#(&solo.)

he struggles to get himself back on his feet, muscles weak and dizziness taking over in a way that still makes him stumble a few times before he can properly regain his balance, an arm wrapping tightly around his own middle as a futile attempt at stopping the bleeding. his surroundings are distorted and macabre and yoongi feels fear approaching him, wrapping its crooked hands around his throat and squeezing. it had been a while since yoongi felt scared of his surroundings, at least consciously so – it had been a while since yoongi allowed himself to acknowledge his feelings. but maybe, just maybe, he had always been scared; maybe, just maybe, he had never been as strong as he hoped he’d become.

the visage of his sister is still fresh and vivid in his mind and yoongi can still feel his chest ache, in a way that certainly had nothing to do with the fact that he had a sword pierce right through his middle. it’s messing his head because while he’s aware she wasn’t real, a part of him told him that didn’t matter; a part of him told him that at least he was seeing her again, his precious sister, his little sunshine, and yoongi should be thankful.

despite the things she said, despite her attempt at killing him – yoongi knew, deep down, that he would take any insult, he would take any wound, if only it meant that he could see her again. because he’s long stopped caring about himself or what happens to him, mainly because the sole reason that he still fights, the sole reason that he still gets up in the morning and goes on with his day, is because he knows she would have wanted him to do that.

he’s still shaking almost violently as he starts taking short, careful steps and he’s not sure if it’s from the pain or from crying but it’s most likely from both, all the emotions he had bottled up and hidden for a year now crashing onto him like a heavy boulder. his surroundings are sinister, creepy to say the least and yoongi turns quickly when he spots a flashing light in the corner of his eye, just to see nothing. he’s not sure if it’s from his dizziness or from this realm, but he was certain the ground and everything around him was moving, distorted, as if in constant change.

turning his head though he gasps loudly at the sudden sight of yoonhee standing there, throat slit, blood covering her face and clothes and big, doe eyes staring right at him. she’s gone the second he blinks though and yoongi is left breathing shakily and dealing with his heart beating so strongly he felt unwell, vision blurring once more as this all feels like a really bad, really mean prank and yoongi isn’t sure if he’s hallucinating at this point or if it’s all tricks from the realm, but he’s sure that he just wants everything to stop.

“you couldn’t save her or anyone from your team. why were you the one who made it out alive? why weren’t you the one who died instead?”

he turns quickly once more and the action only adds to his dizziness but there’s no one there, there’s nothing yet the voice sounds so close, so near.

“you should have been. you know that yourself. you know mom and dad wished you were the one to mysteriously disappear instead of yoonhee. that’s why they don’t talk to you anymore.”

yoongi closes his eyes tight and his breathing becomes quick and erratic, unable to tell anymore which pain was bigger; the one from his wound or the one from being accused of all the insecurities that keep him up at night. “please-“

“shy little yoongi turned cold. you try to protect yourself but you just hurt others that way. why are you so selfish? why are you such a coward?”

there’s an attempt at taking a step because yoongi has to get out of there, but his knees give in and he’s met with the ground right after, elbows and knees aching immediately from the impact. he coughs and droplets of blood fall near his hands, the sight far too familiar, flooding his mind with memories of yoonhee suffering the same fate and he wonders if that was the intention of her attack.

the worst sight though is when yoongi lifts his head again and this time he sees not only his sister but the rest of his past team too, all of them standing there with their bloody clothes and missing limbs and looking down at him with accusing gazes and this time yoongi screams, head lowering immediately and hands moving to cover his face. “no, no-“ he pleads and he’s not sure if he chokes on his sobs or blood but it might as well be both, body shaking uncontrollably, curling up as if attempting to just disappear. “please stop, please, please-“

“why are you so useless, min yoongi?”

there’s more than one voice now, indistinguishable yet sounding so real and yoongi’s eyes remain tightly shut, far too terrified to check in the hallucination of his dead team members was still there, too terrified to move at all. “please-“

“you know you’re not making any difference. you know you’re just wasting everyone’s time. then why are you still here?”

“stop, stop-“

“you’ve been so close so many times. why don’t you just pull the trigger?”

“yoongi!”

the new voice sounds definitely more human than any of those speaking to him until now and yoongi can still recognise, even in this panicked state of his, the voice to be taehyung’s. he doesn’t dare to look though, he doesn’t dare to check if it’s him or yet another trick from this realm because he’s far too overwhelmed, far too scared and far too weak.

