Clicking his tongue in disapproval, Jin examined the brunette’s legs, “You two nearly gave us a heart attack.”

    She cringed, wincing slightly against his touch as he applied the bandages around her raw calves, “We still got the medicine though…”

    With one last tug on the cloth wound about her legs, he straightened up, pursing his lips, “One hundred lashes? You should have been more careful about who caught you.”

    Jimin rolled his eyes, fiddling with his own bandages, “It’s not our fault Sampson is a b-”

    “Language,” Jin rose to his feet and exhaled in mixed frustration, “Just be careful next time, okay?”

    “If there is a next time,” Namjoon nodded.

    Jungkook looked back at the four, pausing the applying of embalm on Yoongi’s wounds as he listened briefly to their conversations. Shaking his head, he turned back to the turquoise haired boy’s crumpled body against the ragged cement of the weather bitten roof. The medicine was cool against his fingertips, and it spread easily into a clear substance against the bruised scabs masking his roommate’s body. Finishing off the last bit of embalm, Jungkook roughly wiped his hands upon his nightshirt and rose to his feet. “I’m done,” he spoke quietly.

    Nodding, Yoongi remained in his same position without lifting a finger. He paused before turning his head slightly, “Thanks.”

    A smile crossed his lips as he shrugged it off, “No problem.”

    Turning back to his situation of rest, Yoongi’s breaths became slow and collected as he slipped back into sleep. Again.

    “Is he going to be okay?” Tae bit his lip anxiously.

    Jungkook gave a curt nod, turning towards the gangly boy, “The wounds should be gone by the morning.”

    “Really?” Hoseok’s eyebrows shot upwards in surprise, “It works that quickly?”

    “Yeah,” examining the empty container once holding the embalm, he looked up again, “At least that’s what it says.”

    “Let’s hope that was enough then,” Rose’s voice sounded behind him, “That was the last one, and I barely found it.”

    “How is Frida?” Tae stared at her in mixed worry and concern.

    A smile crossed her lips as she clasped her hands before her, “Eunnie was able to get her to eat this morning. I’ll take more food down with me tonight, though,” glancing at Yoongi’s resting figure, she sighed, “She’s not going to improve much more until he’s fully recovered… Even then, I’m not too sure…”

    Jungkook frowned, “What do you mean?”

    She shook her head, “I’m afraid that she’ll snap when she sees Taikaswami.”

    Wiping his bloodstained hands with a damp cloth, Jin joined the circle along with Namjoon close at his heels, “She’s harboring a lot of anger at this point,” dropping his gaze, he tossed the once white cloth aside, “I don’t think it’s wise to let her out quite yet.”

    “It’s been hell covering for her though,” JHope yawned, “Questions, questions, questions. That’s all I ever get these days.”

    “At least they’re allowing her to be ‘sick,’” Namjoon sighed, “You know, I think luck might be on our side at this point. If we had been in one of the bigger camps, she would have been tortured for skipping class- even if she was sick.”

    Rose’s eyes widened, “Are you serious?”

    Shrugging, he stared up at the night sky, harboring an expression of bitter pain, “That was the rule,” he grit his teeth, “And over there, the rules were the law.”

    “Tch…” Tae scoffed, “If people actually knew what was happening-”

    “But they don’t,” Jin shook his head, “Why do you think we have those ‘performances’ once a month when the aristocrats visit?”

    “‘Performances?’” Rose stared at him in utter confusion.

    Namjoon nodded, “To cover up what actually goes on inside the camps, the officials pick several residents to entertain the aristocrats to make life here seem… great.”

    Pursing his lips, Jungkook raised an eyebrow, “Is that why they have us take performance arts classes?”

    “The one and only reason,” Jin sighed, “The next visit is in a couple weeks.”

    “You mean an aristocrat is going to be here,” Jungkook froze, hope mixed with dread seeping to the ends of his toes, “In less than a month?”

