#but like seriously.. i could tell you about the weird public art sculptures. i could tell you about the local cryptid sighting from the 70s

[puppyeared]

does anyone else feel like they could be a really really good tour guide if the memory problems didnt exist

[alpacaparkaseok]

The Pact: Date #2

Pairing/Genre: OT7 BTS x reader (not poly), idol!BTS, best friend BTS

Word Count: 6.4k

Premise: The truth about the pact the boys have about you has been revealed. What happens when you agree to go on a single date with each of them?

Warnings: none, so much fluff (adkshdaslkfj...yeah. fluff.)

a/n: please, if you feel ok with it, let me know how this date was! Remember, you guys are deciding the outcome. Every little bit of feedback, even if it’s just unintelligible screaming, helps. I’d be very interested to hear your thoughts on how this date differed from last week’s!

Date #2

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It’s safe to say that by this point, you’ve replayed last Saturday’s date in your mind about sixty thousand times. Yet, despite your near-constant analysis, you find that you’re no more prepared for today’s date than before.

Perhaps it has something to do with the way it was described last week, giving you a little insight to how different this date would be compared to the relaxed atmosphere before.

Classic. Romantic. Picture perfect.

Your mind races with the possibilities; heaven knows that could be any of the boys. But you can’t help but expect one in particular to appear on your doorstep.

You shuffle back and forth before your mirror, triple checking your reflection. Jungkook texted you earlier this week with some instructions.

Dresscode was set to casual-nice. Whatever that means.

Make sure you’ve got your T-money card, which gives you access to the Subway.

Your green sweater vest is tucked neatly into your black skirt, giving you a posh academia vibe that you’ve honestly been dying to try out for a while. Hair falling in thick ringlets around your shoulders, the look is complete with black suede boots that only extend up to your ankle.

“Oh yeah,” you grin at your reflection. “I look good.”

And just there, resting atop the sleeves of your turtleneck, sits Hobi’s bracelet. The word ‘jagi’ is facing the ceiling, which is enough to soften your smile, remembering Hobi’s sweet date.

You’d gotten Jungkook’s permission to send a little message to Hobi, thanking him profusely for the date. It’d been fun to get to chat with him for a minute, already missing him. If you’re honest with yourself, you miss hanging out with all of them. It’s only been a couple of weeks since you were last all together, but it feels like months.

The upside to this Saturday is the fact that (after you’d sent some choice texts to Jungkook), you were given a time as to when your date would appear. Which is why you’re sitting on the edge of your seat at six o’clock ticks ever closer, waiting for the tell-tale knock on the door.

Every time a car turns onto your street, you’re leaping up to peek out the window, holding your breath until it passes by. However, this time you find yourself nearly passing out as a sleek black car rolls to a stop in front of your house.

You lose all ability to think straight when Kim Taehyung steps out of the car, straightening his beige cable knit sweater and puffing his cheeks out as he exhales. His black hair tumbles into his eyes, just long enough to brush up against his brows and make him brush it away.

Stumbling back from the window before he can see you spying on him, you bring a hand up to your chest.

“Ok, ok,” you rush to compose yourself. “Holy-”

A happy knock on your door cuts you off, and the only thing you can hope for is that you don’t say something stupid within the first sixty seconds of this date. If you can make past the first sixty seconds, you should be good, right?

Right?

You don’t have time to ponder as you force yourself to take a deep breath and open up the door. Sure enough, there stands Taehyung. Looking like he just stepped out of a French renaissance painting, complete with a smile.

A smile that’s meant for you, you realize with no shortage of shock. Grinning at you while he tilts his head to one side, his hair falls across his face from it’d been semi-parted.

“Hi, my name is Kim Taehyung,” he taps his heels together and extends his hand out. As he swoops into a bow, you can’t help the giggle the bubbles up at the silly scene before you. Gently placing your hand in his, you watch with wide eyes as he brings it to his lips. Planting a soft kiss to your knuckles, he looks up at you from behind his hair. “And you are?”

At this point, you’ve realized that there’s no stopping the mad blush crawling up your neck. Attempting to shake it off with a laugh, you shake your head.

“Are you lost or something?”

Taehyung gasps, stepping back and nearly tumbling down the stairs. “C’mon!” He groans, his smile never faltering. “I was trying to be classy!”

Shrugging, you grab your bag equipped with the essentials (keys, chapstick, mints...more mints), and lock the door behind you. Linking your arm through Taehyung’s and delighting in the momentary surprise that graces his features, you smile up at him.

“Where to, Mr. Kim?”

“Ah! That’s better.” The two of you make it to the car, Taehyung opening the passenger side before hustling over to the driver’s side. Once he’s in and buckled up, he answers your question. “Choose a number between one and ten.” Coming to stop at a stop sign, he looks to you expectantly.

“One.”

He raises his brows, making a show of turning the blinker on to signal turning right. “Good choice. We’ll get there in about...twelve minutes.” You nod, smiling softly. “How have you been?”

“Good. It’s been weird, not getting to hang out with everyone,” you admit. Tae hums in agreement.

“Yeah, it’s been weird not seeing you around the house. What have you been up to?”

The two of you get lost in conversation, relating your most recent horror stories from work or your classes. Taehyung listens raptly, snorting when you mention that you considered bringing your homework with you on the date.

“Seriously!” You laugh. “There’s so much of it. I swear, my professors have all ganged up on me.”

Tae turns into a closed off parking lot, swiping a small card in front of the monitor and pulling forward when the gates swing open. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t. Hopefully I keep you entertained enough to keep you from doing homework,” he teases.

You gape at the huge building before you, the architectural design enough to have your mouth running dry. It looks like it was taken straight out of ancient Greece, the pillars stretching up high and boasting chiseled divots. Leading to the entrance is a path of hanging wisteria, the soft purple petals swaying in the breeze.

In fact, if you hadn’t currently been sitting in a car that was definitely a product of the 21st century, you would have thought that you’d accidentally time-traveled.

Taehyung’s soft chuckle brings you back to reality, and you watch as he throws the car in park and rushes around to open your door before you even have time to twitch a muscle. You find yourself torn between gaping at the building and the man in front of you, as he extends a hand out to you and pulls you out of the car.

“What is this place?” You ask, afraid to even blink for fear of everything disappearing. Tae gently links your arm through his, which in retrospect was probably a good idea. Heaven knows you’re at risk of wandering off and never returning.

The evening sky does wonders for Taehyung, the sleepy golden sunlight settling over him. “It’s a project that’s been in the works for a long time, actually. They’re bringing together different artworks - some are replicas that they’ve been permitted to use - from all over the world. The best of the best, all in one place.” He runs a hand through his hair, looking up as you enter the small tunnel of hanging wisteria. “It’s not open to the public yet, they just finished moving the final pieces last week.”

You blink, looking up at one of your closest friends with awe. Squeezing his arm, you take a moment to pause and look around at all the beautiful wisteria.