“shit- shit, yoongi-“ he’s completely unaware of any movement around him by now and the moment he feels taehyung touch him he can only flinch and cry harder, fingers grasping at his own hair as he shakes his head quickly.

“don’t, don’t—“

“hey, it’s okay, i’m real, i won’t hurt you-“ taehyung sounds shaken up just the same and a small part of yoongi wants to check on him, wants to do what he’s best at and push his own feelings away to tend to the boy – but the bigger part of him is currently lost in his own fear and self-loathe, unable to properly listen to any words taehyung says to him.

“yoongi, you’re bleeding- fuck, c’mon, let me help-“ taehyung’s hand is on his back again, either as an attempt at soothing him or hold him to check on his wound, yoongi can’t tell, but the shorter doesn’t move an inch and the shaking won’t stop, the tears won’t stop, the fear won’t stop.

“yoongi, listen-“

but yoongi coughs again and a bigger amount of blood splatters onto the ground, grotesque and alarming, seemingly startling taehyung just the same because when he speaks again, his tone sounds more urgent.

“shit, shit, yoongi, calm down- fucking-“

and yoongi is suddenly calming down, but for all the wrong reasons because his body feels weaker, his head feels lighter and taehyung is starting to sound so, so distant.

“yoongi—? hey, hey, stay with me, fuck, yoongi, stay with me here-“

everything felt so overwhelming, and suddenly, it felt numb. suddenly yoongi felt like he was underwater, like everything was blurred out. his body is giving in and so is his mind and maybe it’s not such a bad thing. maybe this is how it’s supposed to be. maybe this is how it was supposed to be all along.

“yoongi—!”

a bright smile spreads on the girl’s lips, bright and youthful and beautiful as ever, just the way yoongi remembered. she has her magical girl outfit on, but there’s no blood splattered on it; her throat isn’t slit and she isn’t choking to death. she’s fine. she’s there.

“oppa! i’ve missed you, where have you been?” she whines, almost childishly so – of course, she is only twelve years old – but another smile is quick to form on her lips, never able to stay upset for too long. “you told me you were going to buy me cake after the big fight but you never did. did you forget?”

“i-“ the big fight. he couldn’t know for sure, but she was most likely referring to their last fight in the noose, the one that she most definitely did not come out alive from. yoongi had promised her cake before it, he does remember that. he does also now realise he broke that promise. “yoonhee-“ suddenly the chaos around him is gone and yoongi’s concentration is on the visage of his sister only, throat closing up and vision blurring out the features of her face.

she couldn’t be real. she couldn’t be there. she died in yoongi’s arms, choking in her own blood and tears, and yoongi had watched it all, powerless to help.

(“oh god, oh g-god-“ yoongi chokes out, tears falling from his cheeks and mixing with her blood as he held her with trembling hands, shaking almost violently. there’s blood, there’s so much blood, and more of it splatters onto yoongi’s clothes when she coughs. “you’re going to be okay- you’re going to- i’m here, i’m right here with you, yoonhee-“

“it hurts,” her voice is weak and hardly understandable, tear-filled eyes staring right up at her brother, pleading him with her gaze. “it hurts, yoongi-“

“i know,” yoongi can’t do more than just sob and hold her tighter in his arms because all he can say are lies, lies to soothe her, lies to ease her because she won’t survive, there’s no way she will survive. she coughs and chokes again and yoongi just cries harder, doubling over and holding her fragile body closer, as if trying to curl up around her. “i’m sorry, i’m so sorry, i love you, you’ll be okay, please don’t leave me, please-“)

“oppa?” there’s a glint of worry in yoonhee’s gaze as she walks closer to him, head tilted in all of that innocence that was so true to her, that innocence regarding the world that had been cruelly ripped from her the night she was slaughtered. “yoonnie, don’t be sad. why are you sad?” she looks genuinely sad herself and yoongi is only now realising how shaken up he must look, lips parting for a reply, but only a sob coming out as he does.

“why-“ he starts, fingers shaking as he brings them to cover his mouth, head shaking slowly. “why are you- yoonhee, g-god-“

“you’ve been sad a lot lately, haven’t you?” she asks then and the question comes a lot more serious than the way she had been approaching him, serene eyes watching him intently. it throws yoongi off, brows furrowing, thoughts running far too fast for him to catch up.

