#like still. give that poor store dude a chair he suffers enough

[brakish-tea]

I think in order to get rid of programmed and/or internalized abelism in society, we need to get rid of capitalism. Abled people don't want to lose their invincibility complex because that they don't want to have to rely on others or need a support network. And that isolation is something that I think results from capitalism. Like if we understood more widely that we are all interconnected and need to help each other then I think disability would stop being so scary for newly or newly discovered disabled folk and would be less stigmatized as 'weakness' by abelists. It wouldn't fix the problem but I think it would help.

[makncheese12]

Top Shelf

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

Jenna Ortega x fem!reader

Masterlist

Summary: being the kid of a well-known book store owner was easy, so was running into famous people. But being book smart doesn’t make everyone people smart.

Warnings: my writing, language(bad words😯), my attempt at being funny, mention of gun shots and head shots, mentions of my favorite book(literally love Ruta Sepetys sm omg.

A/N: part 2? I am going to make you all suffer through the most oblivious slow burn. R if going to be so dumb/oblivious it’ll hurt you all🫶🏻

Word count - 3.6k

Credits: @novmoth (my friend from school who feeds into my delusions and gives me more ideas for this story🫶🏻)

(bare with me English is not my first language🥲 I’m getting help from my friend to edit it)

You were born to it.

The books. The films. The music and video games.

It was your life, literally. With your parents being owners of the infamous establishment called ‘top shelf’, you had no choice but to.

And you wouldn’t ever change.

Books upon books, movie after movie, games old and new and music that could last you weeks. Who would want to change such a life?

Your father was the first to start it.

He was poor man in Washington but had just enough money to buy it from the man who owned the small movie shop before he retired. He slowly started added book shelves and video games to the mix. Getting few customers but enough to survive day to day during the time of his early years

Your mother was a wealthy run away. Wanting something different and new in her life when she met your father. The man was playing on his game boy behind the counter before he saw her.

The poor boy and his run away wife, a classic really.

The rest after that is history.

As soon as they found out your mother was pregnant with you, they used the rest of her money they saved and went to New York where they bought the huge abandoned apartment complex.

They broke all the insides down and built what you now know as your second home. Hundreds of video games, films and music in one section and thousands of books in another.

Thus, Top Shelf was born only two weeks after you.

You met many friends there in the comfort section where students and business people worked as you all goofed off.

Your had also met your small friend group during your younger years, the four of you all never letting your father have the peace he wanted and dragging him all over New York.

With the thousands of books and hundreds of video games and films your parents sold, you had money. Lots of it.

But your mother made sure you never let that get the best of you, never. It went against everything she went for when she ran away.

She would make sure you would work for and earn everything you got, always.

She never let you have too much online activity, in case her family found you and made sure you were both street smart and book smart.

Your neighbors made sure you were street smart more than anything but you still gave her credit for trying.

Though, the book store was beautiful in every season. Winter was a favorite and when it was busiest. It was too your favorite.

Your father lighting the public fire place, your mother setting soft seasonal music, hell even the cheesy Christmas cartoons on the TV’s set the mood for the perfect bookstore vibe.

The lights dim just enough to where it almost felt like dark academy yet the plants that grew down the upstairs railing made the entire place feel more alive.

————

“Bullshit!” You yell out as you throw your head back onto the head rest of your chair, groaning loudly as the photo sound of your death snapped in your ears.

“Man, he’s fucking using cheats!” Dru calls out through the mic before his name pops up above to yours in dark red on the screen as you respawn.

“Of course he is, he’s a pussy.” Mj says, as her name, too, pops up on the screen.

“Oh come on, guys!” Lyle says through his staticky mic. “You all just suck.” He laughs

“Now I know your cheating, dude. Your mic is acting up again, just like last time!” Dru says, the sound of his voice booming louder than needed and you roll my eyes.

“DD, just because you like to replay games without using cheats doesn’t mean the rest of us do.” Lyle says in a matter-of-fact tone.

“It’s multiplayer, stupid! It’s meant to be fair for everyone!” Dru says making you snort. “Says the guy who chases around little kids and steals their horses making them cry.” Mj says making Dru blow into his mic making loud, unnecessary noises.

“Quit that!” You say taking one head phone off your ear. “Tsk tsk tsk,” Lyle starts. “Such a sore loser.”

“I’ll show you sore loser, get on Elden ring and we’ll test your irritation.” Dru says, mic now muffled by his own spit.

“Your tank build is not enough to stop me, comet azur will always save the day.” He says in a sing-song voice.

“And you call me a try hard, yet you’re the one always using a broken spell.” Dru complains. “Theres nothing I have to try hard at when I can just hold a simple button.” The sound of Dru’s groans become louder as his spit clears out from his Mic. “Same thing!”

You laugh once again before picking up your phone and looking at the time.

“Shit!” Your eyes go wide at the sight, 8:48 AM.

You quickly throw the head set off and push yourself out of the chair, opening your closet grabbing a quick pair of jeans and a hoodie before rushing to put it all on.

Your cat skids across the floor, startled by your sudden movements before a crashing in the your pile of books and out the door.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you mumble as you jump up and down to put on your shoes, failing at not falling and race toward the door. “Sorry!” You call to your cat who yells at you next to his food bowl.

You grab your keys and rush out the door before slamming it shut and locking it.

“Ay, y/n!” Your neighbor, Rosa, shouts from beside her door. “Quiet will you! I just put Nona to sleep!” She yells raising her news paper tapping your head with it.

“Sorry! sorry, Señora Rosa.” You whisper yell as you try to push her weaponized hand away. “I’m just a little late.”

“And I just got a moment of peace! Quiet!” She says giving you one last wack making you try and shrink away from her as you rush toward the stairs.

“You got your pepper spray, right?” She calls and you raise your key chain to show her the attached small can. “¡Buena niña!”

You rush down the stairs and push passed the glass door, almost slipping on the ice before running down the street.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket making you quickly take it out.

“Hello?” You ask without knowing who it was.

“Arthur Morgan would be very disappointed at your sudden disappearance from an important mission.” Lyle says before sighing.

“It’s multiplayer, there are no main missions.” You say, trying to avoid the ice on the ground before stopping at the red hand across the street. “Plus, we were in the middle of four way 1v1. He’d be more upset that we were going against each other.”

“Loyalty is everything in such a game,” he says, sarcasm in his voice and you imagine him shaking his head. “Of course he would be upset at my bullet in DD’s head.”

“Why’d you call me exactly?” You ask watching the hand turn into a green man walking before taking off again.

“Well, you just yelled ‘shit!’ Before disappearing on us, had to make sure someone didn’t break in and kill you.” He replies casually as if he knew that weren’t the case. “But after hearing you continue on your ‘shit’ rant and the door slam I figured it was okay, just had to call and make sure, y’know?”

“Ever heard of a text, loser?” You ask, barley missing a man walking and looking down at his phone. “Gross,” he says before making a gagging noise. “why waste such time typing when I can simply just hit one button?”

“You’re so lazy.” You laugh out loud as you run across another street. “Work smarter not harder, Y/N. You should know this with that big brain of yours.”

“What if I want to work both smarter and harder?” You ask, running up to the glass window to see the books lined up. “Well, then your just weird.” You roll your eyes.

“Just kidding. I guess you can do both, I just personally prefer the alternative.” He says as the sound of guns shooting fills the phone. “Yeah, also sorry about leaving.” You say pushing into the store being greeting with the familiar smell of books and the warm smile of my mother.

“I forgot I had to get ready for work.”

“You’re at top shelf?” He ask and you reply with a ‘mhm’. “I might stop by later to say hello actually, I need a new game anyway.” He laughs as the sound of Dru yelling in the back ground becomes more prominent.

“Sounds good, see you loser” You say as you take your sweat shirt off, leaving you in your tank top you hand before leaving. “Later,” you hear him say before hanging up.

“Good morning,” you hear your mother say as you pull the staff sweat shirt over your head and pull up your sleeves. “Mornin’,” you reply before kissing her cheek.

“Wheres dad?” You ask looking around before your eyes setting on the woman stack a pile of books into one pile.

“He’s going to be out of town for a few days,” she says carrying the pile to the check back station. “A vacation, I insisted as I continue your training.” She says making you smile.

“We both know he needs it, he’s getting older.” She says and your smile fades as you nod. “So are you.” You mumble and she, too, nods.

“You know him getting old is different from me getting old.” She states, sighing quietly.

“What’s todays task?” You ask, quickly changing the subject at the sight of her sad frown. She looks at you for a moment before smiling once again.

She moves to storage closet and unlocks it, allowing you to see the boxes upon boxes along with stacks of different other things.

“To be a good store owner, you have to know your customers.” She says returning with a large box that you quickly take from her.

“Just put it on that table — and to know your customers, you must socialize and help them throughout the store.” She finishes as you take the box to the table noticing the label romance written across it.

“That also means having to work while helping the customers, so you’ll be on stock duty as well.” She says with a smile.

Yes.

You mentally say to yourself. Stock duty required work of you finding the places of different books, movies and games which also meant finding new things you didn’t know about before.

“One more thing,” you mother says as she walks behind the counter to finish opening up the store. “No head phones.” Your eyes go wide.

“But ma!” You call out to the lady who switches the sign from closed to open. “What else am I supposed to do when I stock!” You call, holding onto the white cords and swinging them around.

“Help the customers and socialize.” She laughs out making you frown. “I should call CPS.” You mumble carrying the box to the sorted area before hearing the woman’s laugh.

“Sure, call ahead but don’t be disappointed when they decline a twenty year old.”

You roll your eyes before continuing down the aisle.

“And after you sort those, get the others out of the storage closet!” You huff quietly as you glance back with a small playful glare on your face.

“If I wanted to work out, I would have gone to the gym.” You say and she rolls her eyes. “You’ll be just as sore in the morning, trust me.”

————

Hours hand passed, since you last seen the romance box having moved on to the horror section of the films.

You search through their placement areas, looking at all the old cinematic master pieces, the many Dracula films placed neatly next to each other, in order of both year and name.

Horror was one of the favorites when coming here, your father being a collected through his years he had many people couldn’t get their hands on.

Sure you could watch it online now but where’s the fun in that when you have a real copy with the static noises and written voices on screen. Some people still had some class left in them.

You hear a book hit the floor making the library echo as heads turned toward the cause of the sudden interruption of their silence.

“Shit—” You hear someone say quietly, making you roll your eyes as you place the rest of the CD’s in their rightful places before making your way toward the aisle the noise came from.

You subtly make your way toward the aisle while acting like your checking the books before taking a peek around the corner.

You see a rather short girl — shorter than the third shelf — craning her neck to look up at all the books in front of her.

Just to your luck, your mother placed a box for that genre next to the end of the shelf and you picked it up.

You make your way down the aisle and set the box toward the middle before looking up the girl who was already staring, and boy was she something.

Freckles littered across her tan skin, strands of her short hair fell from her half up half down style, her eyes — damn her eyes — they were the prettiest brown you’ve ever seen.

You smile lightly before picking up the first book and reading both the authors name and the title while trying to slow down your racing heart.

Who was this girl? Matter of fact, what was she? She wasn’t a regular, that’s for sure but you always get random people coming in so it didn’t exactly matter.

After putting away a few books, you glance up to see the girl a few feet away and on her tippy toes, reaching for a book on the fifth or sixth shelf.

You snorted quietly catching the girls attention making you quickly look away to keep yourself from laughing.

“You think this is funny?” She asks and you begin shaking in quiet laughter.

After a few moments, you compose yourself and stand shaking your head.

“No, not at all. Would you like some help?” You ask taking step toward her. She narrows her eyes. “Are you making fun of me right now?” She asks, both amusement and annoyance in her voice.

“Why would I do that? It’s poor customer service.” You say with a smile before watching her own smile grow.

“It’s poor customer service to laugh at a customer.” She mumbles before stepping back. “Please.” You walk up and grab the book.

“Look how easy that was.” She says, taking the book you held out for her. “Being six-foot-two does have its perks.” She says looking over the back of the book.

You roll your eyes but your smile only grows. Looking down at the book you nod and raise your eye brows, “that’s a good one, read it a few years back.” You say, making your way back to box of books.

“I’d hope so, for all the work I had to do to try and get it.” She mumbles making you smile and shake your head. “Anything else good?” She asks, looking down to you.

“You’re asking me if there’s anything else good in here when there’s just by the look of it thousands of books here?” You ask, smirking at her when she rubs the back of her neck.

“Yes, there is, I’ve read more than I can count. My recommendation board is up by the front desk if you want to check it out.” You say before placing crave by Tracy Wolff into the slot.

“You must have come here a lot before working then? If you’ve read so many books from here.” She asks, following hot on your trail with the book tucked between her arm. “Oh, for sure,” you say nodding. “The owners and I are real close, we were together a whole nine months before I was born.”

Her eyes widen slightly at the information. “You’re parents own this place?” She asks, gesturing to the entire book store and you nod, smiling.

It felt like you were a teenage boy, flaunting his muscles to a girl he finds attractive.

“Wow,” she says looking around once again. Book still tucked tightly into her arm as she did so. “Just wow. Your parents have taste.”

“More like their people pleasers.” You say shaking your head. The real other reason why horror is so popular in the movie section is because of their request.

Every week they check their request list and buy everything people ask for. New books, new movies, new music and games, there’s always something new. You’re surprised there’s still room, then again the place would be as big you supposed.

“They like having their customers choice their number one priority. It’s good business.” You say looking up to the girl who had a look of wonder in her eyes as she stared down at you but there was also something else. Something you couldn’t quite place.

She stares at you for another moment before speaking again, “do you.. know who I am?” She asks and your furrow your eye brows in question.

“Should I?” You ask tilting your head. She stares for another moment again, eyes scanning your face and it’s features as if searching for something.

Her smile then grows, as she shakes her head. “You shouldn’t, or rather shouldn’t have to. It’s just a surprise.” She says, tucking her hair behind her ear.

You knit your eye brows together in confusion.

She walks out of the aisle and you catch the light smile on her face as she does.

What the hell? You wonder to yourself as you place the last few books away.

You were pretty sure that was the last section, unless your mother put out some more stuff you didn’t notice. You’d just check out the to-do list.

Your mother and father always had one for both you and their own sake. Adding things so no one would forget.

As you made your way to check out, you see the girl walking in the general distraction as well.

“All set?” You ask, placing the box inside the others, moving past the small door attached to the low counter.

“Yep,” she says once again staring at you.

You take the book you got for her earlier along with another you recognize almost immediately. “Between shades of gray?” You ask, looking at her as if she were serious.

“Your description seemed trust worthy enough to make me interested.” You glance over to see your board clearly flipped through before nodding.

You scan both books. “Careful, it’s sad, dark and traumatic. It’s one of my favorites though.” You say looking up at her, she pauses for a moment, staring at you once again and just smiles and shakes her head.

“I think I can deal with a few of those.”

“Bartering or buying?” You ask. “Bartering,” she replies and you nod. “Good, I need to get a review on what you think.” You say with a smirk and you see a glint of something in her eyes.

“Name?” You ask and she looks at you a little confused. “We have to know whose using our books, how else do you think we send emails threatening to charge or get them back?” You snort.

“Oh, your totally right.” she says quietly before taking out her credit card.

“Jenna Ortega..” she says and you nod, typing in the name before reaching for the credit. Her grip on the card tightens at your lack of response.

You pull the card gently but her grip is to hard for you to take.

“Can I… get the card?” You ask, looking around slightly uncomfortably with the stone like stare she was giving you.

“Are you sure you don’t know who I am?” She asks letting go allowing you to swipe the card.

“Again, should I?”

You both stare at each other, both confused and entrapped by the other.

You find is strange how she thinks you know who she is or why you don’t know her.

Maybe she was some big deal somewhere off and you still have yet to hear about her.

Her name did ring a bell but you weren’t sure. Was she a person you knew from your child hood? An old friend trying to reconnect? Maybe some relative on your moms sent by the older ones to investigate if it was really you.

“Miss Ortega?” You’re both broken out of your thoughts as two large men stand behind her. “Time to go.” he says gesturing to a few people who were standing and staring in your general direction.

One grabs the bag off the counter before quickly walking towards the door.

“Looks like I gotta go,” she says, smile now suddenly shy with others watching. “Don’t worry, I’ll return your book Y/N.” She says before walking toward the door, one of the men right behind her.

“Yeah, you bet-“ you pause after the the realization hits you. “Wait, how’d you-?” You begin to ask before watching her gesture to her chest.

You knit your eyebrows together, you look down to see the name tag right under the library symbol.

She was strange.. cute.. but strange

Read next sort here!

A/N : Some parts once again rushed🧍🏽‍♀️This is just an introduction I suppose, the details will get better I tried my hardest🥲

[jamkookies]

𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐀𝐧𝐚. 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐲, 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤. ♡

𝑺𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔 𝒎𝒂𝒚 𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝑨𝒏𝒏𝒂'𝒔 𝒈𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒖𝒑 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒃𝒂𝒅. 𝑬𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝑱𝒐𝒋𝒐. 𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒉𝒆, 𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒙𝒊𝒄 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍, 𝒔𝒖𝒑𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒅𝒐 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝑱𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒌𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒔 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆? 𝑸𝒖𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚.

Pairing: OC X Barista!Jungkook

Contains: humor, mutual pining, fluff, cuddles, vine references, hurt and comfort, sexual tension.

Warnings: swear words, angst, dark themes, anorexia, mentions of self-harm, starvation, binge eating.

Word count: 30k+ (don’t ask)

A/N: I spent almost a year working on this, during which time I went on and off from writing. It’s finally here and my excitement is through the roof. Special thanks to @keopitae​ for sharing her thoughts on the fic and for her continuous support. Eli out.

____________________________

"My name is Jojo and I suffer from an eating disorder."

The words echo across the small bathroom walls, crashing against the mirror I so passionately detested. Punching the mirror as hard as I can, blossoming cracks scatter in every direction. The pain in my right knuckle screams, blood already oozing out of the peeled skin.

Fucking cringe. What was all this for? Was there a camera up my ass for acting all dramatic and shit?

"Good job, Jojo, you just ruined another one." I sigh and let the running water wash the blood off my hand. This was the third time this month and honestly, I think I deserved a slap across the face for the amount of money I was spending on fucking mirrors.

Heh.

That made it sound like mirror prostitution.

I grab a bandage from the stack I kept on the drawers and wrap it around my injury. Talking to your reflection first thing in the morning wasn't exactly the best way to start off the day, but it had been a mere attempt at self-therapy. Well, since I can't go to a real one, anyway. Too bad it didn't work.

 I sigh one more time for good measure and pull a hoodie over my head.

 Ah yes, a hoodie. The ultimate piece of clothing. 

Feeling cold? Wear a hoodie. Your bra is cutting your blood circulation and you can't keep it on anymore? Wear a hoodie. You feel self-conscious of your body and try to hide every curve and shape? Hoodie is your best friend.

I put on a pair of sweats to complete the look because let's be real;  everyone loves a baggy outfit. Not even sparing a glance at the mirror anymore, I unplug the charger from my phone's ass and sit down for a second to scroll through some memes.

Yup.

That's exactly what a person does after losing their job.But come on, I mean who fires someone just because they went to take a piss? Yes, it took fifteen minutes and yes, I was in the middle of working, but my dude, I drink three bottles of water a day. I need to let it out somewhere.

I take a deep breath as if to clear the disarrayed thoughts in my head. As much as I tried to make it sound funny, it wouldn't work because, at the end of the month, the rent wouldn't pay itself. Living on your own had its pros and cons and up till now, if I was completely honest, I had only seen the bad side of it.

 Supporting my hands on the sofa, I try to stand on my feet but almost flop back down. Every time I get up, black spots dance across my vision. I can even see whole galaxies and not in the pretty sense of the word. One time I think I witnessed the glory of the Milky Way itself.

The pills that are strewn across the floor remind me of the impulsive decision I'd decided to make last night so I collect them one by one and put them back in the bottle.

Maybe some other time, I think to myself. Another day.

I'm perfectly fine, after all. I did lose my job yesterday and now I'm hanging on a thread for dear life but it's fine. I can make this work. A small green apple on the counter is the only promise of a so-called decent breakfast. 

"Well hello there, little guy," I say before sinking my teeth into the juicy flesh of the innocent fruit.The apple doesn't respond.I take my phone out of my pocket and tap on the Notes app.

  52 calories are way too fucking much for an apple, I think to myself as I aggressively type the number down.This was about the only positive side of this disease. I was more educated on the nutritional values of food than a real dietitian.

This was how it all had started in the first place — from wanting to make healthier choices to cutting on particular groups of food. Just a slight change. Nothing too alarming. But then, I had to know what I was eating, right? So I start counting.

And that's how it all went to shit. 

After I finish eating the apple and throw its core into the almost empty trash can, I wash it down with a tall glass of water. At last, my animalistic hunger was sedated and I could finally move on with my life. Indeed.

I grab my keys and shut the door behind me, wanting to go out for a while, maybe clear my head a little bit. It's not like I had to feed my kids or anything. There was nothing holding me back. So, I exit the apartment building, my keys clinking in my right pocket, and I hop on my beloved bike, parked right on the corner of the street. Did I have any idea where I was going? No. Was that going to stop me from strolling around like I didn't have a pile of shit waiting to be dealt with? Hell no.

I start pedaling like crazy from the moment I put some distance between my apartment and the main street. Maybe it was because I needed to let off some steam, maybe the amount of calories I would burn excited me. Either way, that doesn't justify the high pitched scream coming from a girl that I almost run over.

 I skid to a stop, the hands on the brakes stopping me from a fatal mistake. The girl's face has gone pale and one of her hands is clutching at her chest, terrified.I notice the way her flawless make-up matches her porcelain foundation, the fitted jeans hugging her slim legs like a second skin, and I feel sick.Sick for the fact that I'd almost killed this girl and all I could think about was how skinnier than me she actually was.

"Watch where you're going, fatass!"

Scratch that.

The Regina George flashback turns it all around.This bitch was going down.

I throw the bike aside in the middle of heavy traffic and shoot daggers from my eyes at her ridiculously perfect form. Any shred of remorse I'd felt up till now dissipates like a wisp of smoke on the wind."The fuck did you just say?"

She flinches from the humorless tone of my voice and I can see from the way her eyes widen that she's starting to regret her poor choice of words. 

"I–"

Before I can blink, she's out of my sight, scurrying away like a frightened little mouse and I can't help but huff an incredulous laugh right there in the middle of the street. A car honks loudly behind my back and I don't hesitate to flip the guy off, the hint of a smile still lingering on my lips.

I wasn't taking any shits from people today.

So I hop on the bike once more and round a corner in search of a place to cool down a little bit. My eyes roam over the long line of stores and shops decorating both sides of the road in a flourished aesthetic and pause on the frame of a particular coffee shop, the strong flavorful smell inviting to my senses. I don't have to think twice before leaving my bike on the sidewalk and entering the shop with curious steps, scanning the interiors in a quick once-over. I sit by the window since it faces the street and make myself comfortable enough to attract a few pair of judging eyes. 