“I’m friends with some of the curators here,” Tae explains when he catches your eye. “They said we could have a look around...if you want to…?”

In response, you wiggle out of his grasp and take off toward the entrance, Taehyung laughing and hurrying after you.

The art museum is, in a word, massive. The two of you fall into a companionable silence as you take in the artwork, occasionally wandering away from each other to get a closer look at something. Every so often Taehyung will call your name, motioning for you to look at a piece he especially likes.

There’s a point where Taehyung is trying to explain the difference between the replicas and the real oil paintings. “See, this one doesn’t have the same kind of sheen, so it’s obviously fake.” He reaches out to touch it, but freezes as soon as his fingers touch the painting.

“What?” You ask, craning your neck to see. He turns to face you with a horrified expression.

“It’s real.”

You choke a laugh, seeing the way he slowly removes his hands from the painting as though afraid to set off a bomb. “You’re joking.”

He shakes his head, looking up and down the hallway before whispering to you. “Run. They’ll kill me if they find out that I touched that thing with my bare hands. It’s like...three hundred years old or something.”

“Wha-”

“Split up!” He hisses, taking off down the opposite end of the corridor. Heart pounding even as you laugh, you run the other way. Taehyung’s laugh bounces off the walls, only making you laugh even more.

It doesn’t take long before the sun has dipped below the horizon and the two of you find yourselves in a spot dedicated to different sculptures. Sitting down on the bench in front of them, you realize just how long you’ve been up and running around.

“Wow,” you breathe out, Taehyung grunting in agreement. “So you weren’t caught?”

“Not yet, at least.” He fidgets a little beside you before speaking again. “Actually, there’s one more thing left to do here.”

You glance over at him, delighted to see that his hair has somehow grown even fluffier over the course of the date. “What is it?”

“Let me show you.” He hops up, leading the way to the end of the corridor. He enters a small room that’s completely empty save for a white backdrop and a camera.

He walks to the camera, making sure it’s on before gesturing for you to walk before the backdrop.

“Think of it like one giant photo booth,” he explains. “Pose, and I’ll choose a backdrop for you.”

You chew on your lip, feeling a little awkward as you stand before the camera. “What should I do? I’m not used to people taking pictures of me.”

Taehyung frowns. “What do you mean? I take pictures of you all the time.”

Against the start white backdrop, there’s no chance he doesn’t see your blush. “No, er...not like that. I’m not used to posing.”

“Oh.” He steps back, crossing his arms. “Just...smile?”

He snaps a few photos before rushing over to a small printer. You wander over as well, laughing when you see what’s become of your photos.

There you are, smiling awkwardly where Mona Lisa usually sits in her painting. “Oh, that’s horrible.”

“Da Vinci would love it,” Taehyung objects.

“Here, I’ll take your picture.” You run over to the camera while Taehyung steps up front, placing both hands on his hips while looking off into the distance. Selecting the ‘Starry Night’ background, you take the picture.

“Oooh, very nice!” Tae croons when he sees the photo. “But I want both of us in this.”

“What do you mean, both? There’s only enough room for one-”

“We’ll make it work,” Taehyung says as he drags you in front of the camera. Fiddling with it for a moment, he turns back to you. “Ok, it’s set to take four photos in a row. Stay still.”

“How are you going to…?” Your words fade out as a light in the camera begins to blink, counting down. Taehyung comes around you, slipping his arms around your waist as he rests his chin on your shoulder.

Just as the camera flashes for the first photo, Taehyung decides to try his hand at tickling you mercilessly.

You squeal, trying to get away but unable to as Tae keeps his iron-like grip on you. “Stay still!” He scolds in a serious tone, even as a smile is pushing its way onto his lips.

“S-stop!” You can hardly breathe as the attack continues and the camera flashes again. “Tae! You horrible human being-”

Suddenly he drops the attack, standing up straight and smiling at the camera. You take the opportunity just as the final flash goes off to shove him, laughing maniacally. He shouts, stumbling backward dramatically. Taking the temporary distraction to your advantage, you hurry over to where the pictures are being printed. As each photo comes out, you can hardly hold back your laughter.

Picking up the first photo, taken just as Taehyung had decided to attack you, you turn around to face him. “Look at how evil you look here!”

He saunters over, a lazy smile on his face. “Oh-ho, classic.”

Sure enough, the other photos are just as entertaining, although you can’t help but groan at the second photo which shows you with a mixture of laughter and annoyance as Taehyung fights a smile. “Oof, this one isn’t the most flattering…”

“Does that mean I get to keep it?” Taehyung asks quietly, taking the photo from your hands and looking at it closely. “You look cute.”

You blink, but shrug it off. Taehyung has always been a bit more forthcoming with his flirtatious manner, but it’s just now that you realize there was actually some sort of truth behind all of those silly remarks over the past few years.

Huh.

Taehyung checks the time, looking up at you with wide eyes. “Oh, we have to hurry!”

“Why?” You manage to ask before Taehyung takes off in a brisk walk. He grabs your hand, giving you no choice but to try to keep up.

He doesn’t directly answer your question. “You brought your T-money, right?”

“Yeah...but why?”

“Why do I feel like we’re going to get in trouble for this?”

“We won’t. I will.” Taehyung doesn’t look the least bit bothered as he slips a hat on over his hair. “That is, if we get caught.”

“So no pressure.” You say sarcastically, wishing you had some sort of invisibility cloak.

You never knew that the subway could be such a rush. It’s a Saturday night, people are filing in and out of the Subway at a rapid pace as they chat jovially together. Taehyung keeps his head down, attempting to blend in and completely failing.

“Tae, you’re going to be recognized.”

He shrugs. “I do this all the time. Hasn’t happened yet.”

You furrow your brows. “You do? I had no idea.”

“It’s nice to pretend to be normal every once in a while,” he confesses, looking down at his phone. “Just don’t tell anyone. It’s a secret I’ve managed to keep for years.”

“I won’t. Promise.”

Pulling up the timer app on his phone, he grins mischievously at you. “Ok. We have 60 minutes to get to three different places.” He holds up his phone for you to see. “First, we’re going to that night market you hit up all the time to get Tteok-bokki, which you love probably way too much-”

“Hey! It’s a healthy obsession!” You defend yourself, only earning an eyebrow raise in return.

“Whatever you say, weirdo. Then, we’re going to that walnut shop - you know the one at the end of the line?”

“We’re going to a walnut shop?”

“Yeah. Namjoon’s got this new obsession with them, so I promised I’d pick some up for him”

You snort. “Ok, and the last spot?”

Taehyung lowers his phone, toggling the timer to 60 minutes and looking at you and chuckling. “It’s a surprise. You ready?”

“Wait, how on earth are we supposed to get to all of these places within an hour?” You ask, incredulous. “Especially if we’re stopping to eat or buy stuff?”

