Her hands shook as she lifted her instrument to her shoulder. Though it was barely twenty four hours since she had struck her last note, she couldn’t help but feel somewhat deprived of her one, true passion. Out of all the art and talents in the entire world, she couldn’t help but feel- believe that music was meant for her. If she was ever nervous, she would practice. If she was every scared, she would practice. If she was ever angry, sad, overjoyed, confused, or just plain bored, she would practice. Of course she did other activities such as talk with people from time to time, or make up stories of such impossibilities it was almost hard to imagine, or plow through every book in the library, but she loved making music the very most. Unlike anything else, she could finally think, finally breathe without the constant vultures of society beating down her neck.

    A smile wormed its way across as she set her bow to the string and began her scales. To most musicians, scales were to be dreaded, hated, despised out of anything- except for double stop scales of course. Rose found them quite calming however, and though as tedious as such matters may seem, she enjoyed them to a certain extent. Closing her eyes, she focused on the sound she drew out and cringed at any slight blemish in the tone. ‘I wonder how Eunnie and Frida are doing,’ thoughts whirled about her head, ‘It’s funny… they know me so well, and yet we’ve only known each other for barely twenty four hours… Oh how I missed this.’ A sharp twang hit her heart as she brushed aside old memories of her past home. Hours of lessons and instruction rang through her ears as she opened her eyes. For a moment, she swore she could almost see the figure of a man smiling at her, edging her to play on. ‘Jason-?’ she shook her head and the vision of him disappeared, ‘Look at me… going insane on the first day…’ A sigh escaped her lips as she moved on, ‘I must be hungry…’ her stomach growled in agreement, ‘Okay… so maybe very hungry, but-’ her train of thought shattered when the door flew open.

    Whirling around and slipping her violin off her shoulder, she stared at the boy crouching behind the door, cautiously peeking down the hallway. “What are you-?” she began until he pressed a finger to his lips anxiously. parted in confusion, until realisation dawned upon her just as a group of girls thundered inside the once quiet practice room.

    “Where is he?” one girl sighed in frustration.

    “Jiminie!” a second girl called anxiously, wildly gazing about the room.

    A third girl grumbled, crossing her arms, “Wait until we get our hands on him…”

    “I’m never letting go,” a fourth girl sighed dreamily.

    “Hey,” the fifth, final girl stared at Rose as if just noticing she was there, “Have you seen a super hot guy with orange hair pass by here?”

    Rose’s eyes flitted over to the boy- presumably "Jiminie"- crouch in the corner behind the door. His eyes widened in horror as he shook his head hastily. Swallowing, she shook her head. Holding back a smile, she spoke clearly in English, “I’m sorry. I don’t speak Korean.”

    “Tch,” one of the girls mumbled, “Foreigners.” With that, the group of girls exited the practice room in no less than a thunderstorm.

    The boy let out a breath of relief as the door swung shut and the footstep pounding against the tiled floor of the corridor slowly faded. “Thank God…”

    She smiled weakly, switching back to Korean, “Are you okay?”

    He nodded slowly, “So you actually speak Korean, huh?”

    Laughing nervously, she stared at her feet, “Not well. I only learned it a couple weeks ago.”

    His mouth parted in surprise, looking up to face her, “But you speak so well- oh!” his eyes widened, dumfounded, “It’s Rose, right?”

    Tilted her head to the side, suddenly recognizing the familiarity of the boy’s orange dyed hair, “Jimin, correct?” before he could say anything in response she shook her head hastily, laughing anxiously, “Sorry! I’m horrible with names! If everyone had a number, I would remember them for life-”

    “You were right,” the boy, Jimin smiled lightly at her, “I’m glad to know it’s not just me then. I’m bad with names too.”

    She swallowed, staring at her feet, “Um… so what brings you here?”

    Shrugging, he crossed over to the CD Player sitting before the gigantic mirrors at the back of the room, “I was going to practice my dance routine,” he paused, “I can wait though, if you’re still practicing.”

    She bit her lip hesitantly, “U-um… I can move if you want me to-”

    “No!” he shook his head hastily, “That’s not what I meant!”

    “We… could take turns?”

    “What?”

    “Well…” frowning slightly, she gripped her violin, “We could both warm up right now, and then trade off between your dance routine and my songs. You could dance first, then I’ll play a song?”

    He tilted his head curiously, “I feel like you’ve done this before- sharing a practice room I mean.”

    Laughing softly, she shook her head, “Not a practice room, but a stage. One of my good friends was a dancer-” she broke off, swallowing hard.

    He cleared his throat awkwardly, “Um… I’m sorry.”

    “It’s alright,” she lifted her instrument to her shoulder, “She’s probably still dancing on that stage.”

