The lights were out, but Jimin and 097 didn't sleep. The sniffles in the room were too loud, and the lights above where the pig is are much too bright. Jimin's own eyes are dry, but he knows a lot of tears are being shed tonight.

There are only 21 players left. And that was daunting.

"You should sleep," 097 whispers, staring at him. There were no more stacked beds, all of them now stood alone.

"Can't," Jimin shook his head. An empty bed sat on the right side of the room, Jimin's. He knew he could never sleep alone here again though. It was too dangerous. "Won't."

"Try soon," He presses. "Please."

Jimin doesn't respond. With so many players gone, it's getting more and more real. There's less people to hide behind now, death is running out of people to play with.

Jimin turned his head to look at 097. In the darkness his features are fuzzy, they're hard to see, but the soft few lights overhead highlighted the important parts. Jimin supposes he always thought 097 was good looking. His face, his body, his hair, was all so...well, beautiful.

He thought he felt that way due to jealousy. He thought he wanted to be him. Now, he's not so sure. The more he thinks about it, the more he realizes warm cheeks and racing hearts aren't signs of jealousy.

097 could die tomorrow. Now it was more likely than it was not. And he really doesn't know much about this man, just as the taller knows next to nothing about him. He wants to know everything. He...he wants to share everything.

097 was everything Jimin believed didn't exist up to this point. He was kind, selfless, gentle. When Jimin was shitty or stubborn, he was patient, more patient than anyone should be. He treated Jimin like he mattered...no one's really done that before.

He soon found himself studying 097's face. His eyebrows were dark and thick. They controlled much of his facial expressions, especially while wearing a glare. They contrasted his eyes, that were wide like a baby deer's. The irises were dark brown, almost black. They reminded Jimin of dark chocolate.

His nose was big, but not in a bad way at all. Jimin really liked it. It fit his face, it...well it made him look pretty. He had a thin upper lip but a fuller bottom one. His cupid's bow highlighted them in the middle. Even that little part was beautiful.

Jimin's gaze must've lingered too long on his lips, because 097 half-chuckled, causing Jimin's eyes to dart up. "What are you looking at 136?"

Once again, Jimin is close to speechless. "I..." His eyes go back to his lips. He doesn't get why he's so drawn to 097's lips. There's nothing special about them...

Except they belong to 097.

He leans in, just a little bit. 097 doesn't move away. So he leans in more. And more. Until their lips brushed against one another. Jimin paused, giving the taller one more chance to pull away.

But he didn't.

So Jimin kissed him. Like almost everything he's done with this man, he doesn't know why he did it. He really just wanted to. 097 kisses back softly, gently, exactly how Jimin feels he needs. It's perfect. Jimin didn't understand perfect, but he liked how it was feeling.

They pulled away, just by a couple inches. The shorter inhales sharply to speak. "My name is Park Jimin," His voice is barely audible. "And...and I think I love you."

"Jimin," He murmurs, looking into his eyes. "Jimin. You've only known me for four days."

"I don't care," He closes his eyes, leaning in so their foreheads are touching. "I think I love you 097."

"Jungkook, Jeon Jungkook," He tells him. "You love Jeon Jungkook."

Jungkook. It suited him...manly, yet so beautiful.

"Okay, yeah," Jimin feels his face getting hot. "I love Jungkook."

"I..." 097-Jungkook, takes a deep breath. "I might love Jimin too."

"Yeah?" Jimin can't help but smile. "Really?" This was so much easier than he ever thought it would be.

"Anything can happen in this place, we've already seen that," He nods. "I think I love you. I don't know how, I don't know why it happened, but there's something about you Jimin."

"We click," Jimin says simply.

Jungkook brushed his nose against Jimin's cheek. "We do."

"Um," Jimin takes a deep breath after a few seconds of silence. "I lied."

"What?" Jungkook pulls away, confused. "What do you mean? What is there to have lied about?"

"That I had nothing to tell," He shrugged. "About me, about my life. There's quite a lot to tell. And it's shitty...but I want you to know everything. We get closer and closer to death every day we're here, I want to know everything about you, and you about me."

"Tell me," Jungkook's round eyes were fixed on him. "I want to know your story."

"Okay then," Another deep breath. "Well, I was born on October 13th, 2000, in Busan. My family was fine, I guess. I was an only child, and I didn't really get along with my dad, but whatever. He was cold, emotionless, and we just got into arguments, screamed over petty things. But we lived through it. For fifteen years we worked through it. My mom never took sides, never coddled me, but, but that was good. I learned to be tough.

"I...I always knew I was gay. Since I was little I knew. I didn't always understand it, but it was how I felt. I wasn't popular in school or anything, but I was well-liked, I blended in. No one suspected a thing as far as I knew. But...you know, as I reached high school, I felt worse and worse about hiding. Those are the years you kinda learn who you are, and I was just sick of hiding.

"If I had friends at the time, I would've told them first, but I didn't, so I told my mom. I remember the look on her face," He pauses, visibly cringing at the memory. "So...hard. My mom wasn't extremely loving, very quiet, but she was never cold to me. She just...walked out of the room, saying nothing.

