PJM- Listen

P r o l o g u e

"PARK JIMIN! PARK JIMIN!"

The crowd's deafening cheers drowned the sound of the opening music.

"PARK JIMIN! PARK JIMIN!" 

Strings of laser lights rained down on the audience, switching its vector onto the stage in colours of blue and green. Screams of marvel and excitement shook the concert hall, as a gaseous fog devoured the stage in a flood of white.
And just when the screaming had subsided, an explosion of colours pushed the audiences to the edges of their chairs. 

"PARK JIMIN! PARK JIMIN!"

The fog, the explosion, and the rays of lights gradually slipped away, like smoke dissolving into a starry midnight sky.

"PARK JIMIN! PARK JIMIN!"

All was dark, except for the stretch of miniature lights across the theater, resembling a gathering of fireflies in a warm summer's night. The audience clenched their Bangtan Bombs in anticipation, beads of sweat rolling down their foreheads like avalanches.

He had to be coming soon. 

Soon, their idol would be elevated onto the stage, singing the first notes of his new song, 'Monster', a hair-raising, heart-thumping fan-favourite. More screams would erupt, louder than before, and the backup dancers would rush to his side, ready to perform the routine that they had been endlessly training for.

But as the lights came on, and the fog slipped away, a round of confused murmuring began. Fans let out a gasp of horror, and fluro posters and headbands sparkled rather stupidly in the already brightly lit arena.

The stage before them was utterly and completely empty.

...

A stream of blood trickled along his arm, dribbling into a pool of crimson on the carpet. He lifted his fingers from the glass shard, and eyed the object in detail- from the blinding glare of the light it reflected, to the blood-stained finger-prints tattooed onto its surface.

Angry fists pounded on the door of his dressing room, in sync to the rhythm of his thunderous heartbeat. "OPEN THE DARN DOOR RIGHT THIS INSTANCE!" His legs toppled beneath him, as the walls of his dressing room squeezed inwards. "STUBBORN, IMPUDENT YOUNG FOOL!" The gruff voice made his hairs stand on their ends. "OPEN THE DOOR!"

Somewhere in the distance, he could hear the cries of exasperated fans. He could hear the murmurs of confusion, and the panicked voices of the stage crew, discussing what option they had left to entertain the audience.

Gulping, Jimin dragged himself to a ravaged mirror, smearing his stage costume in red. He used his bloodied hand to grip the edge of the object, and with the other, to run it over his chin, his perfectly made-up face, and his rough, ash coloured hair, which had been dyed over and over again for the same purpose: the sanity of nearly thirteen million global fans.

The cracks in the mirror severely distorted his image, and for the first time in his life, Park Jimin became a monster. Under layers of professional make-up, all he could see was a broken boy with soulless eyes, pale lips, and thin, ghostly skin.

Jimin anxiously buried his nails into the carpet, his heart pounding against his skull. He watched as the doorknob jerked forwards, before slowly rotating sideways, and finally, busting open to reveal a group of large, grave-looking men. 

What a sight it was, to watch the blood drain from their faces. His manager, especially, looked as if the light had left his eyes. "WHAT IN THE DEVIL HAVE YOU BEEN DO-"

The mirror was thrown into the wall, spitting fragments of glass upon its rugged landing.

The men stared at him in disbelief, their eyes flicking from Jimin to the bloodied cut on his arm. "You quit that right now-"

This time, a pot of flowers narrowly missed his manager, shattering into the wall in an eruption of glass, water, and petals. 

"...Does it still look good?" Jimin muttered under his breath. "DOES IT STILL LOOK GOOD?"

"What are you talking about-"

"ANSWER ME! DOES IT STILL LOOK GOOD?" He held the glass shard to his neck. "I'm Just an ornament....I'm just an object."

"PUT THAT THING DOWN!" His manager commanded in a shaky voice, dashing forward to grip his arm. "PUT THAT THING DOWN OR YOU'LL HURT YOURSELF!"

"Hurt myself?" Jimin forced a mirthless laugh. "But I can barely feel anything..."

"Don't you dare speak like that!" His manager spat. "Don't you dare. Ya hear me?"

Jimin replied with another laugh and glanced up at the terrified man. "Don't try to save me." He smiled, the youthful, once-cheeky creases reappearing under his eyes. 

And without shedding a single tear, he dropped to the ground, the shard of glass tumbling from his fingers, and soundlessly falling onto the carpet.

⭐ Please vote ⭐ Keep an eye out for the next update :)