#I don't know how to soothe myself outside of cigarettes and walks to smoke them and we're out so fuck

[what-if-i-dee-eye-do]

haha can somebody come help this suicidal child bc I sure fuckin' can't

[min-chery]

Whiskey and smoke | KTH & PJM

Pairing: Taehyung / Named OC / Jimin

Rating: 16+

Warnings: Bartender Taehyung!au / Rich Jimin!au / vague mentions of sexual assault / drinking / smoking / Written in OC's POV

Summary: She has been bound to follow orders all through her life. Living a life of restraint, Taehyung had become her only source of relief. And one day, he and a very handsome stranger from the bar take a decision that rocks her damned world.

Word count: 2.9k

I swirl the amber liquid in the glass. Pegs after pegs of whiskey already In my system. It does me more good than harm. Has been doing it for the past 4 years.

It has become my companion over the years. I don't lose myself it. Never will. I find myself when have it by my side. I find the confidence I crave for. The world becomes brighter than it ever possibly could.

The bartender keeps a close eye on me, his lips forming a pout. He's sometimes the only one who cares about me. And I'll gladly indulge myself knowing I'm not unwanted.

"I'm alright Tae. It's not my first time drinking." I wave him off.

"That's why I'm worried, noona. Another family gathering?" He inquires.

"Hmm. And a few important clients from his company."

"You should tell them this isn't the life you want, Val. You're drinking yourself to death at this rate."

"It's not that easy." I sigh.

"It is that easy. You've never tried to know that." He whispers harshly.

"Don't act as if you care." I sneer. He talks as if it's that easy to confront them. Them. My manipulative parents.

"I do care, okay! You think I asked you out thrice because I don't care? All you've done those times was throw the same shitty excuse at my face. You won't understand how much I care, Valeria. You're too drunk to even try and understand how hard I'm trying to see you as just a bestfriend when we know we both are not just that." He looks disappointed in me for the first time and it breaks my heart. I look straight into his eyes without letting myself waver and he stares with the same intensity. He finally gives up, slamming the shaker on the counter before heading to the other side of the bar.

To hear him call me by name and not 'noona' or 'Val' makes me almost tear up. I sniffle, pulling my hair towards my face. The world blurs and the scenes from my first time meeting him take over.

It was in high school I first saw him. My bestfriend introduced me to this club. Back then this building had been used as a hangout spot for people interested in motorsports. Jungkook and I sneaked out from school on multiple occasions to meet with the people here. It was everything I had ever wished for. I had nothing to hide about among those people. Didn't have to pretend who I was. There was always free alcohol here. And the first time Jungkook brought me here, a guy had draped his arm over my bestfriend's shoulder and said "Who have you brought here with you, Jungkookie?"

He had smiled so wide at me, I wondered for a second if I was in heaven. How could someone have been so beautiful and been a human?

Jungkook had introduced us to each other and left us alone to get along. And we did. We got along so well and so fast, we were surprised. He talked my ear off about a girl he loved. Narrated so many stories about their happy life together. They sounded so happy and in love, that it struck me like a flash of lightning when he said she cheated on him multiple times. His eyes that had been scrunched up in a smile all afternoon and had suddenly taken a glossy sheen to them.

It had been the first time I had seen a man cry. I remember wondering if I could ever soothe him. If I could see him smile once again that day. But he recovered pretty quick. He had found something else to hold onto and love. Motor racing.

The sound of a throat clearing rings beside me and I lift up my face to look at the person. A man about my age peers at me from above his glass of scotch. There's a slight hint of a smile on his lips as if he's watched the previous conversation with Tae and finds our little fight amusing.

I sniffle and glare at him, which only makes him smile more openly. He sets down the glass on the counter and wipes the liquid off his plump lips with the back of his palm.

"Don't worry about him. He'll come around soon." He says, voice gentle and laced with a teasing smile.

"And I don't need a stranger telling me that about my bestfriend." I snicker. It makes a foul emotion crawl through my skin. To see an outsider talk about Tae, my Tae, as if he knows him better than I do.

"My my I should've probably introduced myself first. I'm Park Jimin. Taehyung's roommate." The smirk that's settled on the man's lips is so frustrating, it makes me want to punch him square in the nose.

"Do you smoke?" He asks. For once it feels like he's not mocking me. I nod, placing my hand in his when he extends it.

It's then I realize that I'm following a man that I've met for the first time outside. Beneath the arrogance, he seems like a gentleman by the way he's curled his fingers around mine. A fragility in the way he handles me.

We walk a few blocks away from the club. Music from the place we just left still faintly following us. Jimin then sits on the clean sidewalk, looking at me to sit down too. And I do. Sitting so close to him, I take to opportunity to really absorb his features into my brain. 'He's beautiful' is the conclusion my mind comes to.

He holds out a cigarette, waiting for me to put it between my lips. I part my lips open for him to do so. He gulps before doing so and then proceeds to take out his lighter. The orange light the flame produces shines on his face making him look handsome in a different way.

His eyes lift up from the cancer stick in my mouth to my eyes and fall back on my lips. He's quickly moving away from me as if he's scared of the effect I would have on him.

I take in puffs of the smoke, let it fill my lungs with the toxins. I still don't understand why it relieves me, but I'd be lying if I said it didn't. It's just as good of a friend of mine as is the alcohol.

"So you're the one who's been hooking up with Tae for so long." He says, pushing away the silence that had engulfed us. I nod, letting out the smoke I'd held in my mouth.

"I've known Tae my whole life. And I've seen him cry only a handful of times. The first time was back in high school. When he cut his ex-girlfriend out of his life. For good." He grits out the final part, eyes unfocused as he recollects his memories.

"And then a couple of years later. When you told him about your family. He didn't tell me anything other than how he thinks they're the shittiest people in your life. Didn't go into much detail about it. Just cried in my arms all night until he fell asleep." He's now looking at me with a soft look in his eyes.

