BTS - G̴̼͑̒L̶͙͗̒̚I̷͙̭̋̍̉T̴̢̳͖̐͝C̷̺̱̏̋͠Ḥ̴͖͑̽E̶͇̰̊̒̃D̴̲̼̉̆͝ #WATTY'S2019

29

You told me I wasn't worth your time. You didn't know that your words would become engrained in my mind.

-

ten years ago

"Hope! Catch!"

A group of young boys run around the basketball field, running shoes curbing into the sand like soil and they rush to block the ball from the other team's hands. There were only eight boys, divided into 'fair' groups, one of three and the other of five. Simply because some players were better than other.

A boy with dark brown hair catches the ball in his hands, proceeding to run while dribbling the ball to the opposite team's net. The scorching sun sends vibrations through his core as a rush of adrenaline comes, the sixteen year old jumping as high as possible and dunking the ball straight through the hoop. A series of claps and cheers resonate through the field.

"We've got our winning team every one! The Three Musketeers!" A boy with bright red hair and an obnoxious smile yells, proud of his group of three for beating the sophomore team. "All thanks to Hoseok hyung, again!"

The brunette turns around, gasping for air. "Thanks guys, but it's pretty late. I've gotta go home." He gets multiple groans and complaints, but waves off the unsatisfactory whining. He starts walking off, but catches sight of a girl sitting on the bench... or boy? He couldn't tell.

The kid had a sketchbook in their hands, seemingly was sketching something but quickly closes the book one they realize Hoseok's eyes planted on them. Hoseok smirks and makes his way to the bench, seeing the kid stiffen and look down, their long black hair fully covering their facial features.

"Hey kid, what's your name?" Hoseok asks, throwing a zip up sweater over his shoulders and hiding the slight marks on his arms, scarred on his skin from pressing his nails too deep into the flesh.

The kid looks up and Hoseok is taken aback by the black eye, his shock visible, the kid looks back down. "M-my name is T-Taehyung.. please don't hit me."

Hoseok picks up his school bag from the side of the bench, slinging it over his shoulder and sitting down beside the kid. He guesses now that the younger is a boy, judging by his low voice. "You're clearly pretty young, so I'm guessing you don't go to this school. What brings you here?"

Taehyung fidgets a bit, Hoseok noticing his discomfort. The older sighs. "I'm not going to hurt you."

The long haired kid nods, looking over at Hoseok. He notices how bad the black eye is, this kid must've gotten into some kind of fight. The younger opens his mouth and waits a couple seconds before replying. "I come here to draw. My school is just down the road. I'm in eighth grade." His voice is respectful and professional, seeming rehearsed.

"What were you drawing?" Hoseok asks. The kid opens his sketchbook to the most recent page, turning it for Hoseok to see. It's a drawing of his slam dunk. The older is surprised by how well it's drawn. Taehyung closes the book again, turning away embarrassed. "That's really good!"

Hoseok can see the ravenette's ears flush red, Hoseok chuckling from how easily flustered he seems. "Well I've gotta go home kid. What's your name again?"

"T-Taehyung." The kid mumbles, fiddling with his ballpoint pen. "Kim Taehyung."

Hoseok smiles brightly, and the sun seems to reflect off of his high cheekbones. "I'm gonna call you Tiger."

-

present day

"So my sister... was dealing drugs?" Seokjin's eyes widen at his own words, watching the video keenly. "That explains a lot.. goodness."

The group is all gathered at the dinner table conversing over the simple yet well made meal Seokjin cooked with love and a lot of vegetable oil. They're contemplating the circumstances, wondering if they should go to the police or not.

Of course it would make sense to reveal this information to professionals, but the group is concerned about Jungkook having to go into questioning for knowing the man who's a suspect. They're also concerned about going all together, since the variety in their group could cause a scene in the police station. I mean with the way they would be seen; a pink haired schizophrenic, a dazed insomniac, an emotionally drained suicide case, an emotionally deprived 6 foot slender man, a crazy multiple-mood redhead, and especially a human skeleton...

Speaking of, Jimin is sitting at the table with a completely different focus. The seven hundred too many calorie meal placed in front of him is gnawing at his brain. Sure he's gained weight from Yoongi helping him keep his mind off his disorder during meal times (11 pounds to be exact), but whenever it's put up to him to deal with it alone, it's a struggle to even lift his fork. In the beginning he'd throw the food across the table whenever Yoongi tried to encourage him. Then he'd take about twenty minutes to eat a green bean. Then he and Yoongi went out to the coffee shop down the street, and he ordered a mocha saying 'fuck it' but regretted it immensely afterwards and spent that whole evening crying in Yoongi's arms. Then he ate a green bean in five minutes, proceeding to be congratulated by the older.

With Yoongi's help he became able to finish at least half his plate or bowl at almost every meal time, and he felt guilt at first but then got used to it. But he still can't eat on his own, without overthinking every calorie. He picks up the fork and knife, proceeding to separate the vegetable from the rice unconsciously. His mind screams many insults through his brain.

YOU KNOW HOW MUCH YOU'VE GAINED? YOU'RE PRACTICALLY OBESE!

The voice screams at him. Jimin takes Yoongi's advice from the last week, breathing deeply and replying to it's loud antics. I know how much I've gained. I'm still underweight. I want to be healthy and happy, I can do this. I can do this.

Jimin lifts his fork, pressing it down into a circular chunk of carrot. The voice groans at the oil, trying to make him stop with yelling about how unpleasant it looks and how unappealing it appears. Jimin shakes it off. I'm strong. I can do this.

He lifts the piece of carrot into his mouth, chewing it, swallowing it. A simple process, taking so much effort. See? I did it. I did it. I did it... I did....

Jimin sets down the fork and looks down at his legs, his knee bobbing up and down as he starts to reflect on what he just did. His breathing becomes heavy and the voices of the group become faded. Listen to me Jimin. The voice echoes in his head. You're fat. Worthless. A piece of trash. You don't deserve to eat.

Jimin furrows his eyebrows and his heart starts beating heavily as he reaches for the fork again, lifting it off the table. The voice yells endless warnings through his head, but the ravenette tries his hardest not to listen as he takes a chunk of potato and chicken onto his fork. His lifts it to his lips, into his mouth, chew, swallow.

He lets out a breath of relief and smiles slightly, proceeding to continue his meal. Seokjin made this with love. I deserve to eat it, it's really good. I can do this.

"How're ya coping with the stir fry Jimbles?" Yoongi asks kindly, checking up on the younger. The group silences a bit and looks over at him, Jimin's cheeks warming and turning red from embarrassment as they all wait for a reply.

Jimin looks up at the group and smiles genuinely. "I'm doing good. The food is good. Thanks Seokjin hyung."

A positive aura of relief washes over the table and the room seems brighter, the whole group simply going back to their meals and conversing about what to do about the video clip.

Yoongi sneakily takes Jimin's left hand from under the table, intertwining their fingers. Jimin's heart warms as he looks up at the older, who's eyes are sparkling with how proud he is. Jimin gives the lilac haired's hand a slight squeeze, and picks up his fork again.

-

a/n

Let's hope this period of recovery lasts for Jimin.

What do you guys think they're going to do about the video clip?

-Cayson