A nameless city. A suffocating summer. Under flickering streetlights and alleys painted with peeling walls, eight lost souls found each other—not through blood, but because their wounds strangely fit together.

A train rushes by in the distance, rattling the cracked windowpanes. You – the only girl in this group – sit on a rooftop, a lollipop between your lips, eyes quietly searching a starless sky. You don’t remember how long you’ve been here. You only remember the day they pulled you into their world, like you had always belonged.

“If you’ve got nowhere else to go, then just stay here,” Namjoon says — not asking, just deciding.

“My room’s small, but I don’t sleep much anyway. You can take it,” Jimin smiles softly, draping a blanket over your shoulders.

Yoongi doesn’t say a word, just hands you a warm cup of milk. For the first time in a long while, you don’t feel afraid of being near someone.

“We’re not exactly normal, you know,” Hoseok whistles, his eyes lighting up like fireworks. “But maybe… not worse than the world out there, right?”

Taehyung, doodling nonsense on the wall with a paint pen, turns and blurts out, “We’re family now, aren’t we?”

Jungkook says nothing. But he was the first to reach out and pull you from that puddle in the alley. His hand was cold—yet it held on tightly.

Jin bought you a tiny cake that day, even though it wasn’t anyone’s birthday. “Because you’re still alive,” he said. “And that’s something to celebrate.”

You once believed nothing could last. But they came crashing into your life like a storm and made you believe again— That if you couldn’t have a family, maybe you could build one… From people the world left behind. ———— The rain had started before dawn, but no one bothered to close the curtains.

Yoongi slammed his fist on the table — the piano was broken again. No one said it, but someone had spilled water on it last night. Jimin sat curled up in the corner, paint still on his hands, eyes red but refusing to explain. Hoseok walked in, dropped a bag of bread on the table, and scoffed: “So, are we fighting today?”

Namjoon was trying to fix the flickering light, but the short-circuited wires kept killing the power. Seokjin, frustrated, raised his voice more than usual: “No one here is a guest. This place won’t stand if we all keep waiting for someone else to hold it up”

Jungkook sat silently, headphones in — but no music playing. He crushed a soda can in his hand, eyes locked on Taehyung — who had just come back from God-knows-where, clothes soaked, bruises on his arms.

“I told you not to mess with those people again.” Namjoon growled through clenched teeth.

“Who else is there to join with?” Taehyung shouted back. “You all live like this halfway-in, halfway-out. How long do you think that’ll last?”