Bored, I kicked an empty can that was lying in front of me on the sidewalk and groaned in frustration. Once again a boring and uneventful day came to an end. The sun had already set and only the light from the street lamps lit the path in front of me. I was alone on the way home, as I had been for four years. My classmates did not associate with me ... or was it me who did not associate with them? Every time I talked to someone and tried to socialize, I painfully realized that this weren’t my friends I was talking to. I had friends, and the more time went by without them, the more I became aware of the fact that no one could replace them. I wasn't ready to make new friends but something still prevented me from contacting my old friends. How many times had I held my phone in my hands, had the number of one of them light up on the display and put it away again? Far too often. It was almost a ritual. So I spent my free time alone. After school I walked around so I wouldn't come home early and see the worried faces of my parents. It was better to pretend I had friends I was with than to worry them. The can rattled loudly when I kicked it again and it bounced off the wall. It was getting late, I should probably make my way back home. Again I kicked the can. Slowly I felt like I was going crazy, because every day looked the same to me. There was nothing I wanted or could do in my free time and there was nobody I could or wanted to talk to ... I was desperate. I was alone. At some point I wouldn’t force myself to get up in the morning and go to school, but just lay there because it made no difference. I hadn't felt any excitement or real joy in a long time. With furrowed brows I thought hard about the last time I had really felt something, not these dull feelings that disappeared after a brief moment, but something real ... something real if it was just fear or sadness. My emotional world seemed to be frozen and no matter what I did, nothing got through to me. I remembered that when I searched the Internet about what could be wrong with me, the word "depression" came up and a humourless smile appeared on my face. A kick to the can and a clatter in response. As if ... just because I have a headache, I don't have to have a brain tumour. Or maybe it was just my character ... maybe I wasn't made to really feel and act out emotions. A broadly grinning face came before my inner eye and I had to smile again. Another kick. Hoseok ... a pure bundle of feelings ... what was he doing right now? Was he singing a song with a big grin and to the cheers of his friends while dancing? That would suit him and I would like it if my imagination was the reality. I looked up when there was no rattling from the kicked can which threw me out of my rhythm. The can was stuck under the foot of an older boy who was standing with his friend on the corner of the main street. With a cigarette in hand, he grinned at his friend and gestured to me with a grin.
"What do we have here?" He shouted at me and I rolled my eyes in annoyance.
He flicked the cigarette away and then the two of them came towards me. I kept my eyes down and pretended not to notice the two. The best thing would be to just go ahead and not give them a chance to attack.
"Well, little one, don't you have to be in bed at this time?" Asked the taller of the two and his friend laughed.
I didn't answer again and tried to push past them without touching them. I had no time or desire to deal with such failures. As I tried to walk between them, one of the boys grabbed my arm and yanked me around to face them.
"Are you deaf? We are talking to you!" He hissed.
I looked at him indifferently and couldn't suppress an equally indifferent shrug. Suddenly I was grabbed by the collar and pushed against the garage door of a closed shop. A deep rumble came from the throat of the guy in front of me and he smelled so strong of alcohol that it almost made me dizzy. I took his hand, which was still holding my collar, and tore myself away from him impatiently.
"Don't touch me, you stink," I snapped at him.
For a split second the two young men seemed surprised by my words or my stupidity and stared at me without saying a word. But it wasn't long before I felt a fist in my stomach and immediately felt sick. I tried to catch the next hits and kicks, but there were two of them and I was alone. Even in their intoxicated state, they were still stronger than me. Kicks and punches rained down on me and I tried as best as I could to protect my head when I fell to the ground. After a few more kicks, the two let go of me, breathing heavily.
"Let that be a lesson to you, bastard! When we talk to you, you answer and don't insult us, understand?" He spat on the floor next to me, and gave me another kick in the side, which elicited a painful groan before he let his friend pull him down the alley and back to the main street.
My head was buzzing and I didn't know what hurt more, my ribs or my right arm. I could taste blood and didn't have to look into a mirror to know my lip was cracked and bloody. To my surprise, a laugh bubbled up inside me. Pain. It hurts. I could feel exactly how every muscle was aching. Giggling, I sat up and leaned against the garage door. Now I was really out of my mind. I felt a strange joy at the pain and lightly touched my arm to find out where it hurt the most. Surely I would get bruises ... how should I explain this to my parents? I sighed ... I'd worry about that when the time came, maybe I just wouldn't say anything. I sat there for a while and stared straight ahead at the graffiti-smeared wall. Where did I end up? Late in the evening on the dirty floor of an alley that smelled of urine ... beaten up by two drunk wannabes and I didn't care. I didn't care about anything. I just couldn't bring myself to find this situation unfair, degrading, or painful. Whether I was sitting here in this alley or at home in my room, what was the difference? The injuries would heal, the pain would go away, and then I would be numb alone again. Groaning, I got to my feet and shuffled down the alley towards the main street. As I passed the can, I kicked it and heard its clatter reverberate in the alley, then I to the busy main street.
