Jimin was in his room when he saw it. He was absentmindedly scrolling through the band's shared twitter feed, reading through all the adoring comments when he saw a string of the same picture being tagged to them. It was a picture of their most recent concert in Brazil; Jimin was waving happily to the crowd (looking pretty nice if he did say so himself). You could tell the photo was taken with an expensive camera, the way the focus centered around the dancer. The confetti that fell around him was blurred, leaving Jimin's figure in the forefront. 

Next to him was a picture of a beautiful woman. She had curves and was very fit, with long brown wavy hair and bronze skin. Yes she was beautiful, but not his ideal type.(This is not meant to offend anybody. This is solely for plot purposes.) A caption on the bottom was written in English-or was is Portuguese? Jimin couldn't tell the difference-which Jimin could not understand either way. 

"Neh, Joonie-hyung." The younger asked the leader as he walked into their shared hotel room. "Can you translate this for me please?"

"Eh?" Rap Monster said as he took the phone from Jimin's hands. "Why so interested?" He asked as he turned the phone right side up to translate.

"Nothing special I guess, hyung." Jimin laughed as he showed off his signature eye smile. "There were a few of these sent to our twitter account. I thought maybe they were pairing me with another idol from their country. It's cute." He stopped, noticing the rapper's unusual silence. "Is something wrong?"

The leader looked up, closing the twitter app and turning off the phone. He flashed Jimin a professional smile, revealing the small dimples that were hidden before. "Nothing, Jiminie-ah. Just a few rumors, nothing to worry about." He said, returning the phone. "We're going to leave soon, Jimin-ah. You should be resting, like everyone else. Try not to go on our twitter account anytime soon, alright? You should use this time to get some sleep. We all know you need it."

"Aw! Come on Joonie-hyung! I'm just so excited for our tour I can't sleep now! Especially when the sun's up! It's still 5, hyung! Just 10 more minu-"

"Promise." The leader said with such a tone of seriousness Jimin had never seen from Namjoon before that he quickly stopped joking.

"I...I promise, Namjoon-hyung."

"Good. Sleep well, Jiminie." Rap mon said with a morose tone of adoration as he gently ruffled the dancer's hair and closed the blinds. He left the room and closed the door, a guilty smile still plastered on his lips.

"We have a problem." Namjoon said as he reached the door to their manager's hotel room. The middle aged man looked up in surprise, then curiosity, then fear. It wasn't often that the teen genius went to people for advice; so when it happened, it always drew the man's attention. But the the unmistakable tone of sadness and seriousness that oozed from those few words alone. The older man had a feeling that this wasn't something that could easily be solved.

"Come in." The manager said tersely as he opened the door wider, allowing the taller man to walk through the door with ease. "Would you like some water? You look a bit pale."

"Water would be great, Manager-nim." Namjoon said as he accepted the cool glass and took a long, arduous gulp.

"So tell me son," the manager said as he took a seat on the chair that was paired with a desk that was located at the room's corner, gesturing for Rap Monster to have a seat against the foot of his bed. "What's the matter?" 

"It's about Jimin." The bts member said through pursed lips taking a seat at the foot of the bed.

"Jimin?" The manager echoed. Through his years of knowing the group, Jimin was nothing less than an angel. He was polite and hardworking, never causing trouble at all, besides the occasional-ok, more than occasional-pranks commited by the makane line. Nonetheless, Jimin had done nothing in the Manager's memory to receive anything but praise.

"Yes." Rap Monster said solemly, with a remosefull look in his eyes. "There are some rumors going around...they're not very nice."

The manager sighed. Rumors were nothing good, but they weren't uncommon within the kpop industry, especially with popular groups such as BTS. "Namjoon, we're already discussed this before. As much as we both know we hate rumors, there's nothing that we can do about them besides tolerate them. It would be a disaster if we had to go through every rumor that got thrown in our way, it would leave things messy. It's better to just let the whole thing blow over. If the company makes a statement without evidence, we don't know how fans will react."

