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He struggled to stand, his recovering knees throbbing where they’d struck the floor of the supply closet and banged against a few things as he moved around. It was dark, and he was more than a little terrified. Why even throw him in there? Were they going to come back? They wouldn’t just…leave him there, would they?
He felt around blindly until his hand grasped the cold steel of the doorknob. He twisted and pulled and pushed, but nothing. Nothing.
It was the worst of all possible scenarios. They’d taken his phone. They’d taken his phone, and he wouldn’t even be able to yell for someone to let him out. He slammed his fist against the door as hard as he was able, letting out a hiss of pain and frustration. He was too fucking old to be getting locked in supply closets!
“Jimin-ah,” a voice sing-songed from the other side of the heavy door. “Hyung needs a favor.”
Jimin frowned, internally seething but also…afraid. Really afraid. Donghyun wasn’t his hyung, in fact Jimin was pretty sure he was a few months older than the kid who seemed to make it his mission to cause Jimin misery.
“Hyung was oh so careless and forgot to write his musical history research paper for tomorrow. Would you mind giving him a few ideas?” he asked, his voice sickeningly sweet.
Jimin scowled. The guy had more money than he knew what to do with, always winning the affection of classmates by buying them off. He could have easily paid someone to write it for him. Hell, anyone else would have done it for free just to get on his good side. But instead, he’d chosen to torment Jimin for no reason. Jimin had never met someone who held grudges so determinedly.
In answer, Jimin slammed his fist against the door again. He just wanted out. He would let Donghyun think he was giving in, and then he would make a break for it.
“How about we trade? I let you out of there, and you do me this one little favor?” he said mockingly. “Just give us one little tap if you agree.”
Jimin swallowed. If all four of them were waiting out there, he didn’t stand a chance. But he wasn’t going to risk being locked in. Now that he knew Donghyun was behind it, he knew they’d have no qualms about leaving him in there. Maybe forever. He tentatively rapped his knuckles against the wood, face burning in shame and hands trembling.
The lock clicked and the door was pulled open.
Jimin immediately ran to one side, trying to push past the cage of bodies, but he was caught the second he made the attempt, thrown back into the doorframe, the air pushed from his lungs.
“Well, that wasn’t very nice,” Donghyun clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “I thought we made a deal? Or is it that you’re deaf, as well as dumb, Jimin-ah?”
Jimin could only stare, wide-eyed, as the jibes hit home. It felt like he’d just run a marathon, short of breath and muscles tensing so hard that they ached.
“Is it that it’s too much trouble for you to do the paper on such short notice?” Donghyun asked with false sympathy. “Well, that’s alright. You can just give me yours.”
Jimin felt his mouth drop open, and he shook his head. No, that…he’d turned his paper in early. Donghyun couldn’t steal it, or the professor would know for sure that it had been plagiarized. And if Donghyun was accused of plagiarism, Jimin was dead. Even Yoongi wouldn’t be able to help him deal with the fallout. He looked around desperately. Phone, he needed his phone. If he could just explain—
“You really want to spend the night in the closet, don’t you, Jimin?”
Jimin shook his head again frantically, holding his hand up to his face to mimic a phone, and then tapping his fingers to mimic texting.
If anything, Donghyun’s evil grin grew even wider. “You have something to say to me?”
Jimin nodded, watching as Donghyun withdrew his own phone from a pocket. Jimin reached his hand forward, only to flinch as it was slapped away.
“I’ve always been really good at charades,” Donghyun smiled, pointing his phone at Jimin. “How about you act it out?”
Jimin swallowed, staring at the phone. He was…was he being filmed? Jimin shook his head slowly, teeth nearly chattering from the spike of anxiety that pierced his body. He had a feeling that if he even attempted to sign, he would be made fun of even more.
“You saw how dark it was in there, didn’t you? I think the bulb is out, what a shame. Can you imagine being stuck in there for days on end? I think the custodian opens the door exactly once every Wednesday.”
Jimin’s eyes widened impossibly further. It was Friday. What did they want from him?
