Warning: mild violence in this chapter (but if you are reading this story then you probably already expected that)

               Unfortunately for Taehyung, he still had to go back to school after his little vacation to the US. He only had a few months left before he would graduate, so he just wanted to get the year over with and move on. He hated going to school now. At first, he tolerated the dull classes and long hours of homework because it gave him an excuse to see Jungkook. But, without him, his days were currently filled with boredom and anger. He found himself getting angry more often than not. He was angry at his parents for neglecting him. He was angry at himself for not being with Jungkook on the day he disappeared. He was angry at the classmates who bullied the small boy. He was angry at the looks of pity that he began to receive after Kookie’s vanishing. He hated all of it.

              He ranted to Hoseok over the phone multiple times about it, having grown closer to the older boy over the last few months. The tattoo artist would tell him to ignore them, and to just hang on for a few more months before he’s off to college.  As the months dragged on, Taehyung became more restless to leave. Not only was he more than prepared to leave high school, but also home. It’s been hell for Taehyung to try to hide his new ink from his parents. He couldn’t wear tanktops, couldn’t go swimming, or go to the beach without a shirt when his parents were around.

              However, one hot, summer day, just a few weeks away from graduation, Taehyung’s mother at work and his dad typing away at his computer and answering phone calls in his office, the teenager couldn’t take the heat. He took off his t-shirt and remained in a pair of baggy shorts, turning his fan on high and opening his window, allowing the warm breeze to flow through his room. He played music off of his phone as he began more sketches, his most recent being a large landscape filled with trees, flowers, and various types of foliage, mountains looming in the distance. Over time, he’s become drawn to more realistic and calming sketches, rather than the ones full of cartoons and harsh lines. He did indulge in a wild, outlandish drawing every once in a while, but preferred realism. He had begun drawing people, animals, and characters from the shows he watches. He had even done a sketch of Jungkook at Jungkook’s parents’ request. They had said that they saw Taehyung as a second son, and would love to have a piece of his art in their home that was also in memory of their missing son. Taehyung knew it was more of a memorial, as his best friend had been missing for a year and a half now.

              The young artist was so lost in his thoughts he did not hear the footsteps approaching his door. It opened and he jumped as his father stuck his head into the room. “Tae, I’m going to the store and I was wondering if- WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?” his father’s eyes were glued to his son’s torso. Taehyung immediately realized his mistake and grabbed his discarded shirt, trying to cover his exposed tattoo. His father stormed into the room, ripping the shirt out of Taehyung’s hands and forcing his son to lie back so he could see the ink running along his side. As if this wasn’t already bad enough, they both heard the front door open and close and the familiar click of high heels.

              “SWEETHEART, GET IN HERE RIGHT NOW!” his father boomed. His dad tended to use nicknames when he was nervous. The high school student heard his mother approach his room.

              “What’s going on?” his mother asked as she got into the room. She had come home early due to her boss being out that day, and there not being that much paperwork left for her to do other than a few reports.

              “Our son has a ing tattoo!” the man raged, gesturing aggressively to their son. Taehyung’s mother gasped as her eyes fell on the words written on Taehyung’s skin.

              “Taehyung, where on Earth did you get this?!” she exclaimed.

              “It doesn’t matter where he got it! All that matters is that he’s going to get it removed, right now!” his dad hauled Taehyung to his feet and began dragging him to the front door. The teenager pulled free of his dad’s grip.

              “No! I won’t remove it! I chose to get it for a reason and I’m keeping it!” Taehyung argued.

              “Like hell you will! You live in my house, you live by my rules!”

              “I’m not a child anymore! I can do as I please! What I do is my own business, not yours.” The boy retorted. His mother began to scold him but was interrupted by a loud slap echoing off the walls. Taehyung fell to the floor, sitting in shock before reaching up and cradling his stinging cheek. He looked up at his father, tears now falling freely down his face as he stared.

              “Don’t you dare talk to me like that!” his father screamed. His mother was crying now too. She reached out to hold Taehyung, but he flinched away. “Get out of my house.” His father growled. Taehyung’s mouth fell open in disbelief as his mother begged his dad to change his mind. “Now, Taehyung!” his father yelled. Taehyung scrambled to his feet, ran to his room and began grabbing the things most important to him. He grabbed a shirt, quickly throwing it on, along with his phone, wallet, backpack, sketchbook, and his photos of him and Jungkook from his dresser. Tears continued to run down his face as he collected his belongings. His mother came up behind him and began to beg that he stay.

              “Mom, I think this is best for all of us. Besides, why would you care if I leave? You never spent time with me anyway.” He answered between sobs, gently moving past his mother, avoiding eye contact as she processed his words. He walked through the living room, past his father, who glared at him as he walked out the door. Taehyung’s body continued to shake with sobs as he pulled out his phone. He called the one and only person he trusted right now: Hoseok.

