It appeared that coming to his apartment as guest was being a trend. A couple of days later it was Hoseok who did, knocking on his door with constant persistence. Hoseok, of all people. Hoseok never came to his apartment alone, usually with Namjoon or Seokjin, but most certainly not alone. Yoongi certainly didn’t need any more sunshine or so since Jung Hoseok was a perfect reincarnation of one. Seeing the boy felt like going out to the beach, scorching himself under the blazing sun and even though Yoongi was indeed pale, he didn’t need any tanning whatsoever in the time being. At least Hoseok wasn’t pulling such an antic like Jimin. He just kept on knocking and at some point Yoongi had grown tired of the knock.

He opened the door with a groan and Hoseok buried him in another hug like usual. Yoongi hated it, trying to squirm his way from Hoseok’s arms. At the same time he realized how different it was compared to Jimin’s. He didn’t know why he felt so comfortable with the boy and found Hoseok’s to be disgusting he felt like he had to shower three times afterwards (he was joking and being purely hyperbolic, of course). At least Hoseok was being decent enough to bring him some mcdonalds and he found himself missing the taste of a burger on his bud taste. It felt like forever since he last ate. They ate on the kitchen table, Yoongi being silent as usual and Hoseok ranted on about whatever it was that could be ranted. It was in the middle of Hoseok provoking him to make another promise of going out of his apartment did Yoongi finally raise his voice and asked rather menacingly.

“You guys are taking turns, huh?”

“What do you mean, hyung?”

“You’re taking turns checking on me.”

There was a slight twitch to Hoseok’s smile, an expression as if he was a thief being caught red-handed and Yoongi knew that he was right. The Jung wouldn't even be here if it weren't his other two friends encouraging him to. Or maybe the boy did volunteer. Either way he certainly knew now that his friends were talking and scheming something behind his back.

“You don’t have to, you know,” he said, growing tired of this conversation.

“Have you been sleeping well then, hyung?”

It must have been Seokjin’s question. He hadn’t bought any sleeping pills like he had promised, but at least he got to sleep that one time when Jimin was coming over, so the answer that he got waiting at the tip of his tongue wouldn’t be classified as a lie.

“Pretty much.”

Hoseok hummed in approval. The younger boy dragged him for a movie that night, lounging on his favorite couch with a cliché romcom playing on his gigantic plasma TV even though he had tried his best to refuse the offer and made some threat of kicking the boy’s out. It was pretty much like Jimin, but different, he realized. Even as the younger somehow had fallen asleep on his shoulder, mouth opened wide and looking ridiculous, he still thought about how different it was compared to Jimin. The two were so much alike but at the same time so very different. 

And he couldn’t really grasp what it was about Jimin that made the boy’s touch seemed tolerable to him.

.

Hoseok left when Yoongi accidentally woke the boy’s up, his shoulder feeling stiff and he tried to shift it so very gently. The younger woke up instead to a stuttering sorry before he left, only to coax him outside again. This time it was for the sake of him landing an opportunity to open a gig for this famous dance crew that was going to tour the whole nation. It appeared that in the time he had been spending his time inside of his apartment, Hoseok’s dance crew had climbed its way towards the top, landing another gig in a few Hongdae clubs and got noticed after their third performance or so out of pure luck.

He said to Hoseok that he was happy for him, making the boy smiled widely again with eyes sparkling. He somehow felt guilty instead, since deep down he didn’t feel anything, only saying the word out of obligation. But still, having one of his friends achieving something didn’t put him in a foul mood, so at least that was a good sign. At least that reminded him that he was still a person with moral conscious. Being a person with moral conscious, though, pretty much got him agreeing to Hoseok’s nagging in the end. Going out to celebrate, the boy said. He actually growled and whined, the argument got him standing in front of his door and Hoseok already in the hallway, ramming his hand between the door, trying to stop Yoongi for slamming it on his face and disappeared behind the door like he always did.

