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coupsie-daisies · 3 years ago

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The Song of Persistence | Min Yoongi

Pairing: Min Yoongi x GN!Reader

Genre: College AU, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Yoongi will go to the ends of the earth, ever persistent for what he wants. That’s something that you learn from him.

Word Count: 7k

Warnings: Death mention, Alcohol, Yoongi is persistent

A/N: Y’all have no clue what I went through to post this. But here’s August’s piece for the clownracha monthly prompt. The classic, age old college AU. It’s unedited and the pacing is wonky, but I’m really proud of it. Let me know what you think!

Tags: @dragonofthenorth0726 // @sunnytaes // @wooyussy // @burningupp // @bunnypig18 // @chrswolfie // @ferrethyun

This fanfiction and the header attached are property of @/hobi-is-golden, reposting on any platform without explicit permission is prohibited

You were sat down at the piano in the practice room you used to use all the time, the same piano you’d been sat down at for the past forty-five minutes. Your fingers ran the length of the keys, not hard enough to make a sound but just enough to feel each one, every bump and ridge. You used to frequent the university music rooms, you’d composed most of your songs at this very piano. Sitting in front of it now felt like returning to a childhood home that someone else had lived in. It felt right, but a little tighter now, smaller and more rundown than you remembered. It was marked with traces of other people who had loved it when you hadn’t. It didn’t have the same shining draw that it had before, but it brought you comfort like none you’d felt in the past year. You sighed. Had it honestly been that long since you’d played? You missed it, but no matter how hard you tried, your fingers would freeze and your voice would get stuck.

But that was a year ago, and you craved the way it felt to create something from the depths of your soul. You took another deep breath, steadying your trembling nerves. What if you’d lost your ability to make music altogether? What if you’d forgotten how to play piano? Or if your voice had completely forgotten how to sing?

You tentatively played a few notes, your fingers falling back into the rhythm they’d always had, albeit a little clumsier than they had been before. You pulled your hand away once the notes had rung out and shook your head. It was time to grow up, your friends had told you, to take the reins back into your own hands and take a step back towards the thing you’d loved most in your life.

Once you began playing again, the anxiety melted away. The only thing you could hear was the melody you played, the curling, rising notes of your voice, and the heartbeat in your chest that pumped in time. Aside from the occasional stumble of your fingers, the song came to you as naturally as it ever had. The melody finished, and you pulled your hand away once more. You were shaking, just a little, and you heaved a sigh. The rush was subsiding, giving way to a tightness in your throat.

It had been a long time since you’d felt so alive, or so sick for that matter. You gathered your things, tucking all of your books and schoolwork back into your bag. One song was enough for today, and you would have to be meeting your friends soon anyways. You slung the bag’s strap over your shoulder, slipping out the door and into the hall, flicking the light off on your way out.

“Hey, your voice is amazing.” A voice said as you were closing the door behind you. You startled, pressing a hand over your heart and gaping at the man in front of you.

“Jesus, dude, you scared the shit outta me.” You hissed. The guy in front of you smiled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Sorry, I just heard you singing and I wanted to tell you how impressive it is.” He said. Your stomach dropped, and your palms became clammy. You clenched your fists tighter. “What’s your name?”

“You heard that?” You repeated back to him. He nodded slowly.

“Is that an original? I’d love to hear more of it.” It was your turn to nod this time, bobbing your head dumbly as you tried to process what he’d said. Nobody had heard you sing in so long, you’d made sure of that. And now this stranger was praising you for it.

“I’m sorry, I have to go.” You said, moving to step past him. Hoseok wouldn’t be out of his dance team practice for a few more minutes, so you had more than enough time to meet him, but you couldn’t stand still and have this conversation. Not now.

“Wait, sorry, I didn’t mean to invade your privacy. I was just really hoping to talk to you for a second.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. You made a silent reminder to file a complaint about the lack of soundproofing in the practice rooms.

“Right, but you know what they say, stranger danger and whatever. So I think I should probably…” You nodded towards the end of the hall. He chuckled, appearing to be at a loss for words.

“Yeah, strangers. Well, I’m Min Yoongi. I usually hang around here…in case you change your mind. I’d really like to hear more of your music.”

“Listen, you've got it wrong. I’m not a musician, I’m studying film. I was just hanging around, killing time, you know?” You honestly felt sort of bad, he genuinely looked like he was stepping out of his comfort zone talking to you like this. You smiled, though it was a little bit forced.

“Y/N, there you are! Come on,” Hoseok called from the end of the hall, waving for you to hurry up. You nodded.

“I’m really sorry for wasting your time,” You told the stranger. “I’ll see you around.”

You jogged off to meet Hobi at the end of the hall, looking back over your shoulder to where the boy – Yoongi – was still looking at you.

“What was that about?” Hoseok asked. You shook your head at him.

“It’s nothing. He, uh, he heard me playing the piano.”

There was a long silence with nothing but your footsteps and the breathing between the two of you to fill the air.

“How do you feel?” He asked, carefully choosing his words. You knew what he meant, though.

“Guilty I think.” You answered. He nodded like he’d been expecting that. You didn’t ask why, and he didn’t push you to talk about it any further.

Yoongi was left baffled, and a bit dejected actually. He didn’t have any idea who you were, just the sound of your voice taking over his every thought, and the name your friend had called to you. He didn’t have high hopes of seeing you again, the university was fairly large after all, and he didn’t know where to begin. But there was one person who just might.

Jin tapped a long finger against his chin as he thought. They were in the campus library where Yoongi’s most trusted friend worked during the school months. Jin turned back towards the books he was shelving.

“You said she’s a film major?” He asked. Yoongi nodded. Seokjin was something of a prince around the campus, handsome, intelligent, and well-off financially. Not to mention he was earning a business degree that was guaranteed to get him someplace in the future. Still, none of that measured up to his sense of humor and his unwavering loyalty in Yoongi’s eyes. Jin was the sort of man he could understand envying.

His friend took a moment to think, passing the book he held back and forth between his hands. Yoongi’s body mimicked the motion, anxiously shifting his weight from foot to foot.

“Y/N Y/L/N, film major. She’s the same age as us I think, friends with the captain of the dance team. You know, the cute one with the smile.” Jin told him, waving a hand through the air.

“So you know her?”

“Well,” He put the book back where it belonged. “Not exactly. But I know her friend, which is essentially the same thing.”

Yoongi didn’t agree with that actually, but he wasn’t as good with people as Jin, so maybe it was true.

“Come to the dance competition with me this weekend. I’m sure she’ll be there,” Jin said. Yoongi hesitated, then laughed.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s called stalking,” He pointed out. Jin rolled his eyes.

“It’s called killing two birds with one stone. Relax, will you? Don’t you want to hear her sing again?”

The question made him stop again. Of course he did, her voice was keeping him up at night writing a song that only she could do justice. But surely he was being creepy to even consider this, tracking her down like he was. Still, something in him was begging him to try.

Dance competitions were, as a general statement, not your favorite environments. It was always loud before the performances began, and there were always too many people for your liking, but you hadn’t missed a single one since Hoseok had joined the dance team in high school. You and Namjoon took your seats, already eagerly awaiting the beginning of the performances and flipping through the program that they’d been giving out. Some of these teams were incredible, having gone to nationals the year prior, but you knew Hoseok had been whipping the boys into shape, literally and metaphorically.

The lights were beginning to dim, and an announcement was called asking everyone to return to their seats for the first performance of the night. A bright voice caught your attention from the other side of Namjoon, and you looked up to see a handsome boy pointing to the seats next to you. With him was Yoongi, and your heart leaped into your throat. You were really banking on never seeing him again, but here he was only a couple of days later. You looked away.

“Are those seats taken?”

Namjoon spared you a glance, and you weren’t sure if he noticed your panicked expression or not, but he shook his head. You half hoped the stranger would sit by you, putting a little bit extra space between you and Yoongi and consequently sparing you the awkwardness, but luck was simply not on your side. Yoongi sat to your right, his friend on the other side of him. You met Yoongi’s eye, and he gave you a small smile. You smiled back, never more grateful for dancers to take the stage.

Even during the breaks, you managed to escape conversation, slipping away to the bathroom or grabbing a snack. Anything to put some distance between you and Yoongi, and you almost felt bad just because of the defeated look on his face. But soon enough the competition was over, and Hoseok had led his team to a thrilling victory, earning them a spot at nationals. You were headed back to congratulate him with Namjoon hot on your heels before the other pair even had an opportunity to stand up.

When you saw Hoseok, you shouted his name, nearly bowling him over with the force behind your hug. He wrapped his arms around you, lifting your feet off the ground. You wiggled out of his arms with a grin.

“We, you’re all sweaty,” You complained, wiping his sweat off of you as best as you could.

“You do this every single time,” He said, rolling his eyes. You grinned even wider.

