#anyway seoul is where we met nearly 5 years ago

[suoulfillem]

spent new years eve with my closest friend, writing what we were thankful for in 2024, and our goals and intentions for 2025 before making a vision board for the year ahead

[purplesurveys]

1692

What was the last film you watched, that made you feel emotional? That’s a tricky one as I don’t watch really watch movies anymore, much less cry over them. The last memory I have of crying is over Hometown Cha-Cha-Cha but this was nearly two years ago.

Does anyone you know ever recommend books to you? Everyone kind of has an idea that I don’t really read, so no.

What was the last idea you had, that didn't quite go to plan? Not quite just my own idea, but Angela, Hans, and I had planned to go to Bruno Mars’ shows this weekend. Didn’t go to plan when we realized no one was selling their tickets. I LOVE Bruno Mars and would have wanted to see him, but considering I’ve just come from a trip and was recently at a concert I wasn’t as desperate as I would’ve been and also not as disappointed when it was becoming increasingly clear that we wouldn’t be able to see Bruno.

Is there a type of accessory that you always wear? I wear a bucket hat a solid 80-90% of the time I’m out.

What traits/behaviours do your pets have, that you find cute? Agi will force you to pet him/rub his head. Just sit down somewhere, have your hand where he can reach it, and he will keep nudging it such that it leads you to the crown of his head. 

As for Cooper, when he feels like whining, he does these little passive-aggressive whimpers that feel like he’s grumbling to himself softly but actually wants you to hear him. OH and I also love how, despite tending to be possessive around his humans, when it comes to his absolute favorite toy he always gives it up for Agi who usually grabs it away from him whenever we play fetch.

Has your phone fallen out of your pocket at any time recently? No. I never put it in my pocket for that very reason. I typically just have it in my hand as it’s the most secure you can be with it.

Are your nails long, short, or somewhere in between? They’re short. I never trim them with a nail cutter, though; I just tear(?)/pull(?) them out myself. It’s also an anxiety bit as I like to fiddle with my nails when I’m feeling stressed or bored.

What's the newest item in your make-up bag? I have never bought makeup. Bea did get me lip balm from her recent Seoul trip if that counts as makeup?

Is there anyone who 'likes' a lot of your posts online, but you don't talk? Sure.

Who was the last person to 'like' one of your photos on social media? How did you meet that person? That would be Jaynie. I think we met in Grade 2? Quickly became close as we were seatmates and always had recess and lunch together, until she transferred schools in Grade 5 and we didn’t talk for a very long time. The reason we were able to reconnect two years ago is pretty unsurprising – we both turned out to be ARMY. We both watched Yoongi in Bangkok (albeit different dates) and funnily enough were on the same flight back to Manila, which was the first time we had seen each other in 15 years.

Have you eaten a sandwich at any time recently? What was the filling? Yeah I had some kind of chicken katsu sandwich from a Malaysian 7-Eleven.

What was the last sound you heard, that you found unpleasant? My mom nagging on me earlier tonight – she'd been pretty short with me in particular this entire day for whatever reason, but that bit was the last straw my patience could possibly handle for a day and I immediately went upstairs for the night after that.

Does the shirt you're wearing have any kind of pattern on it? I wouldn’t call it a pattern but it has a pretty dope design! It’s half-green and half-white and is split in the middle, both front and back. Looks like this:

Do you use a notebook? What does the cover look like? I don’t.

Have you ever spilled nail varnish on anything you owned? Nope. Never in danger of that as I don’t own any nail products anyway.

What was the last song that you recall singing along to? Take Two, BTS.

Do you have a box of matches anywhere in your house? Yes, we keep them around in case the power goes out.

Is there anything that you plan to buy in the near future? Nothing any time soon as I plan on doubling down on savings after my trips. Apparently my family is planning a trip to Incheon for Christmas too so I need to save for that as well so that my visa application can look decent.

Have you experienced any pain or discomfort today? Earlier today I scratched my nose a tad strongly so that stung for a few minutes.

What made you feel cheerful today? Went to UP to have lunch, BIG YAY as I haven’t been there since December; then livestreamed Yoongi’s Seoul concert which everyone thought was the last in his tour until he announced 3 additional shows in Seoul this August. :D Who knows, I might get a JJK1 announcement tonight too????? WE’LL SEE IN 22 MINUTES

[howsit-going-toend]

Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down) Pt. 7

A Kwon Jiyong x Reader AU series featuring Kim Jiwon and Choi Seunghyun

Genre: Crime/Mafia/ANGST

Word count: 4,700+

Summary: You joined the police force years ago to help clean up the streets of Seoul and rid the city of organized crime. You’ve seen some shit. You’re surely prepared for anything…but how are you supposed to feel when the big bad crime boss you’ve been after turns out to be a familiar (to say the least) face?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

(A/N: WOW it’s been a while. Buckle up because this one’s a doozie. Doosie?...Duzey? Anyway, this part finally breaks down the past and lays it all out there. I’m truly happy with this and I hope you all understand why it took so long to finally post/write. As always, enjoy!)

Eleven Years Ago

“And his laugh! Oh my god, don’t get me started about that damn laugh.” You groaned, taking a sip of wine before imitating a laugh that sounded a little too much like Tommy Wiseau.

Jiyong covered his mouth with the back of his hand, chuckling uncontrollably at the impression of your now-ex boyfriend.

“See, THAT’s genuine laughter! You know why? Because I’m hilarious god damnit.” You took another frustrated sip.

“Y/N, I know you’re kind of worked up, but maybe slow it down there.” Jiyong suggested between his giggles.

It was your nineteenth birthday; the day you were finally of legal drinking age and the same day that you decided to break up with your most recent boyfriend. The two of you dated for just a little over three months. To you, it was three months that you hardly paid attention to, focusing more on yourself and finishing your first year of university and feeling as though texting him back was more of an obligation than a joy. You decided to break things off before getting too serious. But evidently, to him, the last three months were nothing short of incredible.

You assumed your words would be met with immediate acceptance; the end that was inevitable from the beginning. But no. He was devastated. And after he drove away, and you immediately felt like garbage, you took a quick trip to pick up a bottle of wine and call your best friend over.

It was the first time Jiyong had seen your apartment, since the two of you got accepted to different universities. Here he was after gladly tossing aside his own deadlines and driving the two and a half hours it took to reach you. His parents always said “Jiyong would cross oceans for Y/N at any hour of the day or night,” and they knew you would do the same in a heartbeat.

You’d known each other since you were children, so it didn’t surprise you when Jiyong made a comment on you drinking that reverted back to more of an older brother mentality.

“Hey, uh, how about maybe you don’t tell me what to do?” You replied with your sassiest expression.

“My bad, I forgot who I was talking to.” He smiled, taking a sip from his own glass. “So why’d you do it today anyway?”

