2.3

It took an eternity to greet all guests, because as a Kim he couldn't greet just some guests and not others and then sneak away without telling anyone. Namjoon had done it anyway, he had greeted each guest with a tight-fitting smile—but still a smile—as he tried to keep at bay the tremor of his foot that had started to tap the floor with impatience. If Seokjin had noticed his strange nervousness, he didn't show it except for a puzzled glance he directed at him when they finally headed for the exit.

The car was already waiting for them, but Namjoon couldn't exactly run toward it, he had to move quietly next to his number one and let the valet open the door of the car for him. It was so ridiculous and so superfluous that he had to follow the etiquette even in those small circumstances, like it was written in a script. He bit his lip as he stepped awkwardly inside the car.

Or maybe what made him particularly sensitive in that moment was the urgency of knowing that he was in the wrong place and far away from where he wanted to be—and really close to disappointing his best friend.

"Tired?" Seokjin asked him once the car had finally taken off. Namjoon would have liked to be more eloquent than a simple nod of his head, but nervousness was shutting his throat.

"We'll be home soon, Joonie," Seokjin assured him, and Namjoon wanted to laugh because that was what he wished, but he couldn't ask the car to go faster or the time to stop. The younger sank into the seat, trying to suppress a frustrated growl that roared inside his chest. Then, he felt Seokjin's hand press warmly on his knee. Surprised, the young man turned to look at the older until he noticed that his leg had stopped trembling at his touch.

Namjoon blushed.

"Sorry, it's just…I’m not very cut out for these things. I guess you know that by now,” Namjoon answered, a bit embarrassed. Why did Seokjin have to make it more difficult by always being so considerate?

"That makes two of us, then. It's been so many years and I still can't get used to these events. At least now I don't have to go home alone," Seokjin said, winking at him. Ah. Namjoon observed him for a moment, distracted from his own problems, because the sense of solitude that had emanated from the older as he said those words had been almost tangible.

They were Seokjin and Namjoon, sharing the same space in a cubicle—two different people with a tide of secrets to divide them, but they were also soulmates, destined to keep each other company for the rest of their lives. Namjoon looked at Seokjin, trying to extract him from the Kim's context, but it was difficult when it was that stupid party ordered by the Kims that was making him miss an important opportunity.

Finally, the car stopped at the Kim's large villa gate and Namjoon breathed a sigh of relief, yet he still couldn't control his breathing to the pace he wanted. He had to keep the appearance even then since he didn't have a justified reason to rush out of the car and run into his room to change and get out. He, therefore, had to walk quietly along the pathway and keep showing the same quietness once at home.

Namjoon wanted to scream.

"Goodnight," Seokjin whispered to him, kissing him on his cheek, his wet and soft lips pausing for a moment there. Namjoon experienced—as always—that feeling of relief he had felt only when the other touched him, which he didn't know how to categorize.

"Good night," he replied, standing there frozen in his spot, a little bit embarrassed because that was what Jin, his soulmate, had caused him to feel. But then, when Seokjin disappeared from his sight, after turning the corner of the corridor to go to his rooms, Namjoon finally snapped out. He didn't have time anymore. He rushed angrily towards his room, opening the door harshly, and throwing himself inside. He didn't even want to check the hour on his cell phone because he knew he was already damn late, but he still wanted to be able to get there even if not on time. He wanted, if possible, to explain himself, and try to settle things even just a little bit. It didn't matter if Yoongi would have killed him with his bare hands afterward.

He quickly took off his elegant clothes that made him feel so much like a penguin and so little himself, and wore the first pair of jeans and a t-shirt he found in his wardrobe. Then, taking his cell phone and pushing it into his pocket, he opened the window and slipped out with the finesse dictated by urgency.

He managed to get out of the gate without any problems, just like the last time, and then, without further ado, he ran to the bus stop hoping to be still miraculously in time for the last ride. His legs felt heavy and his breath was coming out erratic, but he didn't stop until the bus stop came into view, almost slamming against the stop pole.

There had to be last ride. There had to one.

But then when he pulled out the cellphone with trembling fingers to check if the hour coincided with the bus timetable, the color left his cheeks as he cursed. He had arrived ten minutes later than the last ride.

He could still do it, however, he told himself, he could still call a cab and get there, it would cost him money but he could afford it. He instinctively put his hand in the back pocket of the jeans where he usually put his wallet but his hand touched just an empty spot. It was then that the aberrant reality struck him: he had forgotten to bring his wallet.

