Maybe it was the feel of adrenaline pumping through his veins. Or maybe it was that the pain in his heart was overlapping the pain in his body but at that moment, Jimin could feel nothing

There was some sort of joke that you told your friends when they said that something hurt, they'd say to just make something else hurt instead.

Oh, your leg hurts? -Bam- Now your arm hurts more.

It was the only explanation that Jimin had right now for the numbness he felt. His heart was in even deeper pain than the rest of him.

He went under the stage, following a crew member who was showing him the way to the lift.

Jimin's mind was clouded, many thoughts occupying it. Every time he remembered Tae's face, his words, his chest tightened. A word repeating itself in his head over and over again.

Why?

He knew Taehyung's type. He knew what Taehyung liked. He tried his best to be that person for so many years. So why wasn't he good enough?

Jimin watched the crew members run around, carrying the props for his performance on stage. He wasn't sure how they all managed to adjust to the change so quickly or how they were making time but so far things didn't seem too chaotic.

The nerves were getting to him. He could feel his hands and toes turning cold, palms sweating.

He took deep breaths. Tried to focus on something else but Tae's words lingered in his head. 

Jimin just wanted someone to love him.

Was it so much to ask for?

Was it such a ridiculous request?

He bit his lip as the crew member in front of him stopped.

Jimin knew the choreography like the back of his hand. He had practiced it for long hours after all, using up his free time and even lacking some sleep because of it.

His four back up dancers were there. Jimin felt glad for going on with the performance since the others also worked hard to prepare for today.

It also must've been a huge inconvenience to the set designers, the sound and lights engineers and the coordinators.

Yeah, he had to perform. He had to win. If he wasn't good enough for Taehyung then he would just have to prove him wrong. And what better way than to prove him and everyone else wrong than by winning the heart of the King of South Korea?

One of the crew members reexplained the steps to him. Jimin kindly nodded at what he already knew. As soon as they were done, the lift came down. Jimin got on, the other four dancers getting on with him.

His body had gone numb by now. He could move it but couldn't feel it. He convinced himself that this was a good thing. That it would help him. If there was no pain then his performance would be fine.

All he had to do was concentrate, focus on moving his limbs like he knew how to. He was determined. 

The lift clicks as they reach the stage. The four dancers go to their spots on the ground, Jimin moves to the center. Its dark but there are small markings on the stage floor to indicate where he goes.

His body felt cold, he squeezed his hands into fists and then opened them, repeating the process.

He can do this.

The music starts. The sound of violins starting, then the tempo picks up, the dancers start moving. 

Jimin starts moving.

There were plenty of songs that Jimin could have chosen for this performance. He could have gone for a ballet piece, maybe even hip hop or any genre really. But when this song had been suggested, he couldn't say no.

Out of all the choices he had, this song spoke to him. Also the choreography for it was impacting enough to wow the audience. The sharp movements, the small amounts of popping in all the right places, the way each beat went through his body.

"Don't be like a prey, (Be) Smooth like a like a snake."  

His body was almost on autopilot, he didn't even have to think about the next movement or where he had to go. The downside was that when your body moves on its own your mind has more room to think.

Jimin didn't want to think about anything, but his mind was turning foggy. 

And once he put on the blindfold, it got worse. 

He stumbled forward, a part of the routine. He could feel the dancers grab him by the shoulders and keep him up, pulling him back. 

The next parts were simple, step to the left and shake, step to the right and shake. His limbs knew how it went.

But while he made those simple movements, the darkness that covered his eyes made him hallucinate, as if he were daydreaming while his body did its thing.

He could see the form of Taehyung, smiling. He felt a sting at his throat.

He yanked the blind fold off. 

Why was it that even now he could think of nothing else? Why did Tae's face pop up when he had a new objective?

His heart felt like it was choking, his eyes stung. He swallowed. He didn't need Tae. Didn't need Hobi or Jin. He just needed to win. He could finally be happy this way, he would have someone by his side who loved him.

