bt Merve_a_art

I opened one eye, then the other. Something had woken me up, but I couldn't place where the sound had come from. The room was stupidly bright. Much brighter than any room had the right to be, and something was smelling funny. 

I blinked a couple of times but my eyes were unable to adjust. Fine as well. I closed them again and tried to sleep some more, but that fucking pounding headache wouldn't stop bugging me. Was that what had woken me up?

There was this stupid, irritating sound again, and I needed it to stop, but I couldn't make out the source. This would require me to open my eyes, and I was sure this wouldn't be the greatest of ideas. I felt dizzy. I felt… I… fuck, where was the toilet?

A bucket got shoved into my face and I emptied my guts. I tried opening my eyes again, but the stupid sun and I were apparently mortal enemies. 

"Rapmon, stop," someone shouted before a big and wet tongue decided to wash my visage. More of the noise. 

"Here," a glass of what I assumed was cold water got pressed into my hands. "I've put some aspirin in it, too." 

Pain medication sounded good. I took a hearty sip. 

"Not too quick," the voice reprimanded. "Or you'll get sick again."

"I'm aww…'eady sick," I groaned. 

"No, you're just drunk as fuck. What the heck were you thinking?"

"I was thi…'ing I dun wanna thin'…" my mouth refused to cooperate. I hope Joon—and I was kinda sure it was Joon who was speaking to me—got what I was trying to say. 

Joon! Hold on! I was at Joon's place. Where was Jimin? My eyes flew open, and I gazed around. I was on the sofa and next to me sat Rapmonster, trying to eat my face. More odd noises were coming from the kitchen. "My neighbour is here, cooking for us," Joon explained. "Jimin is helping her." 

I nodded, trying to comprehend his words. 

"Drink up," Joon gestured to the still half-full glass of water in my hands. 

"Jimin is helping… with the cooking?" 

"And he's apparently doing a quite good job. Well, better than me in any case."

"Everyone is better than you in the kitchen," I mumbled, and was surprised Joon didn't retort. 

"What happened, hyung?" He asked instead. "You were fine when we left, and not even twenty minutes later, I come home to find you lying on the kitchen floor, mumbling nothing but utter nonsense, smelling like an entire brewery."

"What had happened? What hasn't happened?" I tried to get up, but my head was still spinning. I ground my teeth then took a shaky step forward. I needed to get to Joon's bedroom where I knew he had his PC set up. "Jus' need-o use the internet for-a sec," I told him. 

I started the machine which was likely just as old as its owner, and connected via an old-fashioned modem that should have been buried and mourned back in the early nineties. I wondered whether that machine even had the capacity to load a page from this century. 

"What are you looking for?"

"Places."

"Places? What kind of places?" Joon hung in the doorframe. 

"Places to live." 

"Ah, well. I can't blame you for wanting to move out of there. What's your budget? I could perhaps help you look."

My budget? I wanted to bark a laugh. "Somewhere between nil, zero, and zilch."

Joon raised an eyebrow. "And what's really your budget?"

I slumped my shoulders. "That's my real budget. This is my last week at the office. If no magic miracle happens overnight, I have no job, no place to live. And no parents to support me."

"Have you gone around to finally file that missing person report?" Joon tripped over the computer cable then plonked down on his bed. 

I bent down, sighed, plugged the cable back in, then started the old-fashioned machine anew. More screeching noises that apparently were the crème de la crème of last millennium's internet connection. 

"No need. They're all well and fine. They only blocked my number. I guess that's them telling me I'm no longer welcome." Somehow, I didn't even manage to sound bitter about this. I simply felt dejected. 

Joon clasped his hand on my shoulder. "That's not the first time your parents pulled a stunt like that, and I'm sure it's not going to be the last."