Finger hovering over the start button, Taehyung looks around the busy subway station. “We hurry.” With that, he links his hand with yours and begins the timer. “Run!”

Taking off like thieves on the run, you swipe your T-money card and hurtle past the barrier, rushing to see which line to take. “It’s the red line, right?” You ask, roles switching as it’s now you dragging Taehyung behind you. “Hurry! It’s already here!”

Rushing over to where the red line train is just pulling in, you leap through the doors as soon as they open. Taehyung is right behind you, and the two of you stand off to the side with your faces down and trying to hide your giggles. He leans down to whisper something in your ear, your head automatically tilting to hear him better.

“Keep an eye out for our stop,” he urges, squeezing your hand. You nod, remaining on high alert even as you’re bursting with excitement. You know that if anybody found out that you and Taehyung were out here, looking very much like a couple, you would be toast.

The rush goes straight to your head, pumping you full of adrenaline as your stop approaches. A thought hits you, and you hurry to voice it before you have to jump out and run.

“How are we going to get you through the night market without being recognized?”

“Oh,” Taehyung angles his body toward the door, preparing. “I talked with the owner of the stall you go to. He promised to have the food ready and waiting for us, we just have to meet him in the back.”

You still have no idea how you’re going to make it through the market without being recognized, but there’s no more time for questions as the train slows to a stop and the doors slide open. In a single heartbeat the two of you leap out and take off toward the stairs that will lead you out into the night air.

It’s embarrassing just how much you’re panting by the time you reach the top of the stairs, but you shrug it off as you see the huge crowd mulling outside of the market. Without giving you a single second to doubt, Taehyung plunges into the crowd.

The two of you weave in and out, a startled laugh coming from you as the two of you pass by a stall filled with BTS merchandise. Taehyung hesitates for a moment, almost looking like he wants to stop in, but thinks better of it.

The people around you are so focused on the different stalls and their night out that they pay you no mind as you pass by, bumping into people with every step you take. If only they knew that it was Kim Taehyung bumping into them.

He never lets go of your hand as you make your way to your favorite food stall, for fear of losing you in the crowd. Glancing back at you, Taehyung shouts above the din.

“It’s been almost eight minutes!”

You nod, once again wondering how on earth you’re going to make it to all the places Taehyung has planned. Your mouth runs a little dry as you see the long line of people waiting at the food stall, all of them wanting a taste of the delicious tteok-bokki. Going in a wide circle around the crowd, the two of you end up behind the stall where it’s surprisingly empty.

Taehyung wraps on the back entrance, loud enough to be heard over the loud night. A moment later an elderly man sticks his head out, eyes crinkling with a smile as he sees the two of you.

“Ah, I was just wondering when you’d be showing up! Let me grab your order.” He winks at you guys before disappearing back into the little stall. You take a moment to breathe, looking up at the starry sky. Taehyung joins you, smiling softly.

“Why 60 minutes?” You ask quietly. Taehyung shrugs.

“I make this run whenever I can,” he responds quietly. “I’ve never been able to do it in less than an hour. Thought that it’d be fun to try to break the record with you.”

You laugh quietly. “How come I didn’t know that about you? Why didn’t you invite me before?”

Taehyung runs a hand through his hair, his other hand still hanging loosely in yours. “The pact.” When you look at him with a confused expression, he goes on. “Think about it: have you ever hung out with any of us just one on one? At least, intentionally?”

You frown, running through your memories. “I mean, yeah, but-”

“Intentionally, though.”

Automatically your thoughts run to the memory of Hobi and that night you’d vented in his car for a solid two hours, tears running down your face. Or that time you’d gone shopping with Taehyung, that was intentional wasn’t it?

“We went shopping that one time,” you say.

“Yeah, but that was an emergency of sorts. Remember? You’d spilled on your shirt and had an interview for your internship soon,” he reminds you. “I took you shopping and dropped you off after.”

You remember that, but there were other times that you just spent time with one of the boys on purpose, right? Taehyung sees your thoughts, giving you another example.

“And that time you sat and talked with Hobi in his car for hours? He’d seen you walking and offered to give you a ride. That obviously wasn’t planned.”

You blink. “How did you know about that?”

Taehyung turns a little pink under the starlight, realizing that he wasn’t supposed to know that. “Hey, it’s not my fault. He wouldn’t shut up about it. But that’s not the point!” He quickly tries to backtrack, mussing his hair yet again.

“Right,” you sigh. “So what does that have to do with the pact? And what does the pact have to do with you and this weird route of yours?” You laugh, Taehyung chuckling nervously along with you.

He opens his mouth to respond, but at that moment the door opens and the same old man appears with a bag of your food. “Here you go!” He happily hands it over to Taehyung, who thanks him and hands him the money and thanks him profusely. You also thank him, smiling warmly.

As soon as the door shuts again, Taehyung is leading you back out into the crowd. He keeps a firm grip on the food, and you stare at it longingly. The two of you manage to make it out of the crowd without any complications, except for the fact that you had to drag Tae away from the merchandise booth.

Descending the stairs to the subway, you glance over at the food again. “Are we gonna eat that, or…?”

He squints at the screen that shows the different lines and arrival times. “We have four minutes before the yellow line gets here.” Stopping at the bottom of the stairs and standing off to the side, he hands you your food, chuckling as you tear into it. He shares it with you, devouring the food at an alarming rate.

It’s embarrassing to say that the two of you finish it with thirty seconds to spare.

“Wow,” you groan, rubbing your stomach as Tae throws the container away. “We’re messed up.”

He chuckles at you, checking the timer. “That, we are. But it was good, right?”

“Ugh, so good. I swear, that place is magic.”

This time, instead of running to the platform, you waddle. You get there just before the doors close, sliding in between the door and pole, which you cling to. Taehyung stands across from you, resting against the pole as well and smiling.

“Ready to go buy some walnuts?”

The question has you giggling. “Definitely.”

You fall into a comfortable silence, waiting for your stop to arrive. The walnut shop sits on the other end of the line, one of the final stops. It takes a few minutes to get there, each second ticking down. Once there’s only one stop left before you have to get off, you ask Taehyung to check the timer.

He raises his brows. “We’re making pretty good time. Thirty minutes left.”

“Nice!” You give him a high five, smiling simply because he is. “Let’s get these walnuts!”

Nevermind the fact that people listening in to your conversation think you’re crazy.

Once you make it to your stop, the two of you settle for a brisk walk rather than running. Together, you walk down the street hand in hand while trying to find the walnut shop.

“You never finished explaining that thing about the pact,” you recall. You’d nearly forgotten amongst the rush of eating and the sleepy subway ride after. Taehyung glances down at you, almost looking a little bummed out that you remembered.

“Oh...right.” He stops on the corner and presses the crosswalk sign. “Well, that’s one of the things about the pact. I never invited you to come along with me because I couldn’t. It doesn’t allow for intentional one-on-one activities.”

“You know how weird that is, right?”

