Chapter Two

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It was the sound of shouting that alerted his numb senses. The sound of the clouds rolling overhead and the snow sinking into the back of his thin clothing, it all combined into an orchestra that had his eyes fluttering open. Jimin flinched away from the light pouring through his vision from the overcast sky that hung above him. He stretched out his fingers and clenched him around the snow, almost hesitating to test out the rest of his body for injuries. The young boy closed his eyes for another moment, then slowly, reluctantly, pushing his cold hands into the snow and stood to his feet.

 

His stomach lurched at the scene that swept across his vision. Police cars swarmed the road on either side, two ambulances were stationed on the length of the supposed crash site, and several first responders ran up and down the sides of the road. Jimin looked down at himself, touching, feeling, pulling at this pristine clothing and running his fingers through his hair.

 

“Jihyun,” he breathed. His eyes shot toward the unfamiliar faces that were running up and down the road, then to their car-- crushed and mended, barely what it once was. “Jihyun!”

 

He ran out into the midst of the scene, spinning in each and every direction to find his brother, to have any excuse not to think the worst. A lump quickly formed in his throat as more and more people rushed past him, paying no mind to his distress.

 

“Where’s my brother?” Jimin reached out to a police officer walking past, though received no response. “H-Hey! Where’s my brother?”

 

Why wasn’t anyone helping him? Why did no one give him a second glance, why wasn’t anyone paying attention to his distress? He swallowed in an attempt to down the lump in his throat, then followed after the officer toward an ambulance at the far end of the street. Jimin ran his hand over his face and slowly, carefully, approached a group of paramedics loading a body onto a stretcher. Again, his stomach lurched at the sight.

 

The same light silver hair, the same face, the same clothes. Jimin grasped at his shirt, then looked back to where his body lay on a stretcher, surrounded by paramedics. His mind spun and his world was hazy for a quick moment.

 

“N-No,” he whispered, shaking his head. “W-What’s happening? You--You have to wake up! I have to wake up!”

 

He stilled for a long moment while he harshly pushed his hands through his hair and stared out for the one he’d been looking for. Jimin’s gaze shifted over to the ambulance he’d taken notice of before as another pair of paramedics approached with a similar stretcher, a similar body. Tears sprung to his eyes and stung at his core before he took off in a run toward the emergency vehicle and loaded himself into the back.

 

Blood coated one side of his brother’s face from the two long gashes that worked down from his jawline and down the length of his neck. His clothing was ripped at the edges and one of his arms was bent in a compromised position. Jimin stared at Jihyun’s chest, he stared at the area where he had shot his hand out, gnawing on his bottom lip, silently willing him to breathe until a shallow rise met his eyes.

 

“You have to wake up,” Jimin whispered, placing his hand on the stretcher. “It can’t end the way it did between us, you have to wake up, Jihyunnie. Please.”

 

Two years prior

 

Night of the Ballet

 

He’d been to the ballet, he’d been to the ballet numerous times with Namjoon, Seokjin, and Jihyun, together and respectively, but never with someone like Yoongi. Not with anyone outside his family. Jimin ran his fingers through his hair and squinted at his reflection--it was a similar outfit every time he was in attendance, but it was different this time. It wasn’t family or Jungkook, it was Yoongi. And Jimin didn’t know Yoongi like he knew everyone else.

 

With a soft sigh, Jimin straightened out his messy hair once more and hesitantly grabbed his things from his dresser and exited the room. He could hear Jihyun with his friends in the other room, then Namjoon and Seokjin in the kitchen talking. Jimin was surprised Namjoon had made it out of his office after all the work he had over the past few days. He wrung in hands out in front of him, hoping the simple, repeated action would calm his racing heart and the anxiety that was building in his chest.

 

“Are you sure you’re not gonna be sick?” Namjoon chuckled as Jimin entered the kitchen. “You look like you’re about to throw up.”

 

Jimin leaned against the counter and closed his eyes. “I feel like I’m about to throw up if I’m honest.”

 

“He’s just a guy, Jimin-ah.” Jin laughed, sipping his cup of tea. “You don’t need to be so nervous.”

 

“Exactly,” he retorted, wringing out his hands once again. “It's just--” he stopped himself for a moment and swallowed the nervous lump in his throat. “It’s different for some reason. I don’t know. I just don’t know him as well as Jungkook and he’s not family like you guys and Jihyun.”

 

Jin smiled, “Just be yourself. The best way to make friends is to let them see who you are from the beginning, rather than keeping yourself hidden.” He shrugged his shoulders, “If he doesn’t like you, then that’s his problem.”

 

“He’s right, Jimin.” Namjoon chimed in. He leaned back in his chair, drumming his fingers on the top of the table as he watched Jimin fidget slightly. “Just act like it's Jungkook you’re going with. There’s no reason to be nervous.”