“And it’s true every single time.” You said, poking at his chest. “Good job out there, twinkle toes.”

“Thanks, little canary.” He said, but his attention was drawn away by someone else. You let the name sink in. Little canary, he hadn’t used that for you in so long that it almost felt foreign, but you felt a bubble of pride rise in your chest. You looked over to see the two people you’d been trying to escape greeting your best friend. You looked to Namjoon for an explanation, but he looked just as baffled as you were.

“Jin, what the hell are you doing here?” Hoseok seemed to brighten even more, though you weren’t sure how that was actually possible. Leave it to Hobi to be friends with anyone and everyone.

“I came to see you win. I figured I’d come to say congratulations while I was here,” The man - Jin - told him, and you fake gagged at the absolute flirtation in his voice which made Namjoon and Yoongi laugh. For some reason, the sound of Yoongi’s laugh made your heart flutter in your chest. Annoying.

“Good to know you were watching me,” Hoseok flirted back. Ew. You didn’t remember the name Jin from Hoseok’s stories, but you assumed they were fairly well acquainted by the way their conversation was beginning to feel like something to be shared behind closed doors. “Actually, some of us were gonna go out for drinks after we get cleaned up. You should come with us. Your friend too.”

“For fucks sake,” You grumbled to yourself. Why couldn’t anything go your way? Was this your punishment? Your friends looked at you, but you just smiled tightly and shook your head. You weren’t really in the habit of making enemies in the name of personal grievances.

“Yeah, sure. Where should we meet up?” Jin asked. Yoongi didn’t look overly enthused at the prospect you noticed, or maybe he’d just checked out of the conversation entirely. It was hard to say when he was staring straight at you.

“I’ll text you an address, meet us there at nine?” Hobi asked. The two guests agreed and finally went their own way. You didn’t say much as all three of you returned to your apartment building. You split away from the boys, heading to your apartment and throwing yourself into getting ready for a night out.

You wondered as you did your makeup if you were being unfair. You’d developed a less than sunny disposition over the past year or so, and a distrust of…well, pretty much everyone. Your boys had been trying to get you to open up and let your walls come down, but it was slow going. Still, you thought you were beginning to see light filtering in through the cracks, and that scared you.

Once you were all made up, you headed to the boys’ apartment one floor above you, herding the two out to get a cab. The ride was the most peaceful part of the night, and that was gone the second you made it to the club Hoseok always chose. It was as loud as you remembered it being the last time you’d been. When you found Yoongi and Jin, they were already mingling with the other members of the Bangtan University dance team.

You greeted the younger boys with squeezes to their arms or affectionate ruffles of their hair, already relaxing at the familiarity of having your juniors around. They were good kids, you were grateful to watch them grow into young men.

You raised your hand in greeting to the newcomers, more of a peace offering than a friendly gesture. Yoongi was a friend of a friend (or rather the friend of a friend’s friend, but that was a bit wordy wasn’t it? You digress) and besides poking at a sore spot that he couldn’t possibly know existed, he hadn’t done anything wrong. So being hostile towards him wasn’t fair, even if it was instinct, but he had a long way to go before you’d call him a friend.

“Everyone’s here, we should do shots!” Jungkook said. You knew it was his favorite way to start off a night out with your friend group, so you seconded it which earned a loud complaint from Namjoon.

Jungkook headed for the bar, and Jin agreed to go with him, Tae following close behind. While they were gone, attention shifted to Hoseok again, as it usually did when there was a lull in the conversation. He was good at getting the ball rolling again.

“So,” You began. “How long have you and Jin known each other?”

There were a few excited agreements, everyone wanting to know more about this stranger and how he’d come to be invited to an oh-so-sacred night out. Hobi laughed.

“We met last semester, remember the study group I was in? Jin works in the library so he’d talk to us sometimes. That’s all, we’re just friends.”

“Right, just friends,” Joon laughed. “Because all friends have to emphasize that unprompted.”

“Let him have fun, hyung,” Jimin teased. “When’s the last time he was this relaxed.”

And you did have to agree with that statement. As much as you enjoyed teasing your friends about their love lives and the way they flirted, you were relieved to see him as happy and laid back as he was now.

The night went on like that, everyone loosened up with a couple of drinks in their systems and music pulsing through them like a heartbeat. You were grateful for your ability to hold your liquor by a few hours later in the night. You sipped your whiskey, looking around for your friends. You’d lost the youngest three among the crows, but you could see Jin and Hoseok, though you half wished you couldn’t with the way they were dancing pressed up against each other. It was just you, Namjoon, and Yoongi left at your table, and you were keeping to yourself more than you usually would have. You caught your name leaving Namjoon’s mouth, and you quickly pushed yourself to stand up.

“Gonna get some water, be right back.” You said. The boys nodded and you bobbed and weaved through the crowd of intoxicated strangers on your way back to the bar. You ordered your water, sitting down on one of the stools. You had a paper to finish tomorrow, and as much as you wanted to stay intoxicated, a hangover was the friend of no student.

“Can I get a water too?” A voice asked beside you. You didn’t have to look up to know it was Yoongi, which only served to irritate you. You didn’t want to recognize his voice, or his laugh, not even his pretty fucking face. You weren’t being fair, but life wasn’t fair, and you were even more unbearable with a couple of drinks in your system.

“What, are you stalking me now?” You asked, sipping your water. Yoongi didn’t respond, but he looked a bit taken aback by the hostility.

“I’m sorry if I did something wrong, I didn’t mean to make an enemy.” He said finally, tracing the rim of his water glass.

“Right. I wouldn’t say enemy, I’m just not sure why you’re following me around.” You took another drink.

“I was serious when I told you your voice was impressive. I write music, I’m studying production, and I really think you could help me make this song I’m working on better.” He said. The proposal sounded rehearsed, and you truly did feel bad for turning him down.

“I’m sorry, but you’re gonna have to find someone else. I quit music.” You forced a smile despite the pain that saying those words brought.

“Please, I can’t stop thinking about-”

“Stop it. I really don’t mean to disrespect you, but I really can’t just…start singing again. You seem great, really, but you don’t know me, or my past. So please, just understand that I can’t sing for you.” You stood up, and Yoongi sighed, following your lead in getting to his feet.

“Then don’t sing. I won’t ask you to, just help me make something amazing. Give me your opinions, that’s all I ask. I can tell you have good taste, I just need your mind.” He gave it one last try, looking more passionate than you’d seen him before. You weren’t sure what to do with someone who loved the thing you’d cut out of your life just as much as you once had. Maybe as you still did. “Just think about it, text me when you’ve made up your mind.”

He handed you a napkin, his number scribbled on it. You stared at it, half wondering if he carried a pen everywhere he went.

“Right, I think I’m gonna head home. Could you let my friends know for me?” You folded the napkin, tucking it into the pocket of your jeans. Yoongi nodded, and you smiled. This time it was genuine. This guy was persistent, and normally that would irritate you. But with him, it was endearing. You had to admire that level of perseverance.

“So what are you gonna do?” Hoseok asked as you pondered the napkin you’d been given. You shrugged, poking at your meal, chasing a grain of rice back and forth across the plate. It was your weekly lunch with the boys, all of you just discussing the ups and downs of your week.

“I’m not…a musician anymore,” You said. Your friends both shifted in their seats around the table. You raised an eyebrow at them.

“It’s just that you’ve put so much distance between you and your music. You’re miserable, it’s like being friends with a zombie,” Hoseok explained, and rather bluntly at that. Your jaw dropped, but Namjoon interrupted before you spoke You settled instead for shoving a bite of food into your mouth.

“We don’t mean that you should dive headfirst back into it. But punishing yourself like this is killing you, and we can’t just stand by and watch you anymore.” Namjoon sighed and reached out to lay a hand over yours. You tried not to fidget away from the touch, feeling a bit put off with the attention on you. “Don’t you think it’s been long enough?”

There was a creeping sense of panic that had you becoming a bit sick to your stomach. You laid your free hand against your stomach

“How could it be enough?” You asked, looking desperately between the two of them. You were aching for an answer, hoping the two of them could make it all easier.

“Just try. You have to forgive yourself eventually. Please text him,” Namjoon tried again.

This time, you didn’t have it in you to argue. So you nodded and tried to ignore the bitter taste of self-loathing lingering in the back of your throat.

Sending the text was nerve-wracking, almost as much as receiving one back. I’m not going to sing you’d told him, but I’ll listen to what you’re working on. You regretted giving in right up until the moment Yoongi was welcoming you into his dorm room.

The space was small, a two-person dorm that appeared to be occupied by someone else as well, but who you weren’t sure. There were traces of Yoongi all across the small shared living space, posters, and pictures of him and his friends. There were a few notebooks here and there, and textbooks sitting out on the table by the small couch. All in all the space was fairly near. You wondered if he always kept the dorm clean or if he’d made it up just for you.

