They're not sure what to expect when Hoseok's mom rolls her SUV up the driveway of ground zero, but as far as Taehyung was concerned, this house is far from being lit.

                 "Are y'sure you got the right address?" Hoseok asks, climbing out of the car and peering at the dark windows. They're posted in front of a small townhouse, the typical red-brick with off-white furnishing. It's completely silent; no signs of a grad party. "This house looks like my nana could live here."

                 "Does your nana like to get turnt?"

                 He whips his head at Taehyung and glares. "She's deaf in one ear—"

                 "Anyway, I'm pretty sure this is the right address." The orange-headed male looks at his phone. "He said this is where Jin-sunbae lives."

                 "Who said that though, is the question..." Namjoon gingerly moves to stand on the sidewalk upon realizing they shouldn't stand on someone else's front lawn.

                 "Yeah," Hoseok scoffs. "Check yer sources, mate."

                 "I got the address from Yoongi, okay?" Taehyung pouts. "He'd know where Seokjin lives, and wouldn't lie to us. Right?" He looks at Jimin.

                 Jimin nods vaguely. "Right."

                 "That doesn't explain why we aren't raisin' the roof right now." Hoseok impatiently paces across the grass.

                 "Maybe call him to double check?" Namjoon suggests. "Also, maybe we should get off the lawn since... this might not be Seokjin's house."

                 "Yeah, I guess—wait, . ! My phone ran out of battery."

                 "Are you kidding?" Hoseok rolls his eyes. "Jimin, you call him."

                 "I mean I would, but..." Jimin scratches his cheek. "I don't have my phone on me."

                 "Are you kidding?" he groans again. "Why don't 'cha? Aren't you supposed to be a teenager?"

                 "I was worried about losing it at the party... you two have cellphones, don't you?"

                 "I can call." Namjoon takes out his phone. "What's the number?"

                 Jimin stutters. "Um, uh..."

                 "439-0000," Taehyung recites without blinking. "Come on, Park Jimin. At least remember your own boyfriend's number."

                 "... Why do you know my boyfriend's number...?"

                 Namjoon presses it in and holds the speaker to his ear. After a silent moment, they're answered with the dull voice of a woman saying the number is currently unavailable.

                 "Oh, I forgot." Jimin slaps his forehead. "Yoongi doesn't pick up the phone, usually, when it's a number he doesn't know."

                 "OH MY GOD," Hoseok groans, collapsing onto the grass. "Wake me up when you idiots get the damn address."

                 "Okay, I came prepared for this!" Namjoon takes off his backpack and shuffles through it, handing Taehyung a small device. "Portable charger."

                 Taehyung throws him a fist bump. "Damn Namjoon, back at it again with saving our asses." He quickly plugs his phone in and cheers when the screen lights up. "Okay, okay, okay. Uh... Phone... Last called... 'Sir Yoongi the 4th'... okay." He puts on the speaker and waits, only to receive the same unanswered call treatment. "Geez! Doesn't this guy ever pick up his phone?"

                 "Oh, I forgot." Jimin slaps his forehead. "Yoongi's still in the hospital, so he doesn't have access to his phone."

                 There's a long silence as the other boys turn to stare at him with blank looks on their faces. After a moment, Hoseok weakly moans, "oh my god."

                 They end up running three blocks down the street to the closest laundromat and mooch off the internet to get into Taehyung's Instagram account. From there, they get 16 different accounts of a 'totally #blessed party' with varied selfies and pictures of red, plastic cups. They put the pieces together and manage to locate the party venue, which is a street away from where they started. Then they run all the way there, and by the time they hear the pulsing dubstep pouring out of a large house, the clock hits 10pm.

                 "That's more like it," Taehyung breathes as they approach the front fence. All the lights are on, and they can see the casted shadows of people milling about or dancing around. The front of the house has been sparsely decorated with streamers and cigarette butts. "Yoongi probably gave us the wrong address."

                 "Or this isn't his house," Hoseok interjects, eyeing the smoky upper-floor windows. "He could be borrowing someone else's place, y'know. His house is tiny as ; I'd do the same."

                 Taehyung waves him off. "Whatever. Guys, look at the front door. It's unlocked. How much do you wanna bet we can just walk in like we belong there?"

                 "If you're so sure, then why don't you go in first...?" Jimin suggests gently, leaning on Namjoon's shoulder.

                 "Maybe I will!" They watch as the orange idiot waltzes onto the property, almost tripping on nothing as he makes his way towards the front door. He looks back at them with so much confidence they can almost feel their guts reeling.

