"Glad you like my playlists." Did he sound sarcastic? Of course he sounded sarcastic. "I know Jungkook. He's cute. He's sweet and he's just a kid, I tried protecting him." Failed, obviously, but it wasn't as if he'd figured he had a high success rate. That didn't make him feel better about it. "You have that walkie-talkie thing, you got my fucking phone. You can check in on it. I want to know he is safe."
This wasn't something he could just back out from. "Do it and I'll tell you where my original stuff is saved." Whatever, maybe using music would work. "I have a program on there that can create beats. I could teach you."
"I already know where your music is, I searched all morning." Seriously. Three hours dedicated to finding it but he did. He sang a little of his song, amused by it. STD was pretty funny, how did he even think of that shit? Reaching out, he idly grabbed the walkie and pressed the button, pulling it up to his mouth. "Hobi? Tae? One of you get back to me, I need a status of Jungkook. Over."
He set the walkie down and turned his head back from the phone, smiling at Yoongi with no cares in the world. It was so free. He felt so good. Better than he'd felt since ... since ever. He couldn't remember when he'd last been happy. "I couldn't sleep last night, too excited, so I went around the lockers and I found yours. I found your pad and I sort of ... smushed our stuff together."
It was art. It was beauty. "It's incredible. We mesh so well. I mean, you're better but you have more experience. I wish I could catch up but I'll always be behind."
"Yeah, well, I'm older than you, you stupid kid." Whatever, he didn't feel like not insulting him right now, although he obviously knew that Namjoon wasn't stupid. Actually, no, he thought he was an absolute idiot, he just happened to be intelligent. Apparently those were very far from mutually exclusive. "You ever heard about privacy? You can't just go through my stuff without asking, asshole."
He'd have liked to flip him off, but since that wasn't an option he poked his tongue out and demonstratively looked to the side. He might have said more, but the walkie clicked on and Hobi responded.
"Jungkook's fine. TaeTae and him are crying to each other. 'm sitting outside. It's really boring."
"You know, Ten was pretty much crying in Jin's arms. Our boys are so emotional, I guess they're growing up. Jimin is fine, I saw him dancing in the hall. Over." At least someone was doing well. "Hey, Hobi, you'll like this. Yoongi just called me a stupid kid."
Well, it was funny. He laughed and set the walkie back down, turning around to look at Yoongi with a smile. The most relaxed and honest smiled he'd had since he met Yoongi.
"I would say I'm sorry but I'm not. I didn't look at anything else, just the music. I don't care about people, I care about what they create. Like books, music, films. It's nothing personal." He shrugged and spun around around, switching up the next song. "I'm sure you can suck it up and deal. It's just a few days."
"Anyone keeping me tied up needs to have a damn good reason for it and you're not man enough for that." Yoongi just didn't know what else to say at the moment, so he said that and glared at nothing, shaking his head. Namjoon really did think he didn't care about people, huh? He didn't know himself well.
"You surround yourself with people. You study them to figure out how they tick. You care about people. Maybe you don't enjoy them, but you care." Yoongi could say that with confidence, just from all of this. However, he didn't doubt that there was nothing but the music. "Anyway, you'd have to be an even bigger idiot than I already think you are if you thought there's anything I own that's more personal than the music."
He tsked, shaking his head. "Stupid kid." Sticking with that.
"You know, that's what my dad used to call me. Stupid kid. Among other things, you know? Bastard, loser, faggot, know it all. He used to say that I was never going to achieve anything, I was just going to die and slip out of this world and no one would remember me, no one would care." Well. He'd like to see them forget him now. Sooner or later, they'd realise what he'd done and they'd know who did it. No one could ignore him then.
"I always thought if I made music, no one could forget me. Then they took my paper away from me so I guess I had to get creative, huh? I preferred music. I made some for all my people. They're all so talented." He guessed he did care about them in some ways. "I can appreciate someone without caring."
"Your father didn't know you, he had no right to say any of that. Glad he's dead." Whatever, he'd not let himself get pulled too deeply into that. "I know you. I get to call you a stupid kid." Especially when he was very obviously being one. He glared at Namjoon and shook his head.
"Pft. You? Right. You're made for passion. You are driven all the time. You can't do anything without caring. You're just a stupid kid, so you don't know." Seemed clear to him. "You don't even know that you care about me. Now, that's a stupid thing to do. You're the only one in the world to do that."
"He knew me. That's how he hurt me. See, the longer you spend with someone, the better they know how to hurt you. You can say shit to me and maybe it'll hit the mark, maybe it won't. But he knew. He knew me." Better than anyone maybe. He wasn't sure. He sometimes wondered if his father had wanted all of this from him, if he wanted to ruin him or if there was some grand purpose he should have been aimed towards.
