̶̶̶̶  «̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ «̶ ̶̶̶  Epilogue  ̶ ̶ ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ »̶ ̶̶̶  

The boy looked scared—there was no doubt about it. But he tried to hide it. Jimin could tell that he wanted to be strong, the poor thing. But it was more obvious than not. Jimin could see right through him.

After all, he was just like this boy once.

"Yeosang Kang," Jimin greets. "From District 7. What an absolute pleasure I have in meeting you. I've always wanted to visit District 7, you know. The greenery must be a sight to behold, am I correct?"

Slowly, the boy nods. "...I've always been fond of it."

"I'm sure," Jimin sits beside him. "My name is Jimin, I'm twenty-three years old, and I'm your stylist for The Games. I'm originally from District 1, but I had the pleasure of moving to The Capital for the purpose of dolling you up for everything ahead."

"How can you live here..?" Yeosang breathes. "You just look so...normal."

"I hardly think the jewels under my eyes are normal, but I'll take that as a compliment from you," He smiles a charming smile. "I try to stick to my roots for the most part."

Loss of identity was what terrified Jimin the most these days. He struggled to even dye his hair blonde that first time a few years ago—now it was his signature color. He wore vibrant but simple clothes, usually only one color at a time, in basic silhouettes. Today, he wore an evergreen-colored sweater, finding it fitting for the district he was in charge of. His nails matched in color to a T.

The only thing he played around with at all was makeup, realizing that it was something he actually did enjoy. Gone were the days of him caring for herds of cows—oh how he missed them so. Gone too though, were the days he worried his looks were too feminine. He wasn't masculine, he wasn't feminine, he was Jimin. He did feel beautiful these days...it was a comfortable feeling.

Instead of participating in the thoughts and actions of his past, he spent his time with Taehyung learning new styles and tricks to creating art on his face. Today was simple though—just some glitter on and under his eyes to make them look bigger.

"I see..." The tribute trails.

"How are you doing, Yeosang? Truly? I'd like to get to know you a bit," Jimin speaks softly, trying to embody the stylist that comforted him for the first time all those years ago. "I'm so sorry you're going through this."

Shock flashes across the boy's face. "...Really?"

Jimin nods. "I may be privileged enough to live in The Capital now, but I'm still a district kid at heart. I'm not asking for you to rebel against The Capital—that would be stupid. I just...I hope I can make you feel less alone as you prepare for what's ahead."

"O-oh," Yeosang shakes his head a few times. He was silent for a little while. "...I'm just so confused. Why does it have to be this way? Why do we have to die?"

A light goes off in Jimin's mind. But he doesn't let it show. "I know, Yeosang...it's just how the world works right now."

"That's a terrible answer," Yeosang states bluntly. "I'm sorry, but it is."

"I wish I could offer you a better one," Jimin sighs. This was always the hardest part—meeting the tributes. All of them helpless and lost...just like he once was.

Only this time, it was as if Jimin was staring at his eighteen-year-old self. Yeosang was so much like he once was. In fact...he kind of reminded him of a combination of himself and Taehyung.

"Why are you even here?" The tribute asks. "How can you participate in an event like this?"

"The same way mentors do," Jimin shrugs. "It's to bring a bit of humanity back into The Games. I'm not saying I'm saving the world by making you look all pretty, but the least you deserve is a reminder that you're still human."

It had started getting easier—filling the role of the stylist. But everything out of his mouth felt like the words of someone else. He held the same sentiments as the words he said—of course he did—but it was a script, nothing more...Jimin wasn't himself anymore. And he supposed that was okay, for now. He hadn't lost himself just yet—not completely. But...every year he grieves for the boy that was once in a chair just like this boy from District 7. It was one of the last times he was ever allowed to live without a script.

Yeosang says nothing, and Jimin supposes that's okay. "Now, I'm going to bring the stylist team in. They're an enthusiastic trio, you know. You'll be their doll. Just do what they say, alright? It'll be over much faster if you just play along for a little bit."

"...Alright," He stares at the older. With a jolt of hope, Jimin sees what looks like a bit of trust flash in the tributes eyes. He hopes that was what it was—that he interpreted it correctly.

"Good," Jimin pats his knee with his left hand.

Yeosang looks down. "I like your ring."

"Oh," Jimin breaks out into a real, genuine smile. "Thank you. My husband gave it to me. I know I'm young to be married—he's even younger if you can believe it. But things just move so fast in The Capital. It's nice to have a bit of stability up here."

"Yeah..." He trails.

"I hope to be your stability in the days you stay here," Jimin's voice softens. "Be aware that there are ears everywhere, but with that in mind, please feel free to share whatever you wish with me. I truly am here for you, Yeosang."

And, after a while, Yeosang says, "...Thank you."