    “Yeah-”

    Jimin’s expression hardened, “Be careful. You can’t let them reveal your identity.”

    “What- oh,” Jungkook’s mouth parted in realisation. ‘Of course,’ he shook his head, setting aside any hope he harbored before, ‘How could I have been so stupid…’ Swallowing hard, he met the boy’s gaze, “Is that how… um… everyone found out-”

    “That I’m an aristocrat?” Jimin laughed bitterly, “Yeah. One of my dad’s close friends did the inspection- my cover was blown almost instantly,” sighing, he stuffed his fists in the pockets of his blazer, “Just watch out. Don’t show them your face, or else it’s over. Believe me, once that happens, life here becomes hell.”

    Rose’s hand rested on his shoulder, and her voice spoke barely over a whisper, “We’ve got your back. Don’t worry.”

    Yet… something felt off. If the aristocrat party had found one of their members stuck in such a hole, wouldn’t they have gone head over heels to save that person? Why was it that Jimin remained in such an awful position, while the rest of his family sat quietly in the comfort of their own mansion? Clearing his throat, Jungkook asked quietly, “Why are you still here?”

    “What?” Jimin looked up, surprised.

    “I mean… How are you still here after you were found?” his eyes narrowed, “Wouldn’t your family have pulled you out-”

    “I chose to stay,” Jimin replied bitterly.

    His mouth dropped in confusion, “Why-?”

    Turning away, Jimin started towards the silver grated vent, “I’d be alone again.” With that, he disappeared once more.

    Namjoon stared at his feet awkwardly, chewing his bottom lip as he spoke cautiously, “Jimin… his dad came here to take him back, but he refused,” laughing sadly, Namjoon shook his head and cocked his head up to stare at the stars dotting the night sky, “He said that he wouldn’t leave without us. His dad was furious, and we haven’t heard anything else from him since.”

    Silence held their breaths as the pitch black of the atmosphere above slowly faded into a soft blue speckled with rays of gold sunlight. Shadows crept back to their beds in retreat, and the long, thin fingers of daybreak swept the camp grounds in the swift morning breeze. Dew sprung across the fields beyond the wall, clinging to each and every blade of grass and flower petal it fell open. Dawn pressed the lingering grey of clouds aside and the sky shone with the gentle colors of yellow and blue.

    “We should head back,” Jin spoke quietly, tearing his gaze from the pure awe of watching the sunrise.

    Nodding, JHope, Tae, Namjoon, Jin, and Rose turned to slip down into the metal tunnels below. The fresh air and warmth of sun signaled the oncoming morning, and not one of them had the freedom to be even a second late when the guards came knocking upon their doors.

    “Rose!” Yoongi caught her arm suddenly, voice sluggish from fatigue.

    She paused, turning to meet his gaze nonchalantly, “Yeah?”

    Pressing a small container in her hands, he straightened up, “Give this to her. Make sure she gets well.”

    She nodded, smiling lightly at the boy with turquoise hair, “Of course.”

    Jungkook nudged the two of them forward, “We need to hurry.”

    “Alright, alright,” Yoongi yawned, stretching his arms out a bit, “Calm down, kid.”

    The three slipped through the grate and into the hidden tunnels back to their rooms. Though dawn had just arrived, there was never a soul awake to watch the sun wake from its slumber. There was not one person to watch the stars slowly fade back into the deep blue of the atmosphere, and there was not one eye that remained conscious to send the moon on its way. Dawn was perhaps the loneliest time of day, yet to most it had no significance. As long as the sun continued to rise and set, all was well. Jungkook cast one last look at the glowing bulb hoisted into the morning atmosphere once more, and he couldn’t help but feel remorse. Just as the sun was trapped in the cage of the sky, he could not leave the reality he had been into.

