Who else, if not them?

New York, 2018

             No one knows for sure how it really happened…              Who met whom in the first place and how two people from a completely different worlds suddenly became each other’s entire universe.              They say those two men first crossed their paths in the South Bronx, not far from the spot where an old Sam once got his gut split open. Oh, what a fuss that story caused back then! And many people avoided the area, though everyone knew how rumors tended to grow wild with a made-up details. But that’s not the point. Somehow, it all went down in a Mott Haven, at the intersection of a two nine-story buildings named "Choco-Moco"—which, in terms of a factual accuracy, sounds pretty surreal. But there are no other versions of the story.              That day, none of the Southies gang expected things to take such a turn. Least of all Jeon Jungkook, who’d only been let into the crew because his older brother vouched for him. The kid had a temper, and the older he got, the harder he was to control.              He was hotheaded and forever craving for a justice to the measure that no one in these parts had ever even heard of. This was the kind of neighborhood where you could get killed for a pack of a cigarettes and a can of beer, and if you went missing, no one would come looking for you. That’s why the boys always moved in a big groups, because safety is in the numbers. And if you had to cross into the rival territory, you’d better have a metal sheet tucked under your hoodie, pressed tight against your stomach, and never turn your back on an enemy, if you wanted to walk away in one piece.              Now then, that Korean kid—who have just turned eighteen—never showed his face. Either he wore deep-brimmed bucket hats and high-collared clothes or was hiding under a hood and a shabby gray scarf, its loose threads sticking out like a question marks. There were plenty of rumors about Jungkook: that he hid his face because it had been cut as a kid, leaving a massive scar on his right (or left?) cheek. But no one knew for sure, and the Southies weren’t the talking type—they’d just tell the nosy people to fuck off in the well-known way.              From the outside, these gangs seemed almost… romantic. Plenty of the girls secretly sighed over the bad boys who sent shivers down their spines. But no one knew the real truth—the kind that made your hair stand on end and your skin crawl. The rules here were brutal. You screw up, and you wouldn’t just get your ass kicked—you’d be exiled in a disgrace, branded for life.       They say Jungkook had begged to join the Southies for a long time and went through the hell to prove himself. His brother wasn’t a leader because is too soft for this, but also is too smart to be cast aside. Those kinds of guys like him were always useful. And Hoseok never wanted Jungkookto be mixed up in all this, but after a few brutal clashes with a rival crews left him battered, he had no choice but to give in.              But those were just rumors. What is the truth? Only the Southies knew, and they still weren’t a talking type of the people.              And then came that day… Though, was it really unlucky? Maybe *fateful* is the better word.              The Southies were rolling deep into the enemy turf—something about the Mad Dogs trashing a store on their block, or some other spat. Either way, they were passing those infamous buildings when the fight broke out right at the Choco-Moco.              It was quite epic. Like something out of a movie—two gangs clashing, then blood, screams, and the wail of the police sirens. That’s exactly how it ended… with a one small exception.              In a deserted alley where only rats dared poke their noses out of a dumpsters at this hour, a guy in headphones with a saxophone strapped to his back was hurrying home. Oblivious, he just wanted to get back before things got dangerous.              He probably didn’t even hear the chaos until it was too late. When he saw the crowd ahead - it was pointless to start running away,. Frozen in terror, he pressed himself against the dark brick wall, certain his life was about to end right there.              (Though there’s another version: that he fought like a damn ninja and helped the Southies win. But that’s a pure fantasy. One look at him, and you’d know—he didn’t belong here. So how the hell did he end up in the middle of a gang war?)              Somehow, though, he walked away with the Southies unharmed, but scared as hell. Why’d they take him? It`s simple: he’d just witnessed a murder. Little Gypsy had punched some big guy as if it was a fatality from the Mortal Kombat, and the guy dropped, cracking his skull on the curb.              The blood pooled into a small lake, and the saxophonist just stood there, totally hypnotized, watching the life draining from the body. He might’ve stayed rooted there forever if someone hadn’t grabbed his arm and told to run away immediately.              The self-preservation kicked in.              He kept up just fine, though the sax on his back kept smacking his head and swinging wildly. Still, he knew they’d done him a favor: if he’d stayed, he’d be dead.              There is a rumor that Jungkook got chewed out for this stunt. When the Southies slipped into their hideout which was an abandoned garage they’d used for three years, they didn’t even notice the stranger, at first. But when they did? It was a great chaos. Shouting, cursing, fingers pointed at Jungkook, who stood like a damn shield in front of the scrawny musician and refused to budge. What was his defense? The fact that you can`t leave witnesses.              Once the uproar died down and the disgruntled scattered, Jeongguk was called behind the curtain.              