"Caught in a lie. Find the me that was innocent."

He spun on his feet, bounced on it. Left, right, five, six, seven-

Jin-hyung could find someone else. He had a safe home he could go to, had tons of potential suitors back home and would have even more after the competition. He'd have Taehyung with him. Hobi-hyung would probably become famous as well after his performance. 

Everyone would have something great to go back to. Would be able to move on with their lives.

But Jimin?

"I feel so far away, You always come my way."

Jimin had nothing good to go back to. His father was an abusive drunk. His best friend had just rejected him. His other friends would move on but he...he was stuck.

The dancers crowd around him, there's more of them, grabbing him tightly. He goes up in the air, reaches out with his hand.

"Caught in a lie, Find the me that was innocent. I can't free myself from this lie, Give me back my laughter."

Yeah, this competition was all that he had going for him. It was his only way out of the hell he was living.

They bring him down.

"Caught in a lie, Find the me that was innocent. I can't free myself from this lie, Give me back my laughter."  

He goes to his knees, glances out at the audience. The bright lights stung his eyes. A tear rolls down his cheek.

Feelings can change, he was sure. The King loved Jin-hyung right now, but that can change, he was sure.

He was sure he could stir the King's heart. He was sure that the King could love him like he needed.

He had to.

The lights went off.

Namjoon tried not to look like he was in a hurry, but he was. He wanted to make it to Seokjin as fast as possible. 

Maybe it would've been a better idea to have appeared to be in a hurry, because maybe that way the royal advisers wouldn't had stopped him on his way.

"Ah, Your Majesty," Adviser Sung Dong-il called out as he approached him. Adviser Lee Byung-joon standing next to him. "Good to see you."

Namjoon briefly nodded his head to acknowledge their presence, "Adviser Sung, Adviser Lee," he said politely. Although wanting nothing more than to just go on his way. Appearances were important for a King though.

"It's quite good that our paths have crossed, Your Majesty." Sung says with a twisted smile. "We were hoping to speak with you."

The King personally didn't hope to speak to any of them and he highly doubted that this meeting was a coincidence. It had seemed as though the two advisers were waiting for him. Namjoon really wasn't in the mood to hear any bullshit from them.

"Today you pick the top ten candidates that are to remain in the competition," Lee comments. "We just wanted to offer our assistance, of course. We have to make sure that you have taken into account the public's interest and of course the well being of your country. We suggest holding a meeting before the announcement? So that all the advisers can agree upon the decision you've made?"

"Are you assuming that I have not taken those factors in mind, Adviser Lee?" The King questions, knowing very well that they would not admit to such a thing. "Bold of you to assume that your King needs help in picking his husband."

"Of course not, Your Excellency." Lee bows, acting shocked at the comment. He glances at Sung next to him. "I would never-"

Adviser Sung decides to interject. "We'd just like to add in a friendly reminder as to which candidates bring in the most benefits for the country, is all."

"Yes, for example candidate number forty four could help in making an alliance with China."

"Or candidate forty seven seems to be a public favorite, he could ease the heart of the country with grand events, maybe even properly entertain foreign guests. He does seem to have the ability to woo."

"There's also candidate number seventeen who-"

"Gentlemen," Namjoon interrupts, narrowing his eyes. "I am thankful for your worry regarding your king, but I have weighed out my options and have in mind a good selection, I can assure you."

The two men look skeptical. Namjoon doesn't pay much attention to it. Just turns around and walks away. Not even bothering to bid his farewell.

When he was in his early teens, his grandmother would tell him to always be wary of the royal advisers.

"There's nothing royal about them," she would say, "They wish they were, though, that's why we must be careful."

Then she would comment on how Korean dramas would always choose the advisers as leaders of a revolution for a reason. They always wanted the throne.

