"

"..."

"Namjoon? Buddy... what got you in the slumps?"

Martin's stick-like legs blocked the view before he squatted down.

I was sitting down on the floor, back against the wall, doing nothing but fantasizing. But I couldn't tell him that.

"I'm tired."

"Get some zzz's then."

"Not on my bed!" Dwayne quickly added.

"Jungkook is using that...."

Before Martin got to finish that, I was already lying next to Jungkook. He pretended that he didn't care that I was taking over half the bed and blocked his exit.

He scooted further to the right, away from me and closer to the wall, turning on his belly, and continuing to bite on the yellow pencil. Hair in a small ponytail and eyes focused on the notepad. He was pretending that my presence wasn't a hindrance like an overworked actor.

The room went quiet all of a sudden, but I didn't bother to check why. All I did was lower my upper half so that my face was right next to Jungkook's face and right beside that damn pencil.

Watching his mouth moving from up close.

Hence, he decided to take real bites and spit out the splinters. Not straight at my face, but I assumed that if that happened accidentaly, it'd be a win in his mind.

Jungkook didn't glance at me once.

But I didn't look away either.

"So, which ones do you guys want to watch?" Bambi broke the silence.

"The... a... the island one," Dwane replied.

"No! I'm not watching no coconut expedition bro," Martin argued.

"They have to do missions and stuff. See?" Jimin informed him as if he knew that was a selling point.

"What kind of missions?" Martin sounded intrigued now, although he's the one who kept rejecting that show for weeks. And yet Jimin brought it up as soon as they finished another one.

"Like swimming fast. Jumping over stuff without falling, puzzles, and..."

The door got slammed shut. So, I looked around the room only to realize that V left without saying a word.

They all watched the door for a while and to my and everyone's astonishment, Jimin got up and ran after him.

I sighed and asked Martin to hand me my phone. I let it rest on my belly in case Jimin needed me and then resumed watching Jungkook.

It took like half an hour of constant staring until Jungkook had enough, and whispered: "How much of a pervert are you?"

"From a scale of one to ten? About one hundred and forty-seven."

"That's very specific." He mumbled.

"Of course it is. I am a man with a very specific taste."

"A beating heart is a common preference."

He didn't look at me when he said that, but he knew the effect it had on me so he put the pencil down and only talked after a few seconds of burning silence.

"Go sit on the floor." He bluntly ordered me.

"No." I replied.

"You're making them uncomfortable."

"I don't care."

"You're annoying."

"You're cute."

He didn't expect that. So, his eyes widened just for a moment before he shut the notebook and tried to walk over me and off the bed but I shoved him back with one small push.

He growled and tried again and again. Only for me to push him back into the empty spot. I saw him hitting his head on the underside of the bed above this one, so I made sure to push him down every time he got on his knees instead of when he was half on top of me.

Martin and Dwayne didn't comment on it and continued to be immersed in the show that they were now watching without Bambi.

But when Jungkook was breathing heavily on his belly by my side, I was proud of the way I'd managed to keep him there.

That was until he loudly said: "Is this why you work out? So, you can push smaller people around however you want?"

'Ah. I feel warm all of a sudden.' I thought.

And in order to not let him win again, I casually, honestly replied:

"Actually. Yes. How did you know?"

He frowned and I picked up Bambi's call after it rang a total of two times with a smile.

"Hello?"

"Tell the guys I'm sorry for leaving like that."

"They're watching the coconut show without you so I think they're the ones who owe you an apology..."

"Assholes," Bambi whispered.

Dwayne and Martin shouted two: "Sorry, Jimin.", with their eyes still glued to the laptop screen.

That's when Jungkook attempted to get off bed for the eighth time.

He put one knee between my legs so I just shut my legs together, trapping it, and made him have to put his hands on my chest to keep his face from smashing into mine.

Growling louder from above me now, trying to pull his leg out and secure a hand by my body instead of on it.

"Where are you? Do you need my help?" I casually asked Bambi.

"No. I'll tell you about it later."

"Are you coming back?"

Jungkook made himself fall to the side again because he kept failing at pulling his leg out so I turned along with him. Of course, with his knee still secured between mine.

We were too close so he made use of the fact that my body was blocking the guys' view and started hitting me in the chest with one weak fist.

"I will after I'll buy some snacks." I heard Jimin say.

"Alright. I might not be here when you'll return though."

Jungkook's fist stopped punching and his head froze on the mattress because of what he had just heard.