"It's much more serious than that though." the idol interjected. "He's getting threats."

At those words, the manager visibly paled, placing his own glass of water on the desk behind him. "On what grounds?"

"From what I saw," Namjoon explained. "it started with dating rumors with some Brazilian girl, but then it escalated from there. Now there are more rumors that Jimin assaulted a fan and that he doesn't care about his international fans and now..." the rapper took a shakey breath. "they're sending him death threats."

"Where did you see this?" the manager said, running a hand through his thin hair. "Did Jimin see this yet?"

"On Twitter." the leader said. "He saw the post, but I don't know if he knows what it means or if he knows about the threats. He asked me to translate a caption, and I read the messages in English. I'm pretty sure he doesn't know about the threats yet. I told him to stay off of Twitter and that they were just some rumors, but I don't know for how long he'll believe me..."

"I know." the BTS manager said, letting out a long, exhausted breath. "We have to keep this from him, I think. I don't want him worrying about these things, especially with the tour already scheduled."

Namjoon nodded in understanding, shuddering at the thought. He'd already delt with his own threats during the Red Bullet tour, having a close encounter when a "credible threat" was reported at their New York location and they had to cancel a scheduled Hi-Touch event because of it. He'd made a mistake, Namjoon saw that now. It was a terrible one, but what did he know? The leader knew that his actions were inexcuable, now that he understood the imense wrong in his words, but he honesly did not know any better. You could teach a person the language, but that did not mean that they would also know the culture that came with it. After reading into what he said, Namjoon was horrified at his words. And although he now realized how offensive he was in retrospect, he didn't think that it justified a threat against his life. He could still remember the bus ride back to the hotel. He sat in the back, hands trembling, legs shaking. He was an anxious mess, trying his best to hide the extent of his fear from his fellow members in vain. Jin had stuck by him the entire ride back, rubbing his back soothingly, attempting fruitlessly to help his distressed dongsaeng. 

He'd done wrong, but Jimin had done nothing. He didn't deserve any of this, none of it at all. Namjoon didn't want Jimin to suffer the same personified fear that he'd felt as he was escorted surrounded by guards to the waiting van. He recalled it in perfect detail: the feeling of intense fear and vulerability. The sky was dark, a cold breeze blew shivers down his back as he briskly walked in step with the guards. He couldn't stop himself from looking everywhere, his tough persona melting away into fear and anxeity. Though he knew that the threat was most likely fake, and the walk was no more than 3 minutes long, Namjoon couldn't help but allow the budding blossom of terror bloom within him, the van waiting for him and s seening an eternity away. 

Jimin-their sweet, innocent Jimin-deserved none of this fear.

"I'll talk to Boss-nim." their manager said, bringing Namjoon out of his thoughts. "We'll definitely tighten security at the rest of the locations. At the very least, at all the US locations. We don't need another incident."

The BTS leader could only nod.

"What about the other members?" Rap Mon questioned. "Should we tell them?"

The manager looked deep in thought, comtemplating. "No." he said. "It won't do you boys any good. We'll say that the increase insecurity is for the fans. I don't want them to worry. Please trust me that I will do everything to prevent anything from happening. If things continue to escalate, we will tell them; but for now, we shouldn't worry them."

Another nod.

"Get some sleep, son." Manager said, sighing is resignation. "And stop thinking about that. It won't do you any good."

He really does see right through me. Rap Monster though wistfully with a smile as he bowed and walked back to his room.

As Rap Monster left the room, Jimin let out a puff of air, blowing the tips of his fluffy-looking bangs up.

What was that for? Jimin thought to himself. I know that rumors are bad, but they're nothing we haven't dealt with before. I can handle it.

He got his phone from under the pillow he put it under, unlocking it with a press of his thumb. He continued to scroll through the Twitter feed, smiling at the adorable stickers that fans had added to his picture and posted on the social media site. With the limited English that he did know, he saw their praising comments, calling him cute, handsome, y...it was endearing to him. But the picture kept comming up: the one with the pretty girl. Each time he passed the picture, his curiosity kept growing and growing untill he couldn't help it anymore.

