"And you say that you're not worth it
And get hung up on your flaws
But in my eyes you are perfect
As you are
As you are"
❀
- V -
BTS, aka Bangtan Sonyeondan.
That is who they were supposed to be now—supposedly Bulletproof. After three rounds of discussions, with everyone contributing their two cents on what the concept of their group was supposed to be, this name received the most votes. Their youth would be the centre of the theme.
With Bangtan finalised, it was up to them to choose their stage names. Namjoon was already known as Rap Monster, or RM. Min Yoongi went with Suga, an acronym for his position in his basketball team. Hoseok leaned toward a play on words with J-Hope, inspired by a rapper he had looked up to since his childhood—J. Cole. The "J" stood for Jung, and he wanted to be a figure of hope in the future.
Seokjin, with his no-nonsense attitude, simply chose Jin, and Jimin loved his name too much to choose another one. Plus, he was too occupied with worries of being kicked off the team at the last minute to think of any fancy callsigns. And the maknae went with the Americanized version of his name, Jungkook.
Taehyung lay flat on the ground, deep in thought. What was he supposed to choose? He wondered if he should just stick to his original name, but he was not entirely sure people would be able to pronounce it properly. He could go with his initials, but that just seemed too cliché. He wanted something simple yet meaningful. Something that would be easy but also—sexy?
Maybe sexy wasn't the right word.
But his name would need to have an edge to it.
A rustling beside him made him turn his head to find Jeongguk laying himself down beside him with a huff.
Taehyung's heart swelled.
It usually did when the youngest chose to seek him out.
"Tired, eh, Jeonggukshi?" He let out a light laugh.
"Ah, hyungnim," Jeongguk groaned. "I think we are all dead, and this is hell."
Even with the dropping temperatures outside, their practice room was sweltering with heat. In September, it was time for jackets and hoodies, but at the moment, none of the members had anything more on than a Tee or a vest. 'Baby Jeon,' as Yoongi called him, pulled up his T-shirt and wiped the sweat from his forehead.
Taehyung had his eyes glued to his torso. With all the workouts they were now subjected to in preparation for their debut, their muscles were starting to show. Faint lines of his obliques were visible, and Taehyung felt a searing heat flare up his spine.
That was entirely unrelated.
Obviously.
It had to be the exhaustion seeping into his bones.
Taehyung gulped and looked away.
His eyes found Yoongi standing in a corner, looking morose. Since his 'accident down the stairs,' the elder seemed to be more out of it than usual.
"You didn't choose a stage name yet?" Jeongguk questioned.
Taehyung sighed. "Not yet—I'm not sure what to choose."
"Taeco Bell?"
Taehyung blinked at the youngest, his face devoid of all emotion, then rolled his eyes, making Jeongguk grin.
Seokjin flopped down beside them. "What are you guys up to?" he asked, sipping from his bottle, not even lifting his face.
"Taehyungie hyung can't decide on a name," Jeongguk sighed.
"Oh, Taehyunga," Seokjin echoed in a deep voice.
"I suggested Taeco Bell," Jeongguk let out a light laugh, making Seokjin join in. "Sounds appetising, really." Taehyung sighed in resignation.
Hoseok and Namjoon walked over to them, depositing themselves on the floor, followed by Yoongi and Jimin. They lay in a circle, with their heads together, their bodies stretched out in a flower shape.
"Taehyung can't decide on a name," Seokjin announced.
Hoseok made a sound in understanding.
"Doesn't he already have a name?" Namjoon let out a light laugh and Jimin sighed. "Hyung, please don't spend time with Jin hyung– his jokes are rather— contagious."
Seokjin chuckled. "TaeTae?"
"Too childish," Yoongi muttered.
"Our Taehyung is just a baby," Seokjin cooed, tickling Taehyung's chin.
"KT– or TK–" Jimin inputted.
"Doesn't have any ring to it," Hoseok murmured. "Kimmy?" he added.
"Sounds like a Kadarshian," Seokjin disagreed.
"What is a Kadarshian?" Jimin asked.
"I couldn't explain even if I wanted to," Seokjin sighed.