A woman seated on a table close-by looks at me disapprovingly, staring at my clothes for a little longer than needed. She was probably wondering why was a tomboy wannabe man-spreading with an arm thrown across the chair like she owned the place.

Look, ma'am. It's the twenty-first century. No one gives a shit about girl mannerisms anymore.

"Didn't anyone tell you staring is rude?" I say, not bothering to make myself look somewhat presentable. She looks appalled by the bluntness of my words, probably not used to being called out so straight-forwardly but it seemed to have worked as she just turns her head on the other side, pretending to not have heard anything.

That's what I thought.

I fish my phone out of my pocket and scroll down mindlessly. A distraction more than anything. But I don't even get the luxury of having a moment's peace when a pair of black stomper shoes slow down to a stop down my line of vision. I raise my eyes deliberately, following the two long legs protruding from them that connect with a bulky chest till I finally reach the top.

A boy.

No, a man.

Well, a mix of both.

His well-built figure screams "I've never skipped a day at the gym", the veiny muscles tight against the black shirt he's wearing. A swirling black tattoo makes an appearance on the side of his neck, disappearing inside the collar of his shirt, peeking again at his biceps and then snaking its way down his arm. There are multiple piercings on both of his ears, the silvery dangling pieces curtained by a mass of black messy hair reaching past his cheekbones and falling in front of his eyes carelessly.

Those eyes...

His whole physique resembled that of a fully grown man but his eyes were the ones who gave him away. Big and round and boyish.

I wasn't sure why I had spent more than a minute ogling at a stranger coming up to my table. Maybe it was the dark, mysterious aura radiating off of him or the way he was looking at me expectantly. Still, this motherfucker was too handsome for his own good. And he still stays right in front of me, unmoving, waiting for something.

"Are you lost, child?" I ask, looking at him dead in the eye.

He scoffs, clearly offended. "Child?"

"Your fly's down." I deadpan.

Unfortunately for him, his eyes slightly dip down to the front of his pants.

"Ha! I made you look!" I proclaim, a spark of amusement making the corners of my lips upturn. 

He, on the other hand, doesn't look so happy, his curled up fists shaking by his sides, trying to keep himself in control."Can I take your order?" he grits the polite words through his teeth, even though he looks like he's about to strangle me from any second now.

"You're the waiter? Where's your uniform?"

"I don't have it with me." The boy's expression has turned angry, irritated even by the consistency of my questions.I decide to take it down a notch or two for the sake of the bulging vein on his throat, threatening to pop off. "Kay, chill. I was just asking."I lean closer and put my elbow on the table. " Soo...You come here often?"

It's his turn to deadpan. "I work here."

"Whoops. Silly me, I forgot." 

"Are you gonna order or not?" He can't help the slight raise of his voice, more than enough proof that his patience was wearing thin.

Uh oh. Hoe's mad.

I throw a leg across my knee in the most arrogant way possible and lean back on the chair. "Aren't you gonna write it down somewhere?" I ask, raising one eyebrow.

"I can remember it." he simply answers.

Fine then, pretty boy. Let's see how you remember this.

"I'll have a quad long shot grande in a venti cup, half calf, double cupped, no sleeve, salted caramel mocha latte with two pumps of vanilla."

Oh, I've definitely made him mad now. 

With a look of pure hatred on his face, he clenches his jaws together and stomps off in the opposite direction with God knows how much memory of the order in his head but before he can go further, I shout for him to stop. I was starting to feel bad for the boy with the long hair flying behind him dramatically. Not to mention, there was no way in hell I'd let that much sugar enter my body.

"Wait!"

He pauses and slowly turns around."I changed my mind. Just a cup of dark coffee will do. No sugar."

Surprisingly, a subtle smirk creeps its way on his lips, throwing a whole new light to his features. "Aren't you gonna tell me to make sure it's darker than your soul?"

Hmph. The little puppy can bite back, after all.

"Nah, that's overused," I say. His eyes scan me from head to toe and then he pivots on his heel, disappearing behind the multiple tools of the counter, probably communicating the order to someone else. It doesn't take long for him to come back once again, his long elegant hand gently picking up the cup of coffee from the tray and putting it on the table.

In that fleeting moment I can make out a messy layout of tattoos; a smiley emoji on his middle finger, four small crosses in the spaces between and a bunch of other symbols I don't recognize. All that, gracefully completed by a gorgeous black flower and a bunch of other patterns wrapped around his forearm. 

How contrasting it was, the way his appearance clashed with his personality. Did I actually know him? I think so.The guy was obviously kind enough not to spill the thing all over my clothes in an act of rebellion and I had to say it was an admirable thing to do considering how far I was pushing his limits. I am almost ready to hold out the olive branch to him.

Almost.

"I thought I said no sugar," I say, noticing the small white pack by the side of the cup."I guessed you would probably change your mind again." he teases, but the displeasure is still quite evident on his face.

Interesting.

"Next time, just make sure to do what I say." I retort, very much aware that I was prolonging the situation more than needed, but I just couldn't help it. I was really enjoying the reactions I got from him every time I pushed his buttons. 

He's practically fuming with anger but still doesn't fall prey to my relentless attacks, instead choosing to walk away like a civilian.

Pity. I wish he'd stayed a little longer.

The coffee is absolutely disgusting. Its bitter aftertaste almost makes me gag. 

This is what happens when you refuse to add sugar to any kind of drink, Jojo. It basically tastes like shit.

I forcefully down the last gulps and rise from my table, leaving a tip for the emo kid even though I'm running low on money. He deserved it after putting up with my bullshit for that long.

The woman staring at me earlier goes wide-eyed when I lift two fingers to the side of my brow, offering her a salute before making my way out of the coffee shop.

 I don't eat lunch that day. Not even dinner. I just stare at the black screen of the turned-off TV, sipping water from my mug like it's the most flavorful thing in the universe and not having the energy to even cry myself to sleep anymore. I do that every night. Cry and cry and cry like there's no tomorrow. It feels relieving somehow— like I've let something off my chest, even though momentarily.

I grab my phone and type down the stupid number anyway. 

2 calories. I write 2 calories for a fucking cup of coffee like it's gonna make a shit ton of difference.

Fucking ridiculous.

I want to sink deeper into this misery, let it consume me whole till there's nothing left, but like a beacon of light, the image of that boy's face emerges into the surface. 

"That guy was cute." I voice the words that have been on my mind all day before falling into a deep dreamless sleep.

~ JUNGKOOK ~

There she was. That girl again.

In all my three years of working here, I'd never encountered someone so rude, shameless and utterly irritating. She's sitting on the same spot from yesterday, looking out the window and throwing casual glances at her phone. She also has the same baggy hoodie and sweats, probably too lazy to even bother change into something else.

 However, what attracts my attention is the bandage wrapped around her hand, a pink hue visible where her knuckles should be. I'd noticed it the first day too, wondering where in the world would she get that kind of wound. She did seem like the type of girl who would get into fights actually, judging from her boyish clothes and brash personality but I wasn't sure if–

Whatever.

It was none of my business and I had work to do, anyway. I couldn't be bothered with the antics of a rebellious teenage girl. The glass I'm wiping almost slips out of my hands. Bold of her to call me a child when she couldn't be more than five feet tall. I wondered if her feet even reached the pedals of her bike.

"Hey Jungkook, you got a customer." Kwan's voice shakes me out of my thoughtful state as he flicks his chin towards the girl.

"Can't you get this one for me?" I grimace."Why? Are you afraid she's gonna bite?"

"Seems like it."

His eyes narrow into slits as he glares at me suspiciously.

"Come on man, just do what I say for once," I insist, not really wanting to deal with her shit for a second time. Kwan raises his palms up in surrender and goes to take the girl's order, but not without mumbling a "kids these days" on his way out.

The girl looks up from her phone upon  Kwan's arrival but then her eyes quickly roam around as if searching for something. They exchange a few words too quietly for me to hear amid the general bustle of the shop, and then my coworker is by my side before I can blink.

 "Nothing to be scared of, Jeon. She just asked for a green tea," Kwan says and grabs a number of items from the counter.

"So, she didn't say anything rude?"

"Nope."

"Not even an insult?"

Kwan tsks with his tongue.

Hmph.

Maybe she just hadn't been in the mood yesterday because there's definitely something different about the way she's just sitting there–

Barbecue sauce on her ti—

A snort accidentally escapes from my lips and I lower my head further to hide the embarrassment of the uninvited thought.

"Something funny?" Kwan asks, looking up from the tea he was brewing. I click my tongue just as he'd done.

 It takes about a minute or so until the order's ready and I note the way the girl's face contorts with each sip of her tea as if someone had actually put a gun to her head to drink that horrendous beverage. She still drains the cup to its dregs, though.

Gets up.

Sways a little.

The hand wrapped in bandages holds onto the table for support and she finally pushes herself up to her feet. A little light-headed, if you ask me.

That confident image I'd created of her yesterday, crumbles into pieces when I observe the vulnerable state she's currently in. I wasn't sure why I was paying much attention to a complete stranger who I would probably never meet again, but I just couldn't stop myself. It was like being pulled into a black hole and finding yourself secretly enjoying it even though your gut tells you that it's wrong. 

It was weird but true.I'd experienced it before.

The brief moment of realization had been enough to make me get lost in my thoughts so I snap my eyes back to the girl's table only to notice that the seat was empty.

She'd left.

~JOJO ~

Discipline. I need to practice discip–

Fuck. Is that a hamburger?

The delicious treat from the glass showcase of a fast-food restaurant winks at me and my mouth waters just by looking at it. When was the last time I ate anything decent? I rack my brains out, calculating the number of calories I'd consumed for the last two days and the only results are an apple, a cup of black coffee, green tea and maybe a tank of water.

Wait!

I did lick that spoon of peanut butter this morning, so in total, 144 calories. Might as well call it a fast for all I care.

My breath quickens with every push of the pedal, thighs burning with the strain. It's been almost three hours since I left the coffee shop and I'm pretty sure the tires of my bike must be deflated from going through every damn corner of the city.

Why would I do that? Because I'm a stupid ass bitch who likes to push herself to her limits and who doesn't know what rest means.

I know I'm going too far. I know it won't be long before all of this comes crashing down on me, sending my progress back to the starting point, but I can't seem to stop. Not when the ecstasy is so overwhelming, filling me up with a fake sense of achievement. This was probably the reason why this disorder was addicting. It made you feel like you had the reins in your hands, not it.

Not her.

Oh, Ana. How much I wanna fucking kill you right now.

It was all her fault, after all. 

No. It wasn't her fault. It was the people's fault.They were the ones that said things. Things that hurt me. And their words didn't affect me directly but they fed my insecurities. 

It was confusing, actually.They said I was fat. I tried and built some muscle by working out.They said I looked too manly with my muscles now. It didn't suit me.I dropped ten pounds starving myself.

What did they want?

What was the right body?

I didn't know anymore.There would always be something not right, not good enough.

I grip the handlebar tighter when the flood of old memories engulfs me without warning, making its appearance like an uninvited guest. I'm not even sure how it all started in the first place because believe it or not, I was the biggest body-positivity enthusiast.

And then suddenly I wasn't.

And then I find out that there's a whole community out there with people just like me but so radical, so different from anything I'd ever seen before. At first, I was outraged, disgusted even, by the naive statements of young girls saying they wanted the thinnest body possible, fantasizing about skin and bones, but as time went by and as I delved deeper and deeper into the swirling vortex of these intoxicating thoughts, I started succumbing to them. They suddenly seemed appealing.

I let out a sigh between heavy breaths.

Did it matter now? Besides, that guy didn't even show up today. Maybe it's his day off or something.

The brilliant rays of the afternoon sun make the glass panes of the cars passing by gleam like a swarm of fireflies.It would've looked pretty if it weren't for the way it made me shield my eyes. I was already having a hard time trying to keep them open as my strength started to run out, the view in front of me doing half–circles and then turning back to its optimal position. My legs feel like lead and I stop pedaling altogether, letting my bike guide me instead.

Tired.

So, so...tired.

A familiar face swims into my line of vision. It's the emo kid. 

And he's....falling?

The handlebar spirals out of my control and my knee hits hard concrete. That face is the last thing I see before a black cloak of darkness swallows me whole 

~JUNGKOOK~

Never in a million years would I have thought  I'd have to carry a random person to the nearest hospital on my way home. Yet here I am, sitting on a chair for the past hour, staring at the girl's chest rise and fall with slow, rhythmic breaths. 

There are fresh bandages wrapped around her scraped knee and multiple bruises all over her body. I'd seen the slightest look of surprise cross her face before her eyes rolled up in her head and she fell off the bike, hitting her head in the process. It had been a chaotic situation, that one. People had kept gathering around, trying to sneak a peek at the accident but still not doing anything to actually help. So I'd taken things to my own hands, done my duty as a normal person would.

Then why are you still here, Jungkook? my logic reasons with me. The doctor said she would be fine so why are you still sitting over here, waiting for her to wake up?

That's right. I should be going.I lean my palms on my knees but before I can fully rise from the chair, the girl's eyes crack open. She takes a look around the room, analyzing her surroundings, and then her eyes stop on my face. 

"Who the fuck are you?" she croaks.

Here we go again... I internally sigh."We met at the coffee shop. Or don't you remember?" I answer, praying for her life not to get my anger rise so fast.

"Right," she says, even though something tells me she had known exactly who I was in the first place. "The fuck are you doing here?"

"I saved your life."

"Why bother?"

"You should be grateful, you know."

"Did I ever ask for your fucking help?"

I had to admit I was slightly taken aback. The girl swore and cursed worse than a sailor. As if on cue, a jumble of profanities spill from her lips as she struggles to sit up, suddenly finding herself tangled in tubes and needles trickling colorless liquid into her veins.

 "Get this shit off of me, " she says and rips the said piece from the inside of her forearm.

"You should keep that for a little longer." I protest, hands already reaching for the needle laying on the sheets but she flinches from my touch and throws a leg across the bed, attempting to get up.

 "Sit down!" I say a little harsher than I intended but it was impossible not to.

Unbelievable.

Her nonchalance and irresponsible behavior made me want to punch her in the face, regardless of her being a girl. At last, she has the dignity to actually do what she's told. "Someone's cranky, " she mumbles as she leans back on the pillow.

 This girl must have a split personality disorder because only two seconds later her legs are crossed comfortably despite the nasty injury on her knee and she's leaning forward with her cheek on her palm, staring intently at me with a curious smile hanging on her lips. 

"You never told me your name, " she says.

"You never asked, " I reply.

She scowls. "Stop trying to play the smartass with me, child and just tell me your fucking name."

"It's Jungkook."

Her eyebrows lift in surprise.

"I know, it rolls off your tongue, doesn't it?" I tease.

"Actually, it sounds like a chicken dying, but okay."

My lips twitch in amusement, trying to suppress the silly smile demanding to make an appearance.

"To be honest, I'm kinda disappointed, " she continues. "I was expecting something more special, like Sebastian or Gabriel or something." She scratches her chin while her eyes still stay rooted on my face. "You know what, imma call you Juan. Yeah, Juan's better. Got that Latino vibe to it."

Her never-ending shenanigans were pure torture so I decide to turn the tables for a change. "And what is your name?" I ask.

For once, she doesn't try to make fun of me. "Jojo."

Cute.

"It fits you."

Her eyebrows scrunch themselves together as she carefully observes me. "Hmmm....Anyway–" She crawls to the side of the bed and grimaces when her left foot leans on the floor. "Thanks for spending your precious time with me, Juan but now I gotta blast."

"Miss, I'm gonna have to ask you to sit down, please," another voice is heard and the doctor I'd talked to earlier steps into the room. He stares the girl, Jojo I remind myself, down but she doesn't relent, staring right back with the same intensity.

"I'm perfectly fine—"

"Your blood sugar levels are at their lowest point, that wound on your knee needs to be changed continuously or else you'll get an infection and you might have a concussion from the way you hit your head. I'm surprised you're still even talking."

There's a slight tremor in her pupils, which I 'm pretty sure is caused by the panicked state she's trying to hide. She plasters a smile on her face. "Come on now, Doc. I'm sure you can let me off this one time. The fact that I'm still talking proves I'm better, right?"

"Miss—"

"I'll accompany her, " I blurt without thinking and both of them snap their heads in my direction. No turning back now. "I'll make sure she gets home safely," I assure him.

"I don't need your—" Jojo starts, but her words falter when she meets the doctor's glare. "I mean... sure, why not?"

The doctor seems satisfied enough as he turns on his heel without a moment's hesitation. However, he hasn't even made it past the threshold when he pauses, turns halfway around and looks at her dead in the eye. "And by the way, miss. You should eat something. Your heart's gonna fail at this rate."

I could have sworn I saw something flash behind her eyes but she doesn't show it, choosing to keep that sad smile on her face like an anchor linking her to sanity.

"Son of a bitch." I hear her mumble under her breath.

~JOJO~

Son of a bitch I repeat in my head over and over again till the words start to sound foreign to my ears, suddenly losing their meaning. 

That damn doctor just had to point out the fact that I hadn't eaten anything for the last couple of days. He was right, of course, but that didn't stop me from mentally sending a series of curses his way.

I have never felt so shitty in my life. Both physically and mentally. My head feels like it's going to split in half, the stinging of the wound on my knee is crying like a bitch and there's not an ounce of strength left in me. 

Powerless. 

And if that wasn't enough, Juan's endless questions only add to my misery.

"For the last time, no, I don't live with my parents," I say for what felt like the gazillionth time, still refusing the hand he kept offering my way. I might be on the verge of collapsing but under no circumstances was I to let myself be held like a damsel in distress. 

Nuh-uh.That's a line you can't cross, mister.

"That sounds kinda hard to believe," Juan says and sticks his rejected hand back in his pocket, probably to get rid of the awkwardness.

"Bitch, I don't need your approval to say something. If you don't want to believe me, fine. Suit yourself. "

His shiny black hair glints in the darkness, catching the beams of moonlight as he flicks it away from his face. "How can I be a bitch? I'm a male." he retorts.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Man whore." I reply, putting a clear emphasis on the last syllable. 

He scowls, seeming genuinely offended by my words, especially when he says " Swearing is rude, you know."

"You know what else is rude? Asking people too many questions."

"But can you blame me, though? I mean you pretty much look like a high-schooler who ran away from home."

I stop dead in my tracks. "You have a strong sense of guessing."

He blinks. "Wait. You're  really a high-schooler who ran away from home?"

I resume my walking, using the concrete wall on the side of the road for support. "For your information, I did finish high-school so suck on that."

"But you still ran away from home, right?" he insists.

"Oh for fuck's sake— yes, I did run away from home. Are you happy now?"

The blank look on his face, combined with the slight shrug of his shoulders almost causes me to snort. "Cool, " he says, unbothered."Aren't you gonna ask why I did it?"

"Not interested, " he states and looks straight ahead, completely ignoring my presence."Liar. I can see that you're one of those assholes who are dead-curious about everything."

"Am not!" he whirls on me.

I scrunch my nose and sniff the air around me like a wild dog hunting on its prey. "You smell that?" I ask him.

"What?"

"Smells like bullshit to me."

Even in the darkness, I can see the dramatic roll of his eyes, causing their whites to stand out. He had pretty big eyes, this guy. They softened that edgy aura he gave off, all muscles, tattoos, and black clothes. And the fact that he tolerated my irritating behavior, which I was deeply aware of, made him look even more appealing to my eyes. 

"Why did you volunteer to take me home, Juan?" I quietly ask, glancing at him through the corner of my vision.

He seems to mull the question over in his head for a moment, eyes staring his shoes down. "I don't know. You seemed like you needed some help." He throws a look at me. "Which by the way, is still valid. You look like hell."

For some reason, that makes me retract my hands from the wall and I try to keep myself stable on my own two feet, limping heavily on the process. 

"What exactly happened with your bike?" he continues, unaware of my recent action.

"I was busy stalking hot guys all day, so my bike got tired. Guess she just couldn't handle it anymore." 

The boy doesn't seem to fall for any of my lies, narrowing his eyes till their nothing but slits. "Do you tend to not eat when you stalk hot guys?"

This little shit...

"Nah, it's just that I'm so fucking forgetful." I immediately reply. "I forget to eat all the time.

"He doesn't relent, still boring holes into my eyes. 

"Hey, what's with all the questions, anyway? I thought you said you were not interested?" I repeat his own words.

"Right, " he admits.

My apartment building comes into view, the looming structure now as familiar as the back of my hand. "We're here, " I announce. My eyebrows raise in wonder as his legs keep heading for the entrance of the building instead of pausing.

 "Where are you going?" I ask.

"To your apartment, obviously."

"What the fuck makes you think you can come to my apartment, boy?" I did not want him to see anything personal of mine, yet for some strange reason, I found myself hoping he would stick around a little longer. A little controversial, considering the fact that my words proved otherwise, but I couldn't just say that to him, could I? Like, hey, kid you're nice. Let's have a little chat before you go. 

Ridiculous.

"I'll just escort you to the door, " he assures.

"No need for that."

"But what if you fall down the stairs?" he insists.

"You got me there." I punch in the code at the main entrance and hurry up the stairs as much as my limp would let me, Jungkook's eyes never leaving me for a second. After what felt like an eternity, I grunt  heavily and lean on the doorstep of my humble apartment. "Okay, you've done your service, soldier. You're free to go now."

Jungkook throws a quick glance at my mustard-colored door, probably weirded out by it but then his eyes flick to my empty hands. "Where's your keys?" he wonders.

My mouth gapes open and my eyes go the size of tennis balls as I frantically pat my pockets. When I notice the way Jungkook's lips part slightly, I burst into hysterical laughter, jiggling the retrieved keys in front of his face. "You should've seen your face!" I laugh. "Hilarious."

He exhales, relieved. "I thought you'd lost them."

"Nah, Juan. I forget a lot of things but not my keys. Besides, these bitches stick up my ass like fucking glue." 

The door's lock clicks with a flick of my wrist but I resist the usual temptation of kicking it wide open, in fear of letting emo-kid sneak a peek. It's not like I was embarrassed of the mess in my apartment or anything like that but it felt weirdly intimate to let someone else get a glimpse of my domestic life. In fact, I hadn't invited anyone over since...

Yes, it had been that long. 

Jungkook notices my reluctance and clears his throat. "So...um...you're all good now, so I better leave. You should–you should take care of your wound."

How weird to see an overgrown, muscular dude stutter and not know what to do with his hands. I usually didn't have the tendency of stereotyping but this definitely struck me as odd. 

I smirk. "Getting shy, Juan?"

He almost flinches at my words. " What? No!"

"Are you waiting for a thanks then?"

A stray hair falls in front of his eyes but he doesn't move it away from his face. "That's not something you ask from people."

I bite my tongue and try not to let the pain on my leg get to me as I squeeze into the room through a thin sliver of space. Still, his words bring a smile to my face and as much as I try to suppress it, it just keeps floating on the surface again. "I'm not an asshole, Juan. So thanks."

"Actually, you refused to say thanks from the start—"

"Okay, now you ruined it," I interrupt. "Get outta here."

He slowly starts to back off and his lips stretch into a barely contained smile. "Good night, Jojo." And then just like that, he's climbing down the stairs with his long legs taking two or three steps at a time.

