Thread by @dazzletae, 'numerics' a bts au by me ! Min Yoongi was an ordinary [...]

'numerics' a bts au by me !

Min Yoongi was an ordinary 27-year-old man. A Pisces. Unmarried, and living in his poky Stratford flat. He ate own-brand cereal for breakfast, cafeteria sandwiches for lunch, instant noodles for dinner. Took the Central Line during rush hour to his shitty 9-5 office job.

Completely ordinary, apart from one thing. Yoongi had a gift. When Yoongi looked at somebody’s forehead he didn’t just see sweat, acne or a trendy, choppy fringe. He also saw something… else.

Lightly flickering, just above the gap between the eyebrows on everyone and anyone Yoongi saw was a number. He figured it must be on a convenient, neat 1-10 scale. Old people shuffling down the pavement usually scored a 1-2, 3 if they were the pushy, rude type.

Children the same. Male adults usually averaged higher than women, 4-7 mostly. Yoongi liked to avoid the 7s. Just in case

The particular Tuesday with which we pick up Min Yoongi’s story started out like no other. The alarm blared at 6 am and Yoongi snoozed it. And snoozed it again. At 6:27 he dragged himself into the shower and at 6:55 he was hunched over a bowl of that was more sugar than cereal.

By 7:27 Yoongi was waiting, bleary eyed at the tube station. At 7:33 Yoongi was squashed against 5 other bored looking commuters in neatly pressed suits, clinging desperately to handles on the train.

Yoongi gripped tightly to a pole and reached into his pocket for his phone. This morning’s ‘extreme’ sudoku was NOT going to get the better of him.

At 7:51am just as usual, Yoongi was running to work. He couldn’t afford to be late again. At 7:59 he scanned his ID on the gates and got into the lift to the office. Just as the doors were sliding shut, Park Jimin, Yoongi’s boss stuck his hand in the gap between the doors.

They opened and Jimin entered the lift. Yoongi gulped.

Jimin cleared his throat.
“Nice to see you’ve made it on time today,” he retorted.
“I’m working on it, I swear” Yoongi protested.
A purple 6 flickered in and out of view on Jimin’s forehead.
“No matter,” said Jimin. “I have a task for you.”

“What is it?” asked Yoongi. He felt himself grow nervous.
“We have a new intern,” said Jimin. “He will be with us for eight weeks. I need you to supervise him and bury him in busywork. Can you manage that?”
“O-of course.”
The lift dinged at their floor and the doors opened.

“Follow me,” said Jimin, gesturing at Yoongi.

Jimin brought Yoongi over to a boy standing awkwardly by a pot plant in the corner of the office. He was a head taller than Yoongi, easily, but easily looked 5 years younger. He had floppy brown hair, bright big eyes and a nervous smile.

But there was something Yoongi couldn’t tear his eyes away from.

The bold, black 10 on his forehead.

“Hi,” said the boy.
“I’m Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook.” He outstretched a tattooed hand.

“Nice to meet you.”

Min Yoongi was at a loss for words. The highest number he’d ever met was the 8 that used to live next door. A burly, angry and alcoholic man with a terrible temper. When it was time to put the bins out, Yoongi avoided him like a plague.

A 10? Here? Yoongi had thought that maybe the scale stopped at 8. Yoongi was afraid. Not just stranger-making-conversation-on-the-bus afraid. This was real, cold fear. He shivered.

“Yoongi, take care of Jungkook for me please. I’ve got a meeting.”
Just like that, Yoongi was left alone with Jungkook. His first 10.
Suck it up, Yoongi, he thought. He’s just a kid. Just because he has the potential to harm you does not mean he will. You’re in charge here!

“Come with me then,” said Yoongi. He’d lowered his voice an octave.
“Let’s find you a desk”

The first hour dragged for Yoongi. He couldn’t tear his eyes off of Jungkook, following him while he got coffees, just in case he put something other than sugar in them. Yoongi escorted Jungkook to the copy machine four separate times. He had to be sure no one would get hurt.

Yoongi was babysitting one of the most dangerous men in the world.

The only desk Yoongi could find for the intern was right next to him. As the day progressed Yoongi began to relax a little and the two began to exchange pleasant small talk.