“what—“

“you’ve been sad a lot because you’re no good for your friends.” she continues, tone and expression remaining exactly the same. “so you distance yourself, but does that really work? who are you really protecting here?”

“i-“

“yoongi!” a third voice comes in, muffled and distant but yoongi knows it’s jongin’s and his heart skips a beat. still, he finds himself unable to tear his gaze away from his sister. “yoongi, she’s not real, don’t listen to her! you have to kill her, she’s not real!”

yoongi’s eyes widen even more in horror, the idea again making him nauseous. kill her.

“you know you make jongin sad but you keep doing it. why, oppa? you’re not the big brother i looked up to anymore. you were a coward back then, but not this way.”

“yoongi!” jongin sounded more distressed, but still distant; maybe he was currently fighting, maybe he was being held back. yoongi didn’t know. he couldn’t tear his gaze away. he couldn’t move. “i swear to god, min yoongi, if you get hurt-“

“you messed up with ricky too, didn’t you? the relation you have now.. is this what you wanted?” her brows furrow slightly and maybe, just maybe, there’s a hint of pity in her gaze. “bet he doesn’t think about you twice. but why would he? you weren’t good enough back then. you won’t be now, either.”

“yoonhee,” it’s a sob that falls from yoongi’s lips and his head lowers, both hands now pressing against his face, the rush of emotions going through his body right now making him too shocked to properly react. he knows she’s not real, he knows his yoonhee would never say such things; but this still looks like her, still sounds like her and how, how could yoongi ever attempt to harm her? “i’m sorry, i’m sorry i couldn’t save you, i’m sorry-“

“you’re scared you won’t  be able to save yooa too.” yoonhee’s voice is softer now, but the malice is still there. “you’re scared you won’t be able to save anyone. but yoongi, can you even save yourself?”

yoongi shakes his head almost furiously and all his walls are tumbling down, more sobs falling from his lips, vulnerable as the biggest weakness in his life is currently stomping him down like this. “i’m sorry, i’m sorry-“

“you should be,” her voice is almost a whisper now and yoongi hadn’t realised how close she actually was now, standing almost directly under his lowered head. yoongi apparently didn’t realise the way she was reaching for her magical weapon, either. “maybe if you had been good enough your friends wouldn’t hate you. maybe if you had been good enough mom and dad would still talk to you.”

“yoongi-!”

jongin’s scream is the only type of warning he has before he feels something pierce through him right above his stomach, spluttering and choking at the piercing pain. he falls to his knees, hands clutching at the wound, deep red coating the fabric and warming his hands.

“maybe if you had been good enough i wouldn’t be dead.”

it just didn’t feel right, it didn’t feel right at all that both seolhyun and baekhyun were leaving him there. the three of them had been together for as long as jongin could remember, growing up as a trio, and jongin didn’t understand why he was the only one staying when seolhyun and baekhyun had so, so much more potential than him. jongin usually wasn’t one to lack confidence in his skills, aware he was talented and aware he did a good job with his dancing, but right there, there was definitely a pang of guilt to his chest.

he didn’t feel like he deserved to be there anymore. 

there was nothing else in his mind but baekhyun after the episode ended and jongin honest to god hoped his team would understand, because he was certainly being rude by leaving them to run off and find baekhyun, but he just needed to be woth the boy. he knew baekhyun more than he probably knew himself; he knew baekhyun was going to do that thing of his where he pretends everything is alright when it’s not. and jongin wasn’t going to let him do that. baekhyun had every right to feel upset and wronged and jongin wished to be there to offer as much support as he only could.

“baekhyun—” the first thing he does upon spotting the familiar blondish, pink hair is to pull the shorter in his arms, securing him in a gentle, comforting embrace. everyone else could wait, everything could be put on the line; but right now, jongin needed to do this. “i’m sorry. i’m sorry,” he mutters, and he’s not sure if he’s apologising for the fact that baekhyun was being sent home or for the fact that it hadn’t been jongin instead, but the words were falling from his lips before he could think them through.

“don’t let this bring you down.” his lips press to the top of baekhyun’s hair and he knows this is a silly request, he knows baekhyun will say it’s alright but will think about it later and jongin hates the thought of it. he doesn’t want baekhyun doubting his talents because of a silly show, not when his voice has to be jongin’s favourite sound in the world. “you did wonderful, you always do. you’ll have more chances to show the world your talent, you know?” he pulls back just to look down at the shorter, offering a small, reassuring smile. “they’re gonna regret sending you home when you become the next beyoncé.” a huffed laugh escapes his lips as an attempt to light up the mood but the smile falls off his lips as quickly as it appeared and he just pulls baekhyun in his embrace again, sighing. “you’re still my favourite singer. you’ll always be.” he whispers then, quieter, as if a secret for only baekhyun to hear.