He snorts. “Yeah, I know. But that’s how it is, I guess. All of those other times you were with any of us, alone, it wasn’t on purpose. It just worked out like that. You know, something about keeping everything even. And, spending too much time alone with you would probably lead to breaking the pact.”

Nodding, you tuck this information away for further examination. “Sounds like you guys thought of everything.”

“Almost.”

“Ok,” you begin to cross the quiet street, this side of Seoul starkly different in comparison with the busy night market. “So what does this route have to do with any of that? Why did you even start doing this in the first place? It’s...all over the place.”

Taehyung chews on the inside of his cheek. “Well...oh! We’re here!”

You roll your eyes as Taehyung bounds up the stairs of the walnut shop, which appears to be nearly closed. Why they’re still open at this time of night is beyond you. Do they really have people coming out to buy walnuts at all hours of the night?

The little shop is warm, and the young girl behind the counter looks anything but shocked as Taehyung enters. She immediately leans down to grab a small bag, placing it in front of her.

“Just the one bag?”

You pause to wonder just how many times Taehyung has frequented this shop for the employees to be so familiar with him. The thought makes you smile, picturing Taehyung sneaking in here late at night just to feed Namjoon’s odd walnut addiction.

“Just the one should be fine,” Tae responds, looking at you over his shoulder with a warm look. You don’t notice it, lost in your own thoughts as you wander over to a display.

Once he’s finished with the transaction, he wanders over to you. “Looks like we might just make it.”

You turn around, looking at him expectantly. “How much time is left?”

“Sixteen minutes. Let’s go,” he holds out his arm for you, which you rest your hand on the inner crook of his elbow. Bidding the girl goodnight, the two of you wander back out into the night.

“Soooo...where to next?”

Taehyung shakes his head. “I told you, it’s a surprise.”

The subway on this end of the city is much less crowded, it’s easy to find the blue line and hop on. You realize that you’re heading back to a stop fairly close to the night market, which makes you wonder.

“Why’d we go to the end of the line before this?” You ask. “It would’ve been much quicker to go here second.”

“Because,” Taehyung sits beside you, stretching his legs out. “It’s a spot that you can’t rush in. It’s meant to be the final destination.”

Giggling a little, you nudge him. “That sounds a little morbid.”

The Han River glistens from your viewpoint atop the bridge. Sitting next to Taehyung, your feet dangling off the edge, you take a deep breath.

“I see why this had to be the final stop,” you say as you breathe out. The entire Han River lays at your feet, the city lights bouncing off the surface and creating a dazzling atmosphere to rival that of the stars above you. People walk along the edge or ride bikes, their small figures making you realize just how high up you are.

“Mmm,” Taehyung hums beside you. He leans back, glancing over at you as you take in the view. “This is always the last stop.”

You take a moment to allow the sounds of the night wrap around you, tilting your head up to the stars and watching them wink down at you. A profound contentment settles over you, a smile playing on your lips.

“And my last question?” You mumble out. “What’s so special about this route?”

The quiet moment seems to be enough to urge Taehyung to finally answer you. He sits up, admiring the way you look, sitting here on top of the world.

“About a year ago, we all talked about the normal, everyday things you like to do. What we would like to do.”

“I remember,” you muse. “You guys were talking about what you’d do if you weren’t famous. Romanticizing the mediocre.”

“Right.” He slings his arms over the railing, looking out over the people enjoying their Saturday night. “You talked about how you always go to that night market to get tteok-bokki. You basically swore by that one stall, it was hilarious. But you looked so...I don’t know, I just remember thinking, I’ve never seen someone so happy about some cheap night market food. But it made me happy. And then you said that you like to grab your food and head out to the Han River. Enjoy the evening with some good food and a view.”

A slight breeze picks up, ruffling Taehyung’s hair. He hardly notices, wearing an adorable look of concentration as he continues. “And that just seemed...I don’t know, it became this thing for me. Those late nights at work or when we were away, I’d always stop and wonder if you’d gotten to do what made you so happy. But then, I realized that it wasn’t enough for me to just sit and wonder. I wanted to- I wanted...to be there with you.”

Your breath hitches in your throat as you catch sight of the faraway look in his eyes. How many times had he stopped and wondered if you had gotten to do something that made you happy? Sitting beside this man who is such a force for good, you find that you are entirely out of your element.

“So, whenever I had a chance in the evenings, I’d make up an excuse about picking up some more walnuts for Namjoon’s stash, and I’d head out. They told me to be back in an hour, hence the sixty minutes. But I’d take the train to the night market, go straight to that stall and pick up some tteok-bokki. I knew that I couldn’t just call you up and ask to go with you, and I was kind of selfish and didn’t want the other guys to come along. It was...I don’t know, I wanted it to be our thing. So I’d go there and hope I’d run into you. Make it look like an accident, so we could hang out. Just the two of us.” He laughs quietly to himself. “I sound like a stalker, don’t I?”

You only manage to shake your head, at a complete loss for words. Taehyung continues on, feeling the need to get it all out.

“In my mind, I thought that it would at least take you about fifteen or so minutes to get from the night market to the Han, so I’d run down to grab the walnuts and then head up here,” he gestures to the bridge. “And I’d look out and see if I could spot you. Maybe run down to meet you, pretending to bump into you. Give me...an excuse to see you.”

Taehyung glances over at you for a minute, looking a little embarrassed. You stare back, the shock evident on your face.

“Really?” It’s the only word you manage to get out. He smiles gingerly, huffing out a breath.

“Really. Does it creep you out?”

You snort, scooting over a little closer. Taehyung instinctively wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you against him.

“No.”

“No?”

Taking a deep breath, you take a leap. “Am I allowed to tell you that I sometimes wished I’d run into you?”

Taehyung tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, looking at you with an indescribable emotion. “I don’t think you should.”

You frown. “Why not?”

The moon and the stars as your only witness, Taehyung gives you a long look before leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. He lingers for a few seconds, his warm lips reminding you of spring after a bitter winter.

When he pulls away, he gazes down at you and you just know that he’s memorizing this moment. Tucking it away for a rainy day, similar to the rain clouds behind his eyes. “I’m scared of hoping.”

In the span of five syllables, he’s completely shattered your heart. It’s now that you recognize that look in his eyes.

How many nights has he sat up here, waiting for you to come along? Hoping that you’d bump into him at the night market, delighted to see him?

Hope can be just as devastating as it is uplifting.

Taehyung sees how you’re dying to reassure him, dying to just give your heart over to him at that moment. He knows it, sees how it could play out. But before you can open your mouth, he’s stopping you.

“For now, let’s just enjoy the view and try to stay warm,” he murmurs, pulling you impossibly closer. You rest your head against his shoulder, heart still aching from his small confession. “Don’t worry, jagiya. Just remember to have fun, ok? You’ve still got five dates, don’t forget that.”

How could you?