"He told me he loved you that night. I always teased him about this Valeria who had his heart. Still has it. The last time I saw him cry was when you rejected him. The first time." I remember that day, I considered it the worst moment of my life. And Jimin wasn't the only one that saw him cry that day.

I woefully smile, feeling a lump in my throat grow bigger. Taking another long drag of the cigarette, I flick it onto the road. It doesn't fall far from me though. Jimin is stretching towards it and tossing it into a waste bin close by without lifting his ass up. He's smirking once again, winking at me. I laugh at his attempt to impress me with his aiming skills.

"They are shitty people. My family. I'm only something they use for their publicity stunts. Attending their business parties, walking around in rich gowns for the men to see. They never for once asked me what I wanted. All they've done is throw things at me and demand at me to be what they wanted me to be." I laugh, but it's anything but with happiness.

"I've abandoned my dreams to be a living doll for those people. I've had strangers my father's age run their filthy hands over my body. And he watched, that man. Watched his friends make his daughter feel like dirt. Can still feel the fingers of the guy my dad wants me to marry on my bare back from just hours ago." My voice cracks, tears no longer being able to be held within the confines of the waterline. As they tumble down my cold cheeks, I wrap my arms around myself. Feeling naked in my backless dress.

Jimin rustles beside me, shrugging his blazer down his shoulders and wraps it over me. He giving me an apologetic look which I wave off. I'm too tired to deal with the problems in my life.

"Why won't you agree to be Tae's girlfriend when you love him? The guy your dad chose is obviously a pathetic excuse of a man."

"I'm not the kind who stand up for themselves. I kept telling him that I'll never be able to turn down my father's order if he asks me to marry a rich businessman. I'd have to cut Taehyung out of my life and I can't do that to him. He deserves someone way better than that." I sniffle, wiping my face free of the moisture. Jimin's letting my words sink in, thinking of a response.

"Look, I've not had a great family either. Left them behind when I was really young. I let them know how forcing their decisions on me was not worth losing me. So, I understand how you must feel. But it's always nice to have someone fight for you, fight the whole world with you. And with Taehyung in your life, I don't know if there is anyone who'll be as careful with your heart as he is."

"Stop trying to set me up with him." I laugh.

"Just saying." He replies, his eyes closed into crescents as he joins in my laughter.

"Got another cigarette?" I ask as I move in closer to him. He worriedly looks at me and then nods. Once again lighting it up, he places it between my lips.

I take in a long drag and hold the smoke in my mouth. I watch Jimin gulp as I move in even closer to him. I blow it to his face, his eyes growing hooded as he looks at me through the toxic air. I pass the stick to him, asking him to do the same. He follows along, hollowing out his cheeks and blowing it to my face.

It makes my core thrum from the intensity of the scene. A hand with the number '13' tatted on the wrist holding a cigarette and the puff of smoke encasing the two of us. We've come incredibly close to each other, faces just centimeters away. He's slowly leaning in, eyes locked on my lips as mine on his. Our noses brush, a spark going straight to my brain.

I shift my head to the side, eyeing his soft ears. I lift up a finger to gently tug at the earring, toying with it as I breathe in his cologne. The soft flesh of his earlobe tend me irresistible and pull me in to press a kiss there.

Jimin's arms have wound themselves around me, his nose buried in my hair as I kiss his ear. Somehow, my mind has deemed him a safe place. Him being Taehyung's roommate playing a large role in my trust in the man I've met for the first time today.

"Val! Jimin-ah! Is that you two?!" Taehyung calls out, rushing towards us. I jump up from the sidewalk, walking towards him with Jimin trailing behind. As Taehyung nears us, he opens his arms. My eyes blur with unfallen tears and I smash into his chest.

He wraps himself around me, forming a protective embrace. I fist his black shirt at his chest, cuddling and making myself smaller in his arms. His hands run through the length of my hair, his cheek smushed at the top of my head. He's my warmth on a cold night and without him, I'd fall into a pit of eternal winter.

"I'm sorry, Val." He says, not letting go of me and I'm glad he didn't. I wasn't ready to leave his embrace yet.

"You had a tough time and came to the club for some relief and me being a dumbass lectured you." He says against my hair.

"Don't call yourself a dumbass." I pout, weakly hitting at his chest. His laughter fills my ears, along with Jimin's quiet chuckle. I look up at Jimin from where I'm buried in Tae's torso. He looking at us with newfound adoration.

"I'm sorry though." He mumbles.

" 's okay."

I'm being moved away from Taehyung's chest after a minute, but still held towards him by my waist. Taehyung looks at Jimin, a quiet conversation between them. And Jimin walks closer to the two of us, his hands going around Taehyung's shoulder.

"Hi baby." Jimin coos, making a faint red dust across Taehyung's cheeks. Jimin then places a kiss on his lips, a quick peck before they're both looking at me.

"I've been wanting to tell you something noona." Taehyung starts, his hands tightening around me.

"I and Jiminie have been roommates since high school. And we've decided to move to The States."

It hits me like a flash of lightning when he says so. He's moving away. Far away from me. And somehow it invokes a deep fear in me. Jungkook also moved to the US after college. I feel dizzy realizing I'd be left alone in the hands of my family. And I'd rather die than let that happen.

"Tae..." I whisper, the tears running down my cheeks almost instantly. His eyebrows pinch in worry, hands holding my face. His thumb brushes my cheekbones, catching the tears as they fall.

"I found an amazing photography program at one of the colleges and it fit right in my budget. I won't even have to get a student loan for it. It was our dream remember? Me taking photography while you took business courses." I nod. I remember talking about it right after we hooked up for the first time. I had laid on his chest, his arms holding me as close to him as possible.

"We're both being stagnant in our lives, Val. How long do you think we can keep hooking up? You're going to leave me behind the second you get engaged to a stranger." His eyes are filling up in pain.

"I'm coming with you, Tae. I'll suffocate here without you. Don't leave me, Tae. Don't leave me." I'm sobbing hard in his arms, clutching hard at his waist as if it would stop him from going away.