"It happened six years ago, and some parts are extremely cloudy, but others I remember as if I'm in the moment. My dad came home later that night, and questioned me. It escalated so quickly. Soon we were screaming at each other, at one point we were in each other's faces."

Jimin pauses again, struggling with the story. This is his first time putting his memories into words. It's not emotional at all, it's just...strange. "I hit my dad over the head with a wooden stool. I broke a wooden stool over my father's head. As he stared up at me, after he fell to the ground, he told me to get out. I wasn't his son, I needed to go and never come back. I was sixteen.

"So I left. I ran out with nothing except my wallet and the clothes on my back. I had no time to get anything else. I hopped the first train to Seoul I could get. I dropped out of school, I didn't know how to find a job, I left my phone at home. I barely knew how to survive.

"But I did survive, for a while I survived on my own. I really didn't do it well. I took food from dumpsters, I stole a couple times, you know how it is. I kept getting sick, I was always freezing, soon I was convinced I was just on a timer. I was waiting for my body to give up on me...at sixteen I was just waiting for my body to fail on me."

"Oh Baby," Jungkook looks at him with so much pain in his eyes. Usually Jimin would hate this kind of thing more than anything, this pity. But Jungkook isn't pitying him, he can tell. He just wants to hear his story, he cares about him. He's just heartbroken he's suffered. The taller rubs his ear between two fingers.

"It's okay," Jimin assures. "It's just my life. I'm telling you a story. What I've told you isn't even that bad."

For once Jungkook is speechless.

So Jimin continues. "After a year or so, probably a little less, I met this guy, uh, his name isn't important. He was the leader of this group, a loan shark in his 40s. I was sick, skinny, and hungry when we met. At the time he had two or three other guys, that hunted people down, got the guy his money. He gave them their share of pay in return, enough for food, and rent, for their families, because they had families...anyways, as long as they did what they said, he made sure they were provided for.

"When we met, under a bridge, I was really not doing well. We made eye-contact for a second...and I threw up on his shoes. He didn't yell at me, he was kind to me. He took a liking to me right away. I didn't understand why at first.

"He, the loan shark, ignored the shit on his shoes. He asked me if I'd like to work for him, for food and shelter. I remember his smile...his teeth were stained, cigarettes. He didn't offer me money, but I didn't even think about it. I didn't think about how the lack of money would make me dependent on him, I just wanted to fight a little longer. I didn't want to die just yet.

"I took him up on his offer. He brought me to his shitty apartment, and I mean really shitty. It was messy, the only place to sleep was a beat-up mattress in the main room. But it was warm. Compared to where I was before it felt safe. Things were looking up for me.

"He let me take a shower to warm up, gave me a change of clothes, medicine, all that. I assumed he took me in because I looked tough. I felt tough, for surviving on my own. I thought he saw that," His voice is quiet, quieter than before. "I really though he saw that..."

Jungkook's face grew increasingly worried. He's sure the tattooed boy knows where the story is going, just a little bit.

"He started out really kind to me. He gave me whatever food I asked for, gave me more than enough clothing that fit me, he nursed me to health. I really liked him, started seeing him as a father figure I just never had as a kid. I think I held him to a much higher regard than I ever should have. He told me I could trust him...and I did. I told him my story. I thought he cared.

"After about a month, I started working for him. Since he was obviously a loan shark, I obviously got wrapped up into some terrible work. The people I encountered were always sad, desperate, hopeless. You know how it goes. Anyone he lent out money to gave ten or so family contacts. Refusal or inability to pay back led to you and your family getting hunted. Desperate people came to loan sharks, and the loan sharks screwed them over. Deep down I could tell he was no different than the rest, but the guy was so nice to me. He couldn't be a bad person.

"I...I ruined people's lives Jungkook. I only did what he told me to do, and I never took the lead in anything, but I ruined countless lives regardless. I made people cry, and beg for forgiveness as I took their valuables, some of which were family heirlooms. I worked with the other guys to actually physically attack some people...I watched those men beat a few guys to death. That was something I could never get behind. No one should decide how short a person's life gets to be. It's why I'm still so shaken up about what happened a few nights ago. I didn't want to do it. I hated it."

"I know," Jungkook reached up to pet the shorter's hair. "I know. I'm so sorry Jimin. I'm so sorry it had to happen."

Jimin liked it when the tattooed boy said his name.

"I don't use physical violence unless I truly feel threatened," Jimin continues. "I only do it to survive. I told him I wasn't comfortable with it at first, back when I was still a kid remember, and yet he still told me to proceed. He reminded me what he was providing me with; a home, food, the clothing on my back. It made sense at the time. I felt I couldn't fight back.

"When we went home, he'd assure me, or I guess comfort me...because it did comfort me at the time. He'd pet my hair," At the mention of that Jungkook stopped. "Put his arm around my shoulder, told me it was okay. I was helping him tons, these people were bad, they didn't fulfill their promises, it was what was coming for them anyways. And it always calmed me, it had to. I had no other option. I had to agree with what he said so I could continue to live.

