letters | ksj ✓

01

Jin can't breathe.

He stares at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. His eyes trace the length of his shoulders, the shape of his face, the definition in his muscles, studying the lines and colors and all the blemishes and marks.

He contemplates what worth is measured in and how his would compare to the other members. He's easily the worst singer out of all the vocalists in the group (there's no competition, not with Jimin's tenor, Jungkook's skill, and Taehyung's range) and the worst dancer by far.

Staring at the shape of his body, he wonders why he's the visual. While he's the official occupant of the position, it should really be someone else – Taehyung or Jungkook, probably – because all he is is ugly and worthless and untalented and undeserving and a waste of space and –

Pain sparks in his fingers, grounding him, and he blinks. His vision refocuses.

Shit, what have I done, he thinks, staring at the broken mirror. Blood is running through the dark cracks, pooling on the granite countertop of the sink, and Jin pulls his fist away from the mirror. A choked sob escapes his lips when the cold air hits his fingers but does nothing to stop the bleeding.

He's fucked up.

"Hyung?" comes Yoongi's voice from outside the door. "Are you okay in there?"

"Yeah, I'm – I'm fine," he tries to lie, but the stuttering gives him away and Yoongi curses.

"Hope you're decent," he says. "I'm coming in there."

Before Jin can protest, the door's being pushed open and Yoongi stands on the other side, staring at him. Jin's breathing picks back up at the look of shock on the younger's face, but he forces himself to calm down. He doesn't need to give Yoongi another reason to worry.

"Okay," Yoongi says with a forced calmness in his voice, "what the fuck happened?"

"I – " Jin can't talk all of a sudden. "Nothing happened."

Yoongi eyes the mess of glass and blood. "Don't lie to me, Jin-hyung."

"I'm not – "

"Namjoon, get in here!" the rapper yells, cutting Jin off.

"No – don't – " Jin starts to protest, but it's too late; Namjoon is already running into the room.

"What? What happened?" he asks. He turns to look at Jin and pales. "Hyung, don't move," he says sternly, giving a pointed glance at the glass on the floor and leaving to get something to clean it up.

Jin's vision is blurring with tears he's trying his best to blink back. "Guys, stop, I – I'm fine, please don't – "

Then the others are rushing in, demanding for Yoongi to explain what's going on, and Namjoon is back and sweeping away the glass, and Jin suddenly feels so bad for making a mess that the others are having to clean up and being such an idiot and not being able to control his emotions –

"Hyung," Taehyung says, putting a large hand on his arm, "please calm down, okay? None of us are mad at you."

Jin shakes his head, trying to force his lungs to work. "I'm sorry, guys, I'm so sorry – "

"Don't be sorry." Jungkook picks up his bloody fist and examines the torn skin. His touch is gentle, as if he's afraid Jin's going to break, and Jin realizes with a start that only the maknae line is still in the room; the others have left, probably to discuss his mental state or something of the like. The thought is bitter in his head.

Jimin's voice is soft as he adds, "It's not your fault," and Jin's knees give out because he knows that it is his fault and as he breaks into gasping sobs the three immediately reach out to keep him from falling over.

Jimin's started crying too, pulling Jin into a tight embrace, and Jungkook strokes the elder's dark hair lightly. Taehyung turns and frowns at the mirror, as if it's the one at fault.

"Why?" he whispers, and he doesn't have to specify what he's asking.

Jin shuts his eyes and breathes. "I don't know."

The three accept his answer for what it is, because while he really doesn't know, Jimin – the one who Jin himself had helped through his insecurity and body image issues – does.

He clutches Jin a little tighter.

None of them know what to say as their normally cheerful and bright friend's barriers break down, but none of them need to say anything. There's no need for words, not as they stand huddled together in the bathroom that reeks slightly of blood, not as Hoseok comes in to bandage up Jin's hand, not even when Yoongi returns at some ungodly hour and makes them let go of Jin and go to bed.

Jin doesn't mind the silence, because being with the kind, caring boys that surround him makes him feel the furthest thing from lonely.

That night, Yoongi's more withdrawn than he usually is, which would say a lot if Jin isn't just as quiet. The two of them lay in their beds, feigning sleep, but they can both see through the other's pretense.

The older of the two curls up in his bed, trying to disappear under his blanket, and the other lays in silence, thinking. Finally, at well past 2 in the morning, the silence is broken.

"How long?" Yoongi asks, his voice cracking. There's so much bundled up in that one question, but Jin understands.

He sighs. There's no use lying, not anymore, and he's sick of having to hide his truths, so he doesn't.

"Since the beginning," he says defeatedly. "I'm sorry."

Yoongi shuts his eyes and refuses to cry.