Chapter Text
The doctor deemed his recovery satisfying, the bandage was no longer necessary and Seokjin could start physical therapy right away –”to help with dexterity as I know you play instruments”. He had to ask for a recommendation, it sure was easier to have access to a whole team of professionals when needed.
Actually, Seokjin drove around Seoul all morning.
The damage done to Chef Baek Jong Won’s restaurant chain was his responsibility to fix. Before, the members merely had to appear live for everything they featured to be sold out by the fandom. Seokjin had been surprised by the amount of likes he had received on his latest Instagram publications. If people supported him still, a well crafted collaboration would suffice. Seokjin’s current status brought a new difficulty: agency-less and disinterested to change that for the time being, he lacked the legal framework required to produce content. Hence why he spent a few hours at his attorney’s office that day. Adulting was not fun, Seokjin felt way happier playing games on his computer! But he refused to let people down…
He started by going to the hairstylist, his hair had grown out an unruly mess, even if it was thick and healthy after a few years without colorations. He kept it black for now and it still reached his neck on the back but it no longer hid his ears and they had restyled his curtain fringe daintily. In the mirror, Seokjin smiled at his softer reflection.
He contacted Chef Baek Jong Won later in the afternoon.
“Let’s film something!”
“Seokjin-ah?”
“I’m your apprentice all day tomorrow!”
Seokjin had arrived on the set with a coat, a scarf and gloves on but he had forgotten how hot filming lights were. As they started filming, he stood in the studio’s kitchen, in his undershirt white-ribbed blue button up, sweating in the grey apron he had put on top of it. Vlogging like this, without a whole team to help him, having to mind the camera while being respectful to the Chef and the time invested in teaching him the recipe was definitely a challenge he was not ready for. He ran around a lot, he screamed a lot too because the chef put his whole finger in a pan full of burning oil without hesitation. They tasted their dish afterwards, the two of them awkwardly sat with a plate in the silence of the little room.
The challenge was bigger than what he was used to but Seokjin enjoyed the experience, he felt closer to the fans this way. It was less formal than the huge camera usually thrown in his face. A little bit chaotic which felt true to the Bangtan spirit. He even had footage for a bloopers video… If he figured out how to edit those.
Seokjin could no longer contact ARMY through Weverse but he still had made regular contacts with some on Maplestory so he asked for advice there.
Hey, I wanna make videos for the boys, how do I put it all together?
And really, were there things that ARMY couldn’t do? They shared youtube tutorials with him, told him which software Jungkook liked to use, what usual content army logs consisted of. Seokjin was overwhelmed and proud beyond words, even if the people in the videos made it sound like his at-least-four-years-old computer was a piece that belonged in an antique shop.
He installed the software after eating dinner, the step-by-step videos on one screen, his current project on the other. Spring’s intermittent barks marked the time: I need to be fed. I am bored. I need to go to the bathroom. I need to be fed, again, hyung !! cecause Seokjin had dived too deep. He didn’t try anything too fancy, he’d rather have a rough, barely-edited look than something that made the viewer easy, or worse, annoyed. The longest part was adding in the subtitles. The most fun part, however, was the O.S.T. Seokjin could synced his keyboard with both his bluetooth headphones and his laptop, so he played with it until he found a little tune that’d make for background instrumental in the whole video. For the intro piece, he added a clip of himself winking at the camera from the bloopers on top of which his mother could be heard – though one would have to know his mother’s voice– calling him “Seokjinnie <3”. It was cute and simple.
He managed to upload the finished video of the bloopers first. His first work, from beginning to end, his own piece of work. Maybe it wasn’t the smartest move but there had been enough tears and anger; hence, watching his hyung laugh with him, loosening up after what must have been a stressful time felt good.
He felt drunk the whole day afterwards. How did Jungkook do this? And he’d have to do it again with the actual footage they had filmed… He struggled to share the post to his story and if he had to ask Naver how to, so who would know?