              “Tae! What’s up?” Hoseok cheerily answered his phone, as usual. Taehyung was having trouble speaking through his continuous crying. “Taehyung, are you okay? What’s wrong?” the older boy instantly switched from gleeful to concerned.

              “Hyung, I—” the teen trailed off as he sniffled into the phone.

              “Come over and we can talk about it, okay?” Hoseok suggests, Taehyung quietly agreeing before they hung up. The high school student knew the way to his friend’s apartment, having been there when his parents were fighting just last week. Hoseok had finished moving in to his apartment in Seoul about two weeks ago, and made sure Taehyung knew he was welcome at any time.

              Taehyung made his way through the streets of Seoul until he came to Hoseok’s apartment building. The older male was still working on getting a building for his future tattoo parlor, so he was still working from home.

              The young boy entered the large structure, going straight to the elevator and hitting the button for the fifth floor. When it was his stop, he walked down to the apartment at the very end of the hall on the right. He didn’t even get to knock before the door was swinging open and he was enveloped in a hug. Neither Taehyung nor Hoseok said anything for quite some time. They just stood in the hallway, holding each other as Taehyung sobbed into Hoseok’s shoulder. A tattooed hand rubbed Taehyung’s back as the artist held him close. J-Hope already knew about Taehyung’s parents and their marital problems, and he hated when they dragged their son into it, especially since there was a long period of time where Hoseok was still in Los Angeles, so all he could do was try to comfort Taehyung over the phone.

              Although Hoseok would never admit to it out loud, he despised Taehyung’s parents. The way his mother still expected them to be a family even when she’s out with another man, or the way his dad claims he loves Taehyung even when he barely ever spares him a glance. Hoseok had grown up in a household where he was loved and appreciated fully, and when he told his parents he wanted to become a tattoo artist, they supported him and went as far as getting him his first sketchbook to start sketching ideas instead of using printer paper as he had been doing previously. His teenage years were very different than what Taehyung was currently experiencing. He felt sorry for the young student, but never expressed it directly because he knows how much Taehyung hates pity.

              Hoseok was the first to let go, but only to lead Taehyung into his apartment where they could talk in private instead of staying out in the hall. He patiently waited for the brunet to calm down before he asked him to explain what happened. Taehyung relayed everything that happened, from his father seeing his tattoo, to the slap, to the words he dared murmur to his mother. The older boy listened intently, practically hearing Taehyung’s heart shatter all over again as he replayed the last hour in his head. When the younger was done, Hoseok pulled the boy into another hug, having no words for how he felt. He didn’t know how to phrase it. He didn’t want to say the wrong thing and then have Taehyung think he was babying him. Taehyung wasn’t there for pity; he was there for comfort. He wanted to be reassured that everything would be okay; that his life wasn’t a complete -storm; that he could still be happy.

              “If you don’t want to go back for a while, you’re more than welcome to stay here, if you’d like.” Hoseok offered.

              “I don’t want to impose. Thank you, though.” Taehyung replied, voice rough from the crying.

              “You wouldn’t be imposing, Taehyung. Besides, do you have anywhere else to go?” Hoseok retorted. Taehyung shook his head.

              “Then it’s settled. You can have my room and I’ll sleep on the couch.” Hoseok began to stand up, but Taehyung grabbed his arm and shook his head. The boy insisted that if he were to stay, he wouldn’t take Hoseok’s bed away from him. He would stay on the couch. The two went back and forth for a little bit until Hoseok finally surrendered and let Taehyung take the couch.

              Unfortunately, Taehyung still had one more day left of school until the weekend. Hoseok dropped him off in the morning, promising to be there when he got out. Taehyung wished he could express how grateful he was to his friend, but he could never find the right words. Hoseok was the brother that Taehyung never had, but had always wished for. A part of him wished the male could come with him to his classes.

              At lunch, Taehyung was walking towards the cafeteria when he heard a passing conversation between two boys walking in the opposite direction. “Yeah, I’m glad that little Jungkook isn’t around anymore. Him being here lowered the entire school’s standards.” One boy chuckled to the other. Taehyung instantly changed course and grabbed the boy harshly by the arm, the student crying out in surprise and pain.

              “What the did you just say?” Taehyung growled. The boy glared at the taller male.

              “I said this school is better off without his scrawny little infecting the place.” The student spat. Infected. He was talking about Taehyung’s best friend as if he were some kind of disease. Taehyung snapped.

              Everything happened so fast that Taehyung hadn’t even realized his fist had made contact with the boy’s mouth until the boy was on the ground, blood running down his chin as he spit out a few of his teeth. Taehyung had never punched anyone, or anything, that hard before. Students began to gather around to spectate.

              The shorter male stood up from the ground and swung at Taehyung, connecting his fist to the brunet’s eye. The artist stumbled but quickly regained his balance, although he could no longer see out of his swelling left eye. He kneed the other in the stomach, elbowing the back of his head as the boy doubled over, sending the boy collapsing to the ground. Taehyung saw red. He grabbed the student and rolled him over, sitting on his chest as he began punching the boy in the face repeatedly.