Turning his head back, he looked at Yoongi for a long time before shrugging. "I like your music." That was all. That was enough. "It's not stupid but, uh, yeah. Don't get too attached to the feeling. We both know there's a countdown looming. You're gonna be fine, don't worry." Him? He was less sure.
"Yeah, there's a countdown. Because you are a stupid kid." In case that wasn't clear yet. Yoongi was less sure whether he was going to be fine. He reckoned that they might not sweat civilians too much when storming this place. But that wasn't even something he could concern himself too much with. He couldn't control that, if it happened.
He could talk to Namjoon. "Is that how you do it with your brother?" Just a question. "You know how to control him."
"No." Well, if this was getting close to the end and he was screwed, why not just be honest? It was something he never dared to share but who the hell was Yoongi going to tell? No one. He wouldn't let him get near Jin or anyone like that. Not until he was gone. "I don't control Tae. I try, every day, I gotta make him need me and fear me because if he doesn't listen to me then things get bad. It's not that I want to be like this with him but --"
Tae could snap. He just did sometimes and every time, he lost a little piece of himself and left bodies in his wake. "You know, one minute I think I have him, I know I control him and then the next, there's blood everywhere and he's crying to me and what am I supposed to do? I just got to clean it up. I handle it. I'm the hyung."
And he was good at it. He looked at Yoongi and frowned. "Just like I'll handle this. I said if I was king for a day, I'd protect you."
"Must be tough." Well, it had to. Yoongi always felt for Namjoon, but then, he had a lot of empathy. It wasn't as if he didn't care about people, he just didn't let anyone close to him. Maybe he cared too much sometimes. Like now, when he couldn't stop worrying about Jungkook. "I told you then. You shouldn't have to worry about protecting me. I'm the hyung. I can take care of you."
There were a lot of ways to do that. Not that any would change much.
"You can't take care of me now. I got maybe two or three days to be king and then -- I dunno. Dead, maybe, if I'm lucky. You can't be my hyung, let it go." He laughed a little, unsure what else to do. He grinned at Yoongi and then shook his head, turning back around to change up the music and turn it up a little. "Hell no, you'll beat the shit outta me with that one hand. I'm not that much of a stupid kid."
Shaking his head, he scanned through the music on this thing and then paused, pulling a face. "Why do girls these days wear Jordans when they could wear converse highs? I'll never get it." This girl on the album cover was pretty but no converse highs, no Namjoon.
"...you think I'd beat the shit outta you with one hand? Who the fuck do you think I am?" Honestly, the assumption was almost flattering. "And of course I can be your hyung. Stupid kid."
Just to get that thing in there one time. Yoongi paused for a moment at Namjoon's baffling questions, just staring at him in utter confusion. "What?" It was times like this, he could see how he was crazy. Well, and this entire situation, but mostly...
Never mind that Yoongi was wearing converse highs right now, they were good work shoes, but whatever. "That's the most stupid thing I've ever heard. Who cares about that? Just get shoes that are easy to take off."
"Are you fucking kidding me? Man. If I had one day in the world to do anything, I'd go meet the guy who made converse highs and thank him for giving me this gift, you know? Fuck chanel and McQueen. There ain't anyone who doesn't look fine in converse highs and --" As he turned around to make his point, he looked down at Yoongi's shoes, looked back up.
And then he blushed furiously and turned away.
"... I forgot guys wear them. Fuck off." Whatever. He wasn't hitting on Yoongi. "They're just hot. I got, uh, I got a thing for it. It's not a creepy sex thing but I just like them."
"Uh-huh. Don't worry, I don't think you're about to explore your foot fetish with me when you've got K-drama doctor tied to your bed." Well, it was literally true, so whatever. Might as well tease him about it, the situation was so absurd. "Now, K-drama doctor in converse highs, maybe that's the thing to bring it all together."
This had to be the most specific fetish he'd ever heard about. "Weirdo."
"I'm not gonna -- I don't wanna be with the Doc, you know? I just don't want other people to fuck him. He's soft. I think he means well. He pisses me off so he probably does." Namjoon held his head up, giving Yoongi an annoyed look. "I know, I know, I care. Don't say it, I'm tired of hearing it. You're like a broken record." A broken record that was turning him on.
Shit, Jin in converse highs-- that was pretty hot. Not that Yoongi wasn't right now. He couldn't stop sharing at his shoes. "I wrote a song about converse highs... wanna hear it?"
"Good. He's not your type anyway, clearly you're more into guys who studied nothing and got nothing to show for it. I'm the best option in this dating sim." That would be a terrible game. Yoongi leaned back, trying to shift a little. His arms hurt and he really wanted to scratch his thigh where the stupid duct tape had his pants pinch his skin, but that was a strange thing to get obsessed with. It was just much itchier whenever one couldn't actually scratch.