Time ticks by all too quickly as the two of you remain snuggled up together atop the bridge. Eventually you fall into a quiet conversation, Taehyung chatting happily about how he had a mini crisis on night when he came on this route and Namjoon complained about having not finished the walnuts from last night. He’d had to find some other sort of enticing treat that would act as a cover for him.

“When it comes down to it,” he says as the two of you enter the subway and find a seat. “I didn’t want the boys to find out, because I didn’t want them to think I was going behind their backs. They all deserve a chance, and me trying to find a way to bend the rules wouldn’t have gone over well.”

You marvel at how perfectly his hand fits in yours, sighing contentedly as the subway rumbles on. “You always have been a rule-breaker.”

You’re exhausted from having run all over Seoul, nearly falling asleep as you get back to Taehyung’s car. He grins at you, turning on the heater and beginning the drive back to your apartment. Your eyes struggle to remain open, slipping closed every few seconds.

“Sleep, jagiya,” Taehyung urges. “I’ll wake you up when we get there.”

“N-no,” you say between yawns. “I’m fine.”

Taehyung chuckles to himself when you fall asleep about thirty seconds later. The sound drifts into your dreams, where you dream of art museums and the Han river.

Needless to say, you’re a bit disappointed to be woken up from your beautiful dream when Taehyung opens up the passenger side door and crouches before you. He can’t help but laugh at how adorable you look, completely disoriented and staring at him like you can’t quite place where you’ve seen him before.

“Hey,” he whispers. “We’re home.”

Gently unbuckling your seatbelt, Taehyung helps you out of the car and only continues to laugh as you wrap your arms around his waist and bury your head in his chest.

“I’m so tired,” you groan. “I wanna go to bed.”

“Well, you can. You just have to unlock your door first, jagi.”

Somehow, in your half-asleep state you manage to fish your keys out of your bag. Taehyung helps you unlock the door, swooping in to help you when you nearly trip over your doorway.

“Woah, watch where you’re going,” he teases. Suddenly the world turns sideways as Tae places his hands under your knees and around your waist, literally sweeping you off your feet. “How about we get you to bed in one piece?”

Some small, semi-conscious part of your brain is currently screaming about how embarrassing yet attractive this entire situation is, but for the life of you, you can’t tell why. Instead, you opt to nuzzle in a little closer to Tae’s sweater as he uses his foot to kick the door shut.

“I love this sweater,” you mumble, eyes falling shut again. “You look so good in this sweater, did you know that?”

“Oh...thanks. And yes, that’s why I wore it.”

You hiss, swatting at his chest. “That was very narcissistic of you.”

“You’re too tired to walk, but you’re using words like narcissistic?” He shoots back. Making his way through the dark house, he enters your room and sets you down on the edge of the bed. You sit up straight, watching as his silhouette turns on your bedside lamp. Squinting at him, he crouches down before you, resting a light hand on your knee.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“You’re welcome,” he whispers back. “You need anything before I go?”

Always finding a way to push the limits, you smirk down at him. “Are kisses really off-limits- ow!” You rub your knee where he just flicked it, appalled at him as he straightens up.

“Don’t get greedy,” he teases with a raised brow. Heading out of the room, he turns back to look at you from the doorway. “Goodnight.”

It’s this moment that you memorize. The way the light from the lamp barely reaches him, his dark hair a little messy and a tired smile on his face. The way he leans up against your door, looking for all the world like he belongs here.

“Goodnight, Tae.”

Your ears strain to hear his footsteps, a fissure forming in your heart as you hear him closing the door and driving off into the night. Eventually, sleep takes over.

Even as you dream, the feeling of being wrapped up in Taehyung’s arms while sitting above the Han River lingers.

main masterlist

again, your opinion matters! especially in this series! if you’re comfortable with it, please please please comment or send me an ask with your thoughts! (i.e. chemistry, how this date differed from Hobi’s date, ect.) thank you for reading, and I’ll see you next Saturday with date #3!!

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[tjkiahgb]

Episode Recap: 3.17, “Arts and Inhumanities”

The episode starts with some glamour shots of Andi’s art piece. It shows off a lot of the cool little details of it.

Then it shows this...

...which isn’t as impressive.

Or this one...

I feel like the crushed can of La Croix wasn’t Andi’s addition. I think someone was leaving lunch and saw a pile of trash and thought, “Oh, I guess we’re just doing this now,” and they threw it on the pile.

Bex takes pictures of the piece like a proud mother.

Is this in a different part of the school? Did they move this cumbersome thing across the school? How many people did that take? There must be paper shreddings everywhere.

Bex continues to take pictures and ask questions and make attempts to impress passersby.

Bex asks Andi where she learned to do art and Andi tries to play it down, saying it’s not art like Picasso or... you know... other artists whose names don’t come to mind.

Andi says she knows crafts, not art, and, after all, it’s arts and crafts, not arts are crafts. Bex still wants to know where she learned to make this and Andi isn’t sure.

“The rage just took over my body. I blacked out and when I woke up, I was standing in the middle of school and there it was.”

Another kid comes over and asks if Andi is the artist and Bex gets excited as Andi tries to put an end to the whole discussion.

But, listen Andi, you know how you become an artist? You call yourself an artist. That’s it. And you just keep doing that until people are too scared to look stupid by saying they don’t get your art. That’s what the guy who painted the drips did and now his paintings sell for the GDP of a small island nation.

That’s right, Jackson Pollock, I’m calling you out. Meet me in the parking lot of the Waffle House and we’ll throw hands, unless you’re a coward.

Buffy and Cyrus hang out at the bowling alley.

Cyrus does some light calisthenics to prepare.

Buffy tries to figure out what he’s doing. He says according to his research a bowling ball should be about 10% of the bowler’s weight, which, fine, but how is this measuring 10% of his body weight? The balls say how much they weigh on them. Why does he need to do this strange dance like he’s trying to sacrifice his bowling ball to the sun god?

Also, I don’t think they make bowling balls that are seven pounds soaking wet.

Buffy heads off to put their names in the name machine.

Cyrus, you’ve had your Bar Mitzvah. You’re a Bumper Man now.

Buffy gimps badly through the alley.

She spots Marty. He immediately asks her what’s up with her limp. She deflects. He asks her seriously if she’s okay and, panicking because she might have to admit to weakness, she’s turns and goes, oh!

New person!

Marty introduces Rachel as his girlfriend and Buffy cracks a few jokes about not thinking she was real, that maybe she was one of those imaginary girlfriends who “lives in Canada.”

Rachel’s like, EXCUSE ME?! CANADA?? How dare you even suggest I’d ever go to such a place?!

Buffy and Marty try desperately to explain it was just a joke.

Buffy, realizing she’s just created an air of awkwardness so thick you could shape it into a ball and use it to bowl, excuses herself.

Marty mentions her foot again. Buffy tries to play it off once more as just sore. In fact, she says, it’s getting better. You know, how injuries work. They start out a little painful, then get worse and worse and worse until you can barely walk, and then one day, they’re fully healed and you’re good to go. The human body is so mysterious. No one truly understands it.