“Come on, my setup is in my room,” He told you. You nodded, following him into his bedroom. Honestly, there wasn’t anything particularly outstanding about his room besides the setup he had at his desk. His workspace rivaled the mini recording studio in your university’s music wing.

“Wow, this is amazing. Did you do this yourself?” You asked. He nodded.

“Yeah, I started buying everything back in high school, saved up for years. It’s still not everything I’ve ever wanted, but I’m pretty happy with the results.” He told you. You nodded along as he gave you a little tour of everything.

“My mom used to have this makeshift studio in our spare room,” You said with a smile. “I’ve never really understood all this techy stuff, it's really impressive.”

Yoongi watched you admire his hard work with a bashful smile of his own. You seemed less abrasive now than you had before, more relaxed as you made yourself just small enough to share his space. He liked it.

“I could teach you if you wanted. The techy stuff, I mean. Recording, producing.” You looked at him, and he had to fight off his laughter at how your eyes burned bright at the offer.

“Yeah, that would be cool. But let me hear this song first, I have to make sure you’re legit.” You told him, half teasing.

He sat down in the desk chair that was more or less wedged between the desk and the end of his bed, clicking through a few files on the laptop he had sitting there. There wasn’t enough room to walk between the chair and the bed, barely enough room to scoot up beside him.

“You can sit there,” He motioned towards the end of the bed, and you took your seat at his right, just slightly behind him. He handed you a pair of headphones, putting on his own and waiting for you to do the same.

You watched as Yoongi sorted through files with a practiced speed. There were tons of them, some labeled with titles, some with just dates. You wondered how many songs he had tucked away in those files of his. Finally, he clicked on one.

“I haven’t finished writing up lyrics yet, so it’s mostly just the backing track.” He said, voice quiet as he focused on loading up the track. “I added a rap verse. Might cut it from the final product, I haven’t quite decided,”

The more he talked, the more anxiety built up in your stomach. Who were you to judge his music? He clearly had more knowledge than you did, and an endless passion for the process. You on the other hand, well you were rusty at best. You’d hardly given music a listen unless you were with other people. Maybe you just weren’t ready for this. You focused instead on him. The curve of his eyelashes, the slope of his nose, and the hair at the nape of his neck that had begun to curl from growing a bit too long.

“Hitting play.” He said. You closed your eyes, pushing down the nerves as the music began. It was a sweet piano melody that was reminiscent of the one you’d been playing the day you met him. It was lilting, almost playful as it went on. Over it was a muted arrangement of strings and a pulsing electronic beat. It was breathtaking.

You could only imagine how pretty it would sound with a guitar dancing around the piano melody and a soft vocal line. You were getting lost in it when the rap verse came in. You were never a fan of rap, but Yoongi’s voice was clear and smooth in contrast to the raw intensity. It gave you chills.

When the song finished, it was as if the air was sucked out of your lungs. You blinked a few times, looking over at Yoongi as he took off his headphones. You didn’t say anything for a long moment, just wrapped up in how beautiful the work in progress was.

“It’s not done yet, it’ll get better.” He said, shifting a bit uncomfortably. You wondered how often he showed people his music if he still seemed so nervous about it all. You smiled.

“It can get better than this? It’s so good, Yoongi.” You promised, resting your hand on his arm. “Seriously. I have an idea though. If I may.”

He was quick to nod, and you shifted towards him, launching immediately into what you had been thinking about while you were listening. You explained your thoughts for a guitar addition, and what you thought the vocals should sound like. It was easy to get lost in this with him, in building a song up to everything you both knew it could be, everything that you both wanted.

The time was passing by faster than you imagined it would with the both of you brainstorming lyrics. It was late in the evening when you finally noticed the time, your stomach starting to ache with hunger and your brain running dry.

“Hey, it’s late, I should head out.” You said after a minute. Yoongi looked up from the notebook he’d been working in, a look of disappointment flashing over his features. You tried not to think too much about it.

“Yeah, okay. Thanks for helping me with this. It’s coming out really great.” He told you. You shrugged off the compliment.

“It’s nothing. Text me if you wanna get together again. Maybe we can grab food and work on those lyrics sometime.” You told him, gathering your things and shoving them back into your bag. Leaving was hard, and that made you worry, but it was also hard to worry with Yoongi around. He had a way of easing your mind now that you were giving him the opportunity.

A week or so had passed, and with neither of you managing time to meet up in person, phone calls and facetime calls had become a common occurrence between you and him. Usually just for a few minutes, bouncing lyric ideas or little melodies off of each other.

It had become so commonplace that your friends had grown used to you sneaking off to answer his calls. Which is what you’d just finished doing now, returning to the boys’ sitting area where everyone was hanging out.

“Have a good talk with your boyfriend?” Jimin teased. You rolled your eyes, flopping onto the couch between Namjoon and Jungkook.

“He’s not my boyfriend. And I did have a nice talk, thank you very fucking much.” You glared at the younger boy, but he didn’t say anything in response. You’d grown accustomed to the teasing from them over how much time you spent with Yoongi. It had taken you months to warm up to the younger members of the Bantan dance team, so for a complete stranger to waltz into your life and take up your time was unheard of.

You, on the other hand, made a conscious effort not to think about it. You didn’t like new people, and you weren’t a big fan of change in any setting, let alone one that could bring emotional distress. But Yoongi was harmless, he was a good person with a heart of gold, and all he was doing was giving you the inspiration that you’d thought was gone for good. Namjoon always said that despite their teasing, Yoongi was good for you.

“So how’s the song coming?” Hoseok asked as the teasing and cruel giggles died down. Your eyes shifted to look at him, then at the other boys who were watching you attentively. You didn’t often talk about the fact that you two were working on a song together, you had avoided the topic of music quite successfully up until this moment and you were not exactly grateful to be dragged back into speaking of it.

“It’s going well. Lyrics are slow going, but I think that’s because he wants me to take the lead,” You said, shifting uncomfortably. You knew full well that the boys just wanted you to do what was best for you, but that didn’t mean that it was easy, or that it always felt good. Especially when you were looking back on it and not living it actively.

“That’s good. You should play it for us when you finish it!” Jungkook said, playfully nudging your arm. He was a good kid, you were lucky he was there. Sometimes it felt like he and Namjoon were the glue that held the group together in tense moments like this when all you wanted to do was kick Hoseok in the head hard enough to knock him unconscious. You didn’t assault your best friend.

“Yeah, maybe. I’m not sure, that’s up to him I guess.” You said, shrugging it off.

“That’s true, but you should still ask him. Maybe you guys can perform it,”

Hoseok again. Sticking his nose where it didn’t fucking belong and pushing buttons he had no right. You huffed.

“Yeah, probably not.” You said. “I hate to cut things short, but I have some homework to do, so I think I should head out.”

You watched as everyone argued that you should stay, and you caught Taehyung sending a glare in Hoseok’s direction. You knew you weren’t being as level-headed as you would have liked to be, but you couldn’t help it. Hoseok knew better than anyone what you’d been dealing with, he’d watched the life drain from your eyes, and now he was putting you on the spot in front of all your friends.

“Sorry boys, I’ll see you later okay?” You said, grabbing your bag and heading for the door. You weren’t trying to leave on bad terms, but you figured it was best to distance yourself before you said something you didn’t mean.

You made your goodbye quick, slipping out the door and speed walking towards the stairs. Damn apartment building with its damn broken elevator. You had almost made it when you heard your name. You turned begrudgingly.

“Hey, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that back there.” Hoseok said, his hands shoved in his pockets. You scoffed.

“You’re right, you shouldn’t have.” You agreed. There was a long pause, neither of you knowing where to go from there. “I’ll get over it. But it was inconsiderate and I needed some space. So I’ll text you later.”

He nodded, and you gave him a pressed smile before turning to head back home. You hated leaving him like this, leaving on bad terms always made your stomach churn with anxiety.

“Hoseok?” You waited for him to look up at you again. “I love you.”

He smiled, and you smiled back.

You were home a few minutes, restless and frustrated. You loved Hoseok, and you would be fine. You’d been friends for so long and you came out of every confrontation just as close as you always were. But it was irritating to have him poke your sore spots and embarrass you in front of your friends. And you felt even worse that you were mad about it.

You weren’t sure when you’d become so reliant on Yoongi’s presence to make you feel better, but there you stood in the middle of your bedroom with your phone in your hand, dialing his number at 9 pm on a Thursday evening. But he picked up in no time, and the tension eased from your muscles.

“Hey, what’s up?” He asked. You swallowed.

“Are you home? Can I come over?” You asked him in return. You heard shifting on his end of the line.

“Yeah, you can come over. Is everything okay?” Yoongi asked. You hummed a bit dismissively.

“I’ll be fine. I just need to…I don’t know, not be here I guess. I’ll be over soon.” You said, already hanging up so he couldn’t ask more questions. You gathered your notebooks and slipped on your shoes to head back to the dorms to see him.

