When anger foments, it becomes the most pungent liquor distilled for quite a time; it turns into a poisonous beverage; drinking it could be fatal; it kills instantly.

"Jimin, open the door." Taehyung knocked and kicked vigorously at the entrance of Jimin's house after several failed attempts to unlock the digital lock with the password his friend provided, "open the fucking door before I break it, Jimin."

The sort of ire resulting from curbing different matters creates disasters similar to aggressive earthquakes; it shakes mountains, it swallows them under the ground; repressed anger has the same pattern a dying star has, it explodes at a certain point, leaving behind a black hole with an unreachable and unmeasurable end that lures whatever is in its surroundings with its supermassive gravity.

Betrayal is the first trigger of such a phenomenon. Betrayal is the primary source of tragedies.

In history, betrayal has been the reason behind shud tears; it killed friendship, slaughtering companionship and brotherhood in the process; For instance, when Julio Caesar witnessed the betrayal of his friend Bruto, the sword at his neck didn't matter, even though he was about to die, but the sight of the man closer to him than his own bloodline amused by the results of his terrible deeds did. "Et Tu, Brute?" Was all the betrayed friend muttered before drifting off into what might be a better place.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Jimin asked, surprised by the man who barged into his house like an unleashed dog suffering rage, yanking him on the wall as he led toward the foyer without as much as a greeting that would've cost him not even a penny; "I was in the bathroom, couldn't you be a bit patient? Fuck you; you woke up the whole neighborhood."

Taehyung threw his jacket on the sofa; he ran his fingers through his hair in one night more than he'd done in the past thirty years he had spent in this cruel world. Inhaling deeply, intending to soothe a fit of anger that wasn't exactly going to fade only with a mere oxygen intake, he waited for Jimin to join him in the living room.

Jimin watched with widened eyes as Taehyung opened his barrel cuffs and rolled his sleeves, exhibiting the protruding veins on his forearms as the muscles twitched mainly from the tension that overtook his body; "what's your problem, Taehyung? What's happened?"

Taehyung couldn't bother with an answer, for words weren't at his disposal, nor were they sufficient to explain his stance, but surprisingly, his glare conveyed unworldly his utter resentment. His actions weren't short in that regard either, resulting in a competition that ended with Taehyung opting for the latter as his choice of the day.

His fist turned his knuckles sheer white and deprived of blood, his nails dug deep inside his palm as he marched at a fast but confident pace toward Jimin's standing figure, and in the blink of an eye, Jimin found himself chilling on the cold ground with the corner of his lips bleeding.

The blow wasn't enough to deliver Taehyung's missing words, which is why he took it upon himself to explain further by pulling Jimin from the ground without allowing him time to process what he had gone through; he dragged and yanked the flustered man against the wall, letting the bitter coldness of it to complement the pain he was facing from the hard impact his body underwent, and the emotional one resulting from the incomprehension of the whole situation.

"And you consider yourself a friend?" Taehyung's words were out only when the grip he had on Jimin's neck was to his liking and satisfaction, firm and relentless, leaning toward depriving the man of his words that were a few seconds before, coming out easily, and replacing them with whimpers and growls when his breaths become erratic and threatening to run away leaving him under the clemency of the person he once considered a dear friend.

Caesar trusted Bruto too; never once had he considered that his ripper would be no other but his dear companion whom he favored even over his own self.

Neither did Jimin.

Or was it Taehyung, the one with a higher percentage on the scale of common points with the perished senator, Julio Caesar?

"le—let go—"Jimin coughed, his voice facing obstacles that severed it from coming without annoying stutters, "you—you're— you're killing me."

"No shit!" Taehyung's smile portrayed him as the latest upgraded edition of a psychopath. Frankly speaking, that was precisely the aim behind it; "it's no news, mate; it's only one of us walking alive from this house tonight."

Jimin wasn't the fragile type either; in fact, he had quite the muscular build, which helped him to finally counterattack Taehyung's abuse with a potent and precise punch on his friend's stomach; the latter allowed him to break free from the grasp that held him captive in the hands of the mad man whom, and due to unbearable pain on his rib, backed off groaning.

The slight difference between these two men, strength-wise, was that while Jimin was only in defense, trying his best to avoid death that night, Taehyung was in full attack mode, not to mention that the feelings both had were classified in different shelves. In contrast, Jimin had no motive to attack, and Taehyung had all the reasons in this world to murder without batting an eye.