"I have to go talk something over with Jungkook. Just the two of us, though."

"Not again! Namjoon...try and let time heal the wounds and..."

I cut him off, sounding almost happy about our upcoming conversation.

"Don't worry. We're fine."

"That's what you said last time and then I found you holding him bent down over..."

"Gotta go."

I hung up and tossed the phone on the bed. And with a vice grip on his wrist, pulled him out of the bed. He fell on his knees first and had no choice but to start walking right away since I didn't stop heading towards the door.

'Actor of the year.' I thought.

"Let go!" He screamed, hitting me with his freehand.

"See you later guys." I told the duo who just answered with a simultaneous, dumbfounded: "Later."

"Stop it!"

Students watched as Jungkook kept hitting my back and arm with his fist and tried to break himself free every three seconds by coming to a surprise halt.

No one dared to help him so we made it safely and loudly into my dorm room.

I shut the door after I pushed him in and then blocked it with my body.

He was out of breath and yet had enough energy left to keep repeating: "Let me out. Let me out. Let me out!"

"I want to talk," I told him with utmost seriousness.

"I don't want to talk."

He tried to peel me off the door before those words have even reached my brain, but it was really hard for me to keep myself from grabbing the back of his neck to make him look at me. Since he's been staring at my neck the whole day.

"Talk to me, Jungkook."

He took one step back and yelled, hairs falling over his face as he did so: "I've been talking to you!"

"No, that's not talking. That's punishing me with cowardly tricks."

"Cowardly tricks?!" That made him start punching my chest with girly fists all over again and all I could do was sigh.

"If I kill myself, will that bring all those people back?" He ceased moving for a moment after I asked that and then started hitting again.

"Or do I have to go and apologize to all the families of the addicts who stole their money, or stole their shit to pawn? Cause those are the types of people that buy when they don't have any money. Or perhaps you want me to apologize to the ones who've murdered innocent people because they felt like Fred 'wouldn't mind'?"

The hitting continued.

"Like, what in your mind would absolve me of what I've done?"

He stopped moving most likely because he got tired.

And used one long exhale to respond: "Nothing. It's done. It's over. Nothing will bring them back..."

"Then what do you want from me?"

"Just leave me alone!"

"Why? Will that help you forget? Or blame me for weighing your importance higher than that of literal murderers?!"

"..."

"Or are you trying to make me mad just so I'd hurt you? Aha! Yes, if I get mad and do something I'll regret, then that makes you the good guy. Then you can hate me and feel better about yourself. Is that it?"

"Shut up..."

"Am I right? Or... am I right?"

And he looked into my eyes for once and what I discovered wasn't hate. But I didn't know what it was either.

"Find me weed."

"...what..."

"Or pills."

'Did I hear that right?' I thought, blinking multiple times as if that'd help me figure it out.

"Find me anything! I just want to forget!" He took a hold of my sweatshirt and pulled me towards him. "I can't stand it...I can't stand looking at my legs and arms. I can't stand you! I can't stand the same day repeating over and over. And that... Good for nothing, Jimin! He's so happy all the time, I just want to..!"

'Ah... You're finally showing me the real you. This is it. You're cornered. Without anywhere to escape. And so empty. Just like me. A black hole that would suck anything in. But there's nothing there Jungkook and you won't accept it. You can't. I get it...it hurts too much...I get it. But you don't have a dealer anymore.' I thought while listening to him complain.

He was pulling the material towards and away from him while I smiled a small smile. Not moving a muscle. As he shouted at the ceiling:

".... Talking about the same things, in a different order! All the time! Like how is no one noticing it? And you've killed people. People are being killed right now. And we're talking about what coffee to drink after class! Like how can that be allowed in this universe? Who made it and why am I here? I, just why? Tell me why?"

'... but I still have you. And that might be all I need. You're everywhere and everything.' I thought as I reached out and caressed the right side of his face.

"Isn't it driving you crazy too? Like who cares about grades? Why do we have to work for money? Aren't humans inherently at the top of the food chain? Aren't we entitled to water and food, at least? You got a job at a freaking store for fuck's sake! You used to be a drug dealer! How do you move on from that and then live a normal life? How is anyone alright with living the same old boring day? How is everyone ignoring how nothing changes?! No matter what you do. You're still you, doing the same thing or something slightly different, and...."

A chuckle escaped and that shut him right up.

He let go of my sweatshirt and simply stared at me, leering. Knowing he didn't have to ask.