 

Jimin wanted to say that there were too many things to be nervous about. There were things he could say wrong, things he couldn’t take back, and certain aspects of his personality that Yoongi couldn’t like. They were already so different, and Jimin didn’t want Yoongi to see just how different they actually were. He gnawed on his bottom lip and stared ahead at the wall in front of him. The sound of the doorbell going off was the only thing that brought him back from his thoughts, just barely managing to keep his attention for more than a single second.

 

“I’ll get the door,” Namjoon smiled, pushing himself up from the table. “I’ll talk to him for a little bit while you calm yourself down.”

 

A moment later, Jihyun scurried into the kitchen to shuffle through the cabinets. Jimin followed his brother’s movements with his eyes before looking back to the tile flooring under his feet.

 

“Jihyun, what are you snooping for?” Jin quizzed, eyeing him disapprovingly.

 

Jihyun pulled out a big bag of chips, opening them and stuffing some in his mouth before turning to Jin. “Baekho finished off the last bag.” He noticed Jimin standing across from him and blinked. “Hyung, why do you look like you’re gonna barf?”

 

Jimin glared at his younger brother, then ran his hands over his face. “I really don't feel like answering that right now.”

 

“He’s going out with a friend tonight,” Jin answered, turning to the sink of dishes behind him.

 

“Oh.” Was all Jihyun said before turning to rummage in the fridge.

 

“A friend who isn’t Jungkook.”

 

Jihyun pulled his head out of the fridge to look between the two, his eyes widened in the slightest. “Oh?”

 

“His name is Yoongi,” Jimin mumbled at his feet.

 

Jihyun grabbed a soda can from the fridge before letting the door shut. “The rapper? Agust D?” Jihyun set his drink on the counter before reaching into the chip bag again. “Since when did you get involved with him? It doesn’t seem likely.”

 

“He saw me dancing,” he replied sheepishly. Jimin pursed his lips together and rested his hands on the edges of the counter behind him. “He’s nice to me and he invited me to the ballet because he had extra tickets from a family friend.”

 

“Uh-huh.” Jihyun looked at him unsure for a moment, and then shrugged before grabbing his soda and exiting the kitchen. “Well have fun!”

 

“Yeah,” Jimin muttered, watching him disappear. “Sure.”

 

Jin sighed and stopped his task, grabbing a dish towel and wiping his hands on it before turning to his younger friend. “Jimin-ah. Take deep breaths. Remember, if you have any concerns or you need to leave, call me or Namjoon. We’re not that far. Okay? We’ll be here.”

 

“Yeah,” he repeated. Jimin took in a sharp breath and held it there for a moment as his eyes closed. He released the long breath and ran his hands over the top of his legs, willing the shaking of his fingers to stop. “I-I’ll do that if I need to.”

 

“Hey,” Jin walked over and placed his hands on his shoulder, smiling warmly to try and ease his friend’s anxiety, “You’ve got this. You’ll have fun.” He gave Jimin another moment before wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “Let’s go, yeah? Let’s not keep him waiting too long.”

 

“Okay.” Jimin nodded and exhaled heavily. “I feel bad now, having kept him waiting.”

 

Jimin clenched his hands into fists at his sides and allowed Seokjin to nudge him toward the front door, keenly aware of just how fast his heart was beating against the inside of his chest. Namjoon’s soft laughter met the two as they entered the foyer together--Jin holding his arm around Jimin’s shoulders and Jimin trying to keep himself steady and on his feet. Jimin glanced up from the ground to lock eyes with Yoongi before he took to scanning him up and down and taking in his underdressed exterior.

 

He shot a look at Seokjin and smiled nervously at Yoongi. “Uhm, h-hi.”

 

Yoongi gave him a slight smile, “Hi yourself.” He turned to Jin and bowed respectfully, making sure to be polite. It was a little awkward, but he did his best. “Hi, I’m Yoongi.”

 

“I know.” Jin grinned, pushing Jimin forward gently. “Just try and be home at a decent hour, and stay out of trouble. I heard it gets pretty wild at a ballet.”

 

“Hyung,” Jimin sighed, biting back a smile. “Please.”

 

Yoongi laughed softly, “I can’t make any promises. I mean, who can resist the thrill of snoring old ladies and classical music?”

 

“Its contemporary,” Jimin responded. “Contemporary music, hyung.”

 

Yoongi glanced over at Jimin as Seokjin tried to stifle his laugh, laughing slightly as he raised an eyebrow at the younger man, “I mean, contemporary. Obviously, that’s what I meant.”

 

“Jimin knows a lot about that kind of stuff. It’s like your knowledge of hip-hop but in dancing and contemporary pieces. He does it to all of us, it’s okay” Namjoon chuckled. “Just try not to beat his pride too much with your intelligence on the subject, Jimin.”

