Agent of Destruction

Taehyung watched Namjoon as he paced their dressing room and once again tried to divine the meaning behind his tense expression.

“Tae?”

“Mm.”

“We've still got some time before our last interview,” Jimin said, sitting beside him. “Penny for your thoughts?”

Taehyung raised his eyebrows. “I'm not sure they're worth that much,” he muttered.

“Come on, we could always talk,” Jimin prodded, then he glanced over at Namjoon. “All of us could always talk,” he whispered.

“Don't,” Taehyung warned. “I've spent every spare moment trying to figure out what's going on inside his head, but now I'm thinking maybe we'll never actually get to know.”

“Did you try asking?” Jimin asked.

Taehyung finally tore his eyes away from Namjoon to give Jimin a look. “Asking? What would I even ask?”

Jimin shrugged. “Look, I'm not saying you'll get anywhere, but at least you could say you tried.”

Taehyung took a deep breath, then the door opened and Yoongi and Jungkook came in, both grave and silent as they found seats near Jimin.

“Where are the others?” Namjoon asked.

“Coming,” Yoongi said tersely.

The door opened again and Hoseok and Jin came in, followed closely by Sejin. “The crew’s had a slight delay setting up, so we'll be starting about fifteen minutes late,” Sejin announced.

No one complained, but that was more due to exhaustion than anything else.

Sejin turned to leave, then paused. “I just want to say, the other managers and I… we've noticed how hard you've all been working to keep up with the new schedules,” he said.

“There… there was talk about slowing down soon?” Jungkook said hopefully.

He must be really desperate to say something, Taehyung mused.

“Possibly,” Sejin acknowledged, “after we leave the States. You'll know more after your show.” He left the room quickly, but Taehyung saw him exchange a look with Namjoon before he left. There it is again! Taehyung wanted to shout. What is going on?!

“Tae, are you okay?” Jin asked anxiously. “You look like your stomach hurts.”

Everyone was looking at him now and he quickly relaxed. “I'm fine, I was just thinking really hard,” he said, summoning a smile.

“Must have been pretty intense thinking to look like that,” Hoseok commented.

Taehyung locked eyes with Namjoon and instantly each man saw the torment the other was enduring.

“Guess we know what you were thinking about,” Yoongi murmured, glancing between them.

A film of tears glistened in Namjoon’s eyes and he left the room without a word. “Wait!” Taehyung called, chasing after him.

Namjoon was already near the end of the hallway and was dabbing his cheeks with his sleeve as Taehyung caught up to him. “Why won't you just tell us what's happening?” he pleaded. “This is more than the tour or the schedules, it's something worse and for some reason you're choosing to suffer alone. Don't you realize how much you're scaring us?”

Namjoon sniffed loudly. “I… I can't tell you,” he whispered. “I can't ever tell you or anyone else.”

“There’s nothing you could say that would drive me away,” Taehyung said. “You can yell, curse, even beat me up and I'm still gonna be right here.”

Namjoon didn't reply and Taehyung stared at his shoes while he collected himself. “I know we've all been pretty awful lately,” he said, “but that doesn't mean we aren't gonna stick by you. I just wish you trusted us more.”

He turned and left Namjoon standing alone in the hallway, but he didn't go back to the dressing room. He had been crying without even realizing it, so he ducked into the men's room to calm down.

He moistened a paper towel and began dabbing away the dark brown streaks where his eye makeup had run, but he was soon crying again and he threw the towel away in defeat. It was like a deep well of emotions had finally risen to the surface, and he sank to the floor and sobbed.


******


Namjoon left almost immediately after the interview ended, but no one so much as glanced at him as he slipped out. Maybe they stopped caring, he thought, but he didn't have time to think about it now. He was due at the Crescent Moon in forty-five minutes and still needed to rendezvous with the agents at their motel, so Namjoon took a cab straight there and grimaced as he entered the disgusting motel room. “This is worse than before,” he commented.

“Well, Porter's not exactly Mary Poppins when it comes to tidying,” O’Hare said teasingly.

“This isn't a time for jokes, O’Hare,” Porter snapped, laying a bag on the table. He pulled out a small box that held a silver chain and pendant. “Microphone is in the pendant,” Porter explained. “Put this on and give me your watch.”

“My watch?” Namjoon echoed, picking up the necklace.

“We have to trade it for one of ours,” O'Hare explained. “There's a button on the watch that turns the transmitter on and off. If they scan you, you can shut it down and keep your cover.”

“But if it's off longer than thirty seconds, we're gonna assume you're in trouble and come in guns blazing, so don't forget to turn it back on,” Porter reminded him.

Namjoon slipped the chain over his head and nestled in among the two he already wore. It looked innocent enough, even safe. Maybe this will actually work, he thought hopefully.

