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—how can i get him back?
OCTOBER 11: PARK JIMIN
==
"it's midnight, jimin."
he bites his lip, half in guilt and half in frustration that—that she would never understand what's happening to her son, even as they speak. and that practically drives him to the verge of insanity; because kim taehyung's mother should be just as involved as he and the other five are. but she isn't—she just can't see, and that's what breaks jimin's shell bit by bit.
"i know," he mumbles quietly, placing the half-empty bowls of twelve a.m. dinner in the sink. "but i—"
"where on earth do you have to be at this hour, jiminie?" mrs. kim whispers, elbows on the table. the dark bags under her eyes are only accentuated by the flush, pale light of the lamp beside her, and jimin feels his throat bob up and down in suppressed emotion.
"it's nothing difficult, mrs. kim." a blatant lie.
"it may not be difficult." she takes a breath. "but please, jimin. tell me why you've been so, so absent these past days. i—i can't afford to lose another person."
jimin stays silent.
and then, he speaks. "do you trust me?"
"i—what?"
he can't tell her: just not quite yet. what difference would it make in the first place? it isn't like she could tell someone to go help catch a supposedly-possessed boy that most can't even see. and with her graying roots and chapped lips, her frail skin and thin stomach, jimin can't put more stress on her. it's just inhumane; taehyung is his best friend, and it's his responsibility to save him if his mother can't, no matter how much the fucking turmoil.
no matter how many tears he sheds when no one watches.
"just trust me," jimin places a hand over hers and manages a smile, "and i swear, mrs. kim, everything will be exactly how it was before. please. just give me some time. don't worry, alright?"
"jimin." it isn't a statement; the word is a mere breath past her lips, shaky with her wet eyes.
but he has long removed his fingers from her own spiny ones, and without another word of sorrow, jimin disappears into the night with a rod in his backpack and tears in his eyes.
==
"it's one a.m.," yoongi slams the blade of his metal shovel into the rough dirt, "it's onefuckin' a.m. and here i am, digging out a grave. who would have thought."
