décalcomanie

4

"being silent for a while is good. words can't really express a person's emotions"

-

Jungkook was beginning to become genuinely worried about his Hyung.

Seokjin was slumped against the couch, his usual impeccable posture nowhere to be seen. His bright eyes were dull and devoid of life. His famously broad shoulders hunched, signature pout hidden under his overworked teeth. Seokjin was so very, very conflicted. Had even the most devout ARMY walked past in that moment, they wouldn't have recognised him at all. At that moment, the only appropriate phrase to describe the cheerful and proud Jin of BTS was that he was a shell of a man.

Often, in front of the camera, or even face-to-face, people wear masks. We're afraid of people knowing too much about us, that our pasts and pain and flaws would deter them from us when in reality, no one would really mind. In a world of scarred beings, we hide them, each thinking that each other wasn't the one wearing the mask, each thinking each other to be perfect, to be exemplary.

But for idols, it is a completely different matter. Normal people wear masks, but idols replace themselves with self-sculpted mannequins. At least normal people have the choice to live up to their own expectations, but idols have to perpetually live up to the world's ever-evolving, ever-changing standards. This was the price they had to pay for their dreams. Seokjin knew this only too well. Had he known back then that this cursed stage name of his would cause him so much confusion and inner discord, he would've just stuck with Kim Seokjin. But deep down, he knew it made no difference what his stage name was or was not. By choosing to be a part of Bangtan, he was giving a part of himself away, a part of himself that he wasn't even aware existed at first; the deep-seated roots of his personality. His personality was now a strange mix of trendy words, outgoing ways, pride, confidence and a shadow of what he used to be like before becoming a trainee. This mannequin of himself was slowly killing him inside, but it was fueling him. After all, wasn't this his dream?

Apparently not.

    "Hyung, why don't you just go back to your room and sleep? We can always have this conversation later on."

Seokjin opened his mouth to protest and realised that his sudden shortness of breath from his exhaustion would only impede his speech, further proving Jungkook's point. He gave a small subdued nod and let Jungkook help him up from the couch and into his bedroom. Looking into Jungkook's eyes, he realised that beyond that fact that they were filled to the brim with worry, there was a mark of disappointment. In that moment, while taking baby steps back to his bedroom and being propped up by his dongsaeng, he had never felt more like a failure.

"Hyung, sleep well. We have no schedule today, so don't worry."

Jungkook carefully tucked the white envelope under the lamp on Seokjin's bedside table. He was about to leave when he heard a familiar-yet-foreign raspy voice call his name.

"Jungkook-ah, read the letter on your own. Knowing the way Ethyn-ya writes, it'll be pretty self-explanatory."

"But Hyung, she wrote the letter to you. I don't want to invade your privacy."

Seokjin rolled his eyes. "The moment we joined Bighit, we unlearned the word 'Privacy'. I'm quite literally wearing Namjoonie's shirt right now."

"Don't you want to know about how your friend is doing?"

"She's definitely sent me an email with the scanned contents of the envelope. Ethyn-ya is very extra in her ways. I can't adequately explain to you my relationship with her now, and I don't think I'll ever be able to find the appropriate way to phrase my story. You know that I've never been good with words. I'm not as smart as you are. Put those inference skills you've learnt in school to good use."