I leaned back against the door, letting go of his cheek in the process.

"You're mad that I've killed your dealer? Is that it? Mad you have to live like everyone else?"

He shut his eyes and kept them closed when he avoided my questions and instead said:

"I can't do it, Namjoon. Every day is the same..."

"Every day was the same when you were high too."

"Yeah, but the most boring stuff felt like... something, like I was able to feel stuff. Now all I'm feeling is anger or fear.Or nothing..."

"You do know it takes like months for your body to start producing dopamine again, don't you?"

He squinted his eyes open as if what I had just said had made something malfunction inside his brain.

"What the hell are you talking about?" He quickly inquired

"The thing that you were feeling was an increase in dopamine. You've been replacing the one your body normally produces with the one the weed had, and now that it's gone, your body needs time to realize that it should start producing some on its own again. The normal amount, the... natural amount. When it does, the boring, normal stuff will start to feel good again."

"And when's that?"

I shrugged.

"A few months? A year? But if you can hold on until then, you'll be able to..."

He crossed his arms before I got to finish.

"Na-ah. No! A year? Like this? I'd rather die."

I grabbed a hold of his shoulders and tried to keep his eyes from wandering around like he was bouncing from one thought to another.

"Listen to me. After that, you won't be a slave to a chemical. You won't crave it."

"Aa, yes I will."

"Jungkook."

"Namjoon."

"We have a deal."

He looked to his right, smiled, and then spat between us, saying: "Fuck you."

"You owe me."

"Fuck you and your deal."

"You're not allowed to take any type of drug anymore," I ordered him again more so than reminded him.

He shook his body out of my hold and tried to push me towards the wall with his right hand, saying:

"You're useless. Move aside."

I grinned a sad grin.

"Move!" He shouted when his strength didn't move me an inch.

And as the reverberation of his shout was still in the air, I softly slammed the right side of his face into the wall to my left and kept his face and the rest of his body flat against it.

"Namjoon..."

It was said lightly. A scared tone. Convinced that when my hand slipped under his t-shirt, traveled from his naked stomach up to his neck, and fingers wrapped around his windpipe, that I'll start doing him right then and there.

And he was right.

I wanted to.

But I was too angry and I was sure I'll break him in half.

So, I leaned in and whispered right into his ear as I kept his head still.

"You're not allowed to find another dealer. Do you hear me? Cause if you do, I'll kill him."

"Please... don't say... that...."

And I squeezed and lifted him slightly off the ground as he held his breath and made the most adorable, little sound.

"You'll stay clean and alive. If you got a problem with that then you'll have to kill me."

I let him down when I thought I got the self-control to leave.

But then I breathed in his scent, getting lost in the sight of his exposed neck, and found myself pushing his body against the wall harder by pushing my body into his.

One hand still at the front of his neck and the other moving the hair out of the way, I inhaled the smell of the back of his head, leaned down, and bit his nape.

He didn't scream even though I'd sunk my teeth into his skin like an animal.

He moaned.

And I got hard.

But as blood was flowing down, I stood still.

And tried to breathe some sense into my spinning mind.

"You'll be fine. I promise." I told him, reassuringly. Softly.

And when a sob escaped him, I embraced him.

He didn't turn around at all. He kept crying with his head facing the wall and I kept my arms wrapped around him. We both slid down until we were on the ground.

Wondering if this is what he wanted me to do this entire time.

'Why do you have the exact same illness my mom had? That's the question I have for this universe... And I have no idea how to cure you of this one Jungkook.'

When someone knocked on the door, Jungkook wiped his tears quickly, shoved my hands away from him, opened the door, and left.

I was sitting on the floor, banging on the wall with a light fist while Bambi was still at the threshold, unsure if he should follow Jungkook or help me.

"He's fine. We're fine. Everyone's fine!" I yelled out, continuing to bang on the wall.

"Taehyung's not fine."

I stopped to look at Bambi. He looked tired too. Like all the liveliness he's been displaying was a farce and he could now show me that taking care of others was no easy feat.

"Good."

"No. It's not good Namjoon. He can't sleep at all."

"Good."

"Stop it. It's not..."

I faced forward and cut him off

"Get him to a doctor."

"You think I didn't suggest that? But he doesn't want to go."

"That's retarded."

I found myself smirking at the thought of him refusing medically prescribed sleeping pills. But having no issues whatsoever in taking the illegal ones.

"Now tell me why was Jungkook crying? And if the reason has anything to do with you beating the wall..."