The walk wasn’t long, you’d opted for the cheapest apartments just off campus, and you were grateful that Jin and Yoongi lived on the side closest to you. But the cool evening air was sobering. You ran through the lyrics you were working on, something to distract you from the emotions boiling beneath the surface that you always tried not to acknowledge.

Yoongi was waiting for you in his dorm, stretched out on the couch and scrolling on his phone. Jin wasn’t in the dorm, but you’d found that to be quite common. He sat up when you walked in, not bothering to knock - something else that had become a daily practice for the two of you.

“What happened?” He asked you.

“I had some lyric ideas, I thought that maybe we could work on it.” You said, sitting down in the space he’d made for you and opening up the notebook you’d been working in. It was true that you‘d come up with some lyrics, but mostly you just wanted to be close to him. You wondered if he could tell. But if he did notice that you were acting strangely, he didn’t say so.

“Okay, but come down to the laundry rooms with me, I have a couple of loads running, and the last time I left them unattended someone stole my favorite shirt.” He told you. You wanted to laugh, but you knew that college students were nothing if not assholes, so you agreed, gathering your things and following him downstairs through the building.

The basement where the row of washing and drying machines were lined up was cool and musty in the way that most basements were. Yoongi climbed up onto one of the machines, and you jumped up on the one beside him, making yourself as comfortable as you could be with the cold steel digging against your skin. There wasn’t any talk about your days, you just swapped feedback, constructing a few lines of the second verse while he worked on the rap verse that he’d written, trying to tweak it into the shape he wanted. You liked when he rapped, it was like you could see his entire being, like he was laying himself out bare and vulnerable before you.

“Hey, have you tried layering harmonies over the rap?” You asked him. He looked up, waiting for you to continue. “You know, like having a vocalist harmonize with this rap part here to give it more depth,” You tapped the eraser of your pencil against a few lines on his notebook.

“Would you try it with me?” He asked. You looked at him like a deer in the headlights, and he quickly followed up with a shake of his head. “You don’t have to if you’re not ready. I won’t make you.”

You nodded, looking down at your hands. It had been several weeks, and you’d never opened up to anyone about this besides your closest friends. But somehow you felt guilty keeping Yoongi in the dark. He was ever patient with you, always gentle in approaching the subject of music.

“Music was my mom’s thing. She was a music teacher, and she helped me write that song you heard me sing that day.” You told him. It was quiet aside from the chugging hum of the washing machine. You could feel him looking at you, but you didn’t look back. “And my mom died a little over a year ago. I hadn’t made music since then. I don’t deserve to.”

“Music isn’t something you have to earn.” He said carefully. You tried not to scoff.

“My mom was my favorite person in the world. She supported me through everything, no questions asked. But the night she died…” You cleared your throat in an attempt to push the lump forming there back down. “The night she died she had told me I shouldn’t go to this open mic thing going on. There were gonna be lots of scouts and people in the industry that could have helped me get a leg up, you know? And it was stupid, she wouldn’t have told me not to go if she thought it would be worthwhile.”

You sniffled, your fingers spinning your pencil to focus the nervous energy building inside of you. You hated talking about this, hated thinking about what might have gone through her head. Hating that you had done the unforgivable.

“We fought about it. We used to fight a lot, but it was never really bad. We would always make up right away and move on. But I said awful things. I told her she didn’t care about me, that she never let me chase my dreams because…” You choked back a sob. “Because she couldn’t make it so she didn’t want me to. That’s the last thing I said to her.”

You felt Yoongi’s hand land on yours, squeezing your hand and rubbing his thumb over it. You sniffled, swiping away your tears with your free hand. You cleared your throat.

“I never got to say goodbye, or that I’m sorry. So I couldn’t let myself make music again. That was something that belonged to her, and it was the reason I turned my back on her.” You said. You didn’t feel that way as much now. You’d begun to think that maybe she understood, she’d always had a knack for understanding what was going on inside your head. Maybe she’d forgiven you. Maybe she could see you now and wanted you to be as happy as you once were.

“Y/N, I’ve seen how much you love music. And your mother.” Yoongi started. If it were anyone else you would have snapped. Who was he to talk about you, or your music, and least of all your mother? But this was Yoongi, and he was good to you. “I didn’t know her, but I’m sure if she was anything like you are she wouldn’t want you to suffer for the rest of your life without the thing you love to do. If anything I think this was meant to remind you to keep chasing what you love.”

“How can I follow this when I never got closure?” You asked, half snapping. He didn’t pull away from you, he didn’t even flinch. If anything his intensity seemed to double down.

“Make this your closure. Do you really think your mom is at peace knowing that you’re beating yourself up every second of every day for loving something so deeply?” He asked. You exhaled, the pieces finally lining up.

Your mother had never wanted you to change who you were or how you felt. Not for anyone but yourself.

“No…she’d never forgive me for giving it up,” You admitted quietly. Yoongi smiled, giving your hand another squeeze before letting go. You took a deep breath.

“Then don’t give up. Make this your closure, prove to her that you’re not going to let one thing you love outweigh the other.” He told you.

You nodded, and you swore she’d smile down at you now. You wondered, though you weren’t sure what you believed about heaven and the like, if she was watching over you. If she’d brought Yoongi to you for just this reason. Maybe it was finally time to be finished suffering. You could let your music prove to her that you loved her unconditionally, that you regretted what you’d said, that you were sorry.

“Thanks, Yoongi. For everything. And especially for not giving up on me.” You told him.

“I’m not gonna ever give up on you, you don’t have to thank me for that.” He told you before sliding his notebook your way. “So, about those harmonies you mentioned.”

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coupsie-daisies · 3 years ago

Text

Silver Screen Soulmates | Park Jimin

Pairing: Park Jimin x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, Enemies to Lovers (one sided), Actor AU, kinda hurt/comfort

Summary: Being Jimin’s leading lady is a big task, and being in Park Jimin’s shadow is absolutely insufferable. Jimin can’t understand how you’re in his shadow when you shine brighter than the sun itself.

Word Count: 11.8k (I’m so sorry)

Warnings: Lots of alcohol, Reader gets hate online, lots of cussing, Reader is messy

A/N: So it’s a tiny bit late because the header was giving me problems, but here’s my contribution to the clownracha monthly prompt for July; Lights, Camera, Action. Enjoy!

Tags: @dragonofthenorth0726 // @felixtok // @sunnytaes // @burningupp // @bunnypig18 // @chrswolfie // @ferrethyun

This fanfiction and the header attached are property of @/hobi-is-golden, reposting on any platform without explicit permission is prohibited

"Cut,” The director called, and you sighed. Whether it was a sound of relief or frustration was still up in the air. You loved acting, it had taken over the depths of you. It was your co-star who always seemed to give you problems.

Jimin was a good actor, a great actor even. Not that you’d be caught dead saying something like that near him. There were a lot of things you’d learned about Park Jimin since you’d first met him, and if you were to describe him, it would sound like praise.

He was hardworking, the most dedicated man you’d ever met. He was a perfectionist, and that might be one of the biggest understatements ever. Actually, he was sweet, sickeningly so. He never wanted to see anyone frown, and he would do damn near anything for damn near anyone.

Park Jimin was, at best, an angel. And at worst, he was your worst fucking nightmare.

“Can we do that one more time?” Jimin asked with a charming smile. It was the same one he always used with the press when he tried to get on their good side or make a perfect impression. You groaned, not even bothering to hide your exasperation as you shot the director a pleading look.

“Again? We’ve shot this scene like a hundred times.” You said, completely ready to stand your ground on this one. You completely understood only wanting to put your best on the big screen. But you were already behind schedule, and it was because of Jimin’s perfectionism. “Please, there’s got to be enough good takes already.”

You heard Jimin scoff beside you, his hands landing on his hips. You shot him a side-eyed glare.

“I know we’re nearing the end of the shoot schedule, but we should still be putting in one hundred percent effort.” He said. Your jaw dropped. Surely he wasn’t implying that you were slacking off on your work.

“I’m putting in just as much effort as you are, thank you very much.” You jabbed your finger towards him. “I just don’t think it’s necessary to keep rerunning the same scene over and over. It’s a waste of everyone’s time, energy, and money.”

“You’re saying it’s a waste of time to film a good movie? Isn’t that what we’re here to do?”

You rolled your eyes. Low fucking blow.

“You know that’s not what I’m fucking saying.”

“Well that’s what it sounds like. I know you’re not a quitter, and you do too, so why are you acting like one?”

“Don’t talk about things you don’t know.” You snapped, hands curling and uncurling at your sides. The tension sparking between you and your co-star was becoming stifling.

“Alright, let’s all take 15. We’ll pick up with the next scene then..” The director dismissed everyone, and you glared at Jimin again as you turned to leave.