Soon Yoongi had learned that Jungkook was 22, born and raised in Kent, three years into a four-year Economics course at LSE. He has an older brother and likes to sing in his spare time. No mention of casual murder, larceny, GBH or anything that was a cause for concern.

At 13:00 sharp it was time for Yoongi to take his lunch break. And with that came a decision? Should he take Jungkook? On the one hand, Yoongi liked the alone time he got in this precious break between the drab hours tip-tapping at his keyboard.

However, Yoongi wasn’t entirely comfortable leaving Jungkook alone yet.
He found Jungkook sat cross-legged on the floor filing away important documents and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Yes… uh, sir?” said Jungkook.
Yoongi was taken aback. He didn’t consider himself the intern’s boss.
“I’m just going to grab some lunch; would you like to join me?” said Yoongi.
Nice, he thought. Keep it professional.

Yoongi took Jungkook to his favourite café, just a short walk from the office. It was almost empty, smelling of fresh crusty bread and Italian roast. Just how Yoongi liked it. The barista was called Tom and Yoongi knew him well.

“The usual please, Joe,” said Yoongi. “And what do you want?”
“Huh?” said Jungkook.
“I’m buying. What do you want?”
Yoongi took pity on the unpaid intern and fought to tear his eyes away from the stark 10 that still rest between Jungkook’s neat eyebrows.

“Uh… caramel latte and a mozzarella and sundried tomato panini please”
Yoongi’s order. Interesting.
“Aight, coming up! I’ll bring it over when it’s ready,” said Tom.

Yoongi and Jungkook sat in the window table. Yoongi gazed out of the window, watching hundreds of businessmen like him hurry around with their briefcases and their polished shoes.
“Hey!” said Jungkook abruptly. “Aren’t you going to talk to me?”

Yoongi really didn’t want to. He had spoken to Jungkook all morning and just wanted a little peace and quiet while ensuring Jungkook didn’t get up to anything he shouldn’t.

“Sure…” said Yoongi apprehensively. “What do you want to talk about?”
He forced a smile and stared at Jungkook’s ear, while Jungkook’s 10 stared back at him.
“You. Tell me about you.”

“My name is Min Yoongi. I’m 27 years old. 5”8 and a half. The half is important. I love to play basketball.”
“Yawn!” retorted Jungkook. “With all due respect, boss, that’s not what I meant.”
Yoongi was taken aback by the intern’s sudden confidence. He was immediately suspicious.

“What do you mean?” said Yoongi, eyeing Jungkook sideways.
He kept his eyes firmly away from the 10.
“Ever done something you know you shouldn’t have? Something… bad?”

That cold, hard, brash feeling Yoongi had felt when he first laid eyes on Jungkook’s 10 was back but multiply it by a thousand. Yoongi trusted his gut and he knew this kid was bad news.

“Two caramel lattes two paninis!”
It was Tom with a tray of lunch. The smell of the coffee and the warm bread melted Yoongi’s anxiety. The cute barista was his saviour today. Jungkook, however, looked faintly irritated. They thanked Tom and ate and drank in silence.

Yoongi checked his watch. Ten minutes left of lunch.
“We better go,” said Yoongi, motioning for Jungkook to get up.
Jungkook finished the last of his latte and threw back on his suit jacket.

The walk back to the offices was also silent, Yoongi stepping fast and the lanky intern loping behind him. Yoongi felt an air of awkwardness but when he looked at Jungkook, he was smirking.

Back at the office, Yoongi left Jungkook with Tara, a co-worker slightly below his level. A nice girl, mid-twenties with long black hair and arched eyebrows which made strangers suspicious of her.

Yoongi settled in at his desk with a coffee and got to work, trusting Tara could handle the intern, especially if he had his faux-shy persona on.

At four on the dot, Yoongi went to collect Jungkook from Tara.
“Did he behave himself?” he asked her.
Tara laughed, but Yoongi wasn’t kidding.
“Yeah, he was a real help, great kid!”

“You’re done for the day,” Yoongi said to Jungkook. “Let me walk you out.”
They said goodbye to Tara and headed into the elevator.
As the doors closed Jungkook shot through the gap and called out to Yoongi.
“Forgot something on my desk see you tomorrow!”

Yoongi panicked at this. Jungkook alone in the office. He frantically pressed the open doors button, but it was too late. And, to make matters worse, while Yoongi wasn’t looking, Jungkook had pressed every single button.

