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The funny thing is that Taehyung wasn’t all that afraid at the beginning. Who could blame him? The presence of a security guard behind you was supposed to make you feel safe. Taehyung had always scoffed at the stupid rule of taking a guard with you wherever you went. There weren’t supposed to be any crazy fans in this part of the building. This part was strictly for artists.
Protocol, Taehyung. That’s what manager Sejin had said with a sigh for the umpteenth time. And Taehyung had replied that he could go to the bathroom by himself perfectly well, thank you very much. Also for the umpteenth time.
Don’t get him wrong, being an idol was super cool and all that, but all those stupid, useless rules; he could do without. Because let’s be real; what could possibly happen just by going to the bathroom?
A knife against his back is what could happen. Not in the way you’d think though. Taehyung would have even argued it was because of the fact that he took a bodyguard with him that he’d ended up shuffling through the building's hallways with a knife to his back.
Do you remember when we were like… seventeen -I think it was still before our debut- and we were just forced to do everything together? I-I don’t know how we got into this fight at school, but I remember you calling me short and then I punched you in the nose. And then you said something about a ‘chihuahua-complex’ so I punched you again, because let’s be real, you deserved that… God, we got in detention every day for like… a month. Bang PD-nim was so mad. Said we’d better start taking this trainee-program seriously, so we wouldn’t lose our spots. And you kept whining and blaming me, so I kept punching you. I was a very aggressive dude back then, wasn’t I? I’ll admit that much, I guess. But God, I hated your guts those early weeks.
“Don’t say a word, just keep walking,” the guard’s raspy voice had whispered in his ear. Seongjin… was it Seongmin? Taehyung knew it was one of the new hires; even taller and broader than the rest. He’d been hired to no one’s surprise, because just looking at him… yeah, it made total sense. Taehyung had frowned, confused. Had the guard perceived a threat? Here? Weird.
From early on, they had been trained how to deal with potential crazed people. So Taehyung wasn’t really afraid. Shocked, yes. Unsure, maybe. Perhaps even a little intrigued. Weird how that turned out to be the first emotions. Then he felt something sharp and pointy jab against his lower back and realized it was Seongmin himself that was threatening him.
How ironic.
Taehyung remembered receiving that particular self-defense training fairly well. They’d received it from their security guards themselves once they started to gain a bit of popularity. Taehyung mostly remembered screwing around with Jimin though. But he remembers one rule: don’t try to be a hero.
Complying with what you are told to do while you are being threatened with a knife is a very sensible thing to do. Most people that try to threaten you are fairly emotionally unhinged, so by staying calm yourself, you have the least chance of escalating the situation.
Or, that’s the theory.
Seongmin doesn’t seem very emotionally unhinged, but Taehyung has no experience in the matter, so he decides to take the reasonable approach, “What do you want from me exactly?”
“I thought I told you to be quiet.”
“Well yeah, sure. But I guess we can work something out. There’s no need for… knives.”
“You want to know what I want?”
“Yes.”
“I want you to be quiet.”
They keep walking and Seongmin seems perfectly calm. They enter a different building, it seems like. Ugly white walls and an even uglier blue carpet. This part of the building seems completely void of human life.
That’s not good.
Frustration boils up within Taehyung. He wonders what will happen if he just turns around really quickly and kicks that bodyguard in the shin-
They said it was clear that you fought back. That the bruises and fingerprints show that you did not go down without a fight. Don’t you remember what they taught us? What am I even saying? I can’t imagine what I would have done. It hurts too much to think you had to go through that. Did it happen quickly? They say it must have gone on for a while, but I can’t- I can’t think about that. Were you afraid? Were you conscious? God, I hope you were already out when they-
Nonsense of course. Seongmin was more than a head bigger than him and twice as wide. He could snap Taehyung like a twig. Stay reasonable. Yeah, okay. He could do that.
“I would just really like to know where we’re going.”
“If I use this knife to slit your throat, would you be quiet then?”