You were dialing your best friend’s phone number before you were even to your trailer. It rang a few times, and you dug in the back of your brain for what his schedule should be looking like. He was a model, so he tended to be busy, much like yourself. When he finally answered, you sighed in relief.

“You’re a go for Hoseok,” He said. On any normal day, you’d be teasing him for his dorky answer. Instead, you jumped straight into your rant.

“I hate him so much,” You announced. “Are you free for food tonight?”

You heard him laugh on the other end of the phone, completely used to your tense relationship with Jimin. It was hard not to be since the two of you had become a matching set when you were only kids. Ever since then, the universe had been dead set on making you deal with him.

“Uh, my night should be clear after my next fitting. That should be over and done with in a couple of hours. So yeah.” He told you. “Not having fun playing house with Jimin today?”

The teasing lilt of his voice only irritated you further. You probably would have said something about it had it been anyone but him. However, you were used to the fact that tormenting you was one of Hoseok’s favorite pastimes anyway, his way of showing his affection. Convoluted motherfucker.

“Understatement of the year, actually.” You said, letting yourself into your trailer and collapsing onto the sofa inside. “I know he’s the media’s golden boy, that’s all great and whatever, but I swear he’s out to get me. I’ve never even done anything to him, I’m just never good enough.”

You could hear voices in the background of the call, and you knew you were being childish, calling and disrupting Hoseok’s already busy workday over something as stupid as a little tiff with Jimin.

As previously mentioned, Jimin was the golden boy of the acting world. He’d made his debut when he was only nine, and he was a quadruple threat; He could act, he could sing, he could dance, and he was downright beautiful to boot. Saying something to the wrong person could cause an uproar and sink your hard earned career without so much as a second to rebut.

And that was yet another thing that had always bothered you. You were used to it, sure, but it was sickening and absolutely terrifying knowing that your entire career was riding on the way the media swooned over you and Jimin as a pair. At first, when you were much younger, it was flattering to be deemed Jimin’s silver screen soulmate. After all, he was perfect and had been acting for several years longer than you had. So it must have meant something that you’d managed to get tied to him so tightly. But the older you got, and the more you tried to branch out, the more frustrating it became to be pigeonholed like that. You were never praised on your own merits, only on your association with Jimin. The first time you acted on your own, in a movie with which he wasn’t even connected, all of the headlines only referred to you as ‘Park Jimin’s leading lady’, and maybe that left you more bitter than you’d expected.

“I know you’re busy, and I have to be back soon. I’ll text you when we wrap up for the night, okay?” You said. Hoseok made a small noise of surprise, clearly expecting for you to have carried on with your story about your ruined day.

“Oh yeah, sure. I’ll talk to you later then.”

“Yeah. Bye, oppa.” You hung up, closing your eyes and heaving a heavy sigh. You were ready to be finished with this movie. Maybe you’d talk to your manager about taking a bit of a break.

Once your day was wrapped up, you’d made your way to Hoseok’s place. He’d gotten your favorites, a scattering of takeout boxes in front of you. You were both kicked back on his plush couch, a movie playing on the television that you’d both seen a hundred times before. It was what you’d both always put on after a hard day.

“So he made you shoot it again?” He asked, bringing his noodles to his lips to blow on them. You nodded, chewing your own mouthful of food.

“Yeah. And I know he’s talented, and he’s more experienced than me, but the absolute disrespect to accuse me of half-assing my job?” You said, motioning with your chopsticks and stabbing them back into your rice. “I don’t know why he’s such a little brat! I have never slacked off on set. And I actually worked hard to get where I am, unlike him.”

You knew you weren’t exactly being fair, you knew that Jimin worked harder than most, and he made sure to work extra hard to make up for the fact that he’d had it fairly easy in his career. His mother was a well known screenwriter, his father the head of a production company. It only made sense for him to end up in the industry as well. But you? Your parents had always worked overtime at mediocre, mid-paying jobs just to make ends meet and allow you to study and chase your dreams. You sighed.

“I’m not overreacting, am I? I mean to say something like that in front of so many people is just…it’s humiliating.”

Hoseok reached out, rubbing your leg and giving it a small squeeze of reassurance.

“It’s reasonable to be mad that he’d say something like that. I mean, I’ve never known you to half-ass anything, much less on camera.”

You raised your eyebrows, pausing halfway through bringing more food to your lips. Oh, you most certainly sensed a ‘but’ coming.

“But?”

“But…maybe he really is just trying to shoot a good movie. I mean, we both know that he’s never satisfied with his work, so maybe it’s not just about you. Maybe he’s, I don’t know, maybe he’s projecting or something.” Hoseok shrugged, stealing a piece of your steamed broccoli. You didn’t swat at him like usual, trying to take in what he’d said.

Projecting? You’d never considered that the words Jimin threw at you weren’t actually about you. And even if they were, there was something in you that refused to let that be a good enough reason to talk down to you. You were just as good as him, he’d told you once that you were the best actor he’d ever worked with in your age group. And as an amateur no less. So how could he look you in the eye now and say that you weren’t trying?

You huffed, setting your food aside. You really didn’t feel like eating anymore.

“I just can’t wait to take a break. Maybe I’m just getting burnt out.” You picked up your phone, deciding to shoot your manager, Seokjin, a text asking if he could work out a little time to yourself. At least a week before you accepted another role.

“You deserve a break. I’m pretty sure you work harder than anyone I know.” Hoseok agreed.

You relaxed, turning your attention to the movie and grabbing one of the pillows you two had moved aside to cling to. You were grateful for this sort of normalcy that you really only found with your parents or with Hoseok. He’d clawed and climbed his way into the top modeling agency from nothing, so he understood your struggles and your insecurities better than anyone else you’d met.

He didn’t judge you when you broke down after a hard day, or when you wondered if you even deserved to be as well known as you were. And in moments like this, when everything was upsetting you and there really was no answer, he was good at sitting with you and not trying to rationalize.

“Hey, you know that you’re a really good actor, right?” He said. You smiled.

“Thanks, oppa. I know,”

And you laid back against his couch, eyes turned to the ceiling. You didn’t know why you cared so much about what Jimin had to say when it came to you, or why you were so dead set on being good enough for his unreasonable standards, but your naturally competitive nature. and the way that he never failed to get on your nerves meant you had to do better. And you knew you could if you worked at it. You sighed, hugging the cushion tighter. Just a couple more weeks, and filming would be over. Then it was on to promotions, and eventually the premiere. Hopefully you’d have a breather between projects, a little vacation sounded nice.

A few more hours passed you by, and movies were swapped out. The lights had been turned off, leaving just the flickering light of the television screen and the glow of your phone since Hoseok had long since dozed off, sprawled across his side of the couch. You scrolled your social media, flicking between your personal accounts and your professional ones, keeping an eye on the tags for the movie you were working on.

Most of the time you enjoyed reading the newest tweets. It was nice seeing so many people from different backgrounds rallying around something you were pouring your heart and soul into. Seeing their excitement brought energy back to your weary mind. And even the hate comments usually made you giggle or spurred you on to prove them wrong. Especially since the support well outweighed the hate.

But maybe, and you really should have known this, reading hate tweets when you were already hating yourself wasn’t your best idea, especially in the middle of the night when you were tipsy and couldn’t sleep.

‘Y/N isn’t even talented, Jimin probably just felt bad and now he’s stuck carrying her dead weight’

‘It’s pathetic that Y/N Y/L/N has to be in movies with Park Jimin just to get publicity’

‘Jimin could do so much better, I don’t know why anyone thinks they’re together. She’s not even half as hot as he is’

You locked your phone and tipped your head back against the pillow you’d propped under you. Even with your social media put away for the night, the words spun in your head. Tryhard, social climber, talentless, mediocre. You choked on your own insecurity, your stomach turning sour. Maybe late night margaritas were a bad idea. You put your phone aside.

You knew better, or at least you told yourself otherwise. You weren’t worthless, you were a good actor, a good person, a hard worker. Everything you had you’d worked for. Your words didn’t seem to do you any good as you tossed and turned and tried to fall asleep. You wondered, though rather bitterly, if Jimin thought those things about you too? Had his words of praise throughout the years just been a smokescreen? A means of kindness regardless of honesty?

You threw your arms over your eyes, blocking out the light and forcefully counting your breaths in your head, determined to fall asleep, even if only to stop thinking about what everyone else may say behind your back.

The anxiety was easier to stomach in the morning than it had been the night before. You took advantage of Hoseok’s kindness and his couch, spending most of your day off lounging on the plush cushions and keeping up with your social media. Reading your socials was easier this time than it had been before when your emotions were running rampant. Still, Jimin was in the back of your mind. He usually was actually, so much so that Hoseok was half convinced that the media relationship the two of you had was infiltrating your actual emotions. But there was a vast difference, you’d always remind him, between admiring someone and seeing why the world puts them on a pedestal, and having feelings for them. He liked to argue that the line wasn’t nearly as wide as you were making it out to be. You wondered if his sweet nature extended to people he didn’t like, if he was pretending with you all this time. You sincerely hoped he wasn’t pretending.

