April Fools | A BTS Fanfic

THIRTY THREE

It's been four days. Four long, excruciating days since my birthday. And four days since Taehyung walked out, leaving me alone in that restaurant.

Jimin, Jungkook, and Hoseok were kind enough to stay with me for the rest of the evening, their warmth distracting me momentarily from the gnawing ache in my chest. But once they left, the silence returned—and with it, the haunting replay of Taehyung leaving without so much as an explanation.

He hasn't called. Not once. No messages, no apologies. Nothing. I tried reaching out, of course, but every call went unanswered, some even rejected outright. The sting of that silent rejection hurt more than I thought it could. Jimin mentioned Taehyung's been vanishing for hours on end, only returning to the dorm late at night to sleep before disappearing again. Even Yoongi was starting to lose patience, frustrated by the lack of communication.

And me? I've been stuck at home, stewing in my thoughts, drowning in the memories of him. The way he'd gently hold my hand as we walked, his corny jokes—cornier than Jin's, somehow—the way his eyes would light up when something made him happy, and that irresistible, boxy smile. I miss him. I miss all of him. And that's when it hit me, like a gut punch—I've fallen hard for him. And he didn't even catch me.

I think about texting him again, but the words feel too heavy, like I'm demanding something from him that he doesn't want to give. What if he doesn't reply again? Or worse, what if he says something that'll make this hurt even more?

Desperate for some kind of closure, I opened my phone and hesitated before sending him a message on his private Twitter. My hands trembled slightly as I typed:

Me:
Hi.
Uh, Taehyung?
Can we talk?
✔️ seen.

I stared at the screen for what felt like an eternity, hoping, praying, that he'd reply. But the minutes ticked by with no response, and eventually, exhaustion overtook me, pulling me into an uneasy sleep. The empty space beside me in the bed felt colder than it should have.

The shrill ring of my phone jolted me awake. Disoriented, I fumbled for the device, squinting at the clock. 10:13 p.m. flashed back at me. My heart skipped as I saw Jimin's name on the screen. I picked up quickly.

"Hello?"

"Y/N. Open the door," Jimin's familiar voice instructed, though he sounded slightly impatient.

"What?"

"I said, open the door. My hands are full!" And just like that, the call ended. I stumbled to the door and opened it to find Jimin standing there, a box of pizza in one hand and a bag of drinks and snacks in the other. He raised them triumphantly, flashing me that signature crescent-eyed smile.

"Hungry?"

I couldn't help the grin that spread across my face. For the first time in days, it felt like the clouds were parting, just a little.

As Jimin and I settled on the couch, I tried to focus on the conversation, on something—anything—other than the gaping hole Taehyung had left. I could feel the weight of the last few days pressing down on me. The silence, the unanswered questions, the worry that I'd never hear from him again.

"So, Y/N," Jimin began cautiously, "I know you probably don't want to talk about it, but... how are you holding up since your birthday?"

"I'm... okay, I guess," I replied, avoiding his eyes. The concern in them was almost too much to bear. I couldn't lie to him, not when he was looking at me like that. But the truth felt too raw. Too much to say out loud.

"Y/N," Jimin pressed, his tone softer, "is there something else going on? Was it really just a prank? Or were you and Taehyung—" He paused, choosing his words carefully. "—together?"

His question caught me so off-guard I nearly choked on my pizza. Jimin leapt to his feet, grabbing a glass of water for me from the kitchen. Handing it over, he chuckled softly.

"Well, that reaction says a lot," he teased, though his eyes were still searching mine for answers.

I sighed, leaning my head against his shoulder. "I've liked him for a while, Jimin. Even before all of this. But now? I don't know anymore."

The ache in my chest intensified as I thought about everything that had happened. The memories of us felt distant now, tainted by uncertainty. He hadn't even given me the chance to explain myself.

Jimin tilted his head, looking down at me with an incredulous smile. "You like him as a man, not just as an idol or a friend. Stop dancing around it, Y/N. Be honest."

"Well, yes," I admitted softly, almost too quietly to hear. "I think I am stupid."

"You're not stupid," Jimin murmured, resting his head gently on mine. The silence between us was comforting, but it didn't last long. My phone buzzed sharply, breaking the moment.

We both glanced at the screen.

"It's a tweet," I muttered, my voice shaking slightly as I opened the notification.

@BTS_twttt:
"Hello everyone! It's been a long time. Have you been well? I just wanted to say that what we revealed last April 1st was only a prank. Hehe, did you enjoy it? Well, I hope you all have a good day and don't get sick! I miss you, ARMYs. 💜"

I stared at the screen, frozen. The words blurred as my mind tried to process the betrayal buried within them. Taehyung had ended the prank—without even telling us. Without telling me.

Beside me, Jimin's expression darkened, his usual warmth replaced by simmering anger. He stood abruptly, shoving his phone into his pocket.

"Y/N," he said, his voice clipped, "I need to go. I need to have a word with that bastard. I'm sorry. I'll visit you again soon."

He hugged me tightly, pressing a quick kiss to my forehead before striding out the door. And I was left alone once more, staring blankly at my phone.

Does this mean we're over?

Just like that?