“Come on, hyung. Just one night out to celebrate. You won’t be seeing me again after this. It’s your last chance to see me before you realized that you’ll be missing this hobi,” he said, pointing towards himself. He made a mental note how he definitely needed to throw up after hearing Hoseok calling himself 'hobi'.

The only word that he heard was ‘not seeing him again’ and in the end Yoongi gave in like he usually did, only after another threat that the celebration would be held at his apartment instead if he didn’t want to go out of it. He clearly couldn’t comprehend (more like wouldn’t want to) the idea of ‘bringing the party to your door’ that Hoseok had offered and threatened him with. In the end he could only click his tongue and glare right at the boy after he breathed out a small ‘yes’.

Like always the young man had buried himself in another form of hug.

.

The thing about finding the day of the month practically not significantwas having his friends knocked on the door of his apartment, popping up casually with a smile, reminding him that it was the Saturday that he had promised to go out on and being completely oblivious that it was already Saturday. He could only grumble as he saw Seokjin, Namjoon and Hoseok appearing on his door, the three of them already felt like too much of a crowd for him. It was Saturday and he didn’t even realize it. The only thing that he realized was how it was another fourth consecutive day of no sleep. He’d never had four. Normally it would only be three with an hour of so sleep here and there, but this time it was four with only a few naps here and there and it hardly felt like a proper sleep. If days and dates could no longer serve as a proper time measurement for him, then maybe the lack of sleep and how many had he spent with eyes wide opened could easily replace it, since he was definitely more aware of that fact than the petty details as which day it was.

It was definitely four agonizing days, since opening the door had somehow caused him a headache already. The headache usually wouldn’t come unless he set his foot outside, but this time feeling the outside air gushing in through the door had him already feeling like fainting. The slow thump started to build in his head and Yoongi had to squint his eyes to see his friends or he started to think that he was having six guests instead of three.

“You stink, hyung. When’s the last time you take a shower?” ask Hoseok as the man once again hugged him. He wanted to pry him off but realized that he was too tired for it. Hoseok’s hug had recently felt like an iron grip around his body.

“I don’t know,” he grumbled, letting the three of them poured into his apartment.

Seokjin walked towards his pantry, clicking his tongue at the lack of food there while Namjoon and Hoseok lounged at the couch, clicking the television on.

“Forget shower. When’s the last time you had a proper meal?”

He had to restock. Somehow the grocery he had bought for a month’s worth back at that 3 am ride didn’t last a month either. How could it be? He was sure he had bought a plenty amount. Or maybe a month had indeed passed? Time did sure fly then.

“The last time Hoseok came, I think. I don’t know,” he answered truthfully, remembering the burger’s taste on his mouth and missing it already. 

“Hyung, when’s the last time you-,”

“I swear to god if someone started to question me with the words ‘when’s the last time’ I’m going to lock myself up in my room and never come out,” he growled, messing up his hair and going to the bathroom, avoiding conversation.

He walked to his bathroom and decided to take a shower since god knows how long. The warm water against his back served as very little relaxation for him. The moment he saw his reflection clearly against the mirror Yoongi could only sigh. The wound on his forehead had disappeared, leaving no trace or scar. This time what replaced them as something entirely prominent on his face were the bags under his eyes, black and almost purple-looking. He looked like a corpse, his skin was paler than it could ever be (and he was already pale to begin with). Even he could tell how he had lost a significant amount of weight, his ribs were protruding from behind his taut skin.

He was changing into his clothes in his room when the door swung opened slightly. It was the eldest hyung, coming inside his bedroom. He was about to complain, shooting him with something along the line of ‘respecting someone else’s privacy’ when he realized that he was too tired for doing that already. He had only put on his jeans and the tee shirt he was going to pull over his head was still laid out on the bed.

“Yoongi, what’s wrong?” Seokjin asked softly.

And even he was too tired to be annoyed at the same question being repeated over and over again like a broken record.

“I’ve told you, I’m fine. I’m perfectly okay.”

And he was as much as a broken record himself with the same answer escaping his lips.