                 Taehyung cautiously pushes the door open and is immediately overwhelmed by the atmosphere; the music is abruptly pulsing down his spine, and he's thrown into whatever dank mess is the crowded front hall. It's entirely what he imagined the party to be, and assumes there will be so much more once he gets past this barricade of people. However, he doesn't see that result soon enough; someone grabs the back of his hood and pulls him towards the door. "No freshmen, carrothead," a senior male growls, swirling the drink in his hand. "Invitation only."

                 Taehyung glares at him as he's pushed outside. "I'm a junior!" The door slams shut in his face, and he can practically feel the unimpressed stares his friends are giving him on his back.

                 "Taehyung!" Namjoon calls. "Come back, we can think of another plan."

                 "Or we could go home, get some pizza," Hoseok grumbles, continuously kicking the fence.

                 Taehyung merely holds up a hand without turning back to look at them. He pulls his hood over his head, making sure none of his orange bangs are sticking out. Then he in a breath and pushes the door open, throwing himself into the party once more. He keeps his eyes open for anyone who might recognize him, and dives in between people as soon as he gets the chance. He slides past a group of singing girls to run up the stairs, narrowly avoiding someone who thought sliding down the steps on a pillowcase was a good idea. Once he finds himself on the second floor, he navigates to one of the bedrooms and walks in.

                 He's thrown off by the horrific smell of what's probably weed. There are several others in the room, males and females alike, who look up at him with a glazed look in their eyes. "... H-Hey," one of the boys says, lazily pointing. "I recognize you."

                 Taehyung yanks on his hood and nervously shifts in place. "Are all of you high?"

                 "TOTALLY!" a girl squeals, proceeding to chew on a lock of her hair.

                 Another boy holds up a joint. "Want some?"

                 "Uh... I'm fine, thank you." Taehyung decides to go for the window at the back of the room. He manages to pull it open as they keep talking in high-pitched voices.

                 "Wait, I recognize you," the boy says again. "Thomas! Bro, you made it back!"

                 "Y-Yes, I'm totally Thomas," he replies gently before ducking his head outside. "Hey! Climb up here, guys! It's not safe to enter through the front door."

                 The rest of his crew groups up under the window. "How d'ya expect to climb up there, you nitwit?!" Hoseok shouts, waving a fist at him.

                 "I dunno, just climb up the wall, no biggie." He sits on the window ledge and holds out a hand. "I'll pull you guys up."

                 "THOMAS, I LOVE YOU!" A girl shrieks from across the room.

                 His friends look up at him in alarm. "Is someone in there with you?"

                 "Yeah, but they're all stoned as and think I'm a hallucination, it's cool." Taehyung impatiently wiggles his hand. "Come on, before anyone spots us."

                 "Worth a shot." Namjoon shrugs. "Give me a lift." Jimin and Hoseok help him up the wall and watch as he climbs up, slipping about once or twice. He grabs onto Taehyung's hand when he's in reach and throws himself into the bedroom with success.

                 "Nice." Taehyung grins brightly. "Alright, next!"

                 "If we must," Hoseok cusses under his breath and latches himself onto the wall. "Watch my , Jim."

                 "I-I'll try," Jimin stutters, letting his hands hover over Hoseok's rear end.

                 "Here, here, baby. Come to papa." Taehyung coos, latching onto Hoseok's hand. It unfortunately falls out of his grasp; Hoseok slips on a misleading brick and falls a couple meters onto the grass below.

                 Jimin squeaks a little, running to his rescue. "Are you okay?!"

                 Hoseok groans and sits up, taking a moment to steady himself. "I told you to watch my !"

                 "I-I'm sorry!"

                 He makes another attempt (with Jimin actually holding up his along the way), and safely gets himself into the house with minor injuries and trauma. "Okay, Park Jimin! Your turn," Taehyung says when he notices some stalling on his friend's part.

                 Jimin looks up at him with wide eyes. "Uh..."

                 "Come on, we haven't got all night, soldier."

                 "Is—Is there another option?"

                 "Uh, not really. Come on, I won't let you fall, I promise."

                 "O-Okay." Jimin steps onto the wall, taking his sweet time finding the stable bricks.

                 Taehyung can see how much he's shaking, so he puts a little bit more of himself out the window to reach him sooner. "You got it man, I got you." Once he hoists Jimin into the room, they hold a brief group meeting in the middle of all the smoke. "Squad up!" he yells, putting his hand in the center. The other boys follow through with little to some complaints on how damaged their feet are.

