The Missing Piece

Chapter 29

There were a small number of them gathered in the living room. They weren't really doing anything or even trying to spend time together, but they'd each become too low just hanging about in their own rooms so some had ventured out to try and find something worth eating, or someone worth talking to.

Namjoon, Seokjin, Jimin and Yoongi were lounging across their designated sofas. They had the TV on but none of them were watching, all four were scrolling inadvertently through their phones, not really noticing the tweets or Instagrams that went by.

The other three had gone out, somewhere south of the river to make a scheduled appearance in some of the sponsor paid clothing they were supposed to be frequently modelling out and about. It was one of the few things the studio was asking them to do at the moment. It was one of the few things they were capable of doing. None of them knew this, but an emergency meeting had been arranged for that week between the board at HYBE to discuss the rapidly devolving 'BTS situation'. While that went on, most of them were housebound and the others should be on their way back by now.

It must have been nice for some of them to get out of the house. The rest of them were suffering for staying. Namjoon particularly had become unbearable. When he and Seokjin had fought earlier in the week, he'd stormed out without explanation and had returned a few hours later in a much better mood, but without telling anyone where he'd been or what he'd done. Since then he'd been checking his phone every few minutes, kept glancing anxiously at the door, and since this morning had been calling someone, though the others didn't know who. Persuaded out of his room by Yoongi he sat with the others, trying not to fret.

Namjoon could hardly remember now what Narae had said to him or why it had made so much sense at the time. All he knew was he'd felt better, being close to her for the first time in weeks. And he'd believed her when she said she'd help them. Away from her now, he was angry again, angry at her for bewitching him and then leaving him no better off. It had been days and she hadn't fixed anything. How long did it take to pack up a flat? Didn't she care? Why was she keeping them waiting when she knew they were hurting? He'd go and find her himself if he hadn't heard by the morning.

"Joon-ah. Please, try to settle." Yoongi urged him, laying a hand against his knee. The comfort it gave Namjoon was only momentarily helpful, but it didn't take away from his constant state of nervousness. Still he nodded, knowing he wouldn't improve his or Yoongi's night by fretting. As soon as he returned to his stagnant state on the sofa, he wanted to start fidgeting again. Something deep within him was restless.

Then Jimin stood up. but something about the way he stood up startled both Namjoon and Yoongi who instinctively pushed back into the sofa, frightened. He'd been too quick, too abrupt. Like he'd been shot.

"Ahh. Ahhhhgg." Jimin moaned, clutching the sides of his head. Bending over, obviously in some kind of agony.

"Jimin!" Seokjin shouted, springing up by his mate and grasping the younger man's hands. "What is it?"

"AAAHHHHHHH." Jimin keened, falling to the floor before Seokjin could catch him. Indeed, Seokjin couldn't catch him, couldn't do anything because then he was clutching at his own body. His head his heart, his sides, trying to keep something in, something close to him that was leeching away.

Namjoon and Yoongi sprang up. The sight was disturbing, and they were both on their knees in front of the moaning, swearing, crying men in a moment.

"What is it Hyung? What's wrong." Namjoon cried, careful even now not to touch Seokjin but reaching out for him. They looked like they were both having aneurisms, like if they didn't contain their heads, they might explode from pressure.

"Something's wrong. Narae. Something's wrong." Jimin whined, pawing at his own face in agitated desperation.

Maybe the name roused him, but suddenly Seokjin was back on his feet. He started stumbling blinding around, as though he was trying to find something.