The threat sounds calm and perfectly even. Taehyung would like to explain this whole situation away by saying that maybe Seongmin is desperate. Maybe he needs money. Maybe he’s got a sick wife and daughter back home and BigHit is not paying him enough to take care of them. Taehyung would just tell him that he’d lend him the money willingly. No need for knives, silly.
But none of Seongmin’s behavior point to desperation, so far.
So yeah, that makes him a little nervous, because Taehyung’s got nothing in his arsenal for calm and collected murderer. Just comply and wait til we de-escalate the situation does not apply when we are the situation.
Damnit.
Taehyung feels his phone burning in his pocket. He’s got Namjoon on speed-dial. He could try to slip a hand into his pocket and call his hyung like that. He’s pretty sure Seongmin would hear Namjoon when hyung barks through the phone and demands to know exactly where the fuck is Taehyung and are you insane the show is about to start and don’t tell me you’ve got lost or locked yourself in the bathroom or something.
Yeah, bad idea.
Still, if he can’t call anyone, and he can’t reason his way out of this situation, what is he supposed to do? Comply and wait? Wait for what? No one knows where he is.
No one knows where he is.
That’s why he’s here.
Oh God-
I don’t think I want to know what happened. But I can’t keep myself from wondering. Do you- do you remember those all-nighters we pulled just before debut? Just the two of us. So goddamn perfectionistic. We just kept going at it. Needed to get it right. And we did get it right. Of course we did. We’d proof the world. That we earned our place. That we worked hard. That as long as we kept working hard, it would all pay off in the end.
Taehyung turns around , the knife twisting away from his back. Seongmin looms over him. Not angry, just annoyed. Impatient.
“Look,” Taehyung croaks, “I won’t tell anybody. Really, I swear. You can have my wallet, there’s like… two million won in there, I think. We could get more. It’ll just stay between you and me. You could leave the country. Go on vacation. Start a new life. A good life. Just- just let me go. Please.”
Seongmin observes him, crossing his arms. The back of his knife taps against his bicep. He tilts his head, faking contemplation. Then he laughs. Thunderous and loud. Not at all afraid of who might hear them here. “You’re cute. That’s why I took you. Could have gone for the maknae. He’s got a nice ass. But God, look at you.”
And that’s when the full implication of what’s about to happen hits him. This isn’t desperation. This is just… insanity. Taehyung sees it loud and clear in the hungry gaze the security guard imprisons him with. A maniacal glint in his eyes. Taehyung scrambles backwards before turning around and running like his life depends on it.
There’s something very dangerous about this man. Something completely crazy. He hears Seongmin laugh, like this is nothing but a game to him. Has he done this before? To other people? Taehyung dashes around a corner, almost losing his footing, but scrabbling against the floor to keep himself moving.
An elevator!
Oh thank fuck!
Taehyung gains even more speed at the sight of what is sure to be his salvation. Escaping an insane predator, that’d be a crazy headline.
He’s not even halfway across the hallway when he feels it though. Something sharp and ragged enters his back; goes in deep deep deep. He loses all strength in his legs immediately. They collapse underneath him, useless. He falls on his side, pain spreading across his back, his stomach, his chest, everywhere. What the fuck? What was the purpose of this?
They need to get your blood levels up. They had to stop the surgery because you were too unstable to continue. So they’re just doing transfusions now. Which is stupid, because you’re still bleeding. And you need surgery to stop the bleeding. But they can’t do the surgery, because you’re bleeding too much. It’s like… fighting a losing battle.
He reaches backwards, adrenaline sparking through his body in painful spikes. He can feel the knife lodged into his lower back, just short of his spine. He wants it out out out, because knives are definitely not supposed to be in your body. That’s like common sense 101.
A boot plants itself upon his hip and turns him onto his stomach. A heavy hand grabs the hilt of the knife and yanks it out. Taehyung gasps as the jagged edge rips through muscle and blood starts pouring out of the open, ragged wound; quickly spilling over his sides and onto the carpet.