                 "Time is ten-thirty. Is operation bullhorn a go?" Namjoon asks.

                 "I thought it was operation squaddlebug," Jimin says, looking confused.

                 "No, guys, listen..." Taehyung sighs. "It's operation purple giggle horse, geez. Keep up with the times, friends."

                 "Anyway," Namjoon chuckles. "We're ready to go on our individual assignments, right? Meet downstairs in twenty minutes?"

                 "Sounds good! And remember… We avoid Seokjin at all costs." The orange-headed male starts towards the exit when he feels a grip around his waist, holding him back.

                 It’s one of the stoner girls, giggling and laughing as she holds onto him. “Thomas,” she drawls. “Don’t go.”

                 His friends raise their eyebrows and proceed to the door without him. “Good luck with that, mate,” Hoseok snorts, waving carelessly as they disappear. Jimin gives him a supportive thumbs-up.

                 “GUYS!” Taehyung cries, visibly flustered. He tries to pry the girl off him with no luck. Instead, he shuffles and gently moves her to a nearby chair, letting her sit with her arms still tight around his neck. “I, uh. Please let go, I have a very important mission to attend to.”

                 She doesn’t. The girl looks up at him, eyes unfocused due to substance. She’s kind of standard-looking, Taehyung notes, with long, parted hair and pink lips. Still, his experience with females is next to none, so his heart decides it’s a good time to gain speed. “Thomas… will you come back?”

                 “Y-Yeah, I’ll come back!” He starts sweating the longer he’s in her immediate space. “I promise.”

                 “Okay…” She yanks him down until their lips touch, and Taehyung dares not to move a muscle until she finally lets him go. When she does, he makes sure to bolt the hell out of the there.

                 The plan is simple; all four of them scan the venue and sabotage one specific area without getting caught, and before the big show. Jimin’s on kitchen vandalism, Namjoon is on living room exploits, Taehyung himself is going for the washrooms, and Hoseok is marking everywhere else, including the pool in the backyard. They’ve planned little surprises for everyone at the party, and yet a bigger surprise awaits them at the end.

                 By the end of the twenty minutes, Jimin will be in the center of the living room where everyone is dancing. Namjoon will hijack the sound system down there and that’s when Jimin will take over, sweeping the dance floor with his well-deserved solo. After that, they’ll use the speakers to broadcast all the dirt they have on Seokjin. It’s absolutely fool-proof, and by the end of it, they’ll be able to take down a king and rise up as, Taehyung quotes, ‘Princes of the Party.’

                 He’s in the downstairs washroom doing a good job of pouring glitter water into the sink and toilet when some guy walks in, unsteadily holding the doorknob with one hand and a red cup in the other. “F-Fam… What’re you…” he slurs, rolling his head. “… What’re you doin’, kid.”

                 “Um.” Taehyung shrugs. “Nothing. I’m not real, you’re just very drunk.”

                 “… True… Here, hold this.” He hands him the cup and proceeds to throw up in the toilet.

                 The first thing Taehyung says is, “MY GLITTER WATER! I WORKED REALLY HARD ON THAT!” before crouching down and sympathetically patting the guy’s back to help him vomit.

                 When the guy stops, he gingerly flushes the toilet and looks at Taehyung, still wobbly. “H-Hey, can you… finish that,” he says, pointing at the cup. “I —I don’t think I should drink anymore.”

                 “Uh.” Taehyung glances at the orange beverage and gulps. “I can’t, I’m not lega—” He bites his tongue before he can make another sound; no one has to know he’s not a senior.

                 “You’re… You’re not what?” The guy squints at him. “Listen, man, I just… I-I just don’t wanna throw away perfectly g-good beer. Y’know? You—You feel?”

                 He hesitates while staring down at the foam, not sure if he should go for it. After a moment, Taehyung sighs, “I mean, I guess,” and tips the cup into his lips.

--

                 Jimin circles the area like a hawk, keeping his eyes out for the familiar silhouettes of his friends. The living room is absolutely amped up, with a mass of bodies jumping about to music he can’t understand. On occasion, people approach him and try to pull him into the crowd, but he knows better; he’s on a mission.

                 “Bamboo, bamboo!” He hears Namjoon’s voice behind him and whirls around, spotting him by a set of large speakers. “How was the kitchen?” the other boy asks loudly when he approaches.

                 “Good,” Jimin answers, sliding his hands over his ears. “Ketchup on the wall, wiener dogs on the floor, all that stuff… where are the other two?”