You groaned. “Because he was planning to take me to some wine and food festival tomorrow that was probably going to be super expensive. And knowing how long I’ve been debating on breaking up with him, I knew it had to be today. But I didn’t expect him to bring me gifts too! I tried to emphasize to him so many times that I don’t like presents and yet he brought some up tonight.”

Jiyong smirked. “Wow he wanted to buy you gifts. He sounds awful. Good riddance!”

“Ji, I swear t-.”

“I’m kidding! You shouldn’t be expected to reciprocate feelings just because the guy buys you things. What did he try to give you?”

You winced thinking back to just a few hours prior to this. “A pair of slippers, some fancy candles, and this foot scrub because ‘you always said your feet hurt.’ But he gave it all to me after I broke up with him so of course, he said that to me with his head down like I just kicked a puppy. Also just putting it out there that I’ve literally never said that to him about my feet.”  

You paused to let out a frustrated exhale and drink a little more. “But the worst was honestly the cupcake. I was pacing in my room before he got here, trying not to lose my nerve because I felt so bad already. Then he emerges from his car and walks towards my door with a stupid cupcake. One with a single lit candle that he was holding his hand up around to keep the air from blowing it out. When he got to me, I said ‘oh no, you didn’t have to do that.’ And he laughed and said ‘yes!’ Then I basically leaned over, blew the candle out and said ‘No really, you shouldn’t have done that. Listen, I’ve been thinking about this for a while.”

“Y/N!” Jiyong laughed out loud, failing to cover it up with his hand once again in attempts not to ridicule this poor boy. “That’s borderline cruel. You said it before he could even get inside?”

“I had to! It’s my birthday and I needed to.” You stated and took a long last sip of your glass.

“No, I know. I know. But you know what I’m going to say.” He smirked.

You stuck your index finger out at him. “Don’t. Don’t say it.” You got up to get a refill and shouted once you reached the kitchen. “I mean it!”

“Ok… how about I call you heartbreaker instead?” He squeezed his eyes shut, silencing a chuckle, knowing the look you were about to give him once you returned to the couch.

You didn’t disappoint. You blew around the corner, almost spilling your new glass just to stare him down. “Oh you want to throw that word around? If anyone deserves that nickname it’s you and you know it!”

“Wow, didn’t even bother to ask if I needed a refill.” He pouted.

“Yeah, well too bad. Don’t avoid that title!”

He chuckled, knowing he hadn’t lost his touch with successfully pushing all the right buttons. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He sprang up from the couch to reach the wine.

“Of course you don’t… What about that girl you were telling me about a while back? You haven’t said a word about her since you’ve been here. You already broke up with her, didn’t you! Let’s point the right fingers here.”

“All right, yeah, I did.” He uttered from the kitchen over the sound of his glass filling.

“Ha!”

“On her birthday.”

You nearly choked on your own drink. “Ji, what the hell!”

“Kidding! Stop taking everything I say so seriously. Who are you?” He returned to the couch with a plop, gracefully avoiding spilling anything. “It was Valentine’s Day.”

You narrowed your eyes. “I hate you sometimes.”

You bantered back and forth for a couple more hours, polishing off the bottle of wine before making a quick on-foot journey to get another. It finally being your nineteenth birthday created a nice change to you and Jiyong’s usual strategy involving you entering a store separately; you purchasing snacks while he dilly dallies around the alcohol aisle, waiting for you to leave. Tonight, the two of you could blissfully waltz up and down the place without a worry.

You were all too eager to show your ID to the cashier when it was time to pay. “Bam!” You stated before the man could even finish asking you for it, making Jiyong smack his forehead with the palm of his hand.

“Do you think he knows?” You whispered as he held the door open for you, referencing your slight drunkenness in the least stealthy way possible.

“Well, I’m sure he does now.” He laughed.  

The two of you walked back to your apartment, giddy from the wine you’d already consumed meanwhile anticipating the next bottle and arsenal of snacks that you were about to. You were blissfully drunk, with a full stomach, before you knew it. All along, you both babbled on with random life updates littered among childhood memories. There was no birthday celebration that could compare to this.

“Oh hey, you brought up the record player!” Jiyong exclaimed, having made his way to the corner of your living room; where you stored all the hand-me-down vinyls you’d both grown up listening to.  

“Nope that’s a new one actually. My aunt bought it for me before I moved out. She actually said ‘you can’t have mine but this one looks like it, ok?’”

You both laughed. “I actually saw her last weekend when I visited my parents.” Jiyong said as he ran his index finger along the edges of every vinyl.

“Awh, you did? God she was probably so happy to see you. When I visit, I just get scolded for not calling enough.” You rolled your eyes in fake annoyance.

“Listen, it’s the same thing when I see my parents. If you visit them, they’re both so cheery, especially my mom.” Jiyong laughed.

You beamed. “I love your mom! Does she ask about me?”

“Literally every time I’m home. She and Dami always ask when we’re getting married.”

“My aunt does the same thing!” You started laughing in hysteric unison. Your families always wanted you to end up together and they’d brought it up for years; always giving the two of you something to laugh about.

Jiyong shook his head and smiled as he pulled out a record, having finally decided to put some music on. “All right. We’ve got to play this throwback.”

“You know: Technically they’re all throwbacks. Neither of us were alive when any of thes-.” You stopped and laughed drunkenly at the look he turned to give you for the stupid remark.

“Oh wait wait!” You announced when a certain record got your attention. “I think we should put this one on and reliv-.”

“Nooo no!” He brushed your hand away from reaching for The Temptations’ “My Girl.”

“Oh come on, Ji. I’m the only one here. Please! Just do the dance, you don’t have to sing!” You begged.

He rolled his eyes and stepped aside. “Fine. You better not record this though.” He held out his pinky to you with narrowed eyes; what might as well be a binding contract with how you both treasured it in the past. You hooked your pinky around his and used your other hand to place your phone down. “Promise.”

He took to a position that offered the most open space while you dropped the needle on the outside of the record. As the song began, you crossed your arms and stared at him with a huge smile as he reluctantly began to step back and forth.

I’ve got sunshine, on a cloudy day

When it’s cold outside, I’ve got the month of May…

It was a performance perfectly reenacted from when you were kids; you were five and he was hardly seven. It was one of his mom’s most cherished home movies; little Jiyong performing his heart out at a family party, winning the hearts of all those around as he danced this adorable doo wop routine while gesturing to you with a bright smile.

Tonight was only a little different; that bright smile being replaced with one of red cheeked embarrassment as he extended an arm to you on each “My girl!” line. You snapped your fingers along, amused at how he remembered just about every step. When the song came to an end, you cheered and clapped proudly.

“All right, all right. We’re done with that!” He exclaimed, diving back into the rows of vinyl.

You both agreed to assemble a playlist; taking turns stacking your favorite singles out beside the turntable, one on top of the other, ready to be played in that order. Each one had a different memory attached to it that would light both of your faces with nostalgia within their first few seconds.

