3000 Stars

Different

They didn't start hugging or brushing hands in public, but Taehyung knew something had shifted in his dynamic with Yoongi. It wasn't understanding, and it wasn't love, but it was different, warmer. He couldn't push Yoongi away anymore, but Yoongi respected his space just as much as he had before.

It made it even harder to walk through the doors of the arena.

Taehyung just wanted to give up. To run away, find someplace to hide until everyone forgot about him. But he was trapped. Torturous therapy sessions, heavy losses in his arena battles, hiding from his friends, knowing Yoongi knew he was afraid of losing him...

It was too much.

Taehyung didn't know how he got through each day. Each fight. Each session. Each stilted conversation with his parents. But he did. Day after day after day. His rank stabilized and rose slowly. When Yoongi entered the top 100 at rank 98, Taehyung re-entered the top five hundred, not even sure he cared anymore.

The fighting hadn't lost its flavor. He still loved it. But he had to admit that he felt distanced from it. From his alter ego and his former friends. There was nothing to hold him down should he choose to quit again, not even his bet with Yoongi.

So why did he keep doing it?

At first he thought it was habit-- like an addict returning to their addiction. He needed fighting. He needed the arena. But when a week-long space of homework and therapy and mental exhaustion kept him out of the arena and he didn't feel any different, he had to conclude that it was just that he loved it and didn't want to let go. And how much of that was a problem, really?

He just wanted to fight.

Taehyung exited the arena, letting out a long breath and tipping his head toward the sky. The seasons were changing, the cold passing into a half-warmth that was more comfortable than the previous temperatures. He enjoyed the feeling of the sunlight passing through the projection to heat his skin.

He knew Yoongi was still fighting, so he was relaxed as he walked up the street toward the fight club. A few people passed him in the street, but no one gave him strange looks until he was right in front of the fight club. Then at least two people stopped and stared, like they couldn't believe it.

Taehyung wondered why. He glanced at his reflection in the glass door but couldn't see anything wrong with it. He didn't see any flickering-- no. he didn't see anything.

His hack was off.

Taehyung swallowed, pushing the door open and praying no one would be there. He had only taken off his hack on one other occasion, the day people had seen him at Seokjin's funeral and connected him with V. He still remembered the invasive questions, the shock, the subtle clicking of cell phone cameras. It was a funeral, but everyone was obsessed with the idea of him being unmasked for it. It sickened him to think of his friend being disrespected like that.

It was his fault.

Everything was his fault.

The air in his lungs felt thick. Taehyung walked straight through the arena and into the solo practice room, slamming the door and locking it. Once he was sure he was alone, he sank to his knees, gasping, eyes wide. When he opened his account, his hack status showed it was on, but as he yanked off his shirt and checked his torso for the marks, they were all missing.

Why?

Why did his hack have to glitch now?

His best bet was to wait for it to work again, but he didn't have that kind of time. He had to hurry and get home. He couldn't stay out late, not today, not when he needed to be home in time for dinner so he could go visit the graveyard.

The flowers were waiting.

But if he left now, they would see his real face.

No one but Zen and Dreyk had seen his real face since that day. They might not recognize him.

But if people had stared at him on his way in it was feasible to assume they would stare on the way out.

He had to find a way out.

Why wouldn't his hack work?

He turned it off and turned it back on, only to watch it flicker and die. A notification on his phone appeared, warning him he hadn't downloaded the correct software for the updates and would need to update before his hack could be turned back on safely. But when he went to his phone to allow the update, his memory was full.

He nearly started to cry right then.

When he couldn't clear out any of the memory, he did start to cry.

He needed a way out. He didn't have a mask or his jacket with him. Why did this have to happen on the day he was comfortable enough to wear nothing but a long-sleeved shirt and jeans out to the arena?

He punched the ground, gritting his teeth. He couldn't yell. If Yoongi was out there, he would recognize his voice without the hack to disguise it. Taehyung was trapped. Of all the rooms to run to, why had he picked the one that was closed off for people's safety and had no places for him to steal clothes from?

He cursed under his breath, standing and testing his powers. They still worked, but they might stop functioning if he waited too long to sign into his old account on his new phone. He had hoped to avoid making himself discoverable, since his parents might be on guard and watching his location, but there was no hope for it. He would have to use the new phone. Even if it meant they discovered him.

Now... How was he going to get out of here? 

Okay, that's it for today! I've published five chapters, so we have nine left. I usually publish eight a week, so we'll be finished by... next Saturday? Possibly next Monday? I know myself, there will be some excuse to double-update next week lol. 

Purple you all! Have a good weekend!