Every now and then I noticed looks that were thrown at me and that made me pull the hood of my jacket even deeper into my face. I didn't limp, but every step sent a dull pain through my body. My face stayed fixed on the asphalt and I counted my steps so as not to have to pay attention to the people around me. Deep in thoughts that didn't revolve around anything, I to the crosswalk that would take me to a quieter part of town and closer to my house. It wasn't until I heard the screeching of tires that I looked up and was instantly blinded by the headlights. So that's how it would end? Just like that? Flashed through my head, but I didn't move an inch as the two bright beams of light came closer to me. Where was my life film? Why didn't I see all the beautiful moments in my life pass my mind? Why couldn't I even feel joy when my death was imminent? At least I would have liked to see my friends again, even if only in my memories. In disbelief, between all the nonsensical jumble of my thoughts, I realized that the impact should have come a long time ago and that the lights were no longer moving. The squeaking had stopped too, instead I heard impatient honking and horrified sounds from bystanders.
The door of the car in front of me was thrown open and I was preparing for a lecture ... maybe they would call my parents.
"Are you crazy, Kookie ?!", the driver shouted as soon as he got out.
With narrowed eyes I saw his silhouette approaching me. Was he that mad? Would I get beaten up twice in one evening maybe? I opened my mouth to apologize, but my own words surprised me.
"Kookie?" I asked and with my question a switch in my brain flipped and I opened my eyes in surprise. There were only a few people who called me that.
“Are you tired of living? We were looking for you, but that doesn't mean that you have to run right in front of our car! Do you know how dangerous that is?" I was further informed, but I ignored the driver's words and tried hard to see his face.
He took a step closer to me and blocked the light from the headlights so that I could finally see him.
"Jin …"
My voice was a sigh, a relieved one. I hung my head and slumped forward against his chest. Worried, he caught me and kept me on my feet.
"Are you all right? Did I get you? You are injured!"
His words sounded like music to my ears and I could only shake my head over and over again, a goofy grin on my lips.
"Jin! Kim Seokjin!"
"I'm really happy that you still know my name, Kookie, but would you mind moving our conversation to the car? We're holding up the traffic," said the person addressed.
In fact, the impatient honking of the waiting cars behind Jin's car had become louder and, if possible, even more impatient. Without waiting for my answer, Jin maneuvered me over to his car and pushed me into the back seat before getting to the driver's side, giving the bystanders a short smile and making a vulgar gesture in the direction of the waiting drivers behind him. I blinked when I suddenly found myself inside the car that had seen like my death sentence a few seconds ago.
"Are you all right, Kookie?" Asked a low voice next to me and I winced and spun around.
Startled by my abrupt movement, Taehyung paused and his hand was outstretched in the air between us.
"Tae ... hyung?" I looked at the older boy in confusion.
"That looked pretty dangerous, are you sure you are okay?" Jin asked, glancing at me through the rearview mirror while he started the engine.
"I'm ... I'm fine ... yeah," I mutter, still confused about the surprising reunion with my friends. Was I dreaming?
"Your lip, you're bleeding."
Taehyung worriedly put his hand on my cheek and eyed me. I inhaled sharply at his touch. It wasn't a dream.
"What are you doing here, why are you- Namjoon ?!" I called out in the middle of my sentence when I recognized the boy in the passenger seat. He grinned at me and nodded.
"Haven't seen you in a while, Kookie."
"Are you going to say hello to me too, or am I invisible now?" Asked a quiet voice and I leaned forward in my seat to look past Taehyung. My jaw dropped when I saw a weakly smiling Hoseok sitting by the window waving to me. I swallowed because he wasn't the Hoseok from my memories at all.
His face was thin and the skin stretched across his cheekbones. His eyes were sunken and the hand that waved to me was so thin that I was afraid it would break off when it moved. I carefully let my gaze wander over him and then to Taehyung. My lip began to shake and a tell-tale tingling sensation in my nose heralded the rising tears.
"Hyung ... what are you all doing here? Why ..." I stopped, because my thoughts were racing, the whole situation seemed so surreal.
"We were on our way to see you," Namjoon explained and my eyes widened in surprise.
"On the way to ... me? You? Why?" I asked, looking at each of them briefly.
"Wow ... it seems like you don't believe a word we say," muttered Hoseok. "I was just as surprised when the three suddenly stood in front of my door and said they needed my help. Who expects something like this after four years of silence …"
Even his voice was soft and thin and not at all the loud and cheerful voice that I knew. I was worried.
"You need help?" I turned to Namjoon.
There was a sudden tension in the air and out of the corner of my eye I noticed how Taehyung moved a bit away from me while Hoseok averted his gaze with a joyless smile and stared out the window.