“Ah, ‘Ain’t No Mountain High Enough!’” You exclaimed as Jiyong’s next choice began to play. “Your mom used to play this when she took us to school in the morning, right?”

His smile expanded as he started to lipsync along.

Listen baby,

Ain’t no mountain high, ain’t no valley low

Ain’t no river wide enough, baby

You started to snap your fingers back and forth before you joined in on your part.

If you need me, call me

No matter where you are, no matter how far

Jiyong extended an arm out to you dramatically: Don’t worry baby

You grabbed his hand and spun into his arms just in time for the chorus. Giggles escaped your chest, preventing either of you from continuing to sing along. This closeness was nothing out of the ordinary for you two. You’d danced together like that for as long as you can remember. Your fingers intertwined with smiles so wide they’d hurt if you weren’t a little intoxicated; it was harmless.

When the song came to an end and your next choice was readied, you naturally returned to each other’s arms. This time was a slow song, but neither of you missed a beat.

Put your head on my shoulder

You smiled at each other once more before obeying the opening lyric. You lowered your head to rest comfortably above his collarbone while the two of you swayed back and forth. “God, what a song.” You grinned.

“I know. This song’s helped me put the moves on someone at least three different times.”

You lightly smacked his chest, making him laugh. “Shut up.” You sighed back into him and closed your eyes. “I swear though, wine and slow dancing go together too well. And this is the best song for it.”

“Really? Better than Elvis? I don’t think you really believe that.” He argued. You lifted your head to see him holding his index finger up towards you, silently telling you to wait a second. He scurried back to the collection. He found what he was looking for in seconds, grinning widely at you over his shoulder before interrupting Paul Anka.

You smiled sadly at him as the gentle acoustic guitar came in and he pulled you closer once again. “Aw, Ji you’re gonna make me cry.”

Love me tender, love me sweet

Never let me go

It was your favorite record. And he knew this better than anyone. You’d fallen in love with it ever since your aunt showed you your parents’ wedding reception video. Their first dance as one being to none other than Elvis Presley.

Love me tender, love me true

All my dreams fulfilled

You removed your hands from Jiyong’s and instead wrapped your arms around his neck. He moved his own arms to hold you just barely above the waist, bringing you even closer together. You nestled your head into his shoulder once again, allowing the song to run away with your emotions. He hummed along to each line, creating a soothing vibration against your cheek

“Are you crying yet?” He whispered.

“No.” You whispered back. “I’m smiling.”

He chuckled softly. “Me too.”

Love me tender, love me dear

Tell me you are mine

As your favorite lyric soon began to close out the song, you lifted your head to look at him. Maybe it was the wine, or the late hour, or just the sheer romance of Elvis’ voice, but you really looked at him.

It felt like the first time you had ever seen just how dark his hair was. Or how many different shades of brown made up his eyes, and how well his brows complimented them. Stubble lightly dusted across his cupid’s bow and cupped around his chin, making you wonder if you’d ever actually seen him with facial hair before. His full lips made you smile wider, remembering the awkward dinner moment when you’d met his first girlfriend, and she’d said Jiyong and you have the same lips. His were pulled perfectly from either end, making the smile you’ve known the best all these years.

You realized he was analyzing your features as well, making you giggle in embarrassment.

“What are we doing?” You whispered.

Without missing a beat, keeping perfectly in line with the last few guitar chords, Jiyong and you both made a move that neither of you had ever expected to make. Somehow in that millisecond of silence, your minds came to the same conclusion. Quickly, but softly, your lips met.

The only remaining sound in the room was the low muffle of the turntable, serving to amplify just how exhilarating of a moment this was. You’d never pictured yourself kissing Jiyong before, and your present self couldn’t possibly imagine why.

His lips moved with yours in perfect synchronicity, gentle and warm but also eager to take lead and set a perfect pace, like the dance you’d just finished. Beads of sweat began to form at your hairline as you felt one of his hands cup your cheek, before tracing just below your ear and firmly hold the back of your neck.

You were swooning, entirely enthralled in him. Whatever this feeling was, it was completely alien to you. You didn’t even care that it was Jiyong. You were honestly impressed. As your best friend, and the person who knows you the best in this world, just how the fuck did he know you’ve always wanted to be kissed this way? All this made you smile into the kiss. You felt him smile back before reforming his lips to yours, taking shapes that felt all too natural.

To both of your dismay, it didn’t last forever. You returned to Earth after one or two last pecks, ending it with your foreheads pressed together. You lifted your gazes to meet one another, giving an identical look of wonder.

As you stared at him, he lowered his lips to yours once more. This time was just a simple, soft peck. You both kept your eyes open; joined in awe that this moment was real.

And that’s how it happened. There wasn’t anything remotely awkward about it. The following morning, when the booze had completely worn off and all of your senses restored, the two of you simply laughed, before holding each other tight. There was never any talk of “so, now what?” or “what does this make us?” You both just knew.

And it was the easiest thing that your hearts had ever accepted.

It was your little secret for a few months; keeping the official beginning just between the two of you to ensure it really was what you both wanted. After everything was settled, you had your fun slowly sharing the news with your family and friends. Jiyong would playfully argue that you might have had a little too much fun with it. But their looks of surprise and heart bursting excitement would stick with you forever.

You’d take turns joking about how stupid you were to never realize it sooner: being together just made sense. Your friends and family always knew. (Your exes most definitely always knew.) As cliché as it seemed, you both had just been looking for love everywhere but right in front of you.

You both soon finished out your undergraduate degrees. You were this close to finishing the same semester as him, but in true Jiyong fashion: he beat you to it and finished early. Following your graduations you bought a puppy (a gift from you to him; he immediately named him Gaho) and moved in to an apartment together; something that surprisingly took very little convincing from Jiyong’s parents. (He’d claim there wouldn’t have been a damn chance if it was anyone but you) You were allowed to live in sin so long as you both moved back to Seoul and entered solid internships.

All along you treated each other better than any partner either of you had ever had; demonstrating incredible patience as you learned and grew together in ways you’d never imagined. Family members would boast about the two of you proudly, while close friends would fight the urge to scowl jealously. It was borderline sickening just how natural and blissful everything truly was. They made up some of the best four years of your life.

And never, in your wildest nightmares, did you ever think they would end.

“I’m home!” You announced.

You hummed to yourself as you slipped off your shoes and hung up your coat. The law firm had finally granted you an easy Friday workload, and you had all intentions of using the next couple of days to celebrate.

“Ji, are you here?” You spoke up as you made your way to the kitchen so that, if there, he could hear you from the bedroom. You hadn’t heard from him all day, but that was nothing out of the ordinary; lately his own internship had been especially demanding of his time. He was probably still at the office. You sighed sympathetically and decided some soup would be a nice surprise for him.