The next week of filming had you wondering. Which was infuriating, quite frankly, because you really had been prepared to focus on yourself and muddle through. Over-analyzing your feelings wasn’t on the schedule, especially since you thought you’d left your stupid little schoolgirl crush in your teenage years. But the more you paid attention, the more you noticed the way Jimin hovered around you. The way your heart would skip a beat when he waved at you from across the set, or the way you’d find yourself smiling when he’d bring you coffee in the mornings, just the way you liked it. When he’d memorized your order for all your favorite places you weren’t sure. And when exactly you’d begun feeling like you were in the presence of the sun itself around him was another big question mark in your mind. But it all pointed towards one earth-shattering realization.

You were in love with your worst nightmare.

“Hey, are you with us?” Jimin asked you, and you shook yourself out of your daze. The director had been talking to the both of you, and you’d at least caught most of it. Confession, yada yada, something, something, chemistry. Yeah, you got it.

“Yeah, I’m here, sorry. I just need another coffee or something. But I’m here.” You told him, giving him a pressed smile when he locked eyes with you. You almost felt a bit uneasy being under his gaze, it was as if he were trying to see right through you down to your soul. You cleared your throat and looked away, passing your script to one of the assistants and asking if she could please have a coffee ordered for you.

A few adjustments were made, the director walking through where the scene was going to start, how he wanted you two to run it. You nodded, letting yourself fall into your comfort zone. This was natural, you were good at this. You were good, you realized, at pretending to be in love with Jimin.

You took your places, allowing yourself to reconnect with your character. She was different from you, less fiery and less unforgiving. She wanted to trust people and it got her hurt often. You tried hard to remember that as the cameras began rolling.

You walked to the table that was set up, sitting down and looking at your hands in your lap, feigned indifference. The scene pictured a quaint garden patio with only the two of you. Jimin was pacing, looking up when you sat down.

“You came.” He said in disbelief. You nodded slowly.

“Did you think I wouldn’t?” You ask in response, letting out a soft laugh. “You said you wanted to talk, so I’m here to talk.”

He nodded, stopping in front of you. He took a deep breath, and you watched his chest rise, then fall.

“Why did you tell me to marry someone else?” He asked after a second. You paused, making sure to look taken aback by the question.

“I think that should be obvious. Your sister hates me, your parents tried to sabotage every opportunity we had.” You shook your head. “There are dozens of other women you could be with. People who could make your family shine much more than I can.”

He shook his head as you stood up.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come. But I know you can do better than me, and I know you’ll find someone better suited to….all of this.” You looked around at the garden, a show of wealth from Jimin’s character.

“Wait, please don’t leave me like this.” You felt a tug in your chest as he caught your hand in his, you both lingered there a moment before you turned to face him.

“Don’t make this harder. You’ll be fine, I’ve seen the women waiting for a chance with you. Your mother has a list as long as you are.”

Jimin reached up, cupping your cheek. The way his thumb brushed along your cheekbone made something unpleasant tug in your chest again, and you fought a wave of nausea.

“Don’t say things like that. It’s always been you, you have to know that. No matter who comes or goes, my heart is yours.” His whispered voice was sharp along the edges with desperation as he delivered his line.

A line, part of a script. Someone else’s words, not his own. On cue your eyes began to sting with tears, and you blinked.

“But if it was always me,” You began as a few droplets slipped down your cheeks. “If it was always me, then why did it feel like I always came in last? Like you expected me to be someone else?”

He hesitated, always the perfect actor, and you swallowed around the lump in your throat as you looked up at him. You desperately wanted to know if he could see through your tears, through your character. Could he see the way your chest was ripping open with every line he recited?

“I never meant to make you feel like that. I thought I was doing what was best for you, for both of us.” He said, shaking his head. You could feel your control slipping, tears coming faster and breath growing increasingly hiccuped.

“Don’t. Don’t act like you know what I want or- Or how I feel. It hurts,” You snapped.

There it was, a silent shift in the atmosphere on set. You went off script. That wasn’t unusual for an actor, but everyone knew how Jimin felt about improv, and you knew as Jimin’s usual scene partner that it was the fastest way to bring out his attitude. And you were a professional, you could practically hear your manager’s voice in your mind, gently scolding you for letting yourself crack.

Jimin stared at you, his hand falling away from your face and leaving your cheek feeling uncomfortably cold. You lowered your gaze, blinking a few more times to unblur your vision which was being obscured by your tears. Your stomach was churning anxiously, waiting for someone to call cut. But apparently the director liked what he was seeing. Probably the authenticity he’d been saying was lacking since day one of shooting.

“I don’t know what you want, you’re right. I just wanted to help and make this easier.” He attempted, clearly trying to get the situation back under control, but you were too far gone. The tone of his voice wavered, and you didn’t know if it was hurt, or irritation, or if it was all put on just like every other thing he’d ever said to you. A show for the cameras. You weren’t a huge fan of any of those options.

“Everything is always about you, isn’t it? It’s all about how you feel, what you think, what you want and I can’t–”

“Cut!”

You took a couple of steps back from him, your chest heaving as you fought to calm yourself down. It was hot, and your head was spinning.

“I’m sorry, can I…I need a break. Can I just, um…” You stumbled around the sentence, shooting Seokjin and the director a desperate look. They shared a silent glance of their own before waving you off.

You turned fast, booking it out of the building. You needed air, you had to pull yourself together. Never in all your years of acting had you ever done something so monumentally stupid. You sniffled, patting away your tears with a special care not to completely fuck up your makeup since your team had worked so hard on it.

“Stupid fucking feelings. What the hell, Y/N?” You hissed to yourself. You were so wrapped up in your own head that you didn’t hear the door open behind you.

“Hey, what the hell was that?” His voice caught you off guard, and you groaned, curling in even further on yourself.

“I really don’t need to hear it, Jimin. I know I’m wasting everyone’s time, I know I’m being unprofessional, okay? I know.” You snapped breathlessly, trying to ease the way your chest was aching.

“When the hell have I ever disregarded what you want?” He asked, continuing to press closer. You glared at him through teary eyes.

“When haven’t you? You never consider how I want a scene to go, how I want to deal with the media. I’ve never even had a chance to escape you because everything I do is all about how good I look with you. Dammit, Jimin, I’m just as important as you are. I’m just as talented, and I’m just as passionate. And maybe if you could see that, everyone else would too.”

It wasn’t the first time you’d ever snapped at Jimin, but it was the first time he’d seen you so worked up. He furrowed his brow. Did you think he didn’t know all of that? Did you think he didn’t respect you? Sure, you never saw eye to eye, not since you were both children, but if there was one person who was unwaveringly on Jimin’s level, it was you. It had never occurred to him that you didn’t know how far out of his way he went to work with you.

“You’ve never told me what you wanted. You can’t blame me for taking the lead when you don’t.” He said coldly. And then he was beating himself up because that really wasn’t what he was trying to say, but he wasn’t very good at letting it slide when his pride was hurt. He clenched his fists at his sides. “You shouldn’t come back until you’re ready and able to have an efficient shoot.”

He turned away, and your stomach churned. How was it that you could bare your soul to him, tell him how he’s been hurting you, and all he can give you in return is a scolding for being unprofessional and not stepping on his toes? You covered your face, blinking back tears that left a burning sensation behind your eyes. The sooner you could stop crying, the sooner you could move on with the shoot and leave all of this shit behind you.

You stayed outside for a while, allowing your tears to dry and your mind to calm down. You must have been gone too long, because they sent Jin out to come get you. He tried to calm you down and brush it off as if nothing had even happened, Jin was kind that way. And he was also good at pep talks, something that you found very helpful. So with one more coffee downed in a minute and a half, and a serious pep talk from Seokjin under your belt, you were shuffled off to get your hair and makeup touched up and then it was back on. The scene didn’t hurt as much the next time around, you had gotten your frustration out already. And the whispers on set about your outburst stayed behind closed doors. You wondered why, but you weren’t ungrateful for the calm.

The next week went by in a blur, and before you knew it filming was over. No matter how many complaints you had about the entire process, you knew you were going to miss it. Even the frustrating parts, or the exhaustion that kept you in bed on your free days. This was what you did, you weren’t even sure what it was like any other way.

As requested, Seokjin had managed to book you a couple of weeks of down time before your next project, and the spare time flew by. And your next project was a much smaller role, which was of course fine by you. Then you were accompanying Hoseok for a few events. The chaos of your schedule resumed, and for a long while you’d completely forgotten about the whole fiasco with Jimin.

Eventually your luck ran out and you were thrust into interview after interview. They were always your least favorite part of the process, dealing with probing questions, some horribly shallow and others diving way too deep into your personal life. And you were expected to always smile and laugh, flirt for the sake of looking sweet and charming. You were a good actor, but sometimes interviews just had you feeling fake.