 

“Sorry,” Jimin bowed his head and smiled at the ground. He looked back to Yoongi, cheeks red with embarrassment. “Uhm, are you ready to go?”

 

“Ready if you are.” Yoongi held up the keys, turning to Jin and Namjoon. “We’ll be back later.”

 

Jin waved his hand, “Have fun!”

 

“I’ll text you when we leave,” Jimin told him. He folded his hands behind his back, then slowly followed Yoongi out the door. “See you guys later tonight.”

 

“Don’t text and drive!” Jihyun shouted from upstairs, just before Yoongi shut the door.

 

Yoongi snickered, following Jimin off the porch, “Your friends, they seem cool.”

 

“They’re great, really.” He glanced back at the house behind him and smiled. “I’m closest to Namjoon-hyung, I think. That's what Seokjin-hyung says all the time.”

 

“I’ll do my best not to disappoint them, then,” Yoongi assured, shooting him a slight smile before continuing on towards the car.

 

“I think you’re in the clear for a long while, hyung. They really do like you, honestly.” His car smelt of expensive cologne and vanilla, two oddly familiar things in such a foreign place. Jimin glanced around the interior of the vehicle to distract himself. “Seokjin-hyung especially.”

 

Yoongi tried to suppress the smile that tugged at his lips, putting the keys in the ignition. "I guess I'm doing well then."

 

“I think you’re doing great.” Jimin grinned, fiddling with the ends of his sleeves. He rolled his eyes and turned his wrist upwards at the sight of a button that had come undone. His shaking hands circled around the small piece in an anxious attempt to fix the error that had occurred.

 

Little did Jimin know that Yoongi could see him struggling. The car slowed to a stop at the first red light, flashes of passing car's headlights coming in through the windshield, and Yoongi carefully reached over to grasp his hand. "I'm doing my best, but I'm going to tell you now," he mumbled, fastening the button on his sleeve. "This isn't exactly something I'm used to."

 

“Yeah,” he whispered, taking a quick glance at his ripped skinny jeans and oversized shirt. “I noticed.”

 

•••

 

Jimin had been to the ballet several times over the course of the past three years. Though he found that he hadn’t seen anyone dressed quite like Yoongi walking in so confidently to expensive, first-floor seating. There was an intermission in between, one that Yoongi took to exit out to the lobby, promising to return shortly while Jimin stayed and fiddled with his phone. His initial anxiety had died down once the performance started, but only bounded back in waves every time he glanced over at Yoongi.

 

Yoongi invited him to come along, but Jimin knew somewhere that Yoongi didn’t enjoy himself. It wasn’t his type of scene, anyone inside the venue could’ve told that.

 

Jimin stuffed his hands in his pockets and trailed out of the venue behind Yoongi. It was a short walk to where they’d parked in the only available spaces nearby. He glimpsed over at Yoongi as the older male brushed his hair out of his eyes and looked up at the starry sky overhead, briefly taking in the stars scattered throughout the darkened sky.

 

Jimin bit his bottom lip. “Did you enjoy yourself, hyung?”

 

Yoongi turned his attention to Jimin, crossing his arms over his chest, “I did. It was nice, really. Different, but nice.”

 

“I know,” he responded with a small smile. “They’re so talented, it’s so amazing. It's inspiring, yet mesmerizing.”

 

Yoongi walked side by side with him down the winding concrete steps, “How did you get into it? Dance, I mean. I know who Namjoon is, most people do. How did you get into it?" He pursed his lips to suppress a smile. "I'm pretty sure Seokjin-hyung isn't the cause."

 

“In a way, it was partially Namjoon-hyung,” Jimin answered. “We were out Christmas shopping one year and I saw this crowd gathered around a corner. I didn’t give Namjoon enough time to react before I ran across the street to find the street performers dancing on the other side.” He smiled fondly at the memory. “Street performers got me into dancing, but I found interests in contemporary music and dance soon after.”

 

Yoongi listened, taking in the information as they came to stand at his car. "Understandable." He sat on the hood of his car, his elbows resting on his knees as he sighed. "It's similar to me. My uncle had these friends who would come over occasionally. A lot of times they were drinking, but sometimes they brought out their guitars and violins." He fiddled with his fingers, "They wrote songs and I'd sit in sometimes. One time, one of his friends showed me how to play the piano." he smiled slightly, “I guess it was then that music started to click for me. It just made sense, I guess.”

 

“You play the piano?”

 

“I do.” Yoongi nodded, turning his eyes up to look at Jimin. “I probably play it more than I rap, to be completely honest. It’s freeing.”

 

“You should play it for me one day, even rap for me.” Jimin brushed his hair out of his eyes and bit his lip. “You’ve seen me dance, I think it’s only fair, you know.”

 

Yoongi his lips and smiled, turning his eyes meekly to his hands. "Fair enough. Equivalent exchange, I suppose."

 

“Can I ask you something, hyung?”

 

“What?”