(apocalypse+dance+party)
part of the
pairing: dancer!Jimin x dancer!female reader
genre: S2L2?, apocalypse!AU
warnings: mention of family members de@th, de@d bodies (non graphic), open end?
word count: 779
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As the song "Idol" comes to an end, Jimin is panting heavily beside his dance crew, all sitting in formation for the final pose. The audience at the regionals is going wild, even those who came for other groups are now standing, overwhelmed by their performance.
They've been preparing for this for weeks and months, practicing nearly every day so their movements would be perfectly synchronised down to the last finger.
You're in the front row, clapping and cheering as excitedly as the rest of the dance crew not on stage. After injuring your ankle two weeks ago, you couldn't dance with them. Your spot was taken by Namjoon, who initially had a family function and wouldn't have made it on time. Coincidentally, the day you injured your leg, the family member passed away. Tragic but beneficial for your dance crew nonetheless.
Jimin and your eyes meet briefly. Blushing, you shyly look away. Jimin only grins, high on the performance. He's confident they've won first place and will be going to nationals in a few weeks.
Later that night, he finds himself at a house party on a couch beside you, celebrating the win organised by one of the trainers. You caught his eye from the beginning when you first joined the crew, but both of you were always too shy to really talk much.
After finally mustering the courage to approach you on the couch, he was relieved to find you were into him all this time as well. Now the conversation can't seem to stop.
Just as you lean into each other, the cheering around you abruptly turns into panicked screams from the back of the dance floor. Chaos ensues shortly after.
Jimin shakes his head, ridding himself of the recent best and worst memories of his life.
It's been nearly half a year since something—no one really knows what it actually was, only going be the name 'Those'—took over every crevice of the earth. All of humanity now in hiding, fighting, and surviving somehow.
It took a month for Jimin to be the only one left from his family, another two months to lose contact with his friends. He's now survived three months on his own, hiding by day and night, eating what he can find.
Jimin is again forced to search the empty streets for food. He overslept during the day, his tired body unable to stay awake any longer. It's already dark, and the area is uncomfortably quiet. He's rummaging through the trash can of a former corner market, even though there's almost no chance of finding anything edible at this point.
Jimin startles violently, pushing himself up from the trash can and looking in the direction of a loud rattle some streets away.
"That's not good. That's absolutely in no way good," he thinks to himself, not daring to make another noise or even breathe properly.
After another loud rattle, Jimin springs into action. Having heard enough, he runs down the empty street with all the energy he can muster. His loud footsteps, like clockwork, echo around the tall skyscrapers. He jumps over broken glass, trash, and dead bodies lying in his way. The sight no longer twists his guts as it used to.
Besides his heavy breathing and his footsteps, he can't hear anything else, but he knows there's something trailing him. He knows that if he stops now, 'Those' will catch him.
Panic boils in his blood, making him sweat heavily. Sweat trickles down his neck, and tears threaten to fall, but he pushes through.
With the remaining energy he has left, he ducks into a nearby building, a furniture shop he remembers from years back. Its front doors are broken, making it his only possible chance to survive.
He keeps running up the broken escalator and dives under a table further in the back.
With shaking hands, he clamps his eyes shut, trying hard to regulate his breathing and hoping that whatever's on his tail doesn't find him.
After minutes of silence, Jimin removes his hands. Thinking the worst is over for the night, he lets out a sigh.
As something pulls him violently away, cold hands clamped over his mouth to muffle his scream, he wishes he had just kept running.
He's dragged into a nearby staff room, all his kicking and attempts to break free in vain.
As the door shuts behind him, he's let go.
Jimin pushes his back against the door, slowly turning his gaze upward. He wants to face his inevitable fate with his head held high, come what may.
Your name leaves Jimin's lips in a shocked whisper, his tears slowly drying.
YOU ARE READING
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