I Want to Watch You Grow
Brian Kelly x Trans Masc Reader
Read it here on AO3 if you would like!
- This is a Brian Kelly x Trans Man reader fan fic. This conronicles your long term relationship with Brian and your development with yourself. Your body, and transition as a transman.
- I hope everyone enjoys this. Finds space within themselves and their relationship with the world. It’s okay to be trans, being trans is beautiful. it’s a difficult, glorious journey that is far more of a beginning then an end. Living happy life, being proud of yourself and your body.
- The fic is long, about 12 pages. So please, soak it in, and I wish you the happiest day!
The two of you had been dating for some time. You had met at a small high school party. A good group of friends coming together around a Summer bonfire, slipping your feet out from the well worn sandals and wiggling them infront of a fire. The soles of your feet toasted, turning them around to be goldened on both sides. You held a long metal skewer with two plump marshmallows on the end, rotating it around as you warmed it to a golden ball of glory.
It was sweet, being able to spend time with old friends and make some new. Your friend Ronnie had invited the skater kids from school to join you. He had bonded with them over their mutual love for rock and rap music. It made sense, they both loved Public Enemy. Blasting ‘We Got the Power’ out of their car radios whenever they had a chance.
You enjoyed it, they threw out some good rhymes and it was a battle cry for your youth. You generation. You couldn’t help but bob your head to the music and belt along.
It was towards the end of the night when you two met. Brian had showed up late, hair slicked with a heavy line of sweat. A shirt quickly shoved into his pants, trying to clean up for his group of friends after a long day of skating.
He had skipped out of work that day- well, really, the restaurant was slow so there wasn’t much need for two busboys. He had spent the rest of his afternoon and late into the stary night, skating at the skatepark. The street lights clicked on and it had made it hard for him to see the clear edges of the ramps. It was time to turn in and get a bite to eat. Putting aside the new trick he caught from someone else. Trying to nail it.
If he knew it could be done, then he could. He just needed enough time and perseverance to figure it out.
With skating, the possibilities were endless. It was his place to let go of life’s worries and focus on something where had complete control. The complete right to be, what and who he is, with no to tell him otherwise. Skating was like a lifeblood for him, his way of life.
His boundless universe.
He came jogging in, skateboard in hand as he approached the group huddled around the warm fire.
The trees swayed, creaking under the age and weight of their own majesty with a long gust of wind. It was dark, the hum of Summer turning to a deep pitch of haze. Black rolling in, only to be illuminated by the glaze of starfull and a half crescent moon. The forest was thick, lulled by the hum of heated crickets and hushed by the cool breeze of night. Smoke pooling from the warm fire, whisping and licking up the sky with powerful might. Your toes curled, seeking a gentle relief from its delightful burning flame.
They were roasted and baked. You tucked them into the ground, shifting your heals to push back the brush and find a damp, cool, interior.
Brian waved, throwing an arm up to welcome everyone. A boy buzzed in the background, rolling a hit out of a cheaply made bong. Coughing as he blew out his lungs. Stoned till’ the cows come home.
“Hey guys! Sorry I’m late, it uh, took me a while to find you guys,” He smiled, strolling on into the circle and making his way over to Yabbo. Giving him a high five and saying hello to Buddy.
You popped your marshmallow onto a graham cracker and some chocolate. You munched on your treat, washing it down with a sip of beer.
You watched Brian that night, catching his eyes as he chatted with Buddy over some trick he had been captivated by. Transfixed on trying to nail, to, gleam the cube.
He noticed, his shit stain smirk would appear even in mid sentence. Hands flailing out, gesturing and expressing his exasperation on some wild tangent he was on about skating. About life. About love. It was amusing to watch him, loud and audacious as he was. He could even make Buddy loud, who was normally a quiet and reserved guy. Get him chuckling about some silly joke he made, and pairing it with an audacious face. Hands whipped out, a cross between a dragon and a gorilla.
You had finished off your second beer, musing with a friend about the stars as you gazed. Heads turned up, pondering the wide expanse of space. Its’ glorious bounds, its beauty, its’ wonder.
It put things in perspective for you. Not in a scary way, but in a comforting one. That sometimes, our emotions can feel massive. And they can be! But they also fall away, soothe and ease, as we realize, this shall pass. As all things. Even life. And so, what we must work towards is enjoying it. Like moments like these- feet kicked up on a stump, back eased into a lawn chair with a good beer in hand, spending time with friends. The summer breeze cooling your warm skin, still tanned and glowing from a long day spent outside. Walking, running, and spending time with those that mattered to you. You can’t steal back time, but instead, enjoy it.
Brian tapped Buddy’s shoulder, gesturing for him to shift over as he stood up. Slicking to the outside of the circle, making his way over.
He stopped at the bag of mellows, nabbing two and popping one in his mouth. Munching on its sugary goodness as he finished the trip. Sliding down and popping on the ground, criss-cross-apple-sauce style.
You picked your chin up from the stars, turning your head towards him, “Hey.”
“Hey,” He smiled tiredly, softly. It had grown late and the group had died down, calming and chatting amongst themselves. “So, I uh, don’t think I caught your name,” He mused, chuckling with an anxious delight. He had caught your fancy and talking to attractive people always made his insides flutter.
“It’s Y/N, what’s yours?” You smiled, letting out a tiny yawn, hand hovering over your mouth.
And on command, it was his turn. “Briannn.” He said, pushing through his wide open mouth, eyes turning to closed slits. Watering.
“Jesus, I’m beat,” He muttered, whipping his eyes.
“You too?” You couldn’t stop, the two of you speaking through widely stretched mouths, yawning and releasing the tired souls of your body out into the air. Like ghosts being exercised.
“Yeah!” He squeaked, putting his hand over his mouth. This time his mouth reaching out farther. As if a shark could unhinge its massive jaw.
Slowly, both of yours bodies cooled down. Chatted about the quiet, peaceful sounds of the forest. How the night made your feel alive, at ease within your own body. It was easy talking with such a nice man, cracking soft jokes and poking fun at the world. The politicians, the fat cats, and parents. Some stupid shit a drunk girl did at school, how the one guy on the football team fucked the head swimmer and stirred drama in the theatre group. He had been dating Jared, but it all fell for shit when he saw Sam in those swim trunks.
You both agreed, he looked mighty fine in the spandex speedo. And Tom did too, especially when he found out how kind he was.
“So who do you think is the biggest class clown? Don or Vinny?” You mused, shifting your weight in your seat. Turning towards him.
“Ahhh, I’m not so sure. Vinny is my man, but I really like Tabitha-”
“That bitch?” You shot, clicking your tongue. “She fucking stole $20 out of my backpack, fuck her!”
His eyebrows knitted, looking disappointed. “Yeahhh, she ain’t very nice. I disagree with you there,” He looked at the blaze, shaking his head. “But it’s not a ‘frienship’ competition. I give her props pouring that bottle of stinky slick on that jerk in Ceramics. That one that makes all those gross racist comments in school.” Fuck him for his piece of shit mind. There was no reason to be like that.
“-Ugh!” Your eyes rolled, shaking your head, “I know, I fucking hate him. He’s a piece of shit,” Internally you groaned, thinking of his disgusting face.
“For that, I respect her. The fool won’t change his mind and he needs to learn that he can’t do shit like that. It’s not like he’ll listen, I’ve tried,” He popped a mellow into his mouth, chewing. “She got 3 days of suspension for that. It was pretty ballsy,” Shitting on racist was both funny and satisfying.
“What-? Why did she get that-?”
He shrugged, looking amazed, “I don’t know. It’s fucked up, that’s school for ya. It’s not right.”
You shook your head disgusted. If only they would understand, listen. “Ok, so, who has your favorite comedy?
“-Sam,” He smiled, poking a branch into the fire.
You watched him stir up the flame, picking at a log and turning it over.
“Same, he’s really nice. He’s quiet but he has a smart tongue on him,” Slowly the fire grew. Emboldened by the new life, “Tom’s really lucky.”
Brian shot you a look, teeth flashing in a grin, “Cuz Jared’s so hot?”
You shot up in your seat, pushing yourself closer to him- “Okay though, right?!” Brian burst out laughing, head thrown back as he boomed.
You waved your hands up into the air, desperately. “He has those pecs! Those thick arms! I just wanna be hugged by him!” He was a big tall teddy bear! A muscular one too! Who doesn’t love a big teddy bear?!
“I know, I know!” He slapped his knee, face red and warm, and it wasn’t from the booze. “He’s cute! He’s really cute!” He laughed, smiling through his big open mouth.
The two of you talked for the rest of the night, making another round of smores and sipping on the last of your cold beer. It was easy, talking to him. You found a kind of warm comfort and acceptance by such a free soul. By someone who really just wanted to be seen and heard, and loved for who he was.
*****
That night would bloom into many others. A few months you spent together, as friends, and the others, as lovers. You slowly got to know each other over time progressed. Eventually, love bloomed. Infatuation took to desire, day dreaming about the next time you’d see him. Hand propping your chin, staring off into a whiteboard filled with math equations as the teacher droned on. The last week of school was a buzzkill, bittersweet, and painfully long.
You wanted it to end. For it to be Summer, to be scott-free and without responsibilities. But that also brought changes and your second stage of life was on the horizon.
****
The time came and both of you decided to take a year off from college. Work and save up some money. Spend time together as much you can.
You planned on going away to school a few hours away. Brian hadn’t quite decided, but it looked to be the same.
Both of you would attend the same school and it would work out well. Eventually, you both got through the next four years with your brains intact for the better. He majored in music production with a minor in entrepreneurship. He wanted to do something in music, start his own band and maybe build his own label. You majored in _____ and loved it. And your relationship had lasted, strengthened. Finding a quiet peace and home in one another. A thing you quietly wished for in your heart and didn’t know you needed until you found it.
The freedom to be yourself with another. One who would love and accept you, regardless of the circumstances and the changes.
But it didn’t always make it easy. You had been having feelings about your body. Ones that you didn’t quite like and found increasingly frustrating to have. To not have the words, the names, to understand and express how you felt.
You already knew you weren’t straight. That had long been established to yourself and to Brian’s knowledge. He didn’t care- well, that wasn’t quite the right way to put it. He was supportive of your queerness and actually encouraged it. You both were fluid as a snake- bodies and gender thrown right out of the door. What mattered was the person, the attraction, and the two of you- had a lot of that for one another.
He also wasn’t one to put up many questions about the way you dressed. Switching out fem for? Masculine? He was game. He liked your style, even sowed on some patches on your jacket when he asked. Though as time wore on, catching the way you shield away from your chest… Your feelings about your body… He noticed.
“Hey babe?” He slid into the frame of the doorway, hand grasping the side of the wood as he leaned in. Watching you do your hair, clothed, and fixing your hair.
“Yeah? What’s up?” You looked at him through the mirror, running a comb through your head. “Is my coffee ready?”
“Yeah, it’s on the kitchen table. With your toast,” He walked in, looking quiet. Tentative. “Can I talk to you about something?”
You turned, “Yeahhhh…” Your voice fluttered, knowing that face he makes. It made you uneasy. “What do you wanna talk about?”
“Are you… alright? You’ve been distant lately, like somethings on your mind,” He paused, looking down. Guilty, “Did I do something wrong? Are we alright?” He leaned his back against the wall, thumbs hooked into his jean pockets. Glancing up at you.
You set down the brush, turning, “Yeah,” You coed softly. Tenderly to the sweet man, “We’re okay, I’m just going through some stuff,” It was easier to put that into words. You needed time to figure things out, to share how you felt. You didn’t even have them for yourself, at least not clearly.
You hoped time would reveal itself, help your understand and work through what you were feeling.
And you didn’t know how it would change you. Or, for the matter, Brian. Your relationship with him.
He gestured to you, beat, “Do you.. Wanna talk about it?”
It fell on silence, unsure.
“Yes… but not now. I need some time,” You stepped, drawing his eyes.
“Like… how long?” It was bugging him, an itch he can’t scratch. A problem he saw, a frustration he can’t touch.
It was yours, and one that effected him. He wanted you happy and content.
To ease your pain.
“I’m not sure,” You slipped a hand into his and locked fingers together. Drawing his hand up and lined your hips with his. Brian’s other slip around your waist, pulling you close. “You’re going to have to wait, to trust me until I’m ready to talk about it. But I do love you- and it’s not because of you,” You pressed your lips to his, slowly lifting them away. “Or something you’ve done. We’re okay.”
“Alright, I just-” He looked into your eyes, vulnerable. “I want you to be happy, no matter what. Whatever it is.”
“And I thank you for that, I really do. I appreciate it,” Another press, lips locked, tongues twisting for a moment.
“Oh? Is someone?”
You laughed, caught red-handed, “Yeah, a bit.” You mused.
****
And for a while, it was left like that. You ordered yourself a proper binder and he was properly happy for you, seeing you excited to go and slip it on as soon as it came in the mail. You checked yourself out in the mirror, beaming as you found a sense of newfound confidence and comfort in your appearance. Your body.
He liked the way you smelled after you changed deodorants. You smelled rich and musky, one that you both adored. For him, it was intoxicating. Even picked up your armpit in bed as you yelped, his head buried in your pit to get a good whiff of your scent. Both of you sent laughing and shouting and you play fought in bed, beating back the monster you so endearingly loved.
“Fucking hell Brian!! Give me my arm back!”
“No! Never!” He bellowed, hand tightening around your wrist, pinning it against the wall as your feet kicked against him. He loved it, making you mad and crazy at the same time.
Tickling was your enemy! One that he used and abused, to get you laughing and squirming as he tied his body around yes. Pressing kisses to your cheek like a woodpecker.
****
Eventually, you found answers. The internet helped and a good stack of books about gender. It worked to ease your feelings about your body and the amount of envy you had for the masculine. It was difficult at first, being able to sort through attraction and gender envy at the same time. Slowly, you found answers. A confirmation of your feelings and way of life. The amount of euphoria you received when the simple stranger called you ‘man’ or ‘sir’ felt glorious. Elating and at home with yourself in a way that felt right. A homecoming.
You started to approach the subject with Brian. The two of you were friends with trans people, but it still felt fresh. Weird, and confusing to go through yourself. Being trans still didn’t give you cut and dry answers, it was a journey. A grey area because, even through they had gone through that journey, it was still personal. You had to find answers for yourself and the world is a weird, wild place.
But, it didn’t mean you were something else. Or strange for that matter- you were you, and that’s what mattered. You were exploring.
You two had been laying in bed. A quiet Saturday day spent outside, running errands and going to the farmers market to buy fresh produce and bread. It was lovely and peaceful. You guys had turned into bed early, curled under a soft comforter as you sprawled out in bed. The sun had set.
“Hey,” You whispered, dusting a piece of long hair out of his face. He was turned towards you, a fit of blankets wrapped around him as his body cupped towards yours.
“Hey,” He yawned, eyes fluttering in sleepiness.
You dusted a finger along his jaw, his chest slowly rising and falling. A ham all baked like a warm potato. “Can we talk?”
He shifted his head closer to your touch, liking the way you slowly stroked his skin. “Yeah, what’s up?” He yawned.
“I’ve been thinking, for a while now. That I might be trans,” You paused, wanting to release the next few words from your brain. “I think I am.”
“Oh?” He shifted up, sitting up now and trying to wake up his brain. Serious conversation time. “Really?” His voice was kind, asking for confirmation.
You nodded, “Yes.”
“As in nonbinary or trans masc?” He ran a hand through his hair, swooping the fluff back. Pulling himself together.
You laughed, feeling the butterflies swarm in your stomach. “Trans masculine.”
“Okay,” he smiled, nodding. Taking it in. “So uh, what do you want to do? If anything at all?”
“Honey-” You pestered, giving him a look.
“I’m asking! That’s up to you!” He was ginger, trying not to pry but dying inside. The questions!
“Clothes, that’s for one thing.”
“You’re already wearing my boxers- we gotta get you more of those.”
You had been stealing them from him. They were comfy, among other things. You couldn’t help but crack a guilty smile. He had mentioned it before when he had ran out, pissed because he hated wearing dirty ones.
“And shirts, and some good cuffed jeans-” You added.
“Dickie’s has those, we can thrift you Carhart’s from Goodwill.”
You paused, holding your breath. Holding onto the next few words, as if they couldn’t be taken back. Releasing them into the world, “And transitioning. I think I want to do that too.”
He reached for your hand, his thumb stroking your palm as the two of you laid in bed. Him looking down at you as your sprawled out, your elbow propping yourself up. “Okay, if that’s what you want, I support you. I want that too,” He pulled up your hand and pressed his lips to them softly. Firmly intertwining his fingers with yours, squeezing them tightly. Securely.
“Do you want to go by different pronouns? A name?”
“Yes, I want to be named Y/N,” You smiled, feeling his hands pull you in. Draw around you in a deep hug as he slid down to your level, comforting and embracing you. “I want to go by he/him pronouns.” You chuckled against his skin, head buried into the crook of his neck.
“Well hello my Prince, I’m so glad to meet you Y/N,” He pressed a kiss to your cheek, smiling through it as your heart brust. Crying in relief, in tears of joy and relief.
“You’re not mad?” You squeaked, tears rolling down your cheek.
“Baby~” He purred, pulling back, to look into your eyes. “Of course not, I want you to be happy. You’re precious to me,” He said, soothing you. “Is this what’s been bothering you?”
You nodded.
“I’ve been… wondering about it,” He mused. “I kinda figured it out after you bought your binder and started shaving your face. You barely had peach fuz but you looked so happy… so, much more bright that day,” You had slowly been trying things out. Listening to your body and how you felt. Changing your style, presenting more masculine. You even bought clothes from the men’s section and started to let go using gender specific pronouns for yourself. To ease the pain of dysphoria while you figured out feelings. Your therapist helped.
“But I’ve been waiting until you tell me, that’s your stuff,” He wiped your chin, brushing off the stream of tears. “I know you’d tell me eventually, whatever your answer was- I want to support you. I chose that long ago, I stand by that.” He smiled, adding, “And if things change in the future, that’s okay too. Gender and bodies are a tricky thing.”
There was so many choices- my so options- in how trans people choose to express themselves. All of them are valid, it’s what makes you happy is the most important thing. What aligns with yourself.
“Thank you,” You sniffled, peaking out a smile. You were happy, and now tired, and just wanted to curl up in bed. The rush of emotions flooding your system, the bent of stress and relief washing over your system. Draining you.