You had a couple with Jimin, but not once did your slip up on set come into the conversation, during your interviews or behind the scenes. Actually, you were pretty sure Jimin was avoiding you. There were no snack or drink deliveries like there had been in the past, or check-ins after particularly uncomfortable interviews. As grateful as you were that he didn’t decide to bring up your emotional outburst, you found your heart sinking in your chest every time he walked past with nothing more than a smile or a nod of acknowledgment.

It was after yet another interview that you were sitting with Hoseok again, curled up on his sofa in the comfort of your pajamas and fuzzy socks. You and Jimin had both recorded interviews, separate but to be aired together, and you were reluctantly watching them now, sharing a snack bowl with your friend. So far the interviews were pretty average, if a bit boring, but your ears perked up at the mention of your name.

“How do you feel working so closely with Y/N given all the rumors that surround the two of you?” The interviewer shifted in her seat, leaning towards Jimin across the table they were sitting at as if they were sharing the juiciest gossip of all time.

Jimin laughed, that sweet sound that always charmed women and men alike.

“Y/N is great to work with, and we’ve known each other for so long. She really is such a wonderful person, easily the most caring and supporting actor on every set she steps foot on.” He said with a bright smile.

Your heart nearly skipped a beat at his kind words. You knew that he was lying, especially after the way you’d acted before. But it still made you happy to hear.

The interviewer smiled knowingly, tapping her pristinely manicured nails against her arm before continuing.

“So you don’t agree with the opinions flying on social media about Y/N’s skill on the big screen? Or lack thereof?” She asked. Jimin tensed, a surprised chuckle passing his lips, but it was humorless.

“Any implication that she is untalented, or that I’ve had any hand in her success is ridiculous. She’s one of the most talented actors I’ve met, and she’s worked hard to be. If anything, I’m honored that she chooses to work with me on so many projects.”

You were admittedly surprised to hear him so quickly shoot down his own fans, or to raise you above him. You huffed out a shocked laugh. What was he thinking?

You grabbed for your phone as the interview continued on. He’d continued defending you, talking about your skill and the light you brought onto set. You couldn’t believe the confidence he had telling his own fans, telling anyone that they shouldn’t talk about you in a negative light. Didn’t he know that telling people what to think could damage his reputation? Didn’t he know that he was speaking too highly of you?

“What are you doing?” Hoseok asked as you scrolled through your contacts.

“I’m calling him.” You answered as if it were obvious. You pressed your phone to your ear, letting it ring.

“What? Why?”

“Because he’s being an idiot, that’s why. I can’t fucking believe-”

“Hello?”

“Park Jimin, what the fuck were you thinking saying those things about me?” You snapped. You heard him sigh on the other end, and you wondered if he’d expected you to call. Your twitter must be exploding with people speculating about his affections for you. If the dating rumors weren’t flying before, they’d certainly be ramping up now.

“I was just telling the truth.”

“I don’t need you to defend me! I can defend myself.”

“I know you can. You weren’t. There’s no point in yelling at me over it, it’s done now.”

“Fuck you, Jimin. Fuck all of this. I don’t need you to defend me, you didn’t have to do that.” You weren’t entirely sure why it was bothering you, maybe it was the way you hated being pitied, or maybe the fact that you couldn’t stand hearing him say things that you didn’t believe.

“I’m not defending you because I have to. I’m defending you because I want to. And you can say whatever you want to me, but I don’t intend to stop. Goodnight, Y/N.”

The silence after he hung up was deafening, and your stomach felt like a restless sea. You lowered your phone, staring at his contact photo. When did things change between you two? When had they gotten better? Or had they gotten worse? You ran your hand over your face, pushing your hair back and sinking lower on Hoseok’s couch.

“Good chat?” He asked. You shot him the sharpest glare you could muster, but he just laughed.

“Shut up. I hate him.”

You were grateful for the lack of interaction over the next several months. You did have a few interviews or promotional appearances with Jimin, but for the most part you barely had to talk to him. And you knew, if you pushed aside your pride and your own stubbornness that you were being childish again. You had overreacted, and he’d stayed ever calm and patient with you.

Now though it was premiere day, and avoiding Jimin for the entire evening (plus the after party that one of the other cast members had roped you into) was going to be damn near impossible. Especially with the way you were all but expected to play up your chemistry for the cameras. Luckily for you, you’d at least have Hoseok to drag along with you.

“How do I look?” You asked him, stepping out of your room where Hoseok was not so patiently waiting for you. Mostly because your driver would be waiting on the both of you if you took much longer. Of course you’d have stylists touching you up before you even faced the public.

“Like a goddess, can we go now?” Hoseok said, not even looking up from his phone. You huffed.

“Oppa,” You whined. “I need your opinion, you’re the one working in the fashion industry, not me.”

He sighed, looking up finally and smiling.

“You look amazing, you always do. You don’t really think I’d let you leave this house looking bad do you?” He asked, standing up to adjust the laces on your brand name heels – damned things were nearly impossible to tie on your own.

“Thanks. Come on, I know you’re itching to go.” You nudged at him once he’d finished fixing your shoes, grabbing your clutch and following him out the door and to the sleek black car awaiting you both.

Once inside, you sighed, wishing you could fiddle with your hair to relieve the nerves. You settled instead for toying with one of the rings that adorned your fingers.

“Why are you so nervous? You’ve gone to, like, a million of these things.” Your friend questioned, helping himself to a tiny bottle of champagne from the mini fridge. You shrugged.

“I guess that shit with Jimin is getting to me, and everything with people attacking me on the internet. I think I’m just ready to be done with this movie.” You tried to explain. And you wanted to go on to explain that you really were grateful to have been given the opportunity you were, but you knew that Hoseok understood without you tripping over your words to explain it.

“Well, you’re almost done. Let’s get this premiere over with.” He offered you a drink, and you greedily took it, thankful for something to smooth the nerves even a little bit.

The ride to the premiere was surprisingly long, plus you had to have your hair and makeup touched up before being delivered at the end of the media walk. Hoseok got out first, meeting you with an arm extended which you took with a smile. It wasn’t your usual smile, this was a smile just for the press.

The two of you walked the length of the carpet arm in arm, stopping to say hi to friends or coworkers and answer a couple questions for interviewers. This was always the most chaotic bit, everyone scrambling for everyone’s attention, camera flashes going off left and right.

When Jimin arrived, everyone knew it, even just from the screams of fans beyond the barriers trying to catch a glimpse of everyone. You tensed, your head instantly turning to see him coming. You knew the cameras were focused on the two of you now, even more so when he rushed through the carpet to catch up with you.

And dammit if he didn’t look stunning in an all black ensemble, his makeup lightly done, and his hair styled perfectly away from his forehead. You swallowed, smiling as he wrapped an arm around you in greeting.

“I got caught up with some other co-stars, I thought I was gonna miss her.” He said, not to you but to the cameras that were trained on you. “Can’t walk the red carpet without my leading lady.”

The simmering irritation at his charm was still there, and the taste of playing up a flirtation for the cameras was sickening. He greeted Hoseok too, and when his arm slipped away from around your shoulders you nearly sighed in relief.

Getting through the rest of the media went quickly, you and Jimin bantering and answering questions as vaguely as you could about the movie. Yes, you were super excited to see everyone’s hard work pay off. No, you couldn’t imagine things going any better. Yes, you were very grateful to work with your crew. Obviously you were nervous. No, you wouldn’t say your parts were any better than anyone else’s.

Finally you were ushered inside by staff. You hadn’t seen Seokjin since you’d gotten in, and you desperately wished you would. Just one more person to play buffer between you and Jimin. But even inside, Jimin’s kind nature didn’t falter. He smiled, telling you both again how wonderful you looked.

“I’m gonna say hi to a few people, but I imagine we’re seated near each other. I’ll see you both in a while.” He flashed a smile, and then he was sweeping off towards where a few of your fellow actors were chatting over complimentary drinks.

“I think that’s the most he’s said to me in months.” You admitted, grabbing a drink from a waiter’s tray and flashing them a grateful smile. You took a sip, and it took a great deal of your self control not to down it all at once. You weren’t normally a heavy drinker, but you were entirely prepared to drink your night away. After all, what is a movie premiere if not a pre-after party?

Once you were surrounded by friends and peers, your anxiety lessened. So much so that you temporarily forgot that you were stressed about the shambles of your relationship with Jimin at all. You chatted and talked with so many people that it half became a blur, catching up with friends from projects you’d worked on years ago. But finally, the movie was set to start, and you had a chance to relax even for a moment.

The movie came out better than even you had expected, though you were hardly surprised by that. The applause and cheers as the movie came to an end and the credits rolled brought on a sense of joy that you couldn’t find anywhere else. Pride, and excitement, and relief all rolling into one big starburst that exploded in your chest.

