Park Jimin?
"It says I died because of some guy named Park Jimin."
C@U$€ ØF Đ€@TH: PARK JIMIN
He was looking at you with worry dancing in his gaze while you took a shaky breath in unsure hesitance. He had noticed the sudden shift in atmosphere; the once happy and playful space between the two of you now one of fear and doubt. Your mind was confused and nothing made sense. A familiar pounding throbbed against your head as you tried to reach some conclusion or reassurance that you were wrong, but nothing came.
Unfortunately in your sudden mental state of distress, you spoke without thinking. Your thoughts became spoken aloud, and they were heard.
"B-But..." your voice shook as a cold chill swept down your spine and you had to stop yourself from shaking as you stared at him with wide eyes. "But, Park Jimin... that's the name that was on my 'cause of death' memory."
The only sounds then were those of the party that were thankfully loud enough to where the conversation between the two of you was private. You watched as at first his face morphed into one of shock, and then pure horror. He lightly dimmed this expression with fears still lingering in his eyes however as he laughed nervously and looked to you for reassurance.
"That's funny peanut, but not exactly something to joke about."
Your lack of words and serious expression made his worried smile fall as he took his own small step back and his fearful expression returned. There was no color or happiness to his face. All excitement from learning his name and dancing were gone.
He... killed you?! At first all your suspicions came rushing back, but before they could fully penetrate your mind and heart, a sort of dam went up to stop them. You weren't sure where this dam had come from, but it was sturdy and refused to allow any thoughts against he who was in front of you.
Wait. You shook your head in order to think more logically and clearly. There had to be a reasonable solution to this discovery. It had to be a coincidence. Pursing your lips, you focused in on theories and potential reasoning behind his name matching the reason of your death.
"Maybe it was another Park Jimin?" You lamely suggested, this automatically failing to serve as any reassurance as you realized how much of a coincidence this would be. Too much of one to exist. He didn't seem to be listening and continued to back up; looking rather ill and unwell as he began trembling lightly. "H-Hey," you stammered, trying to stop him from backing up but his eyes widening in fear when you approached him. "I'm not saying you killed me, let's not jump to that conclusion."
"But you just said-"
"I shouldn't have said it out loud, I mean... it did say my cause of death was Park Jimin, but it doesn't make any sense that's it's you so I shouldn't have brought it up." You were laughing nervously now as a sort of reassurance to yourself and him, but in both cases it wasn't working. His eyes seemed to darken as his lower lip trembled and he made eye contact with you.
"Why doesn't it make any sense? Do you remember the me I was when I was alive? Who's to say I didn't kill you?"
You were shocked at his sudden tone and looked at him with wide eyes. Was he serious?
"You aren't a murderer," you spoke in confidence, his thoughts far away and not focusing on your words. "You just aren't. I don't believe it. Besides, how would that make sense? Your number is below mine. You've been here longer than me. How could you kill me if you were already dead?"
Yeah. That confirmed it in itself, and you felt your tense body loosen slightly at your words. However, he didn't listen and immediately began backing up once more. Your face crumpled in confusion as to why he was acting so weird and you rushed forward to grab his wrist and stop him, much like he had always done to you in the past.
"H-Hey, wait," you stammered, he freezing at your touch as you grasped onto him tightly. "Don't go, we can figure this out."
"Figure what out?!" He spat, your scared eyes making his expression falter into one of guilt as he realized how harsh he had sounded without meaning to. "Look... I don't know how to explain this but..." he hesitated as he tried to find the right words and sighed. "This whole time, when I'm alone, when I'm lost in my thoughts... there's this feeling that doesn't go away. I have no memories to match it, but it's there. It's guilt. It's this feeling that I've done something terrible."
You looked at him with wide eyes at this new information as he shook his wrist out of your grip and lightly drew his tongue across his lower lip with a scared light not leaving his eyes.
"I was able to ignore it when I drank sins. I was able to ignore it when I was was with you. But it never really went away. And right now, what you're suggesting... it makes too much sense." His eyes flickered with conflict and horror. "I've done something terrible, I can feel it. And if that something is hurting you... no, not just that. Killing you. I don't know if I could live with myself."
You froze, falling silent at his words and trying to conjure any words of reassurance. Apparently that wasn't your specialty.