Chef Baek Jong Won teaches me how to make menbosha - behind the scenes vlog .
He had to exit the app afterwards though, it changed colours and kept freezing, he hadn't done anything wrong with it so he simply dropped his phone and headed to bed.
—
There was someone in his home and they had broken something. One plus one equals two, Seokjin thought, emerging from sleep, Kim Namjoon must have passed his threshold. He grunted, pushed the covers away and dragged himself to the bathroom. He was too old. He was absolutely too old to have all-nighters again. Everything ached and he needed coffee in his system.
He had half expected to reach the bottom of the stairs and to be stopped with a puddle of tea and a danger zone. Instead, he was met with the members. All of them. Some on his couch, some in his kitchen. They seemed grave, wore long faces and an uncomfortable silence between them. It looked a lot like anger but if Seokjin had to guess right now, he’d say someone had passed away.
Jimin, who stood behind the kitchen island but closer to him than Jungkook and Namjoon were, noticed him first. He put down the mug he held in his hand and came to him, wrapped himself over him in a tight hug, catching the others’ attention who turned to them. They all abandoned what they were doing to imitate the dancer and suddenly, for the first time in more than four years, Kim Seokjin was the central part of a Bangtan hug. When Namjoon’s arms covered them all finally, his breathing started to become irregular. He tried to catch the leader’s eyes, to read the vibes but Namjoon had his eyes closed and his jaw pushed forward. Anger . What had happened? Seokjin didn’t think they’d be angry with him for his Instagram posts, they knew he had broken the contract, that he needed to do different stuff from now on. So what had made them so angry? And worried? For him? All their hands on him, their ragged breaths… until Seokjin heard muffled cries. He searched for the sound only to find Yoongi’s heartbroken face. He pushed the other members gently so he could hug him completely. The producer held onto Seokjin’s top, his face in his collarbone as he repeatedly cried “hyungie”. And if there was one thing Seokjin didn’t know how to do, that was seeing the people he loved hurting when he was powerless.
“It’s gonna be okay, Yoongi-yah. Whatever it is, we’ll get through this, hyung promises. You hear me?”
Jimin reached for the producer’s waist from behind, himself crying and held him against his chest. Seokjin looked at Taehyung and Hoseok who had stepped foot in his house for the first time despite the current state of their bond. He shook his head and frowned. But Hoseok’s face made Seokjin back off slightly. The members and himself had gone through a fair amount of arguments even before his betrayal, yet he had never seen Hoseok’s beautiful traits hold as much tension as they did right now, his gaze was murderous and he seemed ready to jump anyone. Seokjin was left utterly confused.
Hoseok moved forward, walking right into Seokjin, pushing him, a hand on his chest.
“Hob-ah, what’s going on?” he whispered.
There were no remnants of his friend in his gaze, solely anger and hurt; yet his fist clung to Seokjin’s pyjama button up. Had he done something the dancer disagreed with since the last time they’d seen one another? He couldn’t figure out what.
“You –”
Seokjin could feel his hand shaking with anger against his stomach. He yelped when Hoseok surged forward and kissed him unforgivingly, biting at Seokjin’s lower lip, his hands holding the back of his head. How was he supposed to react ? But the caress of Hoseok’s lips on his, his hot breath on his skin, the possessive manner in which he held him pressed against him finally disconnected the voice in his head. Seokjin tentatively held onto the jacket to stabilise himself, fervently responding to Hoseok’s mouth until the dancer roared in his face:
“You fucking love me.”
Although Seokjin could hear how needy and lustful Hoseok’s voice sounded, the question behind it still pierced through loud and clear.
“I do,” he answered because he refused to let any of them doubt that.
Hoseok let go of his shirt abruptly. They stared at each other, Seokjin too hesitant to walk over the verbal space Hoseok had seemed to find to express himself.
“You loved me so you fled? Was that perspective so disgusting to you that you had to go where you weren’t safe?”
And there, he lost Seokjin. The wild look in his eyes, the agitated hand in his hair, the broken sob in his voice.
