“Through all of youth, I was looking for you.
Without knowing what I was looking for.”
— W.S. Merwin

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The so-called vacation had started before Jimin even knew, time indeed waits for no one. As promised he had been granted ten days of solitude. No official notice was given. In fact, he left Seoul at midnight and it was already his fifth day in London. Except for a bodyguard and a driver, he had no one. Part of the reason was to avoid the public eye.

“I can manage on my own, it's just an art gallery.”

The bodyguard sighed, he understood Jimin. He wanted to make the most out of his free days but it was dangerous.

“Sir, if something happens—”

“Nothing will happen,” Jimin said, slinging his bag on and wearing a cap and a mask. “You'll be there in a few hours, I can manage until then. And Hyun hung-nim will be with the car, we'll get back if we face anything.”

His manager wasn't with him. As a group, they had one person with them and with all the album activities going on he stayed back and was due to join Jimin when the shooting was to start. So, his bodyguard was the only person who was directly in contact with the backstage crew and some pre-production settlements that were going on.

“Just stay inside until I get there. I know there's no official announcement of your arrival but we know the extent some of your fans can go to.”

Jimin just nodded, getting out of his hotel room and going out to get on his way to this art museum Taehyung had recommended him. He was not exactly very fond of such things but based on Taehyung's enthusiasm, it deserved a visit.

❈❈❈

Jimin had the driver drop him a little far from the ‘Tate Britain’ near the banks of the Thames, it was a small walk from there. It was a huge white building, a beautiful neo-classical architectural style. He remembered Taehyung telling him that it was from the nineteenth century.

The entry to the art gallery was free and Jimin had no plans to visit any extensions so he just entered after a simple security check-up.

The huge spiralling staircases, and long white walls adorned with paintings, by artists he had no clue about. He just walked around simply taking in the beauty, he wanted to hire someone to tell him and describe the stories and contexts behind them. But he knew he didn't have the freedom to do it right now, doing that meant revealing his identity and he knew the consequences of it.

He kept walking, having a little trouble but still trying to read the names and artists, taking a few pictures so he could at least have a conversation about this with Taehyung.

He wandered and wandered until he ended up behind a group of people circling a man who looked like he was in his late thirties, he was gesturing towards a painting and describing it in Japanese and English at the same time. Jimin was glad from the bottom of his heart that he stumbled upon them.

There were a lot of paintings on the wall, gold framed. But the painting the man was gesturing towards read “Ophelia” by John Everett Millais.

The guide explained, “It's a painting of Ophelia, you already know that from the title. But the question is who was she?”

“She's a character from William Shakespeare's play Hamlet, take a thoughtful look at her expressions.”

“Millais paints the scene as she drowns while singing, the detailed flora of the river and the riverbank.”

One of the boys in the group asked, “She's singing while drowning? Why so?”

The tour guide smiled, “Well, there are many interpretations of her actions, her open arms and her gaze towards the sky, to some she looks like a saint and to some it looks erotic.”

“But I must recommend you to read Hamlet, this scene is described in Act IV, Scene VII. It's a description at most but you will feel it in your bones, the grief and her distress. To this date, Ophelia's death gets praised as one of the most poetically written deaths in literature.”

The boy took a detailed note of that.

“Ophelia was exhibited in Tokyo too, in 1998 and 2008. Natsume Sōseki had mentioned it in his novel a few times too.”

Jimin could see the boy's eyes lit up, he must have had known the author or was a fan. He made a mental note too, that he'd search for the work.

The group left the scene stepping ahead as the guide started talking about something else. Jimin stood there staring at Ophelia with pinched eyebrows.

“A poetical death?” he chuckled.

“It's bewildering, how insane he was to find death beautiful.” He stared at her open mouth and lost eyes, sighing deeply.

“I guess I'm insane too.”

With that he strolled ahead, fumbling to get his phone out of his bag while walking. There were dozens of texts and calls from Wooshik, his bodyguard, and from Hyun too.

“Why is it on silent?”

It had been almost two hours of him roaming around the art museum. So, he turned back, making his way back to the main exit. He called Wooshik back first and the line hadn't even started ringing properly before the other picked up.

“Jimin? Oh my god, you're safe.”

“Yes? Where are you?”

“Stay away from the main doors Jimin, get as far as possible.”