"Here's the deal, Kookie," Jin began in a serious voice. "We need your help, it is important ... and illegal. If we get caught, then we all are going to be in pretty deep . We will explain what exactly it is, if you agree to help us. If you want nothing to do with the matter then that's perfectly fine, I'll drive you home and the best thing you can do is to forget that you saw us tonight. The decision is yours - hey! Are you even listening to me?"
A quick look in the rearview mirror had shown Jin that I was busy searching my seat.
"Yes!" I protested. "I'm just looking for the seat belt. Neither of you can get me out of this car!"
There was silence for a while and I felt their eyes rest on me. Then I finally found what I was looking for and only when the reassuring click of the safety belt clicking into place was heard did I look up at them with a big grin.
"So what exactly are we doing tonight?" I asked the group.
The four looked at me in disbelief until Hoseok broke into a hoarse laugh.
"I told you guys it wasn't a good idea to take him with us," he said.
"Hey!" I called immediately. His words hurt me. Was he trying to shut me out after all these years? A thin hand was put on my head and ruffled my hair.
"Don't be angry with me, Kookie, but you are a minor and far too young to be fully aware of the consequences," he explained.
I snorted and pushed his hand away. "It has nothing to do with my age!" I snapped at him. "I'm not much younger than Taehyung and you took him with you, too."
It became quiet again.
"You belong to our group and we wanted to let you decide, just like everyone else", Namjoon finally broke the oppressive silence. "But please remember this is not a game or an exciting adventure, Jungkook."
It sounded like he was rebuking me. A part of me wanted to give him a snotty answer, but a larger part was just happy to be the youngest of the group again and to be kept in check. I slumped back into the seat with a smile on my face and looked out the window for a while. I didn't care what they thought ... they were here, they found me and nothing was going to let me get out of this car without them.
"I killed ... someone."
The deep, quiet voice came from Taehyung next to me and at his words I slowly turned to him with eyes wide with shock. His gaze was fixed straight ahead and he wasn't looking at me.
"Who?" I simply asked moving a little closer to him.
"My father ..." His voice almost cracked. I just nodded and silently pulled him into my arms. His warm breath tickled my neck and when he didn't move I closed my arms even tighter around him. His father. I remembered Taehyung had problems at home before. Once I asked him about his bruise when we were alone and I noticed the wound. At the time, his happy smile was instantly gone from his pretty face after I had asked my question. We sat apart from the others and the setting sun had covered everything with a golden hue.
"Your parents love you, Kookie ... be happy with the time you spend with them." That was all he had said before he got up and went to Jimin.
I wasn't stupid, I had figured that something was wrong in Taehyung's family, but I just didn't know whether and how I could have addressed it or made it better. The only way for me was to be there for him and laugh with him ... and even that I hadn't managed to do in the end. To my surprise, a hot tear rolled down my cheek. When was the last time I cried?
"I'm sorry, Hyung," I said in a choked voice, clutching Taehyung's shirt. "I'm so incredibly sorry! I should have called you ... or ... just been there!"
He moved a bit away from me, a small warm smile on his face.
"Why are you all apologizing to me?" He asked and pushed the hair back from my forehead.
"So ... Kookie will come with us," Namjoon stated and gave me a quick look before turning to Jin. "How about the other two? Do you know Jimin's or Yoongi's phone number?"
Our eldest shook his head. "Jimin should still live in the same area ... but I have absolutely no idea how we can contact Yoongi. He's been swallowed by the earth."
"Maybe he'll just walk in front of our car."
Jin snorted. "I think we should go to Tae's house first and pick up the body, then the other two."
Namjoon just shrugged. "The idea is as good as any."
"I ... can call Yoongi ..." it suddenly came quietly from the side.
Our heads all jerked around at Hoseok, who was still staring out the window. Was I just imagining it? Namjoon and I exchanged confused looks.
"You have Yoongi's number?" Jin asked and Hoseok nodded briefly. "Why are you only saying that now?!"
"Why do you have his number, are you both still in contact?" I asked him. I couldn't keep my voice from sounding jealous.
"I have no idea ... not really ... we just always made sure that we both had our current phone numbers. I have no idea where he is and I haven't met him in ages." Hoseok seemed to be lost in thoughts and continued to look at none of us.
"I knew the two of you had to have some kind of contact with each other," Jin shouted triumphantly. "You always used to depend on each other."
"I thought there weren't any individual groups in our group," I said accusingly, but more for fun. "And I always thought I was your best friend!"
"He's not my best friend."
Hoseok said nothing more, but dug out his cell phone silently. After a moment of hesitation, he pressed the green button. We all held our breath so that the soft ringing of the phone could be heard in the silence of the car.
"Yoongi …"
The name sounded like a relieved sigh from Hoseok's mouth when the other person answered the call.
"Yoongi, we need your help."

These were my friend, that had found me.