The Kim Family Tetralogy

10

'I am, objectively, the worst person in the world.' Jimin thought to himself the day he arrived in England.
He wanted to shrivel up and die.
Turn into goo and spill into the ground.
Disappear.
"Hey, son." his dad pulled him into a hug.
Jimin hadn't even noticed him coming up.
"Hi, dad." Jimin sighed.
"You look tired." his dad said, worried, holding him out to look at him.
"Yeah, it's been, intense." Jimin shrugged.
"I thought your boyfriend was coming with you?" his dad looked around the airport.
"No." Jimin said and turned away.
"Oh."
"Yeah." Jimin gasped. The pain was almost unbearable.
"Ok, well, Tania is making crumpets." his dad sought to comfort him, but Jimin had to supress a shiver.
He liked his bonus mom a lot, but she was a horrible, horrible, cook.
"What the eff is a crumpet?" Jimin muttered.
"It's like, a cross between a muffin and a pancake?" his dad tried to explain.
"Oh."
How bad could it be?

Bad.
Doughy, pale, flour, drenched in butter.
Suited his state of mind, though.
"You should go to bed." Tania suggested when Jimin had shuffled the last piece of crumpet around on his plate for the last twenty minutes.
"Huh?"
"Go to bed, son." his dad said softly, "You'll feel better in the morning."
"Yeah. Ok." Jimin started to get up, "If you don't mind?"
"Of course not." Tania assured him and gave him a quick squeeze.
She had no kids of her own, so she was very fond of him.
"Ok." Jimin yawned, he really was very tired, "So, goodnight?"

He felt like a wilted asparagus warming up the next day.
Or an emptied trashbag.
Still reeking, with its structural integrity corrupted by the nasty remnants of the discarded contents.
Everything hurt.
Especially his soul.
He wanted to hear Hobi's bubbly voice tell him to get over it and get to it.
Have Taehyung's soft presence wrap him in comfort, make him feel safe.
And he felt selfish for wanting that.
Using Tae as his security blanket.
Needing to feel Hobi's hard body against his own when he couldn't handle the, expectations.
'Cause he couldn't.
He felt like crying, thinking about it.
He wanted Hobi.
He just didn't want what they had.
And he didn't know how to, he sighed.
He was lost.
And he couldn't solve this problem, so, he sighed again.
He'd just dance.
For now.

His partner, Evy, was a flinty little woman, pale and gray.
Like flint.
He supressed a grin.
And she had the personality to match her apperance.
But man, could she dance!
Jimin felt he learnt more from this first practise, trying to keep up with her, than he'd learnt in his entire life, up until this point.
"Ok," the director/choreographer/company owner sighed, "obviously, we're gonna have to work on your," he waved his hand around, "unsyncronisation."
Jimin felt a stone drop into his guts, "I'm sorry." he apologised, "I only arrived yesterday, so I'm a bit jetlagged." he held a hand up, resting his hands on his thighs, doubled over, being a bit out of breath, honestly.
"No, no. We get it." the director smiled, ice in his eyes.
Jimin streached out his hips.
Evy was on the floor, massaging her right foot, Jimin had accidentially stepped on it when she was where she wasn't supposed to be.
"I think we should call it a day." the director said, "I don't want anybody to get hurt and you should rest up some more." he told Jimin, "'Cause it's gonna be great." he smiled, sincerely this time and patted Jimin on the back and hunched down beside Evy, "How's the foot?"
"It feels a bit wonky?" she shrugged, "But it'll be fine." she smiled.
"You should have Doc take a look, just to be safe." he patted her shoulder and stood up.
"Ok." Evy smiled up at him.
Jimin helped her up, "I'm sorry again, Evy." he apologised one more time.
"It's me who should be apologising." Evy nodded, "I was in the wrong place."
"Yeah, but still." Jimin shrugged.
"Apology accepted." she smiled, softening up her features, making them breathtaking suddenly.
"Thank you." Jimin gasped.