"Um... well, technically you aren't living with yourself persay," you tried to joke with a weak and nervous expression, not knowing what else to say. He looked at you incredulously and whirled around; moving so quickly that you were stunned as he tried to get away from you with you trailing behind. He was leaving. Your heart was racing as you realized he was getting away and sudden desperation led you to call out to him in order to stop his retreat.
"J-Jimin!" You called, he stopping only briefly upon hearing his name at the exit of the bar. You breathed out in relief when he stopped, but it was short lived.
"Don't call me that." Was all he said, the words hard to hear among the music and clatter of dishes. You heard it clearly though regardless of this, and your heart sank in horror when he disappeared. You didn't even have the strength or means to run after him.
Instead you stayed frozen; staring at where he had just been before realizing all the eyes that were on you. Although people hadn't been able to make out your conversation, it was clear to see that the other gold tiers had just stared at the two of you and the scene you had made. 28's eyes glinted smugly, and you looked away in order to shakily walk back to your table.
You needed time to think. You needed answers that were almost impossible to obtain. The table still held 62's... or rather Jimin's... camera and the picture the two of you had taken only 10 minutes prior. You gripped onto it and noticed the way your hands trembled as you realized how happy the two of you looked.
If only you had kept your mouth shut. There were so many things you didn't know while in the Between, but if there was one thing you were sure of, it was that Park Jimin wasn't a murderer. He couldn't be. You just needed a little more proof. All you had so far was that his number was lower, but for some reason that hadn't been enough for him.
It was enough for you... so why was he so sure he had killed you? Apparently he had been haunted by feelings of guilt and you swallowed hard when you recalled his fearful and broken expression. Thoughts and feelings had swarmed his head under the news of his name matching your memory that he hadn't been able to handle. You didn't even know what to think about this and gnawed at your lower lip before freezing.
There it was, the cold that flooded your bones upon a familiar presence approaching you. You knew the ringmaster was next to you without he even having to say anything.
"Enjoying the party, 79?" His voice spoke in an eerie tone; you having to stiffen in order to stop your feet from running away. No. You weren't enjoying the party. And he seemed to know this fact, not able to display a smile but you feeling as if he might if he could.
You were terrified like usual, and you realized that for the first time you were facing the ringmaster without Jimin by your side. He clearly noted this as well.
"I-I..." Your throat went dry and you brought a hand up to your neck as you tried to back up. You found there was nothing you could say. Then in the chills, you finally realized something. He knew. He had to know. He knew Jimin was the name on your memory... he knew Jimin and you had some sort of previous affiliation. He was the one that made the two of you dance partners.
And he knew what he had been doing all along. The question was... why? Suddenly your fears were gone, because although you were terrified of the ringmaster, something that had always burned stronger within you than such emotions was your curiosity.
Now your curiosity was fueled with slight anger. Why was he doing this to you?! Why was he doing this to Jimin?!
Why was he lying?!
"Y-Your memories are lies," you spat suddenly; mind remembering all the times your coworkers had spoken out against the memories in frustration. Now you agreed with them. All memories did for the Between was drive people into despair and madness. You weren't afraid to stand up to the ringmaster about this fact and didn't even care if your number would be jumped under the sudden burst of brave energy.
At first, your statement seemed to take him off guard. It was only for a moment however as his form loosened and a hearty chuckle erupted like a dark echo as he crossed his arms.
"Are they really? And you know this how?"
You were shaking, and you didn't have an answer. He seemed to anticipate one, but you said nothing. At this he hummed as if he was expecting more.
"You're honestly disappointing," he noted, the void darkening where his head should be and your heart stopping. "I thought maybe there would be more to you and your claim, and yet you say nothing. Tell me 79, are you really so sure the memories are wrong? Or have you become blinded due to your feelings for your own killer?"
You froze, angry determination gone as your eyes widened.
"W-What?" You stammered, looking down at the picture in your hand briefly before flickering your eyes back up to he that had made such a bold claim. Feelings? It took you off guard, but soon you were back and you narrowed your eyes. You were sure now, he was playing with your head.
And he had just confirmed he knew Jimin was the cause behind your death according to the memory.
"Why are you doing this?!" You hissed, distress practically causing tears to perk at your eyes. He silently watched you before he once again tisked as if he was disappointed.