I shut the door and lean on it for a moment, sighing deeply through my nose.

"Little shit, " I whisper. 

Rise and shine.

That's exactly what my alarm tune doesn't say. Even after so much time hearing it pierce my ears every single morning with its shrill screech, I can never stop myself from wanting to smash the damn thing into pieces. However, that's the only thing that can actually get my ass up from the bed. All the other gentle-sounding melodies had proven to be absolute failures, dragging me even further into the sweet crevices of sleep. 

The numerous late arrivals to work had made me suffer more shouts and scoldings than I could remember from my boss. The guy was a total dick. Good thing I don't work there anymore.

My room is still coated in patches of darkness here and there, the bright rays of the morning sun nowhere to be seen. It is about 5:30, an unholy time to wake up, but since I was now unemployed, I had made an oath to force myself every day into going for a run outside. 

There was no overwhelming hustle and bustle, no moving crowds of people. The city had yet to rise from its slumber and the only activity on sight included slow, quiet movements of passers-by.

I finally kick the blanket off and swing my legs over the bed. The cold surface of the floor awakens my senses as I prepare to go over the usual ritual: Stretch, pee, step on the scale. 

The number has slightly changed from yesterday but not to the point where I want it to. A wave of disappointment washes over me. It happens every day yet I can never get used to it.

I decide to go easy on the breakfast. A cold glass of water, an apple, and a boiled egg. 

I probably should've thought about putting some pants on first, I say to myself as a crumb of egg yolk smears my bare thigh. I use the pad of my finger to wipe it off and cringe intensely. These thick bitches turned three sizes wider when sitting down and it only spurred on my body dysmorphia.

Disgusting.

Not forgetting about my daily dose of green tea, I hurry up before the sun rises and put some sports clothes on, which wasn't really that hard since they were the only thing in my closet. I shut the door behind me but it feels like something is nagging the back of my mind, demanding my attention. 

Did I forget anything?

I rack my brains out in search of a clue but nothing makes it into the surface. 

This stupid obsession...

Making sure my shoelaces are tightly secured and my earphones plugged in, I climb down the stairs and burst out of the entrance of the building. I welcome the sharp sting of fresh air that fills my lungs with a deep breath and waste no time to sprint into a run, the loud music already blasting my ears in full force.The wound on my knee does not approve of this but I don't give two shits. It can cry like a bitch for all I care.

It's easy at first, obviously. Your body is rested and unspent so you relish those twenty minutes with pure adrenaline flowing through your veins. But then, the run takes its toll on you. It's unavoidable.

The sky switches from dark blue to a pastel pink, announcing the official start of the day and reminding me of my tiresome condition. I'm panting like an asthmatic by now and my clothes stick uncomfortably with sweat so I slow into a light jog. The sting on my knee grows stronger and stronger til I can barely stand it. The clean sidewalk grows hard under my feet and it's all I can do not to faint from exhaustion. Running tires you out? Try running with not enough food in your system.

I scan my surroundings in an attempt to distract myself from the fatigue. A few trees lining up the street, a grey car hurrying to God knows where, hair—

Wait, what?

I redirect my eyes to the spot I was staring at and notice a mop of dark hair swinging wildly. The body they belong to is in fast-motion, arms shifting from side to side as the legs make long, speeding strides.

No fucking way. I guess it's not such a bad day after all.

I smirk as I gain speed, now heading straight  towards the boy with newfound strength. As I maneuver from side to side with a few random strangers, I can't help but stare at the way his sweatpants hug every curve of his butt. He had a nice butt, this guy. I'm kinda jealous. And as if that wasn't enough, the material of his loose T-shirt  turns darker from the collar down to his back, marking a trail of sweat. He'd ran just as hard from what I could see.

The music in my earphones dies out as I quickly catch up to him and slip by his side, matching his constant rhythm. He doesn't notice at first, but after the numerous glances I throw from the corner of my eye, he finally flinches and stops abruptly. "Jojo?"

His hair is completely drenched in sweat. The dark strands form wet tendrils on his forehead and numerous trails that drip from  his temples and down to his chin. He almost rips his earbuds  off and I have to say I feel slightly endeared. As a person who preferred not to be disturbed while listening to music, I could appreciate the fact that he removed them in the blink of an eye. If a person does that, he respects you. Simple as that.

 He gives me a look of mild curiosity, which for a surprise makes him look ten times hotter. I also slow down to a stop as a smile tugs at the edges of my lips. "Oh, hey Juan! Didn't see you there."

He looks behind his back for good measure and turns to stare at me. "Are you stalking me?"

I scoff in feigned annoyance. "What the fuck? Am I not allowed to go for a run now? Do you own these streets or something?"

"No, but—"

"Hey, hey, " I quickly interrupt him. "Less chatting, more running."

I will my feet to start moving again and he immediately catches up. "So...how are you feeling?"

"Tired, " I reply.

"I meant from last night."

Well that's a surprise. I didn't think he would remember it, let alone be worried about my condition. "Oh. I'm fine. It's nothing, really, " I wave a dismissive hand.

He stares at me for a moment too long before turning his head straight. "That's good."

After that, neither me nor him try to elaborate on the topic. For some moments, the only thing heard is our combined panting and heavy breathing and it doesn't do much to tame my wild brain from going places. I push the dirty thoughts aside for later reference and give my head a slight tilt to peek at him."Tell me more about yourself, Juan."

"What do you wanna know?" he asks without looking.

"Everything."

He laughs delightedly. "Ok but you're gonna have to ask me questions, though. I don't know where to start."

"Perfect. Where do you live?"

His neck does a ninety-degree turn with such a lightning speed that I'm scared he broke a bone or two. "I knew you were stalking me!" he exclaims as if he had made a scientific discovery.

I smack my lips impatiently. "Just answer the damn question!"

"Two blocks from here."

"That means the coffee shop is close to your house, right?"

"I live in an apartment, " he adds and gives a curt nod before his attention is back to me. "Okay, my turn now. Did you ever go to college?"

Not this shit again. If I hadn't been attracted to his ridiculously good looks, he would be rubbing at a sore spot in between his eyeballs. "Goodness, child. You really are stubborn."

"Hey, it's only fair if you keep asking me questions, " he protests and instead of angering me, the harmless expression turns my insides into jelly. I was finding it hard to keep up with the constant appearances of his duality. It was weird. I barely knew this guy and I still told him things so strictly personal that I'd never thought I'd say out loud. 

" I dropped out of college after the first year. Couldn't afford it."

And just like that, the jolly, playful countenance disappears to be replaced by a darker one. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

"I dropped too, " he continues. " Guess studies weren't exactly my thing."

"Oh wow. We have so much in common."

A pause.

"Where's your family?"

I was starting to think this kid was more interested in my personal life than me as a person. "Back home."

He doesn't say anything, waiting for me to explain further and unfortunately, I fall prey to his puppy eyes staring at me intently. An uncomfortable ball of imaginary yarn settles at the base of my throat. I try to gulp it down while fighting to keep the slight tremble in my voice from showing.  " They...did some things to me. Bad things. I'm never going back."

He notices my discomfort, bless his soul, and decides to drop it. "My parents live far from here and I don't visit them as much. So yeah, that sucks."

His poor attempt at sympathizing with me makes my lips crack into a subtle grin. "Are all parents bad or are we just awful teenagers?"

"Both, I guess, " he chuckles.

Just when I assume the twenty-one question game has finally come to an end, he proves me wrong for the bazillionth time. "Is there anyone you hang out, at least?"

"You, " I answer.

His eyes widen twice their original size and I laugh through my nose. "Just kidding. I have a friend called Anna. Such a nice, caring and sweet girl." My lips twitch on the side to impersonate a somber smile but I had the feeling it looked like I was having a nervous tick. "She's to die for."

Time is cruel to us, swallowing up each patch of daylight until the sky has turned into the purest baby blue and let the rays of sunlight fall astray into our poor backs. The heat and the exhaustion makes us slow our pace. Then, suddenly a sharp pain stabs me across my knee and I wince discreetly.

"Do you go to work?" Juan asks, oblivious to my current torture.

"No, I quit, " I say, refusing to admit that the reason for that hadn't really been my choice. "Why'd you ask?"

"Well, it's just that—" He abruptly stops and his eyes shift their attention to my legs, staring hard at them.

"What?" 

"You're bleeding, " he states, matter of factly.

I snap my head down and take note of the way my knee is soaked in a dark red stain, slowly webbing its tendrils along the fabric."Aw shit, " I curse under my breath.

"You need to go to the hospital, " Jungkook quickly intervenes before a long string of profanities can spill over my lips.

"No. No more hospitals. I'll just go home and put some fresh bandages on it."

"Okay, well let me come with you."

I take a step back and shake my head from side to side. "For the last time, I don't need your help, Juan. Here are my key—" I frantically fish my pockets but they're completely empty, save for that stupid paper towel that I had somehow forgotten there. "Fuck no! Fuck no!"

Juan's brow bunches up in distress as his judging eyes give me a hard stare. "You already made that joke once."

"I'm not joking around, you idiot!" I snap, probably a bit too harsh but the panic seems to have gotten under my skin for me to care at this point. "I forgot my keys!"

So, that's what kept nagging me in the morning. I mentally slap myself for being such a careless mess and vow to not make the same mistake again.

"Let's go to the hospital, " Juan calmly repeats, seemingly unaffected by my sudden burst of anger. I wonder if he was hiding his hurt on the inside. If that was true, I'd have to give him a round of applause because he was sure doing a hell of a good job.

"No."

"Do you want to bleed to death?" This time he can't help the hint of anger from seeping into his voice.

I say nothing.

"If you don't want to go to the hospital then come with me back at my place. I have some bandages too."

"Absolutely not!" I protest, outraged. If this kept going on, we would end up at each other's throats.

"Look, it's either that or the hospital. You pick." 

Shit. He had me cornered. Well, what was I to say? I liked hanging out with him but I also didn't want him to see me in such a vulnerable state and make me feel indebted to him. It had already happened once and I hadn't liked it not even one bit. "I can't just come at your place, " I say with a lilt of playfulness in my voice. My figure was already frayed at the edges and he was quick to catch sight of it. "What if you're a murdering psychopath in disguise?"

He smiles in earnest, as if I'd just told him he was the nicest guy on the planet. "Then you can always stab me with a kitchen knife."

This was wrong. This was so wrong. I couldn't just go to his house, dammit. I was letting my guard down way too much. No way I was doing this.

"Fine, " I finally surrender and wish I'd bitten my tongue in time before the word made it past my lips.

~ JUNGKOOK ~

By the time we get to my apartment, the sun has already reached its highest peak in the horizon and the powerfully bright rays start to make me feel a bit wobbly.

I had offered Jojo to at least hold on to me but she seemed hellbent on making it by herself. I could see how much the wound was hurting her, yet she refused to let any emotion whatsoever show on her face.

I open the door unceremoniously and pause to let her in first. She carefully shuffles her steps with a heavy limp weighing her down but I could see that she was still having second thoughts on whether to enter a complete stranger's apartment or not. As soon as she passes the threshold, I release a sigh I didn't realize I'd been holding.

Her head starts turning from side to side, scanning the interiors of the living room. I suddenly feel self-conscious. Is the place messy? Did I forget to put my socks on the laundry basket? I was worried she would shy away and leave altogether. 

"Nice place you got here, " Jojo says with a whistle.

I unconsciously smile but it fades away the moment she plops down onto the couch, ignoring the still-fresh wound on her knee. She even has the audacity to swing her leg over the edge and let it dangle there. So much for shying away.

"I'll go get the bandages, " I announce and retreat into the bathroom, keeping an eye on her from the way back. She gives me a salute before going back to studying the walls with curious eyes.

I hurry up and lock myself up in the bathroom and immediately, the sight of my disheveled look greets me in the mirror. My hair is wild, some strands clinging with sweat onto my temples and some flailing in the air like unmowed grass. My skin glistens with a fine sheen of wetness that makes me itch with discomfort and there's a pink blush settled on my nose and cheekbones. Did I really look like this all morning?

I let the water of the faucet run under my hands and give my face a quick splash. Why am I so nervous, dammit? It's just a girl. I really need to get a hold of myself. The image of her face reminds me of the reason I came here in the first place. I hurriedly grab the bandages from the counter along with some alcohol, cotton pads and a towel.

I take a deep breath and return to the living room with a forced air of nonchalance. "I got the—" I announce but the words falter when I see the empty couch. Where the hell did she go?

"You have very good-looking parents. No wonder where you got the genes, " her voice is heard from the other side of the room and I see her standing by one of the shelves, examining the tiny picture of my mom and dad, smiling at each other while my older brother cuddles my dog's white fur.

"Uh..thanks, " I manage as I scratch my neck.

At this, she turns around and finally looks at me. "Nothing to be shy about, Juan. You're handsome. You don't need glasses to see that."

"I—"

"Alright, are you gonna give me those or not?" she questions with a sly smile, pointing her chin towards the items in my hands and I internally curse from the distraction. Oh, she really did enjoy toying around with me. 

I prevent myself from stuttering another word and slowly approach her. She grabs the things from my hands and sits on the couch yet again. Her condition was no better than mine. A single drop of sweat slides from the side of her cheek and travels down her neck in an excruciating slow motion. Her complexion had turned ruddy and her hair stuck to her edges with perspiration. How she had managed to run so hard in that state was beyond me.

I silently hand her the towel first. "Dab your neck with this before you catch a cold."

 She looks at me with a slight tilt of her head but accepts it nonetheless, mumbling a "dab on them haters" under her breath. 

"What about you?" she asks aloud. "You're literally dripping." As if summoned, another drop of sweat free-falls from my chin and onto the floor.

"It's okay. I'll be fine, " I quickly reply.

"Well aren't you a tough cookie?" she giggles. "Get it? Tough? Kookie? Jungkookie?"

I almost snort. And as if that wasn't enough, the nickname she used made this weird sensation creep onto my stomach.

After she's done drying her skin, she crouches down to take a look at the wound that still kept trickling blood. Her careful fingers roll the dirtied bandage around her knee to reveal such a nasty sight, I almost gasp in surprise. The blood had smeared the skin around the edges and on its center there's a blackish liquid that looks like anything but blood.

"Oh shit, " she whispers, obviously not expecting the wound to be in such a degree. I move forward with worry in my trembling form but she's quick to stop me."No, it's okay. I got it."

"But it looks really ba-"

"Thanks Juan, but I said I can handle it."

I silently get back and let her do the work herself. She seemed so used to this process, as if she had done it countless of times before. Her hands are quick and agile, snatching the alcohol and cotton pads and then proceeding to wrap brand new bandages around her knee. Not a single hiss or whine falls from her lips. After she successfully finishes, she lifts her head to gift me a charming innocent smile. As if she hadn't just split her knee open. This girl...

After that, the room falls into an awkward silence so I keep looking everywhere else but her. "Do you want something to drink?" I offer.

"Once a waiter, always a waiter, " she sighs while scratching her forehead. 

"Okay, what do you have?"

"Let me check," I announce and head to the fridge without another word. I examine the contents within and yell from across the room. "Um... coke?" "I don't do drugs, " she yells back.

"As in the drink, Jojo."

"Oh. What kind?"

"The regular one."

"No diet coke?"

"No. Sorry."

"Okay, just get me a glass of water."

I come back with the glass and hesitate a split second before handing it to her. 

"I really like your place, Juan," she says after a tiny sip. "Its so....you."

A discouraged laugh escapes from me. "You don't even know me."

"Says who? I'm excellent at knowing people's personalities on first sight, " she continues after another sip.

"What about you then?" I suddenly ask.

"My place or my personality?"

"Both."

She considers it a moment before answering. "Well, both suck compared to you. Especially my apartment, Juan. You wouldn't believe the fucking mess I make all the time."

She sounded nonchalant about the matter but I could sense the discomfort behind the words. She was having it harder than she let on.

"What are you gonna do from now on?" I ask, careful not to sound intrusive. "You lost your job right? How are you gonna pay your rent?

She plasters a smile on her face. "I'll figure something out." 

Before I can push it further with my vast myriad of questions, she rises from the couch and sets  the glass on the table. " Well, I better go now. Thanks for the help, Juan. I'll see you around."

I watch with frozen limbs as she makes her way towards the door with that tilt on her step and wonder if I really was crazy after the next words I hear coming out of my mouth.

"Wait!"

She slowly turns around and gives me a curious look.

"I have a proposal, " I say before I can regret it.

She grins in response. "Thanks but I'm too young to get married."

"No, not that. I was wondering... I mean if you want to...." I've never felt more nervous in my life. My words keep stumbling into one another and I can barely keep the the inexplicable stutter out of my voice. "You can—you can work at the coffee shop with me. I can convince my boss to get you the job."

She smiles and pivots on her heel. " Yeah, right."

"Hey, I'm serious."

"Forget it, " she says without turning around.

"Why forget it? Aren't you struggling?"

For a moment it seems like I've caught her attention. She pauses in her steps and slowly turns around until she's completely facing me. There are no more hints of smiles or amusement. Just a blank expression that for some reason looks sadder than anything else. "I don't want your pity."

"Its not pity, " I protest. "We've been short of staff anyway and you need a job. It's a win-win for both of us."

She takes a deep breath and lets it out just as harshly. "Why are you doing this, Juan? The hospital and the bandages and everything... Why are you helping me?"

"I like helping people, " I simply reply.

"Some people don't like to be helped."

"Well, if you think that, you're an idiot!" I snap as a pinch of anger sneaks into my voice.

She raises an eyebrow.

"Look, " I continue. "I don't know if I've done something wrong or if you just don't like people in general. I was just trying to help. If you don't want it, the door's right there."

Okay, now I really fucked up. I'd never been so straight-forward to someone before but it was like her sharp jabs had forced the harsh words right out of my mouth. Sometimes, the frustration overwhelmed me to the point I couldn't tell right from wrong.

She's frozen in her spot, wide eyes staring at me in a mix of shock and wonder. But then, her eyes slowly drag along my body, giving me a once-over before setting on my face. Her lips crack into a lopsided grin that was anything but innocent. "I like you, Juan, " she says and heads for the door before pausing on the threshold.  "And I'll think about your offer."

The door closes shut behind her and just like that, she's gone.  

~ JOJO ~

There's no way I'm doing this, I say to myself as I take a hot shower. No fucking way, I repeat as I get dressed and tighten my shoelaces. I felt like a mere sheep heading to meet the butcher's axe. But the sheep was making this choice herself. She was willing. 

I was afraid the boy had put a spell on me. I'd never been so weak-hearted and obedient to someone's  requests. Here I was, going to that cursed coffee shop even after all the fights with Anna last night. She kept persuading me to stay inside, lock myself up in my room and not talk to anyone for the next week or so. She'd never been the social type, the bitch.

Most people said it was like a voice in your head urging you to do whatever it wanted, but that was not the case at all. If the concept of Ana was that unrealistic it wouldn't be so hard to label it as just another link into the shackles of mental disturbances but the thing was, there was that doubt that made you hesitate on whether these were actually your thoughts that made you behave this way or something actually real and tangible. The feeling of something not claiming its existence but still lingering like a shadow on your every step.Is it me or her?Who said that?

I shake my head violently to clear my thoughts as I find myself in front of the shop's entrance.The floor seems to wobble beneath my feet and I doubted whether it was just because of the fact that my stomach had crumpled in itself like a sheet of paper.

I clear my throat loudly to capture the attention of the man hunched on the counter.He slowly lifts his head as an automatic smile appears on his face. “Yes?"

I steady my posture. "I'm looking for someone named Jungkook. He works here."

His eyebrows almost touch his hairline but he's quick to recollect himself. "Oh, sure. He's in the back fixing some stuff. I'll go get him for you."

He disappears behind a door and comes back two seconds later with the reason of my sleepless nights by his side. 

"You're here!" Jungkook exclaims, a little too loud for my liking. He seemed slightly surprised, as if he hadn't thought I would actually come. Couldn't blame the guy. There were times when traces of bipolarism would make it hard for people to understand what I actually meant.

Jungkook's open-lipped smile is almost contagious. He tramples his way forward and stops just an inch further, towering over me.The all-black outfit was present even today but this time an apron adorns his slim waist.

"I am, " I simply add.

"Oh, I almost forgot. This is Kwan, " he says as he gestures toward the smiley man. "We've been working together since I can remember."

I flick my eyes to the latter and nod a salute at him. "You should've called this place 'Juan and Kwan'. Quite catchy, if you ask me."

The man named Kwan chuckles. "She's funny. Where did you find her, Jungkook?"

"Oh, I'm the one who found him, " I intervene. "Besides, we've met before. I'm the green tea girl."

His eyes slightly widen with a sense of realization as he nods along. Ironically enough, my stomach whines so loudly to the point where even Jungkook hears it. He points a finger at it. "You really need to shut that thing up."

I look down to my stomach and talk to it as if it were a real person. "Hey thing, shut up. Juan doesn't like the way you sound."

"Did you even eat anything on the way here? There are some cupcakes if you want, " Jungkook insists with the tone of a concerned mother.

"I'm not hungry, Juan. Must be uhh... my seven month-old baby."

Jungkook shakes his head in surrender and asks for me to follow him behind the same room he came from. My nervousness raises tenfold as a bunch of unpleasant thoughts immediately rush into my brain. If I didn't get this job, I could say goodbye to normalcy. I would fall down the hole dug by my own hands and never come back out. All the hard work of these past months out in the trash.

"Don't worry, " Jungkook reassures. "You'll do great."

~ JUNGKOOK ~

She was bursting with joy. It was like her face had been washed in the late afternoon sunlight, illuminating its every corner. She wasn't ridiculously beautiful or anything like that but there was something so captivating about watching that smile brighten up her features like a glorious sunrise, I could barely keep myself from staring.

However, one thing I learned about her was that she really knew how to celebrate. Her hands are struggling to hold all the groceries she'd gotten at the supermarket. Well...if you could call them groceries. All I could see were tons of candies and deserts and all sorts of sugary stuff able to furnish a dozen sweet-toothed five year-olds.

 But the thing that baffled me the most is that she'd invited me at her place to thank me for the new job. I thought after all the fights she'd put up to keep me far and away she wouldn't give in so easily. Guess I'd been wrong.

"I thought you said you weren't hungry. " I watch her chew on a chocolate-covered donut that gave me diabetes just by looking at it.

"If there's one thing you need to know about me, Juan, is that I change my mind way too often, " she mumbles in between mouthfuls.

"Yeah I can see that, " I add.

"Hey, shut up now, will you? We need to celebrate!"

"By eating trash?"

"They say you are what you eat, " she replies.

I angrily grab the grocery bags from her hands and let her lead the way to her apartment. "Don't call yourself that. "

The jokes she constantly jabbed could be hilarious to someone else but they just did not sit well with me. I only found them as extremely self-deprecating and dark. It was the go-to type of thing for the depressed and people were so used to normalizing them, it was hard to point it out from time to time.

Her mouth pauses chewing as she gives me a hard but harmless stare.  "Fuck, don't do that to me."

"Do what?" 