"I didn't always like it when he touched me. He'd tickle me. Sometimes he'd hold me. It was weird, he was forty-something, but I really didn't know what affection felt like, and what was appropriate. Back then I still wanted it. I was stupid, affection is stupid, and no one needs it. I learned that the hard way..."

Jungkook hugged himself. "I'm so sorry. I should've been more considerate. I-I didn't know-"

"No," Jimin grabbed each of his hands quickly, realizing his mistake. "You're not him. Nothing you do makes me uncomfortable. In fact, everything you do makes me feel safe." The words coming out were barely audible, feelings were hard. But he needed Jungkook to know. "I appreciate what you do for me. Everything you do is with the best intentions, and that's all I can ask for I guess."

"You're sure?" His eyes were bright and wide.

Jimin nods. "You understand me, and how I feel. We click. I didn't know someone like that existed, but you do. So touch me, hold me, all that stuff. I'll tell you if I'm uncomfortable."

"Okay good," Jungkook holds him close again. He seems happy...Jimin really likes making him happy. "That's healthy."

"I'm learning," Jimin scoots closer to him. "You're helping me learn."

"I knew that tough act was a shell," He whispers into his cheek.

"I didn't," Jimin huffs out a laugh.

"Well, it is," Jungkook pulls back to stare at him. "And now I'm starting to know why."

"And you'll keep learning, I need to keep telling you," Jimin closed his eyes for a few moments. "I...about three months after he took me in, he brought some beer home, I think two six-packs? He knew I wasn't at the legal age, that I was a minor, but he offered me some anyways. I won't lie, I was excited. I felt like an adult. I thought he saw me as an adult. He definitely didn't.

"We were alone, just the two of us. We sat, we talked. After a few beers each, well...he kissed me. I didn't like it, but I was so drunk. I obviously couldn't handle my alcohol well, I was a child, it was my first time drinking. I didn't know what to do, I was scared. I kissed him back because I was afraid to do anything else.

"He was gross, he tasted like smoke. He took off my shirt...and I let him. After all, I owed him, didn't I? Look at all the things he did for me, the food, the clothes, the shelter. This was just paying him back, that's all. That was my mindset at the time.

"Soon I was naked, and he was on top of me. I just did what he said, I tried to enjoy it. I tried to convince myself I wanted it, but shit, obviously I didn't. Back then I would've told you I consented. Back then I would've told you it was okay, I liked it, there was nothing wrong with it."

"He groomed you," Jungkook concluded, voice helpless. "You were groomed by him."

"He did, I know that now," Jimin frowned. He was still pretty emotionless, but this was by far the worst part of his story. He hated this part. He knows he shouldn't feel ashamed, because it's not his fault, but he does. He doesn't know how else to feel. "But I felt like an adult back then, I thought it didn't matter. I was a kid, but no one feels they're a kid at that age. I especially didn't with all the shit I had to go through. So he took advantage of me, and continued to for a long time.

"And that was basically my life from seventeen to twenty-one. I'd go out and do his bidding, I'd come home and he'd use me. I felt so trapped. Sure, I was alive, but at what cost? It was through these years I lost everything. My trust in people, my belief everything would be okay in the end, my faith there were even good people in this world. I didn't know how to get out, he had manipulated me into thinking I needed him, that he was the only person who could save me. He told me no one else would want to help me, want to care for me. No one else would love me. And once again, I believed him. I depended on him.

"He told me I meant a lot to him, but I don't think he truly ever meant it. I think he just loved what I could do for him. It took me too long to figure it out. Years...it took me years. Once I finally realized I wasn't getting anywhere with this life, I knew I had to get out of there.

"He kept all this cards in the safe. If I could get him to trust me...or if I could distract him enough, I knew I could get the code, get out of there, far away from him. I'd never have to feel his gross hands on me again. I could get the money I needed to finally get on my feet. Maybe I could finally live a normal life."

Jimin huffs out a bitter laugh. Isn't that ironic, being in these games?

"So, after I thought of a plan, I put it into action immediately. When he came home that day, I greeted him warmly. It wasn't much, but it was a start. He wasn't the smartest man in the world, but anyone would be able to see a severe switch in behavior. So it started with words, then behavior...and soon I'd be by his side whenever he was home. I think I convinced him I was in love with him.

"I don't remember how long it took. I think I had turned twenty-two before I got out? I must've, I was in that shitty situation for so long. But...I kept going. I despised it, but I needed to get out. I followed him around the home, trying to get him to let me into the backroom when he opened the safe. I tried multiple times, but he pushed me off him every single time, fucking kissing me and telling me to stay. Like a dog!" His heart was hurting. Why was this getting so hard? It was just words...just, words. Right?

He had to pause for a minute. Jungkook didn't ask if he was okay, because he obviously wasn't. He just held him closer, peppering kisses on his ear and in his hair. It felt so right. Jungkook is just so gentle. Jimin is grateful he gets to experience this gentility before he dies. He loves it so much, and he wants to feel better so he can return it all. He wants the taller to be gently loved too.