Taehyung was folded in two like a used napkin, still suffering the trauma Jimin's attack had left behind when the older man led toward him again, brows puckered in a frightening frown; it was now his time to shine, his turn to feel what was like to be in control, and as the ambush hurt a bit more his pride than his face, the taste of revenge was perfectly to his liking, sweet and sour like his favorite sauce.

Grabbing Taehyung by the collar, Jimin spat his countenance firstly with deep frustrated breaths. When the latter ceased, courtesy of his brain counting inwardly attempting to distract the thoughts that were darkening it, he decided to open his mouth and resume his interrogation, "what's your fucking problem, huh? Words, common; I need to hear your reasons before I do something I'd regret.

Taehyung smirked, and Jimin was finding the situation everything but funny; that smile was starting to increase the level of his vexation, but not only, it also led him to locate a few red flags in his friend's comportment, and that was a sufficient ground for the waving of a white one when he felt Taehyung's palms on his fists, tossing them away with utter distaste, "I trusted you, Jimin, how could you do this to me?"

Taehyung pushed and kept repeating his motion until Jimin's back hit the wall once again; he was about to smash Jimin's beautiful face depriving the world of such artistical traits with his large palm, but he suddenly stopped, and his hand rested blocked in the air, making them look like a paused movie scene on a flat TV.

Taehyung opted for a safety distance that allowed air to flow between their standing figure, cleaning a bit the one polluted with disloyalty which they were breathing in, "I thought my enemies were known, and so my friends, never had I thought about being played by you, Jimin, you my friend."

Jimin that night had his fair share of shock; for a lifetime, he won't need to re-stock; The reasons for his bewilderment were manifold and roughly balanced between aggressiveness and reproach; they were the typical, insanity-driven patterns of behavior that Kim Taehyung had last sketched out.

No matter how often he'd prepared himself for such a confrontation, Jimin was never fully ready. No matter how much anticipated and expected it was, the shock it caused was still enough to get him crouching. At the same time, his hand covered his mouth before soliciting the other to bury them in the depth of his hair.

"Was it funny?" Taehyung moved his gaze from Jimin's figure momentarily to his left, where the light of street lamps was sneaking in from the window, only to pierce the man with another resentful glare shortly after the previous break, "I mean, did you enjoy mocking my oblivion? I hope at least I was a fun dummy to play with."

Jimin started waving friendship goodbye motionless, it was the end, and he was well aware; at a certain point, getting killed in that apartment by his friend seemed way more merciful than the words thrown at him like stones.

"Taehyung, listen," Jimin started, unsure what to say when the situation became barren and threatening, "I...let's... Taehyung, let's talk and sort it out in a civilized way."

Taehyung crouched to level with Jimin's figure and exhaled deeply before parting his lips, picking up from where he'd left before, "you betrayed my trust Jimin; for two entire years, you lied straight to my face; how could you do something this terrible to me? What I've done to you to deserve this, huh? HOW COULD YOU KILL MY CHILD? ANSWER ME, YOU SON OF A BITCH."

Jimin's eyes glistened with tears that were not supposed to show; he swallowed with great difficulty the lump in his throat and rose, leaving Taehyung scooched down and shedding the sort of tears that he couldn't stand watching any longer, for that night wasn't the night in which he could array compassion, especially toward his dearest friend.

"I would have told you had it been something related to you," he spat, urging Taehyung to look up toward his standing form, implanting all kinds of thoughts and doubts inside an already wounded man, "you never had a child, Taehyung, the child was mine, and I did what I did to rectify my mistake."

It was hard; it was a non-turning point, Jimin was well aware, and if anything, Taehyung's perplexed figure tinged with a black hue resulting from dire pique and complexed feelings confirmed it further. In no time, his actions corroborated in case of any left-behind spot for doubt, "come again," he ordered while pinching his nose, shortly diverting his gaze from Jimin as he sifted through his propinquities before resuming, "your... what now?"

"It was a weak moment," Jimin confessed, eyes refusing to meet Taehyung's, which reflected the shame he was buried in and rendered it more vivid, "I had recently broken up with Victoria; I was drunk, and she... she was just as lonely and weak," taking a break, Jimin kept an inspecting eye on Taehyung, almost scared of his silence, "listen, it was a mistake, that's why I did all I could to rectify it."