Marty texts Buffy info on a foot doctor, even as she insists she doesn’t need one. “I’m fine! Honestly, I hope it just falls off. I don’t even want it anymore. Two working feet? Who can even be bothered?”

Rachel’s like, are we just going to stand around here all day talking about feet or are we gonna bowl?

Buffy limps back to Cyrus. She tells him how unpleasant it was meeting Marty’s girlfriend, even though she’s happy he’s got one. Cyrus is like, give that a minute, because Rachel is over there doing some weird thing where she whisper-screams at Marty.

You can really see why Marty fell for Rachel. Sure, on one hand, she has no sense of humor, but she’s also quickly prone to jealousy and anger. That’s what they call the total package.

Also, what does she mean “How did she know?” How did Buffy know what? Wait. Is Rachel actually Canadian? Is this like some horrible secret she didn’t want anybody to know? “If anyone finds out, it’s nothing but poutine jokes and people saying ‘Eh?’ to me from here on out! I can’t live like that!”

I mean, it’s either that or that she’s actually imaginary.

Cyrus is like, you think she’s talking about you? Buffy’s like, no, she’s probably gesticulating angrily at someone else in this direction.

Rachel storms off and Marty chases after her.

Buffy and Cyrus go back to their bowling. Cyrus finally picks a ball and gives it the gentlest of pushes down the lane.

It rolls as slow as it can get before being considered technically immobile and knocks over a single pin.

At least there’s room for improvement.

At Red Rooster, Jonah plays guitar and hides from Amber in the place she’d most expect to find him.

This is just a rookie mistake on Jonah’s part. He kept his back to the door! Any crime lord will tell you, you always keep your eyes on the door so they can’t sneak up on you and ask you if you’re writing them a song.

Amber’s like, I’m just kidding about you writing me a song, though if you wanted to, here are some words.

I like gerrymander. If this comes together right, could be the next great political protest/love song.

Jonah wants to know what Amber wants. Amber wants to hang out. She says she tried texting him and wants to know if something’s wrong with his phone. He’s like, yeah, it keeps giving you ways to try and get in touch with me.

He says it was on silent. Amber wants to ask him a question.

Well, see, the thing is Amber, okay means different things to different people. For some people it means that the relationship is going well. For others... well, you’re both still alive and breathing so...

Jonah insists things are fine, but then Amber asks to hang out and watch him practice guitar and Jonah’s like, CAN’T! CHESS!

He says he’s going to meet Cyrus for lessons. Amber’s like, you don’t seem like a chess guy, you know, because of the whole inability to think about stuff thing.

Jonah’s like, yeah, well, that’s why I’m practicing. He heads for the door. Amber asks about tomorrow. Jonah says to text him. She jokes to make sure his phone isn’t on silent and Jonah’s like, *finger guns*

And Amber’s like, okay, *finger guns* we’re doomed...

And I’m like, Amber, look at the sign, girl!

I mean, literally, look at that sign behind you.

The prop guys know what’s up.

Over at Andi’s, Andi works in her room when Bex comes in asking if Andi got her email. Andi reasserts that no one uses email. Bex tells her to just check her email, so Andi opens her computer, where she has a folder for pictures and another, separate folder for “Pictures o’ Stuff”

Aren’t all pictures pictures of stuff? How does this filing system help at all?

She opens up her email.

Oh, nobody opens email anymore? Then explain to me why you checked two emails from Social Post yesterday! What’s the truth?!

Oh, and by the way, Olivia sent you help with the files and you didn’t even have the common courtesy to at least reply with a “Thanks”? Rude.

Anyway, Bex sent Andi a link to the website for the Shadyside Academy of Visual Arts, or SAVA.

SAVA is a high school for the arts that Bex thinks Andi should apply to. She says the application is due by the end of the month, so think about it, but think quickly.

Andi checks out the application. First it asks her to upload her portfolio, which is preposterous because how can you upload a trash sculpture into a computer? I mean, come on.

Andi skips that and looks at the next screen, which tells her to list any rewards she’s received.

That’s not nothing. She skips that question, too.

The last thing asks for three recommendations from her art instructors. She has no art instructors.

Andi shuts down her computer and goes back to her school work.

Hear me out, though. What better way to showcase your creativity than craft an entire résumé out of whole cloth? Say that you won the blue ribbon at the “Cloud Ten Art Show”. Bex will lie for you. Invent three art instructors and their recommendations and if someone asks you for their contact info, say that they all decided to retire and live off the grid. Tell Metcalf you're doing a social experiment on high school admissions officers and he’ll back you up.

Back at the bowling alley, Buffy tries to order food while a couple has an uncomfortably loud fight in public behind her.

Marty swears to Rachel that Buffy is just a friend, but Rachel thinks Buffy’s interested in him. Rachel is positive that there’s something going on and that Marty wishes he was with Buffy instead of her. Marty tries to insist otherwise.

Buffy, trying to sneak away from the scene in a hurry, steps too hard on her foot and screams out in pain.

In a totally healthy way, though. It was a scream of pain in acknowledgment that her foot was almost all better.

Marty runs towards her and Rachel’s like, I knew it.

You ran to help someone in pain? Final straw, mister!

That night, at Bex’s, the family gathers for dinner. Bex asks Andi if she filled out the application to SAVA, but Andi says she didn’t. She doesn’t have a portfolio, or awards, or any letters of recommendation. Bowie asks if Andi really needs art school when she has Andi Shack. Bex says he hasn’t seen the place, but Andi points out that neither has she.

Oh really? If that’s true, then explain this!

You can’t! There’s no explanation for it existing in the year of our Lord 2019.

Bowie points out that neither of them has actually been to the school, and maybe before they decide anything, that would be a useful thing to do.

For having this insight, he is viciously attacked.

At the movies the next day, Jonah points out to Cyrus how films about people who have magic powers but don’t use them effectively are dumb as hell.

Cyrus spots Amber and calls her over. This upsets Jonah because that was the last thing he wanted to happen.

Amber’s like, no lesson today? Jonah’s like, we’re about to lesson! She asks Cyrus how Jonah’s doing.

Jonah says it’s going slow. Honestly, he could see himself wrapped up in trying to learn chess for the next three to four years. Amber wishes them luck and walks away.

Cyrus asks Jonah what that was all about. Jonah explains that Amber was getting too clingy so he lied to her about learning chess from Cyrus to get away. That presents a slight problem.

Jonah’s like, that’s fine, I’m not really taking lessons.

This, obviously, opens him up to easily getting caught in a lie. He should’ve gone with something he knew for sure that Cyrus could’ve taught him, like Hebrew or how to run in an awkward fashion.

Later, at Cyrus’s house, Amber sits down with Cyrus for a therapy session. He says let’s dive in, and Amber says, yes, let’s. And then she reaches down under the table...

and she pulls out an entire chess set from out of nowhere!