"I enjoyed your performance 79," he noted off-handedly, completely avoiding your question and waving his gloved hands as if to brush it off. All it took was a blink on your end for his form to disappear, and fear laced itself in both your heart and wide teary eyes as you were able to hear whispers as if he were still there. "I'll be watching. I look forward to seeing you on stage again."
~~~
You were laying face down on your bed, deep in thought after changing out of your dress and into your pajamas. You couldn't shake the cold flooding your body or the shivers against your spine as your heartbeat refused to silence.
So much had happened all at once to the point where your body could barely keep up. You groaned a bit as another ache graced your head and for what must have been the millionth time, the name Park Jimin passed through your mind. Every emotion that came with that name kept you from properly resting, no mater how badly you clearly needed it.
OK... so your dance partner was apparently your killer. Maybe it was you who was the idiot for not running away from him and fearing his presence, or in the very least becoming angry with he who had ended your life. But you had meant what you had said to him the first day the two of you had hung out. With no previous life to remember, you had little to no feelings of remorse or cares towards your own demise. It was too late anyway. What did it matter?
Even in these thoughts however, your brain still refused to even admit that Park Jimin and 62 were the same person, or in the very least, that he was responsible for your death. It just didn't make any sense.
You stiffened when you remembered the words of the ringmaster and rolled onto your back so you could allow your fingers to nervously play with the hem of your pajama shirt. Why were you so sure? Why didn't you care?
Feelings?
You bit your lower lip and narrowed your eyes as you stared at the dark ceiling. Yes you had feelings. You had feelings of fear, you had feelings of worry, and you had feelings of trust. You had a lot of feelings, and they had come when you realized you could see the genuine lights in 62's eyes. Maybe it came from having to look into them, but you could tell now that beyond his teasing and flirting, he had strong emotions flooding his gaze.
Loneliness, eagerness, and guilt, whatever it was, you had sworn to cure them. And now, maybe finding answers would be the only way to do this.
You clutched tightly onto the sheets of your bed as you realized finally there were no longer conflicts in your interests. Your desire to help your friend and your own wanting to find answers behind the Between were blurring to where you now saw the importance in both.
How could you have been so blind?!
They went hand in hand.
Distracted by the ringmaster's deal, you had forgotten what was truly important. It wasn't dancing for memories, it was answers. Answers that would finally either make you feel secure or confirm that you had to save yourself and those you cared about. And now, these answers might help the person you determined you cared about most of all, as embarrassing as it was to admit.
So yeah, maybe you did have feelings. Not in the way of how the ringmaster had insinuated, but in the sense of how you longed to help he who meant more to you than you were able to admit after the 26 days spent close by his side. It wasn't even that long of a time, but time was something precious to the Between, and the time you had spent with him felt precious to you.
You wondered where he was and what he was doing. You worried, and you placed your hands across your stomach as you remembered how genuinely broken and terrified he looked after hearing that he was supposedly behind your death.
How dark his eyes had grown upon questioning how you knew he wasn't a killer and admitting that along with loneliness, haunting feelings of guilt had swarmed him in his entirety in the Between. And that it had finally all made sense.
You wanted him to be OK, but you knew you couldn't approach him. Not yet anyway. 62... or, Jimin... had a hard time both listening to things that had no backing or understanding wistful thinking. He was a structured person that valued what he had been told to value.
He was a dancer. He followed the rules of the Between. He wanted his memories, and he believed them. So of course he would believe it if they told him he was a murderer.
You on the other hand were so unsure of yourself or anything that you had practically driven yourself into madness. Now your madness was going to get you somewhere, and you were determined to get proof. Jimin would listen if you had proof, wouldn't he? He'd calm down and not have eyes filled with hate for himself, right?
Then you could take a picture with him again and he would look happy. The picture would replace the memory you now had of him looking so utterly broken and running away from you, fearful of his unseen past and former self.
You swallowed hard and studied the picture you still held in one of your hands of the two of you at the party, right before things had gone to hell. You both looked happy in it, and as you studied it you realized that Jimin looked rather... nice. You had known this of course and had even seen him up close, but you found yourself studying his cute and somehow soft but sharp features before tearing your eyes away with heat flooding your face and throwing the picture casually to the side.
Tell me 79, are you really so sure the memories are wrong? Or have you become blinded due to your feelings for your own killer?