Taehyung didn't buzz; not a single word left his mouth as his brain registered what his ears heard, and when he figured Jimin was done with his explanation, he walked toward the couch, calmly grabbed his vest, and continued toward the door where Jimin was standing only a few inches away from, it seemed like he wouldn't stop his march, or at least, that's what Jimin hoped for. Still, to the man's dismay, Taehyung halted when their shoulders leveled, their faces looking at the opposite sides depicting the way their relation parted to different lanes, "let's avoid crossing paths for our best interest, and if ever, by mere coincidence we happen to meet, act like you never knew a Taehyung in your life because I won't acknowledge your presence even if I see you dying in the street."

Taehyung drove his car as if it was a time-travel capsule that would take him to another dimension; he kept accelerating and waiting for a flashlight to appear from the sky and escort him to a world where he could start afresh without the anger that had been suffocating his airways, far away from friends and enemies and endless deceptions, a world where he could imprison himself in eternal solitude; saying that he was disappointed when the vehicle only led him to his company would be a massive understatement. 

The bourbon in the cabinet of his office called him multiple times and spammed him with messages; relying on the empty promises the hard liquor cast on relieving the throbbing pain in his head and being a better means to transport him far from reality, Taehyung fastened his pace to reach his office, ready to engulf his stomach in the bitter poison that in contrast with all he's been through, seemed mild, until voices coming from the office located at the very end of his floor captured his attention, and beautified eavesdropping which he wasn't a fan of back at the time.

"I won't repeat myself; we're getting married, and it's final. Don't keep testing my patience, Y/N."

It was an interesting conversation, another drama genre not usually displayed in his theater-like life. It was another trouble; it reminded him of his hell but also made him forget everything and concentrate his attention on the one person who made out of his life hell in the first place.

You.

"Force me then to pronounce a yes in front of the crowd; give me the pleasure of seeing you humiliated in front of those who keep buttering you up, desperately trying to gain your recognition," you scoffed, a sheer simper very much visible on your lips taunted Jungkook, his palm itched with an extreme urge to rip you off it with the tingling sensation he already gave you a taste of once before, "I'm nothing like them, neither your recognition nor status matter to me, you don't matter to me altogether."

Utter satisfaction.

Was what seeped inside Taehyung's heart upon hearing your rejoinder, like a proud father who was holding the report card of his child, satisfied with the good marks they obtained, it wasn't a long-lived moment. Still, it was enough to plant hope in his heart, to reassure him that Jungkook was taken off the list.

He was then reminded that one candidate got eliminated, but another took his place; he figured the list was long and was still unaware of which place he had on it.

"You wouldn't dare," threatened Jungkook, whose eyes set you on fire with the intensity of his gaze. With each step he took toward you, towering over you, Taehyung clenched his fists with more pressure; with each strand of hair Jungkook touched, regret grew at his decision to approach your office and watch what was going on there through the creak of the door. "Don't push me to extremes I don't want to reach, Y/N."

Jungkook softened his glare, smiled even, but instead of settling you, it crept you further, "hmm, is it the bath time in prison now?" He quickly inspected his wristwatch, "you would've been forced to wash that little body of yours with cold water in a shared bathroom without any privacy if it wasn't for me, MY HELP," he took multiple steps away, distancing his body from yours, "I guess we have an understanding now, don't we?"

Taehyung was about to break into the room when the silence between you and your future fiancé thickened; he, however, decided against it when Jungkook pursued his speech, "common Y/N, we used to love each other, and if you want the truth, I've never stopped loving you even for a second." Jungkook's talk, which started in a cunningly teasing way, ended up being embellished with a rather honest one, "the only thing pure and real in this world of mine is the love I have for you, it could be hard to believe, but it's the truth."

As you swallowed with difficulty the lump which formed in your throat while reminiscing the remnants of the boy who was once your sunshine, Taehyung's heartbeat became erratic; fear started seeping into his body from your wavering look in Jungkook's eyes; he pondered either to leave before witnessing something that would leave him with a sour aftertaste or not.

"I never gave up," Jungkook's voice forced the halt of your steps; you were about to leave, which alerted Taehyung, whose feet were glued to the ground, "even seeing you in the white dress for another couldn't kill what I feel toward you, Y/N; I gave up once, and I learned my lesson, in this life, you're to be my wife, nothing will change this reality."