“Gaho!” You called, assuming the wrinkly monster was sound asleep in the other room. You reached for the notepad and pen attached to the fridge and began thinking of just how much you would need to pick up before Jiyong got home.

You tapped the pen on the notepad as you looked around the kitchen. You opened cupboard after cupboard, noticing just how much needed to be replenished. “Aish, did he make stew for the whole building today?” You rolled your eyes before writing down each missing ingredient.

“Gaho! Come here!” You repeated, knowing he usually slept as heavily as Jiyong. Shaking his food usually does the trick. You thought to yourself with a smile.

But as you walked over to its usual location you stopped. “Oh come on, we can’t be out of his food too. I swear we just bought some.” You put your hands on your hips out of frustration. “Awh, Gaho, I’m sorry. I hope you have at least something left in your bowl.” You muttered to yourself as you turned the corner out of the kitchen to check.

“Ok, this is weird.” Your brows furrowed. His bowls were gone. You checked the sink and saw no sign of them. Your pulse quickened as you speed walked to the bedroom.

“Gaho?” You called, hoping to see a pile of wrinkles on his bed or hear the sound of his little nails tapping on the hardwood floor. But as you stood in the doorway, his bed was nowhere in sight.

Your chest began to hurt as tears budded beneath your eyes. Gaho had spent weekends at Jiyong’s parents’ house before and even with your aunt. But you knew this weekend was never discussed to be one of them. And even if it was, they had bowls and a bed for him there. Something must have happened. You frantically reached for your phone and dialed Jiyong.

No answer.

“Ji. Ji, please call me. I don’t know where Gaho is. Please tell me you know.” Your voice shook as you left the message. There wasn’t a single sign of a break-in either. Or at least none that you were aware of.

You started pacing in the living room, thinking of all the possible scenarios. Whoever took him must have taken all that food too. You wouldn’t expect burglars to steal vegetables and bean paste, and leave behind the flatscreen, but it was the only explanation. You sped to the bedroom closet, fearing for your and Jiyong’s safes.

As you illuminated the walk-in space, the sight before you brought you to your knees. Everything on your side remained unruffled and unbothered. Nothing was even close to being out of place. Even your safe and few pieces of jewelry. But on Jiyong’s side, every last item was gone.

Every suit, every pair of pants and shoes, and even every fucking hanger was missing. As you gazed at the storage space above his side, and saw no sign of his luggage either, you collapsed.

“What the fuck.” You cried out, shaking and sobbing from uncertainty. You reached a trembling hand for your phone and tried calling him once again.

No answer.

You threw it to the side and somehow managed to pull yourself to your feet. You walked slowly to the bathroom, silently repeating “No, no, no…” to yourself. You closed your eyes as you turned the light on, nowhere near ready for what was there.

Every product, every personal hygiene tool, even his toothbrush, everything that was his: gone. And once again, whatever was yours, remained untouched. You gasped out loud and covered your mouth as sobs pulled themselves out of you. This had to be some kind of sick joke. It just had to be.

As you turned back to face the bedroom you saw through cloudy eyes the very last thing that you didn’t want to see. The item that debunked the miniscule shred of hope you were clinging to; that someone just had to have broken in so cleanly and so precisely, cleaning out everything that belonged to Jiyong, including Gaho and all of his belongings as well. You could have hung onto that ridiculous scenario for just a little while longer if you didn’t see it. There on the bed laying perfectly, and all too intentionally, was a folded piece of paper.

This time, when your body crumbled to the floor, it stayed there for nearly half an hour. You couldn’t stop crying. And for the life of you, you couldn’t move a muscle. When you finally found the strength to, you crawled to your phone. Before illuminating the screen, you begged the universe to grant you at least one text message from him.

Nothing.

You spent the next couple of hours there on the floor, endlessly sobbing and making phone call after phone call; each one feeling more useless than the last.

When you finally got a hold of yourself, you instead called a friend that lived nearby and begged her to come over. You spent that night, and the following week, at her place. It took that long for you to even walk back into that apartment. And it took even longer for you to finally read that letter.

“I love you too much to allow you to be put through what I’m going to put you through. I’m so fucking sorry. Take care of yourself and  please: be the person you want to be. -Jiyong”

You ripped it into shreds on the spot. That was it. That was the only glimpse of an explanation that he ever granted you. Just like that, he left.

And you were never the same.

His disappearance came just as much of a shock to everyone else. No one could make sense of it. Not his parents, or even his best friends. They were all furious with him and could hardly speak about it. No one could give you answers.

And that’s all you tried to obtain for the next year: just some fucking answers. You were desperate and angry, lonely and above all you were ungodly depressed. When you couldn’t find him yourself you waited. You waited for so long. You lived each day as if it would be the one that he’d come back through the front door and back into your life.

But it never came.

You became self-destructive, going through every stage of grief at least three separate times. All along you begged the universe to show you even just one reason. Anything that could have shown what the fuck you did that was so wrong. Just come back and tell me why. You mumbled this phrase to yourself a million times, and when family and friends grew worried you mumbled it to psychiatrists a million times more.

It was some of the worst and most confusing pain you’d ever experienced. You endured it for nearly two years, until one cathartic appointment allowed you to finally accept it. You were done waiting. You couldn’t bring yourself to forgive him. But you had to get your life back.

You met Jiwon the following week. It was the very same week that you decided to change your focus back to your childhood dreams. You didn’t want to be a lawyer. (Though you ended up marrying one) You wanted to be a badass detective.

You now thought deeply about everything that had changed in just seven years.

You stared at Jiyong through the one way mirror completely stone faced, trying your hardest not to laugh at the fucked up irony. Even though you didn’t know it until that night in the warehouse, when he’d reignited that deep emotional pain with a matching physical pain at the hand of his crony you realized: you’d never truly stopped looking for him.

And now, seeing him sitting there before you, wanting your superior’s attention and wishing to make a deal with your boss…your rage was unfathomable.

[jungcupid-archive]

these spaces, our space

pairing: jimin x jungkook 

summary: jimin has friends and then jimin has friends. he’s still not quite sure if jungkook qualifies to be in either category. (very loosely inspired by that one episode of how i met your mother - you’ll know what i mean soon)

chapter: 1/?

+

“One week, Jimin. I’m sorry it had to come to this,” Jimin’s landlord gives him a sympathetic look. The 6th floor is silent on Monday nights, as you’d expect it to be. Tonight is no different. The low hum of electricity is the soundtrack of Jimin’s life at this point, lively chatter or loud music has become unfamiliar to him. He doesn’t know of a life before dim lighting and scratchy carpets, before odours undefinable but prominent nonetheless. But there stands his landlord, breaths falling in a pattern so familiar to him, yet everything about this feels wrong.

  “Jimin,” Mr. Ahn says softly. He sighs when Jimin stares at the paper that’s being put into his hands. The younger boy’s bangs fall over his eyes as he reads the text, and he’s suddenly grateful his expression is hidden – he tries to ignore the stinging in his eyes.