After trading his watch for theirs and locating the button Namjoon took a deep breath. “Anything else?” he asked.

“We've got several agents undercover as staff, but they're under strict orders not to engage with you unless you're in immediate danger,” Porter said. “We can't give you an earpiece, so when we've got enough evidence someone will ask if you want a Manhattan. It's important that you don't leave immediately, but don't stay past one a.m.”

Namjoon's head was spinning, but he nodded anyway. “Agents, Manhattan, leave before one.”

“Here,” O’Hare said, handing him a wad of cash, “for the dancers. Don't be stingy.”

Namjoon took the money and wedged it into his pocket. “What if something goes wrong?”

“All of the agents are wearing watches like yours. If you're in trouble, press the button three times and an alert will be sent to them.”

Assuming I have time to press the button, Namjoon thought.

“How are your friends holding up?” O’Hare asked as he put Namjoon's watch away.

“They're holding, I think,” he said, “but I'll be glad to be done with this. Even with all the precautions it's still taken a huge toll on them.”

O’Hare nodded. “Happens to all of our loved ones,” he said, “except for Porter who doesn't have any.”

Porter didn't respond to the jibe and opened a laptop. “Test the button,” he ordered.

Namjoon did and he nodded. “It's working fine. Just keep your head and be smart.”

They let Namjoon leave the motel first, but he knew they would be close behind him every step of the way. Keep your head and be smart, he kept repeating to himself.

He climbed into the car and tried to relax.

“Where to, sir?”

“The Crescent Moon,” Namjoon replied, adopting what he hoped was a more commanding demeanor.

Like all establishments on the Strip, the Crescent Moon was a mass of gaudy colors and flashing lights, all presided over by a giant fingernail moon that rotated on a pedestal. There was a line down the sidewalk outside the club, but as Namjoon's car pulled up he found himself more focused on the bouncer by the door. Keep your head and be smart, he repeated as he got out.

He approached the door and the bouncer seemed to recognize him. “Come in, Mr. Kim,” he said, unclipping the velvet rope to allow him access.

“Thank you,” he replied, and he entered the club.


******


Jin folded his arms and tried to think as he stared at Namjoon's unoccupied bed. Missing again, and not a word of explanation from anyone, he thought. Something is off about this.

The door opened and Hoseok poked his head in. “He's not here, is he?” he groaned.

Jin shook his head. “How much more of this are the managers going to take?” he wondered aloud.

“It looks to me like the managers don't really care,” Hoseok replied, closing the door behind him.

A crumpled piece of paper on the floor caught Jin’s eye and he picked it up.

“It's not like Namjoon to leave trash on the floor,” Hoseok said thoughtfully.

Jin opened it and smoothed it out on his leg.
“Jin, that's not-”

“Don't you think we deserve some answers at this point?” Jin demanded.

Hoseok sighed. “What does it say?”

They both leaned over it and tried to make out the faint penciled letters. “It's in English,” Hoseok realized.

“That word is the,” Jin said, pointing, “but I'm not sure what the other ones are.”

They stared at it for another minute, then Hoseok brightened. “Let's take it to Taehyung!” he said. “He can figure it out.”

“I don't know if-”

“Look, if we're gonna snoop, we may as well snoop together, right?” he pleaded.

Jin thought his logic was dubious, but shrugged anyway. “It's not like we have a choice, I guess,” he murmured.

They left the room and jogged down the hallway to Taehyung and Jimin’s suite. “Tae, you in there?” Hoseok called, knocking on the door.

Jimin opened the door, holding an earbud in one hand. “He's in the shower,” he said, beckoning them inside. “Shouldn't you both be-”

“We found something,” Hoseok interrupted, “in Namjoon's room.”

Jimin was immediately wary. “Found what?” he asked.

“This,” Jin said, holding up the paper, “but whatever's written on it is in English.”

Jimin held out his hand and Jin surrendered the paper. “It looks like he tried to erase the letters before crumpling it up,” he said, squinting at the paper.

“Crumpling what up?” Taehyung asked, coming out of the bathroom. He was drying his hair with a towel, but stopped when he saw Jin and Hoseok. “Are we having a party?” he quipped.

“Look at this,” Jimin said, handing him the paper.

“We found it in Namjoon's room,” Jin admitted. “Can you read it?”

Taehyung raised an eyebrow, but studied the paper anyway. “It's in English,” he realized, and he held the paper closer to his eyes for several seconds.

“Well?” Hoseok blurted out, unable to wait any longer.

Taehyung held up a finger. “The… Crescent Moon,” he read slowly.

“That's it?” Jimin exclaimed, crestfallen.

Taehyung turned the paper over, then nodded. “That's it.”

Jin frowned. “Why would Namjoon bother to write that down, then erase it and throw it away?” he wondered.

“Maybe it means something,” Jimin offered.

