"Oh, look at that." Myungsoo hummed. Jungkook felt a little strange about that comment, mainly because Myungsoo had said that as if he had just heard there was a yard sale in town.

Yoongi and Jungkook glanced at the boy, who didn't seem at least a little bit disturbed that someone died in such a gruesome way.

Was this guy insane?

"I'm going to go." Yoongi muttered and started walking to the door.

Jungkook wanted to come with him but Yoongi always pushed him back; he didn't want his Kookie to be in any kinds of trouble.

Jungkook sighed and continued to stare at the TV.

"I wonder why this person murdered that poor guy..."

"Psychopaths are unpredictable. They're fucked in the head."

Jungkook turned his attention to Myungsoo. Hearing Myungsoo's opinion on this was interesting, mainly because he didn't say a lot anyway.

"Is that what you think?"

"It's what I know."

"Oh?" Jungkook was curious now. Myungsoo was interesting as a whole. Honestly, Myungsoo was so fucking cute Jungkook couldn't stop looking at him whenever he was here.

"This guy probably felt a little guilty for what he did, but he most likely has problems and he's too pathetic to actually not be whatever the fuck he is."

"Uh, that's kind of a weird way of looking at it..."

"Maybe." It went a bit awkward after that, but then he asked, "Where did Yoongi go?"

"O-Oh, uh... I dunno." Jungkook averted his eyes.

Myungsoo narrowed his, knowing fully well that Jungkook was lying. "Did it have something to do with the murder on TV?"

Jungkook tried looking Myungsoo in the eyes but he felt it was impossible. "No..."

Myungsoo quirked an eyebrow. The pink haired boy then leaned forward, his face a few inches apart from Kookie's. "Is he going to see something about the murder on TV?"

Jungkook immediately glanced down at his pink plump lips, imagining what sinful things they could do. He also smelled godly. So fucking delicious... "He-He's not." He hiccupped.

The pink haired boy rustled his hair messily, staring with hooded eyes. He started biting the bottom of his lip, leaning in a little more, his sweet breath touching Jungkok's face. "Kookie, I know there's something going on with Yoongi. Why can't you tell me what's wrong with him?"

The darker haired boy did his best to look away. This boy... How old was he anyway??? Trying to get his way with looks... "You're gonna have to talk it out with Yoongi—"

"I don't want to!" Myungsoo unexpectedly snapped back at him with frustration, pulling back. "I want to hear it from you."

Jungkook was shocked; why did Myungsoo freak over needing to ask Yoongi? It was his stuff...

"Please, I promise I won't tell. I pinky promise! I'm good at keeping my word, I just need to know. I need to!" At this point he was begging, which was pretty odd. He was this desperate to know that Yoongi had lost his memories? Even so, Jungkook couldn't refuse that, could he?

"Okay."

"Really?"

"Yeah, so calm down, okay?"

The pink haired boy just looked more nervous after that. "Uh, well, Yoongi lost his memories from 6 years ago or so."

"Yeah yeah," Myungsoo dismissed that part like it was nothing to him, "Why did he go see the murder scene?" Myungsoo then pointed to the empty couch, "Did it have something to do with that butterfly painting?" To Jungkook, he looked rather excited and a hint of something else shone in his eyes, though he couldn't figure out what.

It seemed that Myungsoo had a thing for Yoongi.

"Um..." He scratched the back of his head, wondering if Yoongi would murder him once he told Myungsoo all of this. "Yeah."

The pink haired boy picked at his knitted glove, this time looking troubled. Why did he have so many feelings bundled up inside of him like that? Was he just really emotional? But why?

Myungsoo pulled a smile (though it looked a bit awkward), "Thank you, Kookie." He then lifted himself up, "I had fun playing truth or dare. We should play it again some time. Thanks for the information – I promise I won't tell at all. Trust me." He bowed, and walked to his room.

Jungkook sighed, cleaning up the beer cans. He was worried for Myungsoo. What was that all about anyway? Was he okay? Did murder scenes actually scare him?

"I was the one who came up with the idea, but did I really have to clean it all up?!" He whined to himself. "Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa~~"

-  -  -  - 

He closed the door, effectively locking it, and immediately fell to the floor, crying silently in the dark.

"Why do I hurt so much? I'm supposed to feel angry!"

He pulled out his phone that he'd been ignoring all day, dying inside to know what Jin had said to him. He hated Jin, he really did, but he was still someone ... helpful to him.

There weren't any fucking messages.

"Fuck!" He didn't want to come as desperate...! He put his head in between his knees, curling himself in a ball momentarily.

Jin, please, talk! I need you. I need someone... I need... Him.

"I'm so broken... He won't ever love me." Like seriously, I'm fucked up. I'm so fucked up.

Myungsoo wiped his face, though tears were still falling as he chuckled dryly at himself. He glanced at his phone, already typing something in before he could process what he was even doing.

Park: Did you do something to him? Why doesn't he remember?

He managed to slide himself beside his bed – Yoongi's bed, and held tightly to the blanket. He leaned against it, yearning for comfort. Yearning for someone in particular, yet fucking hating them. Still he couldn't help but put his nose against the soft fabric, smelling Yoongi's scent.

His notification came on. He looked back down at his screen, feeling like a fool for what he just did.

J: He who? You're going to have to be more specific, Park Myungsoo.

The pink haired boy shed another tear, this time because he missed his name so much. His real name. Not even Jin would call him his name now. It was all because he was being rebellious – he knew that – but he just wanted to feel like he belonged somewhere. He felt so torn inside...

But right now, at Jin, he felt anger more than anything else.

Park: YOU KNOW WHO!

Park: WHY DOESN'T HE REMEMBER?

Park: I THOUGHT YOU SAID HE—

Before he could send that text, Jin was typing, and Myungsoo stopped because he so dearly needed an answer.

J: Baby, I'm coming.

He erased his text.

Park: Jin, I don't think you need to. I'm so pissed I could kill you.

J: Don't worry, I know you won't. Besides, I saw the news.

Myungsoo gulped, wiping at his sticky face.

Park: I'm fine.

J: You got angry, baby.

Myungsoo's tight grip on his phone was getting to the point where the pixels on the rims were blackening a bit.

Park: I'm not.

J: That's okay, I'll still come. Besides, it will be more efficient if I'm there when we see which part of our bet wins.

Fuck you. Fuck you, Jin.

He left the text alone, knowing he was still going to come no matter what.

He sighed sadly, putting his face in his hands.

"How am I supposed to tell them...?"

  Ƹ̴Ӂ̴Ʒ Ƹ̴Ӂ̴Ʒ Ƹ̴Ӂ̴Ʒ   

poor myungsoooooo :c

so, what do u guys think is happening? 

id like to see wot u guys r thinking about this!