"I'm sorry this story is so long," Jimin stares at him, pecking his lips. "I didn't think there was this much...but here we are. And you just have to sit in silence while I ramble."

"No, you have nothing to apologize for," Jungkook shakes his head. "It's hard, I know, but I want to hear everything. And I'll tell you about my life after, so we'll be even. I'm not tired, I can't sleep, so talk when you're ready, I wanna hear it all."

"Okay, thank you," Jimin huffs out the faintest laugh. "Sorry you've had to put up with me. The first couple days I was acting like a stubborn child, 'fuck you, fuck this, everything you say is bullshit.' I was an asshole."

"And yet I still liked you," He chuckled. "Maybe I should apologize for clinging onto you like a burr."

"No, no," Jimin shakes his head. "Never."

"Well then there is absolutely nothing you have to apologize for either," Jungkook rests his head on Jimin's shoulder. "So hush."

"Hush?" Jimin smiles softly. "Okay old lady."

"Hush," He tickles the shorter's side.

Jimin can't help but giggle. It's a weird feeling. "Okay, okay." He inhales. "I'm ready to continue. So, my attempts weren't working. I'd try to go in, saying bullshit like I always wanted to be near him or whatever, and he'd respond in a gross 'loving' voice that I could wait. Shit, I really was his pet. I knew I needed to figure out something more so...so I told him I loved him.

"It was after he had used me that night, I was cuddled up to him. I told him I loved him, obviously lying, and all he did was ruffle my hair and say thank you. The bastard didn't even have the audacity to say it back, after all he put me through for his own selfish desires! The knife was already deep in my chest, twisted as far as it could go. I legitimately didn't think he could hurt me more, he could kill me and I would feel it was one of the kindest things he's ever done for me. He should've just let me to die in the first place. The wound was already there, but he ripped the knife out and made a new one.

"Love wasn't real, it couldn't be, that's what I thought back then. If that man didn't love me after I did his dirty work, after he took me to bed every night, after he revoked any right I had in which I felt I could ever say no, what else was there? Love was a myth, I sure as hell had never seen it. It was only used as a manipulation tactic...

"And it worked. Everything picked up after that. Within the next month, I got closer and closer to that safe. First I got through the door, then I sat in a chair in the middle of the room, then, then I was back hugging him. I remember that day so clearly. I guess it was less than a year ago, that's not a lot of time.

"He told me to promise to close my eyes. I promised, telling him I'd never deceive someone I loved. Well, I didn't love anyone so...yeah. He trusted me completely. That stupid rat, blinded by lust and the attention he was receiving, trusted me completely. So I watched him punch in four numbers. It was his own fucking birthday. I should've fucking known.

"I didn't have time to beat myself up about that though. I knew I had to get out of there the second I was able. I was so fucking lucky at the time, because that week, on Friday, he would be out late. There was this party, with a ton of well-known people in our area. He bought his way in-taking out a loan. The loan shark taking out a loan," He laughs. "I knew I was going to make it difficult for him to pay it back. I hoped to make his life worse than hell, just like he did to me.

"That Friday morning, I played it up more than any other time I ever had for him. I told him I loved him, that I'd miss him. I asked him if I could come, because I knew the answer. Even if he wanted me to come, which I knew he didn't, because I was his dirty little secret, I couldn't. He couldn't afford it. He told me he'd try not to stay out too late, come home and...do a lot of things I don't feel like repeating. I knew he'd forget about his promise though, stay out until morning if I was truly lucky, so it didn't bother me.

"He left that afternoon, and I swear my heart was racing for hours as I got my shit together. I took one of his bags, a large backpack, and ran to the back room. I punched in the code, the cards were all there, as well as some cash. I took the cash, the cards, and bolted. I ran out of the apartment building, to the bank I knew he went to. I knew the pins for a lot of the cards, I had used many of them before for various shit he made me do. So I extracted as much money as possible.

"That was the last place I would be tracked, the last place he could have concrete evidence of my location. He wouldn't be able to contact the police to track me down, they could, probably quite easily, figure out all the shit he did, it was too risky. He couldn't afford a private investigator, especially now since I washed him out. It seemed so good at this moment...I was free. I could truly start my life. After all, I was young, I could do it.

"But...as I rode away, on the train to Daegu, I had a lot of time to think. I realized I could never truly settle, not while he was still alive. He'd always be after me, probably trying to lock me up, or kill me, or something shitty. I wasn't safe. And because I wasn't safe, because I couldn't ever settle, I realized I'd never get to start my life over. I'd never even get a chance.

"So I've been running. Around the country. I'll be safe for a little while, then they'll find me, I'll lose them, and the cycle continues. I'm always running, always watching...because I know if I react a second too late, it's over. I was running when I got recruited for these games. And I hate to say this, but I know it's 100% true, when I say these fucking games are the best thing to have ever happened to me. I'm warm, I get fresh food...I met you. Sure, every day is a new sick gamble with death, but it's worth it. At least I'll die at my high point in life. And if we survive? Well, we'll leave the country, go somewhere our past can never find us."