Jimin moves in, taking both me and Tae into his arms. He places a gentle kiss on both of our foreheads.

"We'll take you with us if you want, moonlet. You've got a week to yourself before we move. You can take some time and think about this decision, alright? We need you to be sure you want to come with us." he speaks benignly.

"I don't need more time. I want to come with you." I say with determination.

"That's good, Val. Jiminie will take good care of us. He's got a huge apartment in New York. Got a shit ton of money. He's really kind too. And god the things his dick makes you feel." Taehyung groans, throwing his head back and then breaking into laughter. Jimin and I join in, basking in the warmth his smile provides. We both love this adorable boy with a boxy smile and I'm sure it is seen in our eyes.

"You're making me sound like a sugar daddy, you idiot." Jimin says, hitting him softly at the back of his head.

"It is true though." Tae laughs. "Looks like lover boy's starting to feel things for you, noona."

Jimin blushes, trying to stand tall and not shying from our collective gaze. In the end, he gives up, stuffing his face in the crook Taehyung's neck.

"He doesn't have a problem with polyamory too. He's the full package, this guy." he smiles, ruffling Jimin's hair.

We don't stay there for long after our conversation. We head to Jimin and Taehyung's apartment and I stay the night. We all spend time getting to know each other better. Me and Jimin bond very fast, learning we're both similar in a lot of ways. I and Tae let Jimin in on our stories from years ago. I and Jimin even kiss for the first time that night, leaving us warm and blushing.

As the night progresses and we lay in each other's arms on the living room floor, I realize I'm being given another chance at life. Maybe running away from the people who birthed you isn't the best way to start your life again. But it feels good. To finally leave behind the toxicity. In a week's time, I'll be free. And I intend on making the most out of my life after.

[xtrash-writing-trashx420]

Cheeky Minx || John Shelby x OC

//Welcoming the New Recruit//

"Makenna Aoife MacTavish, A.K.A. Makenna Muldoon; Duchess of Glenbrook, Aged 23

Served at the Somme as a field nurse and,"

The man before me takes a pause and looks up at me in faux surprise, as if the information on the paper he's gawking at isn't exactly why he's come seeking me out, and then continues in an almost condescending manner;

"Hm... and soforth was awarded title as Duchess and Sole Proprietor of Glenbrook Estates and Enterprises in Boston for her acts of valor.," He pauses again to throw down the file he was reading and light himself a cigarette.

I take in every detail, knowing that this meeting can end up only one of two ways, and assess the scenario. Tilting my head slightly and leaning back into the armchair in front of his desk, I cross my legs; his eyes glance from his ministrations with the box of matches he's holding and zip down to my left thigh where one strip of honeyed milk lies perfectly exposed between my black leather garter holster and my thigh-high nylon stockings.

I see the slight glint of mirth cross his steel blue eyes as he catches my not-so-subtle warning and continues to light his cigarette. I watch as he pulls his drag, the way his fingers just barely drape the stick of tobacco between them without effort, the way his eyes study mine, the way his free hand keeps switching between his knee and the top of the desk.

'A gangster like this doesn't get nervous over one woman with a snubnose purse pistol... Who is he waiting for?'

"I'll take one, while your at it." He smirks at this, and goes to hand me the one he's smoking. It's my turn to smirk, as I nod to his pack.

"A new one, if you don't mind." He raises his eyebrow, but nevertheless, complies. As I lean forward to take the cigarette, he lights another match and lights it for me, leaning over his desk so I don't have to.

'A gentlemanly gangster, not too hard on the eyes either.,' I admit to myself, studying his sharp features and piercing eyes.

Finally, after what seems like ages of simply sitting across and analyzing eachother, he continues.

"You're titled Duchess of Glenbrook but the common people call you Miss Kenna. You have 15 bars, 2 breeders farms, a horse track and 27 plots of real estate, and that's just in London alone. Glenbrook Estates is what, a mansion? And it says here you have 3 vacation homes as well." He scoffs and throws the file down on his desk.

"Well, let's get on with it, Mr. Shelby, as you well know, I'm a busy woman.," My voice is far too suave for my liking, but the situation calls for a little theater. "I would assume you called me here for a reason, this is hardly the place for a business meeting with someone of my status."

I sound like a proper posh cunt, and it seems as if he's taking the bait as he groans out a sigh and leans back into his chair. He lifts a hand to rub his temples, and then slams his fist on his desk in a motion so fast and loud, I was almost startled.

Almost.

He seems unfazed my lack of reaction, and continues on.

"Let's not pretend like you don't know what I want. You have influence all over, spies everywhere, and a very high standing. Everyone knows who you are. Nothing happens without you knowing about it.-"

"-As if I don't already know that-" I snappily interject.

"And I want your men, and your cooperation when we take over London. You're the most untouchable woman in all of North America. If you tell someone not to fuck with us, they won't. And those that do, you have ways of making it so they never existed."

I frown, sinking into the armchair infront of his desk once more and taking a long drag of my smoke.

"I see."

For the next few minutes we simply stare at eachother while we finish off our smokes, picking, analyzing, contemplating. Finally, after he offers me the crystal ashtray to put out, I appraise him and ask one simple question.