You tossed your head in irritation and pulled your legs over the side of the bed; standing and trying to forget your thoughts before narrowing in on what you should do next. You needed someone to talk to. Someone that would give you good advice.
It took only a moment of hesitation before you snapped your fingers upon coming to a conclusion. 19. He would help you.
Hoping maybe he would be sitting on the bench outside, you made your way down to the empty, dark, and dirty lobby before pushing the door to allow you outside. The cold air greeted you, but your face fell in disappointment when 19 did not. He wasn't there.
Knowing they would have finished cleaning the truck hours ago, he couldn't be there either. Maybe he was already asleep or in his room?
Not knowing what else to do, you found that you had to give up and head back inside, disappointment pulling at your body as the adrenaline slowly wore off. Maybe this was a sign that you should just go to bed.
But was Jimin in bed? Was he sleeping, or even at peace at all? You weren't sure and you hated not knowing. You bit your lower lip, weighing the option of just running behind the curtain right then.
It was a horrible idea, but you still allowed it to cross your mind as you entered your floor and paused in hesitance. Shaking your head, you determined you needed a better plan of action that wasn't just running full steam ahead into unknown territory.
You continued walking to your room but froze when you suddenly heard one of the other doors in the hall creek open.
For a split second, fear coarsed through you. It was soon replaced with excitement however when you realized the door that had opened may have been 19's.
You whirled around to see, but who greeted you both wasn't something fearful and certainly wasn't 19. It was 52, and he looked rather cranky as he sleepily rubbed his eyes while peering out into the hallway.
"Hey, kid, what the heck are you doing stomping around?!" He complained, you immediately withering in disappointment and rolling your eyes at he that wasn't 19. "Don't you know these walls are paper thin?"
It was true. They were. In the bronze apartments, you could often hear things from every room in the hall, and it was very unsettling.
"Sorry," you spoke with a sigh, then looked at him with wide eyes as you figured maybe he knew where 19 was. "Hey by the way, where's 19? Is he already in his room?"
52 walked a bit further into the hall so the two of you could better have a conversation.
"Nope. He went out somewhere like usual. Not sure where. He's old, and sometimes likes to sit on the bench outside and stare at the sky while doing the weird tapping thing the two of you are so obsessed with. Did you check there?"
"Yeah," you spoke, pursing your lips in confusion. "I already checked."
So no one knew where he was? Should you be alarmed? 52 simply shrugged and stretched a bit.
"Eh, it's alright. He goes missing a lot, so don't worry so much. It's what happens when you're a senile old man." He smirked at his own joke before realizing your serious expression. "What do you need him for anyway?"
You abruptly shook your head and tried to wave off the importance of the situation, not really wanting to get 52 involved.
"Oh, it's nothing. I just wanted some advice I guess. Anyway, see you tomorrow." You tried to walk back to your room, but you were abruptly called back and forced to stop when 52 spoke up.
"Hold it," he called, you having to turn back around to see his narrowed eyes. He crossed his arms and glared at you a bit, you meeting his expression with confused eyes and a tilted head. "Why do you only ever talk to him? Why not ask me for advice, huh?"
Oh. Finding his statement odd, you scoffed and stuck your tongue out at him.
"Whatever baldy, like you could give good advice," you roasted with slight glee, purposefully trying to get under his skin like you always did at the truck. He immediately fumed.
"I have hair!"
"Facial hair doesn't count," you countered, feeling rather smug before he growled.
"I can give advice. Let me hear it, what's the problem?"
You were about to tease him once more, but stopped when you saw the seriousness in his eyes. You did need someone to talk to... and although 52 was a bit gruff, at times you found his complaints of the Between intriguing. Maybe he would be a good person to talk to. But you couldn't let him know exactly what was going on, for the sake of privacy.
Thankfully he wasn't exceedingly intelligent and probably wouldn't catch on.
"Alright," you finally gave in in hesitation, tapping your foot on the floor as you tried to phrase the situation in a vague manner. "OK so... hypothetically speaking... what would you do if you had a friend, and you cared about them a lot. They were probably your best friend really. Then one day, you find out that they did something really terrible to you. What would you do?"
"Cut them out of my life," he spoke up immediately, your eyes going wide.
"W-What?"
"I wouldn't even give them time to explain. You hurt me, you're out. You don't need untrustworthy people close to you."