You wanted to feel this moment in its security, its acceptance. “That means a lot to me Brian.”
“Of course- and for what it matters-” He leaned into your ear, whispering, “I think you make a handsome man. And will continue too.”
“It doesn’t change things- between us?”
He shrugged, unfazed, “I don’t think so. I’m attracted to you and I like men so-” Another quizzical look, “I don’t see how it would change things in that department. I think I need to know more but I don’t think so.”
You raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean?”
“I want to read more about it so I can help you. I know it can be hard for trans people to get the resources they need to transition. We’re going to both go through this and I want to help you. -If that’s what you want, of course.”
“Oh! Okay,” you nodded. You slid down together, laying in each others arms. Curled underneath the seats, your tears dried up. Heart shining. “I want that, your help. I fucking hate calling the doctors office.”
He laughed, “I know! I know!” You would get stressed, talking on the phone could be weird sometimes. It made you anxious.
You tucked your head into his chest, hearing it beat with the life you held so closely. His arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close. “Thank you Bri, for everything.”
“Of course Y/N,” He spoke softly, warm. “I love you, you’re my everything.”
The two of you drifted off to sleep in bed, listening to the sound of Summer rain come in through the window. Drops slapping against the hard concrete, easing you into a deep slumber.
****
The two of you got along better after that. You were able to save up enough money to see a gender therapist. A general practice doctor that specialized in transgender health, giving you access to the hormone treatments you so desperately needed.
The changes came slow at first, the T being newly added to your system. Eventually, the body hair came in. Sprouting up your legs and turning thicker, darker, up your knees. Your body weight shifted, redistributing around your body with a healthy addition of exercise. Your jaw widened, spotting itself with facial hair which you so proudly grew. Cleaned up and trimmed, sculpting it to your desire.
That was one of your favorite moments. When you asked Brian to show you how he shaved his face. He pulled out of his bag of clippers, helped you learn how to wash your face and spread shaving cream on your face. How to guide the razor against your skin, trimming the well grown facial hair.
“-Like this- you gotta go against the grain if you want it smooth,” You were both creamed up, with your hair clipped back. He had a headband pushing his strands back, keeping it from falling into his face.
“Okay,” You mumbled in front of the mirror, guiding the razor across your skin. Wincing when you nicked yourself and hoping you don’t do that again.
“It’ll get easier, trust me,” He assured, slicking the last bit of cream off of his clean face. He mostly kept himself clean shaven, though there was a time where he rocked a thin mustache. Even some musky stubble around his cheeks. Which you loved.
And so was your transition.
In time, you qrew to love and enjoy your body even more. Seeing the face you so expected- and wished for- being reflected in the mirror. Muscles come in, adjusting your body shape to one that you desired.
Brian was very supportive. Even helped you find a good doctor for your top surgery. He pitched in money for your procedure, taking some extra hours as the store manager at the record shop where he worked. He was planning on taking it over from the owner in a few years. He had helped them expand into a second storefront. He was proud of it.
He drove you to your surgery, making sure you had everything prepared. Extra magazines, music, books, even your sketch pad and journal if you so wished it. You would sleep after your surgery in the hospital bed, groggy and tired from the boat load of meds and painkillers lulling you to a peaceful state. He wanted to make sure you were content, that you healed well and passed the time while you recovered. The tiny hospital tv having few channels to capture your attention. He ready to help you pass the time.
After your surgery, you couldn’t move your arms very much. At least not above your head. It would pull at your incisions, the area bruised and draining of fluids. He would tend to you, changing your bandages and helping you get things from the kitchen cupboards. Asking you to relax and let him take over- when you insisted on cooking dinner. That you felt fine, that the pain wasn’t too bad. Even though your chest ached, he didn’t want you to push yourself.
It was okay to lean on someone else, to let them tend to you at times in need.
He adored you and embraced the new found man you had become. He liked hearing you softly talk into his ear, listening to how your voice had dropped. Had changed, deepened, and thickened. It was an adventure for the both of you, one that you happily embraced and found a new home. In you, yourself, and each other.
He was proud to call you his boyfriend, his favorite man on Earth.
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The Heart Holiday | Act 2 (2/2) | myg
Synopsis: Valentine’s Day is declared as an official holiday. However, private companies’ standards dictate it’s only for the people who are currently in a relationship. Unluckily for Y/N, she doesn’t have this year’s PRS’ (Proof of Relationship Status) “in a relationship” box ticked – the only ticket out she can have to enjoy one paid week of holiday leave away from her hellish job. And more unfortunately for Y/N, everyone around her is oh so conveniently currently committed in a relationship. Except for one person: Min Yoongi, Y/N’s biggest critic in every pitch meeting, the picky guy who always picks on her, and the most annoying jerk of the century. Desperate for that holiday leave, Y/N strikes Yoongi up with an offer: Fake date each other two weeks before February 14, just enough time for the Department of Relationship Management (DRM) to consider processing their PRSs. After Valentine’s Day, they will go back to their own ways and never speak about whatever that may happen during the plan. Good, plain, and simple. That is until, Yoongi uncharacteristically oh so enthusiastically agrees to Y/N’s offer, leaving her thinking that she may have bitten something too much more than she can chew.
Characters: Yoongi x Female Reader
AU/ Trope: Office AU (Creatives Staff!myg x PA!reader), enemies to lovers, fake dating
Genre: fluff, angst, comedy (the triple t(h)reat)
Wordcount: 24.5k
Warnings: None (PG-15 Rating). There’s a mention of drunken sex but it’s just one sentence. There’s also less cursing now.
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DAY 4 – January 29; Wednesday
If yesterday had Yoongi weirdly avoiding her like she’s got a highly contagious virus, today’s Yoongi is a hell of a nutcase. This is even far from an understatement. Ever since Y/N set foot in the office, Yoongi is already on her face. “You got my message last night, sweetheart?” He winks as he walks by her side towards the Creatives’ office. When Y/N plops down on her seat, Yoongi’s eyes are already set dead onto her. He’s not sending her his usual ‘I will end you and you know I can’ look. He’s cupping his face and stares at her with wide, big eyes, lips pulled into a small smile. He even goes as far as to wink at her and send her a fucking finger heart. As if it’s not enough, he has spammed her phone with weird shit.
Mean Yoongi >:( : Good morning, pretty girl. (8:19 A.M.)
Mean Yoongi >:( : Did I call you pretty? Oops, I mean little girl AHAHAHHAHAH (9:11 A.M.)
Mean Yoongi >:( : Don’t ignore me now. I know you’re staring at me 😉 (9:31 A.M.)
Mean Yoongi >:( : Who wouldn’t when I’m so handsome? (9:32 A.M.)
Mean Yoongi >:( : You don’t have to tell me. I already know 😉😉😉 (9:35 A.M.)
Mean Yoongi >:( : Y/Niiiiiiieeeeeeeee (10:16 A.M.)
It seems like a virus has gotten into Yoongi’s head and tampered with his brain.
Y/N’s thoughts halt when Dana passes by her cubicle at 11 A.M. She retrieves the folder she gave her yesterday and glosses over the paper where Y/N typed her final picks. “Endmatter, Extreme Cut, Malachite Adventure? And you want to make a hybrid out of them?” Dana glances up at her.
Y/N nervously clasps her hands together, “Well, I know these templates are usually used for feature articles. So I thought, why not make them appropriate for profile pages, too? No one di-dictated them to be just for features, right? Endmatter has a wonderful layout for pictures. Extreme Cut is good for setting focus on the text blocks. Malachite Adventure has a space-efficient layout for sequencing. If we can combine these three, we could provide something new,” Y/N bites her lip. “Nancy likes new and clean for generic pages like the profiles. So…I guess, why not combine these three templates known for having a clean-cut design?”
Dana stares at her. Y/N gnaws on her lips. The blonde breaks into a grin. “My, you do research well.”
Y/N shyly looks down onto the notebook on her desk. She doesn’t do much work other than gathering reports anyway. It’s only logical she spent five hours learning about templates yesterday than not doing anything. She mutters, “I just really put my all when I’m given a job.”
“And you did,” Dana smiles, “I think this is even brilliant. I’ll make sure to tweak these three to what you suggested.”
“Y-you will?” Y/N’s eyes grow big. She could feel her heart hammering loud in her ears.
“Yeah, why not?” Dana shrugs, “This is new so I’m excited, myself, to try this. And because you know what Nancy likes from all the time you spent with her probably overhearing her roast us all to hell and back, I can at least be assured she won’t be too disappointed with this as our previous submission.”
“Yeah,” Y/N smiles. Heat spreads onto her ears and warmth settles on her chest. The feeling feels too foreign and surreal but she guesses it’s probably just because It’s been a while since she’s been praised for doing a good job.
“Guess you and Yoongi made up, huh?”
The spreading warmth freezes cold. Y/N looks up at Dana in surprise.
“I saw you two earlier being chummy with each other. It even looked like you two have fucking heart eyes,” Dana smiles expectantly.
“N-no, we’re—” Y/N cuts herself. Right, we’re supposed to be a couple. We should have already started convincing everyone we’re dating each other the moment we agreed on the deal. Y/N gulps, “Umm, uh, yeah?”
Dana giggles, “You don’t have to be so nervous, you know? I know you two have a thing. For a long time now.” Y/N’s brows meet together. Dana doesn’t dwell on it, gathering the folder back onto her arms, “Thank you for this again, Y/N. See ya later.”
Dana leaves for the break room and Y/N’s left staring at her back. Her stupor is broken when Yoongi enters her field of vision again, hands occupied with papers. When he passes by her cubicle, he makes sure to flash her another mischievous wink.
Y/N groans and slumps her head onto her desk.
“He’s got my number now, Mina, and to make matters worse, he’s being a winking machine ever since this day started!”
Mina nods. However, Y/N could tell something is up. Her bestfriend’s eyes are switching from her face and onto her radio and her hands were shaking in her clasp. It’s as if she’s restaining herself.
Y/N pauses. She pulls her seat closer to her friend, “Did something happen, Mina?”
Biting her lips, Mina pins her with a look, “Y/N, promise me you won’t be too surprised.”
“Why?” Y/N’s eyes grow bigger, “So something really happened? Tell me, Mina.”
No,” Mina shakes her head. She closes her eyes, “Just promise me you won’t overreact.”
Y/N’s lips twitch. “Okay.”
Mina sighs. She turns to her computer and scrolls through her Facebook account. “So yesterday, I’ve been talking with our high school batchmates. They were planning a reunion next month. A big one. They said they’re trying to get ahold of the whole batch. And something caught my eye.” Mina zooms a post on the screen.
It was a post of Suho Lee, the former Student Council President of their batch in National East Science High School. He took a picture of him and his former members of the council, announcing they’re indeed planning a huge reunion since it’s been a while they’ve seen each other. The post has over a thousand likes by now because Suho made sure to tag almost everyone in the batch. Of course, he’s Suho. Suho knows everybody. Y/N could even see Mina’s name among the tags. But what made her jaw drop is one aberrant name she never expected to be there.
Min Yoongi.
Y/N turns to Mina, eyes blown wide, “Mina, what the hell is this?”
Mina nods, “I’m also shocked, Y/N. I didn’t know he studied in the same high school as us. He’s even our fucking batchmate. I didn’t know—wait, Y/N, where are you going?!”
Y/N exits the Accounting Department and scrolls through her own Facebook account. She walks in fast strides and heads to where she only knows Min Yoongi will be during lunch: the break room. When she swings open the door, she’s right in her speculation.
Y/N walks toward the man who’s washing his utensils in the sink.
“Min.”
Yoongi pauses and looks to his side, “Oh, sweetheart, you’re here.”
“Don’t call me sweetheart,” Y/N spits. She flashes her phone to Yoongi. “What’s the meaning of this?”
Yoongi squints. “It’s a reunion announcement.”
“Obviously,” Y/N rolls her eyes, “I know how to read, Min. And because of that, I know you’ve been tagged here. So, tell me, why is your name here?”
Yoongi places his washed utensils in the dishrack. “Obviously, I’ll be tagged because I studied at NES High,” He looks at Y/N, leaning his hips against the counter, “Why are you making such a big deal out of a reunion announcement?”
“Because I studied here too!”
It’s time for Yoongi to have his eyes bulge out, “Y-you did?”
“Of course, I did! This is where Mina and I first met!”
“But I thought you two were just college buddies?”
“We are! But we belong in the same friend circle in high school first before we got closer in college—this is not the point,” Y/N exasperates, “Why did you not tell me you studied in the same high school?!”
Yoongi opens his mouth but Y/N cuts him short, “Oh, I know. This is probably the reason why you’re tormenting me ever since you got into Travel Loca.”
“What?”
Y/N crosses her arms. “You’re out here to take your revenge on me.”
The furrows on Yoongi’s forehead deepen.
“Hello?” Y/N deadpans, waving her hands as if it can shake up Yoongi’s memory, “You’re probably one of the names I removed on some group work we had because you’re a freeloader. No wonder you’re so lazy and such a slack-off when you used to co-P.A. with me.” Y/N holds her head high, “And now, you’re here to take revenge.”
Yoongi releases a half-scoff, half-laugh, “What?”
Y/N frustratedly blows a sigh, “In case you did not know, I’m well-known in the batch for removing names of freeloaders in group works. I haven’t kept track of how many names I’ve already removed because they’re that many. And now, you’re here taking your revenge. You don’t have to be petty, Yoongi, you know? If you had unresolved feelings—which I think you don’t have any right to have in the first place because it’s your fault for being lazy and you dug out your own grave—you could have just talked with me like a goddamn adult instead of doing all the shit you did—”
Yoongi’s guffaw cuts you short.
Y/N scowls, “Why are you laughing, Yoongi? This is not funny.”
“Oh, it is!” Yoongi lets out, in-between breaths, “This is hilarious! Revenge? What will I avenge against you when I don’t even know you studied in the same high school?”
Y/N stops. “Y-you don’t know me? But I’m the valedictorian of our batch!”
“Not everyone cares to know that, you know?”
Y/N’s scowl deepens, “Just because you didn’t get any awards in your whole life doesn’t mean you get to demean and undervalue other’s people achievements.”
“I’m not undervaluing it,” Yoongi takes a step closer to her, “I’m just saying no one spends too much time remembering their batch’s valedictorian. I don’t even remember the summa cum laude of my own batch in college.” Yoongi takes a step closer to Y/N, trapping her back on the counter. He leans forward, closing the space between their faces so small only a hair’s breadth separates their noses from brushing against each other. Y/N lets out an inaudible gasp. Yoongi smirks, “What makes you so different, sweetheart?”
Y/N places her hands on his shoulders, “Don’t get too proud of yourself, Yoongi.” But before she can push him away, the door swings loudly against the wall and a woman exclaims.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry for interrupting!”
Ms. Teddy. Y/N’s mouth falls open. She weakly hits Yoongi’s chest to back away and pay respect to their temporary boss but Yoongi only holds her fists and gives her a sickening, sweet smile. He turns around to face Ms. Teddy, but not enough to let out Y/N from her position. Yoongi smiles at the general supervisor, “Oh don’t worry Ms. Teddy, you’re not interrupting anything.”
“Are you sure?” the 45-year-old woman asks. Her wary tone doesn’t match the small blush forming on her cheeks though.
“I’m sure,” Yoongi replies, facing Y/N, “I’m just trying to ask my sweetheart for a date.” Yoongi turns back to Ms. Teddy, smiling, “Nothing biggie. She just said ‘yes.’”
Y/N gapes “What—"
“Oh!” Ms. Teddy perks up, “You two are so sweet! I didn’t know you’re actually a couple! I mean, who would have known? You two always fight with each other. But I guess the movies are right. ‘The more you hate, the more you love.’”
Y/N tries not to cringe too hard.
Ms. Teddy chuckles, “What Y/N said before must be true then. Calling you a ‘mean, inconsiderate, self-absorbed jerk’ must be her own unique term of endearment—”
Y/N raises her brows. How did Ms. Teddy know? Only Steven knows about the mug-chipping incident—”
“—I mean, I even used to call my ex-boyfriend ‘stupid asshole,’” Ms. Teddy chuckles. She suddenly releases a frustrated sigh, “God, I still hate him so much.”
Y/N doesn’t know how to react to that. And so seems Yoongi.
“Anyway, don’t mind me,” Ms. Teddy waves, a sweet smile plastered on her face again. She walks towards the ref to retrieve a green Tupperware. “I’m just here to grab my cheesecake.” The way her eyes refuse to tear away from the “couple” seems to say otherwise.
“O-okay,” Y/N says as she looks at Yoongi. It’s a good thing Yoongi is blocking her body from Ms. Teddy. ‘What do we do?’ she mouths at the man.
Yoongi thinks for a millisecond, then mouths at her, ‘Just follow my lead.’
Before Y/N can mouth ‘okay,’ Yoongi has closed the gap between them and pressed a quick peck on her forehead. He smiles at her, tucking a stray strand behind her ear, “All right, I’ll see you later then, sweetheart.”
“A-alright,” Y/N stutters. Yoongi steps away and she quickly makes her way to the door.
Y/N only notices her hands were tingling when she reaches her P.A. station. And that searing warmth has settled itself on her chest. She plops down on her seat and lets out a tired breath. When she glances at her small mirror, she realizes her face is as red as a strawberry.
What the hell just happened there?
Y/N doesn’t get much time to think about it because her phone vibrates next to her leg.
Mean Yoongi >:( : Let’s meet at The Café Bistro after work. Let’s talk about everything. (1:11 P.M.)
Y/N doesn’t see much of Yoongi for the rest of the day. He’s probably holed up in the meeting room again just like yesterday. The Creatives were much in a rush since yesterday, probably after receiving the work Yoongi has disseminated. Everyone is hunched over their computers. Some have buried their heads in previous issues and design brochures. While a few were chattering about what design is better for their chosen template than the other.
And there is one who’s on Y/N’s tail.
“Oh, Myungsoo, I didn’t see you there,” Y/N glances up from the pile of papers on her desk.
Myungsoo doesn’t return the greetings. He leans over her desk and picks one paper to inspect it. “Why do you have this?”
“Umm,” Y/N looks around the papers strewn around, refusing to look at the frowning man, “Ms. Park gave them to me. She wanted to, uh, have me check them and give some inputs about it.” A smile plays on Y/N’s lips. Dana Lee must have told Yoona about her recent arrangement that’s why Yoona came to her after lunch to ask for advice and critique on what she and her concept team have prepared. It’s quite overwhelming as Ms. Park is one of the respected team leaders in the Creatives.