                 “Hoseok’s in the basement messing with the power box. The electricity’s going to go out in a couple minutes, and you’re up then. As for Taehyung…” He looks around. “Don’t know, I haven’t seen him.”

                 Jimin bites on his lip and tries to drown out the impeding dubstep to think. “I-I’m not going to dance without him here.”

                 Namjoon sighs. “I know.”

                 Hoseok’s voice can be heard not too long after. “Bamboo!” He appears from the crowd with giddy Taehyung wrapped around his shoulders. “I found ‘im dawdling by the washroom. He was trying to eat some piece of bread out of a shoe.”

                 “Wha—What? Why?” Namjoon stares as Taehyung giggles uncontrollably and tries to land a kiss on Hoseok’s cheek. The latter lightly punches him in the gut. “… Is he… under the influence?””

                 “He’s ing smashed, yeah.” Hoseok groans as he shifts his weight. “If he knows he can’t drink, why the hell did he?! How are we supposed to get anything done with this kid drunk?”

                 “I’M NOT DRUNK!” Taehyung suddenly screams, startling them. “I’m not drunk, I’m not drunk, I’m not drunk, I’m not drunk, I swe-ar.”

                 Hoseok rolls his eyes and releases him, letting him tumble towards the wall. “We heard you the first time, you ing drunk.”

                 “T-Tae,” Jimin stutters. He doesn’t believe his eyes; a tipsy best friend is an entirely new experience for him. “Are—Are you sober enough to watch my solo…?”

                 Taehyung, with pink cheeks and all, raises his arms. “WHOO! LET’S GO, PARK JIMIN! LET’S GO, LET’S GO, LET’S—!”

                 “SHUT THE HELL UP!” Hoseok yells. He glances at Jimin. “You ready?”

                 Jimin in a breath and nods. “Y-Yeah.”

                 Within moments, the lights go out and they’re immersed in darkness. A few people start shrieking while others find their way with the light of their phones. Using that, Jimin slinks into the crowd and finds himself directly in the middle of everything he’s ever feared.

                 He closes his eyes and waits until a spotlight—planted there earlier by Hoseok—shines on him. He hears murmurs surrounding him and soon, the heat of sweaty bodies fades as everyone backs away to give him space.

                 The moment he opens his eyes is the moment Namjoon plays the song, his song, allowing it to seep into his skin. This is all he’s ever asked for in his mere teenage years; a stage to call his own, even if it was moist with spilt beer. A captivated audience, even if half of them were too smashed to see straight. And more importantly, the support of his best friends, who more or less wanted to be there for him.

                 Jimin moves his arms from swift lines to gentle, hypnotizing curves, in time with the beat that’s constantly echoing throughout his skull. For once, he’s not a tad bit nervous. Perhaps it’s because he knows Taehyung is standing a couple feet behind him with that dopey look of his, watching his dance like his life depended on it. It’s all he needed to push his anxiety away.

                 He takes his body and bends it to a limit he didn’t know he could handle. With that, Jimin elicits gasps from the crowd, a soft clap afterwards, and after that, some cheering. Soon enough, everyone starts egging him on, bouncing along with the music. He finds a rhythm in the heart of the party, and it’s absolutely exhilarating.

                 It ends much too soon; Jimin wraps up his dance in a standing ovation, and he’s driven to the point of tearing up. He manages to run back to his friends before the crowd collapses on him, but he still receives slurred compliments and pats on the head for being such a ‘baller’.

                 “That was ing great,” Hoseok breathes, punching him across the shoulder. The guy’s finally got a smile on his face, for all that frowning he’s done throughout the night. “We knew you could do it.”

                 “I’m really proud of you,” sobs Namjoon, who slides in a quick hug.

                 Jimin wipes off his sweat and grins, making an attempt to hide his embarrassment. “Okay, since that’s all done with… should we go ahead with the announcement? The roast?”

                 “Yeah, I got the recording and a mic all set up.” Namjoon lifts up a microphone, attached to the same set of speakers. “All we gotta do is get Taehyung to get everyone’s attention and then we can expose Seokjin for who he really is.”

                 “Nice—!” Jimin pauses. “Wait, where did Tae go?”

                 “Oh, um.” The other two exchange glances. “He’s… He’s in the backyard, by the pool.”

                 He narrows his eyes at them. “What’s he doing out there?”

                 “Uh. Seokjin called him out… halfway during your performance,” Namjoon answers warily, rolling the microphone in his hands. “Like, he kind of pulled them outside saying that they had to talk.”

                 “What?!” Jimin is aghast. “We’re supposed to avoid Seokjin at all costs, remember? What is that idiot doing?!”