Jeongguk's stomach grumbled, cutting their conversation short.
"I never need a watch," Yoongi confessed. "Jeongguk's hunger tells me the time."
"Let's get going then," Seokjin laughed and heaved himself up, dusting his pants. He put out his hand for Taehyung and pulled him up. "What would you like for dinner?" he asked, as Taehyung put on his jacket.
"Uh– maybe some Jji–"
"Why aren't you asking me?" Jeongguk protested from the floor.
"You're too small to have an opinion," Seokjin grinned, making Jeongguk roll his eyes with a huff. He tried to trip Seokjin, putting his foot out, but the elder jumped up and dodged successfully, giving a cheeky smile to Jeongguk.
Taehyung laughed at their camaraderie. He would be lying to himself if he didn't admit that there had been fleeting moments in time when he had watched the brotherhood of the youngest and oldest and felt jealous (not that he would ever admit it.)
Seokjin cared for Jeongguk like his own. He fulfilled all the duties of raising a young boy and turning him into an acceptable adult. Caring for him, reprimanding him, putting him back in line, but most of all, loving him like a brother.
It must be entirely satisfying to have an older sibling who looked out for you. Taehyung sighed, feeling a faint tightening in his heart as the happy gurgles of a child echoed around him, a distant memory of child chasing him, hands outstretched, calling out for his 'hyungie', wrapped itself around his chest. He pulled the straps of his backpack tighter, shook his head to clear his mind, and followed the others, exiting the building.
October passed with the whiffs of winter to come. November had warned of the icy temperatures. December brought in the biting cold and the white flurries and January ushered in a new beginning.
Or so Taehyung thought.
His surroundings remained bleak, if not worse. Even with things moving toward a debut, the future remained uncertain. For hours upon hours, they practiced, their limbs aching, their bodies working tirelessly. Their funds remained non existent, and the songs they recorded had to be done in Pdogg's garage.
By mid-February, Taehyung was spiraling. He had no idea what his stage name was going to be, and the time to finalise and announce the lineup drew nearer with each day. The company had told him in very clear words that his debut would be kept a secret, and Taehyung couldn't help but fall into the abyss of fear of getting dropped from the debut at the last minute. It was possible. His friend of a friend of a friend had been cut from a debuting group on the last day.
Even Jimin's debut hung in the balance.
"95s with the bad luck," he sighed to himself, leaning back on the studio's wall. But between him and Jimin, if they had to choose one, Taehyung was sure it would be Jimin. Hell, if he himself had to choose, he wouldn't choose himself. He would choose the boy who worked so hard that he would sleep at 3 am and be up at 6 am for school. He would choose the boy he once found sitting on a park bench, furiously drawing in his notebook, so engrossed that he didn't even realise Taehyung stood behind him, peeking in. He kept drawing stick figures, memorizing them, and later Taehyung understood it had been the choreographies they had learned. Park Jimin had the least chance of debuting, as he had overheard Namjoon and Seokjin talking in hushed tones one day, but Taehyung knew if anyone could bend the odds with his diligence, it would be Jimin.
Taehyung stared at the mirror in the practice room. He looked like he was about to audition for a role in a zombie movie. Jimin sat hunched over beside him, looking like he had already been cast for the role.
Yoongi was running on about 8 cups of coffee a day. Namjoon had been gulping down energy drinks like water. Hoseok had monstrous eyebags from his lack of sleep, and Seokjin kept a small spray of pain reliever in his pockets for his shoulder that he twisted during practice.
In his periphery, Taehyung could see Seokjin struggling to keep his eyes open, and Hoseok slapping himself from time to time to stay focused.
The maknae sat in a corner, looking like he would crawl under a bed at any moment and fall asleep so that no one could find him.
"If I just ate coffee powder, would it help?" Seokjin asked, eyeing the coffee in Yoongi's hand.
It was six in the morning, and they had already been practicing for the past hour.
"You can try, hyung," Yoongi replied monotonously, twirling his mug in his hands.
Taehyung stood just a few feet away from Seokjin. He knew the elder was constantly pushing himself and how much his role played a part in taking care of all of them.