What else could the answer be? That he was not all right? What could there be for him to not be all right? He didn’t have the right to answer that he wasn’t all right, was he? Because there wasn’t one thing in this world that indicated that he was in agony. No, he was fine. He was perfectly okay.

“Stop lying to me.”

The word made him mad, somehow. Why did his friends keep on accusing him, keep on asking, when he didn’t even know what was wrong with him to begin with.

“I’m not lying, okay!” Yoongi said, yelling.

Seokjin just stood there, the door behind his back as if implying that he wouldn't be able to escape this conversation easily.

“When’s the last time you sleep?”

Yoongi sighed.

“I don’t know. I haven’t had a proper sleep since like, four days ago,” he said, taking back his composure and ruffling his damp hair, burying his face into his own palm. His eyelid didn't feel heavy. His headache came and gone. He just laid there on the couch, looking back at his faint reflection on the TV screen. 

“You didn’t take any prescription pills?”

He shook his head, face still on his palms. He knew that Seokjin would probably be mad about it.

“I have had a good night sleep after I said about my sleeping problem to you so I think that I wouldn’t need it.”

Seokjin would be mad. He would think that he was lying. He did feel like it, like a little boy making excuses and caught in action when he was dipping one hand into a cookie jar he wasn't supposed to take. The young man would probably drag him to a doctor, would probably call the ambulance right at that exact moment. Instead he took a step forward, inching his way towards Yoongi. He was about to raise his hand, probably placing it on his shoulder before he fist it instead, remembering how Yoongi hated such contact and took it down. Seokjin pursed his lips before he looked at Yoongi, towering above him. The elder had always been taller than him.

“Yoongi, please. Tell me what’s wrong with you so I could fix it.”

He thought that the elder was going to do something else. Pointed the flaw written clearly on his body, said something about how sick he looked, pulled him into a hug, glared at him until he spilled out something that satisfied him, shouting and being angry, even. But no, Seokjin just stood there, looking at him in the eye, waiting for him to answer. More like begging, even, for anything that would escape Yoongi's lips. It wasn’t like he hide anything behind his back. Sure he crashed on someone. Sure he heard voices. Sure he had nightmares, and probably the fear of it was the one holding him back from sleeping. But there would undoubtedly be a logical explanation behind it all and it didn’t really mean that there was something wrong with him.

He didn’t know why his friend was so desperate on this possibility that he was not fine. And maybe Yoongi too started hoping for it. So maybe if there was indeed something wrong with him he could come up with an explanation for his action. Sadly he found none and he realized how it drove him crazy. He didn’t think that there was something going on with him yet his friends kept on pestering him like there was.

As if there was something that had happened and he had forgotten about it.

As if he was going crazy and he didn’t even realize it.

“I’m not broken, hyung. There’s nothing for you to fix,” he said, turning around from Seokjin and putting on the oversize t-shirt that he had laid on the bed over his head. His head was starting to pulse and his headache made a threat of knocking in like it always did.

He grabbed a jacket from his closet and went out of his bedroom, ignoring Seokjin’s words. Outside, Hoseok and Namjoon were waiting for him, eyes peeled on a particular TV show.

“Come on, let’s go,” he said to the other two.

“I think you should stay home, Yoongi. Get some rest,” Seokjin said, coming out from his bedroom, following his footsteps.

Somehow it was him who was mad. He was angry for what the boy had said. He was angry for someone worrying for him. It didn’t make any sense, indeed, but it was what he felt at the moment. All his friends’ worry had done nothing but frustrate him. For someone who was numb to feelings, anger came naturally recognizable.

“What do you mean? We should celebrate now, right? Going out like Hoseok had said,” Yoongi said, making his voice sounded as cheerful as he could with a smile on his face. His muscle felt stiff, doing something he hadn’t done in ages. Smiling.

Hoseok didn’t get the idea that it was sarcasm. The boy stood up, yelling a ‘hell yeah’ and being as a stupid cheerful like he was, giving Yoongi exactly the remark that he waited for.