Whatever. "Sure. Show me your weird fetish song." Hey, he had to tease.
"I don't have a type, I never, uh, I never dated. I like converse highs and ... like a white shirt, jeans. I dunno. I never really thought about type. Not that I don't know shit, you know? I've fucked. Dunno if they were my type but I did it in prison." And that pretty much said as much as it needed to say. He shrugged, unsure what else to do with this talk. He didn't know if he had a type. Was Jin it? ... Was Yoongi? "You're pretty handsome."
So. There. He looked back at the phone and shook his head. "For being rude, you don't get to hear it. You can just forever wondered how cool my converse song was."
"Aw, come on. I could do a guest verse about how Jordans are better cause they're easy to take off." And not think about how he was wearing the damn outfit Namjoon was describing. Honestly, it was a common outfit and who had that specific a type anyway? Luckily his jeans weren't visible with the uniform overall, but he supposed his shirt was obvious with the buttons undone.
Maybe Namjoon was trolling him. Although he seemed strangely sincere. "My type is stupid assholes, so you're right up my alley."
"Hey, watch who you call stupid. You know, I was the top 1% of South Korea. Worldwide. IQ 159." He smirked playfully as he turned around in his seat and tried his best to look cocky and cool. "I got a sexy brain, hyung. Nothing is hotter than being smart. I would have done anything I wanted, I could have been anything... and here I am."
He shrugged his shoulders and turned back to the music, laughing a little as he switched over to English. "On the plus side, I can appreciate music in so many languages. I was born to be a rapper, man. I got jams."
"Good for you. I... I do music." That was all he really did, all he really ever wanted to do. Producing music. Rapping. Writing songs. "I play ball. Oh, and I'm good at cleaning." Well, it was about his only job qualification. Paid the bills, since music sure wasn't doing that. Maybe one day.
"I prefer Korean." Also, his English sucked. Although of course he used some when rapping. He could do some. "Here we were such a good match and now I'm too dumb for you."
"I just took over a loony bin and I'm sure the cops are gonna storm this place in like three days. We have three guns and I'm already concerned that the immates need more support to not accidentally kill themselves in those three days. Nah, man, you're not too dumb for me. I may be just right." Sticking his tongue out a little, he laughed. And then he froze, a little shocked and unsure what to do. He just laughed. He was laughing, smiling, talking like he had a friend.
And like that, Namjoon felt something snap. What was happening? He gulped hard and got up, trying to open a window so he could breath. "It's hot-- it feels hotter. Is it hot to you? I can't-- it's hard to breathe."
"...Namjoon?" Yeah, that would be one of those times when it would be really useful to not be tied up like this. "Hey. Take a breath. Close your eyes. Keep breathing. Breathe in, then breathe out." Yoongi wished he knew more about... a lot of things, really, but mostly anything related to Namjoon's sickness. He knew he had issues, obviously, but he wasn't a doctor. He had no idea what to do. "Breathe in and out."
"I can't--" Something was wrong. Something was really wrong with him. He kept thinking about Yoongi, his insides were screaming out at him that he was happy and he didn't know how to react. He couldn't seem to get any air, even when he stuck his head out of the window to breathe. He ducked back in and then everything sort of stopped.
And Namjoon fainted.
He wasn't out for long but he cracked his eyes open, groaning where he lay and looking ahead. Oh. Converse highs. "I have a song about those." Shit. He was on the floor. "Hyung, I fell."
All right. So clearly he was missing some memories, Yoongi had heard about that. Hell, he knew that, though in his case it needed a lot of alcohol to forget. The question was how much he was missing and the other thing was how he called him hyung. Just like that. Interesting. Yoongi bit down on his lower lip as he thought, shifting his foot a little, as if to show off the shoes. "You do?"
He just had to figure out how much he remembered. What had caused this? He needed to know if there was a pattern. "Can you show me the song?"
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This wasn't something he could just back out from. "Do it and I'll tell you where my original stuff is saved." Whatever, maybe using music would work. "I have a program on there that can create beats. I could teach you."
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He set the walkie down and turned his head back from the phone, smiling at Yoongi with no cares in the world. It was so free. He felt so good. Better than he'd felt since ... since ever. He couldn't remember when he'd last been happy. "I couldn't sleep last night, too excited, so I went around the lockers and I found yours. I found your pad and I sort of ... smushed our stuff together."
It was art. It was beauty. "It's incredible. We mesh so well. I mean, you're better but you have more experience. I wish I could catch up but I'll always be behind."