Hell, they would have starved to death if Seokjin had not stepped up to cook for all of them almost every day.
For which, Taehyung was eternally grateful.
He remembered Namjoon telling him a few months back that Seokjin was the youngest in his family. And now he was thrust into a makeshift family where he had become the eldest.
Being an elder sibling came with its own responsibilities. Although Taehyung spent his entire childhood away from his siblings, he still cared for them in ways that only someone with younger siblings could understand.
So, Taehyung tried. He tried to help Jin whenever he could. He would silently wait near the kitchen whenever he cooked, maybe provide some funny anecdotes, and he always made sure to wash the dishes since he could never help with cooking. He always looked back at Jin to see if he was comfortable wherever he was.
And sometimes, when Taehyung did not know how to help, he could think of doing the only thing he considered himself good at:
Giving hugs.
Hugs make everything better, his halmeoni used to say.
And so, in his little quest for a whiff of happiness, he surged forward and wrapped his arms around Jin's torso from behind him, hands clutching the elder's stomach.
There.
That would fix it.
Except he did not take Seokjin's recent shoulder injury into account.
The next few minutes went the exact opposite of what Taehyung had planned.
His sudden hug startled Jin, who shrieked and moved his leg upwards, causing Yoongi's coffee to spill over him and Namjoon sitting beside the latter, resulting in a series of shouts, groans, and chaos.
"Ya, Taehyunga! What the hell?" Namjoon groaned before getting on his feet and assessing the damage.
Taehyung took a step back, his body freezing.
The coffee had spilled over all of their clothes. Yoongi's grey sweatpants had probably the most damage, while Namjoon's and Jin's jeans had a few blotches of the dark brown liquid staining quickly.
"These were my new sweats," Yoongi groaned. "Damn it, Taehyunga, what did you do?" Yoongi did not raise his voice but had a general tone of dissatisfaction.
"What is your problem, Taehyunga?" Jin yelled, fury marring his face. "Why can't you just behave normally? Why do you do such weird things?"
Taehyung's heart clenched. He had just wanted to help.
He looked down sheepishly and rubbed his palms on his shirt, his ears heating up and his throat dry.
"I—I'm sorry—I didn't mean to."
"Of course you didn't mean to!" Seokjin laughed condescendingly, shaking his head. "You never mean anything! You don't think, Taehyunga! You just do! For once in your life, stop being so annoying!"
You're annoying.
You can't be friends with us, weirdo.
"Mianhae," he whispered, not recognising his own voice. He moved back up.
"Mianhe won't cut it," Seokjin snapped. "You climb on other people, don't let people sleep in peace, eat in peace, or live in peace. And I don't know where you get so much energy from to do all this shit all day, every day. This is—"
"Jin hyung, he didn't mean it," Namjoon tried to intervene.
"Don't cut me off while I'm speaking, Namjoona," Seokjin shot back.
Jin rarely got angry, and when he did, it was like pots and pans falling at once.
Taehyung looked up through his lashes, his vision getting slightly blurry with the unshed tears, but someone soon blocked his way. He blinked, gulping harshly, willing his eyes to absorb the wetness back. When his vision cleared, Jeongguk stood in front of him, his stance almost defensive, his back muscles taut, almost shielding. Even Jeongguk didn't realise it, but Taehyung could gauge from his reflection in the mirror that he was ready to take the brunt of Jin's anger.
And had Taehyung been in the right state of mind, he would have pondered over it.
Whenever they were in trouble or caught red-handed sneaking out, Taehyung usually took the fall most of the time, all on himself.
It was a return of the favour, was all Taehyung could think of.
"Mianhae," Taehyung whispered again, his head hung low, his voice slightly trembling.
"It's alright, hyung," Yoongi's voice cut through, holding finality. "He didn't mean it. It was an accident."
"Yes, but he doesn't have to be so annoying every minute," Jin retorted back, taking a deep breath.
It was all about to calm down when Namjoon made the mistake of giving his opinion. "You need to be patient, hyungnim."
Taehyung saw the moment Seokjin's face twisted before he let out a hollow laugh.
"I need to be patient?" He sneered, pointing his index finger at himself. Namjoon face's was covered with regret.