And yeah, he’s goddamn scared now.
I don’t… I can’t… I should have… I’m sorry, Taehyung-ah. I am so sorry. I should have found you sooner. I should have realized something was wrong. You know, I’m not- I can’t stop thinking about it. How absolutely terrifying it must have been. That at some point, you must have lost all hope that somebody would come for you. At some point, it must have been too late to undo what they did to you. You must have realized at some point… that-that you would die there. And you would die alone.
He tries to squirm away, tries to struggle as the gigantic security guard straddles his hips. They both freeze when Taehyung’s phone goes off. Serendipity plays loud and distorted. A stupid joke Taehyung set up to rile his friend up. It worked. Of course it worked. Riling Jimin up was as easy as breathing. It was almost inevitable.
Taehyung is not known for his amazing agility, but he still managed to build up some muscle and coordination over the years. He manages to twist onto his back, despite the deep stab wound screaming and flaring and God he’s probably making it worse. Before Seongmin can react, Taehyung brings up one knee and connects it with the guard’s crotch as hard as he can. Seongmin grunts and doubles over. Taehyung twitches out of his way before he can be crushed completely.
He needs a plan. He doesn’t have a plan. His legs barely work. He gasps against the pain, patting down his pants, trying to retrieve his phone. He just needs to accept the call. He’ll scream for help; tell him he’s somewhere on the third floor. He doesn’t know exactly where. No, no, don’t come alone. Bring the whole security team. Please. Please. Somebody. Anybody.
His hands are sticky with his own blood. He tries; again and again, but lacks the proper coordination to accept the call. He whimpers with dread. Come on, please. Please.
The phone is kicked out of his hand quickly. It slides across the carpet. It keeps ringing. Jimin’s voice sounds much lower than its usual pitch. A joke. A stupid, stupid joke.
Seongmin grabs him harshly, now absolutely livid. All semblance of calm and self-control has disappeared and all Taehyung can see is rage. Rage and something else. Something much and much more sinister. He screams. Somebody help him! Anybody! Please! Please! This can’t be happening to him! He’s got a mother and a father and siblings and best friends and he’s done nothing wrong! Why? Why are you doing this? It doesn’t make sense! Please let him go! He wouldn’t tell anybody!
I don’t know if you can hear me. Part of me hopes you can’t. That would mean that you’re too far away to feel any pain. To have any thoughts at all. It’s possible, of course. They said your brain was being deprived of oxygen for a very long time. Major brain damage is almost guaranteed. Even if they get all the other stuff fixed… And I… I can’t, Taehyung-ah. I can’t lose you. Even if I already have. But I’ll understand. I get it if you can’t stay.
His head is slammed against the wall first. It leaves an ugly, bloodied stain. A deep gash appears on his brow, splitting his skin open all the way to his hairline. His nose starts bleeding. His ears are ringing. He can hear nothing but his own ragged breathing, desperate gasps as the world spins sickeningly around him. Seongmin lets go of his head and Taehyung falls limply to the floor. He’s crying with thick, harsh sobs and Seongmin turns him around. Enraged, Taehyung claws at him blindly, screaming as his fingers come in contact with the guard’s thigh and dig deeply into the skin. Seongmin growls and swats his hand away, grabbing his wrist and breaking it by crashing it against the floor. Taehyung cries out, cradling his wrist against his chest as he squirms on the floor. The carpet is slowly being soaked with blood.
“You put up a good fight,” Seongmin grunts, “It heightens the experience.”
Taehyung’s head is slammed against the carpet and all strength leaves his body. His vision is swimming. Blurring and blacking out. He hears Seongmin’s heavy breathing above him. He knows what’s about to happen, but he is helpless to stop it. The guard’s thick fingers wrap around the waistband of his pants. Shiny, green pants that are part of the matching outfits for the opening number.