And then there was nothing that could stop Namjoon from yelling in the night. Why. Why everything was against him. He kicked the air because there was nothing to kick and he could not kick himself.

It was not fair how lately all the things that counted for him were also those he was forced to give up. It was not fair, not fair that he was forced to bury his dreams as if they were excessive dust to hide under a carpet.

He collapsed on the bench of the bus stop, whimpering at the thought of what he had to do. He picked up his cellphone and opened a message clutching the device tightly, then he typed two words, only two words but he knew it wouldn't have been enough. He knew everything had gone down the hill.

"Yoongi, I'm sorry."

Those had been the worst days Namjoon remembered.

That new life, those tedious lessons he understood everything about but still hated every detail, and with which he had to stuff his head without being able to devote his attention to what he really liked. And then that house, the Kims, the stupid etiquette lessons and the rehearsals, for what would be the most upsetting birthday of his nearly sixteen years of misery.

But above all, no Yoongi. Nothing but silence coming from him.

Namjoon had tried to call him and send him messages, he even went back to the pub the night after, almost risking being discovered by some of the surveillance personnel. No one had been able to tell him anything anyway. The owner of the pub shrugged when Namjoon had tried to question him.

"At least did he do well?" Namjoon had asked hopefully, and perhaps even with a pin of envy.

"He left everyone with open mouths," replied the other laconically, and Namjoon took the shot. He would have liked so much to be there.

"Where did you go though?" the man then asked, as if he wanted to know if Namjoon really had a good reason to let down his partner and give up such an opportunity.

"Family commitments," and it had felt so bitter having to reply that. Then, failing to resist being there anymore longer, Namjoon had left. He had taken the bus back to the Kim's residence and snuffled back inside his cage, suffocating his frustration in a pillow.

Externally his life seemed complete, privileged, his relationship with Jin had taken him to such a high status that many would die of envy. Namjoon, however, had never felt so dissatisfied and so alone. The only number two that felt alone on that stupid planet.

And yet, as sad as he certainly felt, he didn't even have the time to his wounds, because the days passed inexorably and just as inexorably his birthday party approached. He consoled himself, thinking that he would at least spend some time with his family even if Yoongi was not going to be there. Despite having been formally invited, the latter had not answered any of his messages. So no birthday with friends, no pub celebration with some small showcase. The economics book inside his bag had never seemed so heavy.

Namjoon let himself escape another sigh of deception as he gazed over the book of macroeconomics principles. Seokjin lifted his face from his even bigger book of law. Namjoon settled better in the chair, as always in awe when the older looked at him, as if Namjoon always deserved all his most devoted attention. Like before when Seokjin had entered the room with his books and looked up at him. That stare had been so clear, so full of affection that Namjoon had managed to drop his books and pencils on the ground. Seokjin giggled as if watching him make a fool of himself was the cutest view ever. Namjoon would never know what Seokjin found so charming in him, soulmates or not.

Under that intense look, however, the younger felt obliged to say something.

"Let's take a break? Or my head will soon combust," Namjoon said, trying to joke lightly when he instead felt his nape heavy as a concrete block. He saw Seokjin's perfect eyebrows furrow slightly.

"A headache again? It's not good at all, they are too frequent. Maybe you should do a medical check-up," Seokjin suggested, leaning from his chair and brushing his fringe from his forehead in a caress. Namjoon always struggled to not shudder under his touch.

"I went several times, there is no cure for headaches except taking painkillers or waiting for them to pass."

"But is there something that triggers them?" Seokjin asked.

"Not exactly. But when I'm stressed they become more frequent,” Namjoon let out. Shocked by his own admission, he looked at his soulmate to study his reaction. A strange expression passed over Seokjin's face, then soon turned into one of guilt. And though Namjoon had this impulse to get off at him for what he represented, he did not want for Jin to suffer. This irreconcilable duality was going to be his very end.

“It’s the party, isn't it? I'm sorry you can’t celebrate it with your friends, really, but the next day we can invite them here if you want or you can go out with them. I always do that, well, it's not like I have many friends, but Hyosang and I usually like to disappear from our duties for the whole day when our birthdays arrive. It's good every now and then to pretend to be not a Kim," Seokjin said. Namjoon smiled slightly at the innocence of Seokjin's words.

