Chapter Text
🌙
White and gold, big chandeliers, even bigger mirrors, so they could see their wealth, feel all their status surrounding them. Everywhere full of food and drinks. People, too, lots of different dresses, but all in muted colours. The music was nice, Jimin had to admit, soft classical music, live, a good distraction.
Still, none of it felt real.
The laughter that filtered around the room felt as rehearsed as the smile Jimin was sporting. Every handshake was a test, every compliment a veiled transaction. The ballroom was full of familiar faces, all polite, but none of them kind, none of them saw Jimin, no. They saw his last name, his wealth, his potential to become just like his parents, but they were blind to his torment. The soft hum of hollow conversations clashed with the turmoil in his mind.
And the worst part of all was not his itchy suit, but his mother’s gaze on him. Sharp. Demanding. Threatening. She never failed at making him feel like prey in the eye of the target.
Stand straight. But don’t look tight.
Put on a smile. Bigger. Better.
Don’t embarrass us. Don’t disappoint us.
Suddenly, his tie felt suffocating. The woman he was talking to suddenly felt too annoying, the conversation long forgotten. He needed to leave. Needed to—
A beacon of light, dressed as always way too bright for a black tie event, strangely accompanied, too. His jacket contrasted nicely with his white hair, something only Taehyung could pull off and be accepted in society with. When Jimin went blond his parents almost disowned him. And it’s barely a honeyed one.
Taehyung finally noticed him and started weaving through the crowd to him, abandoning without a proper goodbye the slightly uncomfortable, but still intrigued, company he had. Jimin’s smile grew wider and more genuine as his best friend made his way through him.
“You look like you’re about to combust.” Taehyung whispered to him the moment he reached his side. Jimin just stared. “Here. Drink, it’s the only way to get through this.” He said, handing him a flute of champagne full to the brim.
“Too obvious?” He asked. He didn’t want his mother’s judgmental stare again.
“For me, yes. To anyone else... not at all.” Taehyung answered plainly.
Jimin finally noticed the tense-looking man beside his best friend. If Taehyung stood out like a sore thumb, he straight up looked like he didn’t belong. He had messy hair, piercings, and was clad in full black from head to toe. Jimin cleared his throat intentionally, asking silently for an explanation from Taehyung.
“Oh! This is Jungkook.” Taehyung finally said. “My new friend. I found him on the street like 10 minutes ago—”
“You make him sound like a lost puppy. Also, ten minutes ago?”
“—and he doesn’t go to school with us. He doesn’t go to school, period, actually. I think he might be part feral.”
Jungkook snorted. “You invited me.”
“And I’m glad I did.” Oh. Taehyung knew what he was doing.
“Fancy prison, huh?” Jungkook said in place of a normal greeting.
“How did Taehyung convince you to come here?”
“He promised food and rich people to piss off. Hasn’t disappointed yet.”
“Good for you.” Jimin said, laughing slightly.
“Anyway, Chim. Come with us. We’re sneaking out in like... fifteen, meet us by the door if you want.”
Jimin hesitated. He wanted to, but his mother was going to murder him.
But then again... ditching this hellhole to go with Taehyung and his new... friend, was an infinitely better plan.
Just when he was about to answer, though, his mother reached them. He gave the pair a once-over before turning to look at Jimin like a hawk at a rabbit. “We have to greet the chairman from Nexis. Come.” Not a request. A command.
Jimin looked over at Taehyung. His best friend smiled smugly at his mother. If it wasn’t for the fact that Taehyung’s parents were richer than the Parks, Seo Soyoung would not be as accepting as she is with the Kim’s offspring.
“Oh, please, go on, Jimin. Go fulfil your duties. I’ll be waiting here with Jungkook.” Taehyung’s tone hid something only Jimin could get. Mockery. Not directed at him but at the role he’d been appointed to.
“Bye, Tae. Jungkook.” Jimin whispered, feeling the gaze of the latter on him, too observant for someone he had just met. “I’ll find you later.”
If he had the luck.
🌑
The smell of oil and metal was thick in the air. The low buzz of the old radio playing the same station as always was the only sound that broke the silence in the garage. Otherwise, it was pretty quiet. Something Yoongi appreciated. His bike rested where he had left it. Waiting for him to start working on it again.
He lit a cigarette and leaned back against the workbench. Not long after Jungkook had left to search for parts, it had started to rain, a drizzle first, now it was steadier. The sound constant. He was alone for now. Not that he minded.
He wiped his hands on a rag when his phone buzzed on the bench.
Hobi 6:55 PM
dinner at 8
joon’s cooking so pray for us
bring that face you make when food’s bad so jin and i don’t have to
we miss you
Yoongi didn’t answer. He rarely did. He stared at the message for a tad too long. He could say no. Stay in the garage.
But...
He crushed the cigarette in the tray and grabbed his jacket.
Jin hadn’t fully opened the door when he began nagging Yoongi about his boots. “Leave them outside, I don’t want you tracking my floor like a stray cat.” He had a wooden spoon in one hand and a tiny sock stuck to his shirt. “Wash your hands. Hobi is banned from touching the stove, and Joonie’s trying to convince a kid that tofu is good”
Yoongi raised an eyebrow “Babysitting?”
“Her mom’s working late again.” Jin answers, stepping aside.
The smell of dakgalbi filled his nose, alongside something slightly burnt—right, Joon was going to cook. Hoseok was in the living room, humming to a children’s song that was playing on the TV, slightly swaying to the beat. Namjoon, on the other hand, was sitting on the floor with a child who wasn’t more than 4, refusing with all her might a piece of tofu the older man was offering her. Both looked extremely offended.
“You came!” Hoseok grinned.
“You sound surprised.”
“We bet on it.” Namjoon said, looking up from the soup. “I said you were coming. Jin that you wouldn’t, and Hobi that you’d come, but late and pretending to be annoyed.”
“I came for the food.” He smirked.
“You always say that.” Jin said, putting the last bowl on the living room table. It was full of colouring books and tiny crayons. “We know you better than that.”
They ate sitting on the floor. They talked for so long that the child even fell asleep on Namjoon’s lap. Yoongi stopped to stare for a second at the picture, at the chaos that these three were, but at the same time, how peaceful he felt with them. A home he found when he was barely eighteen, after he had run away from the life he used to have. Broke, angry, alone. Jin had taken one look at him, and suddenly he was surrounded by people he could call his family.
His reminisce was cut short when he received a cushion to the face, Hoseok looking directly at him with that inquisitive gaze on him, the one he got when he was about to ask a question Yoongi didn’t want to answer.
“So... have you met someone?”
“He doesn’t leave the garage.” Jin muttered, chuckling. Yoongi just huffed.
“I like my peace. Meeting someone would disrupt that.” He replied dryly, not looking up from the plate in front of him.
“Leave him alone, you two.” Namjoon said, trying to keep the peace. “He’ll find it when he least expects it. We can force it.”
Yoongi didn’t respond. He never liked talking about that kind of stuff. And this time, for some reason, his chest felt strangely tight. Restless.
Something was coming. But he didn’t know what.