“Ms. Yoona gave you this?” Myungsoo scoffs. Y/N’s smile immediately falls. “Why would she give you this? You don’t know anything about the work we do. You’re just Nancy’s P.A.”
Y/N internally sighs. Myungsoo has always been wary of her ever since she got in the Creatives but she never knew he will be this hostile. Still, she doesn’t want to cause any unnecessary tension so Y/N tries to placate him. She pulls a polite smile on her face, “That’s why Ms. Yoona came to me. She said since I’m with Nancy for almost 24/7, I must probably know a thing or two about what she likes to see.”
“But do you?” Myungsoo raises an eyebrow.
Y/N looks down on the papers, “Y-yeah. Somehow.”
Myungsoo sighs and drops the paper back onto the pile. “Anyway, I’m here to tell you I’m rejecting your letter of permission to get access to our cover page drafts.”
Y/N’s head shoots up, “W-what? But Yoongi—”
“I know what Mr. Min told us this week,” Myungsoo informs. “Yes, we’re tasked to walk you through the activities of our department. However, there are still protocols in our authoritative freedom and I, as a team leader, cannot just give you the drafts of our cover page. We still need more time to work on it and I cannot embarrass myself in front of Ms. Nancy about a work that has not fully taken shape yet.”
“But didn’t you hear what Yoongi said?” Y/N reasons, “I’m here to help you and I need to give updates to Nancy about everything at every end of the week. Especially now when the department is in full motion.” Y/N cannot give Nancy nothing especially now that Nancy has just emailed her that their issue’s deadline has been moved to February 17. It’s just around the corner. In fact, it’s only a matter of weeks!
“Well that’s your problem,” Myungsoo retorts, “I’m not the P.A. What I can only give you for your update reports are our initial proposed ideas.”
But they’re not enough. Y/N closes her eyes, “Look, Myungsoo. I understand that you may be feeling I’m intruding on a space I’m not supposed to. But remember, we’re working together for one company, not for ourselves.” Myungsoo looks like he’s about to bite back but Y/N cuts him to it, “I understand you may feel wary about submitting your concepts for the cover page when they’re still raw. Especially to someone like me who may not completely understand the value you place in your work. However, I cannot just give Nancy undeveloped ideas. So, how about we make a compromise? I’m not gonna push you to walk me through your cover page processing. Or argue more about your raw concepts you’re drafting as of now. But, can you give me at least the plans you made for the undeveloped ideas you’ve chosen your working concept from? So I can still, in a way, report to Nancy the plan your team is trying to execute?”
Myungsoo stares daggers into her before he mutters a clipped, “Fine. Expect to receive them by the end of the week.”
“But I have to report them at the end of the week—”
“End of the week or nothing at all?” Myungsoo sneers, “I can’t rush my artists to finish their concept-making just to take the load off your own job.”
But I’m not demanding you to make my job easier, can’t you just cooperate like an adult?!—Y/N closes her eyes and sighs, “Okay, understood, Mr. Kim.” Fighting with him won’t help anything in the pressure the department is facing.
Myungsoo turns around and wordlessly walks away. YN releases a tired sigh as she goes back onto Yoona’s papers.
Hours pass with Y/N finishing her inputs in a document file. Mina has popped by to tell her she’s leaving early to go on a date with Mark. She said she’d probably be home late so they’ll have to continue their conversation earlier tomorrow. However, that was two hours ago and now, it’s already five and almost everyone in the staff has already left the office. She only gets to realize this when a shadow peers over her cubicle.
“Hey, work’s already over now.”
Y/N looks up and sees Yoongi smiling at her. His hair was messy as always, probably from pushing them back and carding through them throughout the day. His tie is askew and his button-down is folded messily to his forearms. And his smile felt so gentle. She doesn’t know why but she lets out a relieved sigh.
“Let’s go to the Café Bistro now, yeah?”
“Okay,” Y/N smiles back.
“So…you’re the most hated person in your class for removing names of slackers off group works?”
Y/N rolls her eyes, “Didn’t you hear what I told you earlier?”
“Of course, I heard,” Yoongi chortles, scooping a spoonful of his rice bowl, “I just didn’t expect you’ll go for info-dumping in two minutes straight. You really do love to ramble a lot, no?”
Y/N looks away and stuffs her mouth with a spoonful of her own rice bowl. When she swallows down, she pins Yoongi with a glare, “You can say shit all about how I talk but just so you know, that skill got me so far to where I used to be. I wouldn’t graduate cum laude if I didn’t ace all my speech classes.”
“I’m not shitting on it. I’m admiring it.” Y/N freezes in her seat to look at the man. Yoongi chuckles. “I’m serious. You don’t have to be constantly on your guard around me, you know? Aren’t we already friends?”
“F-friends?” Y/N scoffs, “Where the hell did you get that?”
Yoongi tilts his head, “But I already got your number.”
“You forced your way to get my number.”
“I did not force you. You willingly told me your number in a game of 20 Questions.”
“You covertly formatted your questions to get me to spill my number. I did not willingly tell you my number. You coerced me.”
“I didn’t. I got your number fair and square,” Yoongi waves his phone.
“But that doesn’t—”
“And you already put a name on my number in your contacts,” Yoongi grins, “You even have an emoji next to it.”
“How did you know?”
“You opened your phone earlier on the train. And in case you don’t know, the train isn’t one of the most spacious places in the world. We’re practically side by side, look” Yoongi points to the damp patch on his shoulder, “You slept on my shoulder and even got drool on it.” Y/N looks away and stuffs her mouth with another spoon. Yoongi continues, “And with you leaving your phone open for the world to see your messaging app, it doesn’t take two years to see that someone has named you with some obnoxious contact name.” Yoongi opens his phone, “It’s okay though because I also named you this,” he flashes the phone to Y/N.
>:( Evil Peachy Pie Y/N >:(
Y/N squints at him. “Fine, a name for a name.”
“See? That’s why we’re now friends.”
Y/N scoffs, “How come?”
“Because you got me a nickname. And I got you one, sweetheart,” Yoongi winks.
Y/N’s jaw drops, “What the—you know what, go do you and go off to whatever your delusion is feeding you.”
“Yay! Y/N and I are friends!”
Y/N gawks at him. Yoongi shrugs with a smile and digs into his food.
Chatters fill the bistro. Y/N thinks it’s absurd to combine “café” and “bistro” for the name of an establishment. “It’s as if it can’t choose what type of business it really wants,” she argued earlier to Yoongi on the train. But now that she’s inside, she finally understands why. The interior design of the restaurant is covered in warm orange. The walls and the floor were in mahogany wood. The tables and chairs were metal black with curvilinear gildings, making them look like they’re supposed to be garden furniture in the first place. The plates and bowls were faux wood as well, save for the metal utensils and their glasses that came as mason jars. And the overhead lights are gorgeous. The faux candles hung up in circular mini chandeliers above the wooden ceiling give off the aesthetic of a gothic palace. Meanwhile, the bar on the center of the shop was of high-quality polished wood. A lot of people are dining like them on the tables but there are also numerous patrons who were in stools, holding different kinds of liquors in their glasses. There’s a free space in front of the bar where Y/N could see couples slow-dancing to the live jazz band playing in the corner. And with the separate menu for alcoholic drinks the waiter had given them earlier, Y/N could finally see why this cafe is also a bistro.
“So, whose names did you slash off from your group works?”
Y/N whips her head back to Yoongi, “Why are you so insistent about this?”
Yoongi pushes his empty bowl to the side. “You said everyone knows you for that. I’m just curious about the slackers who free-rode on you back then. I might even know them since I studied in the same school.” He leans back and places his arms behind his head, “You could totally help me avoid some leeches in life.”
“First of all,” Y/N points her spoon at him, “You’re the first leech you should know. You slacked off when you were my co-P.A. You slept, you didn’t take calls. You even served me raw for Nancy to roast.”
“I’m sorry.”
Y/N’s brows shoot up. “W-what?”
Yoongi leans forward and clasps his hands together. He looks at the woman in the eye, “I’m sorry about that, Y/N. Sincerely. I admit I was too much of an asshole back then. I tried to justify it by thinking you’re annoying so you deserve some annoyance in life, too. But in the end, I know I’m still wrong. You being annoying or not, what I did was still wrong. I’m sorry.”
Y/N’s jaw drops as she leans slowly back in her seat. Did Yoongi just apologize to her? Again? And for three consecutive times tonight? What is up with him?
“You don’t have to forgive me, you know? Nor am I telling you these just to get the guilt off my back. I’m sincerely sorry. I want to apologize to you.”
“W-what are you suddenly on about?” Y/N tries to laugh but the sound is weird in her ears. “You got so serious, I thought I’m suddenly talking with a stranger.” Y/N tries out a chuckle again. It sounds more convincing to her this time. She waves her hand dismissively, “Anyway, I didn’t actually answer your question. You’re talking about high school so here it goes.” She looks up at the ceiling, “Well, I’ve got Johnny Lee, Byun Baekhyun, Park Mirae, Lee Jieun, Mark Peters” Y/N cups her jaw, “What’s more? Oh! How could I forget—Jennie Kim, Im Nayeon, Daewon Lee—”
“Wait, Daewon Lee?” Yoongi sits up, “You mean Daewon the quarterback? And Jennie Kim and Im Nayeon, the cheerleaders?”
“Why?” Y/N leans forward, “You know them personally?”
“God, yes,” Yoongi laughs, “They’re awful.”
“Tell me about it,” Y/N’s eyes sparkle in interest.
“Well,” Yoongi starts, “we had this class project where we have to recreate a scene from a well-known play or movie. Our class was assigned to do Hairspray. And Jennie Kim was our class president so of course, she was horrible. She re-proved this fact when she decided to go dictator and exercise penalties on anyone who would be late for the rehearsals. She freaking imposed that we have to pay $2 for every minute we were late. All is fine if she didn’t assign her own home as the practice place and there’s a lot in the class who lives a good two miles away. And it didn’t help almost everyone just agreed with it because no one decided to contest it in fear of turning the majority against them. It was horrible. All the late fees were put in our class fund. It accumulated to about $100 at the end of the day and that’s very unfitting when NES High is a fucking public school.
“$100?” Y/N gawks.
“Yeah. Moreover, it’s unfair, because we all know at the end of the school year, the class fund will be divided among each student. With the late fees being implemented, it looks like people who are Jennie and those who live near her will benefit for free from these late fees. Luckily, someone was brave enough to stand up and talked it out with them. And of course, with Jennie being Jennie, she flipped out so the whistleblower eventually had to go to the headteacher of the event to settle the issue. I’m kinda ashamed about this incident. I’m one of the many who just went with the majority because,” Yoongi frustratedly cards through his hair, “I was a bit of a pushover back then.”
Y/N gapes, “Y-you? A pushover? Oh my god, you’re like the stereotypical nerd in movies who does a 180 to seek revenge!”
Yoongi squints at her, “Will you stop with the revenge plot you’ve been pushing since this morning?”
“Okay,” Y/N says but her face looks otherwise with her trying hard to hold in her chuckles.
Yoongi breaks into a chuckle as well, “God, you look ridiculous.”
“So are you,” Y/N laughs. When the snickers die down, she waves at Yoongi, “Go on with the story.”
“Okay,” Yoongi breathes out, “So that was the first strike for this dumb shit squad. The second was worse for it affected the whole batch. It was when the school coordinators tasked each class with a specific dance genre to perform. And Jennie, being the unnecessarily extra bitch that she was, decided to fuck up the arrangement by forcing another class to exchange their assigned piece with ours. Of course, this sparked chaos because when other classes have heard about this, they wanted to exchange, too. And soon, everyone was arguing how they want to exchange or keep their assigned pieces. It’s so messy that the teachers had to hold a batch-wide meeting with all the class officers to settle things out. Luckily, there was someone who stood up and outright pointed out it was Jennie who started it all because she did not ask for the other classes’ consent in the first place—”
“Wait, are you talking about me?” Y/N cuts him, eyes wide. “I’m the one who first called out Jennie in the meeting!” Y/N exclaims, “I can’t hold myself back that day because I’m so sick of everyone just willingly and silently enduring her bullshits! All of this wouldn’t happen in the first place if she wasn’t such a shitty, entitled person. I even remember Jennie staring daggers at me as if doing so can reverse what happened when the teacher told her off in front of the whole batch.” Y/N’s brows meet together, “How did you know about this though? Even if it was supposed to be a batch-wide meeting, not everyone was present. The teachers didn’t make the meeting compulsory especially for the students who feel uncomfortable going against another student.”
“Everyone kind of knows. News about Jennie being roasted by the teacher after a student doused her with the realest true as fuck accusation is enough of a big deal to go around the school.” Yoongi tilts his head, “I just didn’t catch wind it was you.”
“Yeah, but,” Y/N self-consciously rubs her nape, “I just did what I felt was right. I don’t like it when people just stay silent when wrongdoings are deliberately happening in their faces.”
“You’re right,” Yoongi smiles, “and because of that, I’m thinking I’m starting to admire you.” Y/N immediately freezes the heat on her chest back again. She feels it starting to spread up onto her face.
Yoongi, either unaware of her reaction or plainly indifferent about it, just smirks and continues. “Now, that I finished my story with these terrible fucks, it’s your turn. What did they do that you striked these three names off?”
Y/N lets a small smile grow on her lips as she crosses her arms. “It was Daewon who I striked first. As early as 7th grade, mind that. We were groupmates for our Bio experimental case study and he didn’t do a SINGLE thing. Very first year in high school and he’s already letting everyone know he’s a shitty groupmate. So end result? A slashed-off name and an immature ‘pity me’ cryfest in front of the professor.”
“Who’s the professor, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Y/N grins, “Mr. Ascott.”
“Oh shit, Mr. Ascott?!” Yoongi chokes a laugh, “Oh my god, and he dared to cry and ask for pity! Of all people, to the prof who detests freeloading the most?!”
“Yeah,” Y/N snickers, “That’s why it’s so hilarious! Imagine the what-the-fuck face Mr. Ascott has when this spoiled boy tried to cry his way out of his mistake. He looked like he’s about to blast harder than Mauna Kea!”
Yoongi laughs, waving a hand over. “Who’s next?”
Y/N blows out a sigh to die down her giggles, “The next one was Nayeon. 11th grade. We’re a pair this time and we’re tasked to make a research about the communication systems of a business. Whenever I tell her we need to meet up, write the paper, or even talk online for the planning at least, Nayeon kept on coming up with ridiculous excuses like how she’s come down with a fever because she ate a lot of rice or she can’t walk because of a motherfucking aching toenail. She even stood me up in the café I told her to go to, to finally get things done. Talking normally with her is impossible. So yeah, I passed the research with just my name on it.”
Y/N tilts her head, “And last but not the least, Jennie Kim. 12th grade. We had to make a lab report for Chemistry as a group. She said she’s sorry she won’t be able to contribute anything because she needs to be home soon as her mother is deeply sick in the hospital. We understood and told her it’s okay. Only for us to see in her Snapchat later she’s partying hard in a bar,” Y/N rolls her eyes, “But what irritates me most were ironically, not these.”
“Did something more happen?”
“Yes! These three didn’t see any of these as their faults! They saw it as me just being a bitch and picking on them! And because they have such loud mouths, news about me as a ‘name-remover bossy bitch’ traveled fast. Every first day in class per year, a lot of students are already looking at me funny. Throughout the school year, they go as far as ignoring and avoiding me.” YN crosses her arms and directs her eyes onto her empty bowl. “But I’m alright. I don’t care shit about what others have to say about me when I know I’m in the right. I don’t need lots of friends in the first place anyway.”
“But it must have been hard to be alone.”
Y/N’s head shoots up, “What do you mean?”
“To be hated by almost everyone in the class,” Yoongi pulls a sad smile. “It must have been painful in a way. To be treated as an outcast when you didn’t even do anything wrong.”
“I-I wouldn’t call myself an outcast during that time, you know?” Y/N picks up her glass to drink, looking away.
“Well, if you say so. I just thought it would have been…difficult to be alone most of the time. To feel as if everyone hates you. Personally, I don’t care when people talk shit about me. But this feeling that everyone just…doesn’t want to be with you hits me quite hard. I don’t know if you’ve felt this. I just know I will feel like this if I was in your position.”
Y/N, with eyes still trained away from Yoongi, just hums, “…Yeah.”
An awkward silence was starting to settle again until Yoongi breaks it with a sigh, “From all of this, I’m realizing our high school didn’t do a great job in giving us a wonderful experience.”
Y/N turns back to him. She pours water in her glass and mutters, “You’re right. High school is shit.” She leans back in her chair, glass in her hand as she looks at him. “Do you have more bitter stories to tell?”
Yoongi fiddles with his fingers. “Well, there’s one. I mean, there’s a lot because high school wasn’t that kind to people like me back then. But this one really stuck with me. I’ve been…friends with a lot of toxic people throughout high school. At first, I didn’t notice it. How they lowkey downgrade me whenever we hangout. How they always make me the butt of their jokes. How they always leave me out in any of their fun plans for getaways. I even tried justifying their actions, telling myself it’s probably I’m not yet too cool for them. That I still need to fit more with them. And when I finally realized the wrongness in this during one summer, I cut them all out in my life. Only to end up in another friend circle that turned out to be also toxic. Though it’s less toxic than my first one, it’s still toxic. They made me feel bad for doing my best in school, calling me such a conformist to the education system as if it’s so wrong. They made me feel horrible for just studying and preparing too much for quizzes and exams, telling me I’m just investing a lot of time on something I wouldn’t even use when I work. And for the second time, I justified my ‘friends.’ I thought maybe they’re right. I have to listen to them because maybe they’ll leave me and I will have no one else who’d be willing to be friends with me. I only got the wake-up call when my grades all fell down and I had to repeat 10th grade.”
Y/N’s eyes grow large, “B-but, you said it was because of Thesis Writing?”
“Yeah. Thesis Writing was the one that maimed me bad. But what led me to fail it so terribly was because of these second group of friends…Rina, Johnson, and Fei—
Y/N immediately holds up her hands, “Wait, I-I-you don’t have to tell me their names if you don’t want to, Yoongi. You—I don’t know, maybe the memories come back and trigger you—I-I’m not that eager to know their names, you know? I just want to listen to you.”