"I have been nothing but patient these past months, Kim Namjoon! You, Yoongi, and Hoseok spend most nights at the studio, which I am sure is important, and we are grateful for the hard work you do. However, that leaves me as the unofficial caretaker of the supposed children!" His voice rose with every word. "I have cooked for them, made seaweed soup for their birthdays when they couldn't go home, and tended to them when they felt homesick. You don't play a part in any of this– even in the slightest! And sure– none of this is actually my job– I am here to debut– like the rest of you‐ I could not give give a single fuck about who ate what and who needs what but I do! I do because they are young and they deserve care but you do not get to tell me I need to be patient when they are in the wrong!"
Seokjin was panting by the end of it, glaring at their supposed leader, tension permeating the air so thick, a knife could cut through it.
"Okay. Time out," Hoseok stepped in. "We have to finish the choreography today. Take a breather everyone and—change—" he waved his hand in the general direction of Yoongi and Namjoon's pants. "Get back to practice in fifteen," he stated with finality.
Nobody argued with Hoseok in matters of choreography. Nobody had the guts. Taehyung felt Hoseok's hand on the nape of his neck, pulling him away from the carnage and leading him towards the loo, the tears on his cheek finally making their presence known.
Nobody argued with Hoseok in matters of choreography. Nobody had the guts. Taehyung felt Hoseok's hand on the nape of his neck, pulling him away from the carnage, the tears on his cheek finally making their presence known.
Taehyung stood in front of the mirror, wiping his cheeks with the back of his hands. Hoseok turned on the faucet, letting him splash water on his face, then put some tissues in front him. Taehyung took a deep breath, trying to calm the emotions spilling over, trying to put the mask back on. Nobody had to see him like this. Hoseok knowing was bad enough, but he wasn't the kind of guy who would use it against him, so ge allowed himself a few extra seconds of agony.
"He didn't mean it," Hoseok stated, leaning on the counter beside Taehyung, his back to the mirror. "It's just the stress getting to him, to everyone I suppose."
Taehyung nodded, dabbing his nose. "I understand," he acknowledged. He really did. It was not that easy handling three wild teenagers, and wild was putting it mildly.
"There are times when I feel like I should leave," Hoseok sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Quit this dream while I have the chance, cut my losses, y'know?
Taehyung's eyes widened, his feelings momentarily forgotten. He stared at Hoseok. "You'll leave?" He gasped, voice hoarse.
Hoseok let out a sad laugh. "I am not sure I will– but I do want to–"
"Wae?" Taehyung croaked. "You're brilliant, hyungnim– a hundred percent idol material."
Hoseok scrunched his eyebrows, his eyes glistening. "Ah, jinjja?"
Taehyung nodded. He wasn't lying. Hoseok was already a superstar according to Taehyung. He could dance the cleanest moves, his body moving with the lightness of air. He could rap, his beats and lyrics making their heads bop, and he could sing with great control over his pitch. It was triple kill.
And he could not handle Hoseok leaving. They might not be attached to hip like he was with Jeongguk, but Hoseok had an aura that calmed him whenever he was around.
"Whenever my friends from school, or friends of my parents ask me when will I debut–" Hoseok looked up at the ceiling. "It's like a knife to the heart," his voice trembled. "I always wanted to dance– my parents support me– I don't want to disappoint them."
Taehyung hummed. "Where did you learn to dance, hyungnim?" He mumbled, curiosity taking over.
Hoseok laughed softly. "I didn't learn a lot at the hagwon, the tuition fees were too high. During lessons, for the most part, I would just sit on the sofa, because I loved to dance so much– After hours, I would keep practicing on my own in the practice studios. The hyungs who taught me, especially this one dancer named Bangster, became a kind of teacher to me. He simply asked me if I wanted to dance with them at their studio and that's how I joined their dance team– Neuron, getting thrown in the midst of street dancing."
Taehyung smiled. "Bangster hyung is the one who came to visit you last week?"
"Ah dae," Hoseok smiled. "If it wasn't for him and the team, I don't think I would be here."
Taehyung pursed his lips. "You would be here," he cut him off.