"Alright, it's time for me to leave now, before you rope me into another tangent," Jimin chuckles a bit. "A warning in advance—I'm a bit chatty. But I'll be back before you know it, don't you worry."

He stands, waving to Yeosang one last time, before walking out the door.

The second he's alone, he screws his eyes shut, taking a deep breath.

It never gets easier.

But at least this time, he had hope.

He calls for the stylists, then walks away to the lounge he knew he'd find his favorite people in. It's where they all meet on the first day of preparations, and where they run off to when they get any sort of break during The Games. They had designated it as theirs—one of the only lounges that was often empty—and so Victoria Falconeer just ended up giving it to them.

He trots down the stairs to the sixth floor, quickened pace, adrenaline—the good kind this time—rushing through his veins. And off to the room marked 613. Jimin thought it was a cute enough number. It sure meant a lot to him now.

Jimin pushes open the door, and with a smile, realizes that he was the last one to join.

"Yoongi!" He beams, bee-lining it for his former mentor. "A year is such a long time."

"You say that every year," Yoongi chuckles, giving him a hug.

"At this point it's bad luck if I don't," Jimin laughs with him. "It's basically a tradition in itself."

"Yooni was waiting to see you," Hoseok pipes up with a smile. "He simply could not stop talking about how excited he was to catch up with you and Jungkook."

"I did not say that!" Yoongi pulls away immediately. He turns to Jimin. "I did not say that."

"It's okay, I didn't miss you either," Jimin makes a teasing face.

"That's not what you were saying just yesterday," Taehyung walks up to the both of them. His smile was one of Jimin's favorites. He was so different from the young District 1 tribute Jimin met half a decade ago, but it was a change for the better.

"Hush! He doesn't need to know," Jimin hits him lightly. His scar was covered up with makeup today—Jimin's was too. It was simply too recognizable a feature on them. But Jimin loved Taehyung's scar, and Taehyung loved Jimin's. What was once a reminder of a terrible thing that had happened to the both of them now made them feel closer to each other. "I need to maintain my tough persona!"

"Please, saying you're tough is like saying Jungkook doesn't love you," Yoongi scoffs. "Impossible. Everyone knows the way you treat me is an act."

Jimin smirks. "Just like yours?"

"Hey, I do a pretty damn good job when I'm not around you guys!" The mentor defends.

"He does," Hoseok acknowledges. "Those tributes have been scared into determination already."

The District 10 escort wore bright colors, but if anything, he had toned down since the 100th Hunger Games. His hair was more a natural auburn than the bright red that Jimin had met him with. He wore a royal purple suit—but that was the only color. It wasn't the rainbow explosion that he used to adorn.

"Enough about me, enough about The Games, we can get to all that later," Yoongi waves a hand. "Jimin, Jungkook, how was your guys' first anniversary? What did you do?"

"Oh, you know," Jungkook comes at Jimin from behind, giving his lover a back hug. His muscles had grown so much in the past few years, exercise becoming a passion of his since moving to The Capital. Jimin felt secure in his arms. "Work...that's about it."

"That's it?" Yoongi presses. "You didn't do anything special?"

"They spend all of their time together, you know that, Yoongi," Namjoon's dimples compliment his charming grin. He was the happiest of any of them, Jimin thinks. He was finally doing something with his life that had meaning. That was all he had ever wanted. "I hardly think an anniversary would be special to them."

"It really isn't," Jimin confirms. "I don't need 365 days to go by to be grateful that he and I are both alive and together."

Jungkook kisses the back of his head in response.

Jimin was so proud of his husband. He was a phenomenal Gamemaker. While never the best in school, Jungkook excelled in whatever Capital technology was put in front of him. He was good with both his hands and his brain—quite frankly he was good at really anything he put his mind to. The ideas he had, and the code he produced was of high stature—he and Namjoon ranked the highest of all the Gamemakers, even the ones from The Capital.

"That's true, but nothing?" Yoongi goes on.

"Leave them alone, they're happy, who cares?" Jin laughs, sipping his tea. "They're thriving, Yoongi, isn't that what matters?"

"We're all doing very well for ourselves," Jungkook moves so he's next to Jimin, hand wrapped around his waist. "I never thought I'd see the day when everyone I loved was doing well."

"Your parents are still doing just fine, by the way," Yoongi addresses the former District 10 tributes. "I'm still taking care of them."

"I'll never be able to thank you enough for that," Jungkook stares at him warmly.

"You know I'd do anything for you guys," Yoongi gets a bit softer as he speaks. He really is so sweet under his prickly exterior.

"We feel the exact same way," Jungkook pats his shoulder.

"What a wonderful thing we're all together again," Seokjin notes, a wide, comforting smile on his face—very similar to the one he met Jimin with. "A light in the dark of The Games."

"I'd be here a lot more often if I could stomach The Capital," Yoongi jokes.

