SEA - ORCHESTRAL ARRANGEMENT
BTS
TWO WEEKS LATER.
The February wind nips at the bare skin of Jeongguk's face as he steps out of Hoseok's bright yellow beetle. Jeongguk had made a comment earlier on how the color of the car reflected Hoseok's personality. He waves at Hoseok as he drives away, and the radiant smile that occupies his lips as bright as the yellow paint. Hoseok is leaving Seoul to teach a master dance class, and he refused to let Jeongguk walk to work in the bitter chill, so he picked him up and dropped him off at the EatJin cafe on his way. Jeongguk hates riding in cars, but he couldn't deny Hoseok's kindness.
The bell dings as he enters, and Seokjin tuts at him from behind the counter. "You're three minutes and forty seven seconds late. Shame on you." Rather than apologizing sincerely, a smile cracks on Jeongguk's face.
"Fire me, sir." He jokes, and Seokjin laughs. Hanging out with the six men he can now call his friends has begun to change his sense of humor, primarily due to the use of sarcasm he's been exposed to. The majority of the sarcasm, though, stems from Yoongi. Seokjin is still laughing by the time Jeongguk ties his apron around his neck and waist. He's not used to this new and improved version of Jeongguk his friends created. Sure, Jeongguk still says old-fashioned sayings and blushes any time a sexual innuendo is made, but he's less of a metaphorical deer in life's headlights.
"Just go turn on the percolator. Kids these days." He mumbles, and Jeongguk grins to himself. He's tired, from mastering the art of video games with Hoseok late into the night, and from his neverending supply of bad dreams that come after that, but even later than that—most of all, he's tired from talking to Haneul over the phone in the dwindling night hours, the luminescent glow of the stars mere minutes from giving way to the first rays of sun. He's tired, but now, it's because he chooses to be awake. This is a happy tired, one that he willingly inflicts on himself three times a week just for the chance to hear her voice that sounds like the audible equivalent of honey—smooth and saccharine sweet and sticky to the point that Jeongguk can't quite wash it off.
It sticks with him all day, and he finds himself smiling at the thought of it, never allowing himself to be discouraged when he spills coffee on his shoes or when a customer is rude. He finds himself longing for the phone to ring, though he knows it won't, considering it's daytime and Haneul is on her shift at the hospital and he'll have to utilize his last bits of patience to wait until their late night conversation.
Or at least, he thought he knew that his phone wouldn't ring during the day.
But come 5:30, as Jeongguk sweeps up behind the counter of the café, his phone begins to buzz in his back pocket. His heart skips a beat as he pulls it out, expecting to see six familiar letters arranged into one of his favorite names—but instead, two words take Haneul's place. Unknown Caller. Jeongguk squints at it, briefly contemplating who could be calling him. He has the numbers of the few people who communicate with him over the phone saved. Nevertheless, Jeongguk hits the green button and raises the phone to his ear. "Hello?" He asks curiously.
"Hello, is this Jeon Jeongguk?" A female voice asks. Jeongguk nods, waiting for a response before realizing the woman can't see him.
"Yes. To whom am I speaking?" He asks.
"This is Bumin General Hospital, we're calling inquiring about a friend of yours. Please take a seat, this is some very startling information." Jeongguk does as told, a sinking feeling hollowing out his stomach.
"What is wrong?" He asks quietly. His first thought is Haneul—she works in the hospital. All he can do is pray she's okay, plead whatever higher power that might be real that nothing harmed her.
"Mr. Jeon, you are an emergency contact in Jung Hoseok's phone. He has been shot."
•••
Jeongguk stares anxiously at the speedometer of Seokjin's car. Cars always freak him out, and the speed Seokjin is going on the highway isn't helping. He tries to find comfort in the fact that the faster they go, the quicker they'll be with Hoseok.
