"Joon-ah," Yoongi calls through the door, "Joon-ah, can I come in?"
It's only been a few hours since Namjoon got the news, he isn't fine. He is so not fine. He's been laying in bed, flipping through his phone to stare at the few pictures he had collected of Seokjin.
When he got to the image he had taken of the lock, the lock that they had taken to Namsan Tower with both of their initials on it, he could feel a bitter acridity of jealousy when he stared at the locks around theirs.
Surely the majority of couples had made it through together. It was probably easier for them, they didn't hold the weight of a whole country on their shoulders, nor did they separate from each other because of death.
Other romances probably went a lot better than his.
There was an aching feeling in his chest. This was all because of who he was. Because of the family he had been born into.
He, Kim Namjoon, King of Korea who had been born into a life of being told what to do and how to be and how to talk and think and move.
You should also make decisions that make you happy.
Seokjin. Seokjin had been a breath of fresh air when the lifestyle he lived in suffocated him.
You should also make decisions that make you happy.
Happiness. That seemed unattainable at the moment.
Unable to take the pain anymore, he reached into his drawers and pulled out the alcohol.
He'd think about happiness later. Right now, he needed something to make the ache in his heart go away. Needing to numb the pain, needing desperately to make it go away, he drank glass after glass.
It didn't help. He'd remember why he was drinking and then the pain would just come back all over again.
A part of him still wanted to cling on to hope. Still wanted to believe there was still a chance.
But the pictures were right next to his bed and he seemed like a lunatic repeating the process over and over.
Grief was a funny thing.
The thing about the death of a loved one, is that the universe sometimes gives you a chance to say goodbye when the other knows he's going to die.
It seemed like Seokjin knew.
They had had closure that day, they had joked with each other backstage and flirted.
All of it seemed so perfect. They both had been fine.
Stupid Seokjin, is a thought that comes to Joon's mind. Hadn't he talked and talked about putting himself first and loving himself first?
Yet at his last moment he selflessly begged for Namjoon to save Jimin and probably also did it thinking that if Namjoon went down there he himself could've been under the rubble.
Stupid Seokjin. Why go so far for me?
He broke down again. It didn't surprise him anymore how weak he was, tears hadn't stopped falling from his face. Yoongi was right outside his door and the other must've just gotten tired of pretending that he didn't hear Namjoon's continuous sobs into the sheets.
"Joon-ah, please."
Namjoon needs company anyway. It's saddening to drink alone. "Come in."
The door clicks open, Yoongi is one of the few people that know the code to his room, so he could've entered whenever he wanted, but Yoongi had given him space and had waited on his permission to enter.
Yoongi is a good friend.
"I shouldn't drink on the job," Yoongi reminds him when he sits on the bed and Namjoon extends the bottle out to him.
Namjoon isn't having that for an answer. He pours his friend a glass, all but shoves it in his face. "Drink it," he says firmly, "it's an order."
Yoongi sighs and takes it into his hands. Namjoon is staring at him and Yoongi just does what he says and one shots it down.
Before he's even finish, Namjoon is already pouring him another glass. "You know," he begins, "heartache seems to be a common thing with me. Remember when I wanted to marry you and you said no?"
"You were like ten, Namjoon."
"I was twelve, actually," Namjoon corrects him. "Still hurt. You were my gay awakening and you just flat out said no. You were Kook's too. And Geong-min also liked you when she was like eight." He frowns. "You're mean for not picking me though."
"There was too much pressure involved with marrying you," Yoongi says honestly, taking in another shot. The bottle was almost empty by now. "I didn't want to be king. Not my thing,"
Perhaps it wasn't the best thing he should say in this moment. No. It really wasn't the best thing to say right now considering the situation. But one thing that Namjoon could count on when it came to Yoongi was how direct he was. He never lied to him, never sugar coated anything. And that had always been a huge relief given all the people to lived just to suck up to him.
"Yeah, I get it," Namjoon laughs. It's awkward. "I don't even want to be king."
The bottle is empty now. Namjoon throws it aside and just throws himself on his back onto the bed. They just stay there in silence for a bit, it isn't uncomfortable. Yoongi's presence had always soothed Namjoon even back when they were kids.
"I'm scared," Namjoon finally says out loud.
Yoongi turns his head. They hold each other's gaze like they're silently speaking to each other through their eyes. Still, Namjoon has a need to just pour everything out.
"I don't care about many things in this world, Hyung," he admits. "I wasn't chosen as King because I'm qualified for it, I was chosen because my father was king and his father before him was king and his father before him was too."
"I'm twenty one fucking years old, Hyung. Does nobody understand that? I feel like I'm still a kid but everyone wants me to adult so fast and I don't remember even enjoying any of my childhood because I spent my whole life studying and working to receive the praise of others."