Jimin heard a buzz, his gaze flicking nervously as Donghyun pulled out Jimin’s phone. “Oh? Looks like ‘Tae’ is mad at you for being late, Jimin-ah. Don’t you want to get this over with and go meet with him?”
Jimin felt the tears of frustration pressing at the corners of his eyes, but he wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.
“How about…” Donghyun mused, “…you bark like a dog! No? Clap like a seal? Still too hard? Tell me, Jimin, is there a single talented bone in that tiny, attention-seeking body of yours?”
Attention…attention-seek…
Jimin’s watery eyes passed aimlessly over a poster he could see behind Donghyun’s shoulder. After registering the words, he felt his heart jump. ‘The Calculus of Quantum Physics’? Was he…were they in the math and science buildings?
“Hey!” Donghyun snapped. “Eyes on me.”
Ah. Jimin was beginning to understand his petty motives.
“You have to show your audience something, Jimin-ah,” he said, tapping the side of his phone as he carelessly threw Jimin’s to the floor. “You can at least beg, can’t you?”
Jimin shivered.
“Won’t you beg hyung to forgive you for not following through on your end of the deal?” he nodded to the side, and Jimin felt hands digging into his shoulders, pressing him to the floor on his still-scabbed knees. He surprised himself by letting out the barest whimper, though he was forever grateful that the others were unable to hear it.
Jimin looked up as Donghyun made his way closer, lowering the phone camera until it was right in front of his face. Jimin flexed his biceps, biting down on his lower lip as he stared at the floor. Closer. Just a little closer. He only had one chance.
“Beg me,” Donghyun said smugly. “I’ll get some noise out of you if it’s the last thing I—“
Jimin lurched up, grabbed the hand holding the phone, and thrust it backwards, slamming the phone into Donghyun’s nose. He didn’t have time to appreciate the resulting crack, scooping up his discarded phone on the floor and vaulting over Donghyun’s bent-double body. One of his friends was fast enough to grab Jimin’s upper arm in a bruising grip, but Jimin lashed out, kicking him between the legs.
His knees were throbbing, and his left nearly gave out on him, but he pushed. He had to push. He was too afraid of what would happen if he didn’t. He sprinted for the stairwell highlighted by exit signs, up and up and up because he knew, even wounded, that he was still faster and in better shape than all of them.
Clambering out onto a random floor, Jimin fled down the hallway, pulling at door after locked door until he was able to burst into an empty biology lab, locking the door behind him. Help me biology lab hurry, he typed, hands shaking as he sent it to everyone on his admittedly short university contact list. He dropped to the floor, back pressed against the door as he waited, chest heaving.
His phone began to buzz with a chorus of concerned messages. “Hyung, where are you?” “Jimin what the fuck, where the hell???” “Jim, hold on, I’m coming, what room?” “Minnie, are you okay?”
Jimin startled as a hand jigged the doorknob. “What on earth? I just unlocked this lab!” he heard someone mumble from the other side. “Hello? Is someone in there? This isn’t funny, my slides are in there!”
Jimin panicked, throwing open the door and pulling the person inside before locking it again.
“What are you doing?” the tall boy questioned, soft lips pursed.
Jimin frantically typed. Pleas there r people after me, pls help me hide in room, pls I ber of u.
He held the phone out so the student could read it, hand shaking. The student, who Jimin now saw was wearing a lab coat, looked up from the phone and into Jimin’s scared eyes, at the way his entire body trembled. “Don’t worry,” he said gently. “If they come here, I’ll help you.”
Jimin sighed in relief. Thank you thank u pls thank u.
Jimin startled when his phone began to buzz repeatedly. Someone was calling him? No one ever called him, who would…? He accepted the call when he saw Namjoon’s name appear, but he wasn’t sure what he would be able to do.
“Jimin?” Namjoon said frantically. “Fuck, Jimin, where are you?”
Jimin breathed helplessly into the phone.
“Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Right, I…I was just so worried that I… Fuck, I know you can’t answer but I don’t want to hang up.”