Once again he was struck by how much his words were drenched in feelings, and again the image of a Seokjin strolling through those endless corridors alone passed through his mind. "I'm so glad I met you," Seokjin had told him, as if finding Namjoon, his other half, had put an end to years of agony, like someone who had suffered thirst had finally found a source of water. Namjoon tore his gaze away. In another universe, in another life, he would have liked to say the same.

"I don't think I will. I don't even have a lot of friends, after the diploma we've taken all different ways," Namjoon commented.

"But wait, what about Yoongi? He'll be at the party, no? You two can do something later, I swear I won't intrude," Seokjin said, slightly clapping his hands.

"I wish it could be so simple. Yeah, Yoongi and I have not been talking to each other for days. I think I finally managed to make him mad for real this time," Namjoon said shaking his head. Why was he saying all these things to Seokjin? He had not expected to reveal so many thoughts, or maybe it was again that thing between soulmates, the pull that made them both unable to resist to each other.

He vaguely wondered if his headaches had become so frequent also due to his strong stubbornness of wanting to withstand Seokjin with all his strength. But the fact was that Namjoon was afraid that giving up himself to Jin would mean accepting all of him and that meant this life as well. And he didn't think he was ready to do so, not without losing too much of himself. Yet the impulse was strong, and Namjoon knew that if he backed up even a bit, it would be so easy to love Jin. But he could not. He could not.

"I'm sure Yoongi will forgive you," Seokjin said, taking his hand. The older was a very affectionate person who liked physical contact and Namjoon knew that it was normal to touch each other for soulmates, only he found it strange. Seokjin hadn't pushed too much with his demonstrations of affection anyway, almost feeling at a subconscious level his resistance.

"Do you think so?" Namjoon asked as if he was a child looking for reassurance.

"Yoongi seems to care for you a lot," Seokjin shrugged, shaking his head. "It's strange, you know, even though he is younger than you, he behaves almost like a big brother." Namjoon almost let a smirk on his face. Because he is. Yoongi is older than me.

"I know everything will solve, trust me. And now if you want, we can take a break, and get away from here for a while," Seokjin added.

"Actually I changed my mind, let's keep studying a bit longer. The headache will pass, they always do," Seokjin evaluated him for a long time but then he slowly nodded even though uncertain.

"Just the time for you to explain this chart to me, but then we'll get some fresh air in the garden," Seokjin said in a strange playful tone moving his chair close to him and their heads were so close Namjoon could smell his cologne and if he turned his head he could have. It was then that Seokjin planted a full kiss on his lips. It was short, just a mere touch of lips but Namjoon was left too flustered to say anything, let alone to explain a chart. He saw Seokjin's face light up and Namjoon realized that Jin had just use that as an excuse to steal a kiss.

"Jin," Namjoon said, while the other kept giggling. It wasn't like it had never happened, Seokjin had given him a kiss the same day of the introduction ceremony and a few more since Namjoon had moved in. But it did not happen that much. Yet every time it happened, every time Jin caught him, it happened that the fog in his head miraculously cleared out as if Seokjin had the same effect on him as his music.

"Oh, what is this?" Seokjin asked suddenly when his eye fell on the scrawled page of his book. Namjoon had the instinct to cover his book with his arm, however, Seokjin was quicker and it didn't give him time to hide his book and in a moment, the older had that book in his hands. Namjoon wanted to die. It wasn't planned for Seokjin to ever know about this activity. They were like two worlds too different to be able to meet or coexist.

Then the other said the words that changed the way Namjoon had always seen Kim Seokjin till then.

"Namjoon but this is beautiful! What is it, poetry? Did you write it?"And his eyes glittered with such sincerity that the young man felt a piece of himself capitulating. He covered his face with his hands.

"It's mine. But it's nothing important."

"You wrote it, so of course it's important," Seokjin replied. Namjoon took his hands off his face and looked at Seokjin as if he was looking at him for the first time.

"Come here," Namjoon whispered finally. Perhaps he would regret it, perhaps he would have cursed that moment because he knew he could not go back. But in that moment his desire to stop feeling lonely between the walls of that house was too strong to ignore. He knew he was probably going to pay the price but at least for that moment, Namjoon wanted to allow himself to feel complete.

"I started writing when I was thirteen," he began, and Seokjin never interrupted him and listened to every word.

That afternoon Namjoon finally let him in.

I think we will be happy together, you and I.

It could have been so simple, it could, it should have.