***

    Days slipped by, and much to the relief of everyone, the wounds masking Yoongi’s body had finally faded back into nothing more than scars. It was almost as if he had never endured such torture, and Frida had returned back to her normal, snarky self. The medicine Rose had found was no less than a miracle. The simple fact that a small bit of substance had the power to flip back time had to be magic- how else would such a feat be possible? Yet here they all were, moving past the situation and on to new ones. Just as usual.

    “Kookie-” a voice pouted in his ear as he turned to stare at the girl with an expression of pure annoyance masked by nonchalance.

    “What?” he sighed. Just as usual.

    The girl tugged on his arm, “Spend free time with me today, okay?”

    “And me!” another girl chimed in, causing the first girl to shoot her friend a look of disgust.

    “Aish…” Tae rolled his eyes, resting his head upon the palms of his hands.

    “Tae!” a small girl tugged his sleeve, “Tae look at me!”

    He raised an eyebrow, shooting her a glare from the corner of his eye, “Go away.”

    “EEK!” the girl squealed, jumping up and down with her friends, “HE LOOKED AT ME! DID YOU SEE THAT? TAE LOOKED-”

    Jungkook leaned closer to whisper in his gangly friend’s ear, “Method six?”

    Smirking, Tae sat up suddenly, “Of course.”

    “You in?” Jungkook nudged Jimin slightly, as a smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

    The orange haired boy swept a lock of orange hair off his forehead, smiling coily, “Of course.”

    “-Jiminie!” several hands played with the collar of his shirt, “Look at me, Jiminie!”

    “Kookie!”

    “Tae-”

    “Sorry,” Jimin shook their hands off, much to their surprise, “I don’t look at ugly girls.”

    Jimin turned to stare at the two girls tugging the sleeve of his blazer, “I only spend free time with pretty girls,” turning away, he smirked, “You’re not up to my standards.”

    Tae scoffed, “Go find someone your own level.”

    The girls stood in shock, gaping at the three of them as their mouths hung open like cod fish.

    “Now that’s just mean,” a familiar, quiet voice shattered the awkward silence.

    Both Jimin and Jungkook grinned at each other as Rose pushed through the crowd. “It’s the truth-” Jimin began, holding back a laugh.

    “Shush,” she rolled her eyes, turning to the girls, “Don’t take their words seriously. You all are very pretty-”

    “I thought you said you don’t look at ugly girls!” one girl near the front burst out, glaring at the brunette.

    Jimni raised an eyebrow, “I don’t.”

    “Rose isn’t ugly,” Jungkook added.

    Rolling her eyes again, Rose turned to the girl, “I’m glad to know what you think of me.”

    “Tch…” the girl spun on her heel and stormed back to her table.

    “U-um…” the rest of the girls dispersed almost instantly, muttering under their breaths in utter disappointment.

    Just as Rose turned to slip into her spot between Jungkook and Jimin, a slight tug on her sleeve caught her by surprise, “Yes?” she met the gaze of the small girl from before.

    “U-um…” the girl dropped her eyes almost instantly as her short black hair framing her face veiled her look of embarrassment, “Am I… am I really not ugly?”

    Rose smiled lightly, holding the girl’s shoulders, “Of course not,” shooting a glare back at the three boys, she added in a hushed tone, “They’re boys. Let them be stupid.”

    “Really?” the girl looked up, excitement winking behind the pupils of her eyes.

    “You know,” Rose laughed, “If you gave them space, they may actually see how cute you are, rather than one of the other girls annoying them.”

    The girl nodded hastily, “Okay!” bouncing up and down, she turned to hurry back to her table, “Thank you, Rose!” with that, the small girl hopped back to her friends as grin plastered itself across her lips.

    Sighing, Rose dropped into the seat between Jimin and Jungkook, “You need to be more careful. Your words can actually hurt-”

    Jimin shrugged, “They’re gone though.”