Jungkook stood behind you, close enough that you smelt his cologne, which was doing its utmost to cover the tobacco smell sticking in his clothes due to the heavy smoking session he had, the heat emanating from his body only confirming his promises; he wasn't going to give up, "you're momentarily blinded because of that bastard, but it's just a fling, nothing that could last like our love Y/N, don't get fooled."

Taehyung wasn't ready to get hurt further; he needed to reach his first-aid kit asap to patch his bleeding wounds, so he decided to pause the newly discovered drama opting for a break that could be enjoyed in his loneliness and the silence that surrounded his office.

Yours and Jungkook's voices were still vivid in his head, pressing on his lungs, stealing air out of them, forcing him to fasten his pace, close the door without making noise, strip his vest, and undo the necktie; he really didn't care if the latter met the ground instead of the hook, nor did he care about the vest that was destined to crumble from the way he hanged it, the only thing of value was the moment of peace he sought desperately and a long conversation with his loyal friend, who often came with a mignon. Still, that night came alone, standing ready to escort the man to a momentary oblivion accompanied by a bitter aftertaste and, often, intense headache.

In the charts that night, annoyance skyrocketed while comfort closed its market in loss; the shares Taehyung had purchased went down the drain when a knock on the door echoed through the office, announcing the presence of an intruder whom he loathed without knowing and the reasons were the obvious, the interruption of his trail of monologues and shots of hard liquor.

He allowed his lips to leave the bottle as he looked through his raven lashes, hiding from his own self the shock he felt by acting unfazed, "it's not the right time; I suggest you pass by another time." He stated dismissively before taking the situation as a chance to light a cigarette.

He was again reminded that his card often got declined when trying to buy some alone time far from problems; he couldn't believe that his money wasn't a currency accepted for such purchases when the ticket came out in the form of a woman stating refused transaction by downing upon him utter discomfort. "There's no way you can avoid me forever; we need to talk. Now."

You glimpsed Taehyung entering his office when you were leaving yours, escaping from your future something between husband, contractor- and fiancé; if not to avoid extreme sufferance, you would have screamed his name at the top of your lungs to collect his attention and redeem his time, you opted against it courtesy of the wiseness of yours that appears every lunar eclipse to save you from doom.

"What can I do for you?" His hands clasped as he questioned with fake interest, "make it quick; I've got no time for whatever you want."

"Why couldn't you pick up the phone? Do you really wanna play that card?"

"Do me a favor, get out; I really don't wanna use strength with you, Y/N."

"You heard everything, haven't you? I can explain, although there isn't much to it; he needs me to cover his scandal, and I cannot tie myself to someone I don't love."

"As if you know what love is," he scoffed, lips curled in a mocking grin, "when is this movie ending anyway? I would be tired had I been in your shoes, honestly."

"You're one to talk, Taehyung," you retorted, apparently less amused than he was as you propped your body forward and rested your elbows on the desk, "weren't you the one who dragged me into all this? It wasn't me who approached you, although knowing who you were, I'm here to remind you if you forgot."

Thin ice is what you were walking on, it was dangerous, and you were aware but proceeded nonetheless.

"Don't force me, Taehyung; hurting you isn't my aim; I'm here to talk things out."

"You did actually," his rejoinder was sitting at the corner of his lips, "multiple times, and whenever I try to go past it for the sake of the fucking love I have for you, I get stabbed again," he inhaled deeply from his cigarette and pursued while puffing the smoke with each word slowly, "leave, would you!"

"I'm here to talk; I've made myself clear an—

"LET'S FUCKING TALK THEN," he rose, throwing the chair behind him, which startled you. When his palms rested after a slam over the desk, your traumas came biting and barking at your ankle, "explain everything in detail, starting from the night of the murder to what happened two years ago; why so silent, huh? The cat ate your tongue or what? Listen, I'm giving you a chance here, be honest with me for once; give me reasons to forgive you and myself."

"What do you mean by two years ago?" Your eyes were letting you down, exposing the sort of fear from the outcome of what seemed a conversation that could either build everything up again from scratch or demolish the whole thing over your head, "there's no gain from digging in the past," you walked toward him hesitantly. Still, you grew bolder as you reached him in seconds, placed your palm over his cold knuckles, and pursued your talk while begging his eyes for conviction, "let's leave it behind and start afresh, let us write our future instead of reading the past."

