BTS One Shots?

The Patient (Rap Monster)

My name is Jung Noeil and I work at a Mental Hospital. I know, that probably isn't the most appealing job in the world, most find it scary.
Roaming the halls full of rooms with mentally deranged people? "How bad could it be?" Stop right there. It's bad. Level 10 on the badness scale.
My job here is to give everyone their medicine, so I walk into the padded rooms to see people chained to walls by a metal collar and inject them with narcotics to dull their minds; that way, they don't feel as bothered by having to stay in a white room all day. Gotta respect their human rights!

"Noeil!" A middle aged man walked up to me as I was pulling my cart out of the last room of the day. "We've got a new one today. He's not as..." He struggled to find the right word "challenged...as the others. To be frank, we're not even really sure why he's here."
"What does this have to do with me?"
"You're the only girl working here as of right now. Maybe if we send you in to sit with him...something would happen?"
I wasn't too fond of the idea, but I didn't want to keep the newbie here if he didn't need to be either. So, I nodded. "All right, where is he?"

I was led to a room, it wasn't cushioned like the others, in fact, everything was metal. He sat on the "bed", wearing a strait jacket and his foot cuffed to the headboard.
His back was to us, but I could hear a faint mumbling, I couldn't decipher it, though. The man also seemed to be looking down at his hands which were moving slightly, as much as the jacket permitted.

"Patient 940912" The man who had led me here said, and the patient looked up and the mumbling stopped, he slowly turning his head to look at us "Kim Namjoon"

Namjoon looked at me with bored, dull eyes and didn't speak.
I wanted to look away from his gaze that bore into me, but I kept eye contact with him - even when I slightly dipped my head in greeting "Hello, Namjoon. My name is Jung Noeil."

He still didn't say anything. I wondered if he could say anything above the faint mumbling I heard earlier. I came closer, kneeling down. He still looked at me like I was some sort of inhuman abomination. I took the opportunity to study his face. He was obviously Korean - it's not often we get a foreigner here - even so, his hair was dyed a light blonde, almost platinum silver.
Who would dye their hair that color?
I scrunched my nose. If I dyed my hair, it wouldn't be platinum blonde. I'm too pale, darker skin works well with that.

"What?"
He spoke? You talk? He talks?
He blinked. "You do know how to carry a conversation right? It's simple. I talk, you talk, then I talk again. It shouldn't be that hard for you to grasp."

The first sentence I get out of him is something sassy? Great.
I stood up and put my hands on my hips. "I'm quite aware of how a conversation works, jerk."
He smirked.
Dimples.
"Then I should apologize. I underestimated your expertise in conversationalism. You were just infatuated with my voice; I know, I do that to people."

"What people? The same ones that sent you to a Mental Institution?"

I kind of regretted saying that, I lost my cool for a second.

He seemed unfased, like he's used to this kind of thing.
"They just didn't see things how I did. 'Parrently I'm crazy because-" he cut himself off, as if he was about to say something he shouldn't and changed gears. "I'm crazy because I'm not a stuck up fucker like they are."

I didn't know what to say. He didn't have the same ideals as his family, so they put him here? That's screwed up.

Namjoon chuckled, but it sounded hoarse - maybe even a little bitter. "Fuck 'em. I'll show them. That one track mind will lead them to death. I'll be living glory as an idol, one by one my dreams will come true. Stuck in their old ways like that, they won't get fucking anywhere."