"I know…But…" I scratched my head while trying to sort my thoughts. "I guess it just came at a really bad time. And you know… It's not only me they're cutting off this time." I bit hard on my lips. There it was, the root of my anger. "Cutting off me means cutting off Jimin, too. Just how fake and self-absorbed are those people?" I banged my fist on the keyboard and some keys came jumping my way. "You know how they treated Jimin! You know how he always used to be the favourite, the prodigy. Their pride and joy. And fucking now they don't even want to acknowledge that they have a son. It's like he's a different person to them now that he has a disability. Something they can just take and throw out, because it's faulty and no longer needed."

There was an odd noise coming from the door, and Joon and I turned our heads. Jimin was standing there, a tray with two bowls in his hands. A third bowl was lying on the floor with the rice spilled all over. Rapmonster was there in an instant, eagerly sloshing up the unexpected feast. 

My brother's eyes shifted from me to Joon, then back. "I'm faulty," he said while slowly nodding to himself. "I'm faulty, faulty, faulty."  The nodding turned to a rocking and the tray and its contents were sent flying to the floor. "Faulty, faulty, faulty."  

"Jimin, no you're not." I grabbed him by the shoulders and tried to get him to look me in the eyes, but he kept his gaze turned downwards. 

"You're not faulty." I repeated, trying to keep my voice steady. "You're wonderful, and you're special, and you're one of the very best people I know."

"Faulty, fault, faulty." Jimin kept chanting, and it hurt more than the 'dummy, dummy, dummy' from previous weeks.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, I wanted to wring my own neck. Instead, I squeezed my brother and hugged him as tightly as I could. "You're not faulty." I repeated. "Do you understand me? You're the person with the least amount of faults I know. You're special. Very, very, special. And I love you so, so, so much!"

The rocking slowly subsided, and after a while, Jimin hugged me back, pressing his chin so hard into my shoulder that it started to hurt. I'd happily endure this pain for the rest of my life. 

"You're not faulty!" And I meant every word. Gosh, why hadn't I explained myself better? Why had I not considered that Jimin might be listening into the conversation?

Why was I always too stupid to avoid hurting the person I loved most? I squeezed Jimin even tighter. 

"I need prison because I'm faulty?" 

A knife being pushed right through my guts and twisted a couple of times couldn't have hurt half as much as this question. "No, Jimin. You don't need prison. What those men did was wrong, okay? What happened to you was very, very wrong. And those people owe you a fucking apology." And a night behind bars. And handcuffs. I'm sure there are some medieval torture devices we can bring back into fashion. Thump screws and tongue twisters sound like funny little and handy gadgets to have.

"Yoongi hyung is right," Joon, who had been silent throughout our interaction said. "The police made a big mistake last night, and I want to personally apologise to you." 

Both of us looked at my brother, waiting for some sort of reaction. A moment later, tears started streaming down Jimin's cheeks, and he sniffled into his sleeve. "Why?"

"Why what, Jimin?" I asked carefully and with the biggest clot known to mankind stuck in my throat.

"Why did police mistake me?"

"Because Mr Weselsky called them, and they came to arrest you without investigating the scene and without getting a full picture of the situation." I said carefully. I tried to keep the anger out of my voice, fearing Jimin might assume it was directed at him, but I couldn't help the slight quiver. 

"Why?"My brother's voice was shaking, too.

Joon sighed. "Those policemen were still in training. That's why they made many mistakes. They shouldn't have been sent there without a supervisor."

Jimin looked like he contemplated Joon's words for a moment, then he closed his eyes shut and took a deep, shaky breath. 

We all stayed silent for a couple of heartbeats.

"You?" He finally looked up, pointing at me.

"What do you mean?"

"Police mistake you?" 

"No, I never got arrested in error," I told him. "This is not a very common mistake, Jimin. Normally the police knows what to do and is here to help you, like Joon."

Jimin cocked his head, looking at my friend. "Police mistake you?"

"No, Jimin. I never got arrested."

"Mommy and Daddy got mistaked? Ms Eli got mistaked?"