The deep sigh she lets out through her nose tickles my eyelashes. She stops in front of the door and leans her back on it. "You keep being nice even when I annoy you."

"You don't annoy me, " I say quietly.

"Yes I do. I annoy everyone." Another sigh. "You know, Juan, all my life I've been treated like a joke. Yeah, I joke around a lot so I'll get joked at. Understandable. But like, no one has treated me the way you do before. You listen to what I have to say and give me honest answers and most importantly, you are serious when you need to be."

"Isn't that how everyone is supposed to be?"

"No. If I told someone I'm feeling sad they'll laugh at my face 'cause they think I don't have the right to feel anything."

"Well, fuck them, " I snap.

Her jaw almost drops to the floor. "Woah! I've never heard you swear before. That was low-key hot. Do it again."

I scratch the back of my head in discomfort and fumble with the edge of my T-shirt. Out of all the things she could've said..."Um...shit?"

The disappointment washes over her face as she scoffs and shakes her head disapprovingly. "Fucking rookie".

It is quiet for a few moments, save for the slight creak of the yellow door opening wide enough to finally offer me a front seat view of her apartment. I'd been strangely curious about what it would look like, eager to get to know more about where she lived, where she slept, what things the was interested in and no matter the weird turn my thoughts had taken I couldn't help but crave for more.

She lets me pass the threshold and takes the grocery bags from me to put them on the kitchen counter. The place reeked of lemons, their acrid stench filling the air to the point where it made my nose itch. I spot a few loose skins and other remnants by the table.Except for that, everything looked pretty much normal. Plain and bare of excessive decorations but I could see that she'd made efforts into putting her own preferences out in the open, littering the walls and ceiling. She liked minimalism, I could see.

"Did you throw a lemonade party last night?" I ask with the tiniest bit of chuckle tumbling from my mouth.

Her eyes flick to the evidence and I sense something I'd never witnessed so boldly in them before. Panic. "Oh, t-that..." she nervously stutters but it's gone in a blink as she quickly gains her composure. "Just an experiment. I love science." I hum in agreement and eye the couch on my right. "Can I sit?"

"Yeah, yeah sure. Make yourself at home. But I have to warn you there's nothing on the fridge so you're left with these, " she says, giving the sweet goodies a single heave.

"Oreos, please." I stretch my hand across and a huge grin pulls at the edges of her lips. 

We spend the next few minutes sitting in silence, munching cavities away like they were our last meal. It was surprising to say that it did not for a moment feel weird nor awkward. We barely knew each other and yet we seemed like two old pals seeking comfort into each other's presence.

"My place sucks, doesn't it?" she suddenly asks.

"Not really, " I reply. "I think it's pretty."

A confused frown appears on her face as she keeps munching on a chocolate bar. "How come?"

"Well, beauty is subjective, Jojo. What looks pretty in my eyes may not be the same for you."

"Deep words for a teenager, " she mumbles.

"Look who's talking."

"Yeah, yeah..." She waves her hand dismissively but I don't miss the tiny smirk hidden in her cheeks.

The grocery bags start to slowly empty. I was worried she was gonna make herself sick with all the sugar already flowing in her body. 

She suddenly gets up and stretches, reaching with the tips of her fingertips up to the ceiling. Her hoodie rides up and I almost gasp in surprise. There are several marks littering the thin stripe of exposed skin, some dark, some purple and some turning yellowish. They made such a stark contrast with the pale white complexion that didn't exactly match the tone of her face. She'd obviously never worn anything too revealing, the sun rays far from tanning the skin. Before I can gawk my eyes out, it's gone in an instant when the hoodie falls back in place. 

"This shit's addicting, " she says pointing at the leftovers on the table.

I could only wonder if she really had more problems than she let on. From what I'd gathered, she'd subtly admitted to being a victim of domestic abuse but that was a long time ago, wasn't it? Why were there still fresh scars on her body? As if to add on to my assumption I take notice of her bandaged hand.

"Where's that friend you mentioned?" I ask. "Was it Annie...Ann?"

Her eyes flick back to mine. "You mean Anna? She's always here for some reason. I consider more like family, to be honest. Never leaves my side. Just not today." 

There was something fishy about the way Jojo's eyes turned glassy and distant every time she mentioned her friend. It kept rubbing me the wrong way.

I ask her to use the restroom and she shows me the way in a few curt gestures. As soon as I get inside, I am met with my distorted reflection on the mirror. A huge web blossomed into the side. Someone had cracked it, that part was fairly obvious. 

What the hell was wrong this girl?

I wash my hands mindlessly and return to the living room. Jojo sits on the couch, man-spreading like a fourty-year old man on his second divorce. She winces once or twice and exhales through her nose. " I think I ate too much, " she whines.

"You think?"

"It's all your fault. You're the one who convinced me to eat, " she accuses.

"Well, I certainly didn't tell you to eat junk." I join her on the couch from a fair distance as she sulks away the nausea.

"What happened to your mirror?" I softly ask.

"I punched it, " she answers without looking.

"Why?"

"There was a fly on it and it kept buzzing while I was taking a shit."

I didn't believe that for a second but I nod my head nonetheless. From that moment on, she only adds to the dark jokes and I pretend to fall for them. All until the moment I require permission to leave with the excuse of having to work again tomorrow.

 I can't deny the sick, empty feeling at the pit of my stomach when I watch her follow me with her sad stare as I leave the apartment .

~ JUNGKOOK ~

The days go by smoothly. It took a while for Jojo to get the hand of it, but soon enough, the orders look like mere tools in her hands, bending to her will. Thank goodness, she had the conscience not to lash out at rude customers even though I could see how hard she strained the muscles of her forearms by her sides. She was the first to arrive and the last to leave the coffee shop. All that and she still kept to her strict schedule, running every day at the crack of dawn. Every single day. Even I didn't work out that much.

I had to admit that my interest for her kept increasing more and more with every new detail I noticed. I was intrigued to find out more about her and I strangely found myself being pulled to her presence like a magnet. We'd continued our shared runs and conversations on each other's apartments more often than I remembered but there was still no progress on our status. Well, I once called her my friend and she didn't object to it so that must be a start.

"Well, someone's got a new crush."

I rip my eyes off Jojo's figure and come face to face with Kwan's amused stare. "What?"

"You like her, don't you?" Kwan teases further.

I sigh deeply and put my apron on the counter, ready for my lunch break. "I don't know, honestly, " I admit. "I'm not sure what it is, exactly."

"Listen, I know a crush when I see one and yours definitely is . Why don't you ask her out?"

"It's complicated."

Before Kwan can torture me with his long string of questions, Jojo stomps her way toward us with closed fists. "I swear to God if that bitch asks for a menu one more time..."

"Hey, hey we talked about this, " Kwan interferes. "Deep breaths. In and out."

She does what she's told a couple of turns and then rests her hand on her hip. "Nope. I'm still angry. I have to punch something."

"No violence in our workplace, Jojo."

She pouts in distaste and then suddenly her eyes land on mine. Her hand reaches out and points at my chin. "You got a little something.."

I dip my vision down only to be met with her index and middle finger giving my head a hard flick. She erupts in teasing giggles, soon joined by Kwan's booming laughter.

"Gotcha! Bro, I feel better already, " she says and gives Kwan a manly fist bump. I shake my head in surrender, a coy smile tugging at the corners of my lips and head for the room on the back. I hear the swish of Jojo's apron on the counter as she  soon falls into my steps. We had a ten minute break everyday and Jojo was never one to miss it, always deciding to share that precious time with me. She kinda ruined it with the jokes sometimes but I didn't really mind.

She offers me a slice of cucumber trapped on the sharp edge of her knife and I politely decline. She always did that, sharing food left and right even though most of the times it wasn't even that much to begin with.

"Wanna hangout after work?" I suddenly ask. I hadn't planned this at the slightest. It was like the words jumped right out of my throat. Sure, we'd hung out before but only on days off and certainly not on evenings.

She hesitates for a moment before chewing on the cucumbers. "Sure, why not? It's Sunday tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah, " I admit.

"Cool."

I try not to let the excitement show on my face as I finish the last bits of my lunch. The late afternoon takes longer than usual to arrive. By the end of the shift, I'd been itching to get the apron off. Jojo, on the other hand seems unbothered. For her it was probably just another day with the bane of her existence. She nudges her elbow into my side as we exit the doors together, throwing a glance at the bike by the side of the road. She would ride that thing here everyday even though the memories of the accident were still fresh. "I'll just leave it here tonight, " she says, as if reading my thoughts. "Don't wanna make your sorry ass struggle to keep up with me."

I give her a teasing light push and pull at a string on her hair. "Fuck off."

We go for a series of playful kicks and thrashes that turn milder and milder with every inch we come closer to my apartment. By the point we've reached the door, my poor hair is being twisted like a rope in her cruel hands. She really liked touching my hair. She kept saying she'd braid it or put it in a ponytail at least once before she died. Me on the other hand had scolded her for mentioning death in the first place.

"Ok, but you have to let me style it for you, " she insists, never dropping the issue.

"No, thank you. I like my hair the way it is, " I reply in feigned smugness.

"Asshole, " she mumbles under her breath.

"What?"

"I said Casserole. I'm craving some."

My eye creases soften on their own. "I can make it for you if you want."

"You know how?"

"No, but I can look it up online."

At that, a shy smile brushes  her features. "Nah, it's alright. I think about all sorts of food all the time. I'd probably change my mind after five minutes."

She plops down on the couch comfortably and groans when the bones of her back click to let her unwind. The way she'd grown more and more comfortable around me gave me this weird sense of satisfaction, as if I'd been seeking for that validation from the start. In fact, our whole situation was weird. I enjoyed her company and hopefully the feeling was mutual but there was still something missing. I didn't know exactly what but I certainly knew that deep down she was hiding a whole different personality.

My apartment had become so familiar to her, she doesn't hesitate to let me know without much further ado that she'd be using the restroom. But just before fully rising, she types something down on her phone with the utmost concentration. The only reason why it attracted my attention was the excessive amount of times she'd done that for today. And yesterday. And days before that. It would take one bite of her food and she'd immediately reach for her phone.

Did she use a calorie tracker?

I curse myself enough to damn my soul to hell for the rest of eternity but it still doesn't stop my hand from shakily grasping the phone lying on the couch. I draw the pattern I'd memorized from watching her unlock it all those times and just like that, the  Notes app lights back into life. My eyes widen with every single line I read.

Day 35 I fucked up today. I had three donuts for breakfast and pizza for dinner. The cravings are fucking horrible. Total : 1560 cals

I scroll down to some days back.

Day 34 I wouldn't say it's bad. I went for a run and had an apple afterwards. Take that Anna, you  whiny bitch! Total: 78 cals

There's a visible pattern in the notes; wins, losses,relapses. My eyes scan the screen speedily, fleeting through each letter and word.

Guess what? I fucked up again—

I hate myself—

I did not eat anything today! Nothing, I tell you! Haven't felt this empty since—

I so wanna die right now—

Please make it stop—

Day 71 No comment

Day 72 No comment

No comment

No comment

No comment—

"That's my phone, you know."

I raise my head to level my blown-out pupils with her calm ones. Unperturbed. Smooth like waves in a gentle breeze. She doesn't look angry to witness my shameless snooping, just disappointed. She knows that I know. It all makes sense now. The scars, the small meals, the excessive workouts...I feel a pang in my chest for being such a fool all this time.

I muster whatever courage left within me and rasp out the words. "Who exactly is Anna?"

~ JOJO ~

"She's a bitch."

"An imaginary bitch, " Jungkook emphasizes.

"Doesn't make her less of a bitch, " I mumble.

He has been giving me a cold yet sympathizing stare for the last five minutes but I knew that deep inside he was bashing himself for not knowing.

"It's short for Anorexia, " I clarify.

"How long has this been going on?" Jungkook continues. He didn't seem like giving up on the detective role anytime soon. Little did I know that he would fully embrace the title.

"Three years."

His head drops in his hands. He gives his pretty face a hard rub before turning it back towards me, eyes now laced with something similar to compassion.

"Why aren't you looking at me like that?" I ask him.

"Like what?"

"Like I'm some sort of freak."

"You're not a freak, " he grits between his teeth.

"But that's what everyone would say if I told them. I know they'll look at me differently."

"I'm not everyone."

He was right. He wasn't everyone. That's why I kept dropping hints on him with every chance I could get. I wanted him to know but then again I didn't want him to know. It was hard to explain.

Jungkook keeps his piercing stare on me, hoping to get a reaction. Then he pats the spot next to him on the couch as a few strands of hair fall into his eyes. It made him look so adorable, I decided right there and then I would do whatever he said. Just asking would be enough.

"What's it like?" he asks as soon as I make myself comfortable.

"My disorder?"

He nods.

I think for a few moments before answering. How was I supposed to to explain it? It had been by my side for such a long time, I didn't know how to tell my disease and myself apart.

"Well, to begin with, I'm fat."

Come on. Say it. Come on.

His eyebrows scrunch in disbelief. "No, you're not."

There you go.

"You look pretty normal to me, " he continues.

"Normal is just another word for "you're fat but I don't wanna say it in your face, " I spit and it only makes him look more confused. "Oh, come on. I bet the first thing that came to your mind when you thought about anorexia was a skinny pale girl looking at a mirror. See? I knew it. In people's eyes anorexia and non-skinny people do not correlate."

Jungkook looks embarrassed to say the least. I know he's trying his best to find a gentle way around me but the deep crimson of his cheeks doesn't make it any easier for him. "I—"

"Look, Juan. I don't wanna overwhelm you with my bullshit. I'm sick in the head, okay? The things I do are not cool and I don't want you to be part of it."

"I thought we were friends..." he whispers in a low voice.

"We are but—"

"Just explain it to me, please. I'll help you get rid of it."

He really had no idea. His gullible self couldn't understand that this was not just a disorder. It was a lifestyle and the only way I knew how to survive. I release a sigh of defeat and try to muster the most joyful tone. "Fine. You wanna know what it's like? I'll tell you what it's like. Every day, I get up from that bed with the sole purpose of starving. I don't want to eat. It's that simple. Now you're probably thinking: ' why the fuck aren't you dead yet?' That's because I can't starve correctly, Juan. I can't do shit."

Jungkook keeps his unwavering stare directed towards my face and hands that passionately make weird gestures from time to time. I notice something sparking within me, a small flare of anger and pent up frustration finally getting some release. Saying the words out loud was unnerving. I'd never imagined them anywhere but on the interiors of my head.

"Numbers are important. I can't tell the difference even if I lost some weight. That's why I use the scale everyday."

"What do you usually eat?" Jungkook carefully asks.

"Anything that has low calories in it. But it doesn't last long and I'll immediately eat junk food three times the amount. Starve. Binge. Starve. Binge. It's a vicious cycle."

"Why don't you try a healthy diet?"

I let out a humorless laugh. "Wow, you're richer than I thought."

He blinks. "What? Why?"

"Healthy diets are expensive, dumbass. Ever wondered how rich people have those avocado diets and that type of shit? But that's just an excuse. The real reason is that I lack will."

"If you lacked will, you'd be dead by now."

"That's where I'm heading."

His head falls in his hands again and those pretty smooth lips mumble under his fingers. "You're not satisfied with your body?"

"Not satisfied is an understatement. I hate my body. It's hard to explain actually. I don't want to be sick to the point where I can't even stand but I don't want to be curvy either , you know what I mean? Its like I want a thin body but then I see a muscular one and I'm like ooh I want that one too and I don't know..."

Jungkook's eyes seem to sparkle on that. "So, you want a lean muscular body?

"Yes."

"That's not so hard to achieve."

I put up my best fake surprised-expression. "No shit, sherlock. Why didn't you just say so? You would've saved me from a lot of trouble."

"Fuck you, " he grumbles.

"I'm already fucked for life my man."

His deep sigh tickles my face. "You're impossible. How can you joke about this?"

"Then what am I supposed to do? Cry about it? Trust me, I've tried that a lot of times. It won't do shit. If I laugh about it, it won't be as shitty, " I add. "But jokes aside, it's not just about being thin. Its also about being in control, being aware of your own body. I feel so angry and frustrated  every time I lose my streak."

To my surprise, he smirks in such an inappropriate way, it paints his face in a whole new canvas . "Don't worry. There are some situations where control just isn't needed."

I almost choke on my spit. Jungkook, being audacious? Well that was new. "Feeling bold, Juan?" I tease.

"Maybe, " he admits but now it had turned into what seemed like a shy smile. I try to latch onto that glimpse of humor and normalcy in hopes of taming the wild turns and takes of our conversation. But just when I thought I'd taken hold of it, Jungkook jumps into a new question. "What else can you tell me?"

I highly doubted I would be able to spill the contents of my soul in such a short time but if he was so hellbent on knowing more, knowing he would get." I can tell you a lot of things but I can also guarantee they're not pleasant."

He doesn't even blink.

"Fine. You asked for it." I pause. " I've been like this for three years now and it has only gotten worse as time passed. I already know what you've seen online and what you think eating disorders are. Trust me, it's bullshit. Don't believe the shit they give you. Do you know how many overweight people are anorexic? A whole bunch of them but if they tell anyone about it they'll get laughed at 'cause apparently anorexia exist only for skinny white girls. A lot of guys have it too. But they call it cutting back some pounds when they hit the gym. No way that's unhealthy, right? Totally justified. It's all just a big pile of shit. There's nothing cute or romantic about it. You know what's funny? I can go for days without taking a shit but I'll pee every two hours. I drink so much water to the point where it makes me sick. I never get warm. I take every single bite counting numbers in my head and wondering how I'll burn it off later, I spin in circles to make myself sick just so I won't be able to eat, I measure my waist three times a day and I feel like fainting every time I get up. I hurt myself 'cause I don't like what I see."

I feel that familiar ball of imaginary yarn settle to the base of my throat but I push it back down just as fast. Not now. Anytime but now.

Jungkook's eyes glint with sadness. He gulps once before lowering his vision and choosing to stare at the hands resting on his lap. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, " I reply. " It's not your fau—"

His hand shoots out to capture my own. A thousand tiny electric sparkles tingle up my arm. Maybe it's the lack of contact or just the knowledge that it's him but the way his warm palm fits into mine feels so right and I can't move it away for the life of me. His thumb brushes lightly across my knuckles. "I'm not pitying you, okay?" he says in a gentle voice. "I would never pity you. I just don't want to see you like this."

I lift my eyes to his own and stare at him like he was a glass statue, pouring some of his brightness on me. I didn't understand why he hadn't kicked me off yet. And to think that I was enjoying it...

Jungkook observes the slight tremor of my hand in his, which I'm desperately trying to hide and a subtle smile graces his lips. "You're touch starved, " he murmurs. Not in a malicious way. Not mocking me for it. Just stating things out in the open. It was the quality I liked the most about him.

"Physical contact is a luxury to me," I admit.

"It shouldn't be. You're human."

"I'm not even sure about that anymore."

The smile stretches wider as his nimble fingers intertwine with my trembling ones in a gentle, yet firm grip.

"Is this okay?" he questions, eyes set on the motion.

"No, but carry on."

It all felt like a guilty pleasure, like those sweet candies your mother keeps hiding from you and when you do find them, the taste is but absolute bliss. A forbidden fruit. I knew I shouldn't be leading him anywhere and spoil his peaceful life with my problems but I couldn't make myself pull back either. I was all of a sudden caught up between two fires that would scorch me and themselves in the end. Pushing people away or letting them in the confines of my chaos. I would lose either way.

I put on my best unperturbed mask to make it known I wasn't affected at the very least but just like that, his other hand slides up to my elbow and locks it in place. His deep look burns with something I can't quite decipher. "Can I kiss you?" he suddenly asks.

I freeze for a split second but try to shake it off with an intentional raise of my eyebrow. "Why?"

"I want to, " he breathes.

I was torn between slapping some sense into him and laughing my ass off but I do neither. My posture stays unmoving, waiting. "Do you really want to?" I ask again.

"Yeah, " he confesses and I catch his eyes glancing down to my lips.

I shrug. "Okay."

I've barely gotten the word out when he closes the small distance in a matter of seconds. A hand latches onto my jaw to angle it better and that's where I feel the soft, plushy texture of his lips come into contact with mine. They're so delicate and move so gently, I feel like I've ascended into time and space. I let his bangs tickle my cheekbones because it obscured his eyes from view and I didn't want to witness the reality of it.

Before I can dwell longer on them, he pulls back, forming the smallest of distances. His pupils are blown out, dark eyes staring with something more than just interest. I take notice of my fist bunching up the T-shirt he's wearing. Apparently, I hadn't been able to block out all my reactions.  I release the material immediately and rise to my feet. A quick glance at the window showed that it was already dark.

"Good night, " I chirp and grab my phone resting on the table, heading speedily for the door.

Jungkook panicks and stands up just as fast. "Wait, where are you going?"

"Home," I reply.

His eyebrows bunch up in confusion yet again. "You can't just go like that after I kissed you."

"Watch me."

In less than four strides I've crossed the threshold and shut the door behind me with a thump. People were right when they said you couldn't see yourself blush but you could feel it. My whole face felt like it was on fire, an uncomfortable warmth spreading equally up to the tips of my ears. Who the fuck even blushes anymore?

I smack my lips in annoyance as I make my way down the stairs in a newfound rush. I cant deny it. I liked the kiss. Maybe a little too much. In fact I wanna go back there and steal the breath out of his lips. But I can't. It was a one time thing. And it will remain that way. Or at least I hoped so.

~ JUNGKOOK ~

Anorexia nervosa, often referred to simply as anorexia, is an eating disorder characterized by low weight, food restriction, fear of gaining weight, and a strong desire to be thin. Many people with anorexia see themselves as overweight even though they are, in fact, underweight.

Sleep is far from reach as I keep scrolling down page after page of the same generic description. Countless of pics of young girls with ribs and bones sticking out of their pale skin had been more than enough to make my own skin crawl, the after-images blazed forever behind my eyelids. She was right— they all said the same thing but I'd always known that no matter what what was said, you couldn't really  understand something without experiencing it yourself first hand.

I put my laptop aside and lay down on the warm comfort of my bed. Even though I'd willed my eyes shut, sleep just wouldn't come. She kept busying my head with all kinds of thoughts— thoughts of her disorder, thoughts of what she was doing right now and the memory of her soft lips on mine. I keep replaying that exact moment like a loop, feeding off my imagination like a middle-schooler. She'd acted like she barely gave a shit but there was no mistakening the furious blush that had fallen across her nose and cheeks all the way to the tips of her ears. It looked surprisingly adorable on her, different from any type of reaction I'd gotten in exchange.

I roll over the other side of the bed and smash the back of my head on the pillow. I'm such an asshole. And she's no better either. How can you just leave after someone kisses you?

I leave my mind pondering to these thoughts as my eyelids slowly start to weigh down on me. But just when I'm about to pass out cold, a dark figure intrudes the corner of my eye, causing my body to turn upright.