"What do you want from me?"

~~~~~~~

It's been 2 months since my meeting with Thomas Shelby at his gambling den, and 6 days since our last correspondence.

"Pack what you can in a suitcase and my men will come to collect you on Thursday. You're not safe."

No explanation, no reasoning, just that little tidbit over the phone while gunshots rang true and the sounds of men fighting grumbled in the background before he abruptly hung up. And since Thursday had come and gone the day after the call, I had resorted to relieving all of my staff save for my most trusted.

The only ones left on premises were my gate guards, my doormen, and my butler amd personal guard Carleton, who had only worked for me for 2 years but I was rather well aquanted with. We had hit it off rather well, and I considered him more friend than staff. He was a tall, broad shouldered Jewish man with a scruffy, large beard and bright eyes that reminded me of a child's, with a contradictory scowl that would make a grizzly piss himself.

Initially after receiving the warning, I had brushed it off without care. Being hunted was nothing new to me after all, being a woman who had served in the war and in other more internal battles of politics. But this was different.

I remember after the call I had snorted in laughter, summing it up as a joke and continuing on with my day. I had been untouchable, faceless and anonymous since the war. Only the most internal government files and most skilled intelligence organizations even knew what I looked like, let alone my real name. That was what had led me to agree to take up business with Thomas in the first place. But 2 months into business with the bloke and I show up to my race track to find every single one of my employees and horses shot and beat to hell.

Since then, I had taken to locking myself in my art studio with my easels and paints to distract myself; though it did little to nothing to soothe my racing mind. For the millionth time in just that day, I wondered why I wasn't safe, I wondered if Thomas and his Blinders had been picked off by their enemies, I wondered if my name had been let slip by one of his lackies in a braw deal that ended badly. I couldn't understand how I had gone from being untouchable, to going into hiding.

The only constant in each equation was none other than Thomas Shelby, and I made a mental note to tear him a new asshole when I got the chance.

I gave a start, knocked from my thoughts as Carleton entered with my afternoon tea, and my paintbrush skewed off stroke.

"Oh, fuck." I swore crassly, looking around my desk to find the paint I had used on the background to cover my mistake; not noticing my butler's sarcastic and smug grin over my classless use of vulgarity.

"Your tea, and lunch, Miss Muldoon." He presented my tray with grandiose show of putting it on my desk and lifting the cover to reveal my tea and what looked to be ladyfingers and some sort of meat sandwich. I didn't care, I was starving and anxious, so I sat and ate, thankful for the distraction.

"Don't be so smug, Carleton, I'm going mad up here." I complained as I ate, gesturing around me. "That smug bastard Shelby is going to pay for this. I've lived so comfortably until now."

"Speaking of, madam, you received a telegram."

"Oh bother, burn it."

"It seems important, ma'am. It mentions the race track."

At this I lean back to look over at him, he's moved clear halfway across the room to speak, and he's shifting his weight and wringing his hands. I sigh, and wave him on. He reads it out slowly, and I "tsk" in disappointment.

"You haven't been practicing," I chastise him, pulling a "give it here" motion with my fingers and taking the telegraph from him as soon as he's close enough. "Have you even read any of the practice books I've given you?"

"...No, ma'am, it's more difficult when you're not helping."

I glance at him with an incredulous look.

"That's no excuse, and you know it." I say, finally taking a moment to look at and read the telegraph in my hands, but it doesn't matter, because as soon as I go to focus, a gunshot resounds from outside the estate by the gates.

With a start, I get up and run to the window, moving the curtains to get a better view. I hear Carleton move the opposite way, closing the doors behind him as he leaves.

I continue to watch out the window, trying to see whats happening, though not to much success. The large fountain in my front garden is centre view from this room and all I can see behind it is a motorcar at my gate and my gatemen pointing their rifles at it. As I walk along the windows to try to catch a better view, I just barely see an arm come out the window of the motorcar with a piece of paper clutched in their outstretched hand before my gatemen move to unlock the gate and let the car through.

That's all I need to see to know.

The Peaky Blinders are outside my house.

(SO this will be a series based off of a slightly Mary-Sue character but it just is part of the story, please don't hate me for it lol. It'll make sense as to why she's this massive standing character later on. She's still a normal ass broad with hormones and issues so its okay lmfao. But anywhoooo, this is basically just a filler character intro to explain why Kenna is around and stuff. John will be in the next chapter, don't worry 😉 also my dumbass didn't proof-read this because its 6:00am and I NEED sleep. )

[jd-loves-everyone]

Chapter 2: Kim Seungmin

I don't remember exactly when it happened, but I know that it was during his mom's (my mom's best friend) birthday, that I met Kim Seungmin.

The moment I stepped into the house, I could tell that, despite being a single mother, Ms. Kim was doing very well for herself. I can't really recall what her job was exactly, but I think it had something to do with tourism.

And as I stepped into the wide living room, I could guess that the party would probably get boring pretty quickly, if not downright annoying. This because of the too high number of kids (much younger than me) that I could see walking (some crawling) around, along with who I assumed were their mothers sat on the sofa, sipping champagne and laughing (obnoxiously) loudly.

"Oh my, is this your little girl? She does look just like you, I have to agree." I turned my attention back to the host, an adult woman (on the younger side) dressed to the nines with expensive and incredibly shiny jewelry. Ms. Kim. I greeted her politely, while standing next to my proudly grinning mother.

"She truly is a beauty. I bet the boys go crazy over you. Oh, you must be around my son's age, I'm sure he'd LOVE to meet you! Seungmin, darling! Come over here, meet Hana, Mrs. Park's daughter. She's just a year older than you, I believe."

A hazelnut brown haired boy walked over from the living room sofa, where he had been sitting, surrounded by children.

Despite being younger, Seungmin was quite a bit taller than me, with broad, but shyly hunched shoulders covered by a simple but expensive-looking pale pink sweater, paired with blue jeans and black sneakers (all seemingly of the same, high, level of quality). His hair was wavy and looked incredibly soft, covering his forehead and only showing a small sliver of the middle of it. He had a long angled face, ending at a square chin, with a mole next to his mouth and a straight nose. For some reason he reminded me of a puppy, a beagle to be exact. No idea why.