"Omg." Jimin staggered up the stairs to his father's townhouse, "Imma need to get my shit together!" he groaned, day three of these excrutiatingly hard repetitions.
"Oh, hi, Jimin!" Tania smiled as he entered.
"Hi, mom!" Jimin grinned.
"Jimin." she chuckled.
"I know!" he defended himself, "But I can't help myself!"
"You hungry?" she asked.
"Yeah." Jimin nodded, "But I have some sad news..." he pouted.
"What?" she asked, worried.
"I have a list from our dietist of what I can and cannot eat for the next six weeks." he sighed and rummaged around in his bag to get the paper out, "Apparently, I need more muscle." he pursed his lips.
"Oh." she laughed, "Well, let's see then!"
He handed her the list.
"Chicken." she read off the list, "Chicken." she nodded, "More chicken!" she exclaimed, "And oh, some broccoli!" she turned to him with a humorous look, "And brown rice that needs to boil for four hours!" she laughed.
"Yeah. I'm turning into Jungkook." Jimin snorted.
"Who?"
"The olympic," Jimin motioned.
"Right! Your friend!" she smiled and immediately stopped, "Or was he your boyfriend?" she wondered, scared she'd stepped in it right now.
"No." Jimin shook his head, "That was Hoseok, Hobi?" he felt tears form in his eyes.
"I'm sorry, darling." she used her thumb to softly wipe away a rouge tear, "I didn't mean to make you sad."
"It is what it is." Jimin shrugged, and looked away. It was mostly his fault anyway.
"Well, come on," she tugged on his shirt, "I'll boil you some chicken without any salt and what not." she moved towards the kitchen.
Jimin shook his head, snickering under his breath and followed her.

Jimin lost track of the days, he ate his chicken, worked out like mf, and danced 'til his feet bled.
One morning when he showed up for warm up, he found Evy, in her normal clothes, sobbing on one of the chairs in the room.
"Evy!" he ran to her, "What's wrong?" he kneeled infront of her.
She broke down and hugged him, almost strangling him, crying so hard she couldn't breathe.
"What's going on?" The director asked, hurrying over to them.
"I don't know?" Jimin's voice was strained.
"I have, I have, I have" Evy tried to tell them, "bone cancer!" she wailed and let go of Jimin, doubling over, cradling her own legs, "I have bone cancer," she rocked back and forth, "OMG, I HAVE BONE CANCER!" she screamed, "HELP ME!" Jimin picked her up and the director lead them into his office and closed the door and opened it again, "CALL AN AMBULANCE!" he hollered, and closed it again.
Jimin sat down with Evy in his lap, holding her, letting her trash and rock and cry, "I'm so sorry," he whispered, "I'm so sorry."
"I'M GONNA DIE!" she screamed and fought herself free from his hold and bolted for the door.
The director lunged for her and caught her in his arms, "It's ok Evy, it's gonna be ok." he soothed and kissed her on the side of the head, holding her tight.

She'd calmed down a bit when the paramedics showed up, but they took her with them just the same.
Jimin hadn't been able to move for the last half hour or so and just sat there, staring into nothing, not possesing enough, whatever, to process this right now.
The director collapsed on his chair, raking his hand over his face, looking up at the ceiling.
"Does she have any family?" Jimin found himself asking.
"Yeah," the director nodded, "a husband and a three-year-old. And a dog." he shrugged, huffing out a distraught laugh, "I should call him." he realised and sat up straight.
Jimin hoped he ment the husband and not the dog.
"What happens now?" Jimin wondered.
The director sighed, "Her understudy should be back tomorrow." he shrugged, "She had to go to a funeral in, Canada?" he tried to remember, "But she should be back tomorrow." he repeated, "And we'll take it from there?" he shrugged again, the show had to go on.
It was the harsh reality of this business.
"I think I'll just?" Jimin pointed over his shoulder with his thumb.
"Yeah." the director nodded, taking out his phone, looking through some papers, trying to find the right number.

He thought he was going to go home.
But instead he ended up dancing the entire piece on his own, crying like a little kid when he slumped down on the floor, completely spent after he made it through.
He had absolutely nothing to hold onto anymore.
Nothing.