“What? I'm almost there.” Jimin replied nonchalantly, looking here and there to find Wooshik, his feet rhythmically approaching the doors. The place looked like a mess, security guards were running forward, and his ears were starting to ring out of loud chaos.

“Wooshik hyung? What happened?”

“Jimin, get back, go back. I'll find a way to get in . . . they've shut the entrance from the parking too, Hyun is unable to enter too.”

“But why?” He was lost between so many instructions without any context at all.

“Haven't you checked Twitter? It's trending! Jimin in london!”

The phone almost dropped from Jimin's hands, that's how fast he panicked. His fingers were fumbling to find the damned blue app, while his eyes and feet darted back to find the restroom. There was pure horror in his heart, as he heard the loud voices outside, of people screaming his name.

He went on the app clicking multiple times on the same damn icon or words, it was trending worldwide. And his soul almost evaporated from his body when he saw his pictures, how did they recognise him? Most of his face was hidden. How were they so sure that it was him?

He was scared, he was bloody alone.

His body was shaking as he entered the men's room, it was empty. He called Hyun.

“Hyung?”

“Jimin, I told you to let me follow in.” The other's voice was loud with panic too, and it wasn't helping the increasing pit of darkness in Jimin's gut.

“W-Where can I find you?” His voice was almost trembling, exaggerating the pronunciation of almost all letters and still barely being able to speak.

“Stuck in the parking. They're not letting me in, neither are they letting the car out.”

There was a long silence, Jimin's foot tapping echoing in the room.

“Can you find a way to meet me by the Thames? Wooshik will try to be there with another car.”

Jimin hastily agreed and Hyun hung up, but now he was even more troubled. He needed help but asking for it was dangerous, if he revealed his identity in front of someone who turned out to be those crazy obsessed fans, he was done for.

He heard footsteps approaching and hurriedly went to act like he was washing his hands. It was a group of French men, they were laughing and other than that, the emotions and words were not understandable to him. He kept acting as if he was fixing his clothes and so on until they left and he was alone again.

“This is bad.” He could feel his quads and foot soles hurting and burning from the tension. He couldn't lose himself right now, there was no one to anchor him back to reality there.

With shivering hands, he picked his phone back up thinking about messaging just anyone but stopped after hearing someone enter again. He went back to acting and fixing his hair and clothes with panicked hands again.

The man who entered was in his early twenties he assumed, somewhere near himself. He could see the familiar Korean features on him as well as English. He waited, he was contemplating if he should ask this man or not.

He was tall, almost a foot over Jimin, lean but still Jimin could make out the lines of his muscles through the shirt he was wearing.

He saw the tall man entering one of the stalls, it was the longest five minutes of Jimin's life, and he could swear on it. He almost sighed out loud as soon as the man came out and rested his big ass bag and canvases right next to him.

The man was wearing a black mask too, he took it off and carefully folded it before putting it in his bag, followed by the black-rimmed metallic square glasses he was wearing. Jimin noticed his eyes, the cold yet weirdly mesmerizing icy blue of his eyes, it sent a spark of fascination down his spine.

With the loosened tie and the firm square jaw, the man looked extremely polite and ambitious altogether. He had the aura of a saint but the lips, the thin yet pouty shape of them, so sinning.

Jimin mentally slapped himself, he needed to distract himself but surely not like this.

The man had already started to gather his things and put his glasses back on. Jimin had to make a decision. If this man left, there might be no one else to help him.

He cleared his throat, feeling his tongue ease up with the English he had so much practiced, “I, I- hel-pp, can y-ou . . .”

The man stopped with his actions and stared at him, waiting for him to continue.

“M-My English is- is no good . . .” the korean accent was heavy on his tongue.

But to his surprise, the man answered him in Korean, “How can I help you?”

Jimin would have signed all his assets off to this man, he was that happy listening to his native language.

“Please, help me. I need to get out of here.”

“You can follow me to the exit if you're having a hard time finding it.”

“No, no. I—”

Jimin couldn't think of any way to describe his problem without telling him who he was. So, with a shaky hand and prayers in his head, he removed his mask.

There was a long silence before the man's mouth turned into an ‘O’.

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a/n:
london is a place i have only yet dreamed of. i'm not a native, so i hope you excuse any mistakes i make in the geographical and domestic structure of the city.♡