“What’s going on, Hob-ah?” he asked, putting a hand on the dancer’s shoulder who crumbled into him in tears. Seokjin’s knees almost gave up supporting the dead weight. Alarmed, he turned his head towards the others.
Hoseok calmed down eventually, sat on the couch, Jimin and Taehyung half in his lap as they also attended to an incredibly upset Yoongi. The rest of the members sat around them, still in a close-knit formation.
No one talked to him and Seokjin felt unbearably estranged.
“Someone explain,” he demanded in the hyung voice he disliked using. “You’re scaring me. Has someone hurt you?” he asked, fixated on Yoongi’s sobbing form.
“We…,” hiccuped Namjoon, “we failed you. Bangtan…” He paused. “We were so angry at you and you-,” he broke down.
Seokjin brought a hand to his mouth to repress his own choking up. He could count on his two hands the number of times he’d seen Kim Namjoon cry. He crawled on his knees to him, sliding his hand behind the leader’s neck, bringing him forward. “You had a perfect plan and I ruined it. You agree with me on this, so who the fuck made you so sad, hmm? Tell me who I gotta find.”
Jungkookie’s soft voice answered him, although sorrowful, “It’s all over the news, hyung. People are coming forward, anonymously testifying about what happened to you.”
Seokjin let go of Namjoon, slowly fell back on his heels in the silence of the room.
He saw Yoongi get up and soon his living room resonated with the news channels’ anchors voices:
And for our main news today: has ex-BTS member Kim Seokjin had a bad experience in the military?
A report leaked from The Ministry of Defense states that on the 17th of January 2023, a female soldier clandestinely entered the camp where the former idol Kim Seokjin of BTS was assigned. It is revealed that she unauthorizedly proceeded to inject him with a vaccine. She claimed that the idol was sick with a strong fever and needed her help. As the rest of the group is due to enlist in the -
Yoongi switched off the TV. Seokjin’s heart beat out of his chest, sweating and short of breath. Someone had wrapped themselves around him from behind. He recognised Jungkook’s hold by how firm it grew, his fingers digging into Seokjin’s sides. He would bruise but it anchored him.
Was Namjoon in trouble because of him? Did the company change their mind about allowing the boys to rest before they were to leave? Had the government called them to pressure their PR Teams into denying the allegations?
It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. It was wrong. That they knew. That the whole world knew. He hadn’t wanted them to know. He wanted to put it behind him. He wanted this to remain a secret forever. A forever that would not publicise how vulnerable and exposed idols were while they served. No matter how many times one of them had had to terminate their service prematurely because of mistreatments, no group had ever been met with as much hatred as Bangtan had and Seokjin feared for the five remaining members. It kept him up at night, he had nightmares about it all the time. If they touched a single hair out of his loves –
“You’re safe, hyung. We’re right here, no one can hurt you anymore.”
Seokjin looked at Jungkook, silent and blinking.
“We won’t let them get away with it. You’re safe here. Breathe for me, mmh?” Jungkook’s knuckles brushed his cheek lightly. They were so close like this, he could feel the younger man’s heartbeat and the concern that had overtaken his mischievously cute face.
“We’re going to be a little bit more annoying though, hyung,” Namjoon warned him, bending forward until their foreheads touched. “We need to run a few tests, to make sure you’re fine.”
“I… It’s already done.”
“Oh. The pictures of you at the clinic.”
Seokjin’s smile didn’t reach his eyes.
Namjoon waited, inquisitive.
“It’s… Everything’s fine. It’s… Yeah I hm was lucky I guess.”
Seokjin knew he should feel thankful that they cared but he didn’t have the energy to explain. Yes, it is true. I know I should have signalled it. Yes there is more to tell. Yes… Yes it’s been hell. What good could that bring? To terrify them when they were next in line? Was he supposed to dwell into gruesome details, to selfishly emotionally dump on their shoulders all he had been through?