Jungkook was close to speechless. "I...wow. I'm so sorry. I just, don't know what to say. Jesus..."

"Nothing, say nothing," Jimin touched his hand. "I don't need words, words don't change anything. I'm just kinda happy you're here. Well-not here, but with me. I guess all it takes to believe there's good in the world is to find someone who makes the worst not really seem that bad."

"I hate it all," He frowns. "I hate that happened to you."

Jimin shrugs. "It's not unique. We didn't all come here to compete because our lives were perfect and boring. We're all here with shitty pasts. I'm not special."

"You are to me," He kisses Jimin's cheek.

"Cut that shit out," The demand was only half-hearted. "No being cheesy, remember?"

Jungkook sighs. "Yeah, I know...but I still try."

"And I'll still stop you. Every single time," Jimin counters in a bit of a teasing matter. "Why don't you tell me your story? I bet you're a good storyteller."

"I don't want to make you even more sad..."

"I'm not sad, I grieved my past, I've moved on, I'm angry more than sad," He tells him. "But above all, I'm curious about you. I care about you, I care about the things you have to say, and I very much care about what it took to turn you into who you are today."

"I like when you talk like that," 097 stares. "The words you use and the sentences you build are pretty."

"I'm hanging out with you too much," His face flushes softly. "As if just being near you makes me talk different. Like the books I read from boredom in that apartment. He hoarded books for some reason."

"Everything I learn about you makes me more interested in you as a person, the good and the bad," He takes a deep breath. "I guess you feel the same about me?"

Jimin nods.

"Okay...I doubt it'll be as long as yours," He gets himself ready. "Which is probably a good thing. I just...our stories are similar, and yet so different. I relate to your story quite a bit but also not at all. Like it's a foreign language that I can understand but can't speak? Does that make sense?"

It didn't. But Jimin didn't care to correct him. "I bet everyone who stepped foot in here on the first day has overlap in their stories. First with the debt obviously, and probably other shitty stuff too. Just tell me Jungkook, it's okay. Only today is promised, and today is almost over."

"Alright, fine," He smiles sadly. "I'm sorry if it gets emotional."

"Don't say sorry for something you haven't done," Jimin pats his leg. "It'll be okay Jungkook, just go. Please...we're running out of time."

"Okay, I'm starting now," One more deep breath. "I was born on September 1st, 2002, which means I'm younger than you." That absolutely came as a shock to Jimin. He was positive they were the same age, if not Jungkook older. He was too mature for twenty-one, more mature than Jimin by a long shot... "Just like you, I was born in Busan. It was my mom, my dad, my older brother, and me. We were the perfect family, the one every other family envied. My parent were both successful in their jobs, they had two handsome sons that did well in school as well as extra-curriculars. On paper, to everyone else, we were simply the perfect family. Obviously that wasn't the case."

Jimin was right, that tattooed boy was an amazing storyteller. Even though he himself has never encountered a perfect family, he was able to envision it like it was there. The way he strung words together, the way his voice went up and down. The inside of Jimin's ears buzzed with pleasure. Sure, it wouldn't last long, but it was there for the time being.

"My dad, like yours, was not very kind. He was a very bad man. He didn't know how to deal with stress the right way, so he took it out on my mom and us. He'd punish us for the smallest things. For laughing too loud, for tripping and falling, the volume on the TV being too loud the second we turn it on...even though he was the one that probably turned it that loud in the first place. I think he just had a lot of mental health problems; anxiety, depression, all the works. He should've gotten help...but he was a man. Men don't admit defeat, men don't ask for help, men don't show emotion.

"My dad would hit me, in places he knew people wouldn't see. He'd hit my brother, who was six years older than me, and he'd hit my mom. My mother was so strong. She would just take it, and when it happened to me she would fight for me, and for my brother. She'd hide me away so I could cry...I learned not to cry in front of him. She'd shoosh me and comfort me until I felt good enough to get up and on with my life. That was until I was about eight. I figured out how to stop crying at that age, at least revolving physical pain.

"I barely felt I could breathe in that house. Maybe I'd be breathing too deep or shallow, maybe he'd hurt me for it. My brother always stood up for me. My mom was my queen, my brother, my knight in shining armor. While my mom comforted me, and protected me to the best of her ability, my brother...he was something else. Insane, is what he was I guess. When my dad got mad at me, often times my brother would do something to piss him off even more. He'd distract him, so I wouldn't get hurt.

"He'd get hit too, a lot, but he was a much better talker than my mom and I were. Occasionally, not often, but sometimes nonetheless, he'd be able to talk my father down. He would somehow calm him down enough to get away with no harm done. I admired him so much. As a kid he was my role model, I wanted to be just like him, because he was just so cool.