Jojo's standing by the threshold, dressed up in what looked like loose see-through sleeping clothes. The material fell in graceful waves from the hems and pooled around her ankles. It felt weird not seeing her dressed up in her usual tomboy look but I was enjoying the view nonetheless. Her hair drapes over her shoulder and hides a part of her face, the rest of it, illuminated by the moonlight seeping from the drawn-back curtains. It looked like she'd just awoken, eyes mussed up with sleep but still focused on my form. She stares deeply at me, as if waiting for something.

All traces of exhaustion now wiped clean, I push myself up on my elbows and return the stare. How had she gotten here this late? Did she know my password?

She saunters over to the bed in such a seductively delicate manner but yet it was so subtle, I doubted whether she did it on purpose or not. Her left knee touches the duvet first, making the bed dip slightly under her weight. Then she leans her palm facing down and proceeds to come closer and closer on all fours like a predator targeting its prey. I was like a deer caught in the headlights in the most cliché sense of the word. I kept observing her movements with silent adoration and the more I tried to look away, the harder my eyes seemed to fixate on her approaching form. At some point she's sitting so close to me that I can feel her soft breath fluttering my eyelashes. She slowly tilts her head and gives me a look of mild curiosity, as if puzzled by my existence there altogether.

"Can I touch you?" she softly asks. Her dark orbs bore into mine, waiting for my answer. Such a sheer persuasion is held inside of them that I find myself gulping audibly before nodding without a moment's notice. She comes impossibly closer, almost attaching her body into mine and then raises a hand up to my hair, the small fingers playfully twirling the dark locks. I then notice her own hair falling in curtains in front of her face, slightly obscuring her eyes from view. It makes her look even more mysterious and alluring, I can barely resist the urge to tuck a string back behind her ear.

"Can I do more than just touch you?" she asks again and this time the movement of her hand slows into a halt. The edges of her lips pull slightly  in a teasing manner and seem to merge into a coy smile.

My heart starts beating like crazy. I can feel it accelerate into a manic pace as it pulses with an unfaltering heat underneath my fingertips. I muster whatever air left in my lungs and whisper the words in a breeze. "Whatever you'd like."

That's all the approval she needs. She tilts her head on the side and lets the tip of her nose brush my earlobe. The breath she lets go draws from me an involuntary shudder that washes over my body; from the top of my head and down to my toes.

I fist the sheets to the point where it hurts. I wanted to touch her too, to feel her and to breathe her in. But I don't. I decide to let her be the one in control, to let her know that just a word tumbling from her lips would be enough to give her all of me. All that I had.

She drags those sinful lips along the side of my neck painfully slow and then puts her legs on each side of my hips, straddling them. And then she kisses me. Even though barely a peck, it burns scolding hot and causes my lips to burst into a heap of tingles.

My hands find their way into her waist, digging through the material but she stops me with her own and gives my chest a light push. I try to relax and let my back lower till it finally makes contact with the sheets. She hovers above me, graceful strings of hair tickling my neck as she attacks my lips again with bruising strength.

That's when I feel it. My shirt being lifted. Her cold fingertips, in stark contrast with my ridiculously hot skin, leave goosebumps in their wake. I try to reach with my hands and help her get it off but she grabs them and puts them back down. "Don't. I'll do it for you."

She resumes her previous action and sweeps my shirt completely off but not before making sure those nimble fingers slide along my skin with an added pressure. I let her. I let her do whatever she wants with me. She can have me.

I pray silently with my eyes for her to kiss me again and surprisingly, she understands. But this time I can't help the small whine coming deep from the back of my throat as she dips her head down and lets her tongue swipe a sensitive stripe on my neck. I'm scared the sheets will rip into shreds from how hard I'm twisting them.

She doesn't stop. Only goes lower and lower with open-mouthed kisses, down my chest, through the ridges of my abs, all the way to my navel. She stops there and the hard muscle of her tongue moves in a way that makes me gasp out loud. I shut my eyes tight.

When I open them again, the pressure on my tummy slowly dissipates. I drag my eyes to my front but there's no one there. Just the open window swaying the curtains and the entirety of my room swallowed by semi-darkness.

She's not here. It was just a dream.

I sit up on my bed and drag a hand to my face, rubbing it hard to pull myself together. What the hell just happened? I hate myself even more for the fact that I wish it wasn't a dream. I let my head fall back with a thump into the pillows and notice the uncomfortable heat at the bottom of my stomach. "Holy shit, " I whisper.

~ JOJO ~

Sometimes even the most colorful butterflies in your stomach cannot stop the tears from falling. Me, like the miserable human being I was, had cried myself to sleep last night instead of hopping cheerfully around my room. Jungkook's shut eyes and the serene expression on his face when he'd put his lips on mine had only made me wallow into self-doubt even more than usual. Did he actually mean it or had it just been a reflex, something to pass the time? I felt as if I didn't deserve any of the things he offered me, regardless of his intentions. But fuck, did I want to have him. Fuck. I'd never met a more perfect person with all of those tiny imperfections that actually made him real and whole.

That perfect smile that puts all of his pearly white teeth on display shines bright even know as he notices me entering the shop but I don't fail to detect the eyes that shy away in embarrassment. How cute.

"Hey, " he tries to hold the grin from spreading across his face as he scratches his neck awkwardly.

"Hey yourself, " I reply with forced nonchalance. It doesn't work. I fall under the scrutiny of his eyes as he can tell something's off.

"Your eyes are red, " he states matter of factly.

"Last time I checked they were brown."

His face falls. "Don't give me that shit."

Wow. That kiss had definitely given him some confidence. As far as I remembered, swearing was something he found hard to do unless absolutely necessary. Was I getting to him already?

Preparing to start the work, I click my tongue and move into an arc around his back.  I let the silence fill the empty slots, too tired to come up with some lame excuse when suddenly, the presence of warm fingers greets the skin of my elbow. I look down to see Jungkook's hand on it, eyes brimmed with genuine worry, something I hadn't seen in a long time. "Is everything alright?" he questions and the words alone make the butterflies in my stomach almost turn into pigeons. "You left all of a sudden last night."

The angle on which he bends his neck to level his eyes with mine makes them stand out so adorably, so bright and full of life, I can barely hold a squeal from ripping out of my throat. He was just standing there in all his glory and looking at me like I was the thing he cared about the most. Maybe I was. Did it sound too far-fetched?

I slowly reach up and twirl one of his dark locks on my forefinger, letting it drag to the side of his cheek as I give it a small poke. I hear the breath that hitches on his throat and it only spurs me on even more. "Why? Did you miss me?"

He doesn't back down, eyes boring into mine with an intensity that deserved some recognition. They occasionally flicker down to my lips and I already know what passes through his mind at this moment.

Someone clears their throat.

I immediately put some distance, eyes dragging to the new intruder only to find Kwan staring at us both with a shit-eating grin. He was gonna use this to blackmail us, I was sure about that but I couldn't care less. Not when Jungkook's eyes follow me without failing as I backtrack a few steps.

"He had something in his hair, " I explain with a faint gesture. Kwan's grin grows impossibly larger but he doesn't say anything, deciding instead to grab one of the glasses and wipe it raw, a habit more than out of intention.

I ignore his teasing remarks for the rest of the day and watch Jungkook's prying eyes from the corner of my vision. He'd throw a glance my way with every chance he got and without even being subtle about it. When it's time for our lunch break, his stare becomes so bashful, I can't help but stare back with an offended glare.

"You're doing it again, " he says before I can part my lips.

"Doing what? " I ask.

"Putting a mask on your face. It's funny but it's bullshit."

More swearing. Was it really possible to change someone for the worst with a few words? The last thing I wanted was for him to follow into my steps.

"There's no need to act cool all the time. If you're not okay, you can just say so." His hands fumble with the edges of his lunch box, fingers scraping at it out of nervousness. "You can say it to me, " he adds more softly. " I'll listen."

"Hey, its not that big of a deal, " I wave him off.

"Not that big of a deal?" he mimicks. "You can die."

"So? What's it to you?"

Jungkook sighs deeply. "Jojo—"

"Are you gonna feed me the classic love yourself bullshit?" I interrupt him before he has the chance to say the words I've heard being trumpeted so many times. "Cause there's no need for that. I already love myself. I mean, sure I would jump off a cliff if I could but I love living. I love life to death."

I'm pretty sure that so called mask he mentioned was glowing with pride right now. Even though deep down I knew it felt wrong, I still—

"You do this on purpose, don't you?" I turn my eyes to him only to see a smug expression that looked so foreign and uncharacteristic on his face. "I know what you're doing. You act rude and sassy and uncaring to fend people off so they won't get attached to you because you think your presence alone harms them." He leans forward with his elbows on his knees and his face floats mere inches from mine. "Isn't that right?"

When I don't answer back, his hands cup my knees as he leans so impossibly close that I can count all the dark brown flecks in his eyes. "Hate to break it to you but you can try as much as you want. You're not getting rid of me so easily."

His husky voice brings a smile on my face and I still make no move to put his hands away. "Oh, I can get rid of you. I just don't want to."

~ JUNGKOOK ~

"What do you mean you don't want to? I thought you liked hanging around with me?"

"It's late, Juan."

Jojo grabs the handles of her bike and turns it around in a semi-circle but before she can hop on the seat, I give her hoodie a pull and take over. From the moment I start pedaling, she sighs in exasperation. "Dude, come on, give it back."

"I'm not taking no for an answer, " I quickly reply. "I'm making chicken breasts tonight. Low calorie. You have to come over."

Jojo slowly catches up and we move like that for a while; her walking and me on the bike. It felt strangely relieving to have a moment of peace after a long and exhausting workday. I close my eyes and let the sun rays bask on my face with their warm texture. From the silence that follows, I suppose she's left with no other choice but to give in.

"Watcha thinking about?" I hear her ask after a few moments.

I open my eyes and turn my head towards her. "You."

She snorts. "You've stepped up your game, my man. Glad to see some progress."

"I learned from the best."

"Nah, I'm pretty sure you were already popular with the ladies way before you met me."

The soles of my feet touch the concrete and I force the bike into a halt. "What makes you say that?"

"Well, " Jojo grins, "there's a girl behind us staring at your asscheeks–"

I choke on my spit.

"–and I mean like I can't exactly blame her because your ass is really looking pretty puffed up in that seat–"

"Anywaaaays, " I drag the word long enough to make her stop and proceed to flick my chin on the side. "Let me give you a ride."

Jojo's whole face dismorphs as her lips twist into a barely contained smile. It takes me a while to get the dirty reference. "Oh come on, " I yell out of frustration. "A ride. On a bike. Here on the street. Out in the ope–"

"Yeah, yeah. Just scoot over."

I do as I'm told and not a moment longer, Jojo tries to get comfortable on the back seat. However, I had a better idea. "Hey, why don't you pass to the front?"

Jojo peeks over my shoulder. "No. We'll fall if I do that."

"No, we won't, " I insist. "Just trust me. I'll keep you safe."

I don't know if those words struck a cord within her because she looks genuinely caught off guard with those big sparkly eyes staring at me in earnest. That's where I understood.

Words have power.

I could help her turn things around for the better. I could help her get back to normal. I could do all of these things and more if only she would crack the door of her soul open just an inch to let me in.

"Okay, " she finally answers in a tone much softer than usual. I scoot back and let her sit on the bike's supporting rod.

"Ugh, my ass is gonna be bruised like hell by the time we get there, " Jojo whines and squirms in discomfort.

Chuckling, I give the pedals a push and soon fall into a constant rhythm. Unfortunately for Jojo, it is hard to keep the balance so she is forced to hold onto my shirt. She barely touches it though. "Oh God."

"What?"

"Don't tell me this is one of those cliché supposedly romantic moments where the girl almost falls and they look into each other's eyes and shit like that."

I keep my eyes on the road. "I mean, it's not so dramatic to begin with. We're just chilling. And for the record, we did kiss so I don't see how just looking at each other can be such a big deal."

"Can't believe you pulled that card on me."

"You deserved it, " I reply in a smug tone.

After another moment of comfortable silence, Jojo's arms snake around my waist and the side of her head leans back on my chest. It feels like holding a baby, warming my body up with the presence of blood and life flowing underneath the skin.

For fear of scaring her away, I decide not to add any teasing remarks on why she changed her attitude in a matter of seconds, despite how tempting it was. If that loneliness she constantly felt was reduced even by a fraction, my job was done.

"Are you sleepy?" I carefully ask.

Her arms squeeze me even tighter. When she rubs her cheek affectionately on the front of my shirt, I fight the urge to erupt into giggles. "No, " she answers. "Just tired."

It would only take some time. Just a little bit more time and all her exhaustion would ripple away with no traces in her body or mind. This was my job from now on.

~ JOJO ~

It wasn't exactly his job to nurture me like a newborn baby but I couldn't deny the fact that I liked this new attention. I'd always tried not to feed my narcisstic side too much but it was a pleasant surprise to find out that someone other than Ana acknowledged my existence. These are the thoughts spinning round my head as I stare at the tiny bow of Jungkook's apron tied up at the small of his back. Or at least that's what I was supposed to be looking at because for the past fifteen minutes, my eyes had been trying not to drag down on the voluptuous planes of his ass that stuck painfully tight to the black jeans he was wearing. It's like the sucker was doing it on purpose, keeping his back to me the whole time.

"I really can't blame that girl for staring at you earlier, " I wonder out loud after the uncomfortable silence becomes unbearable. "With jeans that tight, you're asking for it, my man."

Upon hearing the words, Jungkook turns around with a spatula on one hand and a look of confusion on his face. "Isn't that what men usually say to women?"

"Exactly. But there are way less chances for a man to be sexually harassed by a woman, now isn't there? So don't come at me with that equality bullshit."

A small, understanding smile creeps up on the side of Jungkook's lips and in contrast to my words, it really seems genuine. "True. But that still doesn't make it okay." He turns back to flipping the chicken breasts on the pan.

I sigh. "Yeah, alright. Sorry for complimenting your ridiculously gorgeous butt—"

A snort.

"— but I won't hesitate to slap that shit if you piss me off, Juan. And I won't do it in a kinky way."

At that, Jungkook fully turns around, places the fresh meal onto the table and hurriedly  takes a seat. "You're into that sort of thing?"

"Nah, man. I like being normal."

"Normal? You?" Jungkook cocks an eyebrow, the emphasis on the word clearly intentional. I understood that something like that was to be expected from people but it didn't mean it didn't secretly hurt my feelings. Being always ousted as the weird one took a mental toll on you and if you ever tried to blend in, it would only make you stand out more.

I let out a noise of impatience. "Listen, here Juan. I might be sick as fuck but my life doesn't revolve around my disorder. I have favorite hobbies and colors and that kind of shit."

"Is it black?" Jungkook jumps in, suddenly curious.

"Navy blue, but that's not the point."

"I know it isn't." He sighs wistfully.  "Sorry, Jojo. The only reason I said that is because every five seconds you try to assert your dominance so I assumed your preferences on that particular side were a bit...freakish." His expression is halfway between apologetic and entertained and he seems torn between the two.

Curse my dumbass brain for ever acting on impulse.

I scratch the back of my head in discomfort and avert his eyes. "Okay. Okay, I get it. I jumped too fast to conclusions–" I lean my elbow on the table, "–but that's because I'm very athletic."

Jungkook deadpans.

After another uncomfortable silence settles in and after Jungkook realizes he's not getting another word from me, he absentmindedly taps the table with his fingertips. " By the way, same for me, " he mumbles.

"Huh? " I logically reply.

"I have the same preferences as you." He raises his head and looks at me dead in the eye. "Normal."

At this point, I had no idea why we'd decided to reveal our sexual preferences for absolutely no reason but it had come to that. Crazy, right? Me and emo-boy pouring our hearts out to each other...

"So, " Jungkook interrupts my train of thought as he starts chewing on the fresh chicken pieces. "You seem like a competitive person."

"I guess you could say that, " I hum in agreement.

"Well, I have another proposal."

"Like I said, it's too early for me to get married."

The expression he makes as he tries to keep the food from spilling  almost causes me to burst out laughing. Even after he's successfully managed to breathe in some air, the faint traces of a phantom smile are still visible.

"I meant a challenge. For you. A bet, to be more exact. Do you like bets?"

"I do, actually."

"Well then. We'll play a game of tic-tac-toe. The rules are simple. If you win, I'll do everything you want for the rest of the day. Now....if I win....." A devilish grin stretches on one side of his face. "You'll practically do whatever I ask you to. It's the same for both cases."

"What's the catch?"

Jungkook leans back in his chair and links his hands on the back of his head. " There's no catch. I like games, that's all."

The satisfied, confident expression he was wearing made it clear that this was not just a simple game. I was sure as hell he had something up his sleeve but that didn't turn me off nor made me back down. Why not let the guy have his own fair share of fun? However, that didn't mean I couldn't at least give things a little twist.

"Okay, then. Take your shirt off."

This time Jungkook really can't help but choke on his chicken breasts, sputtering pieces of food everywhere. One of them barely misses my face.

"What the fuck! Why?" he screeches, hands wildly attempting to clean the mess.

I slowly drift into a smile. "Relax, pretty boy. We're playing the game on your abs.

~ JOJO ~

"This is stupid."

"You're stupid. Now shut up."

Jungkook gives me one last incredulous look before pulling the shirt completely over his head. In all honesty, the sight was to drool for. That swirling tattoo I'd always caught a glimpse of, is now clearly displayed on one part of his chest and on his left side, reaching up to his neck and down to his hipbone. I try to keep my composure as best as I can but some of my facial expressions must have been on point because Jungkook seems to start feeling uneasy. He shifts his weight from foot to foot and scratches the back of his head. I almost feel bad for lightly snorting but then I think better of it.  After all, I was allowed to have some harmless fun, right? No biggie.

The ridges of Jungkook's magnificent abdominal muscles come into view as he slowly approaches. His posture is a bit stiff, however. The guy was trying his best to suck his stomach in, in hopes of flaunting his slim waist in the most perfect angle.

"Stop flexing, Juan." I say in a monotonous voice. "I already know you're ripped. "

Caught in the act, he shyly smiles and lowers his eyes. "Sorry."

The smile only grows further when I use a marker to draw the lines for the game on his stomach. He squirms and twitches with every flick of my wrist. Apparently, ticklish was another adjective to add onto the dictionary of my names for him.

After a rough sketch is drawn on his tummy, Jungkook gestures for me to make the first move. "Ladies first, " he says with a grin that almost looked pained. His eyes follow my hand that had been finishing the last touches.

I draw an X.

He draws an O.

We move back and forth, exchanging the marker every time, until I realize.

I'm fucked.

He had me cornered in both rows. Wherever I put my next mark, I would still lose. It was an old technique that everyone had used at some point but my dumb ass had fallen right into the trap. But was I really to blame with him looking at me like that?

Jungkook chuckles. "I win."

Fuck. I'm screwed.

"Looks like you're gonna be my servant for the rest of the day. " He throws a careless glance at the windows, pitch dark background already behind them. "Or should I say, night?"

I sit back down on the chair and man-spread in defeat. "Fine. You won. Congratulations. Now what do you want me to do?"

He doesn't even hesitate, his voice as clear as glass. "Kiss me."

I stare at him in disbelief but it didn't seem like there had been a slip of the tongue. He was dead serious with those hooded eyes and the fact that he hadn't even put his shirt back on was for some reason unnerving.

A scoff escapes from me. "Out of all the things you could've asked.... I thought you were gonna make me clean your kitchen or something."

"Oh ,we have plenty of time for that, " Jungkook replies with a newfound smugness.

I mull it over in my head for a second before slowly rising from the chair. He leans forward in anticipation and it's as if his every fiber feels ready to pounce in action.

I honestly found it hard to comprehend the concept behind all of this. Out of all the nice looking girls out there, he found a dirty looking rag called me? Me?!

I give my head a slight shake and reach up with the tips of my toes. I listen to Jungkook's breathing stagger for a moment, only to be released with disappointment when I touch my lips to the side of his cheek, furthest from his two plumps of pink rosy flesh. Jungkook's expression looks slightly annoyed as I pull back, observing the ruins left in my wake.

"That's not exactly what I was thinking, " he laughs to himself, half out of disappointment half out of disbelief.

"You never specified where to kiss you, " I explain.

There had been nothing forcing me to act the way I did. Absolutely no one but myself yet I still felt like something was missing. Like I wasn't enough for him or any other person. My mind kept lying to itself, in the hopes that if I could avoid being too touchy, he probably would forget about me altogether.

Jungkook, bless his soul, gets rid of the awkwardness in a moments's notice, his cheeks puffed up in what resembled a pout. "You played me good, huh?" he huffs and I hold the urge to laugh like a little girl. It felt weirdly cute to see him so worked up over a small rejection when he could make any girl fall in his arms with just a snap of his fingers.

I lower my voice in a mockingly deep baritone. "What are your next orders, my lord?"

Jungkook smiles.

* * *

After that, it's hell hours for me.

It's like he had been waiting for this chance all this time and now that the flood gates were open, he couldn't afford to waste any buckets of water. From cleaning to organizing to heaps and heaps of orders, Jungkook had been vastly generous. And the worst part was that I had to eat my next meal with him and not even dare think about counting calories. He would purposefully mess up the portions and make it impossible for me to calculate. As if I didn't already have a hard time doing that on the daily...

At one point I was even scolded for counting in my head because apparently, the genius had noticed my eyes moving upwards in circular motions as the food lay down in front of me.

In other words I was utterly fucked. The anxiety of not knowing what I was putting inside my body, of having no perception of numbers or weight scared the shit out of me and if it hadn't been for Jungkook's  appreciative glances or encouraging words, I would've said goodbye a long time ago. With him it felt a little less guilty, less of a sacrilege.

"Just don't think about it, " he'd said to me and even though it was one of the most conventional phrases you could think of, coming from him felt different. As if there was an actual purpose behind the words.

"What's next?" I ask in a dead-sounding voice after finishing the rest of the dishes. " A hand-job?"

Jungkook raises his eyebrows in sudden amusement, his expression shamelessly entertained. "As tempting as that sounds, I think I'll settle for a massage for now."

I drag my eyes to his still bare torso and motion for him to lay down on the couch. "Good. 'Cause I wouldn't give you a hand-job even if you threatened to throw me off the balcony."

Jungkook's laugh is muffled by the pillows as he turns his sculpted back to me. "I like how you have no shame."

"Shame is for the weak, " I add.

My fingers work tirelessly on the smooth planes of his skin, pushing and pressing on specific points which I knew would grant him relief. The way he tries to hide satisfied grunts makes me feel light-headed but I bite my tongue and will my creative mind to take it down a notch, focusing on the task at hand. Maybe it was the fact that I hadn't had so much physical contact in a long time. Who knew? It was still an enjoyable sight, what with all the tattoos gracing his beautiful bronze skin in long shapes and lines.

"You're really good at this, " Jungkook grunts after a particularly hard press of my hands on the small of his back, even though to me it sounded more like a moan. He folds his arms at his front and leans his head sideways.

"I am?" I question as a smile already pulls at the corners of my lips.

"Yeah, " he agrees.

"Well, to return the compliment, I really like your tattoos."

Jungkook turns around and lays on his back, staring at me under his long eyelashes. He doesn't utter a single word, just keeps looking at me like he would a statue in a museum, his fringe falling between his eyes but leaving enough space for him to see. My hand is left to linger on the velvety skin of his stomach.

