Twisted Every Way || Vmin/Yoonmin {Complete}

7 -- The Truth Untold

"...Yoongi," the man said at last. "Please forgive me, Jimin."

"How can I?" Jimin wept. "After I believed in you, it all turned out to be a lie!" He buried his face in his hands, sobbing. "I really am an idiot after all!"

"No," Yoongi said frantically, sinking to his knees to bow low to the ground. "I tricked you," he admitted. He could barely believe his own disposition, and yet he felt he had to do whatever he could to make the tears stop. In doing so, his eyes started to swell as well. "It started out so innocently, Jimin. I heard you singing to yourself once, and I could tell... I knew with training, that voice could get you somewhere. I just wanted to help you make a name for yourself. At the time, posing as your angel seemed like the best way to do that and not get too invested. And then as time passed..." He shook his head in disbelief at himself. It had all snowballed so quickly. "As time passed, I got emotionally invested in you anyway, and..."

"Take me back," Jimin begged, his tired eyes staring down at him. "Please."

"Wait," Yoongi said gently. Still on his knees, he moved in a hint closer, reaching for and taking Jimin's hand; the blond didn't pull away, instead looking down at him with despair and a hint of pity. "Won't you listen to my music once more?"

Yoongi slowly stood, ever clinging to Jimin's hand, and led him to the other side of the keyboard. Upon releasing him, he moved back to his seat at the instrument and sat for just a moment, trying still to absorb the shock of the situation. Jimin watched him with tears still in his eyes, yet with patience. Yoongi began to play with his heart on his sleeve; Jimin slowly sat on a box that was just behind him, and listened with his hands balled together. Though he had heard these melodies before, and even though they were really quite beautiful, he found that the lack of unworldly quality in them to be the final strike in shattering his fantasy.

Jimin did awake in his dressing room later, this time very much unsure of how he had gotten there. Still, the painful memory of his counterfeit angel stayed with him. Usually on mornings like these, even if his head pounded and his eyes still felt tired, he had a lightness in his step and a feeling of bliss all around him. But today, there was none of that. He left the Studio feeling like a piece of himself had rotted away. He sat alone in his apartment curled up for a few hours and cried, though he couldn't place exactly why this had unnerved him so deeply. Yes, he had truly believed in his guardian angel; perhaps with the death of his angel, the part of him that believed in the good of the world, or in happy endings, or his optimism had died as well. Maybe he also felt as though he was alone all over again, as he had felt before his angel had appeared. In feeling so helpless, he for a short moment considered ending it all in a desperate attempt to free himself from the pain--but then he remembered someone with the potential to fill the void within himself.

----------------------

Taehyung wasn't sure what to think when his phone suddenly went off. He hadn't really spoken to anyone since he came back into town, especially since he had spent the past month cooped up at home, usually sulking in his room if he wasn't putting in his best faux smile to spend time with his brother. He thought about ignoring it for a moment as he sat motionlessly on his windowsill, gazing out at the blinding brightness. But, he pulled his phone closer to him anyway, his lips parting to inhale a gasp when he saw a text from a number long abandoned;

"The park, 6:00PM. Please don't be late."

Taehyung's eyes darted to the time in the corner of his phone screen: 5:37 PM. If he left the house now, he could just make it. He didn't take the time to question anything in his head, he just grabbed what he needed and ran. After everything that Seokjin had told him, and after everything he had seen the night before, he couldn't afford to pass on what could have been a cry for help. He tapped his foot with anxiety during his ride on the subway, and squeezed through the crowd to sprint the rest of the way there are soon as the doors opened.