It wasn't as if Namjoon had given much weight to his birthday before. Considering his real age was out of place among those who would have been his peers, Namjoon had never had real friends to celebrate his birthday with before Yoongi and the pub. He was quite sure he would have systematically forgotten the date if it weren't for his mother. On his birthday, she had never missed greeting him in the morning with freshly cooked biscuits, and the whole day had always been a succession of his favorite dishes.

That birthday would have been different though and it would hardly be forgotten.

If he had thought he looked like a penguin the week before, imprisoned in an expensive suit he even feared to touch, Namjoon didn't consider the smoking the Kims had chosen for him for this occasion. He felt like a huge cumbersome wax block that had been told to walk.

They had awakened him at an insane hour in the morning for a final rehearsal of the program and for the Kims' formal congratulations on breakfast. Then they sent him to cut his hair, and God only knew what other beauty treatment, but Namjoon felt that his eyebrows would no longer be the same. When he finally got out for lunch, he didn't have time to rest because then someone had kidnapped both him and Seokjin (with whom he had not even been able to exchange a word) for a full makeover. His soulmate, of course, since he already had a good base, had reached even more ridiculous levels of beauty, while he had been turned into someone so different, that he could hardly recognize himself in the mirror.

Namjoon sighed as he watched his reflection, unable to reconstitute that image with himself.

That was not him, that was someone who had taken his place and was now having his fun, smirking at him as if he wanted to remember who was the best version of the two. Namjoon honestly found both versions detestable and he would have given anything to be just himself.

He hit his head slightly against the mirror's surface. It had not even begun and he already felt sick to his stomach. That was why, since he was too nervous to distract himself with his music, Namjoon rushed out of his room in search of Seokjin.

He had never done it before. He had seen Jin return to his room a lot of times but had never followed him, and the few times he had actually done so was because the older had invited him, often to return a book he had taken from Namjoon’s personal collection, the only vestige of his old life, and very few times to spend time together. They often pass some time together in the common spaces, in the garden, in the living room, in the library. Rare times in Namjoon's room and only when Seokjin timidly knocked at his room door to ask him what he was doing.

It was strange to live under the same roof and spend so little time together, as if they were two strangers forced to live and not, in fact, two soulmates. The fact was that for Namjoon it was basically like that, two strangers.

Yet after that day in the library, after Jin had had a taste of his world, Namjoon could no longer see him as an unwanted appendix. Jin, after all, had always appeared as something too bright for the walls of that house, but now he looked even more bright. Because Seokjin hadn't laughed, he had not defined his passion as a stupid hobby. He had listened and in his smile, Namjoon had read his understanding, and at that moment it was as if he were no longer one against the whole world but two.

Namjoon sighed again. For the first time, he thought about how they would have been if he and Jin could have existed somewhere else away from there. He shook his head, it wasn't the right time to think about that. After all, what would change? It was something that could never happen.

Namjoon slowly walked through the long corridor separating the dependence from the main house where Jin's room was located. The door was half-open, but Namjoon knocked on anyway because he did not want to interrupt the older in whatever activity.

"Come in," Seokjin said in a distracted voice. When Namjoon opened the door the first thing his eyes noticed were Seokjin's fingers buttoning up his shirt. Namjoon froze on the threshold, while Seokjin looked surprised as if he could not believe that the younger had knocked on his door.

"Oh sorry, you weren't ready yet," he apologized, but the older gestured with his hand and then pulled him in by the sleeve.

"Nervous?" Seokjin asked with his usual kindness, but Namjoon saw that he also seemed strangely uncomfortable.

"A bit. It sounds all so big that just thinking about it makes me feel dizzy," Namjoon commented. "I have the impression that I will end up smashing my face on the floor as soon as we get out of the car."

"It can't happen because it would mean I would fall as well since I will be holding your hand, and that's not possible," Seokjin tried to joke. Namjoon smiled slightly in return.

"What about Yoongi?" Seokjin asked a bit hesitant. Namjoon shook his head.

"Nothing yet, I'm starting to think he'll hate me forever."

Seokjin then made a funny thing. Like every time he felt that Namjoon was struck by a strong emotion, he raised his hand to touch him, knowing how much physical, though superficial, contact could calm them both. Yet instead of making contact directly with skin, as usual, he barely touched his shoulder in a hasty caress.