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He'd have liked to flip him off, but since that wasn't an option he poked his tongue out and demonstratively looked to the side. He might have said more, but the walkie clicked on and Hobi responded.
"Jungkook's fine. TaeTae and him are crying to each other. 'm sitting outside. It's really boring."
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Well, it was funny. He laughed and set the walkie back down, turning around to look at Yoongi with a smile. The most relaxed and honest smiled he'd had since he met Yoongi.
"I would say I'm sorry but I'm not. I didn't look at anything else, just the music. I don't care about people, I care about what they create. Like books, music, films. It's nothing personal." He shrugged and spun around around, switching up the next song. "I'm sure you can suck it up and deal. It's just a few days."
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"You surround yourself with people. You study them to figure out how they tick. You care about people. Maybe you don't enjoy them, but you care." Yoongi could say that with confidence, just from all of this. However, he didn't doubt that there was nothing but the music. "Anyway, you'd have to be an even bigger idiot than I already think you are if you thought there's anything I own that's more personal than the music."
He tsked, shaking his head. "Stupid kid." Sticking with that.
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"I always thought if I made music, no one could forget me. Then they took my paper away from me so I guess I had to get creative, huh? I preferred music. I made some for all my people. They're all so talented." He guessed he did care about them in some ways. "I can appreciate someone without caring."
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"Pft. You? Right. You're made for passion. You are driven all the time. You can't do anything without caring. You're just a stupid kid, so you don't know." Seemed clear to him. "You don't even know that you care about me. Now, that's a stupid thing to do. You're the only one in the world to do that."
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Turning his head back, he looked at Yoongi for a long time before shrugging. "I like your music." That was all. That was enough. "It's not stupid but, uh, yeah. Don't get too attached to the feeling. We both know there's a countdown looming. You're gonna be fine, don't worry." Him? He was less sure.
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He could talk to Namjoon. "Is that how you do it with your brother?" Just a question. "You know how to control him."
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Tae could snap. He just did sometimes and every time, he lost a little piece of himself and left bodies in his wake. "You know, one minute I think I have him, I know I control him and then the next, there's blood everywhere and he's crying to me and what am I supposed to do? I just got to clean it up. I handle it. I'm the hyung."
And he was good at it. He looked at Yoongi and frowned. "Just like I'll handle this. I said if I was king for a day, I'd protect you."
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There were a lot of ways to do that. Not that any would change much.
"Can I have a hand free?"
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Shaking his head, he scanned through the music on this thing and then paused, pulling a face. "Why do girls these days wear Jordans when they could wear converse highs? I'll never get it." This girl on the album cover was pretty but no converse highs, no Namjoon.
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Just to get that thing in there one time. Yoongi paused for a moment at Namjoon's baffling questions, just staring at him in utter confusion. "What?" It was times like this, he could see how he was crazy. Well, and this entire situation, but mostly...
Never mind that Yoongi was wearing converse highs right now, they were good work shoes, but whatever. "That's the most stupid thing I've ever heard. Who cares about that? Just get shoes that are easy to take off."
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And then he blushed furiously and turned away.
"... I forgot guys wear them. Fuck off." Whatever. He wasn't hitting on Yoongi. "They're just hot. I got, uh, I got a thing for it. It's not a creepy sex thing but I just like them."
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This had to be the most specific fetish he'd ever heard about. "Weirdo."
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Shit, Jin in converse highs-- that was pretty hot. Not that Yoongi wasn't right now. He couldn't stop sharing at his shoes. "I wrote a song about converse highs... wanna hear it?"
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Whatever. "Sure. Show me your weird fetish song." Hey, he had to tease.
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So. There. He looked back at the phone and shook his head. "For being rude, you don't get to hear it. You can just forever wondered how cool my converse song was."
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Maybe Namjoon was trolling him. Although he seemed strangely sincere. "My type is stupid assholes, so you're right up my alley."
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He shrugged his shoulders and turned back to the music, laughing a little as he switched over to English. "On the plus side, I can appreciate music in so many languages. I was born to be a rapper, man. I got jams."
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"I prefer Korean." Also, his English sucked. Although of course he used some when rapping. He could do some. "Here we were such a good match and now I'm too dumb for you."
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And like that, Namjoon felt something snap. What was happening? He gulped hard and got up, trying to open a window so he could breath. "It's hot-- it feels hotter. Is it hot to you? I can't-- it's hard to breathe."
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And Namjoon fainted.
He wasn't out for long but he cracked his eyes open, groaning where he lay and looking ahead. Oh. Converse highs. "I have a song about those." Shit. He was on the floor. "Hyung, I fell."
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He just had to figure out how much he remembered. What had caused this? He needed to know if there was a pattern. "Can you show me the song?"
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