With Jimin’s help, I managed to climb up to my balcony through the ladder that he grabbed from our backyard. Jimin climbed up to his and promised me he’d be back. True enough, as I sat against the railing of the balcony in silence, with tears, Jimin came back a few minutes later with a bucket and a wet cloth.

He sat in front of me and told me to hold the bucket.

“If you feel like puking again, puke in the bucket,” he said.

I solemnly nodded, staring in thin air.

The silence between us was surprisingly very comforting. I felt calmer now that we weren’t in the horrible club. But the sick feeling of nausea didn’t leave my system. I had a terrible headache too but I was more conscious than before.

Jimin suddenly shifted to sit next to me but facing me, still.

“Could you shift a little so that your back is facing me? I’ll help the vomit come out of your system so that the both of us can go to sleep,” he nicely asked in the softest tone of voice.

To think of it, he was the only brother who hasn’t called me names or talk to me rudely before, besides that one time when he randomly got mad at me. I didn’t know it then, but my trust for him was growing.

Jimin started massaging my back and true enough, it was encouraging the vomit to come out. I could almost feel it moving higher and higher up my gullet. But it was also encouraging fresh new tears. I knew my make-up was smudged and my tears were probably black but Jimin didn’t judge me at all. He continued massaging me, ignoring my cries.

Images of Yoongi and Nara snickering at my overdressing, images of Yoongi and Nara dancing together, images of Yoongi not bothering to look out for me – they were constantly playing on my mind. I could accurately picture Yoongi’s loving eyes on Nara’s seductive ones.

I cried harder, my eyes closed tight as I recalled every painful memory, and my heart pounding in pain. Jimin started patting my back harder too.

And then, I vomited everything out and fell limply against Jimin’s strong arms that I had eventually grown accustomed to that night. I was completely out of energy, only a little more before I really fall unconscious. From the corner of my eyes, I saw another figure, more specifically, Taehyung, climbing up onto his balcony and entering his room without caring that we had caught him sneak back in the house. I wondered if he was there at the party, if he had saw me dance, if he had saw my embarrassing fall. Everything about me just ends up looking like a mess, no matter how hard I tried.

My mind stopped wondering when I felt Jimin wiping the remnants of the vomit off my lips using the wet cloth.

He carried me inside my room and placed me on the bed.

I was too tired to try to understand what he was doing.

The next thing I knew, he was pulling a pair of trousers up my legs. He then closed his eyes and pulled the dress from my body. I was honestly too exhausted to even register that he might be seeing my bare body. Once the dress was off, he put a huge t-shirt over me. He then placed me in a more comfortable position on the bed. I felt my converses being pulled off my feet and my blanket being placed on me, enveloping me in warmth.

Then, I felt lips on my forehead and a whisper in my ear.

“Good night...”

And that very moment was when I realized that it had been those arms carrying me. I realized that it had been Jimin who had helped me at the basketball match, that it had been him during the family vacation bearing my weight on his bicycle as he cycled for shelter with the other drunken boys. It had been Jimin all along.

It wasn’t Yoongi. It was Jimin.

But that very moment was also the moment I had used all my remaining energy up and I eventually lost consciousness, right before I could tell Jimin how grateful I was, right before I could tell Jimin anyth