Yoongi chuckles and Y/N’s eyes only grow more. “I’m telling you their names because I already got over it, Y/N,” Yoongi informs. “I already feel comfortable telling this to you, sweetheart. Though I have to admit I’m loving what you said a little too much.”
Y/N frowns, “Wh-why do you have to say stupid shit like this? Can’t you just continue your story?”
“I have to say these because you’re being cute.” Y/N only frowns more. Yoongi chuckles, “Okay, okay, I’ll go back to my story.” He heaves out a sigh, “So, these Rina, Johnson, and Fei—well, they made me feel the efforts I put into studying will be pointless. That the dreams I have will be unattainable anyway because the world will never let them come true for people like me—not rich, not talented, not smart enough. And because of this mentality discouraging me whenever I try too hard, coupled with the messed-up confidence I had because of my first friendship circle, I turned out to be a…horrible speaker. But I think I shouldn’t blame them for this. I also have faults in this because after all, this is my life. Maybe I’m too easily swayed, easily discouraged, and too dependent on other’s company back then.”
“You’re right on that,” Y/N says, “but I think the people who have affected you to be what you were back then are rightfully justified to be blamed for. Or even deserve the greater blame. We’re teenagers and we do stupid things. And during our teenage years where we feel so confused about just everything, what mattered the most was the feeling of belongingness. The feeling of belonging to someone or something. This feeling gives us a way to identify ourselves and our purpose. Erik Erikson’s Stages of Psychosocial Development even say so. Yeah, we also have faults in ourselves that are worth blaming for and working on, but people are social beings. And most of the time, we become who we are because of other’s words, actions, and influence,” Y/N pulls her lips in an attempt to send him a comforting smile, “You don’t have to beat up yourself too much.”
“Whoa,” Yoongi gapes, “Just…wow.” He shakes his head, “I don’t even know what to say…And this is weird because I always know what to say,” Yoongi chuckles and Y/N follows suit. “I mean,” Yoongi tongues his cheek, “How did you come up with these?”
“Because I also experienced having friends like you had.”
You did?” It’s Yoongi’s turn to gawk at her.
“Yeah,” Y/N purses her lips. “It was in high school too. Even if I was lucky I skipped 8th and 9th grade, I wasn’t immune to toxic people. The friends I had in my first year, honestly…scar me until now. They downed me too many times, too, telling me I’m not that good, or I’m too intimidating for people would like to be with. They even called me annoying,” Y/N cackles. But her laugh soon dies down when she looks at Yoongi’s unamused look. “U-um,” She ducks her head down and fiddles with the seams of her blazer, “That’s not really funny, I’m sorry.”
“They’re not,” Yoongi deadpans, “Especially when it’s deprecating the person you should first and foremost care: You.”
Y/N’s head shoots up.
Yoongi lets a small smile grace over his face. “Go on with your story.”
“U-uh, yeah,” Y/N opts to play with her fingers this time, “So yeah, I ended up…downing myself, too. Berating and insulting myself even worse than those toxic people did. I even discouraged myself from even trying. I stopped myself before I even get to start at something that induces passion within me—dance, art, singing, whatever. I halt myself first before anyone can. Other’s words against me hurt me more than my own words. The only silver lining I had was when I got to 10th grade and met Mina,” Y/N grins. “Even if I still get reminded of the scars I got from my ex-friends, I’m grateful I also learned what’s it really like to have a friend for the first time.” Y/N turns to Yoongi, “What about you? Did you find at least…one friend before high school ended?”
“More than one actually,” Yoongi smiles. “I met three in 11th grade. Namjoon, Taehyung, and Jimin. Even if Namjoon graduated earlier, we three eventually met each other again in college. God, ever since I befriended those three, I never knew again what it’s like to be a loner. I know it’s kinda late that I get to enjoy high school but I had the most fun I could ever have in those last two years. Though college is still god-tier. That’s when I was really the happiest” Yoongi chuckles. He leans back in his chair and sighs, “Even if the majority of the memories our high school gave us were shit, I think it still tried its best to give everyone a memorable experience.” Yoongi smiles, “What’s a memorable experience you could thank the school for?”
Y/N opens her mouth but Yoongi quickly cuts her short, “And no, don’t say it’s meeting real friends. Other than that, any memorable experiences you had?”
Y/N looks to her right, brows scrunched, “Hmm…it had to be…Oh! The science expo held in our gym in our last year!”
“The expo? The one they held as our ‘field trip’—in our very last year of high school at that—because they ‘lack’ funds for an actual one?”
“Yeah,” Y/N smiles wide, “I actually enjoyed it a lot. There’s a large model of the Megalodon jaws wide open that you have to step into to enter the expo. Its teeth are so big and gosh, I love sharks. I love the documentaries about them. And oh, there’s also a bus that’s remodeled to have lab tables instead of seats. We get to look at microscopes magnifying different microorganisms and micro-things. It’s like a running test in chem but fun! And my favorite one had to be the astronomy tent-dome. I call it that because it’s a humongous black sheet of a tent that’s shaped to look like a dome. We had to crawl inside to get in. It reminded me of how I loved to play pillow forts in my room when I was a kid. And then inside, there’s someone there who actually works at NASA that plays the videos of constellations on the dome above us. And he’s amazing because he knows all the stars in the Milky Way! He even broke the myth concerning your birth month and Zodiac sign. The constellations of your Zodiac sign don’t usually appear during your ‘zodiac month’!”
“They don’t?”
“Yeah! I’m an Aries and yet the constellation most apparent in the sky during my month is Libra instead. I’ve never seen the Aries constellation before on my birthday. It’s always Libra. Okay, don’t look at me like I’m a hoe for Astrology—I’m not. I just fell in love with Astronomy after that expo and I ended up memorizing a lot of constellations and trying to point them out in the sky and—
“I’m not looking at you like you’re a ‘hoe for Astrology,’” Yoongi quotes, chuckling. “I’m looking at you because honestly, I’m amazed by you. Really. I never enjoyed that expo, because honestly, I like learning the actual stuff in real-time. But to have you spouting such mindblowing trivia and how you just talk so animatedly about it makes me want to time travel to that day and re-experience it. Really, you amaze me.
Y/N coughs into her hand, an attempt to out-volume the thrumming tinnitus she feels between her lungs. She pulls a tight smile and looks up at Yoongi, “What about you? What memorable experience did you have to thank high school for?”
“The prom,” Yoongi grins. “It’s my first time to be in such a glamorous setting that I instantly thought it would be my last time I could ever experience such pizzaz. Everyone looked so regal. There are ball gowns, luxurious suits, glittering decors, and lush carpeting I could spend years standing on just because it feels so pillowy soft beneath my feet. The venue had gothic pillars and renaissance paintings and rose-gold gilded chandeliers that hang above, looking like it hooked all the stars in the galaxy beneath its dangling diamonds. The food was great, too. I honestly couldn’t believe a public high school could afford this—well, there’s actually a lot of upper-middle-class families who pitched in some money but I only found out about this two weeks after the prom. Although we had a grad ball, it still couldn’t top 10th-grade prom. Sure, there’s a lot of people mingling and I’m too much of an introvert to enjoy socializing. But when I just sat and watch the party go, the picture in front of me looked so similar to the Yule Ball shown in the Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire movie and it’s just so fascinating. And—wait, why are you looking like that?”
“N-nothing,” Y/N shakes her head. She also hopes to shake away the utter wonder that must be obvious in her face. Mina always said she shows excitement so easily on her face.
And too bad Yoongi pushes her buttons so well that he could easily read her. “What ‘nothing’? You look so amazed as if you’ve never been to a prom—wait, you’ve never been to prom, haven’t you?”
There’s no point to lie otherwise. Y/N looks down at her lap and admits, “You’re right. I’ve never been to prom. Or even the grad ball.”
“Why?”
“Because I find them a waste of money. Hundreds of money for a dress you’ll never wear again and spend a couple more for the admission when you’re just gonna sit at the table for the whole time. The grad ball was an inconvenience because it’s set on the day before my birthday and of course, my birthday is worth celebrating more than the grad ball.” Yoongi chuckles at that and a small smile forms on Y/N’s lips. However, it quickly dissolves into a straight line as she continues, “And I didn’t go to prom because it’s stupid. The admission fee you have to pay is honestly over-priced. Of course, all of the payment won’t go to the rented place because the school is still gonna get a percentage from it. Then everyone is just gonna dance around and get wasted and you’ll just have to seat throughout the whole meltdown because you’re responsible and aside from that,” Y/N heaves out a huge sigh, “there’s a high probability you’ll bump into a horrible boy.”
“Oh!” Yoongi claps loudly, “A boy problem—!”
“I’m not gonna tell you his name,” Y/N points a finger at him. “It’s all in the past and, I’m just,” Y/N sighs, “well, over it.”
“What did he do?” Yoongi asks, tone soft, a lot less bombastic as his previous exclamation. “What did he do to—I don’t know, give up prom to avoid him?” He sits up straight and holds up his hands, “If you don’t mind me asking and if you feel okay to answer it, of course. If not, it’s also totally okay, and—”
“He gave me false hope,” Y/N deadpans, swirling the water in her glass. “I thought there’s something developing between us because he does an awful lot of sweet things for me like letting me lay my head on his shoulder whenever I need to catch on some sleep in our school service. He even helps me carry my things and walk me to class. Only for me to find out he actually likes another girl in our school service. I felt used. Like a ploy to get the girl he likes to be jealous of us.” Y/N sets her jaw on her palm. “And so, I didn’t go to prom. Because I know that girl will reject him when he asked for her first dance ‘cus she already got a mutual thing going on with her classmate. And I don’t want to be a second choice, a back-up plan someone will opt for when their first choice didn’t work out. I’m not going to be a reserve part for something someone built with a different part in mind.” Y/N takes a sip on her glass. She places it back on the table, “I still feel aggravation for him so I don’t want to hear his name again. But I’m over him now, so you don’t have to look at me like that.”
“L-like what?” Yoongi asks, pulling on the collar of his gray button-down.
“Like you’re angry for me. We’re not yet close to be feeling this way.”
“But we’re friends.”
�� “You’re the only one who decided on that label.”
“We are friends.”
“Whatever satisfies you of your delusions—”
“And because we’re friends, I could tell you wished you experienced prom.”
“W-what?” Y/N’s jaw drops.
Yoongi smiles at her, “You don’t have to hide it Y/N. I know you.” He stands up from his seat and offers a hand to her, “Now, let’s go.”
“Where are we going?” Y/N asks, still seated.
“We’ll dance.” Yoongi’s smile widens. “The Café Bistro has a wonderful live band playing and as you can see, there’s also a lot of people dancing to the lovely songs they’re playing…This is the closest setting we can have to a prom.”
Y/N gulps down a nervous breath as she looks up at Yoongi’s eyes. She takes his hand.
Yoongi leads her to the center of the slow-dancing throng of people. The live band plays in front of them, a group of wonderful men and women wearing elegant black gowns and suits, playing classical instruments to the music of popular love songs. Everything looks pleasant even if nothing about this set-up is grand. The couples are just in casual clothes but watching them have fun slow-dancing to the music feels like they’re actually in a ball. And the faux candles that hung above the Café Bistro doesn’t look like chandeliers in a Gothic palace anymore. They’re bright and glittering as if the café fished all the stars from the night sky to hang onto their own makeshift sky. Yoongi’s right. This indeed looks like a prom.
“Hmm, am I right now?”
Y/N turns to him and playfully pokes his shoulder, “Shut up.” A second no longer need to pass by when a huge smile makes its way onto Y/N’s face.
Y/N and Yoongi had their hands interlocked as they move to the rhythm. Yoongi initially proposed to have their hands and feet positioned for waltz only for Y/N to bump her head on his shoulder to get him to shut up. Yoongi only ends up cackling obnoxiously.
Stepping side to side, arms swaying by their sides, they look like two adult penguins waddling towards each other. When Y/N pointed this out, Yoongi bursts into another set of cackles.
However, when the song changes and A Thousand Years by Christina Perri starts to play, Yoongi’s chuckles instantly die down and a mindboggling statement escapes from his lips.
“Put your hands around my neck.”
“What? Are you fucking crazy?”
“Hey, the song is romantic.”
“So?” Y/N raises a brow, “What does it logically have to do with putting my arms around your neck? And also, this song is one hell of a cliché. A love song bulldozered and abused over and over again in every debut, wedding, and prom—”
“It’s played over and over again because a lot of people relate to it. Who wouldn’t? It talks about love.”
“Well, I wouldn’t.”
Yoongi sighs, “Look, all the couples here are slow dancing to this song and since we’re already posing as one, might as well copy them.”
“Well, I don’t wanna.”
“If you’re thinking this will be a revolutionary moment between us, I’m already informing you it won’t be. It’s just slow dancing,” Yoongi shrugs, “We did this in prom. It’s not that special, to be honest. I’m tryna offer you the prom experience, remember?”
Y/N focuses her eyes on the seams of her blazer, a petty frown on her face. “I’m positively sure we’ll look stupid if we slow dance so I’d rather not. In case you don’t know, I hate embarrassing myself.”
“Hey, you don’t get to sound so sure with your prediction when you haven’t tried it out yet. I’m just asking you if you would feel okay to slow dance with me. But if not, I will totally understand—”
Y/N loops her arms around Yoongi’s neck. “There,” she hisses, “Satisfied?”
“Very,” Yoongi grins, looping his arms around her frame, gently placing his hands on the back of her waist.
“Now shut up,” Y/N turns her face away from him. She could feel Yoongi so close. She could feel the breath he lets out comb past her hair. She could feel the warmth from his neck seemingly transfer onto her hands. His chest is just an inch apart from hers for him to discover the rapid beating reverberating there ever since this day started. Y/N closes her eyes and sighs. She doesn’t understand why she’s feeling this way. She chucks it down to the theory that it’s just been a long day. She’s astounded to learn Yoongi was her high school batchmate, then Myungsoo turned up and made her frustrated, and now she’s practically having fun because Yoongi offered an entire 180 from her previous emotional state.
But maybe it’s also because it’s been so long since Y/N received physical intimacy. It’s been ages she felt a warmth from another person’s touch. She couldn’t even remember being so enthralled just because someone platonically wanted to dance with her. But then, it could just be her desire to get over these ten dates required by DRM speaking for her body. The sooner the better they say and as of now, she’s nailing down their third date document.
Y/N knows this must be the answer when the night deepens and the band plays the last song for the night. After receiving a pale pink envelope from the sweet manager, the night dwindles fast to where she is now: walking home, side by side with Yoongi. She thought there was a reason Yoongi picked a date site that would require them to take a train first. She just didn’t expect she will get the answer to this when Yoongi offered to walk her home. ‘It just a ten-minute walk from here,’ Yoongi insisted. And right now, it looks like he’s right because it’s only a matter of time until they reach the entrance of the Village Estates.
“So, we’re here now,” Yoongi says, sliding his hands into his coat pockets.
“Yeah,” Y/N smiles back. Then she perks up, suddenly remembering something, “By the way, how come did you know about Café Bistro?”
Yoongi leans toward her, face leveling hers. “We work for a travel magazine, Y/N. Of course, we should know about this stuff. Our Writing Department even did a feature about it.” Y/N’s brows shoot up. Yoongi leans back, putting space between them again, “I’ve been wondering ever since we got in as to why you looked so amazed at the Bistro as if it’s your first time seeing something like that. And now I know why. It is indeed your first time. You’ve never been to a lot of tourist spots before, much less even those near you.”
“No. I’ve been to a lot, actually,” Y/N lies through her mouth.
“I don’t think so,” Yoongi quips. Y/N frowns. Yoongi’s smile widens, “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll take you to places you’ve never been before.”
His gaze on her was not teasing, nor was it mischievous. And Y/N decides she doesn’t like it when she can’t tell the look in his eyes. She takes a step back and clears her throat. “Goodnight, Yoongi,” she bids, and then she starts for the entrance.
Just when the peace of the night is about to settle on her, Yoongi, of course, decides to break it one last time.
“I had fun tonight, girlfriend! Or should I say girl-friend?”
Y/N continues with her steps, raising a middle finger in his direction. Yoongi laughs and that’s the last sound Y/N hears for the night as she enters her empty flat.
A text from Mina says she’s going home in an hour. After preparing her bestfriend a midnight snack just in case she’s still hungry, Y/N turns on the lights on their hallway and resigns herself in her room. Picking the date document from her bag and the other two on her counter, Y/N plops onto her bed, holding up the pale pink envelopes above her face. It’s been a while since she had fun collecting these pretty envelopes. When she first encountered these date documents five years ago, she thought they were silly. But as she twirls them under the light of her room, she thinks they’re actually genius. After all, attention and quality time spent together are good measures to see if a couple is really dating.
“We just need seven more,” Y/N whispers, closing her eyes. As the starless night grows darker outside her window, the coffee-stained scent of today��s pale pink envelope lulls Y/N to sleep with a smile on her face.
DAY 5 — January 30; Thursday
Y/N is at her wit’s end. It’s already 12 in the noon and nothing terrible has happened yet. It’s Thursday. Thursdays are supposed to already have it bad for her the moment the day starts. But Y/N woke up feeling nice from a good night’s sleep. It was early so she had a fun breakfast with her bestfriend where they spent an extra half-hour talking about each other’s dates. Though it sounded more like Mina’s the only one who went to an actual date because Y/N spent the majority of her turn to speak ranting about Yoongi’s smugness and whatnot. The train wasn’t crowded when she commuted to work. She and Mina even managed to get seats at seven. And in the office, nothing unwanted has happened yet. Well, of course, there’s Yoongi who still won’t stop sending her weird texts and occasional winks. Everything is okay and normal as usual until—
“Hey, Y/N, wanna have lunch with us?”
Y/N turns in her swivel chair and there standing by the Accounting’s glass door were three people. Dana Lee, Jeff Anderson, and Ahn Seojoon.
Dana continues, smiling at her, “If you didn’t have lunch yet, of course.”
Y/N whirls to face Mina before turning around back to Dana, forehead furrowed, “I’m sorry, Dana, Mina and I already have—”
“No, Y/N hasn’t lunched yet!”
Y/N whips her head to her bestfriend. Mina smiles at her, “Y/N, you should go ahead.”
Y/N sighs, “But Mina, you would be alone today. We always eat lunch together. And aren’t you supposed to tell me more of what happened in the show you’re watching?”
Mina claps her friend’s shoulder, “Y/N, it’s alright. We see each other in and outside the office every day. We can just talk later when you get home. Or tomorrow if you end up having another date tonight with Yoongi. After all, you told me before you want to have more friends in the office. Well, here is the chance!”
