The careless chirping of blissful birds whilst the serene sun was setting awoke a troubled Taehyung from his induced slumber. Opening huge eyes slowly, an orange glow reflected off his tanned skin. Sniffing once, he dry lips before reaching a stiff left hand to fan his dark brown hair forward.                   

Pausing, he was certain his other hand was used. But for some reason, the boy could not move his right hand. Tilting his chin to the side, he shouted a single syllable of despair when he saw a silver cuff attaching his bruised wrist to his bed rails.

Now turning rapidly, he tried to locate someone, anyone.

His lips are parched. He doesn’t even know what day of the week it is let alone why he’s in this criminal predicament.

Gulping, he sees vivid memories flashing before his eyes. Memories of calling out for his parents but they didn’t respond. Back then they did the same thing. Back then, his wrist was underdeveloped and small- the cuffs fell to his hands but his bones prevented the silver bastards from falling off.

Heart rate propelling, he shouts again. He bangs his head on the metal headboard lest this be a living nightmare of his memories.

He shouts and shouts, “Let me go!”

Until a police officer enters in haste, “Hey, hey! Calm down!” He reasons with the boy.

Furrowing his brows and scowling, Taehyung shoots daggers at the white haired, aged officer who stands smug. 

“Why is this thing on me?” The younger roars with unreal anger.

“Woah, take it easy kid,” he replies sarcastically. As Taehyung traces the officer’s movements, he feels - no - he can see him laughing. He can see him planning on embarrassing and humiliating the boy.

Eyes white with fury, “You wait until I get loose...just wait...” he mumbles, loud enough for the officer to hear.

Walking slowly towards the bed, “And is that a threat?”

Gritting teeth and biting his tongue, the boy closes his eyes tight and tries to stop the instruments playing. The cymbals were the most deafening, followed by the irregular drums. Banging on torn drums sounds like the scraping of nails down a chalkboard.

Just before Taehyung could explode with internal frustration, the officer was now speaking on a walkie talkie.

“...The boy is awake,” eying Taehyung with pity, “Urm - yes, he is co-operating. Sure thing, over.”

The cymbals stopped, but drums remained. “Why did you lie. I just threatened you.”

Sighing, the officer took a seat. “You’re under arrest for the suspected murder of Jackson Wang.”

A silence encapsulated the males. A silence both awkward and ready to be broken any moment.

“Why me?” Taehyung whispered as his saucers gazed down at the cuff. His bottom lip had pouted forward like a baby.

The officer thought he looked like a lost child. No - the officer knows this boy isn’t the killer. He can somewhat read the non-verbal actions of suspects and his experience tells him this kid can’t even kill a fly. This kid has serious issues, but isn’t a killer.

“I can’t answer that son. Just a couple minutes now before the police van arrives to-”

“Take me away,” the younger looks into the distance as the dark night sky is taking over.             

The officer nods before exiting the room with dismay. He leaves Taehyung alone with his gruelling thoughts because he knows money can buy anything. Money can cover up anything at the expense of the vulnerable.

Half an hour passes as the brown haired boy thinks of many things. Jackson’s wasted life, how Hobi is doing, where Jin must be right now, where Jimin took Jisoo and most importantly - why Jungkook only feels a breath away.

Taehyung can feel Jungkook calling his name somewhere. But he’s saddest at the thought of not being able to protect him. Some may say love is attachment and a burden to those who taught you something, but Taehyung taught Jungkook how to love himself. Only when you love your precious soul can you consider attaching another to yours in the name of love.

Love can’t be bought, it can’t be manipulated. Love is stronger. It waits. It continues to wait until the right person comes back home. 

Knock knock.

Yoongi’s fear happens now.

Rolling his eyes, Taehyung knows he cannot prevent whoever it is from entering.

Knock knock.

“The door is open,” he replies lethargically. Honestly, he is tired of running away.

Slumping in a strop, the boy turned his large eyes to the figure that entered.

A tall man with light silver hair neatly combed back into a quiff. Lean and lanky, he was dressed in a black suit shirt tucked into black trousers. A long, black overcoat hung off his hanger-like shoulders. Dimples formed when he smiled that eerie smile he was doing now. His features were sharp, his eyes cut through the boy like a spear. His hands were draped in black gloves as he extended a palm to wave hello.

