Their friends are being picked off one by one, and danger looms over their heads. They have to get out, before it's too late.  

After their escape from the facility they were held in for years, Baekhyun and Jongdae struggle to regroup with their friends, who are all scattered across the globe.

They're seven guys living in the same house; Yoongi and Jungkook are just being practical, really.

Yoongi likes cacti, so Jungkook gets him one.

A lot can happen in five days.

Daehyun doesn't feel like he's home- until Youngjae comes for a visit.

The first time it happens, it’s 3AM. The second time it happens, Taehyung has G-Dragon’s Who You bursting through his earphones. The third time it happens, Taehyung’s bed turns into the most comfortable place on Earth. The fourth time it happens, they both know it already. The fifth time doesn’t happen.

This time, they both have stars in their eyes.

Jongup splutters. “Shouldn’t you be following the instructions, dad?” He asks hesitantly, glancing at his twin. Junhong just looks horrified. "I don’t need them." "You’re not even using the hammer right!" 

Daehyun has learnt from experience that Youngjae can be pretty frightful when truly mad, and he doesn’t want to awaken the beast. 

He’s still struggling to realize that he’s a father now when they bring Yongguk home for the first time.

In which Daehyun spends the entire night blogging and Youngjae is literally done with everything.

It feels like listening to the instrumental version of your favorite song for the first time and waiting for the lyrics to start, only they never do- that’s what it feels like. Falling in love, that is.

"What," Daehyun starts as soon as he’s in front of his petrified son, his eyes menacing and his hands on his hips, "the hell happened?"

The morning of their twentieth anniversary is light and soft and it feels surreal when Youngjae opens his eyes.

A fresh morning rises on New York, and they welcome it like the good old American boys they are.

The door to the roof is already slammed open when Taehyung finally reaches it, a panting and sweaty mess of a human being. It’s windy and the sky’s a mix of pastel pink and baby blue bleeding into each other and Jungkook’s sitting with his back to the door, leaning against the wall with his knees pulled to his chest and his jet black hair shining in the slowly dimming light.

And the truth is that if he’d die tomorrow, he’d die without anyone knowing him, the real him, and that bothers him a little.

Daehyun thinks that this is, by far, the happiest he’s ever been in his entire life.