V GETS REVENGE

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Taehyung POV:

"Dinner!" A voice called from downstairs. I glanced into the mirror that is positioned in front of my white sheeted bed. Blue bruises littered my arms like a rash. I knew if I pulled my shirt up, you could see the others that decorated my tan skin. I didn't even waste time making a sad face at the marks, I was far to used to the sight of them.

The ones who caused these marks of hurt were the people the media saw as my friends. The people who were supposed to care for me, be kind to me. Or at least not fucking hurt me whenever I was in their line of sight.

I debated on whether going downstairs was a good idea. I knew there wasn't anything for me, there never was.

Jin was seen as the motherly one. He took care of the other members whenever they were sick or tired, cooked for all of them and was overall a decent human being... To them.

When it came to me, all of those father-like qualities went down the drain. I could probably count on one hand the amount of times I'd eaten his cooking during the last three years I'd been living here. He never once bothered to check on me when I was sick let alone take care of me. To him I was just a bother, something he was forced to pretend to like for the company. He wasn't as bad as the others but he did throw the occasional punch or insult. Actually, the insults are pretty common from him.

I could hear Yoongi grumbling about Jin waking him up as he passed my door. Yoongi was a little bit like a light switch. He didn't always hurt me or do much of anything. He just kinda sat and watched everything happen. But if I went out of line, he became one of the worst if not the worst people I'd every had the displeasure of meeting.

He would hit so hard that he would sometimes fracture my ribs. He made insults so hurtful, I'm surprised I can still look at myself without crying. He was honestly just not a good person in general. I didn't really like him but then again, I didn't like any of them now.

There was a time when I truly did love them. They didn't care about me from the start but I loved them. They were my friends, my family.

They however, hated me from the beginning. I walked into the group being the seventh and final member to join. They each thought that they didn't need me. However, the managers thought that the group needed a lower voice which I could provide.

I was a naïve thing, hope filled my heart, almost bursting with the childish feeling. Hope that they would be kind and caring, hope that they would act like a second family .

I was wrong.

Hoseok was, and still is one of the meaner ones. It started with him yelling at me during dance practices then escalated to him hitting me and punching me repeatedly for no reason. I had gone to the hospital a lot because of him.

He was a ray of sunshine to the fans and the other members. His smile could light up a room, like an angel. I laughed bitterly to myself at that thought. He always called himself an angel but I knew what he was actually like. A heartless piece of shit that hurts me whenever he pleases.

A tiny part of me grimaced at my own comment, the part that still cared and loved them.

I shoved that part down, wanting it dead. I was in so much more pain when I cared. It hurt like a bitch knowing that they would never show the same compassion as I did. It physically hurt when they hit me, I could agree with that, but I can treat that with bandaids and medicine.

When my mind and heart hurts, there isn't a single thing I can do. I would gladly take physical pain over emotional pain any day.

I could smell the mouth watering flavour of meat through the space under my door. Namjoon's favourite food.