And not just a chess set. A fully-prepared chess set. Where the hell did this come from?!

Hold on, I gotta to try and figure this out.

She pulled it out from under the table like it was already there, like it was Cyrus’s parents’ set, but then you’d think Cyrus wouldn’t be so caught off-guard. He’d probably think, oh, Amber is coming over and there’s that whole thing about me pretending to teach Jonah chess, I should probably hide the fully-prepared chess set my parents keep under the table at all times, just to be safe. Just so I don’t get caught in a situation where my lack of chess knowledge is exposed.

Plus, Amber’s plan here requires a chess set, so she couldn’t leave this to chance. Even if she saw it there before, it could’ve been moved or it might not be fully-prepared.

No, she brought this chess set from home. But how could she bring a fully-prepared chess set from home and sneak it in when Cyrus would be the one letting her in the house? He’d surely notice her holding something like that.

No. No, no no no. No. She came ahead of time. She came ahead of time and either got one of Cyrus’s parents to let her in while he wasn’t home, or, and this is my guess, she broke into the house with a chess set, snuck upstairs with it, and prepared it under the table. Then she snuck out and scheduled an appointment with Cyrus to talk so she could spring this on him! The dedication to this scheme is unbelievable!

Cyrus tries to get Amber to stay on topic, but Amber says this is the topic. She starts pressing Cyrus on his chess knowledge and his story immediately starts to fall apart.

Then Amber mentions she knows a thing or two about chess.

You know, she says that, but I don’t know if I believe it. Seeing how the rest of this plan went, I’m guessing she pulled an all-nighter last night and learned the ins-and-outs of chess out of spite.

Cyrus makes two moves and Amber checkmates him. This is the very rare -- though appropriately named -- scenario known as the “Fool’s mate.”

See, it’s called that because you’d have to commit a very serious blunder for it to happen, like agreeing to play chess when you know hardly anything about chess instead of insisting that you stick to the topic or ending the volunteer therapy session.

Amber’s upset that Jonah lied to her and that Cyrus stood there and let him lie. That’s fair, but also, the two of them are only standing in this room at this moment because of a series of her lies and deceptions, so, are any of us truly free from sin?

Amber’s like, why would you do that? Cyrus says Jonah’s his friend. Amber wants to know what about her? Cyrus says she’s his friend, too.

I mean, yeah? Let’s be honest, we’ve all ranked our friends. If you don’t know which of your friends you’d lie to to help your other friends, you’re not properly prepared.

Amber walks out. And without her chess set? She bought it just for this ambush, didn’t she?

Cyrus feels bad about the whole thing.

Maybe psychology isn’t for him anyway. Maybe he might do better in something like... law?

At school, Buffy takes off her shoe to check on her totally-fine, better than ever foot.

Marty shows up and tells her to get it checked on. She’s like, don’t tell me how to live my life, I don’t tell you how to live yours.

Like getting sad and disappearing for a year and a half.

Marty says he broke up with Rachel, or rather, Rachel broke up with him. Either way, it’s over and he’s fine with it. I find that hard to believe. He says that now, but in a couple of weeks, he’s really going to miss how she always never laughed at his jokes.

Buffy says she hopes the breakup wasn’t over her, but Marty says no matter how many times he told Rachel he and Buffy were just friends, she insisted it was more.

He’s like, don’t worry, I’m not into you. And Buffy’s like, oh good. Wait.

Marty says they really work as friends. The bell rings and Buffy sends Marty off with a promise she’ll talk to a doctor.

Bex and Andi tour SAVA, where they’re doing all kinds of cool art stuff.

Like these pipes. Or those lines on the wall. Really demystifies art, huh?

Back at school, Jonah heads out and Cyrus runs to catch up. Jonah gives him props for doing something physical without wheezing.

Cyrus warns Jonah that Amber figured out the chess was a ruse. Jonah panics. He realizes he needs to find a new reason to hide from her. He’s like this close to faking his own death and coming back with a fake mustache as Jonah’s long lost twin, Jonas.

Amber shows up. She’s like, I know how you can avoid spending time with me: break up with me.

Cyrus apologizes but Amber’s like, eh, forget it, I’ve already lost interest.

Cyrus excuses himself.

Amber and Jonah talk. He apologizes, says he didn’t want to hurt her, and says he hopes they can still be friends.

Amber says, for future reference, don’t drag out a break up and make the person you’re breaking up with feel like an idiot. Amber walks off, leaving Jonah saddened.

I feel like maybe they’ve both learned a valuable lesson.

Jonah should just be forward with a break up if that’s what he really wants, and maybe Amber shouldn’t date 8th graders when she’s a sophomore in high school and expect a loving, mature relationship.

At SAVA, Andi returns to Bex to see what she thinks of the place.

Bex thinks it’s impressive. Andi asks her how hard she thinks it is to get in. Bex is like, I don’t know, we should probably look that up. Probably. Could be really good knowledge to have in this situation.

Especially because Andi’s really buying in to this school.

I mean, yeah. If you were designing a school from scratch to match Andi’s personality, it would look just like this. This would be like if Buffy went to check out a high school and when the bell rung after class, all the kids raced through an American Gladiators-style obstacle course in the halls to their next class.

Andi asks Bex if she still thinks she can get in and Bex says of course, but then Andi walks off and Bex is like...

Ehhh, I hope so.

[oddats]

Deniz Gül is a Turkish contemporary artist preoccupied with language, surface and excavation whose conceptual practice encompasses sculpture and writing. Her show Meydan opened in September 2020 at Yapı Kredi Kültür Sanat in Istanbul, and a second exhibition, Crystal Clear will be held at the Pera Museum in December; she is currently working on a solo show for SALT in 2021. One of the first shows to open in Istanbul following the Covid-19 global pandemic, Meydan is a meditation on public space, surface and the texture of the city, a collection of minimalist sculptures that makes references to the city’s iconic Galatasaray Square over which the exhibition space looks.

Interview by Thomas Roueché Portrait by Korhan Karaoysal

Thomas Roueché How did you become an artist? Deniz Gül Oh wow! I had nothing to do with art when I was at high school. I went to an American school for high school, and then I attended Sabancı University. There you could choose your major after two years. The story started like this: my high school provided you with a lot of clubs and teachers and then when I was at university I found it in the middle of nowhere, dull, and with students from all over the country, so I was estranged from this new environment. I was bored by campus life, and I felt really enclosed. I took one art class just for fun and there I had a teacher, Erdağ Aksel, who was a well-known sculptor. He kind of picked me. He thought that I would make a great artist. So it was a very spontaneous beginning; it came from boredom. I graduated in 2004. The classes we had were conceptual – I had nothing to do with my hands – so when I left the school I thought, what am I going to do? What does it mean to be an artist? Those were the days in which many international curators were coming and scouting young artists in Istanbul and taking them to workshops and residencies, so I was lucky that I could make such connections outside of Turkey. But eventually I began to focus more seriously on my work, on what my statement was. Over the past 10 years my work has been about developing the sentences of that statement into paragraphs, into books, and I formulated a closed space for myself where I have my own world, my own references. For that reason I tend to make solo shows. I focus on what I want to say and I approach each show like an album: each has its own tracks within it, and each show references the other, but ultimately they stand alone. They have their own identities as personas.

