Waking up with a jolt, he can hear the wind subtly blowing through the small hole of the window, whispering verses of soothing breeze. How he wished the wind still had a calming effect on his gradually straining physique. He might be as woke as ever, but his eyes seem to never want to greet the cold touches of worldly images.

Jimin missed the days when he looked up to the light blue sky, as light as his heart used to be, instead of constantly burning a hole through the ground with his empty gazes, wondering when it would finally drag him towards his needed peace and eternal slumber. That’s strange, he thought. My bed hasn’t always been this stiff, his hands proceeded to molest the seemingly hard mattress he was placed upon, eyes still tightly shut. He could faintly trace the bright light surrounding his closed eyelids and thought to himself even more, ahhh, so this is what dying feels like.

Just before he lost his consciousness once again, the engulfing darkness was quickly replaced with white-painted walls and a weeping boy by his side, softly beating his chest. “Stupid Jimin. Wake up. Wake… up. You can’t leave me hangin” Kim Taehyung? The said boy continuously wept and wept and wept, soaking Jimin’s shirt for at least another 30 minutes before he finally withdrew into a sleep with his head on the former’s right thigh. Jimin, who had been awake for awhile but too fearful of facing the reality, slowly unsealed his eyes and waited for reality to come crashing in. So I’m not dead?

He stared blankly ahead at the white walls for a solid 5 minutes, not noticing that his best friend was now awake due to his subtle movements from before. “, Jimin, you’re awake. Are you okay? You hurt? Do you feel anything? Why-” The boy abruptly stopped. He sat back down on the old meekly-designed hospital chair, blank orbs staring at his best friend of 15 years whose eyes were glossy, threatening to spill all the water he has left in him, together with the pain and emotions he’s held for so long. The best friend who promised to stick with him together through thick and thin. The best friend who fought all his wars for him, protected him from getting bullied throughout their school days. The best friend who without even an ounce of hesitance, gave him his luxurious home-packed lunch box because he was too poor to have anything to eat. The same best friend who tried to commit suicide 2 days ago by excessively cutting and leaving himself to bleed to death.

“What the , Park Jimin.. H-How.. Could you do this to m-me?” The usually jubilant Taehyung stuttered through his words, forcing back inevitable sobs. Gentle tears drip down Jimin’s cheeks profusely as he recalls his recent behavior, gaze following his best friend’s retreating figure who is obviously frustrated and upset with his choices. “I’m sorry Tae.. I really am” He mutters slowly, knowing the only person who understands him couldn’t possibly hear his soft cries as he’d already trudged out of the sad hospital room in utter disappointment.

Outside of the room, in the quite hallway, stood a confused Min Yoongi, who was trying to figure his way back to the 6th floor without crashing into people over and over again. He, who was struggling and stopped to catch a breath by a lonely room at the corner of the 5th floor, heard everything that went down between the two foreign men. Being the curious person that he is, Yoongi decided to take a peak, before one of them almost crashed into him while exiting the room. “Oh sorry, I didn-”

“S’okay. Forget it” "Rude b-", Yoongi began before stopping to see that the stranger’s face was all red and bloated. He’s obviously been crying too much, Yoongi thought. “Are you okay?” “I’m fine.” The boy sharply replied, before he made his way out, swiftly vanishing into the elevator.

“Uh-huh”