"My mom, I'm sure, really wanted to get a divorce, I can't imagine her not. But I knew she also refused to. She was raised strictly Catholic, we were too. There was a small population of like-minded people in the neighborhood I grew up in. They were all very judgmental people, watched everyone like a hawk. I know my mom wanted to take my brother and I and leave, but she'd be shamed by everyone she knew...they didn't know what it was like for us. She would get blamed for everything, for breaking up a family, for taking her kids away from their loving father. Her mental health, as I saw the older I got, was deteriorating fast. She just wouldn't have been able to handle it. And I didn't blame her. I could never blame her."

Jimin would be able to. If it were Jimin's mother...well, he'd blame her more than he'd like to admit.

"By the time I was twelve...something wasn't right. I didn't know what it was back then, especially since she always put on a mask for me. I could tell her happiness wasn't genuine, but I didn't completely understand why. She stopped fighting completely. Before she would at least try to fight back, defend herself as long as it didn't affect my brother and I...but she just took it. She got hurt with no words. She was empty. I watched my mom go hollow.

"It was April...a warm April. I was really excited that year, because it was raining less, I could play outside more. I had gotten a new skateboard that past Christmas. I just really loved practicing tricks..."

Jimin heard a sniff. Jungkook had started crying. Without thinking, he wipes his tears, it comes naturally for him. But the tears keep falling, faster than Jimin can wipe them away.

"That night, my mom came in to say good night to me, tucked me in. I-I told her I was way too old for that, scoffed at her. I remember her just smiling at me, telling me I'll always be her little boy. She kissed my forehead and left.

"Maybe half an hour later, I heard my parents fighting. I hadn't gone to bed yet...I was hiding under my blanket playing with my 3DS I got from a neighbor who didn't want it anymore because it glitched too much. I don't even know why it caught my attention, maybe because I realized I hadn't heard my mom yell in months? Either way, it caught my attention.

"I was halfway down the stairs when I heard the gunshot."

Chills went down Jimin's spine. Honestly speaking, red light green light was the first time he had ever heard a gunshot. That day was the first time he had ever seen a gun. It hit too close.

Realizing his selfish thoughts, he holds Jungkook closer. He needs it more than Jimin ever will. He wishes he could change, stop being selfish as fast as a light switch made a room bright...but he has to learn. And learning is really hard.

"When I got down the stairs my father was on the floor. My mom...she had to of gotten the gun illegally. My father was too controlling, he would've known, and he would've never let it leave the police station if they ever did get a gun. She probably hid away cash, little by little, so my father didn't notice. That's how it was in my house. If you wanted something, you would have to figure out a way to get it done without raising suspicion. It must've taken a long time...my mother was planning this for a long time."

And then he gets quiet, crying. Jimin doesn't like watching him cry. It's just so unnatural, seeing such a tough-looking man break down in this way. Jungkook really looks nothing like who he is on the inside. He never though such a person, a softie in a strong, tattooed shell could exist like this. He was special, he belonged to Jimin.

"You're mine," He shooshes. "I've got you, I promise. Memories hurt, but it'll get better. Just..." He was so bad at this, why didn't he know what to say!? "Just cry Baby. I've got you. We have all night for this."

That seemed to make him feel a bit better. So he continued to cry, as Jimin awkwardly tried to comfort him. Sure, many of their interactions felt natural to the older. But there were still times where things still seem so inorganic.

Soon his tears slowed, eyes red but face dry. "My brother, he had caught up with me at that point. He must've been as shocked as I was, but he reacted so quickly. He tried to drag me back up the stairs, but I resisted. Mom had made eye-contact with me at this point, I couldn't just leave. There were tears in her eyes.

"She lifted the gun to her head and I screamed. I begged her to stop, but she was empty, just like she had been for much too long. She smiled a hollow, terrifying smile, it was so...so calm. I knew she was content with this, she wanted this. She needed this.

"She mouthed to me, 'I'm sorry Baby,' and that was it. Within minutes, both my parents were dead. My brother was finally able to grab me and pull me up, dragging me to my room. I think I was being really loud, my brother told me to be quiet.

"He grabbed my school backpack, dumped everything out, and stuffed as many clothes as he could in it. He made me put on a coat. I was so distraught, I didn't understand, but I did it anyways. He ran for his room, came back with me, and told me to climb out my window. There was a tree by my window, he told me to put on the backpack and climb.

"I did. He followed. Then we ran away. I still had no idea what we were doing, I still barely comprehended what happened. We heard sirens, and we ran faster, faster until we found a place to hide in, in one of those tube slides.

"It was there he told me what we were doing. He told me we had to hide. He knew he wouldn't be able to take custody of me, even though he was eighteen. He didn't have a stable job, no place to live, nothing. We didn't think about inheritance, we didn't think that maybe the people working in foster care or anything like that would be able to help us stick together. On the contrary, my brother was convinced they'd take us apart, and I followed him blindly. He was the smartest man I knew, my cool older brother, an adult! What did I know, I was twelve! Now I can have all these conclusions and thoughts, but back then, as mature as I thought I was, I was just a kid. I didn't know how the world worked.