    Pursing his lips, the two artists began to warm up in silence. Well, not in complete silence, for the ringing of her notes echoing off her strings filled the room with warmth and color. Her heart held a ton of bricks, weighing down into her stomach and pressing against the needles in her chest. She had left so much behind… too much. Setting her jaw, she pressed her pain and worries aside, focusing on each tone she created, each note she struck with her fingers. She worked in silence, and within the silence came sound.

    Jimin paused his stretches, “Are you sure you’re alright?”

    Freezing, she opened her eyes to stare at him, “What do you mean?”

    “You’re crying,” he rose to his feet, reaching out to brush the tracks of tears off her cheeks with his thumb.

     parted slightly, “I’m fine,” forcing a smile, she slipped away from his grasp, “I’m done warming up. You can practice now if you want.”

    His eyes narrowed but didn’t press her further. Switching the CD player on, he flipped one of the dials three times before crossing over to the middle of the room. Closing his eyes, he began to move as the music began to fill the room.

    Sliding down the wall, back to the mirror, Rose watched him in awe. His movements were swift and harsh, yet they held the element of grace and gentleness. Her chest tightened as he reached into the air as if trying to grasp an element that was not there. In a way, everyone in the camp attempted to reach that element. It was almost as if they were blind while trying to find a dying candle in a vast field. She watched as his ragged breaths matched the tears trailing down his sweaty cheeks and his movements slowly reached a stop along with the music.

    Breathing deeply, his eyelids fluttered open and he looked up at her face, “How was it?”

    She rose to her feet on shaky knees, “I’ve never seen anything like that.”

    Smiling weakly, he switched the music off. “I made five mistakes.”

    “And that’s a bad thing?”

    “I made four last time.”

    “Having some mistakes is good though.”

    He laughed sadly, “You’d be the first one to say that.”

    “They bring the element of reality to your performance.”

    He paused, “That’s true, I guess.”

    “Besides, who would want to be perfect,” she cross the room towards him, wiping his tears off his cheeks with the pad of her thumb, “You couldn’t be anything else.”

    He froze at her touch, staring at her curiously. His mouth opened in response, yet he shut it once the realisation of silence hung over his head.

    She dropped her hand from his cheek and stood back, “Are you okay?”

    Forcing a smile, he turned away, “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

    “Don’t lie,” she spoke quietly, “No one’s okay here. I can see it.”

    He scoffed slightly, “What would you know?”

    Pursing her lips, she pulled him around to face her, “Enough,” swallowing, she continued on, “Why else would your friends as well as mine tell me to stay away from you? Why else would you be hiding in here from a group of girls that would probably kill me if they saw me talking to you? Why else would you wear a smile in everything you do, but end up breaking down while doing the one thing you love? I notice things, Jimin. I’m not blind.”

    He stared at her curiously, “You’ve only been here for a day, and somehow know me better than I know myself.”

    A tiny smile played across her lips, “You remind me of myself in a way.”

    “How so?”

    She stood back and lifted her instrument to her shoulder, “You think you’re alone when you’re not.”

***

    The sharp clanging of the bell broke the warmth of the atmosphere inside the practice room. “…” Jimin cursed under his breath, “We have to hurry or else we’ll be late.”

    Rose frowned slightly, “For what?”

    Scoffing, he switched the CD Player off as she set her instrument back inside its case. “The damn ‘Free Time.’”

    Snapping the case closed and swinging it over her shoulder, she raised an eyebrow, “‘Free Time?’”

    Sighing, he grabbed her hand and dragged her out of the room, “It’s where they lock all the residents in a room from an hour to see who’s compatible with who. Not that it matters anyway…”

    She chewed on her cheek, hurrying down the corridor with him, “I thought we could choose who-”

    “Since there’s less guys, the guys choose the girls. Willing or not,” gritting his teeth, he rounded the corner, “But if a guy doesn’t choose a girl, the officials pick one for him based on the ‘Free Time’ observations.”

    “What about you? I’m guessing Eun Sung and Frida stick with the same person, but do you-?”

    “No,” he answered flatly, “It’s someone different every time.”

     parted in surprise, then closed suddenly as the images of the group of girls flitted past her mind, “Is it because of-”

    “I don’t want to make them angry…” he answered quietly, “They won’t leave me alone, and I don’t want to pick favorites or else they’ll hurt…” shaking his head, he forced a smile, “Nevermind. I must seem pretty despicable to you to you right now.”

    She shook her head, “No, you don’t actually,” smiling playfully, she added, “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.”

    Laughing, he stole a glance at her, “And how might you do that?”

    She patted her violin case, “I have a pretty rad instrument and a whole English dictionary in my brain.”

    “You’ll be the first.”

    “Of course! There’s only one Rose Winters in the entire world and you’re looking at her,” she laughed as the pair reached the end of the hallway and faced a large, metal door.

    Grinning, he swung the heavy metal door open for her, “I’ll hold you to that promise, because we’re about to enter hell.”