TR Much of your work is about public and private space. I’m interested in how this show responds to the building in which it is in. You told me you had two months, a relatively short period of time, to put together the show. Were you thinking about its location from the beginning? DG It was exactly why I wanted to do it. When the curator, Kevser Güler, asked me if I was interested I said no. But I was interested in this building, which looks over the historic Galatasaray Meydan and its façade. So meydan was the first thing that came to my mind. That was the keyword, and I became convinced that I would make it. I opened the gallery floor to the windows looking onto the Meydan, so that light seeps into the space. Thus the Meydan passes through the windows of the facade and makes its way into the space, which for me achieves a form of layering of inside and outside space. It’s like a transition. The dimensions of the exhibition space are what they are – I just propose light motifs, not heavy objects, with the aim of transforming the space into something more psychological.

TR There’s a very obvious inversion of the open space of the Meydan into the enclosed space of the gallery. Of course, a large part of the Meydan, in front of the gallery building itself, is fenced off by police barriers in an attempt to stop the various protests that occur there, most famously the Saturday Mothers protest regarding the disappeared. Of course, the building is also not far from where the Gezi Park protests happened. At the same time, meydan as a term has a far wider, international resonance. I’m interested that in the English version of the text you didn’t translate it. DG What word would you use? Square doesn’t really cover it. It’s very structural, and in some ways it goes along with modernist ideas of planning the city, but at the same time, in Turkish, it has many colloquial and proverbial resonances that cannot possibly be translated. This word, like any word, is a living organism. That’s why I like to think of it as a private word rather than something that can be translated. It’s like the name of a child – or an album. Its attributes shift and change with time and era.

TR Some of your works have a mythical quality to them; I’m thinking in particular of the works in your 2011 show, 5 Person Buffet. DG That show was very related to what I am talking about in this exhibition. It was structured around five cabinets: spaces that you could fit your body into and close yourself within, but that opened into the street. At the centre was a table made of boiling milk. It functioned as the fountain for the monumental cupboards. I thought of the cabinets as indoor monuments, that I could fit myself into. Outside there was this fountain, or meeting place. But in the house that’s a table. In the house, rather than water, it’s the smell of milk that captures you in the collective domestic space. Milk sets the ground for being a unit as a family in the house. So when the milk boils it’s like boiling energy in this space. It’s very much about the collective consciousness.

TR If that’s an album about interior spaces, this is clearly a show about outside space. Did the experience of the quarantine make you want to look outwards? Had you had enough of interior life? DG When I did 5 Person Buffet, I felt like I was locked inside the cabinets. I was attempting to break out of them. It was always about coming out. But I couldn’t. I was restrained by these object-like, monument-like sculptural objects, by this furniture, let’s say. But during the last 10 years I feel like I am claiming and reclaiming space. That’s my statement with Meydan. While the pandemic has meant that the edges of our conceptions of the house, the street, the meydan, have dissolved, at the same time I feel more able to claim spaces. My proposition within this gallery is not just about the loss of meydans – which is a catastrophic reality of the world we are in right now – it is also a self-reflection of my own practice as it appeared as sculpture and has now shifted to surfaces. Like this kind of vibration. Somehow I can’t make monumental vertical works in the same way; I’ve lost that ground. At the same time, there is still oppression in the show; it’s still a claustrophobic environment, because of the grey walls, but I’m still trying to open a space that can be claimed. For me, there are no more objects in this show. I’m working with thin surfaces that suggest objects.

TR It’s interesting that in a time in which people have been confined to their homes we have also seen massive protest movements, most obviously with Black Lives Matter in the States, which have consciously transformed how we think about public space during the pandemic. Do you think the emptying of public space has changed who it is who can claim it? A lot of your work feels like it is concerned with touch and surfaces, which obviously feels particularly charged today, and particularly in the context of public space and social distancing. DG A lot of people who have come to see the show have commented that they felt the space had a lot of tension, because of the placement of the works. There’s a sense of an impact that outweighs the small gestures of the work. At the same time, it’s still about opening space. Coronavirus stretched our sense of time, and many things now appear from a different perspective. Time and space have stretched – we can no longer travel as easily, for example. So I was stretching the space with these surface-like elements, not even objects, barely forms – fragile in a way, subtle and minimal. But at the same time this positions you as a body inside the space, and it becomes hard to tell what is a work and what is not. The result is a feeling of relief at being emptied out, and with that comes another body language, and another way of seeing how you are a part of things. For me, this really resonates with the era of pandemic. The quarantine had an effect on me but it’s not something that I directly thought about. The gallery is an isolated space, one that has an effect on its visitors. The way in which we construct ourselves all the time has changed. People are just letting things be, everyone has to somehow adapt and change the scale of their lives. A friend of mine who came to visit the show said, “Wow, I felt so lonely all of a sudden.”

TR For such slight works, the impact is very heavy. But the impact of quarantine, of spending so much time alone indoors, changes the meaning of something like a gallery show or exhibition. DG At the end of the day, it’s a lot about atmosphere. There is a certain atmosphere in the space, and in different parts of it. But then what even is an exhibition space? Many are very problematic, in the sense of programming, but also in the sense of architecture; they impose a certain way of seeing things whereas I am trying to take away that curtain and leave the building just as it is.

TR People always used to meet in front of the school on the square, and it’s interesting that people don’t do that any more. DG It’s like a texture, meeting in front of the school gives a certain texture to the city, to the square. That’s why I’m interested in texture. I am a super optimistic person. It’s weird; it’s absurd. The act here is about claiming space. What interests me about the Black Lives Matter protests this summer is that it was not a march or a protest of the same sort. It was still a march and still a protest, but it was unlike those that came before. It was not so much about claiming space but reclaiming it. It’s a very exciting time. On the one hand, all of these old forms are collapsing, no longer able to hold together, and on the other hand we don’t know what is coming. At the same time technology has gained authority, the way it has been owned and these power dynamics remain oppressive and strong. There is another type of organisation that is happening. How art spaces and museums ought to function in these times is a huge question. People have had very valid critiques of their role – that their sole job is not to make exhibitions. When this invitation came to me, really I asked, what can I say? What kind of show would I make? What would I show? This idea of reconfiguring the meydan excited me – reconfigured still with these oppressive edges and textures and elements, but on the other hand still not being something other than itself. Just being is enough, that excited me. It’s a laissez tomber of narrative, but I didn’t want to be there as the narrator this time. I don’t feel like one. ◉