                  Hoseok shrugs. “Relax. It looked important, n’ besides… he probably knows what he’s doin’.”

                  “HE’S DRUNK.”

                  “… True…”

                  Namjoon lets out a sigh. “Well, anyway, we can’t do anything until he comes back. So… we’ll just have to stall the plan for now. People can learn about the devil later.”

                  “Alright,” Jimin sighs as well. “Okay. I’ll be back then, I have to go pee.”

                   “Guy dances the biggest performance of his life and then has to go pee,” Hoseok snorts. “Hurry back, mate.”

                  He strides out of the living room and after going to relieve himself (in the glitter-speckled toilet), Jimin decides to catch a quick breather outside. After all, his nostrils can only take so much of the smoke that’s floating around.

                  It’s significantly less rowdy out on the porch, though there’s still a group of people lounging around by the driveway, passing each other drinks. He sits on the doorstep and tries to be inconspicuous as possible. By now, it’s completely dark and there are no other signs of life out in the neighborhood.

                  Jimin loses himself in thought; he replays that moment over and over again in his mind, the brief two and a half minutes of him dancing his heart out. To this second he still doesn’t believe it happened. He doesn’t believe he ever had the guts to do such a thing, at a place where he doesn’t belong, no less. However, one thing has been nagging at the back of his mind. The fact that Taehyung left midway is bothering him. Sure, he was drunk and probably doesn't know any better, but he's still bothered.

                  “Well, well, look who it is.” He’s pulled out his thoughts when a low voice creeps from the corner of the driveway. He can’t make out who it is since it’s dark, but it doesn’t sound like anyone he’d recognize. “Park Jimin, right?”

                  He swallows his spit and nods. “Y-Yeah…?” he utters, realizing his mistake too late.

                  “What’s a little junior doing at a seniors’ party?” He can make out the distinct silhouette of a male and several other guys behind him. They loom over him like a flock of crows. “You’re not supposed to be here, kiddo.”

                  “I—!” Jimin looks away and scrambles onto his feet. “Leave me alone…”

                  The male nears with a faint smirk on his face. “Hey, now. We’re not going to rat you out. After all, we’re your boyfriend’s friends.”

                  He furrows his eyebrows and looks at him again. “Yoongi doesn’t have friends.”

                  The senior is caught by surprise until he looks at his friends and laughs with them. “… Alright, then. I guess we’ll just have to introduce ourselves properly.” His grin turns into a scowl so dark, a shiver radiates down Jimin’s spine. “We’re the guys your boyfriend got suspended from school.”

                  Blood drains from his face as Jimin tries to step aside, only to find another guy blocking his way back into the party; he’s surrounded. “Y-You were the people who pushed him down the stairs,” he breathes hard.

                  “That’s right, . Do me a favor.” His collar is yanked forward until he’s forced onto his toes. “Tell the fairy that if he doesn’t go and bite off his own , his precious little Jimin is gonna—!”

                  The door swings open, hitting one of the goons and causing them to disperse. Namjoon is standing in the doorway, his eyes wide and his face pale with alarm. “Jim. Come with me, now.”

                  Jimin doesn’t hesitate for another second. He pushes the guy off him and runs, escaping into the house with Namjoon on his tail. “Thanks for saving me,” he whimpers, wiping his eye. “I didn’t know what to do, I—!”

                  “I didn’t save you from anything,” the other male replies with a low tone. “I needed you immediately.”

                  He glances at him as they pass by the living room, towards the door to the backyard. “Did something happen?”

                  “It’s Taehyung. Hoseok, he—he already pulled him out and we called for an ambulance,” Namjoon stammers. His hands shake as he rubs his face; it’s unlike him to be so anxious. “But he’s not waking up and I—I don’t know what to do.”

                  Jimin turns to the backyard and the first thing he sees is Hoseok, dripping wet from head to toe, screaming at the crowd of onlookers by the pool. “DOESN’T ANYONE IN THIS ING PLACE KNOW A OF CPR?!” he yells, “WHY DIDN’T ANYONE BOTHER TO SAVE HIM?!”

                  He’s kneeling next to Taehyung, who’s also wet and lying unconscious on the ground. The first thing he registers is the fact that ‘Tae can’t swim’. Everything begins to fade out. Suddenly, Jimin can’t hear, and the longer he stares at Taehyung’s unmoving body, the more he loses himself.

                  The second thing he registers is Seokjin, pale as a sheet, standing at the edge of the pool before everything goes black.