"Right, I'll be going now." Yoongi shouldered on his jacket over his striped shirt and jeans. One of the pockets was unnaturally full, but I didn't think much of it. Probably a pen and a small notebook. He did like to write, after all.

"Okay, see you for dinner?" I asked. I detected a small flash of uncertainty in his eyes, but it disappeared as quickly as it appeared. Did I imagine it?

Yoongi smiled grimly. "Definitely."

Three hours passed, and Yoongi still hadn't come home. A small seed of dread planted itself into my stomach, and I started feeling uneasy. Where was Yoongi?

I decided to call him, but after a few rings, I was greeted by his voicemail.

"Hey, Seokjin, I know I'm not home. I know. But you don't have to worry about me anymore. Honestly. I know this sounds selfish, but I hate living with myself. I can't. I let Jungkook die, and I can't go on knowing that. Sorry. But... I love you. I love all of Bangtan. Seokjin, Hoseok, Namjoon, Taehyung, I love you guys a lot. You were the best friends I ever had, and I wanted you to know that. I'm so grateful to have known all of you. I hope you all live longer than I do, and know that I will be welcoming you to the other side when you die, with Jimin and Jungkook. Don't worry, I'll take care of them... So I guess this is goodbye."

When the voicemail message ended, I was trembling. Tears had formed in my eyes, and I couldn't process what had just happened.

Had I just listened to Yoongi's suicide note?

"Guys!" I screamed, covering my mouth with my hand as I started to cry. Immediately, the three burst into the kitchen from their various locations in the dorm, all wearing alarmed expressions.

"Seokjin...?" Taehyung sounded very much afraid. I couldn't blame him. Two deaths, and then the oldest member screaming and crying in the kitchen. Did he suspect what was happening?

"L-Listen." I called Yoongi again and put the phone on speaker. As the voicemail recording played, I saw the emotions running through their faces. Confusion, shock, devastation, panic. As it ended, all of their cheeks were wet with tears.

"We have to do something!" Taehyung cried. "It might not be too late!"

"Tae... His appointment ended an hour ago, and we don't know when this was recorded. We don't even know where he went," I murmured miserably. "Where do we even start?"

"His therapist," Namjoon stated. "She should know something."

So we went to Yoongi's therapist's office. It was a five minute drive, and the whole time, we were all crying. I tried to not to, since I was driving, but I couldn't help it. Yoongi could be dead. We probably wouldn't be able to save him.

You will, I told myself. You have three others with you this time. It's not like Jungkook.

Yoongi's therapist didn't know much, but she knew enough.

"I don't know where he is," she confessed. "Did something happen?"

"Please, just tell us anything that you noticed today," I insisted, my voice cracking with emotion. She was a psychologist. She could tell what was happening. Her face paled.

"Okay, well, he said that he was going on a vacation," she said quickly, recounting her therapy session with him. "Today he acted calm and collected, like he had a plan, so... I would think that he's either in a really isolated location or he has reserved a place."

"Okay, thank you so much!" I said, bowing and rushing back out to the car. Now we had an idea of where he could've gone. There weren't many isolated places in Seoul, so that probably wasn't it.

But a reserved place...

You could reserve spots at a restaurant and rooms at a hotel. I doubted that Yoongi would die by kimchi, so I loaded the nearby hotels to my GPS.

Seven hotels later, we were unsuccessful and our emotions were fried. Panic had laced every inch of my body, and I felt as if I would never sleep again.

"Seokjin..." Hoseok's voice was shaky, and his face was coated in dried tears. "I think it's too late."

"Hobi, don't think like that," I chided, though I was trying to convince myself as well. Hoseok losing hope was a bad sign. He was the human embodiment of hope, and if he didn't have it, all chances of there being any were virtually destroyed.

"But it's been such a long time since he recorded the message," Hoseok mumbled, his eyes cast downwards. I held my breath, quickly blinking away the new tears.

"Pull over," Namjoon muttered, leaning his head against the window with a dull thumping noise as he stared out at the outskirts of the city. The near-rural scenery skimmed by as we passed the more run-down part of Seoul. "I can't do this anymore."

I bit my lip, trying to fight back a sob. "No, we have to keep look-"

"Just pull over!" Namjoon snapped, thumping his fist against the dashboard. I jumped a little, but still stopped the car on the side of the grimy road. Immediately, he kicked the door open and stormed off into the gray.

"Namjoon, wait!" I sighed and jogged after him, the boys tailing after me. "Namj-"

"Yoongi!" Namjoon was sprinting the fastest he could towards an old motel, one with a flickering neon sign and aging boards. My words caught in my throat.

"Oh my God!" Hoseok screamed, chasing after him. Taehyung made a whimpering sound, and I stumbled after the two ahead.

One of the motel rooms was on fire.

As I made my way towards the fire, it all came together. Yoongi's abnormally full pocket. The fire. Suicide. Those had been matches. He was going to burn himself.

"Stop!" I yelled, coughing and waving the smoke from my face. "It's too dangerous for you!"

"Call the fire department!" Namjoon shouted, running towards the back of the motel. "I'm going to try to find him!"

"Min Yoongi!" Hoseok screamed, his voice piercing through the roaring flames. It was an animalistic scream; it was full of pure, primal agony. It tore through the gray scene, and it cut into all of my emotions.

Hoseok was already mourning because Yoongi was already dead.