What they did to you- it’s… it’s unforgiveable, Tae-ah. If you were me, and I were you… what would you do? We’re both impulsive, both short-fused when we’re stressed. There’s so many similarities between us… there’s so many differences as well. What would you do? If you had found me? If you had found me, and I wasn’t breathing… and there was so much blood… and my pants were… it’s unforgiveable, Tae-ah. Even if, by some miracle, you could make it through this… the damage is done. So many broken bones, so much trauma… what would you do?
Taehyung’s mind grows numb while it happens. Still he can feel every detail, every drag, every burn. Those disgusting grunts and roaming fingers. It hurts, but it doesn’t hurt more than everything else already does. It takes maybe two, three minutes, and then it’s over, but in Taehyung’s mind, it goes on forever. He’s turned on his back again, handled like a ragdoll. He feels like a ragdoll too. Seongmin pants above him. Somehow proud of what he’s done. Like he’s won a prize or something.
“Please,” Taehyung whispers, “Now please, let me go.”
Seongmin smiles wickedly and shakes his head and Taehyung feels his heart sink. “Don’t you understand, Taehyung? I’m doing this for your own good. There’s no place in this world for beauty, for innocence. I’ve seen it. It always gets destroyed in the most horrifying ways. All beauty must suffer.”
“No,” Taehyung sobs, voice gone, “Please no.”
“You are much more beautiful than the others. A crown on my work. The grand finale. You will be missed by millions.”
This is it. This is the exact moment that Taehyung knows he’s not getting out of here. Seongmin never intended to let him go. He should have known. His breathing speeds up. He can’t fight anymore, but he can scream. Seongmin stabs and kicks at him. Harsh and brutal. Kicks to his knees, his ribs, his pelvis. Crushing and breaking and exploding with pain. Taehyung cries and gasps. He feels the jagged knife go into his abdomen. Twice, three times. He’s dying here. There’s no way around it. Blood gushes out of him like a river. It pools all over the carpet and the wall behind him. A pain he’s never been able to even imagine takes over all of his senses. He can’t see the bodyguard leave. He can’t feel his arms or legs. His consciousness is quickly fading. If he closes his eyes now, he doubts he’ll ever open them again.
The ringtone keeps playing.
He’s been attacked and assaulted. He’s been led to this awful place and left to die here. He’s learnt that people are crazy enough that they are capable of doing such extremely horrible things to another human being. Vile things. Unspeakable things. And for what? A crown on my work.
Taehyung had to endure it, all alone. But he doesn’t have to die alone. He squints at the phone, just a dozen feet away. Jimin’s still calling him. Taehyung doesn’t know how long it’s been. He puts out one hand in front of him and plants it on the carpet floor. He starts dragging himself along the wall, slowly, agonizingly.
Jimin. Just… Jimin. A soothing voice. Maybe he’ll say it’s gonna be okay. Maybe he’ll say they’ll take care of him, even if they both know it’s too late. Taehyung doesn’t mind. Anything is fine. Just… don’t let him be alone.
He coughs. Blood fills his mouth. It’s hard to breathe. He can’t see where he’s going anymore. He gasps wetly. The ringtone fills his ears. It’s louder now that he’s closer. It’s mocking him. He can’t reach it. It’s a few meters away, but a million miles at the same time. He’s cold. So, so cold. He presses his hand against his abdomen. Warm blood spills through his fingers immediately. Taehyung coughs again. The pain fades and that’s not good. That’s not good at all. He smiles softly, so alone. So… tired. He can’t breathe. Maybe he’s not even trying. The pain’s gone. The ringtone fades in his ears.
Then it stops abruptly.
“No!” a long, agonized scream. Running footsteps.
Taehyung closes his eyes.
A severe concussion, a broken nose, broken collarbone, broken wrist, six broken ribs, stab wounds to the back and abdomen, pelvis broken in three places, shattered hip bone, crushed knee. Clear signs of physical and sexual assault. I’m sorry, Taehyung-ah. I know I said it before, but it’s different this time. I- I can’t explain. I know you wouldn’t approve, but I’m not doing this for you.
I’m sorry.
Forgive me.