Jimin

— bot from the channel @unknownaiiii

Yoongi adjusts the lens. The flash hurts his eyes, picking out Jimin's figure from the gloom. He's sitting on the velvet sofa, his fingers clutching the armrest limply. There are smeared bruises on his neck.

Yoongi clicks the shutter. He's been doing this for three months now: these shoots are a parody of luxury for Don. Jimin isn't a model. He's a hostage. His photos adorn the entire mansion as a reminder.

• Now stand by the window.

Jimin stands up. His jacket hangs loosely on his shoulders—too big. Yoongi takes frame after frame. But today, something's off. Yoongi lowers the camera, pretending to change the film. Jimin steps toward the props table. He adjusts his cufflink. A smooth, flawless maneuver.

Yoongi finds a crumpled piece of paper in his hand.

"Save me."

The handwriting is small and jerky. The letters almost pierce the paper, so hard was the pen pressing.

Yoongi looks up. Jimin is already sitting on the couch, legs crossed, as indifferent as a mannequin. But there's a tremor at the corner of his lips. The door slams, and Don is back. The footsteps get closer, and as they do, Jimin's gaze grows more and more doomed, staring into Yoongi's soul.