Automatically decided it was best to change the subject.

"Why have you not come in already?"

"I can't. I promised the guys I'll go watch the show with them."

"Then go."

"After you tell me what happened. I will."

The edge to the words had me trying to put on a crooked smile that was weakened by his accusatory glare.

"Why do you look so frightened Bambi? Come on in."

I was joking, but when he didn't do it, I thought I'd hit the nail on the head by mistake. I tried to smile harder.

"Oh, I didn't do anything to him. We've talked. That's all. I now know what's wrong and I fixed it."

"You've already fixed it?" The incredulity in his voice was astronomical.

"I fixed it."

"And what was wrong... with Jungkook?"

"It's so simple." I let out a strained brief chuckle, punching the wall harder, and went on, "You won't believe it but he doesn't like being alive."

"..."

"It's this rare condition that psychiatrists mislabeled depression, but it's not really that. It's like... Hmmm... my father described it so well once. It's like being at a buffet and it's an all-you-can-eat buffet, but you don't like a single thing so you end up starving and dying. Or! You start eating stuff that you shouldn't be eating because those make you forget that you don't like anything at the buffet and you end up poisoning yourself slowly until you die. Ain't that a bit of a conundrum?"

I resumed hitting the wall with my fist after I said all of that in one go with a painful grin. Breathing shallowly.

"And how did you fix... that?"

"I told him he's not allowed to die unless he kills me first."

Jimin's mouth opened, but nothing came out. And after lightly punching the wall four more times, I looked back at the door but Jimin was already gone.

Let my hand and body slip to the ground, and used my head once, twice and as the crown started hurting, I started crying.

Wondering why I was even crying.

'I thought he was similar to mom, but I didn't know he was simply using the same means to escape it as she did. No. I wanted him to be just an addict. Simple, chemical addiction. Anxiety-ridden fucking addiction at best.'

The door was wide open, but no one has walked through it for the following hours.

And my crying probably echoed down the hallway, but no one cared.

I cried until I felt feverish. And kept crying until I fell asleep, holding on to the same wall, thinking: 'He'll kill me, won't he? Yeah. He will. And I won't even fight back. I'll just feel his arms touching me willingly for the first time and die. That's how I'll go and I think... I'm fine with that.'

Five hours later, my eyes opened while the room was still dimly lit and yet darker because I was being cloaked by someone's shadow.

I looked up and realized I'd been awoken by the most plain-looking-faced guy I've seen in my entire life and he wearing a lime-colored hoodie and light jeans no less. He said, a tone-deaf:

"Hello."

I twisted myself out of the uncomfortable position as the planks of the floor seemed to have rearranged my spine in some places and hurt it in others.

Trying to pinpoint where I'd seen him before.

He outstretched his hand and presented a white phone.

I looked at it and then back up at him. And squinted the sleepy eyes in confusion.

"Fred wants to talk."

"Who the fuck are you?"

He didn't answer and as I took the phone, it hit me: 'He's the guy who helped me off the bathroom floor when I'd blacked out months ago? Or was that someone else?'

"Hello?"

"Good morning, kid."

"Who's stone face?" I asked, pointing my chin at him, although Fred couldn't see me.

"Astrid?"

"Astrid, who?"

"A fellow peer of yours."

I rubbed the side of my face since it hurt from sitting on it and peeked around the room where Jimin was nowhere to be seen.

"Have you been spying on me?" I asked without feigning stupefaction.

"Is that how you call someone who keeps a fatherly eye on his child when he's far away from home?" Fred asked, while the sound of his pouring something also joined his voice but didn't overpower it.

"Yes. That's exactly how I'd call that, you sick fuc..."

I blinked and there it was.

Finally, I was on the receiving end of the barrel of a gun.

And one of my hands was holding a phone, while the other was numb.

Either way, Astrid was sitting out of reach. I had no chance of kicking it.

Like he knew he should.

"I don't get the courtesy of the last wish?" I asked Fred with no emotion whatsoever.

Feeling like my heart was about to explode before the bullet made contact with my head.

He burst into colorful laughter.

"You're not going to die Namjoon."

"I am not?"

"No. But someone else will."

"And who's that?"

"You tell me."

Astrid hasn't blinked once. Astrid did not seem like he needed to. Astrid didn't make one facial expression until now.

His face was a mask. His face was emotionless. His mask didn't seem like it had any cracks in it.