Jimin felt his heart beginning to finally slow. Namjoon had that effect on him, that safe feeling, even if it wasn’t true. He looked up to find the student’s curious eyes on him. Jimin had an idea, offering the student the phone.
“You want me to take this?” the student said, confused.
Jimin nodded. I can’t talk, he mouthed carefully, listening as Namjoon’s faint voice became filled with more and more anxiety.
The student still looked confused but accepted the phone, pressing it to his ear and grimacing at Namjoon’s tone and litany of worry. “Excuse me?” he said.
Even from a meter away, Jimin heard Namjoon’s voice darken.
“No, I haven’t done anything to him. I was headed to my biology lab and he pulled me inside. He wrote that some people were after him?” He paused, listening to Namjoon’s reply. “Biology lab four, the science building. Alright, I’ll stay on the line,” he nodded. He looked at Jimin. “He wants to know if you’re okay.”
Jimin sighed, dragging himself over to sit down in one of the chairs placed in front of the nearest lab station. Gingerly, he rolled up the left leg of his sweatpants, wincing at the redness that he knew would turn into bruising around the scabs. He looked back up at the student, whose face had morphed into one of concern.
“His knees are pretty bruised, but it looks like they were already hurt,” he said into the phone. He tilted his head, swooping bangs falling into one of his eyes, noting the darkening redness ringing a swath of Jimin’s upper arm. His other arm was similarly stinging from where he’d been seized and forced into the closet, but not as bad as the last painful attempt at catching him. “Did someone grab you?” he asked softly.
Jimin nodded, cheeks flaring red. It was embarrassing, almost agonizing, that he wasn’t able to protect himself.
“He sounds scary,” the student whispered conspiratorially to Jimin, then placed the phone back against his ear. “Namjoon says he’ll be here soon...Who, me? Jin. Kim Seokjin. And you don’t have to thank me, I would have helped anyway.”
They both startled as a fist slammed against the door. “Jimin-ah,” Donghyun growled. “Did you drop something?”
Jimin looked down at his bare wrist, where the bracelet that he always wore was no longer there. Fuck.
“Open! The fucking! Door!” he screamed, emphasizing each pause with a kick, causing the glass of the frosted window to rattle. “We’re going to rip you to pieces!”
Jimin looked at Seokjin, shaking his head in fear.
“Excuse me,” Seokjin said, voice dripping with irritation. “I’m trying to complete some very delicate work in here! Can you go bother someone else?”
The was a moment of silence.
“I know he’s in there, this is the only lit room on the fucking floor,” Donghyun said lowly.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I’d be happy to let you inside if you would like to expose yourself to irradiated mice without the proper protections,” Seokjin continued, not missing a beat. “I doubt anyone would mourn your loss.”
“Go ahead,” Donghyun said. “Let me in, let me in, let me in!”
“So much for that,” Seokjin muttered.
“If you let me in,” Dongyun said slyly, “I promise I’ll just take my dear friend and go. You don’t want to be involved in this. This is none of your business. You can go on with your day like I was never here.”
Jimin looked at Seokjin imploringly, shaking his head, but the other didn’t seem to be moved by Donghyun’s speech, regardless.
“Alternatively,” he continued. “If you continue to refuse, I will make your life hell.”
Jimin was surprised by the amused expression that flickered across Seokjin’s face.
“We’ll wait out here as long as it fucking takes,” Donghyun said.
“Namjoon, how far away are you?” Seokjin questioned.
Jimin and Seokjin looked towards the window as they heard the slam of a stairwell door. “Yah!” Namjoon roared.
“I guess that answers that question,” Seokjin said wryly, hanging up the phone. He handed it back to Jimin. “It’s been buzzing all this while, I think you have texts to respond to.”
Outside, the sickening thwack of fists meeting flesh.
Jimin moved to stand and unlock the door, but Seokjin caught him with a light hand on his shoulder. “Wait,” he said.
Jimin waited, his heart pounding in fear, now for Namjoon. There were four of them, so what if…what if…Maybe Namjoon had just been a big talker this whole time. Maybe…maybe…
“Namjoon?” Seokjin called carefully.