"Most people say they look scary, " he says in a low, raspy voice.

"They're not, " I add and trace a curved black line with the tips of my fingers in reassurance.

Jungkook gently grabs the said hand, still not losing eye contact. "Are you scared of me, Jojo?"

"No. I'm not."

A silence falls in the room, its echo almost deafening but this time there's no discomfort, no weird looks, just the consoling presence of each other that hangs in the air like a halo of light. Then–

"Juan, I think I'm starting to catch feelings for you."

He stops himself from smiling, but it's useless. The smug grin had already made it past his lips. "Yeah, me too."

"Hmmm, " I mutter. "How do we make it stop?"

Jungkook slowly rises in a sitting position, that damned expression still visible on his face. "I don't–  I don't think it's something you can stop."

" Aw shit man, " I scoff.

"Yeah, you just gotta go with the flow."

I'm positive there's a subtle irritated look on my face, which to Jungkook apparently looked hilarious. This had never happened before and I didn't know what exactly to expect. Was it normal? Was I going to be hurt again? What the fuck was I supposed to do?

"You're overthinking it. There's no need to put a name on your feelings." Jungkook cuts like a knife through my jumbled thoughts. "Besides, I thought we were talking about my tattoos."

"Right, " I confirm. " Is there a meaning behind them?"

"No. They're just for aesthetic purposes." The hooded eyes and dark expression is back on his face. "But–" he takes one of my hands and guides it on the side of his torso, "– this one does." He slides it a little further, on the underside of his forearm, tracing what I recognized as a tiger lily. "This one too. I'll tell you about it someday."

His stance is crouched. Even though he's a good feet taller than me, I somehow look towering over him. This position is suggestive enough in itself but it becomes even more so when Jungkook's knees cage around mine. Our eyes now levelling, I drag the line of my vision upwards, refusing to break the eye contact. And then, my eyes focus onto his lips and specifically the tiny little mole under them. It had caught my eye dozens of times before but for some strange reason, right now it looks like it's inviting me. By impulse, I gently meet his lips with mine and surprisingly he doesn't pull back, peppering me back with pouty kisses that are interrupted only by quick pauses for breath. I take the chance and discreetly lick that very mole with the flat of my tongue, feeling his lips' softness with a quick swiping motion.

It's like his gears are put into action. The sweet, gentle Jungkook is utterly forgotten from the moment he slackens his jaw to deepen the kiss, wrestling his own tongue in full force. But then his hands reach up and slip under my sweater to feel the skin underneath and that's all it takes for me to flinch and push him off.

He immediately stops himself from going further and lowers his hands down by his sides. His hooded eyes turn back to alertness as he tries to comprehend what just happened. I feel bad for a moment.

"J—Jojo?" His eyebrows raise in concern. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, I just—" A deep sigh leaves my lips as I try to keep myself from panicking.

He was about to touch my tummy. My fat, squishy tummy. Just the idea of him touching me there gives me chills.

"I remembered something I have to deal with."

I rip myself off from the couch and drag a hand through my hair in distress, about to turn on my heel and get the hell out of here.

"Wait!" Jungkook yells after me and he grabs my forearm. Not harshly, just strong enough not to let me go. "Did I upset you?"

"No. I–"

Calm down. Deep breaths. One, two. One, two.

"I just have to–" I rush with my words, but Jungkook's hands are made of steel, such a stark contrast with his pleading eyes.

"Stay. I'll take care of you. " He's begging me now. " Please."

I give in–

~ JUNGKOOK ~

–but at what cost? She's been acting distant ever since the panicky incident and I don't know what else to do to get her back the way she was. She barely touches me, barely comes close and I wonder if it's a shame to admit that I miss her kisses too. However, the jokester in her has never left. She'll crack dark jokes from time to time, acting like nothing ever happened and I'll pretend to play along for fear of not making her leave.

It pained me to see her like this, to see her crumbling apart day by day while my hands were frozen in place. A soldier stuck on quicksand. Someone had to tell her this was toxic, that she was poisoning herself and was fully conscious of it.

Weeks and weeks under her presence had trained me to notice all the changes, all the little shifts in her demeanor. Today was no exception. At least not with the incident that had made me do things I'd never imagine doing.

It had all started when a new employee had joined us on the coffee shop, courtesy of my boss, whose relationship with him was rather close. It was one of those cases where you had to make favors for the sake of family relations, et cetera, et cetera. So far, so good. But was one really to imagine that the guy had the audacity to act like he owned the place? I tried to ignore his antics up until the moment he fucked with the wrong girl. My girl.

Despite my disapproving glances, Jojo had been making comments on her weight, constantly seeking Kwan's opinions on the matter.

"But I'm fat!" she had exclaimed, exasperated. In Kwan's eyes, this was just another one of her lame jokes but I knew the sting behind the words.

Then, completely out of line, the new employee had chirped. "You're not fat, you're just thick."

I'd whipped my head in his direction and jumped off the table I'd been sitting, my hands suddenly itching but Jojo had been quick to secretly wave me off. "Well then, you're not stupid, you're just dumb, " she 'd snarked, earning a whole-hearted guffaw from Kwan. The joke had been let at that, or at least that's what Jojo thought. My fists hadn't stopped til the itching sensation was satisfied.

"You okay, Jo?" I'd asked at lunch break, the new nickname making her lips barely twitch. She was upset. I could tell.

"Yeah, why?" she'd replied, eyes trained on my face. For once, she'd given me that warm, old look that went beyond friendship. I'd tried to cherish it for a few seconds before adding, "That asshole was rude to you."

I'd unconsciously rubbed my knuckles and that hadn't skipped past Jojo's eyes. "Nah, he's just– wait a second! Did you do something to him?"

I'd adverted her eyes and cleared my throat awkwardly. "I kinda beat the shit out of him." The image of the guy's swollen face and broken nose flashes into my memory.

She'd gasped but there'd been a mix of amazement and incredulousness in the tone of her voice. "That's my job!"

I'd smiled. "No one messes with my Jo."

She'd smiled back but her eyes had still been sad.

Now I ring the bell on her door, impatiently carding my fingers through my hair as it remains shut. Where the fuck is she? She hasn't been answering my calls for a while and I'm worried sick.

I torture the bell button again and slam my palms on the door. "Jojo, are you there? Come on, it's me! Open up!"

What if something had happened to her? What if– I slam my shoulder repeatedly on it and the lock busts open with a loud clang. Rubbing the sore spot, I quickly scan the room and finally, my eyes find her crouched form on the floor.

There's a pile of junk around her, chocolate wrappers, plastic bags, food splayed apart chaotically and vomit on the floor as well as traces of it on the corners of her mouth. Her eyes are fixed in space, staring at nothing. Dried tears have left moist streaks on her cheeks. She looks lifeless until the moment she takes notice of me and does a double take.

"Jungkook? What– what are you doing here?"

I fall down on my knees next to her, worry written all over my face, but she immediately closes in on herself, her body language radiating fear and protectiveness. "No! Go away, please!"

I don't listen, scooting further till my hands are on her arms, trying to find a way in but she only keeps resisting. "No! Please, don't look at me! Not like this!" Her body shakes with convulsions and quiet sobs rip through her throat.

This was the first time I'd seen her cry.

I grab a towel from the kitchen and dip it in the streaming water. Jojo tries to keep me at bay but I set my mouth on a straight line and force it to her lips. Cleaning her eyes, her face as if I wanted to exfoliate her from any traces of sadness. "Please, " she's begging me now. "Please, go."

I keep my hands on a steady pace, gently rubbing the towel where needed. "Shhh, it's okay. It's just some spilled food. You're okay."

She quiets down at the words and it only goades me further. "Shhhh. You're my baby. My baby, " I lift her up and clean the rest of her, whispering other sweet nothings in her ear until at last the storm passes.

~ JOJO ~

There were two options left when someone made comments on my weight. I either starved myself for two full days or binged on everything I could see like a fucking cow because hey, I'm still gonna be fat, right?

Unfortunately for me , I'd picked the easier way out and emptied the contents of my kitchen in the blink of an eye. It was one of the things I hated the most; stuffing myself till I couldn't breathe. However, what I hated even more was people seeing me in my own misery. Even if that person was none other than the dreamy-eyed boy who had cared for me more than anyone ever had.

I stay silent as Jungkook cleans me thoroughly, making sure to also get rid of the mess on the ground and give me enough privacy to slip out of my nasty clothes and brush my teeth. I just keep staring at him and wonder to myself if I had done any good deeds in this life to deserve him. It pissed me off.

"Do you need another pillow?" Jungkook asks under his dark curly fringe, his back crouched as he stands on the side of my bed.

"No, I'm good, " I rasp, my voice strained from bawling for a good couple of hours. I avert his eyes once more. The guilt and the anger keeps bubbling up on the surface.

Jungkook abandons his chair and sits on the bed, his outer thigh barely touching my forearm. The springs creak and whine under his weight. He takes my hand in his, rubbing comforting circles with the tip of his thumb. "You okay, baby?"

I lash out in a second, grabbing the collar of his black T-shirt and pulling it inches from my face. "Call me baby one more time and I'll rip your throat out."

To my surprise, he's not even fazed. A dark chuckle falls under his lips as he grins widely for me to see. Then, as if it couldn't get any more intense than this, he lets himself fall backwards on the bed, taking me along with him. My legs escape the cover of the sheets and straddle his waist, trying not to fall over and crush him. In that particular order. What a typical movie-like moment. I'm wearing pajama shorts and the pale skin of my thighs is completely exposed. As if on cue, Jungkook's eyes flick towards them, drinking in the view. Had he ever seen this much of my body?

"Do it, " he says in a low voice.

I slide one of my hands upward and gently wrap it around his throat. "You really want me to choke you, Juan?"

The bastard doesn't even say anything. He raises the hands laying by his sides and traces the outline of my thighs higher and higher till they settle on each side of my hips. Goosebumps chill my skin like flowers after rain. I'm torn between punching him and kissing him senseless.

"Who knows, I might actually like it, " he says. He hasn't even tried to wriggle out of my caging body, going as far as even baring his throat at me.

I smirk. "Are you always this submissive?"

Uh oh. Wrong move.

In a matter of seconds, I'm pushed backwards, the soft texture of the sheets smoothing the land on my back. Just like that, the positions are completely switched. Jungkook's grin never leaves his face as he's on top of me, his curly locks swinging like a crown on his head. He takes both of my curled fists and pins them on each side of my head.

"I was actually letting you in charge but now that I think about it ; I also deserve to have some fun right?" he states with a smug expression.

For a moment, I'm left speechless. My limbs too, have nothing to say. At least not with the way they're frozen in place, too caught on the spot to dare move.

Jungkook takes the chance and nuzzles his nose on the gap between my neck and jawline. On another situation I would have felt ticklish but not right now. A heavy weight on the pit of my stomach is proof enough for that. He starts leaving small pecks on the skin of my throat, making a beeline for the collarbones.

I honestly don't know what to do with myself. We've been playing around for a long time now but things have never gotten so serious. Not at this point. Only recently had I pushed him off and now here I was, the one turned into full submission.

"Do you plan on ruining yourself every time someone upsets you?" he mumbles, smooth lips barely grazing against my skin.

The image of that new guy flashes behind my eyes and my face sours, all those butterflies in my stomach crushed to dust, just like that. "Can we talk about something else?"

Jungkook pauses his administrations and pulls back just an inch, his eyes staring at mine in full concentration. "No."

I huff in frustration. "You're on top of me."

"So?" he raises one eyebrow.

"So, get the hell off!"

My wrists are suddenly pinned harder against the sheets, Jungkook's hands forcing them further down until they form little dips.

"No, " he repeats, almost mechanically.

I'm about to protest again when his tongue swipes at the vulnerable skin of my throat and that's all it takes to throw all caution to the wind. My back arches off the bed without my permission and I think I must've let out a sound because Jungkook is laughing that quiet laugh of his that makes his shoulders shake.

His lips are on mine, silencing whatever literate thought that tries to make it out. My hips are now straddled by his own knees and oh- my wrists are free because he lets them go gently and puts his hands on my cheeks, kissing me even more deeply, threading them through my hair and its suddenly too much, too much for me to handle.

I feel like I'm floating ten thousand feet off the ground and buried under layers and layers of earth at the same time. My breath shudders violently when his lips drag across the side of my face and nudge the sweet spot below my ear.

"Why are you doing this to me?" I whisper but it comes out so broken, so desperate. I'm practically begging at this point and I don't even know why.

Jungkook's hands settle on my clothed waist. His fingertips twitch in hesitation as he bunches the fabric and just like that–

"I'm sorry, "

–and lets go.

I feel relieved and disappointed.

His body peels off my own with reluctance that rips me apart in a million different ways and I feel my skin grow cold from his absence. He leans back on the heels of his hands, staring me down with an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, " he repeats and rises from the bed, disappearing into the living room.

* * *

I lay there for a while, staring at the ceiling as if it held the secrets of the universe. My body has not even moved an inch, too shocked, too frozen. My legs feel like lead, two slabs of heavy stone that pin me into place.

If it weren't for Jungkook's presence snapping me out of my empty reverie, I would've probably stood there like a dead body for days. He comes back (from the bathroom, apparently) his wet hair still trickling droplets of water on his shirt, eyebrows shining, and stands on the middle of the room.

"It's midnight, " he says, as if in a trance.

My eyes flick to the window. Pitch black. Indeed.

"Can I stay here tonight?" he continues, and I can swear the tips of his ears go spicy red. My heart melts into a hot buttery mass. He's blushing like crazy. I can see it! A guy, blushing in front of me. I suddenly can't contain my smile, all things forgotten in a blur.

"Yeah. I would like that, " I breathe.

He locks eyes with me and breaks the contact almost immediately, looking anywhere but in my direction.  "I can take the couch–"

"No. Sleep here, " I say and my eyes close of their own accord. "With me,  " I slowly add.

"Are you sur–"

My eyes fly open. "We just made out five seconds ago. Why is that such a problem now?" I lift my neck just an inch, to glare at him but there's no real malice in it.

His lips crack into a smile and I'm glad for the tension that dissipates like cigarette smoke. "I sleep without a shirt on, " he confesses.

"Okay."

He slips it off his torso in a swift motion but it's too dark me for me to make out any details expect for his dark silhouette and the wide planes of his shoulders.

"You can take off anything you want. I won't touch you, " I say and roll over on my side of the bed.

"I wouldn't mind it, " I hear him mumble but he complies, the sound of his belt unbuckling echoing against the room.

The bed dips under his weight as he occupies its other side and I feel more than hear the fall and rise of his chest, the labored breathing coming to a steady rhythm.

Two strong hands clasp around my waist and I'm pulled backwards into his chest. I don't push him off. I let him hold me to himself, caged by his body, by the feeling of him; his bare chest, his bare legs, his long hair tickling the back of my neck.

Everything is going to be okay.

I'm okay.

"Jojo?"

"Hm?"

"Do you care about me?"

I smile. " More than I'd like to admit."

He kisses the nape of my neck and pulls me harder against himself. It's not long before sweet, calm sleep sneaks its way into into our bodies.

~ JUNGKOOK ~

It's not the sun the one that wakes me up, despite it having been up for a while, not even the sound of the cars honking in the distance. It's the gentle caress of skin on skin, making goosebumps rise and my eyelids flutter.

I slowly crack one eye open and the smile that blooms on my face is automatic. Jojo's cuddled up on her side right next to me, her head laying between my chest and shoulder, arms splayed out to hug my torso like a teddy bear. But what really does it for me is her left leg thrown across my side. She keeps moving in her sleep and it's doing things to me. I can't breathe.

I suddenly realize that I'm only wearing my boxers. Nothing else.

Oh God.

I lift a shaky hand and try to detach her leg but my fingers linger for too long and she suddenly stirs. Her lips nudge my chest and unconsciously give the latter a tender kiss. Her eyes slowly open. For a moment it looks like she doesn't know where she is but then the realization dawns on her.

"Good morning."

Shit.

Her raspy voice only makes it harder for me to keep myself collected.

"Morning, " I manage.

She sits up and drags a hand through her hair, frustrated. "Why is your nice body the first thing I see? I'm jealous, " she huffs.

I open and close my mouth like a fish, caught on the spot. I'd never thought of my body as particularly nice. "It does its job so yeah, I guess, " I admit aloud.

At that her eyes drag down to a very unholy spot in between my legs. She smirks. " Oh, it does its job, alright. I think you have some problems with morning wood, my boy."

I grab the sheets on the side and swing them over my legs, embarrassment setting my face aflame.

She bursts out laughing. "Relax. It's not like I've never seen a guy with no pants before. Though, I'm kinda disappointed. I was expecting for you to have Lighting Mcqueen patterns on your underwear. " She shakes her head mockingly. "They're so plain."

I uncover my legs once again and this time I don't care. Let her see whatever she wants.

She stops laughing. Gives another glance to the crime scene. Gulps. "Yeah, like I said. Plain."

This whole exchange is so entertaining, I feel my insides flutter with joy. Last night's episode is forgotten in a ditch with no problem. We're back to the old times.

I get up and pace around the room, in search of a glass of water. My throat is parched.

"You know what? Go take a cold shower. All that–" she gestures toward my middle with a wave of her hand, "– is distracting me."

I stop pacing. "You know what? I'll put some pants on if you put some food on your stomach. That's a fair deal."

The color completely drains from her face, replaced by a dark expression that seeps the life out of it. Regret weighs me down.

"I'm never eating again, " she says, while her eyes bore holes into the floor. " Not until I reach my goal weight."

I  drag a hand across my face and rub it. Hard. My sanity is on the brink of falling apart. "Then what are you gonna do?" I ask, frustration finally creeping on my voice. "When you get to your goal weight."

She shrugs. "I'm just gonna keep being unhappy, I guess."

It's the way she puts the words out there so easily that draws the line for me. So carelessly, like I mean nothing to her. Like she means nothing to herself.

"This is ridiculous. You know you're harming yourself and you still keep doing it. You know you're not gonna change anything in the end and you still keep doing it. I don't get it."

"Oh yeah?" she spits, her own voice full of poisonous venom. "Why do you keep living if you know you're gonna die one day? Huh, Juan? Why do you do it?"

"This is killing you!"

"I don't care!"

I flinch. It takes me a while to gather myself before I muster the strength to spell out the next few words. "I don't even know why I care about you when you don't even care about yourself."

Her lips curl into a half smile but it doesn't exactly reach her eyes.

"You're right, " she says. "I don't."

Silence.

"Maybe you should go now."

I look up into her face but she's not looking at me, too focused on a spot on the wall. She's telling me to leave. To get the hell out of here. I'm suddenly realizing the absurdity of all this —me shirtless and half nude, boxers stuck to my body like gauze, having a fight with the girl I love with all my heart. I realize the enormity of it. Of how much I love her, of how much I'm hurt by seeing her hurt and I choose to leave.

I pick up my pants from where they lay carelessly on the floor and put them on in excruciating slow movements. I grab the belt and the T-shirt and make my way out of the apartment. Her eyes never leave that spot.

I shut the door behind me and lean my head on its cool ugly surface.

What an ugly mustard -yellow door.

" Jojo, don't do this, " I say, loud enough for her to hear. "Come on, please."

No answer.

The anger falls off me in waves I can't control, swallowing me whole until my eyes see black. I kick the door so hard, my leg grows limp. Another punch and I think I've cracked the wood but I don't care. I don't give a shit. I scream and slam my fists and palms like a madman throwing a tantrum.

"Dammit! Why do you keep doing this?! Stop it, damn you! You're hurting yourself for fuck's sake!"

"You're hurting me, " I add in nothing more than a whisper, my voice already hoarse.

The door never opens.

~ JOJO ~

The door opens easily with just a push of my fingertips. I try to look uninterested but my restless eyeballs betray me in an instant, scanning the coffee shop in all four directions within seconds. I'd spent the whole night spacing out while sitting at the foot of my bed on the floor. I'd never felt so much regret, so much of it that it had felt like I was drowning–

"He's not here." A voice startles me out of my thoughts and I turn around to find Kwan looking at me with something that looks similar to pity.

I blink. "What?"

"Jungkook, " he explains. " He's gone."

My heart falls into the bottom of my feet and I suddenly can't keep the panic from tainting my voice. I grip Kwan's shoulders. "Where?"

"Woah, calm down! I think he's gone to his parents or something. Boss already gave him permission."

My grip loosens. "Oh."

Kwan blanches but soon a look of genuine concern flashes behind his eyes. "What's the matter? Did you two get into a fight?"

"No, " I deny.

I can faintly make out Kwan's rambling but it sounds so, so far away because soon my ears are thundering.

he's gone he's gone he's gone he's gone he's gone he's gone–

"Jojo."

I'm shook awake, courtesy of my man-handler. He looks truly worried but I just can't seem to care. All I know is that I need to get out, distract myself, do something–

The indecisive old bitch lady steps foot into the shop and I curse her existence and mine altogether. This is so not the time to be arguing over extra menus.

She takes her usual seat with an excessive amount of unnecessary grace and looks at me pointedly, waiting to be tended to.

I smile. "Welcome, Mrs. Park."

* * *

Everything feels empty, blurred around  the edges.

Meaningless.

I finally realize how important purpose is and how everything we do is driven by it.

Lately I've been walking in circles, wandering like a fly trapped inside a jar, not knowing where I am or what I'm doing.

I'm just there.

I never eat anymore. I never drink. I savor my body like an untouched temple and hope against hope that I'll get better.

It's okay if I'm not. I can't make the difference anymore, anyway. I've spiraled into the bottomless pit of oblivion and the process is slow. It makes me feel numb.

I stare at the rumpled apron laying on the floor along with the rest of the garbage and Ms. Park comes into mind. She hadn't really appreciated my spilling hot tea right onto her chest. The dumb bitch had gotten me fired but it doesn't really feel like a great loss. I'd only worked there because of him, anyway. Him and only him. I never cared about anyone else. But he's not here. He'll never be here anymore.

I fish my phone out of my pocket and make use of the sudden memory to type down his number. I have it memorized by now. The line beeps.

"Hey."

My heartbeat spikes in excitement. "Hey yourself," I reply hastily but my voice cords haven't been used for days, so it sounds more like a rasp. I clear my throat.

"How's it going?" he asks. Casually. Like he would a friend. I missed hearing his voice.

"Good. You?"

"Same."

I bite my lower lip anxiously. I don't like his answers. I don't like how short and clipped they are. Clipped. Nipped. Chipped. Ripped. Zipped–

"So, the guys have been wondering when you'll be back, " I lie.

I hear him release a subtle sigh. "Oh. I don't really know, honestly. I've been hanging out with my parents and they plan on keeping me here for a while longer."

I nod my head slowly then remind myself he can't see me. "Right. Right, you must've missed them."

White noise.

Hmmm.

What else rhymes with noise?

Choice.

Boys

Toys

Turqoise–

"Well, have fun."

"Thanks......um, are you oka–"

I end the call.

he's gone he's gone he's gone he's gone he's gone he's gone he's gone–

i told you he doesn't give a shit

"I never said I did, " I reply without looking.

you hoped, though

"Shut up."

laughter

you do realize you're pathetic, right?