When the doors opened, Yoongi got out of the lift and made a break for the stairs. He ran up what seemed like infinite stairs until he hit the right floor.

He pushed open the door and ran into the office.

What Yoongi saw next, he would never forget. His jaw dropped and he let go of his briefcase. Landing on its hinges, it spilled files and pens all over the floor.

Jungkook was standing over Tara, who was lying on the floor, mouth agape.
Yoongi looked for a rise and fall in her chest. It wasn’t there.

“Hey boss,”

“I can explain,”

“I swear!”

Yoongi turned away and threw up into a wastepaper bin.
Jungkook patted him reassuringly on the back. Yoongi immediately brushed him off, disgusted.
Yoongi wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and straightened up.

He couldn’t look at Jungkook and he definitely couldn’t look at Tara, so he focussed his eyes on paper clip lying on the floor.
What the hell was Yoongi going to do now?

“Boss… say something. Please.”
Yoongi didn’t say anything.

“Look. You haven’t called the police yet. I don’t think you will. You want to help me.”
Yoongi still could not bring himself to speak.

“I’m...” started Yoongi.
“-Going to help me?” finished Jungkook.
“W-why sh-should I help you?” said Yoongi. He was shaking.

“Because you want, of course!” responded the intern.
And he was right. Yoongi did want to help him.

“What first?” asked Yoongi.
“Well, we have three main problems. The cameras in the lobby and our key cards, both placing us here, now. The second, the body. Finally, if the second isn’t executed well, we need to create a trail. A reason for Tara to disappear. You got that?”

Yoongi was ghostly pale and shaking all over, but he nodded.
"Then let's get to work!" exclaimed the intern.
He walked over to call the lift. Yoongi followed.

The lift shuddered and rose a few floors, making Yoongi feel deeply nauseated. He felt the weight of his phone in his pocket and asked himself why he wasn’t phoning the police. He didn’t have an answer.
Jungkook was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, one leg up behind him.

Nonchalant, calm, cocky even. He caught Yoongi’s eye and winked.
This was a game to him.

The lift doors slide open and Jungkook walked out first, Yoongi following.
“Right,” said Jungkook. “Security is inside this door to my right.”
How could he possibly know that? Yoongi added confusion to the list of negative emotions he was feeling at that moment.

“I’m going to wipe all the footage from the last hour or so. To do that, I need you to walk, strike up some conversation with the two security guards and draw them out. Do you think you can do that?”
Yoongi nodded without meaning to. Or had he wanted to? He wasn’t sure anymore.

Yoongi stepped forward and knocked on the door. Jungkook disappeared around the corner. The door swung open and Yoongi was greeted by the faintly annoyed face of a white middle-aged man with unruly eyebrows and a 5 o’clock shadow.
“Can I help you?” he grunted.

“Uhhhhhhhh…….”
“Leonard, who is it?”
The other security guard got out of her chair and joined the first in the doorway.

“I need your help!” Yoongi said. “I saw somebody dressed in all black run up the stairs. You have to go check!”
He sounded desperate.
“That’s odd,” said the woman. “I didn’t see anything on the cameras….”

“I’ll go check it out. You stay here,” responded Leonard.
“No!” said Yoongi loudly, startling even himself.
“You both have to go; I think they were armed.”
“Fine, if you’re sure. Stay here and don’t touch anything,” said the woman.

The two bolted out the door toward the stairs, leaving Yoongi alone. Jungkook emerged from round the corner and walked into the security room. He flashed Yoongi a quick thumbs-up, eyes glittering mischievously. To Yoongi, it looked like Jungkook’s 10 was lighting up too.

Yoongi forced his eyes to the floor.

Yoongi was not relaxed. He kept avoiding eye contact with the intern and considered his options. He could phone the police right now. Slight problem, he was stuck in a very small room with a killer. He could make a break for it, but Yoongi knew he couldn’t outrun Jungkook.

And to make matters worse, if the police caught the two now, Yoongi was an accomplice. He knew his only option was to endure this long evening, and help the intern wherever he could.

“Hey, could you keep watch? And let me know if the guards are coming?”
“What are you going to do if they do come back?” asked Yoongi.
“I’ll deal with them,” said Jungkook, nonchalant.
Yoongi didn’t know how to respond to this, and shuffled to the door.

