Twisted Every Way || Vmin/Yoonmin {Complete}

1 -- Serendipity

When Seokjin arrived at the studio that morning to make sure all was well, he wandered into the rehearsal room to find everyone except for their star in a state of complete chaos. He stood at the door, watching for a moment. The dancers seemed to be huddled in a circle, gossiping frantically. All of the staff members were trying to shout over one another, though there was so much going on at once that he couldn't figure anything out by trying to listen. So finally, he strolled calmly over, and when they didn't notice his presence right away, he spoke up.

"Excuse me," he said, not quite in a shout, but loud enough to immediately cease all other conversation and cause every eye to turn to him. "What's going on here?" he pried, his eyes scanning the crowd over. "Where's Jungkook?"

There was a long pause before someone found courage and spoke.

"He's... He's in his dressing room, Mr. Kim... sick to his stomach."

"What?" Seokjin's eyebrows raised, and for a split second there was fire in his eyes. It must have scared a few people because several spoke up to ease the tension, but the most prominent voice was one that said:

"He's with a doctor now if you'd like to speak to him."

"I see." Seokjin glanced everyone over and sharply turned on his heels. "Excuse me," he said politely, slipping past the door and hastily making his way across the building to Jungkook's dressing room. Surely enough, the young star was sprawled out on his couch completely disheveled, groaning with his skin covered in a mist of sweat. Seokjin entered quietly, as to not interrupt the conversation taking place between the young man and the physician.

"When did you start feeling strange?" the doctor was asking him, to which for a moment Jungkook could only moan and weakly point toward a glass of water that sat on his vanity.

"... I was fine... until I drink that..." he said at last, his hand collapsing back down over his forehead. The doctor nodded and took a few notes.

"Pardon my interruption," Seokjin spoke up, making his presence known, "but will he be able to perform?"

"Mr. Kim." The doctor politely stood and moved toward him. "I do think he'll be okay. But there's no question about it: he will not be performing tonight."

"I see," Seokjin sighed. There was a long pause. The doctor came closer, and leaned in to whisper to the heir.

"I should caution you, Mr. Kim. It would seem as though this was done on purpose to him. I won't point fingers, but it wasn't an accident."

Seokjin was silent as he considered the doctor's words. The thought of the supposed studio ghost crossed his mind, but he, too, dismissed this theory. There had to be a real person behind it, though he wasn't focused enough to decide who it might have been to play such a fowl prank. He was more concerned at the idea of Taehyung's disappointment if their plans were cancelled, and of course at the loss of the money if tickets were to be refunded. Their auditorium was anything but small, and it was normal and expected for every seat to be sold out.

"I understand. Thank you, Doctor. Please do whatever you can for him," he said at last with a numbness in his voice before heading back to where everyone else still panicked in his absence. By the time he arrived, he had pondered on the ordeal long enough to feel his blood boiling. He wasn't normally fast to anger, but these were extreme circumstances.

"It seems Jungkook won't be better any time soon," his voice thundered as he stormed back into the room, violently swinging the door open and causing complete and immediate silence. "So, just what are we supposed to do now? Refund tickets?"

Everyone stared with dismay at his outburst, for the answer was obvious. What other option was there? Jungkook was their singular star. There never was a plan B; there had never been a need. However, there was some whispering among the dancers that caught Seokjin's attention.