He smiled tightly and politely, the type of smile most would show in a situation like the current one. I could bet he would look much cuter with a genuine smile.

"Well, why don't you two go and get to know each other? Me and Mrs. Park over here, have a lot of catching up to do." Ms. Kim said jokingly, laying a hand on mine and Seungmin's shoulders and gently directing us back to the living room, as both ladies walked to the balcony. Ms. Kim took out a cigarette as they did. I could have guessed she smoked, no amount of expensive perfume (even if it was a lot of it) could fully cover that distinct smell of smoke.

I sat next to Seungmin on the couch, opposite of where the other older women were sitting, chatting loudly, still. In clear contrast to them, were us, sitting in absolute and tense silence.

Every time I thought of starting a conversation, I talked myself out of it, thinking that he'd do it instead. But he never did. He seemed pretty content with just sitting in relative (but definitely awkward) silence.

I quickly grew annoyed at having to listen to the women screech about everything that didn't matter in the slightest to me, like the latest trends and who was dating who at the moment. So, I turned toward Seungmin to try to figure out what he was thinking of the situation.

Unlike what I imagined, I turned to find him fidgeting and squirming in his seat while his eyes darted around the crowded room. Seeing as he showed outwardly what I was feeling inside, I decided to finally try to evade the situation.

"Look, I don't wanna be here. And clearly, neither do you. So, you know any place we could go to where it isn't so loud?" I asked somewhat impatiently making my accidental companion flinch from the suddenness of my question, scrambling for an answer.

"Well, my room has a balcony. It's pretty quiet there, I think."

"Then, what are we waiting for? Let's get out of here before I lose any more brain cells from listening to whatever uselessness those ladies are talking about over there." I said exasperated, already getting up from my seat as Seungmin quickly did the same. That seemed to make his lips twitch slightly. It was gone the next second, as if it had never been there to begin with, which piqued my curiosity: 'what would his real smile look like?', I wondered.

We headed to his room (thankfully unnoticed as I didn't want to even try and explain the situation we were in). It was big, but seemed smaller than it actually was due to all the clutter littered around. Despite this it still seemed to be very aesthetically pleasing, as the warm brown walls paired with the yellow string lights hanging around the room (which I only noticed after he flicked the light switch) and the soft and fluffy caramel carpet created a soothing and cozy atmosphere. A detail that caught my attention almost immediately after the lights were on (besides the string lights) were the various printed photos hanging from ropes on more than one of the room’s walls. It just helped with making the room feel as if it had been taken straight out of an interior design catalog.

Upon closer inspection, as Seungmin busied himself with trying to open the sliding door to the balcony, the pictures didn’t look anywhere near what I’d expected. They certainly didn’t look like the work of an amateur, the angles were creative and eye catching and the light and framing always seemed to be just right in each and every one. I was caught off guard by the quality of all of them for a moment, before my eye caught onto something atop a shelf to my right. A VERY expensive-looking white camera.

I realized it made sense as I thought back to the car ride from my suburban house to the apartment complex where he lived, in the fancier part of town.

Seungmin groaned in frustration as he struggled to open the balcony door.

“Is it jammed? Do you need my help?” I ask as I watched him wrestle with it for a moment longer before taking a deep breath and turning toward me.

“No, it’s not and no, I don’t. This door just needs a little… finessing, is all. So don't worry about it.” He tried reassuring before going back to trying to tug the door open, although with how skinny his arms looked (even under his fashionably bulky sweater), I had my doubts that he would be able to get the door open.

But I was proven wrong as, only a moment later, (by means of finesse indeed) he was finally able to open the hellish glass door.

“It’s old and I use it a lot, so it needs to be fixed, which we were supposed to do a while ago but whatever. Doesn’t matter. Come on.” He said absentmindedly, finally stepping outside. I quickly followed suit.

Once I stepped foot onto the white-tiled floor, I was hit with a gust of wind which brought with it an air much colder than the atmosphere inside the house had been like. And I mean MUCH colder, to the point where it didn't even help cool down my steaming cheeks, (which I only realized were so at that moment) only serving to basically freeze them instead. But I have to say, the view was worth it.

Living in the suburbs had a lot of perks in comparison to this part of town, such as the peace and quiet, and how everyone seemed to know each other. But I realized in that moment that none of it could compare to the view of the city skyline at night from Seungmin's balcony.

The lights of the buildings in the distance seemed to shine like stars and the shape of the tall and skinny buildings of the city were such a stark contrast to what I was used to that I just couldn't tear my eyes away. Of course I could hear the sounds of traffic from my house, but the night seemed much quieter than I had expected. The whole atmosphere was so different that it seemed so captivating to me just because of my curiosity.

It seemed like my curiosity wasn't wholly to blame for my astonishment at the scene, as Seungmin quickly disappeared back into his room to fetch something, as I leaned onto the metal railing, eyes still locked onto those bright lights that reflected off of the shiny windows of the fancier buildings. The city really never slept, I realized.

The boy returned not a moment later, camera in hand as he stood beside me, pointing it at where I was looking, then fiddling with some buttons before the sound of a photo being taken sounded over the now calmer wind, all as I observed him keenly.

As he continued to take his photos, seemingly unbothered by my staring, I turned back to the view, laying my cheek against my palm as I gazed at the sky. It made me think about how (unfortunately), because of all the artificial lights, I couldn't see the stars. But it made sense to me, in a very weirdly poetic way. If you can see all these "stars" on earth, why would you even look for stars in the sky? Plus, with the life people led these days, I guess it didn't really matter much.

I was brought out of my reverie by movement at the corner of my eye. Seungmin had raised his pristine white camera, aiming it at the side of my face, seemingly framing the shot, before pulling his face away from the viewfinder to look at my face himself but keeping his hands in the exact same place.

"Um... I know this is weird but, can I take a picture of you?" He asked nervously, but seemingly eager.

"Sure, why not?" I answered nonchalantly, trying my best to keep down the blush that threatened to spread across my cheeks, despite the cold. To even think that someone like him, who seemed close to a professional's level at such a young age, would consider including me in one of his photographs was flattering enough, much less making me the center of it.

