Waiting.

One minute.

He's just started. Give him time.

Two minutes.

Still patiently biting your nails.

Three minutes.

Four.

Five.

Six minutes.

You anxiously stare at your phone, waiting, hoping for his call.

Seven long, torturous minutes.

Eight terrible, apprehensive minutes.

Ten slow, dragging minutes.

Thirteen excruciating minutes.

Hope dwindles within you.

He's going to call me back he's going to call me back he's going to-

Seventeen minutes.

He's not going to call me back.

Twenty minutes.

You collapse into your desk chair and put your head on the table. The cool wood presses your forehead flat and makes your skull sore.

The minutes stretch on and on.

And on and on.

And on.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

The phone.

The phone is ringing.

You lift your head up abruptly and aggressively tap the answer call button.

Jimin's smiling face appears on the screen.

"Jimin did you do it? Please tell me you did it."

"I forgot my address."

Huh? You stare at the screen in disbelief. All the color and warmth drains from your face, along with all the hope you had a few seconds ago. He's- he's not- he didn't... succeed.

"You... you what?"

Jimin pouts. "I forgot my address," he says. "But-but they said they would find me! Does that count?"

Not even that sounds reassuring. "Y-yes Chim, it counts. You-you did good."

"Then why are you crying? I don't like it when you cry."

"I... I just-"

"I'm so hungry," Jimin mutters. "Hey, I get kisses now right? I did what you asked."

You nod numbly. "Yes."

"But wait, you're all the way over there," he says. "How will you-"

"I'm coming," you murmur. "I'll be there soon."

"Yay!"

You're not sure this is how he would be acting if he was drugged. Would he be acting loopy or would he just be tired and pass out? How is he still awake right now? If he can't breathe, and he's sweating uncontrollably, and he's so tired, he should have passed out. Right?

"Y/n, you look so sad. Aren't you happy you're coming to see me?"

"I am," you say, voice quivering. "I'm so, so happy."

You are not happy.

You don't want to find him in worse condition than he is now, if that's possible.

What are his parents doing to him?

"Oh. Then are those happy tears?"

You sniffle and look at Jimin through the phone. There are dark circles under his eyes. He's so tired. He needs to rest.

"I-I miss you," you stutter.

"I miss you t-"

Jimin's smile disappears and he looks away from the camera, revealing a cut about an inch under his ear. It's small and caked with dried blood. There's a trail of older, darker red blood all the way down the back of his neck.

You hold your breath.

"Oh no," Jimin says. His expression is now serious. "She's coming. I have to hang up."

"No!" You let out in a rough, desperate sob. "No no no please don't go! Chim I-I can stay here with you. I can be here while you-"

"No you can't. I won't let you."

"Jimin please don't-"

"I love you, call you tomorrow."

"No no no please Jimin! Don't hang up don't-"

The screen goes black.

And Jimin is gone again.

•••

Two days.

That's how long it has been since Jimin called you.

There are two options:

One, Jimin's phone was taken away from him.

Two, something really really bad happened to him and even if he does have his phone, he is unable to pick it up and call you.

Or maybe it could be both.

Namjoon texted you this morning to tell you that Minji knows about what's going on now and she went to the police to tell them everything she knows.

Which includes Jimin's secret.

That's not important anymore. Who cares if people find out? As long as he is rescued from that house, it shouldn't matter.

"Y/n, can we talk?"

You shut your locker and turn to face Kieth. You're in the break room together. You just closed down the Starbucks and are getting ready to leave for the night.

"About what?" You ask. You and Kieth haven't really been talking. You aren't exactly over what he said before. He still thinks it's a bad idea to fly all the way out to Korea. He hasn't told you as much, but every time he has spoken to you for the past couple of days, he wants to know if you're still going.

Kieth sighs. "I'm... I'm apologizing."

"Again?" You scoff. "Kieth, every single time you say something about it and it gets on my nerves, you say sorry and then bring it up again the next day. Do you even mean it?"

Kieth purses his lips for a moment, frustrated.

At what? He's being stupid.

"I just don't want you to get hurt," he says quietly.

"You've said that before. I told you I'll be fine. I can take care of myself."

"Not... hurt like that."