No, nothing he’d lived could help mend their wounds but perhaps it was time that he opened about it to someone, a professional who would know how to handle the raging pain he felt inside, Seokjin thought. So that he could meet them here, like this and only share the good parts of companionship. So that, with a lot of work and the help of time, too, he could enjoy watching them grow into their own, unapologetically happier once they’d be freed of their own serving time.
“No matter how hard I’m trying, I always bring trouble to you, don’t I?” He sniffled. “I wasn’t expecting this to happen, I thought for sure it would be stifled.”
“Enough!” Namjoon lost his temper. “You think I give a shit what those fuckers say?” He was right into Seokjin’s space, he had let himself slide down from the couch to crouch before him. “You could have… Hyung, I don’t wanna put this energy in the universe but the ending to this story could have been my worst nightmare! I don’t give a shit about anyone else right now. Do you have any idea how painful it was to discover this from the fucking news anchor? That… that you had to go through such… That you’ve gone through that alone? That you carried it in your mind because you didn’t feel like we were reliable enough to help you with it.”
“Yah!” Seokjin shouted, arms in the air. They all startled, wide-eyed and open mouths staring at him as if he’d lost it. “Kim Namjoon, this will NEVER be on you. I had abandoned you!”
“So you deserved it? Are you fucking serious, now Jin-hyung?” Namjoon spat, facing him with his jaw locked, his eyes a burning flame. “You were under contract, it was their job to protect you.”
Seokjin tried to argue but there was no managing Namjoon’s anger right now.
“It’s impossible that no one noticed what was happening to you, they dismissed it.”
“I legally belonged to the government Jungkook-ah, what could they have done?”
“Idols have been removed from endangering situations before and turned into civil servants,” Yoongi retorted.
“So that’s where the panic attacks come from,” Jimin guessed.
“They creep up on me… I’m sorry it looked like I was reacting negatively to learning the news, I will always root for you as long as you’re happy.”
“Yeah? How about you let go of the guilt then and let us make our own choices when it comes to forgiveness, hyung?” Taehyung demanded.
Seokjin looked up at him. “How can I?” he asked, voice quavering. “When the same could happen to you in a few months?”
“Can you fucking stop that? Are you supposed to be a god, Seokjin-ssi? You’re not our dad, are you? Why on earth should the weight of the world fall upon your shoulders! We’re adults and we know where to draw the line, we have enough self-love to ask for help when we are in a dangerous situation. You don’t need to take the mental charge for it!”
Yoongi nodded, joining Namjoon, Jungkook and him on their knees. “All these years, we were safe because as a hyung, you always went and did the hard things first, cleared the path for us to stride behind you safely. But hyungie, you’re not bulletproof on your own. I… –”
“You’re not a shield, you’re… You’re part of this team. I don’t mean… I don’t mean just idols bangtan,” Taehyung said. “We’re… There’s no B.T.S. if we’re not all here. And I know one day something may happen to one of us, that’s fate. But you have been acting like you’re a removable prop we use from time to time.”
Namjoon exchanged a dark look with Taehyung. “I’m sorry I’m explaining badly.”
“No, you aren’t,” Namjoon retorted. “It just hurts to hear it because it underlines how much we’ve been taking hyung’s presence for granted without checking in.”
Seokjin watched them speak over one another, the frustration in their traits, in the way they brushed their hair off their faces, in their bunched eyebrows. They were misunderstanding the situation. “BTS gave me my life, I wouldn’t be anyone if it weren’t for you. You have never asked anything from me. It’s been hard but there was always a reason. I was the one who always, always took from you. I was the one who selfishly never gave back. And… And… And I needed to leave.”
“Take what, hyung?” Hoseok demanded. “A burn-out? Sure. We’re fucking exhausted. God we have been for how many years? We were supposed to have a break… Four years ago! And YOU nursed us through it all. For god sake, if it weren’t for you… There’s no BTS without Kim Seokjin. We were all fucking suicidal, let’s speak openly, yeah? The rapline especially. Can you please acknowledge how fucking terrifying it was to see you put on Jimin’s exact clothes just in case there’d be a security incident and the underlying implications of it had it happened for real? And you did it, you didn’t even blink! We were kids but so were you!”