The car is silent, though both men's minds are racing with loud thoughts and painful emotions. Jeongguk had dropped his phone on the café floor in shock before hurriedly collecting it. The hospital receptionist informed him that Hoseok has been shot in the side in a random shooting as he was walking out of the studio he was teaching a class at. She told him that he's alive, but barely. Jeongguk's heart breaks at the thought of Hoseok—all hooked up to whatever newfangled medical contraptions in the ICU, the ghost of his blindingly bright smile imprinted into Jeongguk's memory the only evidence of the joy the unconscious man typically has.
He doesn't remember what was said or what he and Seokjin did—the panic that plagued him blurred everything too much. All he remembers is the blood draining from Seokjin's face, both of their tears staining their cheeks, Seokjin's strained voice as he called Namjoon, and the slamming of cardoors. Jeongguk finds it in himself to be thankful that Seokjin can drive, unable to imagine how difficult getting to Bumin Hospital would be with no car. He loses track of how long they've been in the car, eyes constantly trained on the dial indicating the car's speed, until the car stops abruptly. Jeongguk jerks forward as he watches the dial move down to zero. Jeongguk looks up to see a tall, large building in front of them, and Seokjin already up and out of the car.
Jeongguk scrambles out of the car and runs after Seokjin, who is already running. They careen through the automatic doors of the hospital and skid to a stop in front of the receptionist's desk. The sterile smell of hospital stings Jeongguk's nose, and Seokjin's voice asking for Hoseok is muffled and far away. It has been hundreds of years since Jeongguk has been in a hospital, and the last one he had been in was not nearly so modern. The overstimulation of this whole experience left him struggling to process as he let Seokjin lead him through the hospital halls.
The second they turn into a room and see the weak, feeble form of the vibrant and vivid man that Jeongguk just saw this morning laying in bed and connected to a handful of beeping machines, Jeongguk's mind stops even trying to process the culture shock. All he can think of it the pale boy with the bright red hair that makes his complexion only look even more dull. A shaky gasp leaves his lips as he rushes to Hoseok's bedside, delicately picking his hand up and interlacing his own fingers through Hoseok's limp ones. All he wants is to squeeze Hoseok's hand as tight as he can, let his unconscious best friend know that he's here, but he's too afraid he'll hurt him. The tears that stream from his eyes drip down onto his skin, slipping through the junctures between his and Hobi's hands.
"Hobi." He murmurs, kneeling next to his bedside. He feels Seokjin's hand on his shoulder and leans into him, sobbing freely now. "My dear Hobi."
"Excuse me." A deep voice sounds from the door. Jeongguk looks at the source through his tears, and recognizes the familiar uniform of a policeman. "Are you Jung Hoseok's emergency contact?" Seokjin pulls Jeongguk to his feet, giving him a reassuring look. He clears his throat, wiping at his face self-consciously.
"I am, sir." He says, approaching the officer carefully.
"I apologize for the timing, but it is completely urgent that I ask you a few questions. Is that all right?" He says, and his eyes are full of sympathy. Jeongguk nods silently, trying to get his mind together enough to process. "All right." The officer pulls out his phone and turns it to face Jeongguk. "This is the CCTV footage we have of the crime. I apologize for how graphic it is, but it is our only clear picture of the shooter." He says, before pressing play. Jeongguk and Seokjin watch obediently, despite not wanting to. For a moment, the scene on screen is normal, but then a door opens and out walks Hoseok and—
"Oh, God—" Seokjin clamps his hand over his mouth as Jeongguk's mouth goes dry, tears pricking the back of his eyes once more. Seokjin excuses himself to go to the bathroom, and Jeongguk knows it's because his stomach is churning with nausea. The officer pauses the video and points at the man wearing a baseball cap, gun in his left hand. Face angled just enough that it isn't shaded from the CCTV camera's view—Jeongguk's blood runs cold and his stomach does backflips and he thinks he might vomit and piss himself all at once.
It can't be.
oop a cliffhanger
poor hoseokieee
y'all think this is bad just WAIT till next chapter
edited 05/08/20