DEAD WEIGHT||PJM||

𝟘𝟘𝟠. 𝕁𝕌𝕊𝕋 𝕆ℕ𝔼 ℙ𝔼ℝℂ𝔼ℕ𝕋

Since Yoongi had gone to the hospital, he hadn't been able to get a wink of sleep. The nightmares would torment him. Nightmares of a world that went on without him. He would see his friends continue to live happily but he was nowhere to be seen. Not in the family portraits they took, not when they spoke to each other and not when he would try to make them see him.

They all walked through him like he was a ghost. They never spoke of his name amongst each other. Like his whole existence, all the bonds they forged and the years they spent together meant nothing to them. He meant nothing.

During the night he would lay in bed. Hand pressed on his chest and he would listen to his weak heart as it struggled to sustain the life in his body.

He had been able to handle all the obstacles life had thrown at him. His parents, homelessness and addiction. But death was something that no human had ever been able to overcome. If he had money, his chances would significantly increase.

A one per cent chance is all I need.

He silently prayed to whoever was listening. That wasn't asking much from a life that took everything away from him. He just wanted to stop being on the losing side of the ring for once in his life. Life had already been dealing him blows until he was broken and battered.

He had become increasingly aware of his mortality. Death was about to come knocking at his door. His world which used to be a  kaleidoscope of colours, the green of the foliage beneath the trees in the forest, and the soft blue of the sky all gradually turned black and white.

Death had already made itself his companion. Like a dark shadow looming over his shoulder. He saw the shadow creep when he noticed the steps of the staircase in the hideout were too steep and slowed down when he walked over them, he saw the shadow when he noticed how fast Jin raced through the streets in the Mines and opted to take the rickety old bus to move around.

Even as he sat in the 'meeting room' which was the dining room. The wooden chair he always sat on had a creaking leg and he couldn't sit on it without imagining how his neck could just break if he fell. So he sat in Diamond's designated chair, ignoring the looks of confusion that his members gave him.

Namjoon had been going over the plans of their next raid from the other end of the table.

Whether he noticed that Yoongi was not paying attention or not he didn't mention it.

'Can we just sell the Ambrosia we find in Bugsy's stores instead of throwing it out?' Yoongi asked.

The five others who occupied the seats at the dining table all snapped their heads towards him in pure shock.

Ambrosia was the newest drug in the Mines that week. Word on the street was that anyone who took the gold pill became superhuman. Whether that was just an imagined side effect or not was debatable.

The Yoongi who sat with them on the table was a completely different person. The Yoongi that everyone knew hated drugs with every fibre in his being. He would speak about how disgusting they were. He was the one who even suggested that they throw out any drugs they found in the storehouses they raided.

'Who are you and what have you done to our Yoongi?'Hoseok poked fun after he recovered from the shock.

The others all responded with weak chuckles.

Namjoon placed the maps on the table and sat down at his seat at the head of the table.

'We do not involve ourselves with crime Yoongi, you of all people know that', He said in a stern tone.

Namjoon was referring to his plan which he shared with Yoongi who had been his first member. His plan was for all of them to make enough money to make it out of the Mines. He wanted them all to have normal lives in the Golden City once the gang split up. Which meant that their records had to be as clean as possible.