Indescribable feelings shot through the younger as the instruments stopped playing in his head. Instead, there was nothing. No music, no running, no laughs, no whispers. Just an empty mind which meant his heart was thinking.

And his heart was sinking at the sight of this man.

He froze up and could only look at him.

“Good evening, my name is Namjoon,” he greeted whilst curling the outstretched fingers one at a time. The voice was trombone deep and very authoritative.

Gulping, Taehyung nodded. Namjoon was a familiar name.

Taking a seat at the edge of the bed, he analysed the boy. He grinned. “Don’t look so alarmed, I’m just here to talk.”

But the younger couldn’t find a voice.

Pulling a gloved hand out of his inside pocket, Namjoon produced a small key. Meeting Taehyung’s gaze, he stood up and strolled towards the boy before bending his head to unlock the cuff. As it clicked open, Taehyung smiled.

His voice returned.

“Thank you Namjoon,” he barely choked in response.

Head still bent so they were at eye level, Namjoon got a closer assessment of the boy. Reaching a finger out, he gently a loose hair strand from the younger’s brown eyes.

But Taehyung did not flinch in the slightest. Instead, he warmed to the touch.

Smirking, “I am Jimin’s social worker. It’s nice to finally meet the boy he can’t stop talking about.”

His smile was still lingering, anyone would believe his lies. Taehyung was of course wrapped around his little finger in an instant.

The younger snorted before rubbing his wrist, “I think you’ve got the wrong guy mister.”

Still in his crouched position, “Do I?” Baring his teeth in a grin.

Turning to the man with a pout, “Who do you think I am?”

Clucking his teeth, “Why, you are Jungkook of course. Jimin can’t stop-”

“Talking about me. I got it. But I’m Taehyung. Kim Taehyung the trouble maker.  So you can cuff me again if you like,” he interjected with a forlorn expression.

Namjoon has always liked this kid.

This kid is like his teen mirror.

“My sincere apologies, Taehyung,” turning around, “Then where is the Jungkook?”

“I don’t know, probably with Jimin,” he mumbled.

There was a silence, Namjoon was still crouching. Eying the boy carefully, “You don’t seem like a troublemaker to me. You seem like a good kid, but why did they arrest you?”

“They think I’m a murderer.”

“Murderer?”

Gulping, “They think I killed a boy called Jackson. But it-”

“Was Jimin,” Namjoon added quietly.

Taehyung turned rapidly with wide eyes. His mouth parted as his whole face was shocked, “How...I mean...I mean...”

“Jimin told me himself. That’s why I arranged for you to be released, the matter is closed and you are a free boy. The police won’t bother you again. I will personally see to it.”

In that moment, Namjoon played a game with the younger. Taehyung owes him; there is a psychological debt which the boy will choose to repay because Namjoon is the good guy in his eyes. When everyone else turned their back against the handsome lad, this wicked man sheltered his poor, malnourished soul.

Smiling a small smile, Taehyung finally found someone on his side. Someone powerful who knows the truth. From the moment Namjoon stepped in, his aura screamed important and now he is on Taehyung’s side. Taehyung sees his old Daegu life returning and he won’t let Namjoon go.

“I’m aware we don’t know each other but you can always find a friend in me. I won’t turn you down if you need someone to talk to. I am always here.”

Namjoon finally stood up tall and graceful as Taehyung tried to get up too.

“No no, you need to rest. Here,” he pulled out a business card, “If you need a favour, just ask.”

Turning his back on the younger, he counted to ten in his mind as he proceeded to the door.

1, 2, 3, 4...

As his finger buds smothered themselves over the rectangle card with numbers and an address printed in fancy writing, the boy bit down on his bottom lip.

Looking up, “Wait.”

5.

Checkmate.

Ignoring his voice, the older approached the door.

Furrowing his brows, he spoke louder. “Mr Namjoon, wait.”

Said man stops to beam with satisfaction.

Turning his head, “Mm?”

Eyes sparkling, “How can I repay you? I mean...murder would’ve been a life in prison and well, I guess what I’m trying to say is thank you. I - I want to do something for you too. Jimin is my step-brother, I’ll try to be better to him.”

Namjoon decides to turn his whole body, “Jimin is an orphan. He has a very troubled childhood which I tried to take him away from. The truth is,” he sighed to secretly analyse the other.

The younger was now