MALEVOLENT HEART | TK

Chapter Ten

In this chapter I'm generally explaining Jung's map of the soul that can also be found in bts' music (persona, shadow, ego)

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"Did you find it hard to breathe?
Did you cry so much that you could barely see?
You're in the darkness all alone
And no one cares, there's no one there."

"Are you going to keep staring at me?"

Taehyung frowned, looking away for a few seconds to avoid Jeongguk's striking gaze. They've been in that room for thirty minutes now, sitting in complete silence as Jeongguk read over the documents scattered on the table, acting like nothing had happened at all—acting like his usual, stone cold, self. Taehyung knew he wasn't as heartless now but he still couldn't comprehend the fact that Jeon Jeongguk, the man who had snatched him from the normality of his life, was the one who had saved him many years prior.

To say Taehyung had questions was an understatement. His mind was filled with them—he wanted to know the truth; about Jeongguk, about who he was, about his kidnapping, because he knew the whole matter had been deeper than anyone wanted to admit. But, most importantly, he wanted to know how, and why, had Jeongguk been assigned to that so-called mission. He wasn't much older than Taehyung was so, at that time, he used to be a teenager.

There used to be blood on his hands.

How did he get there in the first place?

How did a mere teenager get burdened with the mission of saving him?

"Who exactly are you?" Taehyung asked. It was the only thing that was bugging his mind and he truly hoped that Jeongguk would keep his word—he had said he was going to answer truthfully. "Why was a teenager asked to save me instead of the damned police?"

Jeongguk dropped the document he was reading, then turned his body towards Taehyung. He was currently sitting on the chair, the one he had asked Taehyung to sit in minutes prior, whereas the doctor was using a simple office chair from the opposite side of the table. Being too close to Jeongguk, especially after learning part of the truth behind his identity, didn't seem like a good idea.

"Have you ever wondered what happens behind the curtains after a play is finished?" Jeongguk asked, his words confusing Taehyung even more. He was sick of playing games and trying to guess the answers to his questions but, at the same time, he was well aware that Jeongguk was intelligent — extremely so. He must've had a reason for treating the subject the way he did. "Have you ever asked yourself whether the actors ever take off their masks? Or if they're even acting at all?"

"I don't understand where you're going with this."

Jeongguk disregarded his answer, as he often seemed to do. Taehyung assumed it was because he was used to everyone obeying his every order, to everyone listening to his every word with no interruption. Now, he knew that Jeongguk didn't act like that because of his status. There were hidden messages behind his every move—hidden gestures. His words were always chosen carefully, dangerously so. There was intent behind every move he made. Unlike normal people, Jeongguk seemed to calculate everything—he seemed to over analyze every detail.

"You see, Kim Taehyung. In some plays, actors put on masks. In others, they do not. Some actors never take off certain masks they put on during a play for the rest of their lives, whereas others cannot even think of touching them—wether because of their political beliefs, religion, sexuality, mentality, composure or other factors." Jeongguk's fingers were slowly folding a piece of paper into what Taehyung assumed to be an origami. He wasn't sure if that gesture had a hidden message but, from the look of concentration on Jeongguk's face, it probably did. After a few seconds of silence, the man raised his head and their irises met, reminding Taehyung once again that he, the man sitting ahead of him and above them all, was the man who had saved his life. "While watching a play, you never know which actor is wearing a mask or wether they will ever take it off. You never know what happens behind the curtains when they are closed and that is the frightening beauty of masks—you never know who is wearing one, who is pretending to be someone else, who is real and who is not. You never know what mask they're wearing—which face they're showing and which they're hiding."