 “I can’t do this anymore, I’ve given you time. I’m sorry,” And with that, the man limps off into the oddly yellow lights, grunting as he reaches the staircase. He moves slowly, but eventually he is out of Jimin’s sight. There are several words written on the sheet that had been handed to him, but there’s only a few Jimin really processes. Termination, vacate, failure to pay rent.

“I’m sorry it had to come to this.”

Not as sorry as I am, Jimin thinks bitterly to himself. He rubs his eyes with his fist and turns into his apartment, shutting the door behind him carelessly. He hopes everyone on the floor can hear him. The tube light barely counts as “lit” inside, it’s flickering incessantly, hurting Jimin’s eyes more than usual. When he’d first moved in, he hadn’t bothered taking it up with the landlord. He’d just been grateful that he had a place to stay. He was scared and young, and very much in need of shelter.

  4 months and a bad migraine problem later, he definitely has a few things to say.

  The window is open and although the day is dead, the city is not. Horns are blaring and Jimin can hear a woman yelling something about catcalling and men are fucking pussies that’s why!. He doesn’t usually keep the window open, but Jimin had woken up this morning to soft sunlight and a warm feeling running through his body, it had been his one day off. So he’d opened up the window, letting the dust out, and he’d gone about cleaning up the place.

   Goes to show what you get for good maintenance.

   Jimin shuffles to his bed and winces as it creaks beneath his weight, he rolls over onto his stomach and hopes to bury his thoughts into the pillow along with his face. He didn’t have a bad landlord, really, he didn’t. Mr. Ahn had been generous and patient, he’d understood Jimin’s financial situation. Only a matter of time before he grew frustrated, Jimin supposed. The notice paper is lying somewhere beside him, but Jimin can’t find it in himself to care. For now, he closes his eyes, breathing in the smell of turpentine (which had long since taken over all matter in his apartment), and let’s the folds of unconsciousness swaddle him.

-

  Jimin’s alarm goes off at 6:15 AM.

  He calls in sick to both of his jobs at 6:17 AM.

 The bed is welcoming, and as much as Jimin wants nothing more than to curl up and sleep for 12 hours straight, he has work to do. So, he throws his phone off to one side, and goes to shower.

  “What the fuck?” Jimin mutters to himself lowly, leafing through his contacts book. “Do I not have a life or something?”

   Everyone listed in his book is either family, someone he hasn’t talked to in years, or a professional that is solely in the book for emergencies (read: a doctor). Jimin shoves the Lucky Charms in his mouth and scowls, flipping through another page so violently that a few paintbrushes that had been left on the table roll off to the side. Family is out of the question, Jimin had left his home years ago to move to Seoul and pursue his art career – which his parents hadn’t been supportive of, naturally. He’d endured months and months of sheer torture as his parents begged him to come home, told him he’d never succeed, threatened to cut off their financial support, and finally, cut him off completely. He hasn’t talked to them in over a year. What would Jimin even say if he called them now?

  Mom, Dad, hey! Long time no contact whatsoever! So, anyways, just wanted to tell you that you were right! I can’t make it in this world without your financial support! And I’m never going to succeed as an artist! In fact, I got kicked out of school within the first 4 months! Now I’m getting kicked out of my apartment too.. so.. will you help me? Love you!

  Yeah, no.

  Jimin slams the contact book onto the table in frustration and pushes his cereal away. Does he really have no life outside of his small circle of friends? After getting kicked out of school, Jimin had been too stubborn to return home, despite his family’s countless requests to do so. He’d lived in someone’s basement for a while, working multiple jobs until he’d saved up to take an oil painting course in a University nearby. The 5 months he’d spent there had to have been some of the best months of his life, not only had he learned a shit ton, but he’d felt like he was finally moving forward in his life.

  Of course, all good things must come to an end.

   When he’d finished the course, he realized he had nowhere to live anymore. The dorms were only open to students, and Jimin was no longer allowed entry. He’d spent nearly all his savings into this one course, and he was scared. So, so scared.  When he’d found Mr. Ahn, a man in his late fifties very much willing to help, Jimin had almost cried. In fact, he had cried. He’d hugged the man and thanked him over and over again, promising to not let him down.

  The agreement was simple, he’d get two months grace to start paying for the place. In the meantime, he wouldn’t have anyone breathing down his neck for money. Jimin had gotten two different jobs and had worked hard, but it was hard. Of course it was hard. He could barely pay the rent while also being able to feed himself, luxuries such as new clothes were non-existent, and when he did have the occasional Treat Yourself Bitch thought, he’d splurge on art supplies (which was never good, seeing as how expensive one tube of paint could be). He didn’t have time for making new friends, or going out to have fun, he needed to make sure he could keep a roof over his head. Of course, nothing had really worked out for him in the end. That’s exactly why he was in this situation now, surrounded by nothing more than strewn canvases and misery.

   The last 2 months had been tough, Jimin had been struggling to pay even less than half of what he was supposed to. He sighs, leaning over onto the table, head resting on his arms. Why does everything have to be so fucked up? Why can’t he just be rich? Or have a sugar daddy? Or be rich AND have a sugar daddy? He groans, getting up to put his bowl away, then makes for the phone he’d left on his bed.

  Desperate times call for desperate measures.

  Most of Jimin’s friends are better off than him, so of course he feels guilty asking them for help. He’s been reassured many times, of course, with quiet Please don’t feel like you’re a burden Jiminie’s and You’re our friend. Why wouldn’t we help you?’s. But Jimin can’t help it, he feels like he’s taking advantage of his friends. That’s why he hesitates when he goes through his phone, thumb hovering over a contact. He squeezes his eyes shut and releases a breath, hitting the call button.

  “Jimin!”

 Jimin’s missed Taehyung’s lovely voice, it always manages to hold such excitement for the smallest of things, “Taehyung, hi! We haven’t spoken in forever, wow.” A nervous giggle escapes him and he almost slaps himself. What is he? A middle schooler?

  Okay, so maybe Jimin has a tiny crush on this particular friend of his, so what?

 “You’re telling me! Why don’t you call anymore?” Jimin can practically see Taehyung pouting at this point, “When I’m back in town, we’re definitely going out. With everyone! God I wish my firm would give me a break already, I feel like I haven’t slept in months.”

 Jimin nods sagely even though Taehyung can’t see him, plopping down on his bed, “I know the feeling, trust me. I may not be a hotshot lawyer,” – this prompts an oh, shut up in his ear – “but I’m working so many shifts that I think I’ve become one. I don’t have eyebags, Tae, my whole face is an eyebag.”

   Taehyung is laughing on the other side, and Jimin smiles, for a moment he forgets what he initially called for. He’s missed talking to his friends. He misses all of them, the last few months he’d been stuck in an endless loop of eat, work, sleep, repeat. He just wants his life back.