I turn my head to the mirror. "Shut the fuck up, you fucking bitch! Shut it!"

I spit and throw whatever I can get my hands on it but there's a smile there that I just can't see.

what rhymes with smile?

aisle

bile

rile

guile

worthwhile–

I scream and yell. I rip the sheets of the bed, swipe off the contents of my desk, punch and punch the mirror till my hands are raw and bleeding a waterfall. I kick and thrash with every ounce of strength left in me but there's no use.

She's still smiling at me.

* * *

I'm sitting down on the floor, surrounded by a pool of my own insanity. I can't tell how many days have passed and my cheeks feel surprisingly moist. Have I been crying?

There's no one else around here.

It doesn't matter. I like being alone.

It feels nice to just be with your own thoughts, not having to fear being overheard when you scream ideas and screenplays in your room. You can just be yourself and enjoy doing the things you like the most. But still, sometimes it gets really lonely and not just in the literal sense. I'll always check the dark corners to see if someone's there, I'll always feel like someone's whispering, saying bad things about me, that coat hanged on the rack will always look like a person and then I'll even start getting scared of my own shadow, my head will always shake uncontrollably when I'm crying because there won't be anyone to hold it for me, anyone to assure me that things are gonna be okay.

I don't like being alone. It's not nice.

I glance at the broken mirror, bloody cracks and lines making up the whole of it. There's only one spot in the corner that remains clean and untouched. A smile attached to it.

I realize now. Why she wouldn't go away. The reason why I could never win this war was because the enemy I was fighting against was none other than myself. She was no stranger. She was me. No matter how much we tried, me and my own  resemblance would still be standing at the end of the day. If i was alive, she was alive. It was like a symbiotic relationship, a Yin to the Yang. We kept each other afloat and neither could exist without the other.

he's happy.

"I know, "

without you

"I know, " I repeat.

is that enough proof for you?

"It is."

then do it

"yes."

I rise from the floor and blindly look for my phone in the midst of all the trash. It's nowhere to be found. I then turn around and grab hold of the old telephone hanging on the wall. It stands out, an ancient relic hard to be found these days. I roll the numbers by memory. The line crackles for a couple of seconds before a familiar voice breathes into it. My chest constricts as I let out a pathetic whimper. "J– Jungkook... I'm sorry."

I don't give him time to answer, slamming the phone down with a loud ring.

it's over it's over it's over it's over i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry

Big, fat tears trickle down my cheeks and chin and I do nothing to stop them. I whimper and whine as I head for the bathroom, reaching up with my toes to get the pills I'd hidden all these weeks. They're still here.

Waiting for me.

~ JUNGKOOK ~

I'm running as hard as my legs can take me but it's not really me doing it. It's my impulses being triggered with full force, struggling for survival. I'm completely detached from my body, my mind going through only one simple rule : I have to make it on time.

I don't even notice the heavy torrents of rain blurring my vision, making my feet trudge with difficulty. I don't even notice the people I push harshly out of my way or the red stoplights blinking past me. My eyes are focused inwardly like a camera, set on breaking through the sea of umbrellas.

please please please please

I repeat the word like a mantra in my head, praying against whatever odds that she will be okay when I get there, that she won't do what I think she intends to do.

please please please just not that anything but that please make her be alright

If only I could've hurried earlier, she wouldn't have had the chance to say those things. To say my name.

It was the first time she'd said my name. My actual name. Those few seconds hearing the syllables tumbling from her lips had been pure bliss to my ears, only to be ripped apart with the realization that she was pleading.

She doesn't answer the phone. I curse myself to hell and back. I should've told her I was coming today. I should've told her I was only two blocks away from her apartment and that all this time far from her had been nothing but torture. There hadn't been a moment when I didn't feel her absence or when I didn't wonder what she was doing. I should've told her I regretted every single word I'd sa-

Something slams against my arm. I fall onto the rough asphalt but I'm on my feet in seconds. The man I'd run into stares at me in anger but I can't  deal with his shit right now, so I push him blindly, my feet already finding their footing. "Out of my fucking way!" I yell at him without looking.

I run and run and run until I can't feel my calves and my jacket is soaked through.

Drip

Drip

Drip

please don't die

drip

Her apartment building zooms into view. I punch buttons and take the stairs by four.

please

stay alive

please

Mustard yellow door.

I don't wait to check if it's open, kicking the lock open immediately.

Things happen in a blur, straight out of a dream. I kneel to the ground, forcing her mouth open. Her tear-stained face spits the pills reluctantly and then she tries to push me off as hard as she can. I knew she'd do this. I just knew it. I had seen the pills standing on the drawer for days, weeks. I knew how she gave those bruises to her body, how she tortured herself by her own will.

"NO! GET THE FUCK OFF OF ME!"  I hold her hands down and bend them behind her back but she keeps screaming and it's like all hell has broken loose. "FUCK OUT OF HERE! YOU HAVE NO RIGHT!"

I squeeze her hands tighter and I can suddenly hear myself crying, fully sobbing my heart out and then she's crying too and we're both sitting on the floor like two poor beggars with our limbs awkwardly splayed out.

"That's my decision, Jungkook.  You can't take that away from me, " her muffled whimpers are heard as I lean her head on the crook of my neck.

I release her hands, which soon find their way around my neck, hugging my body till we fit perfectly together.

"Jojo."

I pull back just a few inches, capture her face with my palms and kiss her like there's no tomorrow.

~ JOJO ~

Do you know that feeling of finally getting home after a long trip, of how your body relaxes upon finding its lost familiarity? That's exactly what courses through my body right now, except that it's multiplied tenfold, to the point of numbness. I'd missed sensing his body beside mine. I'd missed his dark locks tickling my neck, his soft lips, but more than everything, I'd missed having him here. With me.

It's hard to believe the number of things that have happened today. It feels like I'm watching the scene unfold in front of me like a spectator and wonder if it's just a figment of my imagination. And the way he is kissing me..... It feels brand new. Desperate in more ways than one. He morphs our lips together as if they are made of clay and his hands start feeling around my body, begging for some purchase.

I don't realize the fact that I have started crying. Silent tears tumble down my cheeks, wetting his own face with their saltiness. I can't control them. I can't stop them. And Jungkook understands that. He pulls roughly at my bottom lip and suddenly lets go, creating a gap between our bodies. I can't help but feel that I must look like a little child in his eyes right now; grubby, disheveled, teary-eyed...

And then he's looking at me dead in the eye, beyond my appearance, beyond my outer core, cutting through weeds and vines growing inside my soul. "I know none of the things I say will ever convince you. So, I won't be using any words."

He slips my left sleeve from my shoulder, exposing the skin underneath. His head lowers down to it and gives it a feather-light kiss.

I stare at him in confusion but he chooses to keep silent. His eyes never leave my face, even when he starts repeating the action with my other sleeve, rolling my whole shirt up and off my body. He discards each piece with surprising gentleness and that's what makes my tears fall even more violently. He's so kind.

So good to me.

And he's taking off my pants.

I instinctively tense and Jungkook makes an obvious pause, letting me make my choice. The rigidity dwindles away and a flash of relief passes behind his eyes. I close my eyes and then he moves on with his graceful touches. I'm lain down into the bed, my hair fanned out behind me like a halo, and he slowly crawls on top, observing his work of art with a look of genuine satisfaction.  His clothes are gone before I can blink and he slowly dives in for the sensitive part of my neck, breathing it in.

"Beautiful," he mumbles against my throat. My body convulses with whimpers. He nuzzles his way up until his lips are meshed against mine.  "Touch me, " he whispers.

My breath hitches but I raise my hands that had so far lain on my sides and put them on each side of his face. "Jungkook."

He smiles and my heart bursts into a million fireflies. "I like it when you say my name."

"Jungkook,"  I repeat.

He drags those sinful lips down through valleys and crevices, leaving soft kisses in their wake, tracing every inch of my skin, tracing every bruise, every wound, every trace of self-harm. I am nothing more than a hot pool of lava. I do not own a body anymore. Or rather, I feel each sensation being magnified into infinity and I can no longer tell where my body starts nor where it ends. I feel too much. I feel everything. And I am not ashamed of this mundane mass of flesh and bones and blood.

I kiss back.

That's all it takes for him to finally let himself go freely. No obstacles. No barriers. I am free of the voices in my head, free of my fears and judgment.  It's like we want to devour each other, drain every single drop until it is the only thing our tongues can taste. I don't really care about anything else right now. I wanna forget about it all and just focus on the soft texture of his lips ghosting the skin on my neck and then going stronger and wilder and swallowing it up till I can feel the delicious sting of pain. We fight. We love. We pour our hearts out like a warm waterfall. And as our bodies tangle restlessly with each other, sticky with sweat, I go through an indescribable ecstasy. Something I've never experienced before.

Acceptance.

_____________________

EPILOGUE

I'd never imagine the storm would go on all night but it somehow did. As I lay in my bed, feet tangled up with someone else's, I hear the distant rumble of faraway clouds first thing in the morning. If it weren't for my daily habit of waking up early, I wouldn't have even bothered cracking my eyes open. The sun remains hidden in some corner as the dark gray sky salutes me instead.

I like it. This mood. It's cozy and warm and safe .

I turn my head on the side and almost melt. He's sleeping like a baby. Eyelids relaxed, lips slightly open, an angelic expression on his face. Pretty.

"That's bold, coming from you, " his lips spell.

I lightly gasp as I realize I've said the word out loud. "I thought you were asleep." As if by instinct, my hand slides up into his face, gently caressing it.

Jungkook grabs my whole arm and pulls me towards him, giving the edge of my jaw a kiss. "I was kinda faking it."

I kick his butt with the sole of my foot. "You prick! Stop playing!"

The whole bed shakes from his laughter as he massages his poor backside. "Did you sleep well?" he asks.

I smile. "Mhmm."

Jungkook mirrors my expression, but it somehow looks more devilish on him. "I'm sure you did."

"Shut up, Jungkook."

He smiles again, genuinely this time and turns, facing the ceiling with his eyes closed. "I really like it when you say my name."

"Jungkook," I whisper. A pause. "Jeon Jungkook."

His eyes open. "Yes?"

"You know, the night before I met you, I was about to kill myself."

His body goes rigid, but I continue. " I don't know why I didn't do it. Then, the next day I met you and it was like it just slipped my mind. The thought was no longer there.  So I came at that coffee shop every day, hoping I could see you. You weren't some kind of prince charming or anything. It's not like I looked at you and knew we were meant for each other or that kind of bullshit. I just liked looking at you. One glimpse was enough. It made me feel better somehow. It felt.... nice. But the moment we stopped looking at each other it all came flooding back. That longing to die. I turned back to my starting point."

Jungkook's arms envelop me and I feel my bones shatter. "I'm sorry," I whisper, barely a breath.

He caresses my bare shoulder. "There's nothing to be sorry about. It's okay now. I'm here. It's over."

I throw my arms around his neck and hug him tightly. "Don't leave."

"I won't."

We stay like that for a while, holding each other in our arms and relishing the sweet silence of early morning. Until-

"Hey Jungkook, you know how you're hot and cute at the same time?"

"Don't do it, Jojo. I'm telling you, don't-"

"Hute."

My obnoxious laughter annoys the hell out of him, but he eventually joins me.  I smile to myself.

The old back me is me but more different than ever. I want to go through a deep cleansing. I want to throw away all the trash that has been accumulating in my house and my very soul.

A new person.

A new life.

A new me.

I can't promise I' ll make it in the end but I can promise I'll try.

"You know, " Jungkook says, "you turned out to be much more different than I thought you'd be."

I turn his face to him. "Did I meet your expectations?"

He smiles. "No. You exceeded them."

[melon-wing]