“What chance are you talking about? And when the hell did I say I want more friends—”
“Dana,” Mina hollers, “Y/N said she’ll go!”
This chance, however, was not what Y/N expected it to be. Because now, Y/N finds herself in some Mexican restaurant with three pairs of curious eyes focused on her and an unexpected guest sitting beside her.
Y/N crosses her arms. “You didn’t tell me Yoongi would be here.”
“Well, surprise?” Jeff shrugs.
“We figured since you and Mr. Min are…really close, why not invite him?” Seojoon explains.
“So,” Dana twirls her straw around her smoothie, “what’s the thing between you and Yoongi?”
Y/N perks up in her seat. Jeff gawks at Dana. “Why did you have to be so straightforward about it?”
“So we can finally get the answers we’ve all been waiting for,” Dana says matter-of-factly. “For one year these two are like oil and water. And then this week they’ve become chummy-chummy. I always knew there’s something going on between you two but I can never point it out. And now that you two decided to come out in the open, I guess I can also finally get my answers.” She turns back to Y/N, “So, what are you two really?”
“Yoongi’s my, um, special friend—”
“Y/N’s my girlfriend—”
Dana’s brows twitch. Yoongi quickly reaches over to pinch Y/N’s cheeks, “Oh sweetheart, you don’t need to feel so shy anymore. We’re no longer special friends so start feeling comfy to call yourself my girlfriend.”
Seojoon coughs into his hand. Dana and Jeff slowly nod. Jeff leans forward, “So…how did you two meet?”
“In high school. We’re kinda friends—”
“In the office. It’s love at first sight—”
Y/N eyes Yoongi. Yoongi grins. Y/N looks back at Jeff, but not without pinching Yoongi’s leg to stop him from spouting any more bullshit. Y/N smiles, “Yoongi and I met back in high school. We were batchmates.”
“Oh, high school sweethearts!” Seojoon claps, grinning.
“Not necessarily,” Y/N says, “We just kinda knew each other back then. And then we met each other again in Travel Loca.”
“I see,” Dana holds her chin, as if in thought, “You two sure looked like you’ve known each other for so long…You know each other so well that you get to hit each other’s flaws so accurately whenever you bicker. Right?” Dana looks at Y/N.
“Right,” Y/N grins. She unconsciously gulps down a nervous chuckle. “I-it wouldn’t make sense if we insult each other so well when we don’t know each other for a long time right? More even, fall in love?”
From the corner of her eye, Y/N could see Yoongi’s head tilt, lips pursed together. It’s his face when he’s about to voice disagreement. She pinches his leg again to get him back to his senses.
“Ye-yeah,” Yoongi stutters, “You must know a person for a long time before you can insult them well. Or love them.”
Dana and Jeff nod their heads slowly, looking convinced. Except for Seojoon. The intern shakes his head, “I think not. You don’t need to know a person for a long time to fall in love. Or to even insult them. Hate or love—it just happens.”
“Yeah,” Jeff agrees. “I think this felt more right. It doesn’t really require you long to hate another person for some unexplainable reason. Or fall in love with them.”
“How did you know about this?” Y/N asks, clicking her tongue.
Jeff looks unbothered by the questioning look on Y/N’s face. He leans back in his seat with a smile, “Because that’s how my girlfriend and I got together. We only knew each other for three weeks and it didn’t take me a day longer to know I’m whipped for her. In those three weeks, we even spent the first week really hating each other bad,” Jeff chuckles, “We used to scream at each other for hours across the windows of our apartments.”
The furrows in Y/N’s forehead deepen, “B-but, how did you love her when you just hated her a week ago?”
“Because love and hate have a lot of similarities,” Jeff says. “I think there’s a fine line between such differing emotions. People say it’s an end-to-end spectrum but I think that spectrum may not be as long as people make it out to be. I think they’re just two ends that sit opposite to each other. Anyone can cross from one to another and vice versa so easily. Kinda explains why you can love someone while also hating them a bit. And why you can hate or love something for so long and not consider changing your stance. Even if love is just a bridge away, its whole argument opposes the argument of hate. That’s why it feels the spectrum of love is a very long road to take—a wall too high to reach, making it hard for transitioning from one end to another. But, I don’t know,” Jeff shrugs, grinning. “Life is complex. Sometimes love and hate…just happens.”
Seojoon and Dana nod slowly. However, Y/N feels otherwise. ‘Easy and hard to cross’? ‘It just happens’? What kind of nonsense is this—Y/N opens her mouth to argue—If not for Yoongi clasping a hand around her shoulders and urging her to stand up from her seat, “I’ll think we’ll order more tacos for us. My treat. We’ll be real quick.”
Yoongi drags Y/N to the line forming in front of the cashier. When they’re a couple of steps away from the group, Y/N shrugs his arms away from her shoulders. She glares at him, “What do you think are you doing?”
Yoongi tongues his cheek, “I should be the one asking you that! What do you think are you doing there? Trying to argue with my friends about something so trivial like Jeff’s perception of love? It’s his views, let him be!”
Y/N crosses her arms, “Jeff is spouting nonsense. I just felt the need to correct him.”
“How would you know Jeff is spouting nonsense? You’re not the one who fell in love with his neighbor he used to scream at across his flat.”
Y/N looks down at her shoes, “Okay…I’m sorry. I know, I know, I’m being a bitch again.”
Yoongi gapes at her, “W-wait, are you apologizing? You? The great Y/N L/N?”
Y/N whips her head to him, pinning him with a glare, “Why? You think I’m incapable of apologizing?”
“Nope,” Yoongi quips, smiling, “I’m just thinking how fast you grew. It was just two days ago you’re struggling so hard to apologize. Now, you just easily admitted to your mistake. I’m proud of you.”
Y/N’s jaw goes slack. “Are you saying I’m an unapologetic bastard to everyone before?”
“To me actually,” Yoongi corrects. “But that was back then. You’re quite…more okay now.”
Y/N gawks at him in disbelief. But before she could utter another counter-statement, Yoongi’s already in front of the cashier, ordering for another platter of tacos. When they got back to their seats, the past conversation seems to have already dissipated. Yoongi starts the conversation this time about what they used to do in high school and college and soon enough, their table is erupting with giggles and high-pitched ‘Oh no you didn’t!” Y/N learned Jeff used to study in an art school. Seojoon used to join competitive pep squad rallies in college. And, Dana chose Travel Loca from a lot of tempting job offers because like Y/N, Dana likes Nancy’s vision for travel journalism as a travel-enthusiast like herself. Likewise, the three were enthusiastic in knowing Y/N—how she managed to skip two years of high school, her one-sided love for music because she cannot, for the life of her, play even a single instrument, and how she has so many random facts about the flower language, color theories, cooking techniques—hell even some trivia about the praying mantis—all because of reading a lot of books. Yoongi even chipped in of how great she can turn scenarios in a completely different one just because of her creative way of seeing things, to which Y/N blushes. The memory of their fast food drive-in date oddly makes her insides queasy.
It’s been a while since Y/N felt she belonged to a group that values her skills and preferences. Moreover, to have Yoongi be so generous in hyping her up whenever it’s her turn to speak makes her feel a blanket of warmth is surrounding her. A warmth much heart-fluttering than the one provided by his arm embracing her shoulder and his occasional hand-holding. When she first felt his pinky reaching for hers, Y/N’s first instinct was to move away. But the tingling heat creeping onto her cheeks oddly makes her not want to let go. Moreso when Yoongi finally envelops her whole hand with his larger one.
Y/N doesn’t know how long they last like that but when Yoongi moves to disentangle himself from her, Y/N feels the warmth in her chest fade too fast than she liked. She turns to him curious, before her eyes glance at the wall clock of the restaurant in the corner. It’s already one forty-five. She didn’t know the time has passed so fast. Yoongi gets up from his seat, “You can go ahead outside. I’ll just get something from the cashier.”
Y/N looks at him with a questioning gaze. Nevertheless, she turns back to her seat and wordlessly follows Dana, Jeff, and Seojoon as they exit the restaurant. Once outside, Dana suddenly turns toward her.
“You and Mr. Min look like you’re still newbies in dating.”
Y/N’s eyes widen, “U-uh, how did you say so?”
“Because you two look like you’re still tiptoeing around each other whenever one initiates some skinship,” Dana shrugs. “Don’t worry. It’s always like that at the start of a relationship.”
“Yeah. You two might want to start transferring the intensity in your eyes to some physical touchy-touching,” Seojoon suggests, only to get playfully hit on the head by Jeff. Seojoon rubs the sore spot, “What? I’m just saying the truth! It’s normal to crave physical intimacy. Touching and being near someone you love is an inherent need!”
“Yeah, but they’re just starting, Seojoon,” Jeff reiterates. He turns to Y/N, “Why don’t you try going to a bar?”
“A bar?” Y/N asks, eyes wide.
“Yeah, a bar. There’s a nice one along 11th Avenue. Neo-Cloud 9. Great place and drinks, cheap price. Oh, and amazing music. Their DJs don’t play the typical LSD-inducing club music. You two need to loosen up, you know? It’s not good to always hole yourselves at work. And also,” a Cheshire smile grows on Jeff’s lips, “Yoongi loves to drink alcohol after a long day. He just seems like the bar-type of a guy.”
Before Y/N can ask what he means, the door of the restaurant swings open. Yoongi grins at them, “Let’s get going now.” The three nod and walk ahead, Jeff and Seojoon laughing about something again with Dana playfully hitting them to tell them to shut up.
Yoongi walks ahead of Y/N to turn around and walk backward on the pavement, facing the girl. Y/N raises a brow at him.
Yoongi grins and pulls out a pale pink envelope before falling back into step with her. “I thought of asking for a date document since we’re quite being handsy in there. Good thing the cashier saw it, too. Even said we’re cute for being shy in holding each other’s hands.” Yoongi wiggles his brows, smirking. “Didn’t know we’re being cute, sweetheart.”
“…Yeah,” Y/N looks away, lips pursed.
“Are you sure you want to date here?”
The street is bustling alive. Neon signs hang from all walls and awnings. Street arts bask in matte or glow-in-the-dark spray paint. The smell of alcohol, cigarette stench, and the delicious smell of sizzling plates compound together and yet it isn’t acrid to the nose; it’s oddly alluring. All the stars in the sky seem to have fallen down on the streets because all sorts of lights try to illuminate every inch of the pavement. It’s 11th Avenue. The place with different people from all sorts of places. Foreigners and locals piling in different corners. There are people who look newly-legal, celebrating their privilege in reaching 21. And there are some dressed over-the-top, ready to spend the whole night getting wasted. Bands of friends also jump into the mix, hoping to have fun clubbing and drinking and maybe meeting someone new. And there are also people who look like they’ve just gotten off from work. Like them.
Y/N turns to Yoongi, unbuckling her seat belt. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
The interior of Neo-Cloud 9 is far from its name. Y/N expected to have all sorts of pleasure-in-bottles lined up like the perfect temptation, a pit filled with heavenly decors and people, a place you wouldn’t want to get out of. But what she only gets is a classic bar and club, walls painted in grey softened by the bright moving lights. A marble-black bar stands in the right corner containing all sorts of imaginable liquor. The floor is carpeted in starry black, and the seats and booths are covered in lush-looking leather. There are people in dressy suits seated comfy in their faux silver tables in one corner, and there are some moving to the beat on the dance floor. But the bar doesn’t look wild or something that could scream fantastical luxury, much less ‘Cloud 9.’ Jeff must be right. This looks like a good place with good drinks, all for a cheap price.
It doesn’t take long for Y/N to find themselves seated in a booth, a footed pilsner of mojito in front of her a shot glass and a bottle of tequila in front of Yoongi.
Y/N takes small sips of her drink. Yoongi downs a shot. He picks up the lime on the plate and chews on it. When he’s finished a piece of his chaser, he looks at Y/N. “Why did you want to go here?”
“Well…I’ve never been to a bar before.”
“You’ve never been to a bar?” Yoongi gawks, placing his glass down on the table. “Like, ever?”
“Nope.” Y/N places her glass on the table and looks at Yoongi, “And I’ve never drunk any alcohol before.”
“This is your first time?”
“Yup. My parents told me not to drink while I’m studying. And coincidentally, I’ve never liked the concept of drinking so…good for them. I’ve never liked parties and places like this.”
“Then why did we go here?”
“Because Jeff told me you like to drink.”
“I do like drinking,” Yoongi nods, “but I wouldn’t insist to go here if you never liked places like this.”
“Yeah, I don’t like places like this. But it doesn’t hurt to get at least experience from it, right?” Y/N raises her brows and sips on her glass.
Silence fills the space between them. Y/N orders another glass of mojito. And another. Yoongi warns her she might get drunk too fast. /N disagrees and the stable tone in her voice supports her argument. Meanwhile, Yoongi had already tried raising a conversation topic about five times now. “Another person to rant about in high school?” “Any memories of childhood?” “What got you into loving writing?”—hell, he even tried to pick a fight by bringing up Y/N’s predicament under Nancy, but all of them ended in conversational dead-ends. Either Y/N answers in replies designed for the finality of a conversation, or she switches the topic to a trivial one, such as what he thinks of Kylie Jenner’s plastic surgeries. What only seems to pass through were shallow one-worded answer questions.
“Uno or Monopoly?”
“Uno.”
It’s even fortunate if Yoongi could get Y/N to expand her answer.
“Would you rather be a…book or a car?”
“What does that even mean?” Y/N cackles.
“Just answer!”
“Okay, a book!”
But it’s fine for him. It’s better than having nothing.
“Okay, do you dislike…being sweaty?”
“Nope. You?”
“Also no,” Yoongi chuckles. He crosses his arms on the table, “Do you like to play crane games in arcades?”
“Hmm, yes…But only if someone will win it for me. I suck at it. And it’s a waste of money, too,” Y/N bites on a chip. “What about you? Do you like playing it?”
“Not if I’m alone. If I had somebody with me, I sure like it. I love feeling somebody getting thrilled with me.”
Y/N looks down at her glass. She traces its rim with a finger, “We’ve already got four date documents.”
“Yeah,” Yoongi brings up his glass to his mouth. “But why are you suddenly bringing it up?”
“Just clarifying what we’re here for.”
Yoongi’s hand stills.
Y/N sighs, “We have to keep our eyes on the goal, okay? After all, we’re just doing this stuff to get approved for the PRS-change.” Y/N focuses her eyes on her hands, “We’re doing okay with the date documents. But we need to worry about the accounts of our relationship witnesses. I’ve only got Mina and of course, Ms. Teddy. But that’s only two. We need eight more—”
“We only need five more,” Yoongi places down his glass on the table, “We’ve already got Dana, Jeff, and Seojoon roped in, too. Actually, four more, because Ms. Yoona already believes we’re into each other the day I re-introduced you. We already have six.”
“How are you sure about that?”
“Didn’t Ms. Yoona bid you good luck with me?”
Y/N’s jaw falls slack. “H-how did you know that? I-I thought you only heard Jeff and Seojoon that night?”
“I was already standing near the door. Of course, I heard everything. That’s why I know you’re denying we’re into each other. Put us up to fail,” Yoongi meets her eyes, “Again.”
Y/N stares at him.
“We’ve already got Dana, Seojoon, and Jeff for sure. Dana was asking me earlier about the intimacy in the break room yesterday. Seojoon and Jeff eat up any gossip Dana feeds them. Plus, those three are my friends. So if we’ll need to be desperate, I can put up an act and request them to write for us.” Yoongi looks away and downs a shot, “But I think what we did in the restaurant was already enough. I don’t know what other act could be more convincing than that.”
Y/N hums. After that, silence again. It doesn’t last long though, not until her 5th order of mojito is placed on their table. But instead of uttering a word, Y/N makes a move to snatch the shot glass of tequila in front of Yoongi.
“What are you doing?” Yoongi raises a brow, placing his glass farther away from her reach.
Y/N only continues to make grabby hands at him. “I’ve only been drinking cocktails this whole night. Wanna taste some hard liquor, too, y’know?”
“Y/N,” Yoongi sighs, “You’re gonna get drunk. Your house is far from here.”
“So?” Y/N tilts her head. “You borrowed Steven’s car tonight. You’re gonna drive me home anyway. Drunk or not.”
“Yeah, but you told me earlier Mina is gonna sleep over at Mark’s. And I cannot carry you up to your apartment—should you get drunk— because if you’re wasted, you cannot confirm to your security you actually know me if I were to help you get in your flat. And that won’t ever happen because not in a million years will I carry your fat ass in any possible chance—”
“Yaddah, yaddah, blah, blah, blah,” Y/N leans forward on the table. “You always have something to say, no, Yoongi?”
Yoongi clicks his tongue. “As if you’re not also like that.”
“You don’t need to worry,” Y/N waves off. “Surprisingly, I’m not yet drunk. See?”
Yoongi gulps. It’s hard to argue otherwise if Y/N knows she indeed looks and sounds very sober.
“So,” Y/N reaches for his shot glass again, “why can’t you just let me have a taste of tequila? It’s my first time after all. I just wanna experience what I’ve missed on during high school and college.”
That’s all it takes for Yoongi to sigh and finally relent. Soon enough, Y/N is almost bouncing on her seat as she triumphantly places the tequila-filled shot glass in front of her. With a grin, Y/N picks a lime on the saucer and hovers it above her drink and—
Yoongi catches her elbow. “That’s not how you do it.” He scoots across the booth to sit next to her. He gets the lime from her hands, “You don’t drop the lime in your drink like you’re trying to make lime water. You dip your hand in salt first and suck it.” He pushes the plate of salt towards her.
Y/N looks at him funny. Yoongi rolls his eyes. “You said this is your first time drinking. I’m just trying to teach you how it’s supposed to go so it would taste better. Look,” Yoongi points to her shot glass, “the tequila is distilled so it has a high percentage of alcohol. It’s a hard liquor and will definitely make a different burn in your throat than your mojitos. The salt is gonna lessen that burn. Now, just dip a finger in the salt and suck it.”
Y/N gives him one more suspicious look but follows nevertheless.
“Now, take a shot of your tequila.”
Y/N smiles, placing the rim of the glass on her lips. She closes her eyes and tilts her head back, downing the drink in one go. When she looks back at Yoongi, indeed, a different burn is lining down her throat. It felt like someone lit a match inside her esophagus and let the flame lick the muscles and nerves of her neck.
