Min, Interrupted

one

He didn't remember much from that night.

Drip.

Flashing red and blue lights.

Drip.

The rain falling harder.

Drip.

People were screaming.

Drip.

Gunshots echoed.

Drip.

Children were crying.

Drip.

Blood. God, there was blood everywhere-

Drip.

Yoongi gripping tightly onto his trembling hand.

Drip.

Yoongi running as fast as he could to save him.

Drip.

Yoongi.

Oh God, this was all his fault-

Drip.

If he never listened to Chanyeol, he would be here.

Drip.

If he didn't go to that party-

If he never spoke to him-

If he never sent that text-

If Yoongi never met him, he would be fine-

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

"Jimin?"

Jumping as if he'd been shocked, an extremely rough looking Park Jimin turned the leaky faucet on completely and threw some water in his face. "Yeah, Mom?" he forced out.

"Dinner is ready," she said gently. "I made kimchi."

"Thank you, but I'm not very hungry."

Truthfully, he hadn't been hungry in days. Eating wasn't his priority, (which, if you recall, wasn't normal for him). Neither was sleeping.

"Mochi, you haven't eaten in days," she tried. "Just a few bites. Please."

Jimin sighed. He pulled the door open. There stood Park Hye, worrying her lower lip subconscious. She looked her son and down with worried eyes. He was much thinner, and his eyes were more sunken in. He looked positively miserable and entirely exhausted. There was nothing more she wanted than to hold him tight and promise him everything was going to be okay. She didn't know that, though. No one did.

"Alright," he said. He trudged down the stairs and into the dining room. At the table sat Jon-dwo, looking as smug and drunk as always.

"Look who decided to come down!" he slurred. "Finally finished crying over your boyfriend?"

Jimin stayed silent, stone faced as he'd been for the previous weeks. He pulled out a chair for his mother to sit, and he took his seat beside her, staring blankly as he put food into his mouth. It was as if his body was on autopilot, and his brain vacated the premises.

"Mochi," Hye said gently after he'd eaten half his food. "A letter came for you." She slid it to him from across the tiny table. Before Jon-dwo could snatch it up, Jimin quickly picked it up. Seeing the handwriting and the name made his stomach evaporate to liquid.

Min Yoongi

Seoul Detention Center

Park Jimin

102 Sajikrogil

Seoul, South Korea 16909

He tore the envelope open with care.

Hey Dolly,

I'm writing this to let you know I'm doing alright. I haven't been killed or jumped in here yet or anything, so don't worry.

Okay, so, maybe I'm not the best at writing letters. Rapping always came easy because it was fast and quick. Like texting. Anyway, my point in all this is:

DISCLAIMER: I'm not good at letters.

I miss you.

I miss you. Yep, I said it. But I want you to know me being in here isn't your fault. It's no one's fault. You and I and everyone else know what's going on here. I could never kill someone. (Shocker, I know. I'm pretty badass, so I guess I'll let them slide for the mistake.)

I don't regret meeting you at all. You're family, Jimin. Family sticks together.

The guys told me you don't look so hot. You've been driving yourself crazy trying to get me home. Baby, you gotta live. I'm not getting out of here. You shouldn't have to sacrifice your life for mine. It isn't worth it. I'm not worth it. Everyone, even since I was younger, knew this was where I'm destined to end up.

Thank you for everything. I'm okay here.

Promise me one thing, though, okay? Be strong.

Love,

Yoongi

P.S: Tell Heteroseok he's a fag for me.

A watery laugh choked itself from Jimin's lips. Tears rolled down his cheeks. Missing Yoongi was drowning him, but this letter was like a gasp of fresh air from above the waves.

Hye's hand was always reached for her son's shaky ones. Thankfully, Jon-dwo had passed out before the tears fell. She braced for the impact.

But they never came.

Be strong, he reminded himself.

He took a breath and swallowed. Blinking back the tears, he took another bite of his food. After not eating for so long, his stomach turned as he chewed.

He had to have hope for the both of them. It had been almost two months with nothing to show for it. Yoongi was still locked up for a murder he didn't commit with God only knows what type of people. There was no way of knowing if he was okay. He could have written that letter from the infirmary, for all he knew. There was no one there for Yoongi to call for backup in the event of something happening. Anything bad could happen, and no one would know. The police had been crying to lock Min Yoongi up for years. Now that they had him, his life in prison would be no dream.

Jimin had to work harder. He couldn't give up.

Be strong. For Yoongi.