• No one's POV •
Taehyung was late, which wasn't like him at all. He liked to be on time if not early, but he had stayed up far too late last night working on his art and slept through his alarm. But he had finally done it, he finished the work he was doing for months! It was perfect, and he couldn't be more proud of it.
He had woken to phone calls from Yoongi and Jimin, both demanding to know where the hell he was at this hour. He had apologised quickly, dressing somewhat haphazardly before running out the door. He had a meeting with a record company, not to mention tracks to finish mixing before tomorrow. There were deadlines that he had somehow forgotten about, and had a weeks worth of work to do in only one day.
The first thing he needed to do was make some phone calls, apologise for not showing up to a recording session, and reply to an angry email from Namjoon who wanted to know why he had been ignored for the last week– he had resorted to email only because the younger wasn't replying to texts or calls.
He skipped breakfast in his rush out the door, and he blamed this for the weird feeling he had as he walked to the train station. He stopped for coffee, hoping it would get his head out of the fog it was in, and was halfway through drinking it and texting a client back when he heard a scream.
He looked up, but it was too late. "Leave it to me to forget what I'm doing and walk across the cross-walk while it says stop." He thought before everything went dark.
After that, there were brief flashes of memories, of paramedics kneeling over him, someone telling him to stay conscious, a voice saying "he's lost a lot of blood" and then back to darkness.