"Running and hiding seems to be a theme of the night, because it's what the two of us did, but not for too long. We settled in Gwangju, my brother got a job, we found a space in this guy's basement to live. It really started looking up for us.

"The next two years weren't too bad. My brother worked at McDonald's, he'd always bring food home. I had to stay hidden, so the bad guys, the foster care system, wouldn't take me away. My brother bought me cheap puzzles, and notebooks to write stories. He bought me books from the 1,000 won bin he thought a young teenager might enjoy. It was boring sometimes, but it kept me and my brother together, and that was what was most important to me.

"Over the years, I could tell my brother was getting more and more stressed, more anxious. He'd start getting home later, after smoking pot. He didn't do it in front of me, because I'm sure he wanted to hide it, but I knew. I smelled it on his breath and clothes when he came home.

"It was so gradual...for so long it was just weed, to relieve stress. Then, his joints in his knees started hurting from standing so long, taking as many shifts as he possibly could...to make things better for us. He got an opioid prescription for it, and he became hooked on them so fast. At this point we barely saw each other. My brother tried his best to conceal it from me, but I obviously knew what was happening, I knew! He wasn't himself, and he hadn't been for a long time."

Jungkook pulls at his pinky, fidgeting. He's shaking slightly. "I was watching another person I loved kill himself."

Jimin had never seen someone love like this. To Jimin, well, what Jungkook was describing, about his family he knew for so many years, he felt that. He felt he deeply loved him within a matter of days. It hit Jimin with strength he didn't know how to fathom, it was overwhelming. Love truly was real, and Jungkook had a lot of it...too much of it. The love blazed so fiercely...and he got burned.

"By the time he had switched to heroin, he had stopped hiding. He did it in front of me, he really didn't care anymore. Heroin was the most important thing in his life," He inhaled a shuddery breath. "Even more than me."

"Soon, probably half a year after I turned fifteen, he lost his job, not that he had been going anyways. We got evicted a couple weeks later...and then we were on the streets. Just like that, everything was gone.

"On the streets my brother used me to help him out, to get money. I looked like a kid for quite a while, until probably seventeen. My childish features gave me sympathy from people. They felt bad for me, gave me a bit of money. My brother took it all, used it on drugs. It was what I had expected at that point, and it hurt. He just wasn't himself, and I was grieving for a brother that wasn't dead.

"Of course, it wasn't enough, to get the drugs he wanted, he needed. As bad as people felt for me, they just gave a bit of pocket cash, enough for ramen for him and I if we were lucky. So he turned to loan sharks, taking out loans for money he knew he'd never be able to pay back. But he did it anyways. He was controlled by his addiction.

"It was June, when it happened, June 13th, 136," Jungkook paused to look at him. "We were in an alleyway, and him and I were so tired. He was because, well, he was taking a depressant. It slowed down his mind and body. He was always sluggish. I was tired because I was watching over him. I was worried something would happen to him, he would go somewhere and hurt himself. So I didn't sleep until he did. That was when I knew he was safe.

"The night of June 12th, he fell asleep. It didn't take long, it never did. I still waited a bit, to make sure. When I was satisfied, I fell asleep, cuddled up to him. My head was on his shoulder, as we were slumped up against the wall. I went to sleep feeling okay. I would get control of this situation. Somehow...I would.

"When I woke up, he was dead. Or, at least, that's what I concluded. He wouldn't wake up when I shook him. I yelled, but not too loud," He started crying again. "Tears blinded my vision, but I kept trying, until I felt I couldn't do anything else.

"I should've gone to find help, I should've called the police. He overdosed, but that didn't mean he was dead. He could've gotten treated. I was just terrified. Terrified that we would get separated. He would go to jail, for kidnapping, and for drug use. And I would get sent off to foster care, which I was still convinced would never let me see my brother again.

"Now I obviously know, as an adult, I would've gotten to do what I pleased once I reached legal age. And, even if my brother went to jail, I'd still get to see him occasionally, and then when I was an adult, and he got released, we'd be together. But I just let him die. I watched all of my family die. I could've prevented one of their deaths...and I didn't. June 13th is so important to me, because it's the last day I had with my brother. When I saw you, it reminded me of him. Who knew my brother's death would lead me to the first person I've cared about since him?"

Jimin just kisses his cheekbone. The tears on his face fall on his tongue, a salty taste. So he has death weighing on his conscience...Jungkook seemed so happy. He seemed like sunshine and rainbows to Jimin. Sure, he assumed he had some shitty sob story, like the rest of the people brought here. He didn't think it could possibly be this bad.

Jungkook was really strong, the smaller realized. If he were in his shoes, well...he definitely would've cracked under all this. And the fact Jungkook still loved his mother and brother, after all they had done to him? That was strength Jimin couldn't fathom. He had been jealous of his body, his physical strength. But now he wanted his mind as well.

"I ran away from my brother's body, just like we had run away from our parents' years ago. I needed to get away to somewhere busy, where I could forget in a way that wouldn't destroy my life. Seoul was the best option, it was such a busy place, it was truly my best bet.