I slumped my shoulders in defeat, finally understanding where those questions were heading. "No, Jimin, no one else I know mistakenly got arrested. As I said, these were very, very unusual circumstances." There was a knot inside my stomach, as I realised exactly what Jimin had figured out minutes before I reached the same conclusion. He hadn't done anything wrong. But he had been arrested. Because he was different. 

"Why don't you sit down for a moment?" I guided Jimin to the edge of Joon's bed, then kneeled down in front of him. I sighed. This wasn't going to be an easy conversation to be had. 

I took both of his hands into mine and couldn't help noticing how delicate they were. Whereas I had made fun of his oversized feet just a few hours ago, Jimin's hands were much smaller than my own. It almost felt like holding a child's hands. 

"You had this…incident in December…? Do you remember?"

Jimin contemplated for a moment, but then nodded his head. "Little girl, red car," he said, nodding. 

I swallowed hard, wondering exactly how the memory of that day's incident had manifested itself inside Jimin's mind. I was glad Dr Han had given me a little heads up a few months ago. "What exactly do you remember from that day?" I tried hard for my voice to sound calm, but I didn't think I succeeded.

"A big green car crashed into a boxy black car. Then the big green car did this," Jimin got up, did a three-sixty and sat back down. "And then the big green car got pushed into the little red car with the woman in the blue shirt and the little girl. And the little red car with the woman in the blue shirt and the little girl was breaking really, really hard," Jimin imitated screeching noises. "And then, the woman in the blue shirt jumped out of the little red car. And the woman in the blue shirt was wearing blue trousers, too." Jimin looked towards the window, eyes glazed over. He bit his lip, then continued. "The woman in the blue shirt and the blue trousers tried to open the backseat door, but the door was stuck. The woman in the blue shirt and the blue trousers screamed."  Jimin furrowed his brow. "I come running and I open the door and I throw little girl. And then the car falls down and I fall down and then there is water. Loads of water." Jimin looks up at me. "Head hurts now. Can I sleep?"

"Of…of course you can." Joon's voice sounded thick as he fluffed up his pillow and covered Jimin with his blanket. His eyes were slightly glazed…and red. 

"Joon?" 

"You never told me. I guess you knew, based on your reaction. But I never knew…"

"…That Jimin saved a little kid's life by jumping into a car that got pushed off Long Bridge," I nodded, my own voice sounding just as thick as Joon's. "Her name is Emi and she's four years old."

"Did Jimin ever meet the girl? Since the accident, I mean?" Joon asked.

I shook my head. "Not as far as I know. Jimin's emergency care doctor told me. Dr Han." The lady whom I owed a massive apology. 

"Maybe she could help you arrange a meeting. I'm sure the mother and girl are very grateful to Jimin." Joon turned to me. "Jimin obviously knows that he is… well… different, and I think meeting the girl whose life he so selflessly saved might help him realise that this is okay. That he is perfect the way he is. More than that. That he is a great person. Probably better than most other people I know."

I nodded slowly. When Dr Han pointed out the little girl to me, I had felt so enormously proud of my brother. And perhaps meeting her would make him feel utterly proud of his deeds as well. I looked up. Jimin was indeed fast asleep, snoring and drooling with his mouth hanging open. I chuckled and mine and Joon's eyes met. "Adorable," he said. 

I gave my friend a weak smile, then sat down at the edge of the bed, next to my brother and rubbed my temples. "What a fucking day," I mumbled.

"I need to head off to work soon," Joon said apologetically. "You're welcome to stay here, but I can drop you off wherever."

"Technically, I needed to be at the mail office five minutes ago and Jimin's pick up should be waiting in front of my stupid apartment." And technically, I should head over to my crib to remove all my shit, but I can't bring myself to give a fuck.

"And practically? Do you have any intention of sending Jimin to work after his ordeal? Or yours?"

"Mine?" I looked up at Joon with furrowed brows.