I tried my best to relax and focus on the soft clicks the device emitted every time a photo was taken.

The boy finally parts from his machine, overlooking his work and nodding to himself, seemingly satisfied. He leaned the camera toward me so I could look at it myself and my breath is immediately taken from me.

I would never consider my appearance to be anything extraordinary (and I still wouldn't do it now) but perhaps it was Seungmin’s magic that made a picture of me look like so much more. The way the golden lights lit up my face by settling into the smooth planes of skin made it resemble liquid gold, dripping from the sky and thinly covering my exposed features. My eyes reflected the same lights, shining like stars in an endless and dark sky.

“Wow… Seungmin, you really have a talent.” I chucked, still astonished.

“I do have to say, this might be my best one yet. Can I…?”

“Keep it, it might be my face, but it’s your vision so it belongs to you in my eyes.” I shrugged, dismissively. He nodded gratefully, raising the camera once again towards the view beyond the balcony as I sat against the wall next to the door.

After a few minutes, Seungmin sat beside me with a satisfied smile on his lips and hair tousled from the wind that had picked up.

I felt an involuntary shiver crawl up my back as the cold air grazed my thinly covered arms. I subconsciously leaned closer to the brown haired boy, seeking for some warmth, as I remembered that I had left my jacket in the coat hanger by the front door, downstairs.

I sighed defeatedly, about to go get it, but it seemed as if my shiver had not gone unnoticed, as I had hoped. Seungmin got up before I could, walking back inside his room without a word. I looked at the door that he had gone through curiously.

Not even a second later, he stepped back out onto the balcony, with a tan, soft and warm looking coat in his hand. He held it out to me wordlessly, motioning for me to take it. I did so with a grateful smile and a small 'thanks'. It was still too small for my liking, though.

I wanted to know if his gums would show or if his eyes would disappear behind his cheeks.

“I think we should go inside now.” I suggested after the temperature had gone down too much for us to stay comfortably on the balcony any longer. Seungmin nodded, not finding the lights interesting enough to endure the cold air any longer.

We moved back inside and as Seungmin closed the sliding door behind us I took another look around the room. As I scanned the coffee-colored walls again, I noticed something that I seemed to have missed the first time I had examined the space, possibly due to the awkwardness I had felt as I stepped into the room of a boy I had only just met for the first time. I was a bit disappointed and confused as to how I could have missed it.

The wall opposite the one I had been inspecting as I waited for Seungmin to finally open the door, was covered (almost floor-to-ceiling) in photographs. Some were bigger than others, some seemed older than others, but they all had the same sort of… style to them. From how the light hit the subject in focus, to the angles, it all had the same artistic flare that would commonly be found in the most prestigious art galleries in the world. Maybe that was a bit of an overstatement, but it perfectly encapsulated what I felt as I looked at what I saw as indisputable masterpieces.

I let out a sound akin to a sigh, feeling as if the air had been knocked out of me. Sure, the picture Seungmin had taken of me on the balcony was unbelievably stunning, but that could be excused as luck. I never thought he’d be able to capture a moment so beautifully one other time, let alone enough times to cover almost an entire wall with.

“Wow… These are amazing, Seungmin.” I turned towards him as he stopped beside me, blushing at my praise.

“Oh, they’re nothing…” He said, looking down sheepishly.

“No! They really are! I may know next to nothing of photography, but it doesn't take an expert to see that you have an incredible talent or just remarkable skill.” I said earnestly, seeking out his eyes that had become hidden as his head lowered in shyness to prove my honesty, making him even more flustered as he tried his best to avoid my awe-stricken gaze.

“Well… I do spend a lot of time on it.” He relented, finally accepting my compliments, albeit rather bashfully.

“It shows.” I said firmly, turning back to the wall of moments.

From the corner of my eyes I caught a small, but more significantly sized, real smile, brought on probably by the ease in tension.

We spent the rest of the night in his room, getting to know each other. His smile (the real one) never left his lips as we talked about his love for photography. In fact, it only seemed to broaden the more we talked and the more relaxed we became. Its brightness never dimmed, even as we moved on to other topics, such as his other friends and what school he frequented. I found out that he didn’t have many friends, but he didn't seem to mind, he actually seemed to prefer it that way which made me feel like an exception. And, although I wouldn’t admit it, it made a warm feeling bloom in my chest.

As the night came to an end, we were called downstairs, back to the living room, where mine and Seungmin’s mom waited, alone as no one else remained in the space.

We bid each other goodbye, Ms. Kim making a comment about how I should visit more often, making my mother laugh as Seungmin returned to his shy demeanor.

I later found out that he had chosen my high school to frequent through Jeongin, the 1st year student that I mentored in English, who was apparently also Seugmin’s best friend. Once I met with the boy again and asked why he hadn’t told me, he explained that he wanted to but every time we talked we’d get carried away in our stories and he’d always forget.

Moving schools midyear couldn’t have been easy for him, but he seemed to quickly become very popular amongst not only the students but the teachers as well. He was polite, friendly, helpful and the top of his class in grades. And despite it being only his first year of high school, everyone from his teachers, to his mother and even my own, could tell with clear certainty that he had a bright future ahead of him. I myself knew that, encouraging him as he started thinking about studying abroad, even as I briefly acknowledged the ache that formed in my chest at the thought of him doing so. I didn’t know exactly what that ache was due to, but I didn’t think I was ready to find out yet, so I continued to brush it off. Until a very special evening that is.

In light of Seungmin joining the photography club, his keen eye was quickly noticed by not only his classmates, but most importantly by his teacher, who decided to talk to him about the possibility of participating in our district’s photography contest. Something he had immediately said ‘yes’ to.

The 10 best were invited to a lavish event where the winner would be revealed. And it came as no surprise to me that Seungmin was invited. What did come as a surprise, was him asking me to attend the event with him. He said it was fitting, since one of the entries he submitted was the first photo he took of me, the one on the balcony. After getting over the initial surprise, I agreed without hesitation.