Jimin held his breath.
“I’m here,” Namjoon said tiredly. “It’s safe, you can open the door.”
Jimin fumbled with the lock, yanking the door open. Namjoon’s lip was bleeding profusely, his hair wild and eyes weary. Jimin nearly tackled him, wrapping his arms tightly around Namjoon’s middle and holding on like he was going to disappear.
“Hey,” Namjoon said tiredly, resting a large hand on Jimin’s head and the other on his back. “It’s alright, you’re safe now. I scared them away.”
Jimin shook his head, pulling away and typing at his phone. I wasn’t worried about me.
“Well, if it counts for anything, I’m safe too?” Namjoon said, smiling gently.
“I don’t like violence,” Seokjin said, looking disinterestedly at the blood droplets staining the floor. “But I have to say, I think they had it coming.”
“Hey,” Namjoon said again, cupping Jimin’s face. “Let me see where you’re hurt.”
Jimin shook his head. It’s not that bad.
“I need to know how badly to hurt them the next time I see them,” Namjoon said firmly, steering Jimin back into the lab and pushing him to sit on top of a table. “Shit, your poor knees,” Namjoon lamented. “They can’t catch a break, can they?”
Jimin winced at Namjoon’s prodding fingers, then winced even more when he tried to straighten up his aching back.
“And your arm, too?” Namjoon questioned, seeking confirmation from Seokjin, who nodded at him, still with that same expression of curiosity. He took Jimin’s arm and held it in both of his hands, examining the red ring that was darkening in the middle, a few bright red dots of broken capillaries. “Jimin…did they do anything else to you?” he asked seriously.
Jimin bit down on his bottom lip. Just. Just scared me.
Namjoon seemed to struggle with himself before sliding his hands down Jimin’s arm to capture his hand. “How…how did you hurt your knees?”
They pushed me down, Jimin typed, narrowing his eyes at the strange look on Namjoon’s face. A few times.
“And they didn’t…do anything else?” Namjoon pressed, a little desperately, eyes searching Jimin’s face for something.
“Hey,” Seokjin said, catching Namjoon’s attention, “there was no sign of that. Let it alone for now.”
Namjoon sighed. “Alright,” he said, resting a hand on Jimin’s head again, combing his fingers through the strands. “Okay, you’re okay.”
Faint, collective screams of “Jimin” began to filter into the hallway, maybe from the stairwell or a different floor. Jimin urgently opened his contacts, pressing call and pushing the phone into Namjoon’s hand. “Oh, umm, this is Namjoon. Ho…Hos…Hoseok! Geeze! Let me talk! We’re in Bio lab four! He’s fine! Just a little bruised…Alright, see you soon.” He hung up, staring down at the phone for a moment. “Kim Seokjin,” Namjoon said.
“Yes?” Seokjin said, eyebrow quirking.
“Thank you, again,” Namjoon said quietly.
“You’re welcome,” he smiled. “And call me Jin. Hyung,” he added as an afterthought.
Jimin pulled lightly at Namjoon’s sleeve, getting his attention before reaching up to dab at the blood spilling over Namjoon’s lip with the back of his small hand. The bleeding was slowing quickly, so it didn’t look like he would need stitches. “I’m fine,” Namjoon said, taking Jimin’s hand before he could continue worrying over it. “I’m just…I’m glad you’re okay. I wanted…when I got your message, it felt like…”
You got here, hyung. You saved me…like you always do, Jimin typed. I…I’m sorry. I know you keep saying it’s okay, but I’m so much trouble.
“No!” Namjoon said quickly. “No, I…I want you to rely on me. No one’s ever relied on me, before. I like…I like it,” he admitted. “Fuck,” he sighed. “I wanted to kill them. I only got in a few punches.”
“Cha Donghyun,” Jin supplied helpfully. “I’d recognize that obnoxious noise anywhere.”
Jimin looked up at him sharply, and then back to Namjoon, shaking his head and waving his hands in the air.
Namjoon grinned, the sweetness of his dimples belying the look in his eyes. “Looks like I finally have a name, Jimin.”