“No, I think Seokjin-hyung’s right. You don’t look too good, hyung,” Namjoon had said, sounded worried.

“I don’t look good? I’ve never felt this awesome,” Yoongi said, still sporting the same grin on his face again. Now this was indeed a lie.

“Yoongi,” Seokjin called out again, repeating his name with his motherly tone of being worried for the hundredth time already. He could even feel the elder’s gaze, drilling its way to the back of his skull. He hated that gaze. Everything about it made him even more sick.

“I just need some air. Don’t you guys want me to come out of my apartment?” he said again. His friends should be happy, shouldn’t they? He was finally giving them what they wanted. Going out from his apartment. Wasn’t that all that they’d been begging him to do?

Namjoon sighed before he got up from the couch, seemingly giving in to the argument. If Namjoon did then Seokjin wouldn’t have had any reason to refuse his wish.

“You’re sure, Yoongi?” Seokjin asked.

He didn’t answer that, simply grabbing his car keys from the bowl and motioned towards the door, opening it and waiting for his friends to follow after a short ‘what are you guys waiting for’. They all finally complied, getting out of the apartment and Yoongi thought how long of a night it would be. When they finally got on the elevator, feet fidgeting and the headache came knocking him hard, only then did Seokjin’s question echoed in his mind.

Was he sure?

Definitely not.

.

They split into two cars. Hoseok got on his while Namjoon got on Seokjin’s. He had purposely asked for Hoseok’s companion, not wanting to be repeatedly questioned and interrogated by the eldest hyung. The only downfall was having the boy talked loudly, though Hoseok certainly had known him better to shut his mouth from time to time unlike Jimin and Taehyung. If he had to make a ranking, Taehyung would definitely be on the top of the loudest and obnoxious people he’d ever known. The other thing with Hoseok was how he had known the boy for long, smacking him in the head when he finally had enough was a thing he got to do. If he had done the same thing to his neighbor, especially in a supervised elevator, Mrs. Kim would probably do something as much as sue him.

The long elevator ride had turned into a torture chamber. His headache came knocking hard and he had to place his hand on the side wall, supporting himself from falling. He tried to hide the pain, walking towards his car with a certain jittery Hoseok tailing him. Dragging his feet behind, he thought how much of a zombie he really looked like now.

“Your headlight’s broken,” Hoseok said, as they got to his car.

He didn’t even answer to it, only wanting to get back behind the wheel and finally finding a spot to sit on because standing on his two feet felt too much already. His body felt like they were going to faint any minute. Hoseok got on the next seat, still babbling about a broken headlight.

“It’s the right one. The left one is perfectly intact. Did you run over something? It looks like it,” the boy said, putting on the seatbelt before he turned his attention towards Yoongi. “Hey, you okay? You look sick, hyung. I think we really should have stayed.”

Yoongi groaned. He wouldn’t want that.

“I’m fine,” he said, turning on the engine with sweaty palm and drove out of the basement.

His head was pounding even more so the moment they got on to the open road. He gulped, keeping his eyes on the street. Hoseok was quiet, looking at him with such concern. They wouldn’t go to Hongdae this time, agreeing on this big Gangnam club that Ikje used to come. Him and Donghyuk were already there. Hunchul and Hyosang would come as well probably. The only relief that came from it, was knowing that the place wasn’t that far away from his apartment the journey wouldn’t take that much of a time.

Like always he had to cross this one intersection, the one in which he crashed Jimin on. There was another rundown club closed to it, explaining how there would always be drunkards loitering around at such an ungodly hour of the early morning. That and some homeless people, pushing carts along the pathway. The light turned red and he stopped, resting his elbow at the closed window of his car, supporting his aching head. The red light at that particular intersection had always been too long everyone's liking. Even now, the memory of crashing Jimin gnawed on him, making that very spot one of the least place he would like to be. Bad memory gave him this weird, churning feeling in his stomach, or maybe it was just the headache finally extending its pain somehow towards his torso.

