Jiyong received food in the morning and judged by what Jiyong heard, so did Jiho, then Jiyong was allowed to use the bathroom. He didn't shower, though, as that disgusting piece of cloth seemed to still be the same as the day before. He wasn't moving a lot, so maybe showering every second day would be sufficient, he hoped.
“New clothes would be great, though.”, he sighed.
Instead, he washed Jiho's scarf to cool his face with under the shower to make it look like he had used it – maybe the kidnappers didn't know they could talk to each other through the doors. Maybe they wouldn't like it if they did.
He paused for a second when he turned off the water – was he becoming paranoid?
When he sat down in front of Jiho's door, Jiyong realized that he was clutching to the scarf like it was some kind of plushie. It was somewhat comforting to him, it made him feel less alone since they had taken Jiho.
“How are you doing, Jiho? Could you sleep? Are you getting enough to drink?”, he asked through the door. Worrying for the younger made him worry less for himself.
“Well, I didn't sleep much, to be honest.”, Jiho answered after a few seconds, his voice sounding muffled and distant. Had he been crying?
“It's pretty hard to last the whole night... and day to the next evening with only that cup of broth.”, he added.
Now it sounded like he had moved closer to the door, but he still sounded somewhat strange.
Jiyong raised an eyebrow and changed position – his back was aching from sleeping on the hard concrete floor.
“If you need more water, Jiho, I could leave your scarf in the shower. You can soak it and take it with you in reserve. It would be far cleaner than this... towel they gave us.”
Jiho was silent for a moment. Jiyong wondered what was going on. Did he fall asleep?
“But if they take it from us?”, the younger asked. “There's nowhere you could hide the scarf. And you couldn't cool your face anymore...”
Jiyong didn't like how passive Jiho sounded. Jiho's next words he even liked less:
“I think they'll most likely take it away  – we could hang ourselves by it somehow, after all. They won't risk this.”
Jiyong didn't know what to say.
There's nothing in the bathroom to hang yourself by, stupid. And I hope that applies for you cell, too. Stop being so depressed, please.
He tried a different topic.
“Listen, Jiho. I think there's only one person of them taking care of us most of the time. Only one of them unlocking the bathroom door and bringing food.”
Jiho's voice finally sounded closer when he answered. “Yeah, I thought so, too, yesterday. Do you think... we could escape somehow? Using that door that leads into your room, the one they brought us here through?”
It had only been a vague idea in the back of Jiyong's mind, but apparently Jiho was a bright guy.
“Yeah, something like that, maybe. Let's wait and see if they establish some patterns. Let's see who will get the trays back, for example. I'd bet they'll come in by twos again.”
“Okay, okay.”, Jiho didn't sound as tired anymore. “But then I think you have the better chance to escape since the door's in your room.”
Before Jiyong could answer, he heard footsteps and quickly said goodbye to Jiho.
When he jumped up, the two younger kidnappers entered the room, one of them armed. Jiyong wasn't surprised at all that they used their “advantage in numbers” to collect the trays, like he had predicted.
With a wisp of contempt he wondered why they even bothered.

The next hours elongated endlessly with his breath being the only sound interrupting the silence. Jiyong stood with his back against the door and stared at the floor. He had no idea how much time had passed. Jiho was still locked up, so it still wasn't evening yet.
He looked at his fingers, crumpled from the wet scarf he kept scrunching up, sighed and was sure he would die of boredom.
Finally, Jiyong started singing to relieve the pressure on his ears. He sang some of his own songs, songs by other bands and singers he liked, happy and stupid songs from his childhood, lullabys his mother had sung to him...
At first he couldn't prevent a few tears from running down his cheeks when his emotions started overwhelming him. He wondered what his family was doing right now, his fellow bandmembers, his friends. Surely they knew by now that he had been kidnapped. Probably they were worried sick and did everything to find him.
After a few more minutes of singing, he started feeling better – his thoughts stopped circling through negativity and it felt like a part of him had left this cell and breathed fresh air again.
Considering the fact he was a person of the public, it was very likely TV had covered his missing. Maybe half of the country was looking for GDragon and Zico right now. Their kidnappers had demanded a lot of money for Jiho and him, so they would have had to contact the media or their agencies somehow.

Some time in the afternoon, right in the second chorus of Bang Yongguk's “I Remember”, when Jiyong finally felt his voice tire, he opened his eyes after having kept them shut for an hour or so and looked at the door that led to the stairs outside. Singing had made him so positive, he was almost expecting a rescue-team to burst through this door into the room every second.