“Of course, I would do anything for you! And you would too, that’s how this works!” he shouted.
“If it is, why don’t you allow us to be there for you in return?” Jimin screamed.
In the silence that followed, Seokjin could hear their breathing, could see Hoseok’s balled up fist grip onto Yoongi’s jumper, how Taehyung had gotten up and walked away slightly, turning his back to them. They were so broken, desperately attempting to glue their seven pieces together when the process tore their hearts apart.
There was no end to this, was there?
Seokjin closed his eyes and let go. “Because I want too much.”
“We told you you could have it,” Jungkook’s low voice intervened behind him, his hands dug harshly in his sides. “We told you we were just waiting for you to say the words. Just let us in, hyung.”
The boys were watching them, waiting for more context.
“You don’t know how to ask for what you want, hyung. It’s a real problem,” Yoongi agreed. “Tell me, hadn’t it been for the alcohol, would you have kissed Hob-ah?”
Seokjin huffed. Of course, he wouldn’t have! What kind of question was that!
Coming out to himself was the hardest thing he had gone through. It was like an eruption. Everything he knew, everything that was slowly creeping up to the surface, boiling up and up and always upwards… finally exploded in his face and he was left to drown in fear. Alone.
“Do you have any idea how much that hurts? To be loved by someone you adore but not to be trusted when you extend your hand to them? It’s a leap to take but even if the floor seems to crumble, there’d always be someone to catch you and you don’t trust us on that.”
“How could I have known?” he pleaded.
Jimin opened his mouth. “Are you saying you didn’t know about… everything that went on between us?”
“How would I have, Jimin-ah? I never walked on any of you! So never mind that, I… My thoughts at the time… Every time I was with any of you, or all of you not that it matters… I just felt so wrong… so… Even when we were working, god, it felt like…
“Like what, hyung?” Namjoon urged him.
“Like I was tainting you!” Seokjin got up, bypassed the couch and paced to the kitchen island and back. “You were all… We worked so hard,” he cried. “So hard and here I was thinking about…” He tipped his head to the side, mocking himself. “Being bisexual here is… But to love six people all at once? I felt sick, twisted and I… I didn’t want…” He breathed for a while. Jimin got up to hug him silently, his smaller frame nonetheless powerful. “I couldn’t do this to you, so I picked the only choice that appeared to me at the time because! and don’t contradict me on this! people were also criticising us for delaying my enlistment.”
Jimin smelled of perfume, a flowery smell that helped Seokjin calm down as the warmth of their bodies combined grounded him.
“I never want to hear this word ever again in your mouth, hyung,” Taehyung’s honey voice resonated in the room, solemn.
Seokjin shook his head, drying his tears.
"Apologising is too easy, Hob-ah, for how deeply I hurt you… but I didn't know any better and except for the fact,” he added with a broken voice, “that I have condemned you to this military hell, I… I thought I had done the best for you at the time."
Namjoon cursed. Yoongi used the leader's thigh to push himself up, coming over until he tiptoed to Seokjin, a hand on his shoulder to kiss him. It was wet because they were both crying. Seokjin chased after his lips when he backtracked as Jimin tugged at the producer's jumper to force him down and copy him. His kiss was sweeter, shorter too. They were both shy. Seokjin barely had time to take that in when Jungkook surged forward out of nowhere, pushing them to get to him, his arms circling Seokjin's waist and walking them backwards as their lips crashed. The youngest only backed down after he elicited a broken moan from him. He stepped back, eyes devouring him, full of claims and promises. How manly, Seokjin thought, how safe he made him feel. But they weren’t done. Namjoon's determined stride to Seokjin reignited the fire. He took the elder's chin in his right hand and captured his lips possessively, kissed him until Seokjin opened his mouth so he could lick into it, overpowering. He caged him against the island, his forehead leaning against the elder's. His kiss was demanding, heavy, sexier too. Seokjin had to hold onto him to keep his balance, his knees weak and the need for friction making him desperate. It didn't seem to bother the leader, whose darkened pupils and open mouth observed his every reaction.