"Hey, it's not like we're here by choice," Jimin points out with a laugh. "The Capital is convenient, but it's not where I'd live if I had a choice. I'm never quite myself here."

But thank goodness for Jungkook. Jungkook was the one who was able to keep him truly grounded here—of course he was. Jungkook knew the Jimin before this crazy Capital version. Jungkook remembered the version of Jimin that the older wished so badly to be again. He made him feel like that Jimin whenever they were alone together.

Jungkook kept Jimin sane.

"Yeah, but you're still a brat," Yoongi smirks. Jimin makes a face in response.

"Anyways," Seokjin cuts in. "How was your tribute, Honey? How was he feeling?"

"Oh!" Jimin visibly brightens at his words. "Seokjin...I might have one. I might have a contender this year! His name is Yeosang, he's eighteen, a-and...well, he reminds me of who I used to be."

The room erupts in congratulations. Multiple people move into hug Jimin, but once the small burst of celebration was over, Jungkook's arm was right back around Jimin's waist.

"That's so wonderful," Seokjin smiles. "I'll coach you through everything, and I'll tell Victoria to keep an eye out."

"We'll be watching him from now on," Namjoon vows.

"Thanks...I'm just so happy," Jimin screws his eyes shut. "Finally. I may finally save a kid's life."

"The first one is always a wonderful feeling," Seokjin nods. "Though I am a bit partial to you out of everyone."

Jimin stares back at him warmly. "I'm honored."

"Good job, Mimmie," Jungkook whispers into his hair. "You're going do an amazing job this year, even more than normal."

"Yeah?" Jimin turns to him, and suddenly, the room gets smaller. Suddenly, it was only Jungkook in the room with him. He so easily gets lost in the younger's beautiful doe eyes.

"Well you always do phenomenally," Jungkook points out. "But...well, this year, perhaps hope will be able to drive you even further."

"Hope is what has kept us alive all this time," Jimin murmurs. And just like that, a thousand wordless memories flash between the two of them—Jimin sees it on his face, Jungkook was thinking exactly what he was. All the times they felt death's tender touch, but were able to flee from its grasp.

It used to haunt Jimin—it still does sometimes. For now though, it mostly reminds him how lucky he is to love Jungkook every single day.

"They're still in the honeymoon phase?" Yoongi breaks them out of their trance with a loud jest. Jimin looks away, but he isn't embarrassed. They all know how Jimin and Jungkook are.

Taehyung smiles with a joking twinkle in his eyes. "Constantly."

"It sickens me," But Yoongi was smiling the widest, gummy smile.

"All the more reason to love him in front of you," Jimin's heart swells with warmth.

All the people in his life—his found family, happy. It was the most beautiful thing Jimin had ever seen.

He turns back to Jungkook, just as jubilant. The fact that he once thought he wouldn't get to live the rest of his life with this man makes him even more grateful the two could even breathe next to one another. And they were doing great—all things considered. It wasn't perfect—not by a long shot—but it was more than Jimin could've ever hoped for.

"I'll need to head back soon," Jimin tells the room, but he looks at Jungkook as he does. "Make sure the prep team isn't scaring the poor boy. They still kind of scare me."

"Well, we'll have plenty of time to be together in the next few weeks," Hoseok reminds. "Today is an important day for you stylists. Good luck!"

"Thank you," Jimin smiles.

"I'll walk you out," Jungkook speaks up, so the pair leave together.

"Make sure to come back as soon as possible tonight," Jungkook kisses his cheek when they're in the hallway. "So we can talk."

"I know," Jimin stares at him warmly. Every night they do a check in with each other—how their day was, the good, the bad, everything. It was always, of course, of even more importance during this season. Emotions were high in all directions over these few weeks. "Right now I'm doing okay though. The anxiety is there, obviously, but it's better than years' past so far...how are you?"

"I'm trying to avoid whatever information I can," Jungkook shrugs. The statement didn't surprise Jimin—he didn't like learning about kids he knew would die and stay dead. They were different in that way. Jimin still learned what he could about most tributes, he watched most of the interviews with Seokjin. He wanted to know them—it fueled him even more to work for change. "I'm swamped with work, which helps, but it's exhausting. Overall though, I'm okay. I have you, so I'll be just fine."

"I feel the same way," He pecks his husband's lips. "I have to go now. I'll be be back as soon as possible."

"I know you will," The taller smiles softly. "You're going to make District 7 look amazing, like always."

"I hope so," Jimin huffs out a laugh. "I'll see you later, Koo."

"I'll miss you every second we're apart," He jokes quietly. He was so different from the cold boy their peers knew back in District 10. That change Jimin loved. He loved that Jungkook didn't need to put on that persona anymore. It was never him anyways.

"I'll miss you more," And with that, he walks away with a smile, a new sense of hope and determination leaving with him.  

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