It's been ten minutes. Ten minutes since Jimin has been touched and violated. The cluster of people surrounding the dressing room doesn't help as he reflects on the way Kai's hand fiddled down his body as if he's some sort of instrument. He just can't seem to shake the feeling of the man's fingertips dimpling his skin, running along the most intimate part of his body. He's never felt more filthy than he does now as the ghost of his lingering touch is still yet very present.
Some people are bombarding him with questions, all pertinent to Taehyung's sudden outburst and some people are taking pictures of him simply because he's a man wearing lingerie. They have no respect for his privacy nor do they have any for Taehyung's, for that matter. Any other news story would appear as though a mere dollop in light of a new, much more riveting scandal as the same teacher from prior is yet again involved. He supposes the news reporters who interrogated him previously are going to have fun with this one.
And Jimin doesn't even realize it but Taehyung is ushering people away - well, as many as he possibly can being the only person present with some sensibility. Before the teacher knows it, the scene has flooded with a good handful of police officers.
The insatiable camera flashes as well as babbles come to a stop as they're all escorted out of the store - a very few remaining for the sake of questioning, the teacher concludes.
Jimin is still sitting in the exact same position he's been in ever since he dropped to the floor, heavy. His groin is covered however the rest of his immodesty is visible. All life in his eyes have perished. His expression is stone cold - chapped lips pulled at the corners into a flat line. His blond hair is rustled, askew on his head as a result of his constant disobedience in Kai's grasp. He struggled for as long as he possibly could until his joints protested against the strenuous actions and very soon exhaustion had befallen him.
Fighting for his pride - for his life. He never really understood how taxing it was just to simply feel the potential yet distant richness of freedom. Many people take it for granted and he has learned the hard way that he too should have appreciated it when he had the chance. But of course nobody's aware of the moment they're going to have everything ripped away from them in mere seconds. However in his defense, and every other victim's, it shouldn't have to be a thought. It shouldn't have to be a when and how. It should be a never.
For the first time in fifteen minutes, Jimin looks up to find Jeongguk standing in the doorway of the dressing room, appalled. His uneven lips are parted to show the rapt extent of his horror. His brows are raised and his eyes have widened in size. His brown hair is a tangled mess and his cheeks are tinted cherry blossom pink - perhaps from running a measurable distance. The man is dressed in his uniform, much like the rest of the policemen standing before him. So how on earth does he not feel safe anymore?
"Jimin," Jeongguk starts and takes a step forward. The blond is doing okay for now.
However the moment Jeongguk crouches down and reaches out, Jimin reads his hand as some sort of weapon. With a loud, heartbreaking cry of protest he coils into himself and hides his swollen face in his knees, terrified.
Jeongguk jolts and stands up, taking a step back. He's frowning heavily and not only is it accompanied by the feeling of sadness and remorse but anger and frustration. Somehow the conflict runs much deeper and he feels responsible for whatever happened to Jimin - he doesn't know much of a thing yet and neither does anyone else because the teacher hasn't necessarily said anything. In any case the scene splayed out before him is heartbreaking as Jimin's body trembles like a feather falling from the sky. It's soft however the rapidly changing rythm of his body is jarring.
"J-Jeongguk," the man suddenly lips against a single knee as he reveals his distraught face, still staring straight ahead and at a wall.
Jeongguk is still looking at the teacher, meanwhile the other policemen in the force cast their gaze to the only Officer who has been able to get close enough to see the man's complexion.
"P-please... J-just Officer J-Jeon," Jimin mutters to the near point of incoherence.
In a situation like this, Jeongguk would rather be of confidence and showcase unstirred emotion. But he simply can't. The cause behind Jimin's current state is still unknown. Working cases specifically in the organized crime unit, Officer Jeon is used to being faced with the undisclosed and preens at the idea of debunking a case. Yet today - Jimin's present situation - has him terrified.
Jeongguk doesn't realize the other officers were in the midst of moving until he can hear the dressing room door close behind him. It's a sound so simple and demure yet it encourages his heart rate to pick up as it's just the two of them within a confined, small space. Officer Jeon doesn't move from the place he stands, if Jimin's earlier reaction is any indication that he should keep some distance.
Jimin unfurls himself from his small ball. He presses his fingers to his lips and eases them inside of his mouth, teeth sinking down onto his nails as he chews them nervously. His stare is barren and it's with clear evidence he's trying to recollect his thoughts that have gone and scattered themselves. He's shivering and whether or not it be from the cold, Jeongguk slowly peels his policeman jacket off of his arms and kicks it to the teacher.
Jimin's gaze wanders to the tempting fabric laying on the floor. His fingers move from his mouth and curl around it feebly and he pulls it over his legs, hands stuttering amidst the settling of the jacket.
Jeongguk finds some semblance of peace in such a subtle movement. He slides against the wall across from Jimin yet remains the silently declared distance. He has an inkling as to what happened as he picks up on the hints. He's dealt with cases like these before. But he doesn't want to believe it. It causes his insides to swirl and shift at the thought.
"Gguk," the man chokes out.
Unequivocally, Jeongguk feels his heart pang at the innocent nickname rolling off of the desolate man's tongue. Jimin is now looking at him. They've finally gotten the chance to look at each other.
Jimin is hesitant to speak his next words. Most of all he's been able to project with some sort of foundation is the policeman's name. The blond is fiddling with his fingers, toying with them rather clumsily as he attempts to distract himself. It's painful as Jeongguk watches him yet is unable to reach out and comfort him like he's gotten so used to. The conflicting look in his waning eyes as another tear trickles down his doughy cheek to leave a damp splatter along the man's uniform jacket.
"The m-monsters..." he whispers quietly, voice broken and spent. "They're so l-loud."