"You're mine,” he claimed, “you have been from the moment you entered my home and helped me build up my dream, hyung."
And crying truly was taking a toll on Seokjin’s body but it seemed that this was the only response he was armed with.
“You should call your parents, they must be pretty distressed,” Namjoon made a face.
He handed Seokjin his cell phone since his own had been loosely abandoned on his desk the past night.
They were situations in life that required one to lie. Especially to one’s parents. He knew his mother wouldn’t believe any word he’d say, he also knew it’d appease her anyway. There was only so much pain a parent could imagine their own child going through. Yet, she had been with him throughout his nocturnal panic attacks, she had seen the worst of it… He’d let her choose which truth to believe for her own peace of mind.
“Joon-ah? You forgot your book the other day. I tried to save it but the rain… It’s a bit crinkled.”
Namjoon gave him a sheepish smile. “I was wondering where it was.”
Seokjin headed to Hybe with them after their shared meal: there were too many things to discuss, too much administrative stuff to take care of. Seeing their managers hurt, their faces when their eyes landed on him, the betrayal, the new pity too he could read in their eyes. He was a victim in people’s minds now, on top of being someone who gave up.
He was sitting in the smaller meeting room that was adjacent to Bang Shi Hyuk’s office. The man himself came in after a call and Seokjin learned about the company’s plans. He was surrounded by a team but they were not seeing him, not really, he thought. The report had provided them with names, which made things easier. The tricky part and what made everyone argue between one another in front of Seokjin, was finding out how to sue… None other than the government. And really, Seokjin would have laughed in other circumstances! There had been so many instances in which he had dreamt of doing so. They asked him for clarifications on witnesses’ statements, fact-checking stories after stories. Were the places right? Was the time-frame making sense according to all that had been verified before? Was the number of assaulters correct? They needed to know in which instances he had fought back, when had he spoken up, told them to stop? To whom had he complained, what was their grade, did he remember their exact dismissive words?
And Seokjin… Seokjin truly dreamt of a world where bad people faced karma in the worst way for everything they’d done… But he was only a tiny human being with a fragile, tired heart, wasn’t he? And this was so difficult. It hurt so much. They didn’t notice. Why would they? It was not about him. It was about power. It was about who controlled the narrative. And he understood that they had to do this, that they had to make an example so that his babies… so that they were safe… But he couldn’t revisit these memories like this, one question followed by another, conjuring up images until his breath caught up in his throat until his clammy palms hurt like ice and he started shivering and shaking in his seat.
“For the trial, you will–”
“No.”
“What?”
“You’re not making me do this, you have no right.”
“Seokjin-ah, we cannot let them get away with–” Bang Shi-Hyuk attempted to explain.
“I am not doing this. If you take it to court, I am not testifying.”
One of the managers slapped his hand on the backrest of a chair.
“Be reasonable, Seokjin-ah.”
Seokjin raised his gaze to him before he got up, not trusting his legs, holding onto the table. “Oh,” he laughed, “I’m sorry, I didn't realise my obedience was more important than my well-being.”
“Seokjin-ah, let’s take a break to breathe a little,” Bang PD suggested.
The door opened behind them. Seokjin looked at Bighit music's biggest producer. “I’ll give you what you need, I'm not stepping into that courtroom.”
The man nodded, seemingly satisfied.
“Come on, that’s how trials work!” someone complained, exasperated.
“Yeah? Against the victims is that how?” He whispered. “You won’t force me to be in the sa-same room as them ever again.” He inhaled to calm down his voice. “I won’t. Not for you, not for anyone. I don’t owe you anything.”
