Still With You [A Jikook Fanfiction ©️ Book 2]

Chapter Twenty Eight: The Story Of Lee Ji-Seok Pt 2

Disclaimer: Mentions of eating disorder and descriptions of vivid panic attack at the end.

NB: Writing the panic attack was a little nerving for me as I drew the description from remembering some of my worst episodes, so I might edit it later if people find it too distressing.

As you lovelies have kindly told me, I'll reciprocate the love and say: My messages are open always 💚
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Everything around him seemed muffled. As if he was trapped within a self-inflicted bubble and everything else had been drowned out in favour of his focus on the aching pain. Those around him assumed the younger was simply tired, lying face down on the floor in the studio out of exhaustion rather than, in fact, a mixture of four things. Firstly, he guessed he was a little tired. Tour life, promotions and his affair took a lot out of his sleep schedule. Secondly, he had been practicing far too hard. Every inch of his body ached from the extent of his dancing, the effort of his singing.

Then came the reasons he had hidden from BTS. His 'relationship' of sorts with Ji-Seok had progressed to a level far from Jimin's initial, innocent explorations. They tapped into and tried out ideas that, while pleasurable during, often in the aftermath made the young singer feel uncomfortable and once or twice, regretful. What he enjoyed still outweighed what he didn't, but there were still significant changes he was growing distressed about. Ji-Seok maintaining control and dictating what they did, rarely bothered him - as Jimin knew, he himself was inexperienced.

But the intensity of their behaviours was growing a little unconfortable.

*

"I don't necessarily mean our sexual activity." Jimin admitted, growing increasingly more comfortable as speaking the more he confessed, "Sometimes his grip might be a little too rough, or where we'd hide might not be the most ideal place and make the experience a little uncomfortable. We grew more careless, he grew more needy." he huffed, hugging his knees to his chest, "I'm surprised no one noticed at least something. Seokjin and Namjoon almost walked in on us once, PD-nim you actually did walk in when we were in the studio," He let out a nervous chuckle, "I don't think I've ever run so fast in my life at the sound of your voice." Bang PD didn't quite share the same flicker of amusement Park Jimin found in retelling the story. What he did share, was the anger resonating around the other occupants of the room.

*
The fourth and final reason for Jimin's state, was his mental health. He'd been growing increasingly conscious of his body appearance, what the media said of him. He knew the fans adored his 'mochi-like' facial features, his baby-ish fat still very much apparent. But he didn't. He found his inability to look mature and strong in comparison to the other members sickening. It made him cringe at every photo, made him embarrassed at every fanmeet and he knew he'd begun clutching to the small falsifications of reality that their stage make-up sometimes gave him.

And Ji-Seok didn't help this. He kept describing all these styles that would fit 'your baby-ish features Jimin-shii' or refuse to drop the nickname 'little one' or 'My baby Jimin' that outright threw his failures harshly into his face everytime they met up. He got the point. Jimin grumbled, hauling himself to his feet. He was fat and everyone thought it was perfectly fine to bully him because of it. He hadn't ignored where he aways stood in the beauty ratings of BTS. Jungkook was always one he could go to if he wanted the truth and Jimin knew his teasing game of placing the dancer last was simply his genuine thoughts.

*

"Jimin, Jungkook would never have thought-"
"-I know hyung. But I thought it at the time."

*
A set of raised eyebrows beckoned the younger to the edge of the dance studio. As he reluctantly obliged, Ji-Seok brandished a file at him, their shoulders brushing as the two pretended to look through some stylistic logistics, "Ji-Seok what the fuck we agreed no suspicious interactions like this in front of the others." Jimin murmured, scowling at the paper deeply.
"I wanted to tell you that I'm leaving tomorrow." Jimin looked up in momentary shock, initially disbelieved that the stylist hadn't bothered to give him any further warning. But then his expression softened into a blank, emotionless slate and he sighed. He really wasn't surprised he hadn't been told.

"Where to?"
"I got offered a job as lead stylist for a bigger group. Thought I'd jump ship while BTS were still around."
Jimin scowled, "Your expectations for my group are truly charming Ji-Seok. But whatever. Sad to see you go, now I'm going back to rehea-"

His retreat was stopped by a hand grasping the back of his hoodie. Anxious he didn't want to make a scene, the younger turned back and sighed in irritation, "9pm. Here-"
"-Ji-Seok I can't, we were up so late yesterday and I'm shattered from practice..."
"But I'm leaving tomorrow morning. We don't have any other time."
A nervous feeling crept into Jimin's stomach, "Do we even need to-?"
"-Come on little one, you won't even say goodbye?" Jimin fell silent, looking at the floor as he wracked his brains to a suitable response. A hand reached up and patted his cheek, "That's my little one. See you at 9pm."

**
As his story faded to its end, the silence around the office was painstakingly deafening. As each silent moment grew harsher, Jimin found himself crawling further and further into himself, curling up against Taehyung timidly at each angered expression. Did they think he was disgusting? Did they hate him? Was Bang PD going to kick him out in fear of a scandal? These thoughts flooded around his head with each moment passed with no word spoken by a single occupant of the room.

Jimin wasn't sure when the world around him narrowed, nor when he slid from Taehyung's hold and painfully hit the floor in a heap. His hands were clammy, his breath heavy - was his chest supposed to hurt like this? It was excruciating... Unbearable... As if he was-
As if he was dying.
He had not known the sob that reverberated around the room had originated from his throat until the first, breathless gasps of air began flushing across his trembling lips.

Letting his head fall to the varnished floors, he curled his knees tightly to his chest, ignorant of any of the muffled activity around him. Fingers embedded themselves between his shirt material, clenching and un clenching as each wave of pain cascaded through his body. He let another sob slip through his lips.

"Jimin... Breathe, listen to my voice." He could hear the soft tones of Seokjin's concerned mutters but it was as if his brain refused to extract any sort of meaning from the words. A hand reached towards him, most likely to initiate a well meaning hug, but the blurred movement threw his focus and he jolted, doing everything he could to scramble from the situation.

"No..." he muttered, grasping the front of his shirt material as each heave for breath became more difficult, "No... No I-I need-I need help-" but despite his call for aid, his body kept instinctively jolting away at every touch of comfort. "No...!" he wept, letting the final sound of the word morph into a distressed scream, flailing as a pair of arms finally wrapped themselves around him, trapping the younger in a tight embrace and refusing to let go. Even when his fist met the side of his opponent's face from his squirming movements, the arms did little but waver momentarily.

"T-Tae-Taeh-"
A hand grasped the fingers still bundled into his shirt, "I'm here baby, just breathe-" Taehyung jolted as Jimin grasped Taehyung's shoulders and hauled him into a tight hug, earning a muffled grunt from whichever member was still holding him firmly, "Baby I need you to breathe for me..."
"It hurts T-Tae-please make it stop..."
Tae's heart plummeted, "I-I know it does Jiminie, but can you breathe for me-"
"-Make it stop!" he howled, curling further into the frame of the hyung still clutching him. To his surprise, this hyung seemed to be trembling in his attempt to repress pitiful tears, finding it more difficult with each scream from his little brother.

"Make it stop!"