Cross-Dimensional || BTS

I

<This Isn't Real>

»——•——«

Jeongguk woke up with a terrible headache.

He shouldn't have eaten the ice cream last night. It was premium made too. He only knew that because his mother wouldn't stop blabbering about it. If she only caught a whiff of what he did, well... Jeongguk may need to find himself a God.

The sunlight glared through the thin curtains of the room, blinding him. He groaned, covering his face with a pillow. How, just how, was it so goddamn bright. Brighter than his future.

He felt a shift near him. Suddenly, a warm hand draped across his chest and my boy's eyes cracked open as if someone just shot him.

The boy jumped, startled at the sudden appendage that dares to lay on his torso. He observed, with horror, the tanned, muscular arm that seemed to cocoon him in an embrace. He treated it as one would treat a mosquito that landed on his testicle. With care and grace.

His now fully awakened mind was racing with thoughts, trying to recall every byte of memory from the day before, figure out what the actual fuck was going on. Yet somehow, all his searches were in vain.

At least his clothes were still on, thank fuck for that.

Next, he noticed that the room he and this stranger-whose face was squashed under a pile of pillows, courtesy of Jeongguk- were currently sharing, was in fact, not his own.

He was so terribly screwed.

Fantastically, if I may say so myself.

Covering the room, in what could only be described as expensive shit. From the wide flat screen right opposite him to the incredible view of Seoul from the windows. Windows that stretched across the flat, bathing the whole room in sunlight.

This must be the stranger's room, he thought to himself. A high school student can't afford this, and neither can his parents. The realization finally kicked in, when he saw the imposing structures of skyscrapers, standing defiantly high. Had they built it any higher, the skyline would touch the clouds. It didn't take a genius to figure out he was wedged in the city, not in Busan; stuck in some Rambo's apartment- on a school day.

That was when he started to panic because you don't end up a four-hour drive away from home at random. And what was even worse, was that he couldn't recall how he got here in the first case. He vividly remembered going to bed, in his room, at his house.

The first case scenario that came to his mind was that he'd been kidnapped.

Jeongguk didn't waste any time.

A scream echoed across the lavish apartment, waking everyone.

»——•——«

This was the best sleep Taehyung had in a long time. 

Sure, he's said that probably around, two hundred times(and counting), but this time he really, really meant it. Still, waking up to screaming was the last thing he expected.

Adrenaline flooded his veins, as the man rose from his bed. Like a drunken dog, Taehyung missed his footing and flopped to the ground. A loud thud rattling the nightstand beside him. And upon seeing the squishy cheeks of a boy he's never met, terrified at god-knows-what, screaming. 

Actually, It sounded like he was screaming at him. 

But he never did anything to him!

"Would you shut up already!" Taehyung yelled over the other's voice as he hurled a pillow over. 

"WHO ARE YOU?" The boy shouted.

"Who are you?" Taehyung asked pointedly.

"WHERE AM I?"

"Huh... oh- I don't know either-"

"YOU KIDNAPPED ME, YOU BASTARD!" 

"I DIDN'T!" Taehyung yelled back, as multiple voices(that he didn't recognize) filled the place with noise. 

His companion looked at him like he grew two heads in their short stay together. But Taehyung could assure himself that he was no kidnapper. He was hardly kidnapper material. That doesn't make any sense, seemed to be the line of thought that the boy was travelling on, and yeah, he will admit it sounded stupid.

 "So... you... you didn't kidnap me?" 

"Nope. I don't even know where we are."

"We're in Seoul."

"That's pretty obvious, Sherlock." Taehyung rose from his position on the ground, stretching his limbs. He ignored the jittery boy cowering by the windows; opting to admire the room they were currently in. There was chaos outside, that much he could gather from the screams and raging beyond the door.

True, he should be panicking. Taehyung should've been scared shitless. He should've reacted just like the stranger. But... he couldn't. He found himself intrigued by the whole situation instead. Taehyung had only seen fancy apartments on TV. He's never sleep in such a comfortable bed before, and he certainly never seen such a view before.

He would admit he was just a simpleton, and probably too optimistic. His mother had always told him such, but he couldn't help it. This doesn't just happen every day, so why not take advantage of it? It may not be the ideal thought process to keep, but he's still alive and kicking.

Their short discord was quickly broken by the room door swinging open. In stepped a short man with eyes that never knew sleep, and a deep scar across his right cheek. He pointed one of the sharpest kitchen knives Taehyung had ever seen, and grunted out, with a voice that you could only get from smoking twelve-packs of cigarettes every day,

"Get the fuck outta this room." 

Alas, Taehyung became terrified. The reality of his situation began to sink in as the man ushered him, and his roommate, out quietly. 

»——•——«

AUTHOR'S NOTE

This work is a group project that was initially founded with Ivy's grand idea of a storyline, that I've decided to adopt on my own. There is no telling if others will join, however, the option to join this endeavour is available, and I look forward to more participants. Do not fret, though, since you don't have to do this if you do not want to. I am simply doing this myself because I want to practice my writing- and I genuinely think Ivy's idea is good(great, even).

Let's see how far this story will reach, shall we?