He got up to leave but instead, was met with the members, all aligned along the wall, silent. They swarmed to him, a circle-shaped protection squad as they escorted him out of the room, in time for the panic attack to fully kick in.
Since his trainee days, Seokjin had been rowing against the tide to catch up on required skills to become an idol, to catch up to societal expectations. It felt like a never-ending chase and sometimes the flow helped him, sometimes, he felt completely bogged down in his meaningless obstinacy. No one could be the main character of your own life, it always was a solitary path and he hadn’t seen much of a point to it until his six angels became his entire world.
And right now, as he sat back in Bang Shi Hyuk’s office with Kim Namjoon standing behind him, the leader a quiet but raging storm, Seokjin thought it’d be worth all the struggle if he got to rewrite all the sad moments through déjà-vus reshaped with love and support.
“Hyung, I just thought of something… What about permission days?”
Seokjin bit his lip. “What about them?”
“You never came back.”
“Well, no, our team was busy enough. I was stationed far away from Seoul, I don't know if you knew that? yeah so asking to come back home for a few days, I didn’t want to be a bother.”
Namjoon’s hold onto the backrest of Seokjin’s seat made the material creak.
“Was that… an information you were told?” He raised a finger when Seokjin went to respond. “Don’t answer that, actually, list me the managers you were in contact with during that time instead.”
“Hey, Joon-ah…” Seokjin tried to appease him, touching his forearm.
Namjoon gave his shoulder a squeeze. “No, I’m done.”
They spent two hours going over Seokjin’s relations with the team of managers who had been assigned to him when he was enlisted. Namjoon refused to let anyone forget who the members were to the company, the numbers that the board committee had had to pull out in recognition of the astronomical weight of Bangtan on Hybe’s sales. But they seemed to be preaching to the choir: Bang Shi Hyuk admitted that some things had made him tick, from shady Weverse articles about some members to some attempts to monetise the artists’ means of communication to the fans… Choices had been made for which he hadn’t been consulted and of which he didn’t approve. To Namjoon and Seokjin’s surprise, he mentioned how secretive the higher-ups had been about the eldest member's lay off. Bang Shi Hyuk himself had only learnt about it once it was stamped down and done.
“I was in the U.S.A. at the time, to hire new in-house producers.”
He asked Seokjin about details but there was nothing much to be told. “I said I wanted out so they handed me papers to sign, half an hour using my dojang and it was done. A few days later, the money I owed was out of my bank account.”
Namjoon panicked. “And you didn’t think anything of it?”
“There are legal requirements in such situations. With your mental state… Seokjin-ssi, you sold away your shares in the company.”
He nodded, he had realised that afterwards but at the time, there’d just been fear and an instinctive struggle to free himself. There was no long-term distance and plans in such a headspace.
“I can’t use “Jin” either anymore in professional settings. That’s why I changed my instagram handle a few days ago, before I announced my little collaboration with Chef Baek Jong Won.”
He had changed it to Seokjinnie , he knew the right people would still find him. Actually, most people navigated that app better than he did, he thought, smiling to himself.
“When you’re all back and the time comes, you come to me, you understand? I didn’t spend ten years of my career harassing you to be perfect to let you down when you’re doubting yourself. I disagree with your fans, whatever those trucks say.”
Seokjin smiled, pleasantly surprised by the supportive words. “Trucks?”
“In front of the building,” Namjoon told him. There was something in his voice that made Seokjin turn around to look at him. He was already watching him. “They… they want you to take that opportunity to launch yourself as a solo artist.”
They showed him from one of those humongous windows in the corridor: three big trucks with electrical boards were parked there, blocking most of the driveway. In red light, the slogan read:
“Free Kim Seokjin”
“Hybe Sabotage”
“Kim Seokjin, our moon, shines brighter on his own.”
Behind him, he could feel Namjoon’s growing uneasiness, wiggling and fidgeting.
“Would that–”
Seokjin’s gaze silenced him.