Before Y/N could let her jaw drop and ask Yoongi what the fuck did she just take in, Yoongi places the slice of lime next to her lips. “Bite on the lime.” She looks at him. Yoongi’s shoulder is brushing next to hers. He’s leaning close to her, face hovering hers. Just an inch more and her nose will graze the tip of his nose. He’s also got his hand close on her face. She could feel his thumb almost brush her lips as he holds the lime in front of her. And his eyes—Y/N tears her gaze from him. She snatches the lime from his hand and bites on it.
Yoongi pulls away, chuckling, “See? It tasted much better now. The sourness of lime balances and enhances the flavor of tequila.”
Y/N only nods.
They spend the rest of the night with Yoongi teaching her different terms in drinking, and her trying out sips of the drinks Yoongi orders for himself. It was all okay. Y/N’s having fun, learning and enjoying the drinks. It’s a wonder she’s still sober considering it’s her first time drinking and she’s already got a couple of drinks down her system. Her eyes are still steady, her posture stable. Heck, her voice even sounds as if it a minute has only passed since they entered Neo-Cloud 9.
“C’mon, Yoongi, let’s dance.”
Yoongi should have not been over-confident in his perceptions. The moment Y/N steps out from her side, she stumbles toward him, almost completely faceplanting on his chest.
“Y/N,” Yoongi pushes her up, “You’re drunk. Fuck, I told you you’re gonna get drunk. I think we should head home now—”
“No! Wanna dance, Min Yoongi!” Y/N suddenly stands upright, almost tripping on her shoes. She grins, “Let’s just do one song and after that Imma go home. Please, Yoongi?”
“Y/N—”
“Please, Yoongiiiii?” Y/N clasps her hands together, “Pleassseee?”
“Y/N—”
“Just one song! Or else I would call you mean Yoongi from now on,” she crosses her arms, “Just one is all I’m asking. Wanna experience that party feel for the very first time. We don’t even have to do a rave dance. We can just slow dance if you like!”
This is the reason why Yoongi finds himself dancing something akin to waltz to a song about partying as if it’s 2012. It’s not that bad, though. Not when he’s not alone dancing un-synced to the song with Y/N almost completely hanging on his limbs like a sloth. Some occasional seconds, she even gets the audacity to place her head on his chest. Yoongi cannot help but pull a small smile on his lips.
The lights above the dance floor are in the colors of sunset and dawn and they move and merge like cells undergoing mitosis. It feels simultaneously alienating and comforting and Y/N isn’t really sure if she likes it or not. She just feels warm all over. Warm in her toes. Warm in her belly. Warm in her throat. Warm in her hands. Warm in her chest. Just…warm. Too comfortingly warm and she doesn’t know if it’s all just thanks to the alcohol.
“Hey, Y/N, the song is about to end now.”
“Just one more,” Y/N mutters. She places her head against his shoulder.
Yoongi hums. The song finally changes. A few beats in and Y/N stops in her tracks. It’s The Louvre by Lorde.
But lover, you’re the one to blame, all that you’re doing
Can you hear the violence?
Megaphone to my chest.
Y/N looks up. Yoongi’s face is above her, almost hovering hers. The warm sunset-colored lights pass over his features, highlighting the seeming stylishness of his unkempt hair, the small existent ridges on his plump cheeks, and the soft-looking curve of his lips that’s more often than not pulled to the side to tease her. But tonight, he’s just smiling, and his lips look so soft under the pink light. His hand covering hers felt so big and yet unnervingly un-foreign. It’s only calming. His eyes are soft, gentle, dare she say warm even.
And for one second, it didn’t seem the calming warmth she was feeling was because of the alcohol. Because the warmth she feels is akin to the soothing radiance of early mornings. Warm like the heat between hand-held mugs shared over a small table with knees bumping next to each other. Warm like the tepid comfort a thick blanket provides to counter the thunderstorm incessantly knocking on the window panes. Warm like the lukewarm water of a hot tub one prepares after coming home from a long day at work. It’s hot, but not too hot to immediately withdraw a finger from.
It wasn’t the alcohol anymore because the warmth she feels comes from Yoongi. She knows for sure because when her hand withdraws from his skin, the calming warmth that has surrounded her immediately dissipates.
The realization dawns on her and suddenly, Y/N feels her throat is being laced up close. A choked out sob, and Y/N is hunching over, form minimizing on the floor as she tries to wheeze out a sharp breath.
“Y/N! What’s wrong? Are you okay?!” Yoongi panics. He holds her close to him, arms looping around her figure to keep her upright next to him. But Y/N shakily pushes him away.
Arms-width away from him, hands clutching tightly on his shoulders, Y/N looks up at him. “Yoongi, you have to stop being like this.”
“L-like what? Holding you to not let you fall over?”
“No,” Y/N shakes her head. “You have to stop trying to get so close to me.”
Yoongi stops.
Y/N lets out a staggered breath. “Just, please don’t, Yoongi.”
“Y/N—”
A tear slips from her eyes. “I can’t fall one more time, Yoongi. I’ve had enough already. I can’t…I can’t take another one. So please…don’t cross anymore of the space I put between us. Or even let me do the same. You can insult me whatever you want, just,” Y/N lets out a broken sigh, “don’t do this to me. Please.”
No words are exchanged after that. Y/N lets herself in the car. Yoongi follows suit. The night goes on devoid of any sound save for the revving of the engine. When they pull out from the colorful streets of 11th Avenue, the distant pink lights of Neo-Cloud 9 become Y/N’s last memory as she slumps her head against the car window. Soon enough, the world goes black. Her breaths finally even out.
DAY 6 – January 31; Friday
When Y/N peels her eyes open, a rounded moon-looking light fixture set on a powder blue ceiling is the first thing she sees. The second thing that enters her vision is the white bedside table on her left. She’s never seen these things before. Y/N sits up in a jolt. White wooden cabinets, a metal gray desk, black office swivel chair, light grey faux wooden tiles—these are definitely not in her room. She instantly looks down on her body. A white and blue striped pajama. Panic starts to rise in her stomach. Where the fuck am I—
The door bursts open and a head of a male she’s never seen before pops up. He smiles at her. “Oh, you’re finally awake. You can take a shower now. Yoongi’s just finished showering. Your clothes are already on the hangers in the bathroom. Mom’s got them washed and pressed already.” The man walks away only to come back as if he’s forgotten something. “Oh yeah, we’re also having breakfast so…come join us when you’re done?” The furrows on Y/N’s forehead deepen. The man beams, “O-oh, and I’m Yoongi’s brother, Jeongguk.”
Yoongi? Jeongguk? Why is Yoongi’s brother inviting her for breakfast when she hasn’t even heard of him before—Y/N freezes. The answer finally dawns upon her and Y/N could only internally pull all the hair off her head. Oh my god, what the hell am I doing in Yoongi’s home?!
Twenty minutes later and Y/N finds herself in a circular table with the very question in her head the first thing uttered out when she sits on her chair.
“So Y/N,” Yoongi’s father smiles at her, “How did you end up here?”
“Um—”
“Dad, I thought already told you yesterday?” Yoongi interrupts. Y/N looks at the man across her. He looks like he didn’t dry himself well. The ends of his hair are still wet. There’s also a damp spot on the chest area of the white crew-neck shirt he’s wearing under his navy blazer. Y/N gulps. She should not let her eyes linger on that damp spot for too long.
“Yeah, son, I know,” Yoongi’s father chuckles as he slices into his scrambled eggs. He turns to Y/N. “I’m just messing with you, dear.”
“Y-yeah. I totally understand, Mr. Min,” Y/N tries to chuckle.
“Oh, don’t call me that. Just call me ‘dad.’ We’re gonna get close anyway.”
Yoongi’s eyes bulge out. “What the hell—Dad!”
Mr. Min laughs. “I’m just joking! Call me Yoonhyuk.”
Y/N smiles politely, “Okay…Yoonhyuk.”
“My, Yoongi,” Yoongi’s mother claps a hand on her son’s shoulder, “You seem really tense. You’re reverting back into your old high school self.”
“Mom!”
“Excuse my son,” Yoongi’s mother smiles at Y/N. “He used to be really tense and timid all over. Habits do really die hard. Anyway, just call me Ji-an, too. Oh, and I’m the one who changed your clothes last night so no need to worry. I just thought letting you sleep in your work clothes may be too uncomfortable. You looked like you really needed a good rest last night.”
“It’s alright. Thank you so much, Ms. Mi—Ji-an,” Y/N smiles. Ms. Min returns a bigger charming smile. Y/N figures Yoongi’s smile must have taken after his mother’s.
Breakfast continues on as if it was just another breakfast in the Min family. Having Yoongi’s past already brought up, Mr. Min continues on with a story of an awkward fourteen-year-old Yoongi sweating over just practicing how to give their plate of chow mien to their neighbor. Jeongguk even pitched in of how his older brother was such a wimp way back when they were kids. He said it was a wonder how Yoongi always manages to win every game when he’s always the one running like a ‘waddling duck.’ Until a year later they found out it was all thanks to the cheats Yoongi has collected. Everyone erupts into laughter. Even Yoongi who’s sulking the whole time finally breaks into cackles.
Y/N can’t remember the last time she had breakfast this lively. Well, she and Mina do share fun breakfasts too. But with the two of them rarely having enough time to cook meals in the morning, table breakfasts are reserved for special days. Their breakfasts usually come through sandwiches they munch on quickly at a small, cheap café near the office. Now, she’s having breakfast with people she’s never met before, and yet, a comfortable warmth settles over her, making her feel las if she’s meeting people she had long been friends with. The feeling is strange, but Y/N decides she’s more than welcome to entertain it.
The breakfast ends sooner than Y/N would like to admit and it isn’t by long she bids her goodbyes to the Min family after she finishes helping Ms. Min clean up. She expresses her gratitude once more to Mr. and Mrs. Min before following Yoongi to the car.
When they pull away from the driveway, Yoongi finally says his first words of the day to her. “I’m sorry you may have been shocked this morning. I drove you to your apartment but I wasn’t able to get you into your flat because you don’t have your keys. The security stationed doesn’t know alternative access and the admin’s office was long closed. So, I have no other option but to drive you home with me. Well, you were actually the one who insisted to drive you to my home, so yeah, here we are.”
“I…insisted to go to your home?”
Yoongi looks at her, “You don’t remember?”
“Yah, Y/N, stop messing with my hair,” Yoongi huffs as he tries to balance the girl latched onto his back while rummaging through her bag for her keys.
“I’m not messing it up. I’m styling it!” Y/N grabs two handfuls of hair. Yoongi nearly topples onto the floor from the hard tug on his scalp. Y/N only squeals, “See? You look like Garu now! Not Pucca. You only smile when you’re smug!”
“Y/N, stop messing with me,” Yoongi grits, hands frantically turning all the items in the woman’s bag over and over again. “Fuck, there’s no keys. Y/N, where the hell did you put your keys?”
“I don’t knoooow.”
Y/N starts to slip on his back. Before he could hoist her up though, the girl locks her elbows around his neck, knocking the wind out of his windpipe. Yoongi didn’t know what getting strangled really feels like until now. Y/N giggles, “Oh, I know now! I slipped it in in my pouch! The one with my ballpens. I think I must have left it in the office because I’m not yet done with my report when we went off…”
Yoongi drags a hand over his face, “Fuck. What the hell will I do with you now?”
Y/N props her head on his shoulder and grins, “Take me home to your home?”
Yoongi gapes at Y/N. “You seriously don’t remember?”
Y/N slowly shakes her head, “I don’t.”
Yoongi plops Y/N back onto the passenger’s seat before he sits himself back into the driver’s seat. The moment Yoongi drives away from the 27th street, Y/N decides it’s a brilliant idea to latch herself onto the man’s arm.
“Y/N, what the hell are you doing?” Yoongi tries to gently pull his arm away from her. Y/N only keeps her grip on him and decides to put her head on his shoulder. Yoongi sighs in defeat.
“I’m being happy!” Y/N grins, “You and I are gonna have a sleepover!”
“This is not a sleepover,” Yoongi gives her a pointed look, “You’re drunk and I’m just being a Good Samaritan letting you stay over in my house because your poor ass got nowhere to go.”
“Doesn’t matter. It’s still a sleepover because we’ll sleep in your room.”
“I am NOT letting you sleep in my room. You’re gonna sleep on the couch.”
Y/N’s eyes grow wide, “No! We’re gonna sleep in your room! Friends sleep in one room during sleepovers.”
“So now, you’re finally admitting we’re friends?” Yoongi smirks. He doesn’t know why he’s letting this pointless conversation go on when the person he’s speaking to is just running on autopilot. But when Y/N looks at him in complete focus and opens her mouth, Yoongi can’t help but anticipate for what she has to say.
“Why?” Y/N tilts her head, “Aren’t we already friends? Weren’t you the one who kept bugging me about it?”
Yoongi looks away and keeps his eyes ahead, “Well…yeah.”
“Then why won’t you let me sleep in your room?”
Yoongi clicks his tongue, “Just because.”
“Is it because you hate me?”
“No, it’s not because of that.”
“Then, is it because I annoyed you today?”
“Well, you did annoy me. A lot.” Yoongi sighs, “Okay, a bit. A teeny, tiny bit. But, it’s also not because of that.”
“Then what is it?” Y/N whines.
Yoongi doesn’t answer.
“Is it because I’m supposed to actually rat on any mistake of your team to Nancy?”
Still silence.
“Then…is it because I’m ugly?”
Yoongi whips his head toward her, “What?”
Y/N looks down at her lap, “People say no one wants to be with me because no one likes my face. They say it’s too intimidating. That I’m too intimidating and no one wants to be with someone like that.” Y/N glances at the side mirror, “Didn’t help that everyone practically hates me because of how firm I stand with my values. High school was enough proof of that.”
“Well, it’s not everyone. You got Mina—”
“Of course, I got Mina. She’s always by my side. So, she’s out of the question.”
“I’m not yet done,” Yoongi chuckles, “You do love getting ahead of everybody, no?”
Y/N pouts and faces straight ahead, crossing her arms.
“As I was saying, you got Mina and me.”
It’s Y/N’s turn to snap back towards him, eyes wide. “What do you mean?”
“You said before I’m not just anybody,” Yoongi shrugs. “Might as well live up to that.”
The quiet air settles over again. Only the sounds of the city zooming past them and Y/N’s occasional snores fill the gaps of silence. But it doesn’t last long as they finally reached 12th street, West Drive—Yoongi’s home—because Y/N wakes up again and starts blabbering if she could tie up his hair Garu-style. Yoongi thinks the utter shock in his mother’s face when she opened the door for him and the utterly inebriated girl on his back is something he will never forget. And probably Y/N’s face, too, which brightened up when Yoongi told her she can have his room.
“Are you serious?” Y/N squeals, already on her knees on his mattress, ready to jump around. She looks like a five-year-old and it doesn’t help that his striped blue and white pajamas make her look, dare he say, cute.
“Yes, I am,” Yoongi replies. He closes the door for a second to see his mother in the hallway.
Ji-an places Y/N’s clothes on their hamper before addressing him. “Been a while since you brought a friend over.”
“Yeah,” Yoongi nervously smiles as he rubs his nape. “Sorry this was unannounced, mom. I drove her to her place but she forgot her keys at work and her flatmate’s also gone for the night. I don’t know what to do so I just brought her here.”
“Hey, it’s okay. I don’t mind,” Ji-an smiles. “I was just surprised. I didn’t know Thursday nights are now a drinking night.”
“Mom!” Yoongi playfully claps his mother’s shoulder. Ji-an only laughs. When her chuckles die down, she fondly looks at her son, “I was just curious what made you drink out on a Thursday night. I thought friend’s night-outs are for Fridays.”
“Today was just a special case. Y/N wanted to try drinking for the first time. She dragged me to teach her what she’s missed out on college and high school.” Yoongi looks at his closed door, a warm smile forming on his face. “I didn’t know someone at 25 has not yet been to a bar before.”
“Then, I’m glad you’ve accompanied her.”
Yoongi looks at his mother, brows furrowed, “What do you mean?”
“It’s also been a while since I’ve seen you smile like that,” Ji-an pulls her lips into a knowing smile. “You smile a lot with us. But it’s been ages since I saw that smile again. It makes me happy it’s back.”
“What…smile, mom?”
“Oh, you know it already,” Ji-an pats his shoulder. “By the way, where are you gonna sleep?”
“I’ll make camp in the living room. I have your fluffy pillows and blanket with me…Thanks, mom.” Yoongi gives her an appreciative smile.
“Okay then,” Ji-an returns his smile, “Goodnight, son.” Yoongi kisses her cheek goodnight and then she resigns back into their room.
Yoongi plops himself on the floor beside his bed. Y/N rolls over to poke at his shoulder, “What took you so long outside? I thought this is a sleepover. Also, what are you doing with that?” she points to the binder the man is holding.
Yoongi continues flipping through the pages. It’s an album of his days back in high school. He always pulls it out whenever he gets the sudden urge to feel nostalgic. Most often than not, the fuzzy feeling after drinking gives that urge. Yoongi mutters, “I’m looking through it so you’ll get bored of messing with me and finally sleep.”
“You know, Yoongi…if I didn’t hate you, I would love to kiss you.”
Yoongi freezes in his position, “W-what?”
But it seems the alcohol took its final toll on Y/N when she rolls over to her side and bids him with a yawn, “Goodnight, Yoongi.”
Yoongi makes sure he hears her snore before he returns, “…Goodnight, too, sweetheart.”
“You really don’t remember anything?”
“No…?”
Yoongi focuses back on the road. “What’s your last memory yesterday?”
“Well, we took shots. Then after that, we danced, and—nothing. Well, you drove me here and let me sleepover so yeah,” Y/N looks down on her interlocked hands. “Thank you for that, Yoongi.”
“You’re welcome. But do you really not remember anything? As in, anything at all?”
“I told you I do not, okay?” Y/N throws up her hands, “How many times do I have to tell you that?!”
Yoongi glances at her, “Not even what you said while we’re dancing at the bar?”
“No,” Y/N sighs. “Look, I don’t remember anything from the night before, save for what I already told you. What did I even say while we’re dancing at the bar?”
“Nothing,” Yoongi looks back at the road. “You just said you wanna stuff your nose full with mojito because you love it so much.”
Y/N massages her temple, “Okay, that’s embarrassing. But dismissible. It’s just a stupid statement. Did something else happen?”
