Gold: Kim Taehyung ✓

Labradorite

When I awoke again, I was sore. So sore.

My whole body carried a vague burn, muscles aching with fatigue, as if I'd just gone three rounds in the ring with a professional boxer. My eyes flickered open, and it was the same room.

I struggled not to hyperventilate as my eyes fell on the bandages wrapped around the crook of my elbow, the bruising that bloomed underneath. I didn't want to know what they had done to me, but I had to. "Breathe, Seomin-ssi."

I sat up. I'd thought I was quiet. Perhaps- the thought, wild, crept into my head- perhaps he was like Taehyung, too. Perhaps his hearing was better, too.

"J-... Jimin-ssi." I managed to force out the words. Wanting to be closer to the only- probably- friendly soul here, I stood up on shaky legs, moving to sit by the glass, again. In the corner, closest to where I knew his cell was. "I..." different questions fought to be asked first. "Did you know?... what the food would do, I mean..."

As he spoke, he felt close. I wondered if he'd done the same as I, sitting in the corner of his cell. "Yes." I didn't know how to feel about that. "Trust me, it's better this way."

I stayed silent, a moment, then sighed. "I do." And I did. His manner of speaking, somehow, inspired an innate sense of trust. "Do I want to know what they did to me?"

"No." The word wasn't comforting. "Seominie," I rose my eyebrows a little at the endearing nickname, but didn't say anything. "What's it like? Outside?"

I blinked a little at the question. I wondered who else was listening. "Well... I don't really know how to answer that."

Jimin sounded as though he was pouting, the tone a little sulky. "You were just there. Describe it." I tipped my head to rest against the glass. "It's been... I don't even know. My hair's a lot longer than it was. And I get beard hairs, now."

It was true that there was no way to tell time, here. Everywhere was windowless, and blindingly lit, so even day and night were off limits to us. I wasn't sure how long I'd been here. Could have been days, could have been weeks. Could have been mere hours. Of course, someone here for a long time... it made sense that he would try and use the only thing available to him as a way to tell how long it had been.

"Well... I don't really do a lot." Thinking about it, I began to realise how much in life I'd missed out on, how much I was letting slip through my fingers, by just skating through my days. How much of my life I was wasting. Had wasted. Despair began to pool in my body. "I... mostly spent my days working."

"Working? Like a job?" He asked, still sounding enthused. It was bewildering. "What work did you do?"

"Just a menial office job." I traced patterns on the mirrored glass, my reflection copying me. "Filling out paperwork, talking to clients... boring, really."

"No," he cut me off, sounding wistful, "It sounds amazing."

I felt a little guilty, at that. Even the dull days I took for granted, well- he'd spent those in here, hadn't he? What should have been his opportunity for a boring, menial life had been stolen from him. "What else do you want to know?"

We must have talked for hours. It seemed that no one ever really ventured this way, because no one stopped us, as Jimin asked me countless questions, eagerly absorbing whatever information I had. "What do you want to do? When we get out."

"When?" I repeated, and he laughed, just a little. The sound was sad.

"When." He said, firmly. "My family will come. They'll burn this place to the ground." I stayed quiet, feeling doubtful, but he continued. "I want to travel. See the world." He suddenly sounded excited, "Did you know that there's a place where it's just sand, everywhere? Stretching on for miles, like an ocean."

I couldn't help but smile a little at his enthusiasm. If I could wish- if I was allowed to wish for things in here- I wanted him to see it, too.

"And big rocks- what do you call them?- mountains." I shifted to sit on my knees, "Stretching up so high they touch the clouds. I want-" something in his tone deflated. "I want to see it all, Seominie. I'm sick of only seeing white." When I was silent, he fell quiet, too. "Are you okay? You're... quiet."

I hummed in dissonance. "I just... like listening to you. You remind me of someone else."

"Who? The person you mentioned before?" He seemed a little hesitant. "The one that left?"

I sighed out the ache that flitted through me. "Yeah. He's carefree, and knew pretty much nothing about the world, just like you. Everything is simple happiness, to him."

"Sounds like you really miss him." I bit my lip, finally willing to admit it to myself.

"I do."

We fell silent, then, and I debated asking him about Taehyung, but in the end, bit my tongue. It would be too good to be true. Too perfect. This place... it seemed like a big facility. Who knew how many people were here.

Trays of food were delivered again, and I heard an echo of one of the -I assumed- guards hitting something hard on the glass of another cell. "Get up."

Trying to pretend like I wasn't listening, closely, I picked up the bowl of rice. Another slam on the glass.

"...been unconscious way too long..." I only caught a little of the grumble as the footsteps led away, so focused back on my food, picking at it. I wasn't hungry, not at all. Even as something as simple as rice was turning my stomach.

Barely touched, I pushed the meal away, moving to sit back on the bed. The thin mattress gave no support as I crossed my legs, but I supposed I should be grateful to have one at all. If stereotypes in these situations in movies were accurate.

My fingers drifted over the bandage on my arm, to the scabbing up split lip. I hissed as I accidentally pressed too hard, causing pain to flash over my lower lip. I felt my own face, eyes going to my reflection in the mirror wall. I didn't look like me. Dark bruises were on my bare limbs, my neck, my face. Bloodstains had browned on my white button up.

I realised, some time later, that skipping the meal was a mistake. The guard who opened the door to find me sitting on my bed, conscious, didn't look happy, from what I could see of his face. I could see another behind him. The rifle, that had been strapped to his back, slid around his body, and he aimed it at me.

"Against the wall." I did as I was told, wordlessly. I didn't have any resistance. My stomach roiled, fear creeping up my spine. Trust me, it's better this way. No doubt I was about to find out what Jimin had meant.

I didn't fight as I was pushed along, dragging my feet. That was, until I caught sight of familiar, ashy blonde hair, in soft waves, in the cubicle I was passing. My eyes flared wide, and I threw myself at the glass. "Taehyung!"

He jumped as though he'd been stung. The man that was supposed to be escorting me grabbed my arms, pulling me away from the cell. I struggled in his grip, yelling. Taehyung was up and on his feet, eyes wide, staring blindly at the glass. He couldn't see me. "Noona?!"

Tears welled in my eyes. He was getting further away. "Taehyung-ah!"

I received a strong backhand to the face, and cried out in pain. Blood warmed my lips. Wordless yelling- not my own- filled my ears.

Dazed, I struggled to form words, barely remaining on my feet as I was yanked away, backwards. I could hear him screaming my name, fists slamming into the glass.