But now, staring at the museum’s grand staircase in my knee-lenght, flowy, peach colored dress, I felt my stomach twist itself into more knots than I had in my hair when I woke up that morning. And as the cold, spring night air brushed my bare legs I simultaneously wanted to stay where I was, rooted to the ground and holding tightly onto Seungmin’s arm, while also wanting to go in and just getting it over with so that I could escape the cold.

A reassuring squeeze on my hand put a pause on my anxious thoughts as I turned towards the puppy eyed boy I was here for.

As I looked him over once more I felt my mood brighten a bit, I almost wanted to giggle. He was sharply dressed in a simple black tuxedo with a yellow tie, that he said he had chosen to try to match my dress. But it wasn’t the brightly colored tie that almost made me laugh despite the mood I was in.

It was simply the image of Seungmin, who basically only wore jeans and loose-fitting shirts and hoodies despite his mother’s insistence in telling him that he had to look his best at all times, wearing such formal clothing that caused such a reaction.

His cheeks were colored pink as he, seemingly, chose to focus on the spot above my left eyebrow instead of looking me in the eye, which reminded me of what had transpired just minutes before.

As I arrived at his house before the event, so we could arrive together, I was immediately warmly greeted by Ms. Kim, who told me that Seungmin would be ready in just a moment. We made small talk about school as we waited, and soon I heard the sound of footsteps approaching the entrance.

As Ms. Kim stepped aside to look at her son, my eyes immediately locked onto the vibrant tie he had previously told me he would wear, before moving up to his face, which was a sight in and of itself.

His lips were parted in awe and his cheeks were flushed a light pink, which darkened as he locked eyes with me, prompting both of us to look away shyly.

“You look— Ahem. You look lovely.” He said, voice cracking midway.

“Thank you! You look pretty… Snazzy!” I don’t think I’ve ever regretted saying something as much as in that moment.

As people continued to enter the building, we still stood outside, trying to calm each other’s nerves more than our own. Seungmin tried his best to look me in the eyes and give me a reassuring smile, but it ended up being none of that. A for effort nonetheless.

“Let’s just get this over with.” I finally said, trying to appear nonchalant and unbothered as I quaked in my low black heels.

As we stepped into the building, Seungmin’s mother left the both of us alone to go socialize and we were left to our own devices. We decided to pass the time by looking around at the other participants.

We walked among the crowd of mostly adults who looked at us as if we were supposed to be somewhere else, it was unnerving to say the least. To quell our nerves we poked fun at things such as the models’ poses and the weird props used in some pictures. We were both well aware that what we were doing was probably disrespectful (if the artists were to overhear us) and that others were probably doing the same to our photos, but we couldn’t help it, they just looked too pretentious to not make fun of. What did they expect from two highschool kids?

I genuinely hoped that Seungmin was chosen as the winner, and not because he was my friend (at least not entirely). But because all the entries we had passed by didn’t seem to have any genuine emotion put behind them, or any creativity. They seemed like those art pieces that appear to portray a deep message but would seem like nonsense to anyone that had even a semblance of common sense and wasn’t content in just going along with whatever some high and mighty creator threw them. Not to mention the fact that most seemed to be relying only on their expensive cameras to win them the prize instead of actually putting any real thought or effort into their photos.

I knew I was nowhere near an “art-connoisseur”, I wasn’t even a contestant, but after spending so much time with Seungmin and his heartfelt pieces, I had formed my own opinion on art.

Just as we started to run out of “humorous critiques”, unknowingly almost wandering into a closed off section, a nearby speaker declared that the winners would soon be announced and for all the guests to gather in the main room.

Many eyes locked onto us as we entered the large (but slightly cramped) room. (Or was that just my nerves?) Just as I thought, we seemed to be the youngest people in the room as far as I could see (which wasn’t very far as everyone was so tall, and my heels barely helped), except for some kids who were very clearly some contestant’s children. It made me feel proud for Seungmin and intimidated, at the same time.

I unconsciously began to curl into myself, clenching my fists at my sides and chewing on my bottom lip as anxiety began to wash over me, slowly but surely. I began wondering if Seungmin even had a chance to win, how heartbroken I thought he’d be if he lost and what the other contestants found so interesting in us to keep staring as I knew they were as we approached the front of the room where a small platform was raised, behind it were the paintings competing. The lady next to us gave us an odd look, as if she thought we might be lost, but didn’t say a word.

As if noticing my distress, or perhaps to ground himself, Seungmin’s hand snuck between my hand and my side, the tip of his fingers tentatively hovering over my palm as if wanting to hold my hand but unsure if he could. With an uncharacteristic burst of confidence, brought on by the need to hold onto something, I interlocked our fingers tightly, squeezing once for comfort.

A man stepped on stage, asking the crowd to quiet down, and it was as if my brain had listened to his command and suddenly everything became quiet. Looking at the boy beside me, his expression seemed to reflect the same emotions, but as he noticed my stare he managed to conjure up a vaguely reassuring smile.

I felt more than a little silly for being so stressed out over something that Seungmin probably would just brush off, but the idea of how elated he would become if he won was just too perfect to be taken away from me. I just wanted to see him happy. No matter what.

And as my mind zeroed into that thought, the realization of a fact that had actually always been there hit me. It was so obvious that the meaning never fully registered.

I wanted to see Seungmin happy, no matter what, and the implications that were previously lost on me now came to light. It was more than friendly, that was for sure.

As the man on stage went one with his speech, my mind lingered on precious images I had saved in my brain, like Seungmin’s smile. His genuine smile and not the stiff and fake version he first presented to me. I felt how much joy and comfort it brought me.

All his pictures, and how many emotions they brought me.

How he always called ME first when he wanted to take a specific picture because I was apparently his favorite model.

How my heart would skip a few beats when Jeongin mentioned that he’d said something about me, always wondering what exactly it had been but never asking.

How warm and soft his hand felt in mine, and how much comfort the simple action of holding his hand brought me.

It all made me realize that there was something there, something strong and important.

And once my mind shifted back to the situation at hand, the third place had already been announced and the second on its way to the stage. This meant one of two things, either Seungmin would be first place, or he hadn’t even reached the podium. I prayed for the first option, but expected the second.

