1 A New World Without Them

Taehyung groaned. His head felt like it was splitting open, a throbbing pain in his temple.

Groggily, he opened his eyes and threw an arm over to shield him from the morning sun.

What time was it?

"Hoseok…" he called out huskily. He coughed lightly, his throat parched and uncomfortably dry.

"Seok, answer me-"

There was no answer.

Taehyung reluctantly opened his eyes once more, and looked around, narrowing them in confusion. Yesterday, he had gone to sleep in a double room with Hoseok sleeping on the bed next to him. He'd even flung a few pillows at Hoseok, laughing when Hoseok became buried under the mountain of pillows he'd built up.

But this wasn't that room.

Soft sunlight streamed in from the floor length windows on the right side. Through the window, Taehyung could see a balcony overlooking the towering skyscrapers of New York. In the distance, he saw the greenery of Central Park.

The room was a massive suite, coloured with warm shades of brown and gold. The bedroom was elevated, a sliding screen separating it from the living room. Soft, thick mocha carpet covered the bedroom floor.

A digital clock on the bedside table read: 7:56AM, its neon orange letters unmistakably bright.

There were several bookshelves and a desk in the corner of the bedroom, and another door that he presumed led to the bathroom. From here, he could see partially through to the living room, equally decorated with the same colour palette of brown and gold, and equally as spacious as the bedroom.

Maybe his memories were wrong, and they each had a room to themselves this time round. Hoseok was probably just in his own room, nearby.

But Taehyung distinctly remembered saying goodnight to Hoseok, he remembered how each of them fought for rooms even though they could easily each have a room by themselves. It was less lonely that way.

His brows furrowed. Was this a joke?

He shook his head. That would be quite unlikely. The pranks that usually happened were jumping on his bed at 4AM in the morning, and that was Jungkook's specialty.

Besides, they were on tour. Not the best time to pull a prank that involved someone's precious beauty sleep. Everyday was busy and hectic, so much that sometimes they didn't even have time to eat properly.

Rolling out of bed, he rubbed at his eyes and went into the bathroom.

Soft white marble surrounded him. A large glass shower stood in one side, and a spa in another, overlooking the city view. He headed straight for the sink, the counter made out of marble and decorated with gold fixings.

Using one of the hotel's white towels, he scrubbed at his face until he looked presentable and brushed his teeth.

Inside the closet, he chose a simple outfit—white shirt and black jeans.

Taehyung's tense shoulders dropped slightly as he took slow and deep breaths.

Time to look for everyone else.

He padded lightly through the room, taking notice of every small detail. The living room had floor length windows with the morning sun streaming in, lighting up the whole room in a soft glow. The light coloured wooden floor gave a sense of warmth and comfort.

Peeking his head out, he looked around for any other doors. As he moved out into the doorway, he noticed that the room he was in was #613. He crept up to the closest door, which was #612 and banged on the door, waiting for a reply.

After a while, the door opened to reveal a tired looking business man dressed in a sharp-looking black suit.

With a yawn, he looked blearily at Taehyung, giving him a once-over. "What is it? I'm busy."

Taehyung felt his cheeks flush; he had the wrong room. Bowing slightly, he apologised in broken English, his accent showing.

"I'm so sorry."

The man chuckled lightly and closed the door.

Taehyung stared at the closed door. Usually, the company would room everyone as close as possible, but this could easily be a one-off.

He went to the next door, #611, feeling a little better, and knocked on the door.

The door slammed open. An old lady dressed in her nightgown, several rollers in her hair, shook her fist angrily at him.

"Don't just knock on others doors for the fun of it!" She yelled, her wrinkly face jiggling with every shake of her fist.

The door closed with a bang before Taehyung could even apologise.

#610 was empty. The door wasn't even locked, and Taehyung peeked inside for a minute before heading back out. The room was spotless, no sign of anyone staying there.

He decided to go in the other direction.

#614 had a couple, the woman winking at Taehyung briefly. The man glared at Taehyung hotly before closing the door.

Taehyung's stomach was rolling, his pace increasing as he jogged to #615.

Empty.

#616.

A family, the children glancing at Taehyung with naive curiosity apparent in their eyes.

He checked every room from #607 to #620, and couldn't find anyone. No Namjoon, no Hoseok, no Jungkook, none of the other members.

Where were they then? Did they leave him behind?

Taehyung wondered, his eyes darting around, lingering on each door. The hallway seemed to close in upon him, the closed doors mocking him.

All of a sudden, Taehyung remembered that he always brought his phone with him. Relief washed over him. He raced back to his room and flung open the door, jumping onto the bed.

He reached under the pillow for his phone, where he usually kept it.

He scrolled through his contact list, looking for their numbers.

In no time, Taehyung finished the list.

Nothing.

He scrolled through it again, taking the time to read each contact carefully.

Still nothing.

Did they delete his contacts? He quickly dialed in Namjoon's number, pacing around his room. It felt like his heart was inside his mouth, the bout of anxiety leaving him trembling.

The phone rang twice. Taehyung's heart leapt up in joy when someone picked up.

"Namjoon! Where are you guys—"

A cold automated response greeted him. An icy cold wave washed over Taehyung as he froze in place.

"Sorry, but the number you have dialed does not exist."

What?

Taehyung hung up, his fingers trembling as he dialed in Hoseok's number.

He hung up as soon as the automated response began playing again.

This wasn't right.

Dread crept up his veins, from his fingertips all the way to his toes. He tried to shake it off, but to no avail. The cold, clammy feeling surrounded him, sticking, refusing to go away.

The members frequently changed their phone numbers. He probably dialed one of their previous numbers.

That was all.

His breath hitched as he hurriedly opened his KaKaoTalk app, trying to find his messages with the other members.

Instead, he only found someone nicknamed 'Manager', a few different idols from other groups, the members from TXT, and a couple dozen unknowns, which he quickly deleted and blocked with almost unerring accuracy.

Taehyung opened his messages with Soobin, one of the TXT members.

His fingers flew across the keyboard.

[hve u seen namjoon? or kookie?]