    “I thought we were already there?” winking, she slipped inside as he followed after her.

    The room resembled one of the dusty, drab warehouses back around the countryside that Rose use to venture through as a child. The walls were of a thin grey metal, and unlike the warehouses back in America, they bore no rust on their surface. Tight, rectangular windows sat near the ceiling and emitted only a few rays of the outside’s sunlight, and the windows themselves were too far up for any person to see out of. Several, electric white lights hung by wires across the ceiling, occasionally flickering along with the abrupt chatter of the residents.

    “Jiminie!” a voice called, and just as piranhas swarm to a fresh lump of meat, the dreaded group of girls gathered around her poor friend.

“Where were you?” one girl pouted.

“We were looking all over for you!” another whined, clawing at his arm.

“We missed you sooo much!” a third girl sighed exasperatedly.

Rolling her eyes, Rose stepped in front of the group, “Um… excuse me?”

Dozens of angry eyes snapped their attention immediately to her own. One girl looked her up and down, “Who are you?”

The taste in suddenly turned sour, “I’m sorry to interrupt your… um… whatever this is, but Jimin promised to uh- help me with something?” she glanced at him hopelessly.

Jimin snapped back into reality and nodded hastily, “Um… yes! She needs help… cleaning her violin?”

Rose pointed to her case resting on her back, “It’s very important you see, and definitely not a one person job.”

The girls eyed the two of them suspiciously. Another girl with a pug shaped face scoffed, “Are you sure you don’t just want him to get into your pants, because he already said he’d-”

Rose’s face burned a deep red as Jimin coughed uncomfortably. Clenching her fists to keep them from shaking in fury, her voice shook as she struggled to hold the fury bubbling at the pit of her stomach down, “The last time I checked, cleaning a violin does not include ‘getting into my pants.’”

Yet another girl narrowed her eyes and retorted, “Who do you think you are? You’ve barely been here for a day; you can’t just strut in here and steal my man-”

Staring at her innocently, she shook her head, “The only person he belongs to is himself.”

The girls surrounded her, scowling and picking at her clothes, “Think you’re special because you’re one of the few from America? Well take a rain check, because you’re nothing.”

Forcing a smile, Rose stared them straight on and slowly began to feel smaller than she had ever been,  “I’m sorry.”

A girl tugged at a lock of her hair, “Look how straight it is. It looks so fake. She probably dyed it a lot-”

“She probably took chemicals to change the color of her eyes. They look creepy,” another girl sneered.

Tugging back the sleeve of her blazer, a girl examined her skin, “She’s so pale! I bet she’s a vampire-”

“Why don’t you go mope around about your own appearances before you pick on someone else’s,” a voice drawled behind them.

A breath of relief escaped her lips as Frida reached her shoulder, glaring daggers at the group of girls. “Thank you…” she whispered so quietly that only a mouse could pick up such sounds.

“That’s just mean,” another girl appeared at her side, brushing a lock of curled, blonde hair behind her shoulder, “I mean, aren’t you always complaining about how you wished your skin was paler? Hair was straighter? Eyes were more ‘exotic’ than brown?” Eunnie scoffed, “Maybe it’s you who should take a rain check.”

Jimin shot a look of disgust at the girls, causing them to cringe in shame, “I pick my friends, not you.” With that, he pulled Rose away from the clutches of the piranhas and towards the group of six boys huddles in the far corner.

Swallowing hard, she clutched her elbows and plastered a smile across her lips, “Thank you.”

He looked down at his feet as they reached the boys, “I shouldn’t have dragged you into that,” setting his jaw, he refused to meet her gaze, “It’s my fault. I’m sorry.”

“Jimin-”

“Don’t act like you know me,” his face became void of any expression, “It’s for the best.”

parted in retort until a pair of arms wrapped around her waist, “Eunnie…”

Eun Sung rested her head on her shoulder, “I told you not to get caught up in that…” sniffling sadly, she pulled away to brush away the few, small tears trailing down her cheeks, “Are you okay?”

“God damn es,” Frida scoffed, glancing at the group of girls sulking in across the room, “If they lay one more hand on-”

“Frida,” the turquoise haired boy from before, MinKi, prodded her cheek, “Calm down. If you go on like this, you won’t leave anything left for me.”

Rolling her eyes, she leaned against his shoulder, “I swear… I can’t believe they actually did that… those f-”

“Language,” the tall boy with soft features, Jin Eunnie’s hair sadly.   

“I’m alright, really,” Rose forced a smile, facing the group staring sympathetically at her, “I’m tougher than I look.”

A tall gangly boy frowned, “Are you sure? Those girls were pretty scary- like wasps!”

“More like piranhas,” JHope, a boy with a longish face and kind eyes winked at her.

“I would say tigers,” a boy with light brown dyed hair sighed, “But tigers are cool.”