    “Just calling someone ugly won’t get them to stop liking you,” pursing her lips, she poked his cheek in annoyance, “If anything, they’ll try panning for your affection even more. Call them fat? They’ll stop eating. Call them ugly? They’ll go to whatever extent to seem prettier. Call them stupid? They’ll lose sleep just to study more. Words have effect, Jimin. You can’t just throw them around.”

    Jimin’s gaze hardened, chilling the spines of every individual around him, “What about me?”

    Crossing her arms, she returned the same intensity of the stare, “What about you?”

    He scoffed, “Of course you wouldn’t understand…”

    “How am I supposed to understand when you don't explain?” she retorted, heatedly.

    “I stopped explaining myself a long time ago, Rose,” he spat, “People only understand from their level of perception.”

    “And I’m not at your level?”

    “No, you’re not!” he shot to his feet, “You don’t know what it’s like bearing the expectations of every single person of this room. You don’t know what it’s like having everyone breathe down your neck, and you don’t know what it’s like to try and live with that! You just don’t understand, Rose. You never will.”

    She rose to her feet, angrily, “I don’t understand? I don’t understand?” glaring daggers into his dark eyes, she came nose to nose with her once friend, “I may not live with the burden of everyone’s constant love and affection, but God, Jimin. I live with their hate. Do you think it’s been easy here just because I don’t have every girl swooning over me? Yeah, maybe I’m lonely. Maybe I have no one. You know what, though? I’d rather be alone than surrounded by a whole bunch of fake people!”

    “I thought you were different, Rose,” Jimin stared icily at her, “But you’re just the same as anyone else.”

    Before he could turn to leave, she shot through gritted teeth, “Different than who? The girls?” she scoffed, “Unlike them, I don’t like you. Not one. Single. Bit.”

    He spun around, yet his mouth remained closed as his jaw worked his mouth bitterly. It was long past the time he ran out of words to say, and the shadow of disappointment and regret flickered behind his eyes.

    “Do you think,” she spoke slowly as if poison stung and seeped through her lips, “It’s been easy being friends with you? With all the hate I’ve been receiving just because of that fact, do you think it’s been easy?”

    His face paled several shades, but he masked his guilt in yet another, fierce glare, “Then don’t.”

    Her anger slipped off her face in an instant, “W-what?”

    Spinning on his heel, he stormed towards the door leading out of the cafeteria, “Don’t be my friend. I never asked you to,” with a slam of the door, he disappeared down the hallway once more.

    Jungkook stared at Rose, dumbfounded. His throat had become parched and that of a sandpaper texture, all the while swallowing with great difficulty. “Rose?” he started hesitantly.

“D-don’t…” she muttered before hurrying out of the cafeteria and down the corridor in the opposite direction.

The cafeteria was dead silent. There was no whisper, nor the slightest turn of heads as the frozen atmosphere hanging about air bit the tongues of every resident. All eyes followed the brunette out the door, and once her figure was long out of sight, the gazes that had once lasted upon his two friends snapped in his direction. Just as everyone else, he found no words to utter under his breath and no sentences to string along his neck. All there was to be heard was silence.

The clearing of a throat beside him caught his ears, and he turned slightly to meet the familiar eyes of his absent friends. “Jungkook,” Frida’s hushed voice rang throughout the entire cafeteria, still ragged and worn from past experiences yet holding onto the element of gentleness and concern in a delicate grasp, “What happened?”

His mouth parted slightly, but no words slipped off his frozen tongue. All he could do was stand mutely, staring at her. At Yoongi. At Namjoon. At Eunnie. At Jin. At Hoseok. At Tae. He couldn’t say anything.

Spinning on his heel, he strode of the cafeteria, and though the calls of his name rang throughout the open space behind him, he let the door swing shut. How could two people, so alike in their struggles and differences, unravel as nothing more than a strand of broke thread? If relationships were to end this way, did he really want to have any to begin with? It’s funny how alike they are compared to glass. Once broken, they can still be put together, but there will still be cracks. There will always be cracks.