Plenty of stories circulate about what happened next, but again they are just a rumors. The Southies’ leader, Cody, was a tall black guy with a razor-sharp gaze and zero patience for the weakness. (It`s understandable, because soft men don’t lead gangs.) Even his own crew feared him. They respected him, for sure, but pissing their pants when he summoned someone behind that curtain.              Jungkook gave a curt nod and was about to follow Cody, then suddenly turned back with a sharp glare at the stranger. A gray checkered blazer, a light blue sweater, and skinny indigo jeans—dressed like that in the Bronx, he might as well have been wearing a suicide note. But Jungkook stared only on the big, doe-brown eyes which were peeking through the wavy strands of a thick bangs, and seeing something there, something only Jungkook understood—he gruffly told his brother to keep the stranger safe until he got back.              No one knows exactly what happened between the Southies’ leader and the Faceless Jungkook behind that curtain. But when they emerged an hour (maybe more) later, there wasn’t a single new scratch on him—just the ones from the brawl at the Choco-Moco. After that, the crew looked at him differently, with the respect. Because bargaining with Cody was an art, and Jungkook? He’d aced it.              Though not everyone liked the outcome. Especially not the guy with the sax still strapped to his back, who looked like he’d been hit by a truck. But the details aside, Jungkook had vouched for him, a complete stranger. Even proposed the impossible: to stay in the gang. What arguments he’d used, why Cody agreed is still a mystery. But no one dared question the boss’s call. Not even the musician himself who is now frantically calculating how to dig himself out of this hellhole.              There is a rumor that Jungkook walked him home that night and didn`t come back to the garage. Later, he brushed it off saying that it is easier to escort the weirdo than worry about the Mad Dogs hunting him down. It was somewhat casual. with a little bravado. But his dark eyes darted, showing his worries which Hoseok didn’t miss. By the time the older brother pieced it together, it was too late.              From then on, the kid, Kim Taehyung, as it turned out—came and went with Jungkook. Jungkook would grumble that he just couldn`t let this guy walk alone. But again what was the truth?              It was right there.              It was blatant.              Like when you look at someone and then bam. Just a “bam”. An inexplicable thing occurred within a split-second. Jungkook chalked it up to a witchcraft or a curse. Because from that day on, this damn him Taehyung, haunted him. Day and night. At first, he genuinely believed he just wanted to protect him. Learned that first night, on the walk home, that the Kim family used to live somewhere safe—until his father got tangled with a bad people, ended up dead and left his wife and a son drowning in debt. Forced to relocate to where the rent was cheap, Taehyung still commuted to a Manhattan’s Koreatown for studying at school. And he was so…bright. So disarmingly warm that something in Jungkook’s hardened chest clicked. He ignored it and that`s was his biggest mistake.              Taehyung’s mom planned to tough it out until he graduated, then flee the city. The problem was, she’d never worked a day in her life. Dropping out was definitely not an option—Taehyung was the top of his class and the principal had even let them pay the tuition in installments.              Then there was the saxophone classes as well.              The music was his oxygen. He’d trek hours to lessons, coming home after dark. But after that fateful day, a new routine emerged: at the bus stop, the Faceless, would be waiting for him standing in a black cargos, combat boots, bomber jacket, and that bucket hat casting his face in a permanent shadow.              Witnesses said the contrast was jarring. They didn’t look like a friends. More like a bodyguard and his charge. Jungkook played it cool, but if the bus ran late? He’d walk in circles and smoke fussily. Then he would spit in a frustration after ten minutes and text only three words: "Are you close?"              And what Taehyung? He’d reply with a longreads and a plenty of emojis. Sometimes were the voice messages—especially on a bumpy rides when typing made him carsick. And Jungkook reacted? He’d listen to those velvet tones, that quiet laughter, holding his breath and denying the obvious.              Where’d these details come from? Nobody remembers now.              Some things defy logic. This story is one of them. Taehyung would step off the bus, scan the platform, and look for Jungkook. When he would find the Faceless something in Taehyung`s gaze would ignite differently..              Something pure, radiant, maybe a joy.              So crystal clear.              And the Faceless? He’d scowl for a show, but he was already addicted to the hugs which Taehyung would force on him, no matter how much Jungkook grumbled about the fact that people were watching them.              Taehyung was handsome as hell.              That part is definitely not a rumor.              Even the Southies who hated his chatterbox tendencies admitted it. They called him a Princess. Not that he minded (not like they asked him), but he’d pretend it didn’t fit. Yet after he arrived, the sunlight seemed to seep into the gang’s cracks. Even Cody treated him differently. And when Taehyung brought his sax and played for them? The crew’s eyes gleamed with the awe. But Taehyung only watched Jungkook, so intensely that it unnerved him—especially the thoughts that crept in watching those slightly full lips wrap around the reed. He’d glare at the floor, furious with himself, then glance up and drown in this abyss all over again.              Eventually, the jokes started. But every joke holds a part of the truth, right? The way they orbited each other, this electric tension which the crew razzed them to diffuse it. Jungkook would flip them off or throw punches (he boxed like a demon, could drop a guy with a one hand). Taehyung? He never defended himself. Or maybe he just didn’t want to.              