  Jimin’s eyes land on the piece of paper lying harmlessly on his mattress and he snaps back to reality in an instant, clearing his throat before he speaks.

  “Listen, I know you’re busy, so I won’t keep you for long. I,” Jimin really, really hates himself, “I need your help, if possible. I’m so sorry, I really don’t want to drag you down or anything but do you think I could maybe stay with you when you get back? I could find something temporary until then and of course, you would be temporary as well but-“

 “Wait, slow down, Jiminie. What’s up with your place? Are you getting terminated? If it’s a Quit Notice, legally you should be getting 3-5 days notice,” Taehyung’s voice is calm and firm, it’s his Lawyer Voice, as their friends have dubbed it.

  “Yeah, I.. I got a week’s notice. I don’t know where I’m going to stay, honestly. I’m just, I’m sorry, I’m sure you don’t want someone hanging around your house,” Jimin’s insides are twisting with guilt already, his palms are sweaty.

  “No, Jimin, I would love to have you. But I’m not going to be back for weeks, and it’s going to be hard for you to find a place for the time being. I would let you stay there now, but my place is undergoing reconstruction. You know how I was telling you about wanting new flooring done? I decided to leave one of my friends up to it while I was out of town. I’m sorry but I don’t think I can help you out this time around, Jiminie. Although, if he files a lawsuit to evict, I’m your guy,” Taehyung sounds apologetic and Jimin wants to tell him it’s okay, but really, it’s not. Because he’d thought Taehyung was going to be the one person who’d be able to help.

  He wants to cry.

  A few murmured thank you’s and it’s okay, bye’s later, Jimin is back where he started. He sniffs and tries not to bawl like his 3 year old cousin, going through his phone again. Yoongi’s name pops up, and Jimin hesitates. Jimin’s known the elder since they were young, they’d practically grown up together and know everything about each other, and this is why he hesitates. Because Jimin is well aware of Yoongi’s crushing debt, he’d finally graduated and gotten his Masters in Psychology but the several years at school had built up, and along with them, his student loans.

  Jimin was used to hearing Yoongi complain about the stress of paying back all that money at least once whenever they spoke, and so Jimin wasn’t so sure about asking Yoongi. The other had a tiny apartment, on top of everything else.

  It’s getting harder and harder for Jimin to keep his hopes up, and he contemplates calling Yoongi one last time before he decides that he’ll do it, he has no other choice.

  It goes down quick. Yoongi offers his place for Jimin to temporarily stay, Jimin’s gut twists with guilt, he says no.

  The call ends soon after that, and Jimin takes in a deep breath, closing his eyes and trying to relax his body. He crosses his legs and sits with a straight back on his bed, thinking through his options.

  Taehyung was a no-go, as was Yoongi. Namjoon and Jin were two possible options, but they’re Yoongi’s friends from University which means Jimin has seen enough of them to know that he’d only be intruding if he lived with him. Also, he’s not sure he can handle the two of them throwing each other dreamy looks without having either one actually make a fucking move. It was infuriating, but Yoongi had told him to leave it alone the first time he’d mentioned it. So he did, and meanwhile, he wondered just how oblivious two people could be.  

   Hoseok was just as broke as he was. He worked with Jimin at the diner, and they’d become quick friends, keeping each other good company when night shifts were especially slow. Jimin had learned that Hoseok was taking on the job due to student loans he had to pay back from his few years at Seoul Arts. Apparently, the boy was quite the dancer and he’d even built up a name for himself underground back home. Jimin called bullshit every time, watching with mirth in his eyes as Hoseok got riled up and defensive over his preferred art. He still remembered he’d invited the other to go out with him, Yoongi, Namjoon and Jin. They’d gone clubbing and Hoseok had singlehandedly wiped the dancefloor with every single person who had the nerve to come up to him, and this was when he was drunk. Jimin secretly idolized the older boy.

  As they’re in similar financial situations (and Hoseok barely fit into his own apartment), Jimin rules out that option as well. That leaves him with one last person.

  Jimin wants to chuck himself off the balcony, refusing to believe it has come to this. But he has no other choice, so he scrolls nearly all the way down to find one name that makes him uncomfortable just looking at it.

  Jeon Jungkook.

 This was going to be just great.

+

[xofanfics]

Dawn - Part 1

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Genre: angst, fluff

Pairing: Reader x Mingyu ; Reader x Junhui

Word Count: 2k

Summary: You find out you’re pregnant after you and your boyfriend break up.

You were hot, sweaty, and exhausted from sex. It was the first time in a couple weeks that you’d been intimate.

The two of you laid there naked, in his bed, bodies entangled in his crisp grey sheets. You stared at the ceiling but you could feel him looking at you. The room was silent, only filled with the sounds of your breathing.

He rolled over onto his side and said, “I’m sorry, Y/N…”

You rolled over to face him. “Sorry for what?”

“For not loving you the way you need to be loved.”

You knew it was coming so you just waited for him to say the words that you knew he’d say. “So, what are you saying?”

“Let’s break up…”

He wanted to love you. He did love you. But, at the same time, he couldn’t love you.

Mingyu broke up with you because he didn’t know what else to do. He couldn’t give you what you wanted or needed. He’d only keep hurting you. He didn’t know why he was like this. He wanted to make you happy but he couldn’t.

He asked you to stay the night with him after that and he held you until you fell asleep. You didn’t realize how upset he was from breaking up with you. You had no idea that he shed tears while you were sleeping.

Maybe one day he’d get back to his old, easy-going self but he didn’t even know who he was anymore. He didn’t want to drag you down with him by staying together. He’d only hurt you and make you cry. Maybe one day you could be together and he could love you the way you needed but he couldn’t manage to do that now. He couldn’t give you what you needed. He felt like a failure as a man and as a boyfriend.

In the morning, when he woke up, you were gone. The side of the bed that you slept on was cold; you left hours ago. He considered calling you, to tell you that he didn’t mean it and that he needed you back. He even started to dial your number but he stopped himself, tossing his phone onto the other side of the bed.

His heart felt heavy in his chest. A tear ran down his cheek and fell onto his sheets, followed by another. And another.

Breaking up was the only way he could make you happy. You deserved someone better than him, someone who could love you better. He wanted you to be happy, even if that happiness was a result of another man in your life.

Your breakup was over two weeks ago. It hadn’t registered at first, not until you left his apartment early in the morning. You didn’t know why he decided to sleep with you, only to break up right after. As far as you could see, it didn’t help anything. Was his having sex with you his last attempt to feel something.

For some reason, you didn’t feel as sad as the average person might be upon a breakup, but you didn’t feel that way. Maybe you weren’t upset because you knew it was coming. Maybe you weren’t upset because you knew that he didn’t feel the same as he did. Either way, you didn’t spend your time screaming and crying over a relationship that was beyond saving.