"Mwo?" Hoseok raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a smile.
"You would be here because you are meant to be here," Taehyung spouted. Like a river flowing to the sea. Hoseok let out a breathy laugh, before nodding and checking the time. "If you say so," he said as he moved towards the door, holding it open for Taehyung to pass through.
"Will you really leave?" Taehyung asked just before they were about to enter.
Hoseok paused with a hand on the doorknob. He seemed to contemplate the possibilities before he answered. "I haven't decided yet," he confessed. "I don't know."
"Tell me–" Taehyung felt the back of his throat tighten. "Tell me before you leave."
Hoseok glanced over his shoulder, a doleful smile on his face. "Of course I will."
They returned to the studio to find Yoongi and Seokjin in a corner, whispering to each other. Seokjin moved his hands around, explaining something to the second eldest, while Yoongi crossed his arms and listened. Taehyung felt his guilt return. He truly did not mean to cause any harm.
Namjoon, Jimin, and Jeongguk sat on the floor, looking bored.
Hoseok clapped his hands making everybody get in position.
The music played and the tension dissipated into the sounds of shoes screeching on the wooden floor. They practised for another hour and walked into their dorm like the cast of The Walking Dead.
The turmoil in Taehyung's heart still raged on.
Stepping into the shower, the hot water soothed his aching muscles, but the muscle in his heart was not so easily satiated.
They retired to their room, the tension still lingering in the air but forgotten due to exhaustion.
Taehyung just wanted to be alone. Giving a wide, reassuring smile to Jeongguk, who was glancing at him with worry, he crawled into his bed, covering himself entirely with the duvet. His heart felt like a sack of bricks had been tied to it.
Kim Taehyung liked to surround himself with people, indulge in conversations, and hear people talk because when he was left alone, it was scary. It was frightening when it was only him and his thoughts, and he fell into a chasm of nothingness with them.
He had often wondered why people made fun of him or called him strange, he thought through many possibilities yet couldn't find an answer, couldn't understand why other people didn't see him the way his grandma did. She saw him through and through and accepted his galaxy of thoughts and ideas, his endless stories and theories, his hugs and cuddles and simply concluded everyone couldn't be like that.
He missed his grandmother. It had been painfully long since he had seen her. He missed how she made a small leaf flag for the mud castle he used to make in their backyard after the rains. He missed how she patiently sat on a wooden chair near the big oak tree, knitting or peeling vegetables, while Taehyung played in his imaginary land with kings and princes, swords and monsters. He missed how she gently fed him the apples she cut. He missed how she washed his hands before dinner, patiently listening to all his ramblings.
"Halmeoni?" A seven-year-old Taehyung sat on his grandmother's lap, opening his mouth for his grandmother to feed him the freshly harvested strawberries.
"Yes, pumpkin?"
"Is there something wrong with me?"
"Of course not, Taehyungie. Why do you ask?"
"The other kids in class laugh at me. They say that there's something wrong with me and that's why my parents sent me away."
"There's nothing wrong with you, pumpkin." She pinched the boy's cheek. "They laugh because they don't understand how someone could be so special."
"But Halmeoni, why did Appa and Eomma send me away?"
"Because your Halmeoni and Harabeoji asked them to." She smiled at the chubby face of her grandson. "Halmeoni and Harabeoji were sad about being alone, so we asked your Appa and Eomma to give us Taehyungie so that he could fill our hearts with happiness."
The old woman tucked in a stray strand of hair behind his ear, "You are our sun."
Taehyung's eyebrows furrowed, "But appa told me he is your son."
His grandmother laughed, filling Taehyung's heart to the brim. "Not that son, pumpkin. You are our sun, "she pointed towards the yellow orb in the sky. "Your love could warm even the coldest of hearts."
"Could it be my superpower?" The boy gasped.
"Definitely pumpkin."
"I am a superhero then halemoni."
"Yes you are, use your love to spend warmth Taehyungie, this world needs it," she said, placing a hand over his head gently. "There is no one quite like you."
"So I am special then?" The boy grinned.
"Yes, and someday someone will understand who you truly are."
But who?
Who will understand who I truly am?