But since when did crushes bloom in a gang like this? They’d be laughed out, beaten out, and exiled.              Everyone knew it. So no one dared acknowledge whatever bound those two shared. When did it happen? No one knows. But if the truth come out? The Southies would’ve short-circuited.              They say the first kiss happened near Christmas, on the stairwell between the third and the fourth floors. It was unexpected, but inevitable, like a train that no one could stop. Junkook probably never imagined this, thought he’d end up with a some girl. But fate handed him the Princess instead.       Taehyung had a softness to him, not weakness, but the grace. He never pushed, never asked. He just…hugged, held his hand and brushed close.              Then kissed him being certain that he’d be kissed back.              A month later, Jingkook was staying over when Taehyung’s mom traveled. They hid it well—until Hoseok noticed and panicked. He should have had a private talk with his brother, but instead he brought the crew in.              They denied everything. "Nothing happened and never could." Jungkook snarled and Taehyung just trembled, his eyes were darting between the guys and the Faceless. A dismissive shrug might’ve ended it. But then the Pincher made a crude joke about the Princess. The others laughed about it until Taehyung’s eyes glistened under his curls.              What happened next? No one knows for sure, but Jungkook didn’t stop at the Pincher. He took swings at everyone within his reach. And what about Cody? He didn’t intervene. He just dragged Taehyung behind the curtain without a word.              No one knows what was said. But after that, the Princess vanished. The crew regretted it,especially Hoseok, who started the mess.              Their personal sun had set.              Just like it’d risen—suddenly.              Cliché as it sounds, those were their the best months. One person has changed everything. And when he left? The air turned to ash. Jungkook trained as if he has been possessed, the fists were punishing the heavy bag until the others flinched.              No one dared ask about Taehyung.              Did they talk after that? It was unlikely. Jungkook practically lived at the garage. Hoseok tried to apologise, but only one look shut him down.              Then, six months later, the Pincher slammed a flyer on the table:              "The Art-Friends Academy: Jazz & Pop Showcase."              The small print listed the performers and Kim Taehyung’s name was among them.              The crew erupted, was jabbing at the paper, then they stared at Jungkook who was frozen and speechless. Until Cody did the impossible: clapped him on the shoulder and said that they all should go and support the princess.       The street gangs have the brutal codes. But the Southies? They’re quiet about it. Why they silently agreed only the God (and Cody) knows. Maybe the boss realized his mistake after sending Taehyung away without even hearing him out.              (He wasn’t heartless, he was just pragmatic. And if two people kept it discreet then who cared.)              At the concert, the Southies caused a scene at the door—too rough and too Bronx. Then Taehyung’s professor spotted them. He’d heard stories about "the boys who became a family and then exiled him." It was obvious who they’d come for. Mr. Kang just asked for Cody and told him to keep the crew in line.              Inside, the gang grinned under the dim lights. And the Faceless finally took off his hat because it was too hot indoors and too rude to keep the hat on. His heart hammered, waiting for the one person who’d shattered his world and then disappeared.              After that talk with Cody, Taehyung had moved without a word.. Jungkook, a person who hated texting—spammed his phone. He learned to send voice notes and Replayed old ones in a secret folder. They’d both known that were from the different worlds and their connection had deadly consequences. Neither of them had the courage to fight for what has barely began.              But everyone deserves a second chance.              Taehyung didn’t expect to see them in the crowd. At first, he blamed the stage lights. Then he locked eyes with Jungkook and there was no mistaking that stare. When he finished his jazz piece, the Southies cheered the loudest, whooping for their Princess. They shoved Jungkook toward the stage, where he awkwardly handed over the flowers.              That concert’s still talked about.              It is not because the street kids showed up for a prodigy performance, and not because Taehyung won or got the best offers.              It is because of the tears—in Taehyung’s eyes under his curls and in Jingkook’s dark ones when he whispered something that shattered the Princess on the spot. Taehyung tried to flee away, but Jungkook yanked him into a crushing hug, stealing his breath.              In that moment, the Southies understood. They didn’t say it aloud, but accepted it—like the existence of the sky or leaves on the trees.              It just was.              They say Kim Taehyung made it big. It was not overnight, of course, it took years. He moved to Manhattan, but he was not alone. He moved with that grumpy guy wno had Never let his Princess go again. And the about the "Faceless" thing? It appeared to be a joke. There were no scars on a Jongkook`s face, he was just a devastatingly handsome guy who learned to accept his own appearance, thanks to Taehyung who saw behind the mask.              No one knows where they live now. But the Bronx still whispers about them. Is it forbidden? Maybe. But does the same concern about this kind of love?              You can’t silence it.              Because… Who else, if not them?