At that point Hoseok had started to open his big mouth again, talking about how the government should take care of the homeless and about random accident that happened in that very intersection, something about a girl being crashed by a car in the middle of a night. He certainly didn’t need to hear any of that. His headache wasn’t even letting him process the thought, actually.

“And you know the worst thing, hyung? The police found no screeching marks which meant that the car didn’t even stop until it hit that poor girl. Can you believe it?”

No, he couldn’t believe in anything. . He couldn’t even keep himself together properly.

“I mean what kind of a er wouldn’t stop for a girl? He must be one hell of a-,"

Can you just shut up?

"-murderer.”

His heart stopped beating. What did Hoseok just say?

“What did you just say?”

He turned his head around, looking at Hoseok. The young man just eyed him back, looking as confused as he was.

“What’s wrong, hyung? You look like you’ve seen a ghost or something.”

The word wasn’t addressed to him. He wasn’t delusional. He didn’t just imagine the word out of thin air, being spoken towards him by voices unexplainable. No, this was Hoseok mentioning the very word only as a passing of a story, entirely not meant for him.

He sighed, rubbing his eyes with the back of his palm before turning his gaze back towards the road, hands back on the steering wheel.

“Nothing,” he replied back, the light turning green as he did so and he quickly stomped on the gas, wanting to leave that very intersection as fast as he could.

Because Min Yoongi was fine.

He was perfectly okay.

.

Min Yoongi was fine.

He was perfectly okay.

He was perfectly capable of walking in the club, tightly packed with bodies, the air reeked of alcohol and the stereo practically banging on his eardrum. He was perfectly capable of finding his way through Ikje’s booth, the man had waited for them there with shots of whisky. He was perfectly capable of downing a few shots with an empty stomach (it was empty or at least he thought since he couldn’t even figure out the last time he ate) without feeling like throwing up for the first couple of hour. He was perfectly capable of holding a proper conversation, letting the alcohol took over his tongue and pretend to be as joyful as he could.

Throughout the night he could feel Seokjin’s eyes on him, eyeing him cautiously, as if waiting for him to break at any moment. Even in the midst of his banging headache he could pretend to be enjoying his time and it was probably the alcohol taking over since he was actually feeling for the first time since forever. He was lost in between probably the tenth toast of that night, dedicated for Hoseok and his dance crew and their glorious achievement. The said boy was laughing too loudly now and had probably dragged everyone else towards the dance floor. Namjoon was already being a drunken fool like always, babbling about stuff and screaming about Jasmine again. This time Seokjin had downed a shot, or probably Hyosang had sneaked a tiny bit of alcohol into his drink, for the young man was now leaning too close to the other, looking sleepy and wasted already. Good. He didn't need to worry about being babysit by the young man anymore.

His headache was in the verge of being gone or too painful it had hardly mattered anymore. He was practically being someone he wasn’t for the past few weeks it started to terrify him, how things could differ as easy as that with a simple amount of alcohol. Maybe that was his problem after all. That was the only thing missing from his life, the thing that could right him and probably sent those worried gaze finally away from his back : Alcohol. Maybe it was his mean of escape. It wasn’t yet. Maybe it should be. Look at him, only a few amount of alcohol and he had gone back to the Min Yoongi that everyone loved. He had gone back exactly to that day in which they drank themselves for another one of Hoseok’s stupid occasion in NB until he was too drunk to even talk straight. That day felt only like yesterday, but at the same time felt like it was years ago. Everything in his head was blurry and philosophical thought certainly wasn’t a thing right now. Yet, as similar as it was to that day, Yoongi had found himself staggering towards the bathroom and threw up on the toilet he certainly sure wasn't hygienic to begin with.

That was exactly the last thing he remembered, kneeling on the toilet, having the last bit of the remain of his stomach being forcefully pushed back up his throat by the wicked scheme of alcohol. He remembered the cold tiles underneath his feet and the sound of his own throat, gurgling and retching.

Yes, it was his own voice that he heard and he was sure he wasn't hearing screams.