Namjoon couldn't understand power hungry people. If you wanted power it should be because it was the best way to help others. The position of King wasn't just to rule over a country and maintain order, it was mostly to help the people of the country.

Not everyone saw it that way though.

Perhaps, his father had been a bad king. Maybe Jungkook's had been too. Namjoon's father had been too kind, never wanting to participate in wars, but that meant other countries wanted to take advantage of such morale, thinking it to be weak.

Jungkook's father had been the opposite. Had made a rule during his reign that every male between the ages of 18 to 35 would have to serve in a compulsory military service of 2 years. He had also started the war with the North.

The citizens didn't like the idea, but as Namjoon analyzed it, what other solutions were there? To stand aside and be bullied by other countries, maybe even have the possibility of being conquered or to fight back but lose citizen lives?

Namjoon knew his role was a great one. His grandmother had managed to restore some peace to the country while she acted as Queen Regent, but she didn't have much time left. Namjoon's turn would soon come and he knew that many, including those pesky advisers, didn't think him to be fit for the role.

All because he liked men. As if that had anything to do with running a country.

He reached the infirmary, stopped at the threshold. He peeked inside, saw Kim Taehyung sitting on one of the couches, while Seokjin laid on the cot with his eyes closed. Namjoon knocked on the wall, Taehyung looked up.

"Hey," Joon said nervously.

"Hi," Taehyung responded. 

The silence between the two was rather awkward. Namjoon scratched his neck and stepped in, not knowing why he was waiting for permission to do so. He gazed at Seokjin's sleeping figure. "Is he any better?"

"Fever's gone," Taehyung says. His hair is messy, his eyes look red and puffy as if he'd been crying. "Doctor Song says he might wake up soon."

Namjoon nods. Seokjin did look a bit better. The color was restored to his cheeks, his breathing seemed regulated now and he appeared to be resting peacefully.

"I'm still mad at you," Taehyung suddenly says. Namjoon turns to him, seeing the boy's cheeks puffed out. "I still don't forgive you for cheating on Jin-hyung."

The king sighs. "I haven't really forgiven myself either," he admits, sheepishly.

Taehyung briefly nods before standing. "Good," he says as he straightens his clothes. "I'm going to go now. I still got to go perform."

"Right. Good luck."

When Taehyung leaves, Namjoon pulls a tall bench from the corner and drags it next to Jin's cot. He takes a seat and just watches the latter as he sleeps soundly.

Seokjin's jacket had been removed and set off to the side. The button up shirt that he was wearing, however, was buttoned down a bit low. 

Namjoon blushed as he caught notice of it, the opening gave him a pretty good view of Jin's collar bones and the top of his chest.

He cleared his throat and reached over to button the shirt up a bit, his hands trembling a bit as they brush Seokjin's skin a bit as he does so. 

Something catches his eye though as he's about to finish up with the top button. A small, shiny silver chain that's wrapped around his neck. Namjoon glances at it, wondering if the other might be uncomfortable with it on.

Reaching into Seokjin's shirt collar, he tries to find the clasp so he can take the chain off. His fingers feel something else before reaching the clasp, though.

He pulls at the cold metal between his fingers, brings the item up. His breath catches a bit, eyes blinking several times.

Its the ring. The promise ring he had gotten for the two of them. Namjoon had thought that maybe Jin had thrown it away or even given it to someone after what he did with Jimin.

But there it was, hung around his neck on a thin metal chain. Just like Namjoon's was.

A smile appears on the king's lips. It was something probably insignificant to others, but after Jin's performance and seeing this ring...for some reason his heart was thumping loudly.

He moved closer to carefully pull at the chain so that it could loosely hang, rather than choke the male. As his hands went back under Jin's neck he heard someone clear their throat. He looked up.

Seokjin was staring down at him, brow cocked, lips curving to the side and his face a clear mixture of confusion with a hint of amusement.

"This, Your Majesty," the patient says, "is clearly sexual harassment."