The quiet boy beside the tall, gangly boy narrowed his eyes, staring at the sleeve of her blazer, “Did they hurt you? You’re bleeding.”

She glanced down at her arm and tugged back the fabric to reveal a deep scratch speckled with her blood, “Oh,” was all she said.

The boy averted his gaze from hers, “You should get that checked out. It could become infected…”

Pushing her sleeve back down, she shook her head, “I’ve had worse! I’m fine, really!” changing the subject abruptly, she stared at the lot of them, “I don’t think I know all of your names-”

“Namjoon,” the boy with light brown hair flashed her a crooked, dimpled smile.

“But everyone calls him Rap Monster,” JHope smirked, “At least that’s what the girls say-”

“Shut up,” Yoongi yawned, wrapping an arm about Frida’s shoulder.

"Kim Taehyung, but you can call me Tae,” the tall gangly boy winked.

The quiet boy stared at his feet, “Jungkook,” he answered quietly.

“You know everyone else, right?” Eunnie nudged her shoulder and pointed at the last three boys, “That’s Yoongi, Jin, and Hoseok-”

“JHope,” Hoseok- or rather JHope- rolled his eyes, “Call me JHope.”

Rose nodded, laughing lightly, “I know. I remember.”

Glancing at Jimin nervously, Eunnie added, “And it seems you still remember Jimin-”

Jimin shot the blonde a glare before staring off at nothing in particular once more.

Rose’s heart sunk to the pit of her stomach at his reaction, but she forced the corners of her lips upwards a bit, “I’m Rose, Rose Winters.”

“So you’re from America?” Tae leaned forward excitedly, “What’s it like? Are there hamburgers and Starbucks shops on every corner? What about clothing stores? I heard some were so big you could walk miles without seeing the sun! What are the beaches like? I thought you would be tan like in the old magazines, but it’s totally fine that you’re not! Gosh! You’re paler than MinKi, and MinKi is so pale he could blend in with snow-”

“Tae,” Yoongi stared at him pointedly, “Shut up.”

“Um…” Rose studied her shoes in embarrassment, “I actually lived on the west coast of Washington. It rained nearly every day, so I’ve never got much exposure to sun so…” shaking her head, she laughed quietly, “Most of the buildings there are abandoned, because there’s not enough people to run them.”

Jungkook smiled lightly at her, “Where did you live? If there were so many empty buildings, you must have had a nice house-”

She shook her head, “I lived in the theatre- not the movie theatre, the kind that hosts concerts and dance recitals. I used to live in a house near the country, but then my…” biting her lip, she looked up at him, “I’m sorry; I’m rambling.”

“I’ve always wanted to visit the States,” Namjoon sighed, “I’ve been studying English since I was eight, but I’ve never had a chance to practice it.”

Her eyes widened, “Really? You could practice on me!”

“Not here, though,” Frida nodded towards the rest of the camp’s residents gathered inside the room, “We’re constantly being watched, remember?”

Sighing in defeat, Namjoon leaned against the metal wall, “Tonight then.”

A frown crossed her brows, “What’s tonight?”

“You’ll see,” Eun Sung winked.

At that precise moment, the wretched clanging of the bell signalled the start of their torture. Officials appeared behind the doors and swung them shut while the clicking of the locks snapped back into place. There was no way in and no way out. It was then that Rose suddenly felt as if all the air was being out of her lungs and the walls appeared to be even closer than before.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook eyed her worriedly.

Giving a curt nod, she forced another smile. It seemed as if none of her smiles were genuine anymore, yet nothing in a Breeding Camp ever was. “I’m fine,” she managed to whisper, and oh how the lie seemed to cling to her tongue.

***

    The lights had gone out an hour ago, and darkness had washed the camp in deep sleep long before that. Yet, the rustling of bedsheets and fumbling in the night kept Rose from slipping out of consciousness. Slipping her flats on, she gazed up at her two roommates curiously, hugging her elbows as she shivered due to the cold.

    “Quickly!” Frida hissed under her breath.

    “I know! I’m trying!” Eunnie muttered under her breath, slowly twisting the screws out of the air vent on the ceiling with a bobby pin that she had once worn in her hair, “Almost there… Got it!” she pushed against the grate and slid it out of the way.

“We’re running late,” Frida hoisted her friend up into the vent, “So don’t make any detours like last time, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eunnie crawled inside the tunnel, “Rose, you coming?”

Blinking, Rose nodded hastily, “Y-yeah.”

“I’ll be right behind you,” Frida whispered as she lifted her up into the air vent as well.

Swallowing, she grabbed onto Eunnie’s outstretched hand and slid into the secret tunnel in the ceiling. Coughing slightly on the dust floating in the air, she shuffled forward on her hands and knees after a certain blonde. “Where are we going?” she called quietly.

Frida’s voice sounded behind her, “You’ll see.”