The Kissing Challenge Part 5/8

Before I start, let me say how sorry I am that this chapter took so long. I received some bad news while I was working on it. Threw me kinda out of the story. I’ll try to make the next waiting time a little less long. Thank you all for your patience!

~~~~~~~~~~~~

[PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4]

Grian landed on the peak of a mountain wearing some sort of mask and looked down at his own building. It was a little strange and he had no clue why Doc and Bdubs had been so adamant on buying it at the end of last season only to have to rebuild it block by block in this world.

But he had to admit it looked kind of funny with the fence in the middle, being split apart. He carefully climbed down the mountain and searched for any movement, but nobody appeared to be around. He would be gone in a second, he just needed to trade with Doc’s villagers. Sure, he could have asked, but Doc would have wanted payment and he was getting a little short on diamonds at the moment. And Doc would not even notice anything amiss until it was too late and Grian would be gone by then.

As he crept down the mountain and reached the front lawn he noticed movement behind the house and sure enough, Doc was busy building something in the back. Well that made his plan a little more risky, but not impossible. Grian stayed hidden behind a few chests for a while, but Doc seemed to be fully immersed into his work. And he knew Doc good enough by now. If that guy was busy working on something it was almost as if he was in a different world. There would be no better time than now to pull off his plan.

He slipped through the iron doors and was welcomed by wild mumbling. Those villagers had always been way too noisy. The only good thing was, that they were constantly talking, so any noise he might make should go unnoticed. Now for the trading…

Grian put down a few Shulkerboxes, glancing at the door one last time before getting his first items out. Not a second later he was swarmed by a villagers, all holding up emeralds to trade with him. And trading he did. He pulled out one item after the other, storing the emeralds in his chest, looking at the growing number with a satisfied grin. He was just getting out the last stack of paper to trade for emeralds, when he felt hot breath ghosting over his neck, making him freeze up.

“Nobody touches my villagers”, a low and threatening voice whispered into his ear. He startled and turned around so fast he almost fell down.

Doc was standing right there, one eyebrow raised and just staring at him. Damn, with all the villagers talking he’d never heard the sound of the iron door. And he had been so close to finishing and getting away without being discovered. How was he supposed to talk his way out of this? He had been caught red handed after all.

“So Grian… I think a little payment is due. I can’t trade with them today after all. Or rather a little punishment. You wouldn’t want to start another Civil War now, would you?”

Grian swallowed and shook his head. He always felt so nervous around Doc. They had been on opposing teams constantly last season after all.

“Yeah, thought so. Now what can you offer me? How should we proceed?” Doc’s voice was still dangerously low and he was looking at him with a calculating grin.

“I could… Give you half the Emeralds I just got?”, he suggested slowly, but soon caved in when Doc shook his head. “Or you can have all of them. I don’t really need them that badly. You can have them.” Doc was still silently watching him and each second that went by without any answer made him even more nervous. Of all the Hermits only Doc had that affect on him. “Alright. Name your price. What can I pay to make it up? I got like… 15 diamonds left.”

And finally Doc decided to break his silence. “That’s a nice start. I’ll take those 15 diamonds… Oh and I’ll also take you.”

Grian’s eyes widened and he blushed at the last demand. He didn’t even know what Doc meant by that but his mind was already working in overdrive. His brain conjuring up images he’d never ever forget.

Doc chuckled, clearly amused by his state. “You’d think, someone running around the server kissing people would be a little less innocent. It’s nice to know you haven’t changed.”

“So you just said that to tease me?”, Grian whined, crossing his arms in front of his chest, feeling a little vulnerable under Doc’s intense stare.

“Oh no. I meant what I said. I’ll take you…”, he paused for a second, walking up to Grian and putting one of his fingers underneath Grian’s chin, so he was forced to look up at Doc, “on as a personal assistant for the prank I planned on good old Bdubs.”

“Oh…”

“Well what were you thinking? Expected me to do some dirty things to poor innocent Grian? I think Mumbo would kill me if I laid a finger on you.”

“Mumbo’s not my dad”, Grian grumbled, not even trying to deny that Doc was right about the other part. He needed to change the topic and he needed to change it fast, before he could be teased any more. “So a prank on your neighbour, right? Got anything in mind or do I have to plan it as well?”

“I got a little plan. I just needed someone to play a part in it. You happened to drop by at the right moment. I already prepared everything. You just need to lure Bdubs into my trap. He wouldn’t trust me enough to follow any instructions. And while everyone knows you are a prankster, you haven’t interacted with him enough to raise suspicion.”

~

Half an hour later, Grian regretted everything that had led him up to this moment in his life. “Is this really necessary for your big plan or are you just doing it to punish me?”

“Both. It is the best way to get his attention I think… And I also enjoy seeing you like that.” Doc chuckled darkly, looking Grian up and down. Grian was wearing a red and white dress that Doc had told him was apparently called a ‘Dirndl’. He also wore matching High Heels and bright red lipstick. Doc had even put a flower crown on Grian’s head that reminded him a little of his time as a Hippie.

Grian felt his face light up almost as bright as the dress he was wearing. Sure, he had worn a dress before when he dressed up to do an advert for Sahara. But this? This wasn’t what he had in mind when he left his base today.

“I hate you...”

Doc only laughed with his deep rumbling voice, giving Grian a few pats on the shoulder.

“You’ll do fine. Just, you know… Go over there and lure him into the trap and that’s that.”

Grian sighed in annoyance.

“Yeah. I get that. But why the hell am I wearing this freaking dress and those heels? Like it is obvious it’s me. I can’t pretend I’m anyone else. He’ll know as soon as he sees me.”

“Sure,” Doc just shrugged, “But that’s not the point. The point is to get his attention and to make him curious, you know. Bdubs can’t resist. And I enjoy seeing you suffer like that.”

Grian groaned, throwing one last dirty look at Doc before walking around the fence to Bdubs’ side of the house. He regretted the moment he had decided to sneak onto Doc’s property. He really shouldn’t have done that. But it was too late now and he would have to suffer the consequences.

Bdubs was lying at the side of his little pool on a chair, sun glasses on, simply relaxing. He hadn’t noticed Grian yet, despite the noises his shoes must have made.

Alright. He could do this. Sure, it was ridiculous, but he’d show Doc. If he looked like he felt uncomfortable, Doc would be even happier. So he would just rock this.

Without hesitation Grian swung one leg over Bdubs and just sat down on his waist, legs spread, putting his hands onto the other’s chest.

“Hey there, pretty.”

Grian could feel the way Bdubs startled, trying to jump up, but unable to do so because of the added weight on his lap. So he settled for simply sitting up, which only put him closer to Grian.

“Wha- What? Grian, dude? What’s going on?”

Grian grinned, raising one hand to caress Bdubs cheek, looking at him from bellow his eyelashes.

“Well, you know… I was just passing by and couldn’t resist such a good looking man...”

Bdubs looked utterly confused and Grian really couldn’t blame him for it. Weird things tended to happen quiet often when the Hermits were concerned, but that didn’t make them any less weird. And Grian walking around in a dress making his moves on someone? That was definitely not a common occurrence.

Grian slowly leaned forward, his breath already ghosting over Bdubs lips.

“We could have a little fun, if you are interested. Go somewhere nice and cosy. Just me and you.”, Grian whispered, before he leaned in for the kiss.

And then he looked at Bdubs, blinking a few times in confusion. His lips had only met a book that Bdubs had held up right between them.

“What is Doc planning this time?”, Bdubs voice came from the other side of the book and Grian’s eyes widened even more before he laughed nervously.

“Why would you think Doc has anything to do with it?”

Bdubs raised an eyebrow, looking at Grian as if he had just asked him why water was wet. “I’ve been his neighbour for a while. I know how he ticks. I mean, I heard you were running around kissing people lately, but this? This is a little over the top for that little game. I also saw you sneaking around Doc’s side of the fence about an hour ago. I might pretend to be stupid sometimes, but I can put two and two together. So what does he want you to do? Seduce me?” Bdubs snorted in amusement at his own question and slowly lowered the book still between them, his eyes looking Grian up and down. “No offence, but I don’t really swing that way, even if you are looking really pretty in that dress. And Doc should know that.”

Grian groaned. This wasn’t working out the way he had planned. Not at all. And he didn’t even want to think what else Doc had in store for him as a punishment now that this stupid plan had failed.

“Okay, okay. You got me. You are right. Doc wants me to lure you into his trap. I don’t know much about it. I guess it will probably end with you respawning in your bed though.”, Grian replied after a little hesitation. Surely Doc wouldn’t hear him. He was already at their agreed rendezvous point

"So you are helping him because...?" Bdubs looked at him in mild curiosity, eyes drifting over the dress once more. "Just for fun? Or does Doc have some dirt on you? I know he likes to collect dirt to get people to agree to his plans, the nasty goat."

"I broke into his villager trader..."

Bdubs laughed, a loud bellowing laugh that made Grian want to pout. He didn't enjoy being laughed at, especially not in the get up he was in right now. This was already embarrassing enough as it was.

"Not funny...", he murmured, holding up his hand and flicking Bdubs forehead softly.

"Well, it is kind of funny, you've got to admit. And rather interesting", Bdubs replied and Grian shuddered as he could feel a hand caressing his back, slowly wandering down, but just stopping above his butt. "I've been trading with his villagers as well. I bet I stole far more than you by now, but he never put me into make-up and a little dress. Not that I would look as good in it as you, but I think you need to consider that he's telling you something by that."

"Like what? That I look like a girl?" Grian snorted and rolled his eyes. He knew he was slender and not that tall and maybe had soft features, but he would not really pass as a girl and to call him girly would really be a far stretch.

"No. More like, he thinks you look hot."

Grian’s brain seemed to short circuit at that. He could feel heat rising to his face, sputtering a few times, unable to form words. The thought that Doc – stoic, cold, emotionless Doc could look at him and feel any sort of thing was unbelievable.

"Listen, Grian. I've been his neighbour for a while now. And we don't exactly have walls thanks to splitting this mansion down the middle. I have a pretty good view of his bedroom. And boys like you? Well considering who he had in his bedroom so far I'd say you'd fit right in to that. And I guess he's pretty good going by the sounds his partners make. So if you are interested in some no-strings-attached sex, I'd say go for it." Bdubs had a broad grin on his face and even though his tone was teasing, he sounded like he was telling the truth.

Grian glanced over his shoulder at the other half of the mansion. Above the fence he could see Doc's rather pink bedroom. An image popped into his mind of himself lying on top of that bed. Doc looming above him, looking down with that unreadable stoic expression of his. Would he like that? It had been a while since he had gotten some action – besides kissing that is. Maybe... Maybe having some fun would be a nice change of pace. Make him lose some of the stress that came with starting so many projects at the beginning of a new world.

His train of thought was interrupted by Bdubs laughing and Grian's head snapped back around.

"You are thinking about it, so it's probably already a done deal. Let's go then. You shouldn't leave Doc waiting. His ego couldn't bare it."

"Go...?", Grian echoed, looking at Bdubs in confusion. Hadn't he already said, that Doc was waiting with a deadly trap for Bdubs? Why would anyone walk into that? Or did Bdubs have some secret ace up his sleeve that would end in even more prankage?

"Yeah, go. I'm taking pity on you, dude. So I'm gonna be your wingman in this. A dead wingman, but a wingman nonetheless. And I rather like the thought of such an amazing builder and prankster to be indebted to me. You owe me a big one after this is over, Grian."

An enthusiastic smile spread on Grian's face and if he wasn't still sitting in Bdubs lap he would have jumped into his arms then and there. He settled for simply throwing his arms around Bdubs and planting a sloppy kiss onto his cheek, leaving a deep red lipstick mark on it. "Bdubs! You are the best! I'm gonna build you the most amazing thing you can imagine for this!" Bdubs just half heartedly patted his back until Grian scrambled backwards to stand up so they'd be able to get started.

"Lead the way, little miss."

Grian couldn't even muster up the energy to throw a glare at the name, he was just too delighted at the moment. This might not be going to plan, but Doc didn't need to know. As long as Bdubs walked into his trap, he could celebrate victory and Grian's punishment would end. And then – Grian bit his lower lip, throwing one last glance at the upper level of the mansion – well, he'd see what happened when the time came.

Grian slowly ascended the stairs to the shared mine below the mansion, stepping down carefully, not to stumble in the high heels. After only a few shaking steps, Bdubs sighed and stepped up next to him, holding out one arm to steady him. Grian looked at him with a thankful smile, took a few more steps and then stopped, earning a confused glance from Bdubs.

"I can't do this.", he whispered, looking at Bdubs arm that held him, "I know you'll respawn, but still... You never did anything mean to me."

"I can decide on my own, Grian. I'm a grown ass man. And right now I want to help out my good friend get rid of his debt and maybe get laid. No backing out now. I'm ready to go off with a bang... Or whatever other nasty method Doc chose. And I sure as hell will get him back for it so don't you worry your pretty head over it."

Bdubs gave him a reassuring smile and kept walking, half pulling Grian with him, who had to fall in step not to fall down. When they got to the bottom of the stairs, Grian took a deep breath. Well, it was too late now to turn around and he wouldn't hesitate again. He'd much rather be indebted to Bdubs than to Doc, seeing what that maniac made him go through. After calming down a little Grian put a smile on his face and trying to pretend that everything was alright and going according to plan. Doc should be close by now after all.

"Just around the corner there! I prepared a nice little surprise for you. You just need to get it", Grian said and giggled a little, pretending that he had been able to convince Bdubs to come down here without knowing about the prank. As he looked at Bdubs stupid grin, Grian had to keep himself from looking too fondly at his friend.

"Wow, that is so nice! It is really amazing to have so many friends on this server! I can't wait to see the surprise!"

Bdubs let go of Grian's arm, throwing him one last smile. He jogged up to the corner and then turned to Grian, throwing him one last wink before walking on. A second later there was a deafening boom and hot wind and dust blew through the mine, making Grian's skirt flutter up.

"Well done." Doc stepped out of a side mine and Grian hurriedly pushed the fabric of his skirt down, throwing a glare in Doc's direction.

Doc didn't seem all to impressed by his glare and just kept walking over as Grian slowly stepped back. It only took a few steps for Grian's back to hit one of the walls and Doc's grin widened. He was looming over Grian, one hand pushed against the wall, the other gently resting under Grian's chin, making him look upwards. "Such a good boy, Grian. I feel like offering you something in return for your hard work."

"You are gonna let me keep my diamonds and the emeralds I traded."

An amused laugh left Doc's mouth as he shook his head. "No way. My villagers, my emeralds and my compensation. But you know I heard the rumours... Little Grian walking around and collecting kisses for some challenge. I'd be inclined to give you one more for your collection from the goat himself", Doc whispered in a low, promising voice. His thumb was gently caressing Grian's lower lip and Grian could feel his heart racing.

"Yeah...", he breathed out quietly, not sure what else to say below Doc's looming presence. The moment he answered Doc's lips were on his. It wasn't gentle and he knew his lips might be bruised and swollen later, but he didn't care. He put his arms around Doc, pulling him closer. And then he could feel a hand travelling up his leg, making his way under his skirt. Grian let out a little moan into the kiss, pressing his body even closer to Doc.

He needed to feel more. He needed... He wanted...

Suddenly an image sprang into his mind. Scar standing in front of his door, smiling at him, cheeks red and waving.

Grian pressed his eyes shut, trying to get rid of that thought. He didn't even know why he was thinking about that all of the sudden. He was about to get it on with one of the hottest guys on the server. This was no time to be distracted. He needed do savour this moment. It had been so long since he had any fun. He didn't even know why he had stopped going around the server looking for some fun... He had done it so often last season. And he couldn't even say that he was too busy getting started any more.

A hand grabbing his ass hard brought him out of his thoughts and back into the present. The tongue in his mouth was completely dominating him and he loved every second of it. They separated for a second and Grian opened his eyes again to look at Doc. Doc, who looked at him with such a hungry expression it send shivers through his whole body.

"How about we take this somewhere more comfortable? Not that I wouldn't just take you against this wall, but you don't seem like the type to do it outside."

Grian licked his lips, his heart beating so incredibly fast. He was trying to compose himself to give an answer, but words seemed to fail him at the moment. He hadn't expected for this to head in this direction, no matter what Bdubs had said. He finally settled to simply nod, earning himself a dark chuckle from Doc.

"Well then..."

Grian squeaked when he suddenly felt his feet lifting of the ground. Everything around him was shifting and suddenly he was lying atop of Doc's shoulder, like he weighed nothing and was just a sack to carry around. And he found himself kind of liking it...

The way up the stairs seemed to pass way too fast and it was as if only a few seconds had passed when he was thrown onto the pink sheets of Doc's bed. He looked up at Doc looming over him and took a deep breath to calm his nerves.

"I wanted to do this since I put you into this dress, you know? You look so fucking sexy in it.", Doc growled out, climbing on top of Grian, his hand caressing Grian's hip softly. "So fucking pretty."

And then his lips were on Grian's again and Grian could only whimper at the touch.

Doc was slowly unzipping the side of Grian's dress, pulling the fabric down.

Grian was about to get lost in the sensation, his hips bucking upwards on their own accord. And suddenly he froze. His mind going back to the desperate kiss he had shared with Scar in the End. The way Scar had looked at him. The way his heart had started beating faster. Oh damn it. Why was he thinking of that now?

Doc stopped suddenly, looking at Grian in question. He had probably noticed the way he had tensed up. "You alright?"

“Yeah. Yeah, keep going… Your hand was a little cold. That’s all”,he lied and smiled, letting his own hands wander over Doc’s back.

Doc looked at him as if searching for something, but then shrugged and bend down again, his lips going for Grian’s neck, gently nibbling the skin there. His mouth kept trailing down, leaving a burning hot trail on Grian’s skin.

Grian felt a wave of pleasure running through him, closing his eyes again as he threw his head back, only for his mind to go back to the time when he had made out with Scar in his base. Suddenly this felt so wrong and he didn’t even understand why. He just knew that he didn’t want to do it any more. He put his hands onto Doc’s chest and with gentle force he pushed the other away a little.

"I... Sorry, I can't. I'm just... I don't know. You are a fucking attractive guy but I'm... I guess I'm not in the mood. I keep getting distracted."

Doc heaved a sigh, but without Grian needing to say anything else he pulled the dress back up, patting his head and then standing up again. "Your clothes are in the closet around the corner. Take your time. I'm gonna go work off some steam."

“I am really sorry, Doc”, Grian mumbled, lowering his gaze. He honestly did feel bad for stopping, even if he hadn’t wanted to go on.

“No need to apologize or explain. It’s alright.” When Doc had almost reached the stairs down, he turned around again to look at Grian. "If you ever change your mind about this, you know where to find me. No pressure though. I prefer my partners to enjoy themselves…"

Grian stayed in the bed for a few more seconds, starring up at the ceiling. Damn. What had just happened? He must be really tired or something like that. Maybe he had been going around kissing too many people that his brain started mixing everything up… Yeah that sounded about right. Maybe he just needed to spend a few days without kissing anybody and then he would be focused on the task again…

It couldn’t have anything to do with Scar. All of this was just a game after all.

[shamelessly4shameless-blog]

130lb of Ukrainian Courage (pt 18) ‘Fuckin’ Milkovichs/Bachelor Party pt.1′

Ian wanted to go down to the court house and get married immediately. Mickey wanted to save up for a few months and try to have a proper do. They compromised and set themselves a target of four weeks. It isn’t long enough to save but it’s long enough to plan a party, get a couple of things together and let Mickey feel like he is doing right by them.

Due to the time scale it it’s going to be a ‘cost-effective’ wedding which is Ian’s delicate way of saying that what with the time he had off to recover, the new house and putting food on the table for Mandy, they are (as Mickey put it less delicately) ‘poor as fuck’.

With that in mind Ian lets go of the fleeting idea of matching suits, matching gold bands and a mini-tux for Yev. Despite Mickey being the one who insisted on having an actual wedding, predictably it is Ian who takes over the wedding planning. However, Mickey takes more interest than anyone, including himself, expected him to and offers opinions on most things including the rings Ian is looking at on his battered old laptop. Side by side on the sofa, Ian is half focussed on browsing and half concentrating on fingering the in-seam of Mickey’s pants, enjoying the small noises of appreciation each movement earns him.

They’re on an online Gothic themed jewellery store that sells silver bands when Ian turns the screen round and doubtfully shows it to Mickey, he is instantly taken with a medium width band called ‘Blood and Bone’.

“Fuckin’ sweet name, man.”

“It’s part of their … eternally enslaved collection.”

Ian wrinkles his nose but Mickey just grins and grips the back of Ian’s neck tightly, leaning in to kiss him hard.

“Kinky. I like it. Get two of those.”

“You sure? I mean I like the style but the name ...”

“It’s a kick-ass name. Better than ‘Happily ever after’ or some shit.”

Ian shrugs, happy that Mickey is happy and orders two rings for less than half the price of one traditional gold band.

“You sure you don’t mind it being silver? If you want gold ...”

Mickey rubs the back of Ian’s neck lightly, his brows knitted

“Nah. Silver’s good. Gold doesn’t really suit your whole ‘Ice King’ look.”

“Excuse me?”

“You know: black hair, pale skin, blue eyes, black clothes...”

Ian breaks off realising that he is getting The Annoyed Tongue as Mickey’s eyebrows raise and a bulge forms in his left cheek.

“It’s sexy, Mick.”

“Sounds fuckin’ weird. I got different colour clothes.”

“Yes you do.”

Ian agrees. He knows from experience that agreeing is the way to end this discussion swiftly and that a swift resolution is for the best. Mickey lights a smoke and eyes him suspiciously but lets it drop as Mandy wanders in, yawning.

“What’s up?”

“Ordering rings.”

Ian grins and sits back to let Mandy have a look at them on screen as she leans over the back of the sofa.

“Sweet name!”

She exclaims happily and Mickey gives Ian a smug look which earns him a cheerful middle finger.

“Oh hey, I gotta ask you something”

Mickey says, craning his neck to look up at his sister who is eyeing his cigarette wistfully

“Yeah? What?”

“Don’t sound so fuckin’ suspicious.”

Mickey scowls and Mandy rolls her eyes, walking round and dropping herself dramatically into his lap and breathing in the heady smell of tobacco.

“What the f...”

Mickey leans back in his seat, scowl deepening as Mandy grins up at him and flicks his chin.

“Can’t shove me, I’m pregnant.”

“Wanna fuckin’ bet? Move your ass!”

Mandy stands up and ruffles her big brothers hair affectionately

“Okay dicksplash, what did you want to ask?”

“No forget it.”

Mickey grouches, smoothing his hair back down but Ian gives him a swift kick and opens his eyes wide, prompting him.

“What?”

Mandy’s interest is piqued and she glances between the two of them impatiently

“I was gonna ask if you … if you wanna be my best man.”

Mickey looks up from under shyly lowered brows and Mandy’s face softens into a sweet little smile

“Really? You’d really pick me?”

“Well apparently I can’t pick Ian,”

Mickey shrugs, shooting his fiancé a slightly dirty look, still not over Ian’s rebuff of that particular request.  

“So yeah. I guess I pick you.”

“Awww Mickey...”

Mandy wraps her arms tightly around him from behind and Mickey suffers the squeeze as well as he can, awkwardly patting the forearm locked around his throat.

“You wanna do it or not?”

“Of course I do! This is gonna be so great!”

Mandy releases her death grip and kisses the top of his head.

“I’m going to start planning your bachelor party right now!”

She kisses him again, and then looks at Ian

“Who is your best man?”

“Lip.”

He looks almost apologetic but Mandy just shrugs, chin held high.

“Great. Mick, who do you want at your party?”

“I don’t know … you and Iggy? Maybe Svet?”

Mickey gives her his usual impatient glance and Mandy nods. To be honest, she really isn’t sure who else she would invite. Her brother has never really had friends and the only person he really likes hanging out with is Ian. So it’s going to be small, fine, that doesn’t mean it won’t be wild. Mandy grins at him and does a double thumbs up

“It’s going to be awesome. I’m on it!”

“Can’t wait.”

Mickey drawls but both Ian and Mandy see the little excited twinkle in his eye and share a knowing glance. Fuckin’ Milkovichs.

*

Lip draws on his cigarette and eyes his little brother frankly. They’re in a booth at the Alibi although neither of them is drinking anything stronger than soda. They could go somewhere else, Lip almost definitely should but it’s familiar and they’re both comfortable so they stay.

“I’m not inviting Mickey.”

“I know.”

Ian nods but Lip holds up a stern finge

“I mean it, Ian. He’s not coming.”

“Jesus! Okay … wait, why?”

“Because I want to get some seven foot Adonis to wiggle his balls in your face without having to cough up bail money for your fiance.”

Ian rolls his eyes and grins, sipping his cola and running the cool glass between his fingers ignoring his brother’s lewd grin.

“A stripper? Really?”

“Yes. A stripper. At a Gay club and the only reason I’m telling you this is because I need to know which ones you worked at so I can avoid them.”

“Uh … I never worked at Heavy Load or Jack Hammer.”

Ian blushes slightly realising that those are two of the only clubs he hasn’t pulled a shift or two at. Lip taps the names into his phone and nods.

“Cool. So now, are you sure you want to join the ranks of the indoctrinated married folks of this fair land?”

“I am. It’ll be good for us.”

Ian fiddles with the label on his jacket sleeve and it is Lip’s turn to roll his eyes

“You’ve loved him for your whole fucking life. How does a piece of paper...”

“You’re being a shitty best man, I just want you to know that.”

Lip grins his usual sardonic little grin and shrugs.

“So are you becoming a Mil...”

He bites the question off and clears his throat guiltily

“Sorry, man. Stupid question.”

“No it’s not stupid.”

Ian frowns. He has no intention of taking Terry’s family name but isn’t sure how to bring it up with Mickey.

“We haven’t actually talked about it.”

He admits finally.

“Mickey Gallagher works fine. Sounds about as Irish as it gets.”

Lip jokes and Ian’s frown clears at the thought of Mickey being a Gallagher.

“I guess I could ask him, see what he says.”

“Yeah you should. We got a an ex-con landlord, an alcoholic genius, a bipolar queer, a teen mom, an juvie kid turned military, and a black kid with two white parents. We got room for a ...”

“Whatever you’re about to call my fiancé, massively fuck you, Lip.”

Ian dips his finger in his cola and flicks it at his big brother.

“Seriously though, I’m really happy. I want this, man.”

Ian is radiating so much happiness that Lip wants to tell him he’s a fricken’ beacon and there really isn’t any need to tell anyone but what he says instead is simply:

“I know.”

“And I want you to be better with Mickey.”

“We do fine together. We had a coffee that time...”

Lip grimaces at how feeble that sounds. One coffee in ten years of knowing the guy. Ouch.

“You pick on him and you press his buttons ...”

“Dude! Come on. Mickey is like a human fucking calculator! He’s 99% buttons.”

“And he’s good at math too.”

Ian smiles smugly as Lip sighs impatiently and taps his finger on the vaguely sticky table top.

“I guess I could tease him a little less.”

“And I want you to say something nice about him in your speech.”

Ian finishes his mental list of demands and sits back contentedly. Lip raises his eyebrows at his little brother and sits back in his chair.

“You’re turning into a proper groomzilla.”

“I know. But do it anyway.”

It’s going to be far too much effort to bicker so instead they clink glasses and Lip wonders if his imminent brother in law has had a similar talk. From Ian’s moony-eyed expression, he kind of doubts it. Fuckin’ Milkovichs.

*

The bachelor parties are scheduled for a week before the wedding to allow sufficient time for hangovers to clear up, bruises to heal and any other shenanigans to blow over. Mickey had not really known what to expect, and thus gone with his life time habit of not expecting much.  

However, now as he is stumbling along the street from where the taxi dropped them off, Mickey realises he’s had a fucking excellent day. Mandy took him and Iggy to a new shooting range with the fancy moving targets and he finally got to try firing a Kriss Vector, something he’s wanted to do for years. After that he and Iggy smoked a whole bunch of pot, out the car window and got Taco Bell drive through, something Ian never lets him do, and then they just started drinking and catching up back at the house.

It’s been years since he spent so much time with his siblings and truth be told Mickey was a little nervous about it but it’s been more than just alright. They shot shit, ate shit, smoked shit and talked shit. It’s been one of the best days he has had in quite a while and the night is only just getting started.

He is already a little wasted. Ian and his posse came to the house for a few drinks before both parties headed off in their separate directions. Mickey likes the Gallagher’s a lot more once he’s had a few drinks and actually had a pretty decent time.

The topper was when Ian had dragged him off to the bedroom before they left for the night. Ian had called it marking his territory in that breathy, deep voice that always gets Mickey going and yanked Mickey’s pants down hard enough to chafe his thighs.

The slightly possessive jealousy that inspired the action pleased Mickey almost more than the actual blowjob. Ian doesn’t normally get jealous ... probably because Mickey doesn’t let anyone else so much as look at him without confrontation but whatever! It was fucking great!  

As he lurches from one side of the street to the other, Mickey loops his arms around each of his siblings.

“You guys are fuckin’ awesome, you know that?”

“Oh shit! Mick, you look trashed!”

Mandy laughs with a grimace and stops to try and smooth her brother’s hair a bit

“Yeh, I think I am.”

Mickey’s grin is wide and a little goofy as Iggy peers round to look at him.

“Ha! Little brother, you’re gonna pass out soon if you don’t slow down.”

Iggy hasn’t called Mickey ‘little brother’ for over fifteen years, not since they were kids and Mickey drunkenly grips the back of the thickly muscled neck in his hand, pressing a fierce kiss to Iggy’s cheek.

“You got anything to sober me up a little?”

“Until we get where we’re goin’ all I got is time, bro.”

For some reason, in Iggy’s slow South Side drawl, this little bit of accidental pseudo philosophy cracks Mickey up and he laughs until his legs won’t hold him and he has to sit down on the curb. Mandy is cackling too but Svet, is trying to hold herself together. Throughout their marriage, if Mickey found something funny, Svetlana did her best not to, and he supposes old habits die hard. Mickey glances at his gang of revellers and is about to tell them something about being glad they came out for his party when the laughter jiggles him a bit too much and with a convulsive shudder, he throws up.

The spray of beer, Jack Daniels, and home-brew vodka that Svet made erupts in a surprisingly neat arc straight into the gutter. Mickey looks down at his shirt to check and wipes the back of his hand over his mouth with a shaky laugh

“Shit. That was lucky!”

Svetlana tuts and steps forward, squatting in front of him in her stiletto heeled boots and producing a little packet of wet wipes and a bottle of water from her purse.

“Swill and spit. The you take a mint.”

She rattles a tiny metal tin at him and proceeds to wipe his free hand with a towelette.

“What the fuck, Svet? Why do you even have this shit?”

Mickey surrenders his other hand and accepts the tongue cluck his limp digits earn him as Svetlana cleans him up.

“Because your son is as messy as you are. I always thought it was bad parenting, turns out it is genetic. This is good news for me.”

“Nah, he’s a great kid. Nothin’ bad about him at all.”

Mickey shakes his head with a proud, one sided smile that creates a dimple in is left cheek.

“I’ll remind you of that when you’re sober.”

Svetlana smiles and offers him a hand up.

“Where are we goin’ anyway?”

Mickey asks and Mandy gives him a sly look from beneath heavily mascaraed eyelashes.

“A gay bar.”

“What?”

Mickey’s eyes flare wide and flick toward Iggy, his shoulders tensing involuntarily

“Yep, Mandy picked the place so if it’s not your scene, that’s on her!”

Iggy swigs out of his beer can and offers the rest to Mickey who takes it, still not fully processing what is going on.

“You’re comin’ to an actual gay club? You know you can’t fag bash in those, man.”

“Don’t be retarded, I haven’t done that shit in years. Didn’t feel right what with you being a queer and all.”

Iggy shrugs and grins mischievously at his little brother

“Besides, I looked this shit up online. I’m either a ‘Slim-Bear’ or a ‘cub’ and either way they’re two of the good types of gay to be. I might get laid.”

“Wha...”

Mickey looks around to make sure the others have just heard what he has but before he can question Iggy further, his brother is continuing, warming to his theme

“Ian’s a Jock now. He used to be a Twink but ...”

“Hey! Don’t fuckin’ call him that!”

Mickey snaps, but Svetlana interjects with a shrug

“No it is true, he would have been classed as a Twink before but now, definitely Jock.”

“I don’t … what that fuck are you talkin’ about?”

Mickey sips his beer and rubs a hand over his forehead in confusion.

“Types of Gay men, Mick.”

Mandy smiles, and links her arm through his.

“It’s bullshit really. Kind of like horoscopes of something.”

Mickey chews on his lip and glances at Iggy

“So … like … everyone has one, huh?”

“Pretty much. You wanna know yours?”

“No… Yeah … Okay...”

Mickey pauses in his stride and stands up to his full height, puffing his chest out and lifting his chin as if he is about to pass or fail a crucial life test. Iggy considers with a squinting scowl that earns him a ‘what the fuck’ sneer from his brother.

“You’re a Cub, but a specific type, you’re Discreet Cub”

“No! He’s a Wolf!”

Svetlana shakes her head at Iggy who frowns and tips his head, considering Mickey again

“No … not hairy enough.”

“But he is too aggressive to be a Cub.”

“Well he’s clearly a Power Bottom. They sit more in with Cubs. Mick, you’re bossy in bed, right?”

“Excuse me? What the fuck did you just ...”

Mickey begins but Svetlana waves him off and speaks over him

“Oh, most definitely a PB. But a Cub? No.”

Mickey is doing his best not to act in anyway that might mean he gets bumped to something less than satisfactory but the assessment is taking a bit too long and he can feel his patience slipping.

“Which one’s better?”

He asks irritably and then noticing that he is posing in the street, shakes himself off and keeps walking.

Svet smiles triumphantly and gestures to Mickey’s slightly wide-legged stance

“See! He even walks aggressive. Like cowboy. Like Wolf!”

“Yeah, yeah that is true. Okay, Wolf.”

Iggy nods as Mickey looks to Mandy for confirmation and she nods sagely with a reassuring wink

“You want to be a Wolf, they’re badass.”

Mickey smiles a little and rubs the edge of his nose. The whole conversation was weird as fuck and he’s not entirely sure why he let it happen but it turns out he is the badass kind of Gay dude so that’s something. He glances round at the them all again and grins to himself. Fuckin’ Milkovichs.

*