“ah, i was told to talk about myself, but i don’t know what to say..” he mutters under his breath, smile remaining on his lips as he looks around, free hand moving to scratch the top of his head before proceeding to smooth down his hair. “i’ve been dancing since i was four, so that’s a lot of dancing, i guess. that’s..” he stops and looks up as he does counting motions with his fingers, before flashing a grin up at the camera again. “that’s about sixteen years of dancing, more or less.” he announces, looking quite proud of his discovery for a moment there as he carries on walking.

“i’m lucky to have a very supportive family. it’s a pretty big family, too. i have five older sisters.” he opens his palm to show all five fingers, wiggling them a bit with another smile. “three are half-sisters, though, but it still counts, right? i’m the youngest, so i was always their dressing up victim, too..” he carries on, unconsciously showing his habit of trailing off during sentences, too. “um, i’m very passionate about dancing, so i don’t really think i struggle.. oh-“ his brows raise suddenly and a smile spreads on his lips, quickly looking up at the camera before looking to his left again, both hands holding the camera now as he maneuvers it. “that’s a really cute dog.” he comments, showing a little ball of fur ahead that looked very content sniffling the grass, apparently unaware it was being recorded to show up in an interview that had nothing to do with it in the first place.

“ah, it’s really cute.” jongin’s voice is still heard behind the camera before he apparently remembers he was only given two minutes for this self-interview and he was wasting it on recording a random puppy, a softer ‘oh’ heard from him as the camera shakes until jongin’s face is back in the picture, a bit of a sheepish smile to his expression now. “i really like dogs.” he justifies, short laugh spilling from his lips again as he shrugs his shoulders again. “i think.. that’s about everything there is to say?” he questions slowly, brows furrowing a little in uncertainty though the smile remains. “please look forwards to seeing me at the mga’s. i’ll do my best.” he smiles brighter now, bowing his head a little again before waving his hand a little. “goodbye!”

the request to showcase another skill that wasn’t their strongest came as a surprise for jongin could not recall whether or not they had been warned of this, and if there was a moment he actually felt nervous, it had to be this. the majority of his confidence falls on the dancing category, not to mention it’s been his main focus throughout his entire life, thus he is not too sure about anything not related to that. rapping is out of question – god knows he cannot rap to save his life, slurring his words too much and stumbling over the first few verses -, but jongin can sing.

it’s not a trained voice. he’s never had classes of any sorts, his only practices being in the safety of his room or with the shower head as his audience, but he is aware his voice is one that holds potential for improvement if only he invested in it enough. he’s not sure how impressive it might be, but he hopes that if anything, the judges might see some form of potential in him instead.

the process that follows upon hearing his name is similar if not almost identical to how it was with the first audition; he walks to the centre, bows and briefly introduces himself. “this time i will sing youth by troye sivan.” after all, it’s his favourite singer whose songs fit jongin’s voice and vocal range the best, in his own opinion.

either way, that would be up for the judge’s to decide. it was time to take another short, deep breath, and start.

“what if, what if we run away what if, what if we left today what if we said goodbye to safe and sound what if, what if we're hard to find what if, what if we lost our minds what if we let them fall behind, and they're never found” he presses his hand to his stomach, slightly, softly, a way to secure his voice and reassure himself as his voice goes higher just a notch, just enough for it to be another tone but keep that calm, gentle timbre of his.

“and when the lights start flashing like a photo booth and the stars exploding we'll be fireproof my youth, my youth is yours trippin' on skies, sippin' waterfalls my youth, my youth is yours run away now and forevermore my youth, my youth is yours the truth so loud you can't ignore my youth, my youth, my youth my youth is yours”

the chorus ends and with it so does his one minute and jongin finally dares to open his eyes and look back at the judges. anxiety left him with that last note and jongin feels reassured he at least did a good job, his voice not cracking once and giving away his nervousness, and he inwardly pats himself on the back. his english might not be the very best but it’s understandable and coherent and he’s proud, enough to make him feel at ease, regardless of the results.