No, he definitely wasn't hearing screams.

.

Yoongi was behind the steering wheel again. His headache was agonizing and he was going definitely too fast for the road. He couldn’t blame himself, though, for he remembered wanting to go home as fast as he could. The smell of alcohol reeked the air and every headlight did nothing but make his eyes squint and his vision blurry. His palms were sweating and his heart was beating loud. Just a little more. Just a little more and he would be home. He knew the street too well and he sure knew that there was this once intersection up front, the one he had to pass every time he had to reach his own apartment with a red light that went too long. From the distance he could see that the light was green. 

"A girl was hit on this very intersection a few months ago."

It would be red by the time he managed to reach it so he practically did whatever a person would do on such an empty road at 3 in the morning. He stomped on the gas even harder and swerved forward, faster than ever.

“And you know the worst thing, hyung? The police found no screeching marks-"

That was when his headache hit him again, much like a person swinging a hammer to his head. Yoongi groaned, closing his eyes for a few seconds, peeling one hand off the steering wheel to massage his forehead. 

"-which meant that the car didn’t even stop until it hit that poor girl. Can you believe it?”

It was something that he did for only a split second, yet the moment he opened his eyes, he could see someone standing right in front of his car, the lights hitting the figure. It didn’t take long for him to even register who could it be, only to realize that there was indeed someone standing in front of his car with eyes wide opened, seemingly as surprised as he was. 

"He must be one hell of a murderer."

Something snapped inside of Yoongi and he stomped on the break hard, swerving away from the figure, turning his steering wheel like crazy. It was pretty much like what he did when he crash on Jimin, but this time he managed to balance on the gas and the break. Instead his car swung like crazy, drifting off the road towards the other end of the intersection before it crashed on a nearby pole, hitting the rear end of the car with a loud bang. Yoongi felt the impact, his body shook and head spinning around. The car finally stopped spinning and he let out a huge breath, feeling all of his limbs turned into jellies.

What had happened? Did he crash on someone again? Wait. The last thing he remembered was vomiting back at the club. Yes, he was doing that exactly before his vision got blurry and he couldn't remember anything else. It was like someone just pushed the skip button in his mind and he had suddenly found himself back behind the steering wheel. He was driving home from the club before he got to that intersection again and he saw someone.

Only this time it wasn't a dream. It was very much real and that meant he had just about to crash on someone now, hadn't he?

The thought finally got him opening the car's door in a haste. The shock was still over him, pretty much like it did during that first time he crashed on Jimin. Only this time there wasn't any bleeding forehead and that alone explained why he wasn't so queasy. But then again, after seeing the mess that he'd made, he probably would have turned queasy already. He walked around the car to see a massive scratch at the rear right of his car, shattering the light and making an apparent dent out of it.

He then turned his head around towards the intersection, trying to find the person he was about to crash. He sure was cursed in this very intersection, he thought, because he kept crashing on people here and it was practically the fault of his headache and the ing red light. And that was the moment when he realized that the intersection was empty.

His blood ran cold.

The intersection was empty. There was no one there but Yoongi and his broken car.

He was sure he saw someone. A person he was about to crash. There was indeed someone. This couldn't be some sort of a dream now, could it? Could it be that he did hit the person and he  or she was flung towards the air? Even if that was the case the body wouldn't disappear just like that and he would have felt the impact. The only thing that he felt and the one that convinced him that this wasn't a dream was the impact he felt as his car crashed on the pole. Yoongi buried his face in his palm, his breath had suddenly became heavier and his headache came rushing in. Was he imagining this all? Was this even a reality? He couldn't even differ which from which now. He was back in the club last he remembered before he blackout and found himself behind the steering wheel. Was this a reality or simply something his mind had been playing on himself?

In the midst of his confusion at least one thing was clear. Something he realized, a fact spoken crystal clear.

He hadn't run into someone else.

Min Yoongi wasn't a murderer.

(Which would only explain that Min Yoongi was crazy instead)