There was a knock at the door and Taehyung answered this time, still rubbing his head with the towel.

“So this is where everyone is!” Yoongi exclaimed, Jungkook hovering over his shoulder like a bodyguard.

“Join the party,” Taehyung said, letting them in.

“Does The Crescent Moon mean anything to either of you?” Hoseok asked.

Jungkook closed the door behind him. “That's a weird thing to ask,” he commented.

“Why?” Yoongi asked.

“We found it written on a piece of paper in Namjoon's room,” Jin explained. “It looked like he tried to throw it away, so we thought- ”

“Could it be code for something?” Taehyung guessed, “like a person, or a place?”

Yoongi gave a start, then pulled out his phone. “A place,” he murmured, rapidly typing something into the search bar.

“Yoongi-”

“What about this?” he asked, showing everyone his screen. It was a picture of a Vegas nightclub, and it had a crescent moon sign above the building.

“Why would Namjoon care about some club?” Jimin wondered.

“More importantly, why would he go without us?!” Taehyung exclaimed. “He knows I was wanting to go out while we were here.”

“You don't think this could be…” Jungkook hesitated. “I don't know, something bad?”

“What, like he's partying or something?” Hoseok prodded.

Jin wanted to dismiss it, but he remembered Namjoon's bender in Miami and frowned. “Anything's possible at this point,” he muttered.

“So now what?” Jimin asked.

“Isn't it obvious?” Yoongi said. “Now we go down there and figure out what's going on.”

All of them made a sound of shocked surprise except for Taehyung. “Sounds like a plan, Slug,” he said, already pulling out clothes from the closet.

“We… we can't just leave the hotel!” Hoseok sputtered.

“Why not?” Yoongi countered. “If Namjoon can do it, why can't we?”

Hoseok gave Jin a pleading look and Jin sighed. “Look Hobi, I understand what you're saying, but I agree with Yoongi. We have to figure out what's going on.”

“But we don't even know for sure if he's there,” Jimin said. “Think about how much trouble we'd be in!”

“The way I see it, we deserve a night out,” Taehyung announced as he pulled on his pants. “Even if we don't find him, we can still have a good time.”

“I'm in,” Jungkook said immediately, “but only if we all go.”

Hoseok had his arms folded stubbornly, while Jimin seemed unsure. We have to do this, Jin realized. “I'm in,” he announced, joining Jungkook and Yoongi.

Jimin looked at Hoseok. “Maybe we should go,” he murmured. “It's better than staying here and worrying about them.”

He stepped over beside Jin and Hoseok sighed. “Fine,” he said, joining them, “but I've been coerced into this.”

“Great!” Taehyung said, buttoning his shirt and grabbing his jacket. “Let's have some fun!”


******


Namjoon stepped into the club and automatically winced as a wall of sound hit him like a fist. It was the loudest nightclub he'd ever been to, and the subwoofers in every corner shook the building with their bass. Namjoon fought the urge to plug his ears and examined the room. The dance floor was massive and packed to bursting with drunk patrons, all dancing and grinding against each other while a deejay fueled their frenzy from a balcony box high above them. The lights pulsed blue and purple, while strobes flashed intermittently to the beat of the music. I'm gonna be deaf before the night’s out, Namjoon thought grimly.

A handsome man in a grey suit approached him and gestured for him to follow, so Namjoon steeled himself and they began making their way through the room, avoiding dancers and the booming speakers. Finally they went through a set of doors and the music dulled to a rhythmic groove, like they were listening to it from the bottom of a pool.

“Welcome, Mr. Kim,” said the man respectfully. He was American and had bright orange hair that was oiled and combed back from his face. It almost looked dyed, but his freckled skin and pale eyelashes suggested it was real. “My name is Taylor,” he offered.

Namjoon adopted a more careless expression. “I was under the impression that Mr. Song would be here,” he said.

“Mr. Song is momentarily occupied, but I've been instructed to see to your comfort,” Taylor replied without missing a beat. “If you'll come through, sir.”

He gestured for Namjoon to proceed him through another door, and he found himself in a luxurious private room. It had been painted a rich shade of midnight blue and hung with silvery gray curtains, while low chairs surrounded a small stage in the middle of the room. The far wall was glass and showed the frenzied dance floor outside, and Namjoon suspected it was disguised like the mural at the Sunset Room.

“Can I get you anything, food, drinks?” Taylor asked, adjusting the lights to a dim glow.

“Vodka martini,” Namjoon replied, settling into the central chair. He crossed his legs and tried to appear totally comfortable, though his breathing was becoming shaky.

“Very good, sir,” Taylor said smoothly. “Mr. Song will be with you shortly.”

He left the room and Namjoon exhaled loudly. Just a few more hours and this will all be over, he reminded himself. Just keep your head and be smart.

Notes