“Something,” Yoongi scoffs, “Oh hell yeah, something definitely happened.”
Y/N’s brows shot up and she screeches, “Did something happen between us?!” Yoongi almost drives the car out of their lane.
“Jesus Christ, Y/N, do you plan on busting my ears off?” Yoongi holds a hand over his ears. “And for God’s sake, how did you even come up to that? What do you think of me? Someone who takes advantage of a drunk woman?!”
“I didn’t say that! Okay,” Y/N reels back and sighs, “I’m sorry I implied it and for possibly offending you. I just thought maybe you got drunk, too, yesterday and we got handsy-handsy on each other. Maybe. The movies show it’s possible. And they already run a good enough forecast system for drunken mistakes.”
“Are you seriously using movies now as a reliable reference?”
Y/N looks away. “It wouldn’t hurt, okay. Movies reflect real life.”
“Look, Y/N,” Yoongi looks at her with a serious face, “nothing sexual happened between us. If something actually happened between us, I wouldn’t be here in the first place. I’d probably be at a church tryna convince the priest if I could take a bath using their holy water.”
Y/N scowls at him, “You say that as if I’m the most horrible person in the world. Well, if you’d been a different person, you’d know I’m not so bad.”
“Are you implying you want to have sex with me?”
“Oh my god—NO! How the fuck did you even think about such abomination?!”
Yoongi wiggles his brows at her. Y/N resists the urge to slap his face. They’re currently driving. She cannot risk her life no matter how much she wants to end the man beside her.
“But seriously speaking,” Yoongi rounds a street, “something else did happen.”
“What is it?”
“You actually insisted to go to my house because you wanna have a sleepover. You reasoned it’s because we’re friends.” Yoongi glances at her, “And you told me you wanted to kiss me.”
Y/N’s jaw falls wide open, “Oh my god, your imagination cannot be any weirder than it already is, huh? ‘Friends’? ‘Kiss you’? Never in a million years would I want that!” Y/N scoffs, “Even if I’m drunk, I know I wouldn’t say that! Your delusions are getting worse, Yoongi.”
“Say all that you want. Still doesn’t negate what transpired yesterday,” Yoongi sing-songs.
“Look,” Y/N shifts in her seat to turn to Yoongi, “I’m grateful you had me in your home and welcomed me so warmly. And I know I’m enjoying a lot of favors right now. But one more wouldn’t hurt, okay?” Y/N sighs and closes her eyes, “Can we just forget whatever happened yesterday?”
“Nope.”
“What do you mean ‘nope’?!”
“Nope, as in, we cannot forget what we know happened. It’s impossible, biologically and realistically speaking. Our brains are not designed with an undo button. Unless we already have early onset of Alzheimer’s. Though I think I wouldn’t worry about that because I’m young and happy. You’re the one who should actually worry because you look old and that’s because you didn’t enjoy life—”
“Okay, I get you! It’s impossible to forget! But can we just never speak about what happened yesterday?!”
Yoongi shrugs, “Depends.”
Y/N’s brows scrunch together, “What do you mean ‘depends’?”
“If it would be non-advantageous for me, sure, I won’t speak about it. But right now, it’s definitely advantageous for me because I can use it as blackmail material to finally convince you you wanted to be friends, and that in fact, we are indeed already friends.”
“Min Yoongi—!”
A ringtone bursts loud in the car. It’s a Japanese song. And it sounds very much like an opening OST for a shounen action anime.
“Are you fricking serious—”
“Ssh!” Y/N holds up an index to Yoongi’s lips. She breaks into a smile, “Oh hello, Ms. Nancy. I-I mean,” Y/N glances at her watch and does quick math, “good afternoon!” Fuck time differences.
The person on the other end of the line doesn’t sound too pleased with the greeting though. “Where the hell are you now, Y/N?”
“Oh, I’m at,” Y/N looks outside of the window in search of the nearest post with a street name, “uh, 1st Avenue. We’re just a couple of blocks from Rockfort now.”
“Don’t come into the office today. I have a list of errands for you to do instead.”
“O-okay—”
“They’re a lot so I’m gonna e-mail them to you now. When you receive it, I hope you start on it ASAP.”
“Of course, ma’am,” Y/N smiles. A beep at the other end serves as her reply. A ‘ding’ soon sounds in her phone and Y/N immediately checks on her notifications.
Ms. Nancy Kim (7:45 A.M.)
Go to my house on 27th Avenue. I left some legal papers I need by 8:20 and I want you to scan them and email them to me. Use my personal computer.
Head to the VanTae Main Office by 8:45 A.M. They’re hosting a meeting with the businesses they’ve partnered with for an interactive fashion event they’re hosting. I forgot to inform them beforehand that I’ve gone abroad but I’ve already e-mailed the CEO today that our spokesperson, Mr. Junhyung Choi, will stand for me. Help out Mr. Choi with whatever he needs, especially his presentation.
Go to RTW Advertising’s Headquarters by 11 A.M with Mr. Choi. They need to discuss something about their future project with us. I’m gonna send you the references you’ll need to help Mr. Choi—
Y/N immediately tucks her phone into her pocket. She’ll just read the rest on the train. She turns to the man beside her, “Yoongi park on the sidewalk.”
“Why? But we’re going to the office—”
“Just go to the nearest parking spot and drop me off.” Y/N smiles, “Please?”
Yoongi sighs but nevertheless, he follows her directions and pulls up the car in front of a bicycle stand.
Y/N gathers her bag, “Sorry this is a rush. I’m not going to the office. I need to catch the 8 A.M. train.” Y/N turns to her side to tug free her seatbelt but it won’t budge. She hears a sigh and then suddenly, there’s a hand hovering above hers, pulling more of the seatbelt from her shoulder to lessen the tension of the belt on the lock. When Y/N looks up, Yoongi’s face is so near hers that one simple movement could let her nose brush the side of his cheek. She could practically feel Yoongi’s breath sweep over her lips as he releases a sigh.
Then Yoongi looks straight into her eyes. “Is it Nancy?”
The lock clicks and it releases the belt. Y/N presses herself still into the corner of the car. She doesn’t know she’s holding her breath as she nods, “Y-yeah.”
Yoongi leans back in his seat. “You sure you want to take the train? I can drive you to where you need to go. I can just hit up Ms. Yoona and tell her to take my place for the day.”
“N-no. This is my work. I don’t want to bother you. I’ve got a list of things to do and it will keep you away from what you really needed to do.” Y/N pushes the handle and opens the door to let herself hop out. “Thanks for offering though.”
Yoongi tilts his head and smiles. “Date you later, then?”
Y/N’s brows meet together.
Yoongi shrugs, “Well, we’ll see each other later and hopefully date y’know? We still need a few date documents to get. For the Heart Holiday. So yeah, date you later?”
“Okay…date you later, too.” Y/N smiles back and then she closes the door. When she turns around, she tries to convince herself the heat on her cheeks was because of the pollution outside. Not because of Yoongi’s warm smile as she sent him off.
Y/N wishes she’s never said anything too early.
The future is a concept that can hardly be determined no matter how open and flexible the patterns people have made to make sense of it. Y/N knows this and yet she still chooses to defy it. It‘s human nature anyway to try and figure out life and see how long you could last with a blueprint belief. If it turns out to be wrong, improve the belief or let it go and find a better one. But this is always easier said than done. It’s an inherent quality of dealing with things and concepts no one has complete control over. And Y/N has completely no control even on her unfortunate scenarios she has pre-determined in her head.
All of her Thursdays have been cursed ever since her first goddamn story proposal was foiled by Min Yoongi one year ago. And suddenly, yesterday was spot-free of any unfortunate events Y/N was sober enough to fully experience. And by some unexpected discrepancy in a long-established, working pattern, everything that has to go wrong in Thursday, happened today—Friday.
When Y/N entered the train station, a mechanical error occurred on the 8 A.M. train that caused a thirty-minute delay before a working cart could come and accommodate commuters. This fucked up Y/N’s schedule big time because she had to sprint to Nancy’s house and speed-scan the legal documents she needed in just five minutes to reach the 8:20 deadline. Of course, it didn’t work according to her plan because computers do their thing when you needed something to be rushed, they pick that exact time to not cooperate with you. Nevertheless, Y/N manages to finish the task. But all the tinge of achievement written on her face from accomplishing something was immediately slashed off when she realizes she sent the documents five minutes past the deadline. Nancy made sure she knew this when she rings her to berate her of her noncompliance with set deadlines.
Y/N thought she could make up for her mistake by doing her best in her presentation with Mr. Choi at VanTae. But that, too, proves to be a long shot to make because before she could even try, life shuts her down. Nancy forgot to inform her VanTae was expecting themed cohesive presentations from their partners. It is with great shame she sat behind the podium where Mr. Choi is standing, flipping through each slide that was obviously embarrassingly sub-par to the other business partners in the room. And, Mr. Choi didn’t let go of the opportunity to befall the blame of today’s unimpressive performance completely on Y/N. Who wouldn’t when she’s the one in charge of making the entire presentation?
But that wasn’t the end of it. At RTW, Mr. Choi just asked for Y/N to bring him and the manager cups of coffee. She doesn’t have to stand by his side anymore. But the heavens seem to hate her because when she enters the conference room and nears the manager, the secretary who’s placing the folders suddenly turned, bumping into Y/N. It would have been okay if the coffee spilled all over on her shirt. But No. Y/N trips on her foot and the hot, newly brewed coffee had to spill on the shirt of RTW’s manager.
When Nancy caught wind of what happened through Mr. Choi, she immediately slashed off Y/N’s tasks that actually involved Travel Loca and reduced it to personal, trivial errands. It’s easy and fool-proof. They’re just errands like bring Nancy’s daughter’s hardcopy of her paper to her school and write up an apology for Nancy for the parties and events she got invited to but will be unable to attend. And by some undecipherable stretch of bad luck, doing these tasks, too, has also proven to be hard. Either the transportation system will delay her for half an hour, an electronic gadget will malfunction on her, or a person in the other end of the line will find something offending in her words and turn it all against her. Y/N barely made it on time to submit the hardcopy to the school. She wasn’t able to finish encoding Nancy’s personal expenses in the tax declaration software. And two of Nancy’s friends were not satisfied with her apologies and even insulted her. When Y/N calls for the nth time about finishing a task that ended not-so-well in her favor, she knows Nancy has already busted her patience of the day for her because she just sighs and started to give her cold one-worded replies.
And before Y/N knew it, it’s already seven. Long past working hours. Y/N’s eyes widen. Yoongi. She pulls up her phone and types a message.
Y/N : Hey, I think I’m gonna do a raincheck on our uh date. Sorry for the late notice. I just finished my job and I don’t think I have any energy left. (7:05 P.M.)
Mean Yoongi >:( : Why? What happened? (7:06 P.M.)
Mean Yoongi >:( : If you don’t mind me asking, I mean? (7:06 P.M.)
Y/N : Nothing happened. Just tired (7:06 P.M.)
Mean Yoongi >:( : Okay, that’s fine. Take a rest. Health is always the priority (7:07 P.M.)
Y/N : Okay. Thank you :) (7:07 P.M.)
Mean Yoongi >:( : Date you tomorrow then? (7:07 P.M.)
Y/N purses her lips and shrugs.
Y/N : Sure. Date you tomorrow (7:07 P.M.)
Mean Yoongi >:( : Sweet. Goodnight, sweetheart 😉 (7:07 P.M.)
A small smile traces its way on Y/N’s face.
Y/N : Goodnight, too, Yoongi (7:07 P.M.)
However, Y/N shouldn’t have thought about finally having a good night too early. Because the cherry on top of her day is yet to happen.
Y/N heads to Rockfort to retrieve her keys and finally end the day. It’s already nine in the evening and she just wants to go home, plop down on her bed, and maybe cry. Out of shame or anger or both, she isn’t sure. Probably anger to Mr. Choi and a bit to Nancy because they didn’t have to belittle her in front of her face the way they did. And most probably anger to herself because she wouldn’t receive such backlash from her superiors if she didn’t fuck up. The rational part of her believes Mr. Choi and Nancy didn’t have time to consider her feelings because they were doing damage control. But still, Y/N can’t help but feel she’s been ruthlessly disregarded. She tried her best but she knows she can’t force anyone to notice it. No one really cares much about the progress. Outcomes are what only matter. It is always the end that determines whether something is worth all the effort or it was all just for naught.
When Y/N starts on the steps on the complex, her phone rings.
It’s Nancy. Y/N takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. “He-hello?”
“Y/N, what’s the progress of the Creatives for this week?”
“O-oh, um—”
“You forgot to send it to me earlier this day when I clearly told you before I went overseas to make sure you keep me up-to-date by the evening. Does it look like it’s still evening, now? It’s already midnight here.” Nancy sighs, “I’m the boss and yet I have to call my employee to ask her to simply do her job. Do you see how wrong that sounds?”
“I-I’m sorry, Ms. Nancy—”
“Stop with the apologies. I’ve had enough of that this day. Just tell me what I’m asking from you.”
“O-okay,” Y/N rushes to the nearest bench. It’s the one sitting under the central mango tree and Y/N hopes if it could give her at least an ounce of luck just like it always does. With hands trembling, Y/N manages to get all the pages of her report from her bag in one piece. She flips through the papers, “U-um, well, Steven and Yoongi came up with a unique design for our feature articles. It’s inspired by the DRM’s goals and the Heart Holiday because Valentines’ week is just around the corner. A-and then the concept team is collaborating well with our artists in doing the overall theme of our issue. I could send you an email later of the samples they’ve given me—”
“Okay, but do you have any updates on our cover page?”
“The-the cover page?”
“Yes, the cover page. Did you not hear what I said?”
Y/N feels her throat dry up. The cover page. Kim Myungsoo. Y/N has reminded him of it yesterday and he said he’s going to see if he can email it by Friday. It’s already Friday and she still hasn’t received any email. She even texted Yoongi earlier while she’s at RTW’s meeting to personally check on Myungsoo and his team. What she only received is a dejected sigh from Yoongi as he told her the team leader has taken a leave and the team members are unable to give them the proposal she needs. Y/N remembers how flawed the bureaucratic system of Travel Loca is as Yoongi informs her company rules dictate access to the reports and documents are only granted by team leaders to ensure their legibility. And since Nancy didn’t give out a statement to override this rule today, Yoongi, himself, cannot do anything. Y/N now remembers why she actually dreaded this call to come.
“U-um, yes, Ma’am, I heard what you said. But, the thing is, uh,” Y/N taps her foot, “I wasn’t…able to make a report because Myungsoo has taken a leave and he wasn’t able to send their report of progress to me. I-I’m sorry.”
Silence greets her. For a second, Y/N thinks the line went dead. She realizes it was wrong to speak beforehand because, after a beat, she feels her heart drop into her stomach.
“You never run out of excuses, do you?”
“W-what?”
Nancy laughs. “Oh my god, I thought I wouldn’t be any more disappointed in you today. Guess I was wrong because you have a knack for breaking my expectations, Y/N. And right now, I’m not disappointed. I’m upset.”
“Nancy, I’m sorry—”
“All I’ve asked from you was to give me updates on the Creatives team. And yeah, you did but you left out the most important element we really need from them—the cover page. Give me a creatives team from a magazine company that doesn’t put the central focus on the fucking cover page? Of course, you’ll get none!”
Y/N bites her lip.
“What are you even doing this week in the office, then, Y/N?”
Silence.
“Answer me, Y/N.”
Y/N bites back a sniffle. “I-I check on each team a-and I also helped with choosing the layouts and templates they use and—”
“Why the hell are you helping them with that? You don’t know their work. What made you think you could actually help?” Nancy scoffs, “So instead of actually doing your job, you’ve been busying yourself with pointless things.”
Y/N could only look down on her feet.
“You know what, Y/N. When I hired you, I thought you were different. I thought you’re someone who could shine and finally get promoted to the team you wanted to be in. Because you know I’m picky with my P.A’s. Only those who I think have the potential to deserve a promotion into a nice position in my company, or at least deserve to get my recommendation that could get them access to many reputable magazines or news companies, get hired to be my P.A.’s. And when I met you, I thought you were like that. Strong, determined, intelligent, and hard-working. But now, you’re far from that, Y/N. You’ve become so far from what I’ve known you to be. You’ve become sloppy. You’ve become someone that makes excuses instead of really working. And you didn’t improve, Y/N. Not one bit. Because your work these days is far behind from what I expect from a well-educated person. And now, you’re making me think I made a mistake I even hired you.”
Y/N presses a hand over her mouth. It’s only then she realizes a tear has already slipped from her eyes.
Nancy sighs, “Thank you for…whatever you did today. I just hope you’ll make up for your mistakes when I come back. I don’t want to further regret I’ve taken you to my company. Goodbye.”
The line goes dead. The hand that holds up her phone limply falls by her side. Her legs are shaking and so are her fingers. It’s cold but it doesn’t compare to the block of frigidness that has dropped on her chest when Nancy…said those words to her. Sure, Nancy’s always been a bit harsh and strict. She’s scolded Y/N for all the times she’s failed in her job before but they were all necessary reminders that have molded her to become more professional at work. She even told her once how proud she was of how Y/N grew in her company. But tonight, her words are far from that. Nancy was brutal and Y/N could only blame herself.
Whenever Y/N makes a mistake, she always tries to look at them objectively and never let them get to her. She’s always been able to do this all throughout high school and until she’s started working. Until tonight, because Nancy’s words are vicious and they’re too heavy to shake off. People say wondering about the ‘what if’s’ is absurd as mulling over what may have happened won’t bring anything to anyone but torment. They are reminders of a now-unattainable future and dwelling on them won’t change anything. But right now, Y/N cannot help but wonder what if she’s sent the legal papers on time? What if she made a noteworthy presentation at the meeting? What if she didn’t spill coffee on the manager? What if she’s been more aggressive in convincing Myungsoo to give her the proposal? Would anything change then?
Y/N raises a hand to wipe off the wetness that has trailed on her cheek. It immediately turns futile because the moment she presses a hand over her eyes, she lets out a sob and tear after tear slips through her fingers. Her mother has told her she’s always had shallow tears. Y/N has worked so long to prove her wrong. That she’s not weak. That she’s not easy to fall over when someone comes too close to knock her down. That she’s strong, that she could get by on her own and she could be someone no one could even attempt to hurt. But now, she’s reduced to this: a crying mess of a girl sitting on some bench for everyone to see. She doesn’t know what to do anymore and—
“Hey, what are you still doing here?”
