withering leaves ❁ yoonmin

XVI

February 28, 2014

Dear Jung Hoseok-ssi,

When you left Bangtan, I was honestly terrified. I wanted to quit, too. I knew, somehow, that we wouldn't get anywhere without you. We wouldn't be talented enough without you. You were the life of the group-you still are-but getting through each day without your light was like trying to make your way through a maze. We almost didn't make it.

Your dancing inspires me so much. You have no clue. You picked up rapping like you had been doing it your entire life. I wish I could learn things as easily as you. You're like an extension of Namjoon-ssi. If both of you weren't already paired with someone else, I'd think the two of you were soulmate halves.

I wish my soulmate and I could be nearly as close as you are to Namjoon-ssi. I wish I at least knew who my soulmate would be. I wish a lot of things. Things I know will never come true. That's stupid, right? I'm literally living my dream. How could I ever wish for something more? I don't have the answer to that.

You're so lucky, sometimes I envy you. You found the love of your life, you two are like opposites but you have the same interests, you both live in music. You've found someone to love you completely for the rest of your life.

I don't really know what more I'm supposed to write. I have so much to say but no way to put it in words.

Don't panic about giving birthday and Christmas gifts. Seriously, we will all love whatever you give us, even if it's just an empty cardboard box. You need to stop stressing about how much we'll like it. You always put so much thought into our gifts, we'll always love it for sure.

Stop doubting yourself. You're the best dancer I know in the entire world and one mistake doesn't take away from the fact that you were literally born to dance. Your choreography is amazing and I know someday, you'll be choreographing most of the dances for Bangtan.

You don't need to be happy all the time. You're not required to be smiling every single moment of your life. We all have bad days. Trust me, I know personally.

Don't be such a clean freak all the time. Don't take harsh comments too personally. Don't stop using that orange body gel that we all love smelling whenever you come out of the shower (and especially that orange-ish perfume you use). Don't freak out about your hair too much. Your choice of shoes isn't too imposing. No, you are not the visual hole. Stop it.

Just make sure you won't miss me too much. I know when I'm gone it may be tough but Bangtan has the talent and the drive to make it without me.

Hoseok-ssi, I wish you all the best. I'll miss you.

Love,
You-know-who

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There was a certain point when even the best songs became annoying. When the words feel like noodles, tangling together in an incoherent mess until they lost meaning altogether. When the beat begins to feel like a painful shock. When the instrumentation has lost its uniqueness, instead boiled down to an annoying heap of sounds.

That was exactly how Jimin felt right now, at a live promotion for their title track, Boy In Luv. He was already sick of the song from having practiced it so many times. It was only their third performance and it was already getting old.

Of course, Jimin would never get sick of seeing his fans and seeing them happy but hearing "wae nae mameul heundeuneun geonde" on repeat gets old much faster than one would think. Especially for someone who only associates the song with exhaustion and heaviness and soreness.

But each time, Jimin goes out there and paints a smile. An impenetrable mask where he is not Park Jimin the Busan-born dancer. He is Park Jimin of Bangtan Sonyeondan. Park Jimin the rebel. Park Jimin the heartthrob. Sure, not many people knew who he was yet, but they would know soon enough. The world would soon recognize Bangtan for the talent they were, whether or not Jimin was there.

That was Jimin's goal. Work himself, quite literally, to the death. Maybe the news of his death would spread throughout the country and Bangtan would gain more popularity. Then Jimin's sacrifice wouldn't have been in vain.

When the dance assistant would yell "Sharper! Hit the beats like you mean them! Don't be sloppy!" Jimin would push himself deeper towards exhaustion? Working himself to the bone for his members. Everything was for the members, for Bangtan, for his new family. Jimin's real family didn't even know.

BTS just had their first appearance on After School Club, something they had been looking forward to for a long while. But looking back on the recordings posted all over the internet, Jimin found himself cringing. No, it wasn't the tacky black outfits and gaudy golden chains. It wasn't their overdone eyeliner or the lost manner in which they navigated the English language. It was the fact that, even through all the concealer and foundation and blush-all the attempts to make him look somewhat alive-didn't seem to work.

ARMY hadn't really commented on it. Jimin didn't know why; he didn't think he was that good of an actor. But maybe they all assumed that he was just exhausted from promotions and practice like most idols usually were. But Jimin wasn't most idols. Most idols didn't get Hanahaki. Most idols had normal soulmate pairs and halves that loved them infinitely. Instead, Jimin is half a soul, half a heart, and he will therefore live half a life.

Jimin felt the sudden urge to cough but he withheld it with a willpower he didn't know he possessed. He was onstage, in front of other idols, on a live KBS broadcast, with hundreds of fans watching his every move. Now was not the time to have a coughing fit.

He held down a cough, rushing off to the side of the stage, down into the wings as he found one of BigHit's staff. The first one he found was Min-soo.

"Oh, Jiminie!" The stylist exclaimed, pulling a handkerchief out of her pocket. She gave it to Jimin so he could safely cough out the flowers.

Jimin sat down against a wall, cupping the cloth around his mouth and letting the flowers spill from his mouth. Someone sat next to him; Jungkook, by the smell of the cologne, and gently ran a hand along Jimin's shoulders as he heaved as quietly as possible.

"These episodes are getting worse, aren't they?" Min-soo observed quietly.

Jimin folded the napkin up neatly, covering any evidence of the yellow flowers. "Yes, they are, Noona."

Jungkook ducked his head as Min-soo crouched down in front of Jimin, taking the used handkerchief and using another one to wipe down the sweat that had collected on Jimin's forehead. Even through the cloth, she could feel Jimin's high temperature and the shivers that wracked through his body. "Take care of yourself, Jiminie."

"Yes, Noona."

"Hey, you two!" A producer of the broadcast called from behind a camera. "What are you two doing offstage? They're about to announce the winners! You need to get up there."

"Yes, sir," Min-soo responded. "I'll get them up there right away."

Jungkook bounced to his feet, helping Jimin up slowly. The producer ushered them both to the stage, pushing them in front of everyone, even though they weren't one of the candidates for winning.

"Uh... sir? We're not supposed to be-"

"It doesn't matter," the producer cut them off sharply, sliding on his headset and tapping something onto his tablet furiously. "Just stand there and look pretty."

The producer briskly left the stage as a countdown started on the teleprompters. The cameras then went live and Jimin put on a wide smile. He danced around and goofed off onstage, suddenly fueled by the screeches of delight from the audience. Although his throat and chest hurt like hell, he kept smiling. He would keep pretending.

ARMY's last memory of him would be smiling. Happy and free and content. Just like he should be.

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A/N: but the question is... who's writing the letters... O.o