You were still in shock for a moment before you fumed a bit and crossed your arms.
"T-That's horrible advice!"
You were about to straight up leave, then you calmed when you realized how biased you were on the matter without even meaning to be. After making eye contact with the man, you realized you were asking the wrong questions. Never ask men about feelings apparently. Instead, there was something else he had once mentioned that had never ceased to fade from your mind.
"No good memories! It's always like that! Sure, some things are straight forward, but when it comes down to the one's that matter, they're always vague. Don't you think enough is confusing as it is?! Why can't they just tell us how it is straight. We don't know anything, so receiving more riddles is cruel."
"Um, actually I have another question for you," you piped up, he looking at you with a sternness in his gaze after hearing your criticism. "It's about memories..."
"Your memories are lies!"
"Do you think they're real? You once mentioned that they're like riddles... I guess I'm just curious. How do you feel about them?"
You watched as 52's face morphed into one of slight pain and exhaustion at the mention of memories. He sighed.
"When I first came here and knew nothing, just like everyone else, I was obsessed with the idea of filling my head back with the knowledge of my life. I thought it would help fill the emptiness inside me and I was addicted to the idea. So, I applied to work." He grew slightly angry and your eyes widened as you listened to him speak. "I got stuck as a bronze in that stupid truck. They told me it would be alright, and that I would still earn memories. It didn't take me long to realize how pointless that was. I earned memories, and the more I earned, the worse I felt. Those stupid one word answers, telling me unimportant things, telling me I was alone. How can anyone be alone?! Did I really have no friends, no family?!"
You watched in horror as he broke a bit, and you didn't know what to do under this new heartbreaking information. He noticed your expression and immediately softened, guilt flooding his eyes as he realized what he had said.
"But no matter how much you want answers, one word is never going to give them to you. Do you get it? I guess what I'm trying to say is this. How can one word define an entire memory?"
For a moment, you were frozen. Then it all came crashing in. All it took was this phrase for a wave of realization to hit you like a truck, and your eyes widened as your hands lightly shook. Your mind wasn't able to fully catch up, but somehow your heart felt as if for the first time in the Between, you were finally getting somewhere.
You parted your lips to speak, but the sudden opening of a door made both of you whirl around.
"Hey! Can you two shut up?! People are trying to sleep," 25 complained, and you bowed in apology while 52 rolled his eyes. He slammed the door shut and you turned back to 52 to see him retreating back to his room. You wanted to talk to him still, but he was already closing the door.
"Sleep well kid," he spoke simply, "Hope I helped at least a little."
He had helped more than he was able to realize. He was gone, but your head was still spinning as you slowly made your way back to your room. You felt so close to an answer, and surprisingly all it took was entering your room and looking at your bed to get to it.
Sitting on the covers was the stuffed pink cat Jimin had gifted you. The sight of it brought a flood of memories, and your eyes widened when realization hit.
"I was confused at first too, but I guess I don't really have a favorite animal. I must have liked a lot of different ones, so I keep getting new ones every time I open the boxes."
"How can one word determine an entire memory?"
Jimin's stuffed animals. Somehow even though there should have been only one, he received many different ones. How could this be possible? The answer was simple, Jimin had liked many animals. Looking at it in this way... how could anything you learned about yourself be valid or all there was? That was the answer. That was what you needed to do, and suddenly you recalled a way to get to it fast.
You had made a deal, and while your side had been fulfilled, one side still hadn't.
~~~
"The ringmaster," you spoke in a rushed voice with a pant, standing in front of the help desk and the tired looking silver tier that had been put on third shift for the night. She looked at you and blinked slowly in confusion at your simple statement before lifting an eyebrow.
"Sorry hun, what?" She spoke, as if your statement hadn't been self explanatory.
"The ringmaster! I need to see him, please!" You explained more thoroughly, not having time for such things. You had rushed there almost instantly and hadn't even bothered putting on shoes. You were standing at the help desk in pajamas desperately trying to find a way to see the ringmaster.
You had hesitated only slightly upon the fear of facing him again, but you had quickly been able to brush it off. You weren't scared anymore, you just wanted answers. Not just for your sake, but for Jimin's and even your coworkers.
The silver tier clearly wasn't in the same rush you were and propped her chin on her hand to get a better look at you.
"Is something wrong?"
You hesitated.
"Well... no, not exactly."