Yoongi spent what, to him, felt like hours staring into the dull, empty corridor, daydreaming about what he would be doing at home if he wasn’t covering up a murder. He missed his animal crossing village and his sofa. And not being a criminal. He just wished-

“Hey, I’m done! First one of the three checked off the to-do list!”
Yoongi jumped.
“Let’s go!”
Jungkook took off down the corridor, tie flapping, hair scruffy.
Yoongi broke into a jog and followed him.

Back in the lift, for the first time in a while, Yoongi was the first to speak.
“What now, huh? What do we do with- with you know?”
“With the body, you mean?” retorted Jungkook, like he thought it was ridiculous Yoongi didn’t want to say it.

“I thought I’d leave that one up to you.”
“Do you honestly think I’d know what to do with a- you know?” said Yoongi.
“Well, it’s clear to me,” said Jungkook. “That there are two options.”

“We fake a suicide, or we move her. What do you want to do?”

Yoongi thought for a moment. This wasn’t exactly a question he wanted to answer. He pushed any emotion to the back of his brain to focus on pure, cold logic. If they moved the body, they would have to get her out of the building somehow.

Taking Tara on the lift and out the front reception, past the security guard was an impossibility. As was two men moving a 60kg woman out on the fire escape without passers-by seeing.

“Well? What’ll it be?”
Yoongi sighed.
“I don’t know.”

“Answer my question or I’ll leave you here with her.”
“Suicide,” said Yoongi quietly.
“The right choice! You’ve a knack for this already! Let’s get going.”

The lift opened on the floor of the office where they’d left Tara. Jungkook walked up to her, turned around and noticed a distinct lack of Yoongi. He ran back to the lift where Yoongi was still stood, motionless.
“Suck it up, let’s go!”
“I can’t I- I can’t go back in there.”

Jungkook sighed, grabbed Yoongi’s arm and dragged him into the office.

“Ok step one the note. Have a look on her desk for anything with her handwriting on it.”
Yoongi rifled through the possessions of his once kind, once living colleague until he found an old scrunched up sticky note with a shopping list on it.
“Will this do?”

“Perfect, I can copy the handwriting. Time to sell something convincing. Any personal details I can add to this to make it convincing? It needs to be good enough to prevent the police from launching a murder investigation”
Yoongi thought for a moment.

“Her divorce? I think I overheard her mention a divorce. She sounded pretty upset. Can you use that?”
“Did you get her ex’s name?”
“No…don’t think so.”
“I’ll just use my love or something. I can make it work. Gimme a moment,” said Jungkook, scribbling on a ream of printer paper.

“And... done!”
Jungkook thrust a completed suicide note at Yoongi. A completed tale of heartbreak and woe complete with fake tear stains and Tara’s exact writing. He hated that Jungkook had done a perfect job.

“What now?” said Yoongi. “I just want to go home”
“We fake her jump.”
“WHAT?”
“The trauma on her skull… needs to be hidden. I have to drop her out of the window and onto her head. And you’ll have to help me”

Yoongi could think of many things he’d rather do than help Jungkook carry Tara to the window and throw her out. But he was stuck now, trapped in the crime he’d become an accomplice to.
“Remember, you want to help me,” said Jungkook. “Now grab her feet.”

Jungkook put his hands under the girl’s arms and Yoongi lifted at her ankles.
“Carry her to the window at the back, it’s quieter round that side of the building. Less chance of any pedestrians seeing us,” said Yoongi.
Jungkook smiled and nodded.

Slowly the pair carried her to the window.
“On three, we’ll hoist her up to the edge and drop her from her feet. Let’s hope like hell she lands on her head.”
They put Tara on her stomach on the window ledge. Yoongi looked down and saw an empty street. That was a small win, right?

Yoongi grabbed the right foot, Jungkook the left and they dangled the body out of the window.
“Three, two, one!”
Tara fell and the pair quickly retreated from the window.
“Nice!” said Jungkook. Let’s get out of here before someone finds her.

Jungkook turned around just in time to watch Yoongi pass out and hit the carpet with a thud.

this thread is getting rly long and hard to navigate so P2 is here! https://twitter.com/ryujinsbaby/status/1259555267487956997?s=20

https://twitter.com/ryujinsbaby/status/1259555267487956997?s=20

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