Jeongguk is unable to express the words he feels as those strung along letters roll off of Jimin's tongue. It doesn't take an expert to know what he's referring to. Officer Jeon has come to learn over the years of his profession that thoughts can be a very, very dangerous and disruptive thing. They're like dripping venom slowly travelling all throughout the pumping veins of a body until they've consumed it completely. Until they control the victim and they're the puppet being played with by a puppet master. The only issue being is that somehow it's strong enough the person is playing both parts. The destroyer and the destroyed.
"W-when he was... when he was t-touching me. They were so l-loud," he finally admits.
Jeongguk's blood boils. His heart breaks and his head spins as the truth is revealed. His brain is a warzone as every emotion he could possibly feel are conflicting. There's bloodshed at every corner of his mind. He's seeing red. He's pulsating with anger yet forces himself to keep it consumed and governed. Now is not the time to burst. He needs to listen.
"H-his hand... when he was s-stroking me. I was t-telling myself I should've been r-ready. I should've been prepared," Jimin breathes and takes a moment to collect himself before he proceeds. "They w-were telling me it's m-my fault. I wanted to look p-pretty for you, Officer Jeon. But n-now I feel filthy. After what h-he's done to me... you won't want this," Jimin concedes to the demons in his head as he speaks his own truth, stammering yet sure of every word.
The policeman's bones go brittle at the man's admission. His jaw is working in frustration as he clenches his teeth, desperately trying to control the burning sensation swaddling his eyes. His gaze is keen, honing in on the slowly crumbling blond headed man just a few feet away from him. Jeongguk doesn't cry often but in no case is he surprised to find himself garnering dampened cheeks as the tears curl down his jaw and trickle along the colum of his tightening neck.
"Jimin... that isn't true. I know it's a lot to ask of you, but don't listen to them. They don't know what they're saying. They're trying to control you. None of this is your fault. Please... I'm begging you. You have worth incomparable to any jewel in this world. They're trying to devalue you and make you seem less than you are. You don't deserve this pain. Nobody does," Jeongguk whispers out to him past his tears.
Jimin is simply staring at the man and for a moment it seems as though his words have reached him. But the teacher's gaze dissolves back into a state of emptiness and Jeongguk, for the first time now, feels like he has lost him completely. Like he's not coming back.
"...If I don't deserve it then why did it happen to me?" he asks quietly.
Jeongguk is frustrated with himself. He doesn't have all of the answers to Jimin's questions. He's beginning to feel useless as his words are spilling into one of the teacher's ears, drowning out the monsters for a split second, only to be drained out the other. It's push and pull and unfortunately he's being shoved further and further away with each passing second.
Suddenly the dressing room door takes a couple knocks before it's swung open. There's two policemen, both of them being a set of unfamiliar faces to the teacher. Jimin's eyes widen in horror and he scrambles feebly along the ground as they approach him.
"N-no! Don't touch me!" Jimin quite literally screams however it comes out a mere rasp.
Jeongguk stands up and although they're on the same team, he pushes the both of them back with established force, standing between the men in blue and the terrified blond on the ground behind him.
"You're not fucking touching him," Officer Jeon barks with a scowl.
One of them lifts a brow. "He needs to be taken to the station. Move."
Jeongguk stiffens. "Lay a single finger on him and both of your fucking hands are gone. Do you realize what's happened to him? He's terrified of being touched right now and you're gonna man handle him into the back of a police car because he isn't cooperating? Fuck off."
"Jeongguk, take it easy," Namjoon interjects, stepping in and leading the other two policemen out of the dressing room however not before catching some distasteful comments thrown in the direction of the brunette.
Officer Jeon is thankful to see not only a familiar face from the force but also a friend. He places his hands on his hips, staring down to shake his head for a brief moment as he runs his tongue along his inner bottom lip. The moment he looks up his eyes have fired up again, watering in distress.
"Hyung," he calls out breathily and runs a hand down his face. "Fuck, I don't know what to do."
Namjoon places one of his hands on Jeongguk's shoulders, staring past him to give the poor little thing in the corner a quick, sympathetic glance. "Hey, listen to me. We're going to figure this out, alright? You're not alone in this. You have people you can count on. This all doesn't lay on your shoulders. Don't force yourself to take the weight of it all, alright? I'm right here," he soothes and his hand moves to Jeongguk's cheek.
If Jimin coming unhinged isn't bad enough, Jeongguk is slowly but surely losing himself in the process. He sinks into the man's hand, grateful that he can still feel the warmth radiating off of his palm as it sends stuttered wavelengths of relief throughout his body.
"Hyung," Jeongguk calls out and quickly peers over his shoulder, finding Jimin cuddled into his jacket. "...Kai touched him. He fucking touched him," he whispers.
Namjoon's jaw too works stiffly as his teeth grit. His hand falls from Jeongguk's cheek and he proceeds to look the man in his doe eyes. "We have some witnesses being brought to the station for some questioning, Gguk-"
"He won't let me touch him. He won't let anyone touch him, Hyung. How are we going to get him out of here?" Jeongguk questions frantically.
From what he can see, there's a hoard of reporters and regular mall customers in a cluster at the entrance of the store being blocked off by police officers. Jimin clearly doesn't want to move - can't move - and the increase in attention is only going to make matters for him worse.
Jeongguk hates seeing the man in pain. Hates to hear the heartbreaking cries and letting sink in just exactly their source.
It's going to take healing. Lots and lots of healing.
Jimin is never going to be the same - that's a given. He'll never be able to forget but Jeongguk can only hope that with the help of Officer Kim, he'll be able to walk the streets of Seoul one day without needing to look over his shoulder.