"I'm sorry. Really. That he is not there today. But I'm with you and so is your family and I know that this party may seem too much for you, but we'll make sure you have a big birthday anyway,” Seokjin said, and he seemed really sorry, almost as if Yoongi not being there was his own personal fault. Then turning quickly, as if he was embarrassed—something that had never happened before—he went to the closet where he pulled out a small package.

"Today, we didn't even have time alone and I couldn't greet you properly. So here, this is for you. Happy birthday Namjoon," Seokjin said in a tone so full of emotions that younger didn't know what to think. But his hands were soon full of the package, and this helped to distract him. He took it in his hands, inspecting it.

"It's a small thing, I know I could give you something more important, but when I saw it I thought it was perfect for you," Seokjin said, passing his hand through his hair. It was a new scene for Namjoon to have a Seokjin less confident of himself, but he let it go it for the moment and unwrapped his gift. When he finally got the best of the paper his fingers touched thick leather.

"I know you prefer the margins of your books judging by how full they are. But the clerk told me that the cover of this book is pretty much bomb-proof, so even if it falls it won't be ruined, and besides I wanted it to be an encouragement to continue," Seokjin said bluntly. In his hands, Namjoon had a book with empty pages and a beautiful leather cover. It was so beautiful that Namjoon was afraid to even open it, let alone fill it with his dumbbells.

"Thank you," he said, taking a step forward for the first time, making Seokjin blush.

"It's nothing," his soulmate said with a smile. "I'm glad you like it," the older whispered. At that moment someone knocked on the door. Seokjin then stepped back. "I think it's time. If you're ready we can go," he said, offering Namjoon his hand in the usual gesture. The younger took it.

"Let's go."

It looked like a cake exploded from too much frosting, that was how his supposed birthday party looked like. The Kims had rented the entire attic and terrace of a luxury mansion and had all the furnishings been renewed and Namjoon had never been to such a party in his life before this. The worst thing was that all that craziness was in his honor. It was a pity, really, that he was the kind of person who would have been content with a fast food meal, an evening chat and, why not, some good music for his birthday.

That all those people were there to see that the soulmate of the Kims' heir was ridiculous, but judging by how everyone had stared at him, Namjoon had to re think some things. Every single guest had scanned him from head to toe, from his hairstyle to the kind of shoes he wore. The only positive thing was the presence of his family who seemed as uncomfortable as he himself felt. They were all dolled up in expensive clothes, a Kims' gift, and they looked a bit disoriented among so important and wealthy people.

Namjoon intimately adored them and wanted them to remain so, to always stand out because it meant they were different from all that fair of vanities. Fortunately, he did not have to wait too long to join them and hug them, because as soon as the clapping had finished after his and Jin’s arrival hand in hand, Seokjin himself walked in that direction.

"Mom!" Namjoon felt like a child. Technically it wasn't like he was held as a hostage, he could go visit his parents but it was also true that technically he had officially changed his home.

He was even more happy to find that their tables were side by side. It wasn't like eating in their old kitchen but it was something. Then his gaze landed on the empty chair at his parents' table and his gaze wavered. That was the place that had been reserved for Yoongi.

Namjoon immediately turned his gaze away.

It would have been the first birthday in years that he passed without his best friend.

The table where he and Jin were sitting was centrally visible to everyone and Namjoon felt exposed as in a showcase though fortunately what attracted most of the looks was not him but the Kims who were also sitting at the same table, together with Seokjin's uncles and their son.

Namjoon had talked to Seokjin's cousin, Hyosang, only a couple of times at some family dinner. He had seemed eccentric, terribly smart and also a little vain. But he and Seokjin appeared to be very close and it wasn't hard to imagine those two as kids running around to avoid the staff surveillance. Seokjin had told him that Hyosang had always been the rebel of the family but that since he had met his soulmate, his behavior had changed completely.

Right at that moment, Hyosang, now his acquired cousin, turned around. Their eyes crossed and a strange smile was painted on the lips of the latter. Even the first time he saw the young man, Namjoon felt like the other was scrutinizing him with a strange interest, and that made him watchful. However, he had nothing to blame him for except for this feeling, and he had always been kind and funny the few occasions he had to talk with him

They had sat down but he knew it would be just for a brief moment since it was just reception time. Seokjin's shoulder touched his, to reassure him like a comforting presence. Namjoon watched him intently though, the older seemed distracted that night, but when he realized he was being looked at, he gave him his usual kind smile and that calmed him down a bit.

