Chapter Eight

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"Good job today, boys," Namjoon murmured as we reentered the dorms, all pausing in a huddle in front of the door to take off our shoes. We'd just come back from a photoshoot for our new concept, since we were freshly off of the hiatus, though it had only been a few weeks since the funeral. BigHit wanted to get us back into the public eye before the attention died down so that we could build off of the publicity we had gotten from Jimin's suicide. It was sick, but yet disgustingly smart as a business move. We were all appalled and slightly scared about how business-savvy our company was.

"I'm going to take a shower," mumbled Taehyung, trudging to the bathroom after acquiring clothes from the closet in the bedroom. No one said a word, and we all silently continued on.

We were still quietly mourning Jimin, and none of us had really recovered emotionally, so we were still quieter than usual. In retrospect, that should've allowed us to sleep more, since we weren't busy being hooligans, but it was a restless, painful silence. At night, I could usually hear everyone's steady, sleeping breathing, but I hadn't heard it since. Instead, I heard quiet, contemplating breathing, occasionally shaking with tears. I could feel everyone staring at the ceiling, or the bottom of the top bunk, and drown in their sorrows. We were all kept up by our pain, and that took away most of our sleep.

Tonight, though, I heard everyone around me fall asleep, besides Yoongi and Jungkook, who were either eating or showering. We had come back from an intensive choreography practice, and I think that everyone was too tired to be sad. I hoped that their dreams didn't haunt them.

I, on the other hand, laid awake in my bunk. I often stayed up longer than the others. It was like I was the mother; always worrying for everyone. Tonight, I was up because I was worried for the others. Jimin's death was devastating, but what would happen to the remaining members? I hoped that we wouldn't break up; I didn't think that I could survive without Bangtan. But could we continue without Jimin? Things would never be the same.

The door to the bedroom opened. I turned my head slightly to see Yoongi standing in the doorway, the light from the living room illuminating his wet hair.

"Seokjin, are you up?" he whispered, sneaking to my bunk.

"Yeah, what's up?" I sat up.

"I don't want to wake up the others because I don't know if this an actual emergency..." He inhaled. "But I can't find Jungkook anywhere."

"What do you mean, you can't find Jungkook anywhere?" My voice went up a notch, and Namjoon turned in his bed with a soft groan. Yoongi motioned for me to be quiet, and he went out to the living room. I slipped out of my bunk and followed, shutting the door quietly behind me.

"You can't find him?" I stared at Yoongi incredulously. He shook his head.

"He was eating some leftover pizza and playing a game on his phone, but when I got out of the shower, he wasn't there anymore," he explained. "I'm getting really worried."

"Getting fresh air?" I suggested, trying to not to panic.

"At... two in the morning? Aish, even he's not that stupid." In a hushed tone, he added, "Have you noticed how his walks have been getting longer and longer?"

I cursed under my breath. "You think he's been planning to run away?" I demanded. Yoongi shrugged.

"Honestly, Seokjin, have you noticed Jungkook? I know that he's a teenager, but he's not supposed to be this angry because of hormones. I know something's wrong with him, and I'm scared that he's going to do something stupid."

"Okay, let's go find him."

In less than two minutes, we were changed into jeans and jackets, and our boots were laced up. The cool evening air bit at my nose, and I sniffed as we stepped outside. The street, despite being in the middle of the night, was still considerably busy. Not many people were walking, but the street still had cars, their headlights shining through the darkness.

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