The first week was hard without Mingyu. You questioned everything, wondering if he ever loved you in the first place.You were numb for the first couple of days and then, one day, you broke down in tears. You cried because you loved him, because you knew that it was really over, and because there was nothing you could do to make him love you the way you loved him.

You left it alone. You didn’t call him and he didn’t call you. You didn’t try to see him and he didn’t try to see you. Part of you wondered if he still thought about you. But you figured that he didn’t if you hadn’t spoken since that day. He hadn’t even bothered to get his things from you. They were still sitting in a bin at the back of your closet. You figured he must not want them if he hadn’t contacted you. One of his favorite sweatshirts were in the box. But clearly he didn’t care about it much.

You sighed as you got dressed. Your best friend, Michelle, was making you go out, insisting that you meet her friend that was also newly single.

She said, “You’ll like him. His last girlfriend broke up with him like a month ago.”

So here you were, with your best friend, getting ready to go to dinner with your coworkers.

She was saying, “He recently graduated and he has his own place and he said you’re really pretty from when I showed you a picture. Just give him a chance.”

“Fine, fine,” you said, swatting her away, as you shimmied into your jeans.

You walked into the bathroom, grabbing your makeup bag. You hadn’t bothered to wear it in weeks but tonight you figured that if you looked nice, you’d feel better.

Once you were ready, you and Michelle headed to the restaurant. You did feel better after doing your hair and makeup. Maybe this was what you needed to get you out of this emotionless slump you were in. You weren’t heartbroken anymore but you didn’t feel anything. But you felt good tonight. Maybe what you needed was to just get out and do something more than just go to work and come home, mindlessly existing.

Michelle had suggested taking shots before leaving. So both of you took two shots. You supposed that was why you felt good. Either way, you were having a good time and you hadn’t even made it to the restaurant yet. You held Michelle’s hand and walked together.

You said, “I’m glad you invited me to dinner. I know I’ve been kind of a party pooper lately…”

“It’s okay,” she said, putting her arm around your shoulder. “You just got out of a relationship...It’s okay. He’s a jerk anyway. How can he just have sex with you and then break up with you after? And then ask you to stay the night with him? Jun wouldn’t do that to you. He’s really a nice guy.”

“I hope so,” you said, “but I’m not ready for another relationship.”

“I know you’re not ready now,” she said, “but it wouldn’t hurt to meet someone new.”

You and your friend headed inside the restaurant where everyone was waiting. You waved as you approached the table. There were a couple people you went to college with and the unfamiliar face that you assumed to be Jun’s.

Michelle said, “This is my friend, Y/N. Y/N, this is Jun.”

You smiled, “Hi. Nice to meet you, Jun.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” he said, shooting back a small smile.

One of your friends at the end of the table said, “It’s been a while, Y/N. How are you?”

“I’m doing a lot better,” you said.

Jun said, “We ordered pork and beef to start. Are you guys okay with that?”

You and Michelle both nodded. Michelle opened up a menu and, after deciding, ordered dumplings for everyone. The meat came a few minutes later and the guys started grilling pieces of pork.

Jun ordered a bottle of soju and held it up. “Want some?”

“Sure,” you said, chewing on a piece of kimchi.

He poured some in your glass, then in Michelle’s, then his. He waited until everyone filled their glasses and everyone took the shot together, clinking glasses together.

Jun smiled. From what you could see, he was attractive. He had a unique face and you appreciated that he looked a little different.

You asked, “Are you from Korea?”

He shook his head. “I’m from China,” he said. “A city called Shenzhen.”

“How’d you end up here?”

He took the tongs, taking his eyes off of you to help cut pieces of the pork. “I studied abroad here for a semester and liked it a lot,” he explained. “I studied here about a year ago, so when I graduated I applied to a bunch of jobs in Seoul. I was able to get a full-time job here and got my working visa.”

“You sound like you’re enjoying it so far.”

“Yeah,” he said. “It’s been a couple months since I’ve been here. I like it.”

Michelle joined the conversation. “I met Jun at a dinner actually. Since it was crowded, the host asked if we minded sharing a table so we did. I ended up sitting next to Jun and we kind of hit it off. I invited him to dinner with us again and, well, he’s kinda been coming out with us ever since.”

Jun nodded, “I’m surprised I didn’t meet you sooner than this, Y/N…”

You replied, “I guess I was just busy those times.”

Jun smiled and Daeho said, “The meat is ready.”

By the time dinner was finished, you had had a good bit of alcohol in your system. You and your friends stumbled around Seoul after dinner. You winded up at karaoke afterward, losing Daeho, Michelle, and Jisung after it was over. Everyone was suddenly tired at 2am. You figured it was a scheme just to get you two alone but you weren’t complaining.

But you and Jun stayed at karaoke for a little while longer. You had another drink, too. You sang one more song before you sat down with Jun. You were starting to get a little tired yourself.

Jun said, “Are you sleepy? I’m sleepy too…”

With a yawn, you stood up. “We should go home now, right?”

Jun nodded. “I’ll take you home.” He stood up and nearly fell over.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “How about I take you home?”

He joined in your laughter. “Maybe you’re right…”

As you walked out, he said, “I’m sorry I’m like this. I didn’t realize how much I had...”

“It’s okay,” you said, hailing a cab. “Let’s get you home.”

Jun got in the cab first, sliding over to leave space for you. You followed after him, climbing into the car and closing the door. He gave the driver his address and you headed to his neighborhood. You rode in silence. Jun leaned on the window, resting. You saw that his eyes were open but he wasn’t saying anything. You didn’t complain, though.

You helped Jun out of the car when you arrived. He insisted that you didn’t have to take him up to his apartment but you insisted that you did. He didn’t complain, though. He just went with things and you held him around his waist to hold him up. He wasn’t stumbling badly but you didn’t want him to trip or something.

He lead you into his building and to the elevator. You followed him to his apartment and he fumbled in his pockets to get out his keys. After finding them, he opened the door and let you inside. You didn’t intend on staying long. You planned on helping him into his bed and getting him a glass of water.

Jun took his shoes off and went into the kitchen to pour a glass of water. As he poured, he said, “Do you want some water?”

“Sure,” you said. He handed you the glass. “Thanks.”

“I feel better now,” he said, taking a sip of water. He laughed. “Thanks for bringing me safely. I’m sorry if I’m too much right now...”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind.”

He smiled. “I’m happy you came out to dinner tonight.”

“Me too. I’ve been in such a slump lately.”

“Yeah. Michelle told me that you just went through a breakup…”

You nodded. “Yeah. I gotta get back out and start enjoying life again.”

“I don’t know if it’s too soon but I want to see you again,” he said. “Just us.”

[momentskrp]

SACRED HEARTS SPOTLIGHT:

today we’re showcasing our 3A tenant hwang jaemin, who has been with us at sweetheart since july 2018. he’s currently a barista at aroma & hongik student, but we hear he has big dreams of becoming a dancer someday. turn to page 5 to read more!