The evening went on for hours, but Namjoon for the third time, had developed yet another terrible headache. It had to be pretty evident in his face because both his mother and Seokjin looked worried and even Ms. Kim's stone face seemed to be shaken by a veil of concern. He was probably looking very pale, Namjoon knew that when his headache was very strong his usually healthy color became waxy.

"Joonie," Seokjin whispered in the middle of the dance floor when they had the duty to open the dances, "I promise that after the toast I'll take you out of here," he said squeezing his forearm.

Namjoon smiled, though weakly.

"What are you gonna do, kidnap me?"

"If I have to," but Seokjin seemed strangely determined. This made Namjoon smile more and made him lighten a little. Perhaps it was good that Yoongi did not come. He would be bored to death and he would have tried to sneak out after the first hour trying to drag him behind with the excuse of "No one will notice even if it's your birthday," which would be far too true.

Although apparently everything from the menu to the orchestra, to the cake, was all in his honor for the most fake of all nineteenth birthdays, everyone had lost interest in him after the first hour. Of course they had looked at him for good, and no one had missed the opportunity to introduce themselves and talk to them if they could. First of all, the second Consul Park, who since his son's birthday, had never missed the opportunity to ask him complicated questions about politics whose content Namjoon ignored. He answered by using the hardest words possible only in an attempt to be left in peace. The fact that Seokjin was suppressing the laughter behind a glass of champagne had encouraged him in this behavior. "Don't worry about the Consul Park, nobody likes him," Seokjin confessed to him when Namjoon had asked him if he went too far.

In the end, Seokjin kept his promise and really succeeded in dragging him away after the toast. Namjoon greeted his family who would have stayed a little longer before retiring. The party would probably continue till late at night without the birthday boy. But after all that machine had been mounted more to show off the Kim's greatness to the world rather than to celebrate him, even though they had covered him in gifts.

"Thank you," Namjoon whispered leaning slightly against Seokjin' shoulder.

"I'm sorry,” Seokjin whispered, staring at the elevator floor. The tone was enough to arouse curiosity in Namjoon because the older did sounded like he had something to be forgiven of.

"You keep on saying it."

"Because I'm really sorry," Seokjin repeated his gaze still low.

"It wasn't that bad. The food was great and the cake was delicious. I think I've never eaten anything better. And my parents enjoyed dancing and meeting new people. I enjoyed myself too.”

"Do not lie to me, you're a bad liar," Seokjin said, finally lifting his head and glancing at him.

"It was fun to trick Consul Park though. I didn't think the few Latin words I knew would make him go crazy. And it was funny when Hyosang accidentally poured his champagne on the Park heir's cigarette,” Seokjin laughed lightly then.

"Those two had hated each other since elementary school, since Hyosang had managed to make him end up in trouble for something he himself had done."

Namjoon laughed, but he regretted immediately because the ache in his head got worse.

Seokjin looked at him with concern as they came out of the elevator but Namjoon didn't like that look, it was as if to apologize once more and he couldn't understand the reason.

Then Namjoon slammed against Seokjin's back who had stopped abruptly in the middle of the atrium. Namjoon, surprised, was about to ask what had happened, but then he saw a figure standing in front of the swinging doors of the entrance. It was Yoongi, elegantly dressed, though a bit ruffled as if he had thrown his clothes on in a hurry and fury. Despite the elegance, he seemed totally out of it. Yoongi seemed to notice his gaze.

"I thought they would not let me pass if I was dressed in sweatshirts and jeans," Yoongi said, and his tone seemed to be destroyed, broken, desperate.

“It was a good idea because I was right, you should have seen the gazes of the bodyguards at the entrance. But I had to see you Joon. I...I had to see you. I know I was bad even though it was my right to be angry. I also know that I was awful to ignore your birthday, it's just…" Namjoon took a few steps toward him.

He had never seen Yoongi like that, none of the Yoongi in his memory had ever looked this way and this frightened him. Something had happened, and suddenly all the signals he had caught but he had chosen to let pass, screamed loudly in his head. He had to come at him first and ask him how he was. He should have thought about it before the disaster of that missed event occurred. Namjoon turned to Seokjin and he did not need to say a word. Seokjin, his number one, understood.

"Go. I cover you, "Seokjin said.

Namjoon wanted to say more—do more, but instead he took Yoongi by the sleeve and dragged him out towards the back door.