               “Don’t.”

               One punch.

               “Talk.”

               Another.

               “About.”

               Another.

               “Him.”

               Another.

               “Like.”

              One more.

              “That.” Taehyung’s fist connected one last time with the boy’s face, who was now unconscious. All of the sudden, Kyungsoo, one of his fellow classmates, pulls Taehyung off of the smaller boy. The black-haired boy tries to calm Taehyung as Yixing, another student, helps carry the unconscious male to the nurse. Kyungsoo leads Taehyung to the bathroom so he can wash the blood off of his hands.

              “I don’t blame you.” Kyungsoo said after a few minutes of silence.

              “What?” Taehyung asked, turning to face him.

              “What you did back there. I don’t blame you for it. I know things have been really tough lately for you with Jungkook going missing and everything. I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.” The teen apologized.

              “Why are you sorry?”

              “Because there are s like that who don’t know when to give up. Anyway, if they ask who did that to him, I won’t rad you out.” Kyungsoo gave what seemed to be a reassuring smile.

              “Thanks, but either he’ll rad me out or they’ll question my eye. Not to mention the other students are all witnesses.” Tae points out.

              As it turns out, the boy didn’t rad him out. Rumor has it that he’s too scared of whoever did it to name them. Students claimed they didn’t see anything or they refused to share, some even getting detention for their resistance. No one had mentioned Taehyung’s name. The ones who had seen the fight knew why Taehyung had snapped like that. They understood. Or, at least, they thought they did. They really just feel bad for their fellow classmate, so they stay quiet. One official does ask about Taehyung’s eye, but the boy explains it away with saying he hit it on a doorknob when he tripped earlier that day. Kyungsoo backed up his story, saying Taehyung knew the nurse would be busy with the other boy so he didn’t want to disturb her.

              On his way to his final class, he got a few pats on the shoulder, maybe a few smiles in his direction. He didn’t understand. He finally got to his class, sitting in his seat like usual. Someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned to see Chanyeol, a junior who could’ve passed for a college freshman due to his height and the way he looked cramped into the small desk.

              “Hey, I heard you really kicked Hanchul’s earlier. You really did us all a favor, V.” the tall boy remarked. V? Taehyung wondered to himself.

              “I’m sorry…V?” he questioned.

              “Yeah, that’s what everyone’s started calling you. In the last few hours, at least.” The boy explained.

              “V? Why V? I don’t even have a V in my name.” the brunet pointed out. Chanyeol shrugged.

              “I dunno. Ask Jisoo; people say she and her friends started it.” He replied. Jisoo and her friends were four of the smartest girls in Taehyung’s grade, with Jisoo being valedictorian. She sat in the back of the room, just four seats behind Chanyeol. Taehyung looked at the clock and estimated that he had about three minutes before the bell would ring and class would start. Just enough time to talk to Jisoo. He got out of his seat and made his way over to the girl, leaning on her desk as he reached her. She had been talking to Lisa, but stopped as she noticed him. The smile she gave him told Taehyung that she already had a pretty good idea as to why he was there.

              “Uh…Jisoo, was it you who started this whole ‘V’ thing?” she nodded in confirmation. “Okay….why?” he pressed. Jisoo sighed as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.

              “Because you beat that kid to a pulp, which he deserved. And because I’ve never heard of you losing a fight. Every time you throw a punch, you kick .” She replied.

              “Alright…but why ‘V’?” Taehyung questioned further. Jisoo rolled her eyes.

              “V for Victory. Duh.” She responded. Taehyung was honestly flattered  that someone would give him such a nickname, but he didn’t feel like he deserved that title. He was about to protest, but the sound of the bell cut him off, signaling him to get back to his seat.

              After school, Hoseok was there to pick up Taehyung, as promised. He immediately questioned the now bruised and swollen eye that adorned Taehyung’s face. The young boy said he’d explain when they get to the apartment.

              On the couch in Hoseok’s flat, the tattoo artist pressed a bag of frozen veggies onto Taehyung’s swollen eye, causing the latter to hiss in pain. The teen explained what had happened between him and the boy named Hanchul, and the aftermath.

              “Wait, so people were congratulating you?”  Hoseok was surprised, to say the least. Taehyung shrugged and nodded, not sure about the whole thing either. “And what did they start calling you?”

              “V.” the brown-haired student replied. Hoseok seemed to think about the name for a little bit.

              “It suits you.” The man confirmed.

              “You think so?” Taehyung asked.

             “Yeah, I think you should keep it.” Hoseok assured him.

             From then on, Taehyung adopted the nickname of V.

Author's note: I'M NOT DEAD!! WOOOO!!! I'm really sorry I haven't updated in so long! School has been kicking my lately and I still have finals coming up but I'll do my best to update sooner. Love you guys!!