"You may not have been the one getting arrested, but last night had put you through the grinder, too. Are you sure you have the right mind-frame for going to work?"

Mind-frame for work? Mate, I lost that somewhere around 2013. I rubbed my temples. An alcohol-induced headache was swiftly approaching, but that was something easily fixed with some more aspirin. But I had a whole future to sort out. "Where does one apply for social benefits?" I finally pressed out, hating that I had to ask this question. I may have never been rich, but I always prided myself for making it on my own. 

I bit my lip. Had I really? Ever since Jimin had come to live with me, I had borrowed money from Joon twice, tried to get some more from my parents (although with no success) and tried to apply for various loans (also without any success). That wasn't the pinnacle of independent living. 

"Social benefits?" Joon raised his brows, "you mean as in getting support for Jimin's care?"

I barked out a laugh. "Support for Jimin's care? I get fifty-thousand won a month. His therapies alone come to about one-twenty, and the daily pick up to MOTS house is a grand. Jimin's earning only about seventy-five, so all in all I barely break even. And even that was a struggle to get." I bit my lip until I could taste my own blood. "No, but from Monday, I will not only be unemployed but also homeless."

"Homeless? Don't tell me you overreacted?"

"Overreact? Mr Yu and Mr Weselsky… they're utter…"

Joon clamped his hand over my mouth and pointed to Jimin's sleeping form. "I know, I know and I agree. But couldn't you have waited with your termination until you found somewhere new?"

"I would have, had the decision been up to me. I'm not that much of an idiot, thank you."

"You…they…kicked you out?"

"Jackpot."

"Shit!"

"Exactly that."

Joon scratched his nose, and looked around his living space. "I mean… It's tiny here, but you and Jimin are welcome for as long as you need, okay?"

"Thanks mate. I do appreciate this. But anyway, I think I better get something sorted out as soon as possible. With the speed bureaucracy works, we'll be in your face until twenty-twenty-seven either way."

Joon nodded. "Of course, I only wanted to let you know that you have options, okay. I ain't gonna leave you hanging, okay?"

I nodded, and sucked in my cheeks. How the fuck did I deserve friends like this? I just hoped one day the fucking universe did a one-eighty and offered me opportunities to pay back all those favours I owed. 

"You could do me a favour." I finally said. "Tonight, could you drop me off at my place? So I can scrape together my belongings?"

Joon nodded. "Sure thing." He checked his watch. "Okay, I gotta be heading off now. But call me if there is anything at all you need. I know how your stupid brain works, and that you think you need to get through this shit by yourself, but that's not the case, okay."

"Thanks."

"I also try to source some information for you at work. Funding and such… I'll have my intern phone you with information."

"Doesn't your intern have any more important things to do?"

Joon laughed. "Since I've been put on the investigation there is nothing much I can have him do. He doesn't have the security clearance. Believe me, he'll be happy to have something other than bunny videos on TikTok to look at."

"If you say so."

"Don't worry, hyung. And take care of Jimin. Poor little fellow. Last night surely took a toll on him. He'll need you."

I nodded, the big clot in my throat was coming back and making it difficult to breathe. I balled my fists. I wanted nothing more than accompany Joon to the station just to beat up some of his idiotic colleagues. 

"I'll just look up some resources on the internet while he's sleeping. Maybe I'm lucky enough for your post-war modem to load a whole page or two."

"It's only…" Joon squinted his eyes, assumably counting,.."about twenty-three years old."

"Only…? My poor arse has a better modem than you."

"My comfortable arse has the latest Samsung, and I hardly have any use for my computer these days."

"Show-off."

Joon flashed me a wide grin. "I also got an iPad. You can search for stuff on there. It's in the living room." 

I glared from the computer to him and back, "you're telling me this now?"

Joon shrugged. "You could've asked."

I bit my lip then nodded. "Thanks. I shall do just that."

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