He clicked on the tag.

At first, the pictures were all of the same girl: no help at all. Jimin was dying of curiosity, what was this rumor that had gotten-he looked up to the number of posts-12,538 retweets on a single post? He kept scrolling past the same picture untill he saw something a bit darker than the the rest: a gun.

It looked like a stock photo, or at least Jimin hoped so. The text in the picture read #RIPJimin See you in Anaheim. (Red is in English, as in the stuff Jimin cannot understand) 

It's a fluke. Jimin told himself, scrolling past. Antis do this all the time. Just keep going. 

But as he continued to scroll, the more he knew deep inside that this wasn't a joke. Jimin wanted to stop, go back, and forget that he'd ever had the stupid idea to disregard Namjoon's warning, but he couldn't. Out of a sick sence of curiosity or horror, he wasn't sure, but he kept going until he hit his limit. 

It was a coffin. A traditional flower wreath accompanied it, the large, black ribbon read his name in haunting white. A picture of himself had been edited into the picture frame that sat atop the coffin, as if forshadowing a horrible future was to become of him. 

He didn't need Namjoon to translate for him. The meaning was clear: this person wanted him dead.

Which meant one thing.

All these people wanted him dead too.

A numbness spread through him, his body shaking. Dread filled his being as he silently turned off his phone and set his hands in his lap. His fingers clutched onto each other, turning dead white. Jimin suddenly felt sick, as he had a sudden realization that his hyung had known and had told him to stop looking on Twitter to protect him. How regretful he was now, Jimin thought to himself as he felt hot tears start to trickle down his shock-ridden face. He tried suppressing the tears, but it only burned his nose and throat as his anxiety rose and his tears continued to fall. 

The creaking bed was the only indicator that Jimin had bent his head foreward, resting it his hands as his elbows balanced themselves on his knees. His palms dug into his eyes, as if trying to pry out all the things he saw in the past few minutes. 

Please. He asked to anyone who could hear his silent plea. Please.

All that replied were more tears.

Jimin heard footsteps down the hall, falling in a heavy set pattern that he knew too well to belong to his leader-hyung. 

He wanted to tell him, tell him what he'd seen, what he'd found out in the few minutes that the clumsy leader had been away, but his voice was stuck in his burning throat, and he felt too terrified to confront his caring hyung.

Out of cowardness, he feigned sleep and wiped the remainder of his tears onto his pillow as Namjoon walked into the room.

Rap Monster slid the key card into the reader and waited for the blinking lights to turn green. He entered the room as quietly as he could, catching a glimpse at his little brother. 

A kind of stuffiness hung in the air that wasn't there before, and Namjoon opened the window a crack to let in a cool breeze that passed through the room.

A small whimper made the leader whip his head around to take a good look at the eldest maknae. His cheeks were a blotchy red and his face felt a bit warm, his lips pressed into a thin line, eyes squeezed shut, as if trying to block out the world. THe oblivious leader thought that Jimin was having a nightmare, so he sat next to the younger boy, petting his hair, whispering soft encouraging words to ease the night terrors away. Slowly, the dancer's face calmed as he truely drifted into a dreamless sleep.

The BTS leader got up from the bed, satisfied that Jimin had stopped whimpering and closed the window, the stuffiness now gone and the room now feeling a tad cold. 

He sat down on an office chair that was identical to the one that Manager-nim had sat on in his room a hallway away. The room was quiet now, save for the soft snores that Jimin gave as he breathed in and out: it gave Rap Moster time to think.

Pity enveloped him, looking at the younger with remorse and sadness, the leader couldn't help but feel as if this had been his fault. His fault to make a world tour. His fault to endanger his brothers like this. Jimin was too young, to sweet, too much of a child. But the reality was cruel and palpable, the pictures dancing behind his eyelids as he let out a shuddered breath.

People wanted Jimin dead.

Namjoon burried his head into his hands.