"I went, and immediately got a job at a convenience store. The guy knew I was too young to be working the counter, but he didn't mind, so I didn't either. I worked at night, when no one would really ask questions, so I had a lot of time during the day when I wasn't sleeping. I found a run-down studio for cheap, which again, the guy turned his head at my age, which had a bathroom attached to a single large space, where I was provided with a microwave and a mini fridge. There, I would work out.

"I was always an active kid I guess. I loved the feeling after running; heavy breathing, the space in my mouth under my tongue starting to hurt, seeping into my gums where they met my teeth. Working out at fifteen was no different. The burn as I exercised, the soreness of my muscles as they slowly built mass, this was good pain, it was pain I loved. I could forget about my family for a short time, while feeling good about myself.

"That August, I got my first tattoo: a purple heart on my hand," Jungkook points it out. Though it's faint, and hard to see due to the darkness, Jimin can just barely make it out. "Purple was my mom's favorite color, and it was all I could think of at the time. Obviously I didn't have the money, and while I was bulking up slightly, until nineteen I really looked like a kid. So I did a favor for the guy, I can't even remember what, as payment. As long as I did it, he wouldn't question my age, and tattoo me for free.

"He called me stupid, for getting my first tattoo on my hand. Said it was a tough spot for tattoo virgins, I'd be in a lot of pain. But I didn't care, and I wouldn't budge. So he gave it to me. And it hurt, but I loved it.

"I soon became obsessed with tattoos as well. It was more good pain. I don't know why it helped me, but I knew I needed to cope using pain, by acting out, by bending rules. That's exactly what tattoos gave me. My brother and I both got addicted to needles, I was just fortunate enough that my needles wouldn't kill me.

"I soon got a tattoo every chance I could. All of them mean something. My birth flower, the tiger lily, lyrics from my brother's favorite band, my mother's eye, taken from a picture my brother hastily stuffed into my backpack the night she died, a 0613 for the day he died...these words and images on my skin represent me and the ones I loved, still love, actually. Isn't it strange, when people use love in past tense, when someone passed away, as if their loved for them ceased when they died?

"Anyways, I had a home, I had a job, I did favors for tattoos. I only had to give one guy a hand job, it was an artist I desperately wanted on my skin. But soon enough my brother's loan sharks found me. They demanded money any chance they got, and I paid when I could. When I couldn't, sometimes they'd hit me, but it's fine. Nothing I can't handle. That's the reason I'm in debt...because of my brother. No, no, scratch that, that wasn't him. I'm in debt because of the monster he became. I came here to be free of that monster, and I will be, one way or another."

Jimin could only stare, empathetic sadness weighing on his chest as if someone had sat on him. "Of course it's not you're fault you're in debt," Jimin laughs incredulously, tipping his head up in disbelief. "Of course you're perfect. I should've known."

"I'm not perfect," He denied quickly. "You know I'm not."

"I guess I do," Jimin looks down. "But compared to the other people in here, the other people, who, like me, have done awful things? You come pretty damn close. A broken angel."

"Oh? Is that what I am?" There's the slightest bit of humor in his voice. Jimin's encouraged by the fact that he's amused. Jungkook has obviously been dragged along on other people's journeys to hell and back. He didn't want him to relive his past anymore than simply letting Jimin know about it.

"Absolutely," he nods, finding comfort and safety in those wide doe eyes. How does one radiate safety in one of the most dangerous, torturous places that could've ever been thought of? "My angel. I want to help fix you, put you back together. Sure, you may have to do the bulk of the work, but I'll be the superglue. There'll be cracks, sure, chipped off pieces that'll never be seen again, but maybe I...maybe we can help each other. So we aren't so broken."

"Dear 136, Jimin," Jungkook seemed to love pet names. "I think we've already started."

"I...I think so too," Jimin agrees. "I really hope we continue to help each other, in these few days. I really like how it's going so far."

"I do too, I really hope I can help you out 136," His smile is content. Jimin is sure the tragedy of his past was still eating him alive, but on the outside, he almost looked peaceful. "I want you happy."

Many moments pass, the two have nothing to say. What is there to talk about after pouring your life and soul out for somebody?

"Jungkook?" The older finally says. "It's been a while since the lights turned off. You should go to sleep. Please get some rest."

"I still can't sleep," He shakes his head. "You try."

"I can't sleep either," He purses his lips silently.

"Then I'll hold you while you sleep," Jungkook proposes. "Maybe it'll help."

"Don't we need someone to keep watch?" Jimin questions.

"No...384 is dead," Jungkook reminds. "Without the ringleader, I doubt the circus will perform. They're nothing without him."

"You're sure?"

"Positive."

"...Well then I'll hold you too," Jimin promises. "I want us to do well tomorrow."

"Me too," He says as if it isn't common knowledge, common sense. "Let's try to sleep then."

"Okay," And the two lie down, in each other's arms.

After a minute, Jimin whispers, "Jungkook?" Making sure he hadn't heard it wrong. "I love you."

Sure enough, a kiss lands on his forehead. "Jimin, I love you too."