PAST.

zero.

for the 9 months eunsook is pregnant, she never stops dancing. she’s more careful than she would usually be, of course, especially because jaemin is long awaited. he’s soon to be the first and only child of min eunsook, a dancer and a teacher, and hwang dongchul, a simple working class man. together they made a beautiful young couple, hopelessly in love, who had been expecting their first child for quite sometime.

now with jaemin, their life as a family could finally begin.

three.

the house echoes with laughter and music on top of each other, filling the empty spaces while jaemin and his parents occupy the living room. with the boy in her arms, eunsook twirls across the room and dances around her husband, a smile clear on her face when she feels the vibrations of jaemin’s laughter through her whole body. she’s at peace in such a moment, with her entire world all around her.

five.

when his teacher asks what everyone wants to be when they go up, jaemin’s hand lifts up excitedly, proud to tell the class that he wants to be a dancer just like his mother after he’s called on. his peers seem less impressed, however, especially when the rest of the boys in his class all announce that they want to be firefighters, astronauts, and doctors. at lunch time a few kids make fun of him, some asking if he’s going to be a ballerina when he’s older. so what if he was? why was his dream laughable?

by the time school is over, everyone else seems to forget what jaemin had said earlier, but jaemin hasn’t. he wants answers.

‘eomma… boys can dance too, right?’

‘of course they can, sweet boy. you’re one of the best dancers i know. why do you ask?’

‘the other boys in my class laughed when i said i wanted to be like you when i grow up.’

‘baby, you can do anything you set your mind to, you understand? don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise. promise?’

‘promise.’

seven.

the drive home is nearly pitch black aside from the few streetlights that line the road, but jaemin is far from scared of the darkness. he’s far, far away. he’s miles away from earth it feels like, as his eyes follow the moon from the backseat and he tells his mother about what he did at school that day, feet kicking absently in front of him. he tells her about the picture he drew of their family, and she tells him they’ll hang it up on the fridge when they get home. she muses about what they’re having for dinner that night, and jaemin smiles when he makes a joke about his father’s cooking skills. they both laugh.

then suddenly, jaemin’s entire world is dark.

this time he is scared of the darkness — it comes so abruptly and he doesn’t know how long it lasts for, but he feels pain in his side as his consciousness fades in and out. only when he can look around him and realize what had happened does jaemin feel the tears sting at his eyes, his chest begin to ache. soon sirens mix into the static around him and it all turns into a blur, and when he’s finally pulled out of the car by someone he doesn’t recognize, he panics. he’s young but sure enough has sense for what’s happening, and all he wants in that moment is his mom, but she was no longer there.

nine.

jaemin doesn’t like dancing anymore. not really. instead, he starts drawing, painting, coloring — messing around and creating something with just about whatever he can get his hands on. he’s quieter now, so he puts his words into visuals, and his love for art grows when one day he finds a box filled with all of his mother’s old makeup. he doesn’t let his father know, something tells him not to, and he keeps it to himself. he leaves it untouched for the most part, but when his curiosity eventually gets the best of him, it’s the closest jaemin’s felt to his mother in a long time.

ten.

visiting the local police station has become a hobby of jaemin’s. not because he wants to become a cop, though the idea does cross his mind once or twice; he wants to know why the person who killed his mom hadn’t been found yet, but no one will tell him. he’s been visiting them for nearly two years now, asking if he can help, along with asking questions that are difficult for even police officers to answer. they used to look at him sadly, sometimes endearingly, nowadays everyone just seems agitated. his father looks exhausted too and soon is telling him to just let it go, but jaemin doesn’t want to.

fourteen.

meeting his father’s first girlfriend after his mother had passed away is not anything jaemin feels like he could have prepared himself for. he knew he had gone on dates in the past, and jaemin didn’t mind, but he hadn’t actually met anyone before. she has a lot of money, much more than they’re used to, but she’s not bad. and if she makes his father happy, jaemin is happy too. still, it’s odd, to say the least — even more so when she asks them to move in with her. jaemin and his dad were always a team; the both of them had been on their own for so long now, only taking care of each other, and none of that was going to change when they moved, they were just going to have another person in the mix. or that’s what his father tells him. so, they pack up their belongings and say goodbye to busan.

jaemin leaves almost everything behind except a few things that remind him of his mother, and he finds comfort in the moon once they’re settled into the new place. his mother always told him the moon was special — that there was a reason it always followed them no matter where they traveled. he no longer had busan or the house he grew up in, but he would have the night sky wherever he went.

when he starts dancing again, he realizes he has that, too.

sixteen.

as high school comes around, jaemin begins taking his dancing more seriously. he starts posting his own videos online too, showcasing his favorite routines and covers, and posting pictures of the new art pieces he finishes. it’s the year he discovers the most about himself as he finds a community on the internet, and it’s the first time he delves into makeup after finding the box of his mother’s all those years ago. he has a good hand at it, being an artist, but decides to keep the talent to himself, despite halloween and whenever he has a proper excuse to use it without people asking questions.

it’s also the year he’s slapped for the very first time, but it doesn’t come as much of a shock with the harsh words he’s been hearing from his dad’s girlfriend recently. her true colors start showing when jaemin’s father isn’t around, but he can’t bring himself to tell anyone. a part of him says he can’t ruin what his father has (he hasn’t seen him so happy in ages), and another part tells him no one would believe him even if he did tell the truth. by being strong and dealing with it on his own, jaemin convinces himself he’s doing the right thing — he and his dad always did take care of each other anyway.

PRESENT.

nineteen.

for some reason, jaemin is more scared to go off to college than he was moving away from busan. it’s just as big of a change, but the stakes seem to be significantly higher. much to his surprise, his first year at hongik goes fairly well, and he flourishes while away from home (if he could really call it that). outside of a high school uniform, the diversity of people around him in such a colorful part of seoul allows him to explore more of his fashion and gender expression, and gradually he becomes more comfortable wearing the makeup he wants. it’s not always noticeable to everyone else, but he isn’t trying to make a statement. he’s simply being himself.

jaemin decides not to return to the hongik dorms before the beginning of his second year — the idea of his father paying for it rubs him the wrong way, and his father’s girlfriend paying for it makes him feel even worse. possibly commuting from home doesn’t sound very enjoyable for a multitude of reasons (the distance, no longer being on his own, and not to mention his home life), so instead, he finds somewhere cheaper that he can pay for himself: the sweetheart sharehouse.

twenty.

despite only living at the sharehouse for a few months, jaemin enjoys it more than he expected. being an only child, now living with so many older tenants as well as others his age is a brand new experience, and for the most part, he likes it. sharing a bathroom still takes getting used to, but always being on his own never truly suited jaemin anyway, and the hustle and bustle of the city outside his window makes up for the small commute to school… plus, the landlady is nice too.