So I looked back to the young boy’s piece, and all the memories and emotions it held.

It was a photo taken in Seungmin’s balcony, of me leaning against the metal railing. My face was dark as I faced away from the unfocused colored lights behind me and towards the camera. My hair was wet from the rain, droplets running down my face and neck towards my floor-length dress, which from what I remember was way too thin as I started sneezing almost immediately after the long time it took to get that picture to be perfect. I couldn’t see or recall what my expression was since all that could be seen of my front were the minuscule bits of light some droplets reflected.

I remembered the moment Seungmin saw the dress on me, he seemed to have an epiphany, immediately demanding that we needed to have a photoshoot with it. It was nothing special in my eyes, but he seemed to see something in it.

He was immediately taken with the picture as he saw it first in his mind and then on his screen, much like he had been with the one he took on the night we met (which he, at first, wanted to use as his submission to the last stage of the competition, until I managed to make him understand that it just wasn't enough). It was colorful, bright, full of youth and life, in my eyes.

“And the winner is…” The announcer said, making my grip on Seungmin’s hand become impossibly tighter. And as the name of the winner was spoken and I registered that it wasn’t my friend’s (or maybe more) name, my shoulders dropped and my hand went lax in the boy’s hold. I looked at the winner's piece, in search for some answers or closure, for a turmoil that wasn’t really mine to feel.

The older man’s piece was a picture of a meteor shower, rare and undoubtedly beautiful. The stars shone in the sky just like the rain had on my skin, yet to me, they seemed so different.

I searched my brain for answers to why this was so much better than our piece, fundamentally ours had more layers, even more colors. And it had a story, of all the times we spent alone on that balcony sharing dreams and visions, and as far as the judges knew the story could be much different, much deeper and…

Then I realized what went wrong. The judges couldn’t score a piece simply for what it could be, but for what it was. The meteor shower was a beauty of nature, unquestionable and clearly on display to all, while the beauty of Seungmin’s photo seemed to be wholly personal, something that perhaps not all could see or feel the full weight of. I felt silly for letting my emotions cloud my vision for so long and so intensely but with my new found feelings for the boy, it wasn’t all that surprising. It still didn’t take away the feeling of my heart being shattered into many tiny pieces as Seungmin was announced as being in fourth place. Fourth place! So painfully close. But what really hurt, was the tight and insincere smile he presented to me after giving what he probably hoped was a reassuring squeeze of my hand, but actually only served to stomp on the tiny pieces left of my heart, shattered through pure disappointment and sadness.

All the other adults were quick to begin mingling as soon as all the names were announced. I released a sigh.

“Fourth place, for the first time, isn’t terrible. I think.” Seungmin said, positively, and what I managed to grant him as a response was a low hum of sad and resigned agreement.

Figuring that the night was technically over for us, as we had nothing else to do in that space since we weren’t about to begin socializing with a bunch of adults who still looked at us as if we didn’t belong there, we walked to the entrance room, Seungmin sending his mother a text to come to us.

“Excuse me! Are you Kim Seungmin, perhaps?” Said a middle-aged man as he approached us with a smile.

“Yeah- I mean, yes. That would be me. Did you need something?” The boy asked nervously, clearing his throat.

“Yes! I need to talk to you! I think it’s impressive that you even managed to get this far with your age, and to be fourth place as the youngest competitor just shows how much potential you have! I commend you for your work and passion!” The man said excitedly.

I once again tuned their conversation out, only coming back to the present to send the occasional polite smile and to walk to the car once Seungmin’s mother arrived (and was done speaking to the lively man).

A certain possibility which caused me both joy and sadness loomed over me as we got back to the Kim family apartment, me and my friend walking up the stairs towards his balcony to sit in as we waited for my mother to come pick me up, as she had insisted on doing.

My beautiful dress did me no favors against the cold wind of the balcony, leaving me curled up in front of the glass sliding door facing the bright city lights while shivering slightly, but not thinking for a moment to go get a jacket and I did all that on autopilot.

Just as the cold was starting to sober me up and break me out of my trance, a jacket (too large to be mine) was laid across my shoulders, before Seungmin sat beside me. That tan, warm and soft jacket from what seemed like so long ago.

“Why do you look so down? If it’s for me, then there's no need. Fourth place really isn't that bad, plus, and you probably weren't paying attention but the man me and my mother talked to offered me a chance to get a scholarship! In the states no less! I mean, first I have to apply and a spot isn't exactly one-hundred percent guaranteed, but I got a pretty good chance!” He very much reminded me of a puppy in that moment, ecstatic and jumpy, full of smiles and talking so fast that he became slightly breathless.

I battled with myself. He clearly seemed excited over the prospect of studying abroad and although it felt like my life’s mission at that moment was making him as happy as possible, I really, really, didn’t want him to go. To be so far away from me.

“And I know it makes very little sense, but… I want you to come with me. Don’t think about it too much, or you’ll stress yourself out but I feel like you made this opportunity possible, so I’d love to have you by my side. What do you say? I mean, you don’t have to say it now, we still have time. But, maybe you could give me a pointer?” He looked at me with those big puppy eyes full of hopes and dreams, begging to not be shattered.

He was right, the whole thing didn’t make a lot of (if any) sense, and it seemed like he was just riding the good mood he was in, but the answer still seemed to matter a lot to him.

Truth be told, I had absolutely no intention or interest in studying abroad and even though it was a priceless opportunity for Seungmin, I didn’t want him to go either. I didn’t want things to change so drastically. I wanted to keep him warm smiles and comforting touches near (and possibly all to myself).

But he was right, it wouldn’t happen for at least a couple of years, so truly there was no need for a definitive answer.

“I’ll think about it.” I said to which he nodded, seemingly pleased, before turning his gaze to the mesmerizing lights of the city.

Even though I said what I said, I knew my real answer already. I truly didn’t want to go.

But as I looked at his side profile, the faintest (but cutest) ghost of a self-satisfied smile on his lips, I knew that I would do anything for even that smile, which was so small and probably careless, even if it meant taking Seungmin halfway across the world, and away from me.