Y/N looks up. Tears only seem to accumulate more on her eyes when she sees it’s—
“Wait, why are you crying?”
“Yoongi.” Y/N breaks into a sob and before another second passes, Yoongi’s already by her side, looping his arms around her shaking frame, her face pressed close to his chest. He cards his fingers through her hair as he coos at her, but that only seems to spur more sobs to fall from her lips.
“I’m so-sorry I’m crying like this—”
“Let it out.” Yoongi hugs her closer to him, “Just let it out. It’s okay.”
That’s all it took for Y/N to let everything out. She cries against Yoongi’s chest, hands clutching tightly on his coat. Sobs rock upon her frame but Yoongi only holds her tight, swaying a bit as if to lull her from the suffocating toll of her cries. He doesn’t ask anything. He just stays by her side, whispering by her ear, “it’s alright,” “I’m here,” and “You’re not alone.” For the first time that day, all thoughts of ‘what ifs’ halt in her head.
The night outside is getting colder by each second. Y/N could make out fogged up spots on the car window. When her finger meets the glass, she doesn’t jolt from the cold. The heater of the car is on. She draws a star. She thinks she’s lucky. She remembers she is when her eyes glance at the back, upon the paper bag containing empty, reusable take-out containers.
“So…what happened today?”
Y/N turns back to the front. Yoongi’s arms are firm on the wheel. He spares her a glance before focusing his eyes back on the road, “Of course, if you feel…more okay now to answer it.”
Y/N bites her lip. It’s been an hour ago since they silently sat on the bench. And a half-hour after that, she and Yoongi shared dinner over something as trivial as listing the most annoying movies they’ve ever watched. And now, a couple of minutes have already passed in the car with them back in complete silence. Yoongi hasn’t said anything about what happened by the mango tree until now and so did Y/N. But she knows it’s an elephant weighing too big in the car not to address it.
Y/N sighs. “W-well, Nancy has given me a lot of errands to do. And…everything just didn’t go according to plan and I guess, it was just…the last straw for me.”
“I see,” Yoongi hums, glancing at her before directing his eyes back on the road.
Y/N wrings her hands together. She closes her eyes. “Okay, I got…scolded today by Nancy because I messed up with the things she asked me to do. Of course, she has every right to—”
“What did she say to you?”
Y/N looks up at him then she quickly returns her gaze on her hands. “N-nothing. She just…expressed her disappointment about me especially when she learned I cannot give her any updates about the cover page.”
“So you got lashed out on for Myungsoo’s uncooperating ass?”
Y/N whips her head to him, “No, I-I didn’t get lashed out—”
“Y/N, stop lying to me.” Yoongi looks at her. “I know Nancy. I’ve been her P.A., too. And when she’s upset, she lashes out. And when she does, she goes way all over the line.” He looks back onto the street. “Why are you even trying to defend her when she obviously stepped over the line again? This is what I don’t like about—” Yoongi stops and sighs, “What are you going to do about Myungsoo?”
“I’ll…e-mail him tomorrow and convince him to send the proposal to me.”
“So you’re not even going to reprimand him for letting you unjustly receive backlash because of him?
“N-no,” Y/N looks at him, brows scrunched. “I don’t want to make unnecessary enemies here and let my temper get the better of me—”
“So you just don’t stand up against them? What does that make me, then? I’m your free estate for that pent-up anger?”
Silence.
Yoongi sighs, “Fuck, I’m sorry. That’s out of the line.”
“It’s okay…I’m sorry, too. I’ve also been unfair to you.”
“I’m just—I’m so frustrated why you can’t stand up for yourself around these people just like you do to me. You can’t always let them have their way, Y/N. Superior or not.”
Y/N remains unmoving in her seat. Yoongi looks at her slumped figure in the seat and he decides to drop the subject. Silence takes hold of their car again. Yoongi tries to elevate the mood by talking about how he’s already on the 30th episode of Naruto. He said he didn’t expect he’ll find it to be that great “since the popular animes are usually overrated.” He even chipped in how he can’t find Sakura annoying even if a lot of fans hated her. Y/N didn’t say anything but a small smile starts to form on her lips. It’s more than enough for Yoongi to thank the heavens he didn’t totally ruin the night.
When they round the 20th street, Y/N finally decides to speak.
“S-sorry I wasn’t able to say thank you for earlier so—thank you, Yoongi. For the dinner and for the…thing you did on the bench.”
“It’s okay,” Yoongi pulls a small smile. “It’s what friends do.”
Y/N’s eyes shoot up to him and Yoongi only lets his smile grow. It’s that smile. That same smile he gave her when he’s offering to watch Naruto for her to watch Slam Dunk. That same smile he flashed her when he told her to put her arms around his neck as he let her experience her first dance she never had. That same smile that sent warmth spreading all over her chest and tingles running down to her toes. Just like right now. Y/N swallows the nervousness building in her throat.
She turns around in her seat and takes it everything in herself to make her voice sound as beaming as it can be. “Hey, how about we go to that fast food and get one date document before the night ends? It looks so nice and I-I feel bad we didn’t do anything today and—”
“No. I’m driving you to your home.”
Y/N gapes at the man. “B-but you said we’ll date later—”
“We could always get a date document any other time. You’re tired. You need to rest.”
“But—”
“Y/N, you should stop turning your back to things you should actually be facing,” Yoongi looks at her. “Right now, you should let yourself rest.”
The rest of the ride was silent. As Y/N fiddles with the cuffs of her button-down, she cannot help but mull over what Nancy has said earlier. Should she give up her plan for the Heart Holiday to make up for her mistakes today? Of course, when Nancy hears about her absence at work when she goes back to the office, she’ll definitely be disappointed. She could even fire her. Y/N cannot bear to have that. She’s invested two years of her life in Travel Loca. She knows she’s having a hard time living in her current place—doing something she doesn’t love in the field she’s desired for how many years. But she will rather have it than start all over again, most likely work somewhere more comfortable but far from the thing she loves—writing. It’s already hard to start on your desired field. Of course, it would be more heart-wrenching if you had to start from scratch again.
Y/N knows it’s sensible and rational to drop her plan now. She knows she’s leaning to this answer by the time Yoongi pulls in front of her apartment. But when she looks at him and bids him goodbye, his eyes crinkling as he tells her to “drink something warm” and “sleep well, sweetheart,” Y/N cannot figure out why the thought of giving up their ruse felt so…wrong.
DAY 7 – February 1; Saturday
Y/N is awakened by the eye-burning late morning light streaming through her curtains. Her sleep never exceeds the eight-hour mark. It’s a wonder that for the first time, today she did. Y/N thinks it’s probably because Mina spoiled her with homemade post-dinner yesterday after flopping next to her on the couch and telling her everything that happened that day. Her bestfriend has lined up all her favorite comfort foods and even stayed up late watching movies with her, successfully distracting her from replaying whatever Nancy has said.
However, it could also be probably because she slept with her coat draped over her shoulders. Y/N doesn’t know why but her coat smelled so good last night and she just has to keep it beside her for the whole night. She only learns the answer to this when she wakes up to Yoongi’s scent filling her senses first thing in the morning. But even with this knowledge, Y/N can’t find it in herself to regret she ever did that. She hates to admit there’s something about that man that makes her feel safe even if he also makes her run constantly on her toes.
Mina’s out to visit her parents and said she will be back for dinner. Y/N’s seated cross-legged on the couch, chomping on the brunch her bestfriend prepared while she watches Slam Dunk. It’s been two hours since she clicked on her USB containing the downloaded episodes of the anime and yet it feels only fifteen minutes have passed. She doesn’t want to say it aloud, but clearly, Yoongi has some good taste. She wouldn’t mind getting more recommendations from him.
Just right then, her phone rings. Without tearing her eyes from the TV, she wipes on the screen and holds the phone next to her ear. Whoever decided it was a good time to interrupt her just when Sakuragi gets a moment with Haruko is as good as dead meat. She grits over the phone, “What do you want?”
“What the—So early in the morning and you’re already so grumpy.”
Y/N stops. She pulls her phone away from her face.
Mean Yoongi >:(
Y/N sighs and rolls her eyes. However, she cannot resist the smile that immediately grows on her face. “It’s not ‘early in the morning’ anymore, mister. It’s already eleven. Now, what do you want?”
“‘What do I want?’ Do I seriously type the opportunistic guy who only calls just because he wants something?” Yoongi scoffs but the sound of it tells Y/N the man was doing his weird laughing face again.
Y/N chuckles. Yoongi immediately follows suit. “But seriously,” Y/N manages in between giggles, “Why did you call?”
“Just checkin’ up on you. How are you? Do you feel…better, now?”
Y/N hums. She purses her lips, “A bit better now. So far, this day has been good to me. How ‘bout you?”
“I’m good,” Yoongi quips, “Better actually. I cooked my family some breakfast and now I’m just chillin’ in my room. What are you doing?”
“…watching Slam Dunk.”
“No way!”
Y/N could hear the clatter of things in the speaker. Yoongi must have sat up and knocked things over. What a clumsy idiot. She chuckles, “Oh yes way, Min. Now, you won’t be able to fight me on this because I’m in the 10th episode now. How about you? How’s the other end of the deal doing over there?”
“Just you wait, woman, I’m gonna watch Naruto now.” There’s a faint click in the speaker and then—
“Please enter your disk.”
“Oh my god, Yoongi, you bought a fucking CD of Naruto?!”
“Why? This is me showing my respect for art by not ripping it off—wait, do you not buy CDs?”
“…No.”
“Do you not have Netflix?”
“Do you have Netflix?” Y/N counters, “That’s rich coming from you considering you still buy Blu-ray Discs. We’re just both broke, struggling adults here who can’t afford additional bills to pay. No need to pull up your chair so high, mister.”
“Answer my question, Y/N. Do you not have Netflix?”
Y/N sighs, “No.”
“Oh my god, I can’t believe I’m dating a pirate!”
Y/N could feel her cheeks start to burn, “What the—! I’m not a pirate! I’m just—being practical, yeah! In case you don’t know, things stay free on the Internet for a reason and that is to accommodate broke people like me.”
“Still doesn’t negate that you, mate, are in fact committing piracy.”
“Hey, I’m not the one who created the pirated versions of Slam Dunk! I’m just downloading torrents. I’m just utilizing available means practically laid in front of me!”
Laughter resounds on the other end of the line. It sounds weird—like a grandpa wheezing in front of an electric fan. But it also sounds endearingly cute. It doesn’t make sense why it even sounds cute. It’s not even cute! Y/N unknowingly smiles. One thing’s for sure. She wants to hear more of Yoongi’s laugh.
“Jesus Christ, woman, I’m just messing with you!” Yoongi cackles. “You think I don’t watch pirated things, too? Most of the movies I claimed I’ve already watched are all thanks to torrent. I’m too broke to go to cinemas!”
“But if you entertain pirated stuff,” Y/N shifts in her seat, “why did you even buy a CD of Naruto?”
“I buy CDs only when I think they are worth it.”
“You…already think Naruto is worth it?”
“Yeah. You like it. So, it’s worth it. You said it’s great, so I trust you.”
Y/N gulps. It’s weird. Her chest feels so warm and so do her cheeks. She’s just talking with someone over the phone.
“You still there?”
“Y-yeah,” Y/N fixes her clothes. Why the hell is she even fixing herself? It’s not as if Yoongi can see her.
“Okay. I thought of something.”
“Yeah?”
“How ‘bout we watch our respective animes together through Discord Music Party so we can hear each other’s reactions live?”
Y/N tilts her head, “How will I be able to watch properly then if I’m calling you at the same time?”
“You can turn down my volume from time to time there, duh. It’s 2020 now, sweetheart.”
Y/N flushes. “O-okay, we can do that. But I still don’t get why we have to check our reactions live.”
“Did you ever feel you want so badly to gush out your annoyance or excitement about something you’re watching to someone? Because I do. And I want you to be on the other line to hear me lash and gush on something because you made me enter this battlefield. This is 500+ episodes, woman.”
“Well, that’s not my fault. Who in the first place proposed this anime-watching exchange? You.”
“Touche,” Yoongi chuckles. “Yeah, it’s me. I told you I’d watch Naruto just to get you to watch Slam Dunk for my sake. But actually, I’m just curious why you love that anime so much. So here’s me learning the heck out of it.”
Naruto’s Season 1 opening OST starts to play in the background.
Y/N clucks her tongue, “I thought we’d go to Discord first before we do our live reactions?”
“Just give me five more minutes. I don’t want to end our call yet.”
Five minutes easily turn into twenty and it takes one more of Yoongi’s ‘Just five more minutes’ to annoy Y/N and yell at him he’s wasting his mobile load. It takes Y/N three minutes to download the app, and after ten minutes of fumbling around it, they hear each other’s voices again and continue where they left off.
“Oh, you’re here again, captain!”
“Shut up, Yoongi.”
“How’s the loot?”
Y/N sends an angry emoji in the chat. Yoongi’s laughter immediately booms through the speakers.
The rest of the day just goes like this. Episode upon episode pass. There are occasional quick calls for a bathroom break. Of course, another argument happens, especially when Yoongi suddenly declared at episode 77 he ships Sakura with Naruto which Y/N cannot accept because “canon is canon for a reason.” Meanwhile, Yoongi was initially pleased to learn Y/N ships Haruko with Sakuragi and not with “Awful Kaede.” But that immediately changes when he learns Y/N only ships the two because she ships Kaede with herself.
“I love me an ambitious, dream-driven man.”
“You’re the one who’s getting too ambitious, missy.”
Sometimes, inquiries of “You wanna pause and rant about Kaede?” or “What are you eating?” come across. But most of the time, what transpires in between are laughs, expressions like “that’s so cool,” and “whoa, I didn’t expect that,” and promises to keep watching together whenever they’re free. Y/N never knew watching a show could be this fun. Of course, it’s already fun watching an amazing show with great characters and conflicts. But watching together with another person, even if they’re not necessarily the same show, definitely amps up the experience. Y/N doesn’t want to admit it but Yoongi’s right. Having someone by your side, even virtually, to gush or lash out with on something definitely feels good.
Everything just felt so right and enjoyable that Y/N didn’t even notice the whole day passed with just her and Yoongi accompanying each other watching shows. Time has passed too quickly and now it’s five forty-five. Mina has already come home and she definitely sends Y/N a questioning look when she sees her chuckling on her phone. Y/N only flashes her a grin and mouths ‘just a bit more.’ Meanwhile, Yoongi has yet again started his “just five more minutes” hoax. Though that unexpectedly gets ended soon when Y/N hears Jeongguk’s voice pops up and asks Yoongi to come out and start preparing dinner. But just before Y/N could say goodbye and tell him one last time to “go hurry up and cook,” Yoongi interrupts her.
“You know, this is my kinda type of a date.”
“Thi-this is a date?”
“Yeah. You’re spending time with me. I’m spending time with you. And we’re having a good time. So yeah, this is a date.”
Y/N tries not to focus too much on what he said. “But how is this your type of a date? I thought you like bar dates?”
Yoongi guffaws. “Where the hell did you get that?”
“Jeff. He said you’re a bar-type guy.”
“Oooohhhh. So that’s why you suddenly wanted to have a date at Neo-Cloud 9 that day.”
Y/N shyly looks down at her hands.
“As much as I love alcohol, I don’t actually prefer drinking them in bars. They’re too noisy. Messy. And there’s a lot of people bumping into you.”
“Then why did you agree to go to Neo-Cloud 9 when you also don’t like bars?”
“Because you’re with me. You said it was your first time going in one, too, and I figured why not help you enjoy the experience.” Yoongi chuckles, “It’s not like I didn’t have fun with you anyway. In fact, I had so much fun. Especially at the part where you said you wanted to kiss me.”
“Oh my god, Min.”
“Don’t deny it anymore, sweetheart, I’ll—”
Y/N ends the call though. But that seems pointless when her chat pops up with another message from the man.
Min Yoongi >;) (5:50 P.M.)
“—make sure you’d remember it ‘til the die you die. I’ll live for as long as I can just to remind you of that.”
Y/N (5:51 P.M.)
“Sure. Whatever, Min.”
Y/N closes her phone with a chuckle. When she turns around to finally gather her used utensils, she’s greeted by Mina’s curious stare.
“You seem to be having fun with Yoongi these days.”
Y/N opens her mouth but Mina immediately interrupts her, “Oh don’t you deny it. I’ve seen you smiling a lot these days. Even when you still rant about him, I could see you’re actually having fun.”
Y/N raises her hands, “Okay, I admit, I’m actually having fun. But I think it has to do with us agreeing to compromise for this 14-day deal. Not because of…him.”
“But isn’t that good, though?” Mina asks, “This deal didn’t turn out as disastrous as I expected it to be. At least you’re trying to make the best out of it instead of busting each other’s heads off. Plus, a week has already passed. You only have seven days more. Everything will soon go back to normal.” Mina smiles, “Just a little more and you’ll soon get that benefit, Y/N.”
Mina excuses herself and heads to the kitchen to start dinner. As Y/N plops back down on the sofa, she realizes she’s got her answer. It’s just seven more days. Just seven more days to fully enjoy this deal. After that, it will all go back to the way it used to and she’ll have her work all to herself again. It wouldn’t hurt much if she chooses to turn down work for the first time and indulge in the last days of this ruse, right? The deal is bound to end soon anyway. It’s useless backing out now. She just has to make the best out of it.
But why can’t Y/N find it in herself to be fully happy about this?
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A/N| Hi hons! First of all, happy birthday to @wii-wii! I hope this post is not too late. I hope you had a wonderful day/night and may you always stay well and safe 💕
Thank you, hons, for waiting for the 2nd part of Act 2! Unfortunately, I don’t know when I’ll upload Act 3 as I’ll be prioritizing my fic first for @btswritingcafe’s Map of The Soul Workshop. And after that, I’m going to write a short story I’ll have to submit for my university’s journal. After then will I be able to go back to my schedule for THH. Don’t worry though, I already prepared a detailed outline for the rest of the Acts of THH so I think I wouldn’t take too long fumbling what scenes to write. Anyway, if you wish to get updated when Act 3 finally drops, just PM me or send me an ask and I’ll add you to the taglist!
Update: Comment down below instead if you want to get added to the taglist! I think it will help me to track all of you hons once I post the update!
All Rights Reserved 2020 © Vanaera. Reposts, modifications, and translations of content are not allowed.
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