"Then what needs to be brought up with the ringmaster? I can't call him up for nothing you know. Maybe I can schedule you an appointment?" She looked irritated with you and this alone brought out your own irritation with her. You grit your teeth for a moment before allowing yourself to think. An idea popped up in your head, and you hurriedly allowed the words to rush from your lips.
"Actually, I already have an appointment," you informed her. "That's why I need to see him."
You watched as she skeptically looked at you before sighing.
"Alright. One moment."
You watched as she began dialing on what seemed to be an old timey telephone. Bringing the phone up to her ear, she pursed her lips while waiting for the call to go through. When it did, she straightened her spine.
"Hello sir, there seems to be a number claiming they have an appointment with you."
There was a pause, and you waited with anxiety sending shivers down your body while she eyed the number on your neck.
"Oh, her number is 79." She spoke, indicating that he had questioned who it was requesting a meeting with him in the middle of the night. Another pause followed, and you watched as the woman's eyes widened.
"Of course. Right away, sir," she said before hurriedly hanging up. Now she was addressing the situation with urgency. "Alright, the ringmaster wants to speak to you right away. You can meet him in one of the offices. It doesn't matter which one, they're all empty. When you get to one, ring the bell on the desk. Got it? Do you know where the office building is?"
You nodded quickly, mind recalling your first day and where they had pulled you to meet with Chloe.
"Thanks," you spoke quickly, leaving the silver tier to her night work as you took off towards the office buildings.
They were close by so getting there didn't take much time. You entered and allowed the door to close behind you, swallowing hard when you realized how dark the office building was.
"Scared of the dark, peanut?"
"I'm not scared," you spoke to no one in particular, a soft smile even perking at your lips recalling the familiar teasing. With this you found yourself moving forward into the long hallway filled with doors that led to small offices.
You entered the first one you saw and breathed out in relief upon spotting a lamp lit up on the desk. The room was like a distant memory as you noticed the familiar sight of the creepy room.
Shadows seemed to move against the walls and the odd clock ticked off beat. Now at least you knew the clock was speaking the same word over and over again. MINUTE. You still didn't know what this meant and swallowed hard upon taking a seat in front of the desk.
It was terrifying being alone in that room. Following the silver tier's orders, you allowed your hand to reach for the bell sitting on the desk and you quickly rang it.
At first nothing happened. Then you jumped, because without you even realizing it the ringmaster had appeared on the other side of the desk in front of you.
Your fearful action made him chuckle, and you gripped your chest at the heart attack you had almost had.
"What's wrong, I thought you were brave now? Scared again?"
"I'm not scared," you spoke pointedly, wanting to get right into business and shaking off the fear.
"Oh?" He leaned back in his chair and propped his feet on the desk. "Alright then. Tell me, why does 79 want to see me in the middle of the night?"
You took a deep breath before straightening your posture.
"I'm here for my memory. You know, the one you promised me if I danced?"
It seemed as if maybe for a moment you had caught him off guard. Maybe he hadn't expected it. But soon he had recovered and was bringing his feet back down in order to rest his elbows on the desk instead.
"Of course of course!" His voice rang out, showmanship never faltering even when the two of you were alone. "I believe I promised you any memory! So, what is it that you want? I'm not going to lie, I'm very eager to hear your choice."
You weren't entranced with his spectacle and narrowed your eyes.
"Well, I'm assuming you aren't going to tell me what I want straight up. If I were to ask you what relation I had with Park Jimin, it could blow up in my face. Why? Because although your memories may or may not be true, they're riddles. Riddles in the sense of vagueness."
The ringmaster listened intently and you swallowed hard.
"I know what memory I want. I've given it a lot of thought."
"I can see you have."
The shadows on the walls seemed to stop moving with the suspense you were causing. Somehow, you couldn't help but smile. Finally, it felt like you were the one running the show.
A buzzing filled your ears before you parted your lips to speak. You were confident.
"I'd like the memory, 'cause of death'."
Silence filled the room like a thick blanket of darkness. The ticking of the clock had a rhythm to it that almost matched your heartbeat as you sat in anticipation before the ringmaster began laughing. He laughed as if you had just told him something hilarious.
"Finally!" He spoke exuberantly, and you thought maybe you saw him smirk even though his face was as formless as a shadow. "Finally, now things are interesting."