When Jiho was finally allowed to use the bathroom, Jiyong felt happier than ever since he had been dragged out of his dressing room. He jumped up to meet Jiho at the door.
At first, he heard the sound of water, probably Jiho had to drink his fill.
“I heard you singing, Jiyong.”, Jiho greeted him after turning off the water. “Great idea! I wanted to sing, too, but then I actually spent more time sitting and pricking up my ears to listen to you.”
He somehow managed to sound like an enthusiastic fan.
Jiyong grinned and shook his head. He was glad the younger seemingly had recovered from his gloomy mood.
“Thanks. Don't think I'll sing for you the whole time – next is your turn!”, Jiyong repeated.
“But back to serious: It's just a matter of time until we're rescued, I think. We're too valuable, they won't harm us. Well, at least not worse than they already have. Maybe... we should just keep a low profile and keep observing, Jiho. The police will need our information when they catch those guys.”
“So, no forging out escape plans?”
“Naah, just keeping our eyes open.”
Jiho didn't answer for a while and Jiyong wondered whether he was upset about this proposal.
“I don't like sitting around doing nothing, Jiyong. They beat you up, after all! But the deadline for your ransom ends this evening, doesn't it? Or maybe tomorrow, I don't know when they submitted their demand...”
Jiyong had to swallow first before answering. He had successfully repressed any thought of the deadline and any speculation about what might happen after it. The memory of himself sitting in that room upstairs was just... rather painful and humiliating.
Suddenly his worries were back.
In the meantime, Jiho went on: “When it's this evening, maybe the cops planned to arrest them when they handed over the money. So maybe they're on their way to us right now and that guy who let me in here is the only one left of them.”
Jiyong's mouth became dry. Jiho's story sounded made up. Did he even believe it himself? Was he trying to unsettle or to comfort Jiyong?
Laying a hand on the door, Jiyong wished he could see Jiho's eyes.
Being confined did strange things to him, he realized. He barely knew Jiho, but now he sat here in his cell, clinging to Jiho's scarf, without using it to cool his bruises anymore, listening to Jiho's voice and just wishing for them to not be separated anymore.
“...hyung? Are you alright?”
Jiyong tried to not let his voice sound as perturbed as he felt right now.
“It's just... I think being jailed really affects your psyche after some time. I'm feeling a little down right now. I completely forgot about the deadline...”
“I am so sorry, Jiyong, I didn't mean to-”
“It's not your fault, Jiho.”
A gentle knock on the door made him look at it in confusion.
“I know how you feel, Jiyong. I really admire you for being so strong, though. My cell is so confined and dirty and dark, I feel like I'm going crazy. Sometime it seems the ceiling is coming down to crush me...” Jiho laughed shyly.
Jiyong stared at the door in shock and remembered the condition Jiho had been in this morning. Immediately he felt like he had less right to lament – Jiho was really suffering over there.
“Thank you for singing.”, Jiho added. “I... didn't feel very well before, but then I heard your voice. Focusing on it did good to me.”
A sudden warmth spread inside Jiyong's chest.
“You're welcome, Jiho. Sorry for... I won't let you down again, okay? Just keep your head up! Try to sing yourself if you don't feel well, okay?”
“Yeah. Sorry, I don't want you to worry. I'm better now.”
Jiyong couldn't help but remember Jiho talking about hanging oneself with the scarf before and the memory gave him chills.
“Jiho? Will you promise me something?”
He wondered how to phrase his next sentence. “Don't leave me here alone, okay? Don't be selfish. I'm suffering, too. Please. I know I'm the older one, but right now I can't... I hate being separated, too, okay?”
“I promise, Jiyong-Hyung.”, Jiho sounded agitated. “Sorry. I'll get my together.”
This moment, the bathroom door was unlocked from outside.
Jiyong could hear Jiho being ordered back into his room, the door being shut after some moments, then his own door opened and he received his lunch. He listened to his door being locked, to the steps leaving the bathroom and the bathroom door being locked.
He ate, humming some random melodies, before curling up with his back to the wall next to the door, Jiho's scarf under his head, pressed to his cheek.
After a while, the silence he was listening to was mixed with faint sounds from across his walls. When Jiyong listened closely, he could make out Jiho's voice, singing. He barely understood the words, but heard the melodies.
With a faint smile on his face, he fell asleep.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Feel free to leave a comment - criticism or praise, I appreciate both =D