He stayed still, and you took it as a cue to touch him further; firmly believing that it was calming his sudden outburst, you moved your hands to cup his jaw, slowly but carefully suppressing the distance between your bodies. "Can't we just leave this all behind and run to a place where no one knows us, Tae?"

His eyes forgot to blink, enchanted by the magic your words sprinkled over his imagination; he set it free to vision a simple life in which he could readily confess his feelings daily; his body reacted in accordance to a muscle memory that was a fragment of his chimera when his front rested against yours, and his hands cupped your cheeks, eyes closed he inhaled deeply, "you shouldn't have done this, Y/N; you're depriving me of everyone I love, you included." He opened his eyes to intake your image as another souvenir from the land of sorrows but never allowed his hands to move, "did you ever really love me?"

When betrayed, a person often starts feeling self-conscious; just like any illness, betrayal has its own long-term effects on a person and doubting oneself, and those around them is the most common one.

This effect often leads to unconsciously hurting others, as it did to you, for example, causing you to run away from the man you wished to spend the rest of your life with and the next one, if ever you're to be reincarnated, accompanied by loyal tears and throbbing chest pain.

When a movie ends, few pay attention to the credits, and many turn the TV off altogether; however, Jimin found himself staring right into the writer's eyes, obliged not only to read his name on the screen but to hear his voice like some bonus or boring epilogue with the staffs' pictures.

"Wise choice, Park," Yoongi stated as he crossed a leg on top of the other, nearing the cup of coffee to his nostrils, intending to enjoy the smell before the taste, "it's for the best interest of everyone, believe me."

Jimin was energy deprived; his body refused to react to any provocations; had he been in his normal state of mind, he would have surrendered to vexation and thrown hands; it was a surprising fact even to him that he was still being patient regardless of the bottled anger.

"You know what, Yoongi; I can't wrap my head around you; what's your goal from all this?" Jimin's upper body propped forward as his elbows rested over his thighs, palms clasped together, and indexes resting over his plump lips as if he was praying the almighty to keep him away from the knives in the kitchen and, eventually, the police station. "You say you're good, but you strike me as the stinkiest garbage I've ever crossed paths with? Is that perhaps a style you're into?"

Yoongi laughed loudly as he placed his mug on the table, leaned his back to the backrest of the couch, and looked straight into Jimin's eyes, "I like your honesty, Park, but I must tell you something; you're lucky I'm pretty prone to other's opinions."

Jimin's eyes closed in exasperation; the fact that he was dealing with no ordinary man finally downing on him. "Considering that my charm is working in my favor, would you please enlighten me? How's my hurting my friend beneficial to him? And most importantly, why it concerns you in the first place? I can't see the link; I'm sorry, I can be dumb sometimes."

Taehyung wasn't the only one to seek hide when he drove out of the parking hurriedly earlier that night; Yoongi needed an escape too; the only difference was their reasons; while Taehyung's was anger, Yoongi's was the dire need for a phone call to convince Jimin about his plan using how friends need to protect each other.

"What is unclear to you? Isn't it obvious, Jimin?" Yoongi questioned, his voice a bit louder than usual, "do you think they'll have a happily ever after? If so, then let me tell you this, they won't. He will lose everything, including his reputation, which will be the first to be tarnished; how many times do I need to repeat myself for you to understand?"

"This can't be the only reason you forced me to pull a whole act, Yoongi. You made me lie to my friend, and god forbid, our friendship may never recover due to that," Jimin was screaming at this point, the little patience present in him dissipating.

"I've never forced you, Jimin; I barely opened your eyes," Yoongi rose from the couch and walked toward the door, leaving a lost in anger Jimin, who couldn't even look at the man's walking figure and instead kept his gaze fixed where Yoongi was sitting seconds before, "there's no need to dwell further on the matter, you did the right thing, you will thank me one day."

A/N

Folks, RM's album is freaking amazing; I'm afraid I'll break the reply button 😬 🙈

I know I've been late, and I really apologize about it, but I wasn't inspired and honestly had real hard time writing; this is the longest I've ever worked on a chapter, so I really hope you will enjoy it.

So, what's with Yoongles? and Jimiiiiin-ssiiii!!!!!!!!!🙈

Share your beautiful thoughts here 👉🏻

And kindly do not forget to vote if you're enjoying the read 😘💜💜

*credits to the rightful owners of the gifs below*

Lots of love ❤️

One of my loyal and dearest readers papi_get_lost made this banner for me; thank you so much, lots of love 💜💜