"Oh, so you're gonna sit here and tell me he's faking it again? He isn't. I know he-"

"Not like that either," Kieth says. "I mean... like, what if something worse has happened and you just don't know it yet? What if-"

"I can't think like that right now, Kieth. I can't afford that."

"I-"

"If you have nothing else to talk about, I'm gonna leave now."

Kieth doesn't move. He doesn't speak. You suffer through the silence for only a moment more before you leave the room.

As you exit the shop and head for the mall entrance to leave, you check your notifications.

Four missed calls from Namjoon. Three minutes ago.

Four texts from Namjoon. Two minutes ago.

Namjoon

Hey you didn't answer any of my calls so I'm gonna assume you're busy but please call me back as soon as possible
It's important
It's about Jimin
I don't wanna tell you over text

You stop dead in your tracks right in front of the door leading outside.

You give yourself a long moment to prepare.

Every time Namjoon has news, it isn't good.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Call.

Your finger hovers over the call button. What if they found Jimin and he's in terrible condition? He wouldn't be dead, right? His parents wouldn't... kill him. Right? What if he is back in a coma again? What if his parents ditched the house and moved him somewhere else?

No. That would be stupid. As far as you know, his parents have no idea that you and Namjoon and Minji are aware of what's happening. They wouldn't move him.

You press the call button and push through the door.

The cool September air presses against your face. Despite a weak breeze blowing leaves and trash around, and the sound of a car engine, the night is quiet for one single, prolonged moment. Then the phone rings once.

Twice.

Three times.

Namjoon picks up.

"Y/n! How are you?"

"Not very good. I'm a little anxious."

"Don't worry," Namjoon says. "This isn't bad news."

"It's good?" You ask hopefully, walking slowly to a car in the parking lot. It's mom's car.

"Well, that depends."

"Okay. I'm ready. Just tell me."

"The police found Jimin."

You hold your breath. That's amazing news. What's the not-so-great part?

"...but?"

"Well that's just it. He's in the hospital again now. Minji said she waited for him and the doctors told her that they had to put him to sleep again. He should wake up soon though. There's only a small chance that he'll end up in another coma."

You let your breath out.

"Is he- is he okay?"

"They treated his wounds. Minji said she doesn't know how severe they are. And they're also treating his fever. Apparently he's really sick, and when they found him at first, he was really high."

You make it to the car and open the door, then climb in, ignoring mom's look of question when she sees your phone. Apparently your some-what relieved expression isn't that relieved-looking.

"But he'll be okay?" You ask Namjoon.

"Yeah, we think so."

Mom makes an, "oh," face and pulls the car out of its spot in the parking lot.

"He should wake up again by the time you get here," Namjoon says. "Which will be great. You'll get to see him again."

Excitement and hope and anxiety and longing fill your chest and you almost want to smile, if it weren't for the fear that something will go wrong before you make it to Korea.

"I need Sunday to come faster," you mutter. "Thanks Joon. For agreeing to get me to Busan."

"Hey no problem. I want to see him too. It's been a while."

"How bad do you think his injuries are?"

"I'm not sure. Minji just said he was given more drugs to sleep, and they treated him."

"Is it safe to use more drugs?"

"I guess it was, since the doctors used them. He could have just been high from his fever."

"The last time he called me, he wasn't thinking straight," you mumble. "I think it might have been the drugs."

"Either way, he's safe now. The doctors are working to get it out of his system and treat his fever. He should be okay."

"Okay," you breathe. "Okay. I'll see you soon."

"Uh huh. Good night."

"Bye."

You hang up the phone.

"What... what's the news?" Mom asks hesitantly, eyes never leaving the road.

You open your mouth to answer, but before you can say anything, you burst into tears.

Hey they're not completely sad tears this time!!! That's an improvement!

I feel like I make Y/n cry way too much but at the same time when I do make her cry it seems completely rational to me. Honestly if I had a Jimin and I lost him like that I'd never STOP crying.

Also idk if ppl could get high (or just act weird) off of fevers. I googled it for like ten minutes and NONE OF THE RESULTS TELL ME WHAT I SEARCHED FOR. I wish I had a doctor friend to ask questions to.

Sorry for the long note. Have a good day/night!<3

-L