'This fucker... this fucker is a psychopath.' I thought, unconsciously clenching my jaw and the phone.

"What do you want to know?" I sounded casual, despite the pulsations from every black hole in my body.

"What was it...what was it..."

'Stop playing with my health old man, and just spit it out.'

Shut my eyes, trying to think of something to keep me calm, but no thought was soothing enough. Mainly because I doubted that Astrid wouldn't shoot if I as much as moved a muscle.

He was close enough to blow my brains out and yet, far enough to have the time to pull the trigger before I would've grazed the fucker's chalky spotless skin. And the fact that I was on the floor was not helping at all.

'Those black eyes... I don't want those to be the last eyes that I'll see before I go.' This thought came from somewhere inside the hole. It was faint. It was almost a whisper, but it made my whole body want to reach out and grab Astrid's neck even if that'd mean I'll get shot in the process.

However, everything that made me remain petrified was Fred, uttering the words:

"How about you tell me why the hell is my sister dead?!"

'Ah. I wanted Jungkook to kill me soon, but this... this... is less selfish, right? He won't feel any guilt. But I didn't even get to tell him I love him or kiss him. Why didn't I kiss him when I had the chance?'

"She was alive when I left."

I was ready for him to scream at the plain answer. Ready for his scream to make Astrid pull the trigger.

But he calmly continued and I got to take another borrowed breath.

"I know. That's why I told you that you're not the one ​​​​​who's going to die."

I filled up the silence in my head with the word that I'd heard him say when threatening someone way too many times before: 'Unless....'

"Unless you get me the head of the one who's done it."

"How would I know if I wasn't there, Fred?"

"Oh, you might not know now. But you will find out."

"Wasn't anyone watching her house?"

"What a good question, Namjoon. A very good question. But a better question would be: what do you think? Was anyone watching her friend's place?"

"Yes, there was." I sighed the obvious answer out and almost wanted to rub my forehead out of frustration, but then again, Astrid might've not liked that so I kept my hand one with the floor.

"Obviously. They've all claimed they didn't see anyone so now they can't see at all."

'Ah, shit. You've already killed all possible eyewitnesses.' I thought, getting a faint image of him surrounded by bloody corpses popping out in my mind's eye. Just one of the many repressed memories that I had of Fred and which showed up every time he mentioned doing something to anyone.

He went on: "But you, you tried your best to get her to come home. Didn't you?"

"Yes."

"And yet she's got a hole in her heart Namjoon."

"I'm sorry," I said, not feeling a thing but the pulsations.

"No. There's nothing to feel sorry about, after all, it wasn't you. You were there. Astrid confirmed it. And as long as you find who it was, you've got nothing to worry about."

"What if it was one of the guys who were keeping watch?"

"Them? Couldn't be. Cause you see, anyone with nerve endings would've confessed to their darkest little secrets in their place."

'Burned them? Skinned them? What the fuck will you do to me then?'

"I understand."

"No. You don't."

"I don't." I accepted that as fact, as soon as he said it.

"Correct. What you don't understand is that Astrid over there, say hi to him."

I opened my eyes even though I didn't really want to and as cheerily as I could, said: "Hi... Astrid."

He didn't move one millimeter.

"Yes, that one. He is a special fella. I'm sure you can tell just how special. And not only that, he knows all your new friends, your ex-lover, and the place you lay your head at night."

'No...' I thought quietly with dread. Feeling faint and nauseous at the same time.

"And they'll start suddenly disappearing one by one, like birds flying towards the sky unless you FIND THE ONE WHO'S KILLED, MY SISTER!"

"Yes, Fred."

There was a brief silence followed by a calm:

"It was a pleasure talking to you."

"It was a pleasure talking to you too." I heard myself repeating, though I didn't feel like I was in a body anymore.

"And next time, use the bed. It gets cold during the night and you might get sick."

"Thank you for your... concern." That was the best reply I could come up with, but he'd already hung up.

I wasn't stupid enough to move. Therefore, I wanted to make sure Astrid's gun was pointed somewhere else, by saying: "I'll do it. You probably heard everything, so you can put the gun away now."

He didn't react. I insisted:

"You can call him if you want to check. Here. Take the phone back."

As I was saying this, another phone started ringing.

He reached into one of his pockets and answered without looking.

Astrid put the gun inside the front pocket of his hoodie, grabbed the white phone from my hand, and headed toward the door.

But stopped at the threshold since he had to tell me: "You have five days until Kim Taehyung dies."

And I smiled.