Pluto Rooms | Jikook

.._

Jimin is staring at the drawings spread across his bed when Hoseok enters his room the next morning. The sun is shining ruefully through the window shade, illuminating Jimin's tears and puffy face with a stark reminder that he hasn't slept the whole night.

"Hey Jimin? I thought I heard you--oh! Oh my God, Jimin! What's wrong...h-hey? Why are you crying? Hey now..." Hoseok rushes towards his spot on the bed. Jimin is curled up on his side, softly sobbing while he stares at his phone, as if expecting it to light up with a notification. He's obsessively listening for the ding! that will tell him that Jungkook responded to all the worried, apologetic texts that Jimin sent him. If Jungkook won't answer his phone calls and video calls, the least he can do is respond to Jimin's texts. Please respond. Please.

"...Jimin? Talk to me. What's wrong? Did something bad happen at work last night?"

Jimin whines at the memory of the boy driving off--at the boy who he'd dreamed of meeting while smiling and jumping and running and hugging--instead of hurting him by kissing Jinyoung. There is no doubt in Jimin's mind that Jungkook witnessed the kiss. Anyone with working eyes who managed to look out the window of Radon at the right time could see the kiss. 

"I...m-messed...up..." Jimin sniffles, throwing his phone down on the bedsheet. Hoseok is rubbing his back in gentle circles, staring at the drawings of Jimin on the bed. Jimin meets his gaze, studying the images of himself that make his heart hurt. His gaze falls back upon the drawing of the boy in the booth sitting next to Eunmi who is scribbled out in heavy black marks. Why would Jungkook draw himself like that?  

"I r-really fucking...m-messed u-u-p, Hobi."

Hoseok pulls one of the drawings up, his face a mixture of confusion and interest as he skims over the purple and yellow hearts dancing along the pages. "Did Jinyoung make these?"

Jimin wipes at his puffy eyes, stomach aching. He hasn't had anything to eat since before his shift last night, but after ruining things with Jungkook, he hasn't been hungry. He's been laying on the bed, his mind racing at a million miles as he relives the evening over and over again. 

The notebook filled with information about Pluto97 has been flipped through painfully the entire night, Jimin's tears absorbing into the pages. He's been trying to make sense of it--of the gameplay, the person, the family, the wheelchair. The possible reason why Jungkook didn't want to get personal in the first place.

Between crying fits and studying the handmade drawings deeply, Jimin has been researching for hours on why someone would need to be in a wheelchair in the first place. He's considered all different types of degenerative illnesses, watching videos of terrible accidents and rare conditions while his lip trembles in worry. Imagining any of these horrible things happening to Jungkook makes his heart ache as if someone has stabbed him. The main question of why wouldn't he tell me? makes Jimin confused, angry, and finally, sad.

If I were in a wheelchair would I tell the other player? Maybe not...maybe it's embarrassing...maybe he's had people kick him out of games for being disabled or injured. Or maybe he thinks that I would treat him worse if I knew he was in a wheelchair? Why would he ever think that?

The wheelchair...how could I not guess it before? It all makes sense now. The strange controls...the sponge character as a cover up for what he really looks like, his mother making him soup everyday, the physical therapy...the reason he didn't want it to get personal. Does he think I'm heartless, that I would like him any less knowing he was disabled? I'm not a monster...but oh, oh...I fucked up bad...he hates me now...I told him that I liked him and then fucking ruined it--I should have told Jinyoung off long ago...he definitely won't forgive me on this one.