ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏʏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴘᴜʀᴘʟᴇ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ || ᴋ.ᴛʜ + ᴊ.ᴊᴋ ✔️

thirty: freak

The two went into work shortly after their little talk with Seokjin. Neither said a word to the other, not because of anything either said to each other, but simply out of that silent, shared feeling of vagueness that had settled in their chests thanks to this newfound information.

Seokjin's father.

He, or at least the people who worked for him, had been the ones responsible for nearly killing Taehyung years ago. They had been the cause, the thing that had essentially spurred on this whole hectic mess Taehyung had himself wrapped up in now.

The people who had indirectly urged Jimin to believe that by simply knowing him, both Taehyung and Yoongi were at such a great risk of danger - as had evidently already been proven by Tae's near-death experience (of which he had no memory).

It was a mess. All of this was such a mess and though he honestly felt on the verge of another breakdown, Taehyung shoved it beneath his outer layer where it could hide away in his heart until he saw it a more fitting time.

He and Jungkook performed as usual for the guests at the Fermata Pavilion. Their voices and music praised by guests and co-workers alike - and also, as usual, by Hoseok most of all. And maybe if Taehyung were in a better state of mind at the time, he could have appreciated his bubbly co-worker's kind words. But now all he could think of was getting home and talking to Jimin.

He knew he wouldn't have it in him to wake Jimin if the boy were resting, so he hoped with all his being that he would find Jimin conscious and talking to Yoongi or something. And for once fortune smiled on him.

Upon arriving with Jungkook back to the apartment, Taehyung walked in on Jimin mindlessly watching television as Yoongi stood in the kitchen washing dishes - which, also, if he were in his right state of mind, Taehyung surely would have scolded his friend for doing. Instead, he approached the couch on which Jimin lay, guiltily ignoring Yoongi's 'welcome home' in the process.

"Jimin, were you friends with Namjoon?"

Direct and to the point. He stared accusingly at the blond, who looked into Taehyung's face with concern, followed by some sort of bitter regret. Taehyung tensed before the other even spoke.

"I was," Jimin confessed. "After moving to Busan I met him and we became quick friends...even though I was really tentative to make friends after everything that had happened."

"Then what's the deal with him?" Taehyung demanded. "Why doesn't he remember you? Why did you take his memories, too?"

"Because I found out he was dating Kim Yojun's son."

He didn't have to ask to know who Jimin was referring to. With a deep, trembling breath, Taehyung threw a worried glance over his shoulder at Jungkook. "Seokjin goes to my college," he said after facing Jimin once again. "I've known him for a while, he's always been kind of a weirdo, but just today, he asked to speak with me, and he showed me pictures of you running from the people who were after you. He insists he's not working with his father...but I just..."

"I can't tell you who to and who not to trust, Taetae," Jimin said solemnly. There was a strong presence of sadness in his voice though his efforts to hide it were just as clear. "I just didn't want to take any chances. I shouldn't have taken any chances back then, either, but I did, and look what happened..."

"We can't remember you, that's what happened!" Taehyung's outburst, an uncontrollable one from the heart, rattled his brain and he felt it, the first sign of a headache, or a dizzy spell, or perhaps both. But still he continued. "How did you even do it, anyway? What are you that you're even able to take our memories? To give me your blood?? What are you, Park Jimin?!"