"And now, I find a person who makes me really happy, who treated me as something other than a man with a great title and wealth and he's taken from me because of the title I hold. And people are just expecting me to deal with it and pick someone else?"
A hand slips into his. It's large and cold. Yoongi's hands are always cold. But this was something he was used to. When Yoongi had nothing to say he would just hold Namjoon's hand.
And surprisingly enough, it managed to soothe him.
"I think," Yoongi says suddenly, "that you're wrong about something."
Joon lifts his head to look at him.
"You said you found a person that makes you happy. And I was happy for you when you did," he continues. "But Joon-ah, you could've just chosen Kim Seokjin from the start and married him, but you didn't because everyone told you that that wasn't right. That you needed to get to know everyone else first."
They said that the public would think him to be shallow, only to be after a pretty face. They told him that he needed to keep his eyes opened and literally sat down with him to show him the reasons why other candidates such as Jackson Wang or Park Chanyeol were better.
"And now, the guy you like is dead." Namjoon winces at his choice of words. "And they're still making you find someone else. Why? Why do you need someone else? Why can't it just be you?"
Grandma. His grandmother wanted him to have a family before the cancer got worse. She had made that decision. Not him.
Not him.
"You let others tell you what you need, but honestly? Fuck that, you're the only one who knows what you need." Yoongi stares at him dead in the eyes. "And if you don't want to get married, then don't."
Namjoon only wanted to get married to Seokjin. Namjoon wanted no one else but Seokjin.
With Seokjin gone, Namjoon wanted nothing more with this competition.
He was set on this.
"No," the Royal Queen dowager states firmly. "Absolutely not."
This was when Namjoon was sure that in some way the universe hated him. He had power over the court officials and advisers to make a decision. But with no sovereign powers, his grandmother was higher on the ladder than he was.
And she had just said no in front of the entire court officials and advisers.
"I did not bring in the whole country's gay men, just so you wouldn't pick one in the end." She's firm in her decision, her tone is clear. "You will continue on with the competition and you will pick one man to marry by the end of it."
This decision, of course, earns agreeing nods from the officials.
Namjoon feels like just saying "fuck it!" and stomping out. Of just dropping his title and leaving.
But him leaving would make the burden fall on Jungkook or Geong-min and he wasn't willing to just toss it like that to his younger siblings.
He raised his head, glared into the eyes of his grandmother who's scowl was unyielding. His grandmother was supportive of a lot of things, but as someone from a different generation than he, she had a strong belief in the importance of marriage.
It was a simple concept. The king had to be an example for his people. It was why Namjoon had taken etiquette lessons since he was young and had been basically molded into the 'perfect' royal for so many years. Apparently, people still believed that the youth of today still had to get married, have kids.
Their expectations haven't changed even when society changes almost every decade.
The grand public was already outraged at him being gay. There were even rebels against him, attacking his throne because of a simple preference.
They'd probably turn on him even more if he didn't continue on with this.
"There is no one left in the competition that I can even remotely consider to marry," Namjoon says, standing his ground.
"If I may, Your Majesty, did you not leave a spot open for a Kim Seokjin?" Minister Lee asks. "I assumed it's because you considered him, no? What has changed?"
He's mocking him. It's so obvious. Without Namjoon even announcing it, several news outlets had already reported finding of Seokjin's body. He had no idea how it had been done. Someone had leaked the info outside the palace.
"That spot will remain." Namjoon turns to his grandmother. "If you will not cancel the competition, then I at least ask for that spot to remain."
Petty. He was purposely being petty.
Another uproar of nonsense commentary against his request.
"That would be pointless!"
"We'll be mocked by our enemies!"
"The war, Your Majesty, the war!"
"Shut up, all of you!" the Royal Queen dowager commands, her voice booming and silencing every single one of them. She huffs a breath and pinches the bridge of her nose. "Regarding Kim Seokjin. In response to the announcement of his death, we will honor him by holding his funeral open to the public. We will hold a ceremony, since he did in a way sacrifice himself for another candidate to be able to live."
Namjoon accepted this. The officials grumbled but nodded.
"As for the competition," she continues, "since my grandson is clear on his decision that there is no one of his interest, then the competition from now on will continue in a different way."
"Since the last event was a disaster," she continues, "with an ill candidate, one dead and one getting injured by his father on live television, I will revoke that event from being taken into consideration for the final title of the King's Spouse." She gives Joon a look. "This means that Kim Seokjin's spot will remain for the next round, but the rules still apply to him."
It's fine, Namjoon tells himself. He knew it'd come to this. He clutches at the ring still hanging from his neck from on top of his shirt.At this point in his grief he had reached acceptance, even if the pain of it was still there. Even if Seokjin's memory still haunts him.
"Now," the queen says, leaning back on her throne, "let's talk about the next event."