Hidden 8th | BTS

Stage 51

Everyone seems to have forgotten that there are two flowers in the Smeraldo story.

The one that got to be in public and the other that was left to rot away.

Maybe it goes to show how insignificant little details are.

--

"There! All done!" you said cheerfully as you put down the glue gun onto the floor while looking at the fixed tiny Jwi you had made.

Even though the cracks were still evident on it, it was still a job well done. You then proceed to carefully hold Jwi up and placed it into your chest pocket.

With a few little light pats on it to make sure it was secure, you then pushed yourself against the wall and slowly started to stand up.

You had to start walking again, you just had too. You had already been lazing around long enough.

Despite the recent scandal, comeback was near and you dreaded the thought of you just sitting on stage while everyone would be dancing.

Honestly, you rather be left out.

It has been weeks since you last practiced and you could feel the memory and feeling of all the hard work you had put into dancing was slowly fading away.

You couldn't afford to burden everyone again.

You are a member of BTS. One of the most popular K-pop groups out there, you couldn't afford to show everyone just how weak you are.

You force your foot to move despite feeling like multiple stabs were being pierced through you. The force made your whole body shake in response, sweat was dripping down your forehead despite it being winter and you felt like you were stepping on broken glass with each step you took.

And eventually, your legs buckled and you felt yourself slump down onto the wooden floor once more.

You looked back at where you had once stood, it was a good 2 steps away.

Before you knew it, your arms were already slapping your legs red.

You didn't even notice the hot steamy tears coming out.

There was no way you could dance like this, much less even walk on stage.

You wiped your tears away with your sleeve and looked up at where you were in the room. It was surprising how you didn't even realize that you were right in front of your cupboard.

With heavy breaths and sniffles, you pulled opened the drawer harshly and pushed all the things aside as your hand immediately went towards the back corner of the box.

You grabbed hold of the bottle and pulled it closer to your face but your hands had been shaking and had a tight grip on the bottle.

'Y/N, don't be consumed.' The label on it had stated that was written by Supreme Boi.

Shut the fuck up.

If possible, your grip on the bottle tighten even further.

"THIS IS FUCKING USELESS!" You roared out as you used all your remaining strength in your arms to throw the bottle across the room, making it hit another wall opposite of you.

What was the point of having that bottle? If anything if any of the members find out that you had it, they would put you on lock down.

Worst, they would look at you like you betrayed them.

Everyone had said you could tell them any problems you were facing.

But they already had problems of their own, you didn't need to burden them further.

And besides, you didn't want to hear any cliche comforting words coming out from their mouth.

They were all empty respondents.

Then block them out again.

No, we are not going down that path again.

Then what do you suggest we do? I mean you're pretty much useless right now, and even more so as time passes.

Wouldn't it be better for me to stay once more?

Don't you think so?

You chuckled.

No.

That wasn't the other you that chuckled.

That was the actual you.

Because maybe you were done with being weak.

Maybe you were done with being cared on.

Maybe you got fed up on being so messed up with mountains of problems to galore.

Maybe you were losing your sanity.

Or maybe you were just done with all this bullshit that was going on with your life.

"Who caused this...?" you spoke to yourself with a hiss as you glared at your own legs, your hands had grab hold of each ankle, gripping it with anger.

Flashbacks of the events back then reappeared in your mind.

That black figure.

That person that you saw running away.

That bitch that dropped your ice-cream.

You felt your grip tighten, with your fingernails digging into your ankle's skin.

"She will pay for this." You vowed to yourself.

And you knew just who to ask.

--

Revenge.  

It's about time isn't it?