•  🥀  • chapter one •  🥀  •

Jimin had always been good at stories. Illusions. Lies.

He could always paint you a pretty picture. Draw you a map to lead you right where he wanted you. Spin a story that seemed so airtight that even he could believe it was true.

Almost.

The Story is this:

Jimin called Taehyung a little after 1 a.m.

This wasn't strange for them, all you had to do was look at their phone history over the years (and the carefully concealed under-eye circles) to corroborate this claim.

"They've always been like this," Min Yoongi added in his interview with the investigators. "They drop everything to watch dramas with each other. Luckily they keep it down so I can sleep."

Jimin had called, after 1 a.m.,  in a perfectly typical-for-them call, to propose an impromptu film fest and Taehyung wholeheartedly accepted the plan.

This was something they did. This was their thing.

So it goes, that Jimin dropped a kiss to his husband's cheek and was swatted away - "Seung-hyun hates- h-hated being woken up" - before he went to spend the rest of the night with his best friend.

"I told him he'd better bring my favorite gummies." Taehyung shrugged in the interrogation room, sound-proofed walls between him and his best friend. He was clearly exhausted, emotionally and physically. He turned toward the two-way glass as if his concerned eyes could still see Jimin, "Is Minnie okay? Please make sure he's drinking water."

"I brought his favorite gummies," Jimin paused to sob, "And I brought our - Seung-hyun's and mine - favorite h-honey twists." He rubbed the tears from his eyes and sniffled before taking the paper cup of water slid toward him. "Thank you."

The alibi said that they watched - well, half-watched - movies. Shit-talked a bit about people they knew. Consumed calories Jimin would surely pay for later. And Jimin called his husband, with no answer, to his disappointment, before he went to bed.

Check the records. It's all there.

He was at Taehyung's all night.

And everything did check out, investigators agreed.

There was no motive and the widower - as indicated on the lie detector test - answered every question truthfully confirming that he was simply a broken-hearted victim of tragedy.

Jimin went to Taehyung and Yoongi's. He hadn't left until he received a call from the coroner the next day. The apartment building's entry security camera would verify everything.

The case was open and shut.

But there were no cameras on the fire escape.

There were... there were no cameras on the fire escape.

Jimin arrived at Taehyung's building at 2:17am, face screwed into a calm expression for the benefit of the entry camera, hands holding a bag of movie snacks that they opened and scattered on the coffee table. Snacks that neither of them would ever indulge in that night.

There were no cameras in the apartment to see his harried cries pulling Taehyung's roommate, Min Yoongi, out of his room where he'd been pacing.

No account of when Jimin proceeded to explain that he'd killed his husband tonight, how the body lay lifeless in their 1600 thread-count sheets.

No record of the "Jimin how", the  "Jimin- what the fuck happened?!".

No evidence of the "please, please- there's no time - oh god... please!" and coming to terms with the fact that they needed to help Jimin, whether or not they understood the real story.

No witness to the three of them talking out a plan.

No proof of them creating The Story. No cameras to capture as they all sat around the coffee table, cuing Jimin as he shot texts to a dead body at meticulously timed intervals-

JIMIN:
love you
wish you had come with :c
2:57am

JIMIN:
but now i get honey twists to myself >:3
or at the very least..
i only have to fight yoongi for them
instead of both of you
{image sent}

>:(
2:59am

JIMIN:
this movie is scary why did i do this T-T
3:15am

No cameras when they ran down the fire escape, skipping steps, Taehyung scraping his knee on their way to the car Yoongi parked underneath as soon as Taehyung had gotten Jimin's first panicked call.

No cameras when Jimin left the voicemail in the car, thirty minutes after an agonizing wait time (for the preservation of The Story) as they raced to deal with the body-

"Baby! Good, I didn't wake you. Just about to go to sleep- we gave up on that movie and Taehyungie and I are probably going to sleep with the lights on now. Don't make fun of me. I love love love you! {*kissy noise*} Let's go to the lake tomorrow, yeah?"

Not a sign of where they'd pulled up just outside the home Jimin shared with his now late husband.

Parked well under cover of the trees dotting the edge of the property, carrying a barrel together to avoid dragging in on the ground, avoid leaving any additional marks to what would soon be scorched earth.

Three trips.

Six bottles.

One barrel.

One match.

•  🥀  •

The three sat, well enough away from the crackling structure. Their backs cold, unprotected from the night air. Faces hot, aglow and airways irritated by the dark gray plumes of smoke.

But they had to stay.

Had to keep the flames in check until they'd reduced to ash. Had to keep it under control.

Control.

Jimin couldn't hold it in anymore.

Laughing, seeing the punchline in all of this. A joke no one was brave enough to point out - because what kind of person would joke about this? Who could joke right now?

Jimin could.

Because none of them could control the flames that willed Jimin to consume, that willed him to destroy again.

He laughed softly as the flames grew higher and Taehyung put a hand to his shoulder - "Minnie?" - as if afraid he'd already cracked.

But that only made him laugh a little harder, losing his balance and falling to the side before grasping at Taehyung's shoulder to keep himself upright.

"Minnie, are you okay?"

A pause as Jimin let his laughter subside, and then he turned, flames dancing in his eyes, "Never better."

"Minnie..."

"Mm?"

Taehyung was silent, looking at Yoongi, whose face was bathed in the warm light of the fire, orange and yellow flickered in his dark eyes. The oldest nodded, encouraging him.

So he started again.

"Minnie... Are you... "

"Are you going to tell us what happened?"

The real story was this:

to be continued 🥀

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