Hoseok hugged you tight, and you hugged him back, and were given congratulations from many of the guests. One step after the next until, finally, you were all dispersing for the after party.

The after party was held at someone or other’s hotel, with lights dimmed low and music pounding through the speakers. It reminded you of the sorts of things your friends had thrown in college but on a much bigger scale and with much more expensive booze. Which you were admittedly grateful for as you were given a mixed drink by one of the bartenders serving everyone.

You’d lost Hoseok somewhere with some guy who you were sure you’d met before but couldn’t quite recall. So you were happy to be settled by the bar, your phone in hand and eyes scanning the crowd. Every once in a while you’d find yourself chit chatting with other cast members, like Sammi who was getting a refill and decided to chat with you about her on again off again relationship with a dancer from Europe who you’d met maybe once or twice, or Max who was desperately trying to get you on their team for a drinking game they were playing on the other side of the room.

Now, however, you were chatting it up with Namjoon, one of the assistant directors on the project and a film prodigy really. He was sipping a cola, you’d heard that he hardly drank. And it was a nice conversation, discussing your relief at how well the film had come out and how you hoped it would be received.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Namjoon asked you after a while. You were on your third drink just since getting to the hotel, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t walking the line of intoxication, nearly toppling headfirst into the deep end. You nodded, sipping from the margarita in your hand.

“Sure, I’m an open book.” You agreed. He nodded, still seeming to mull over the question in his mind.

“I don’t mean this to be taken the wrong way, but that day on set,” He began. You tensed on the barstool beside him, shifting and smoothing your hand over your thighs. “Where did that emotion come from when you went off script? It was so powerful to watch back, and I was curious if it was maybe something that could be harnessed and used in scenes.”

His question was innocent, a genuine question from someone wholly passionate about their work, and you could respect and appreciate that. It made you smile. You tapped your fingers against the stem of your glass.

“I guess…I’d had a realization recently about the way my relationship with Jimin works, and I sort of let the irritation I felt in that moment get the best of me. I’m not sure if that was because of stress or exhaustion, but I don’t usually let things bother me like that.” You took a drink, thinking over his thought process. “I guess it could be used in a scene, the intensity of it. But I think anyone who has ever been overcome with emotion can pull that out with practice.”

Namjoon made a sound of amazement beside you, and you laughed. You hadn’t meant to sound all wise or anything, so you waved it off.

“Okay, we need shots. Then you’re dancing with me. Yeah?” You pointed to him, already turning to get a bartender’s attention before he could answer. This night was supposed to be fun, and most of your friends – Hoseok included – were on the dance floor that took up a great deal of the room.

You would have known that three shots of tequila in a row was a bad idea had they not been chasing several other drinks. But the looseness in your body was nice, and so was the way that the drinks made your anxiety stop spinning in your head. The music was loud, and you’d probably have the worst hangover in the morning, but you didn’t care as you danced in the crowd, your back pressed to Namjoon’s front as you both moved to the steady beat of the song and giggled into each other’s ears.

Hoseok appeared in front of you after several songs spent in your own little world with Namjoon, and you beamed at him.

“Hoseok oppa!” You cheered, reaching to grab his arm. He smiled back, looking over your shoulder at the man who was still holding you tight by your waist.

“Hey, sunshine. Good to see you’re having fun.” He said, holding his drink out of your reach when you reached for it.

“Give.” You ordered sternly, and he laughed, this time in your face with all the scornful mirth of an older brother.

“You look like you’ve had enough. It’s getting late, maybe I should get you home.” He said. You shook your head.

“No, we’re dancing! Right, Joonie? I can’t go home now.” You said, dragging the older man into your conversation. He opened his mouth to speak, but Hoseok held up a finger to stop him.

“Can I borrow her for a bit, Joonie?” He asked with a charming smile. Namjoon looked at you for a second before nodding and taking a step back. Well, as much of a step as he could with the crowd of people you were in the middle of.

Hoseok grabbed you by your arm with the firm but gentle grip that you’d learned meant he meant business. You followed his lead, weaving out of the crowd into the open space along the wall. It wasn’t as stuffy in the open air of the room, and the music didn’t seem to pound as hard, but it sucked the adrenaline you were riding on with it, bringing instead a sleepiness that you weren’t fond of. Maybe it really was later than you realized.

“I was having fun. Party pooper.” You pouted. He pouted back.

“You wouldn’t be having a whole lot of fun if your arch nemesis decided to cause a scene. He’s been glaring at Namjoon like he wants to kill him for the past half hour.” He pointed out. You didn’t even process how quickly your eyes flickered around the room for Jimin, and you deflated when you didn’t find him.

“Seriously, Hobi, I’m fine, I just want–” You paused, swallowing and then turning to look at him. “Actually I’m gonna throw up. But then I’m gonna go have fun.”

He didn’t get a chance to speak before you were bolting through the crowd, and he was following after you as best he could. However he could only go as far as the restroom door.

Alcohol, you decided, was much nicer going down than it was coming up. And even then, it wasn’t great. You heard Hobi’s voice from the door, calling in to check up on you. And eventually you managed to haul yourself off the floor and rinse your mouth before going back out to meet him. Your stomach was churning uneasily, and your skin was a little sticky with sweat, but you were determined that this was not going to ruin your night.

“I’m fine, oppa, I just wanna go dance.” You begged as he wrapped his arms around your waist. You would have fought harder if you’d had it in you. But fighting was just wasting your energy, and the tiredness was getting harder to ignore.

“There’ll be other parties. You’re going home. And you’re gonna call me to thank me in the morning.” He said. You were still arguing as he herded you towards a wall you could lean on while he grabbed both of your jackets.

“Hey, is she okay?” A voice asked, and you looked up so fast that it made you dizzy. Jimin. He was standing beside you, looking more concerned than you’d ever seen, and it made you giggle.

“Yeah, she’s just really drunk. And we both know she doesn’t hold her liquor well.” Hoseok explained, moving to wrap your jacket around you. As you stood up away from the wall, your body began to topple forward a bit, and Jimin grabbed at your waist to steady you. You looked at him, eyes wide as you realized the proximity between the two of you.

“Right. I can take her home. If you want. She’s closer to mine than yours. And there were some people who wanted to talk to you inside.” Jimin told Hoseok, still holding you up. His grip wasn’t particularly tight, but it nearly felt possessive. And there was something in the shared gaze of the two men that you missed, a desperation on both ends. Jimin clearly wanted to help, and Hoseok knew that even if you hated him for it, you needed the opportunity to talk.

“You have my number. Text me when you get her in, call if you need anything.” Hoseok told him, slowly letting go of you just to lean down to your level. “Behave yourself, don’t give the kid too much trouble.”

You nodded. You could smell Jimin’s cologne, it was the one you’d gotten him for his birthday during filming. Did he wear it with the intention of you noticing? Did he even remember that you’d gotten it for him? You leaned into his chest, your eyes closing for a minute. You exhaled slowly.

“Come on, let’s get you into a car and back to your house.” He said. His voice was soft, and it made you smile dreamily. He cared. Somebody properly cared.

“Okay.”

Getting you out of his car and into your house was one of the most difficult tasks that Jimin had ever been faced with, but he was patient with you as you giggled and hung on him, settling you down on the edge of your bed and leaving you alone to get you a glass of water.

He’d only been in your home a couple of times before, but despite its size and the overabundance of name brand furnishings, it was pretty easy to find his way around. He returned to your room to find you clumsily climbing back into bed, having managed to wiggle out of your dress and into a t-shirt. He sat the glass down on your bedside stand.

“Hey, before you sleep, let me help you take your makeup off.” He said, pointing at you and waiting for you to nod so he’d at least know you’d heard him. He nodded back, heading for the bathroom attached to your room and trying not to find anything he shouldn’t as he dug through your drawers. Finally though he came out with a package of makeup remover wipes, sitting at the edge of your bed. By the time he came back, you’d already gulped down most of the water.

You blinked up at him as he leaned forward, his finger tucking under your chin to guide your face. You closed your eyes as the proximity began making you feel a bit sick to your stomach. You really didn’t feel like throwing up again.

Jimin was careful as he diligently wiped off every trace of makeup you had on your face. He’d seen you bare faced before, but this was different. Seeing you without makeup, in your pajamas, and curled up in the safety of your own bed was too intimate. Especially when you were drunk and probably would have told him to get out had you not been.

He watched as you grabbed the stuffed dinosaur that sat on your pillow, huddling it to your chest and curling up beneath your blanket. He reached out, smoothing the fabric up around you nicely. You smiled at him, and he had to swallow around the lump in his throat.

“Are you comfortable?” He asked you, carefully removing the hair pins that he could see with you laid down, setting them in a pile on your stand. You nodded.

“Mhm, ‘m so comfy.” Your voice was slurring, but you sounded happy at least, and he liked that.

“Alright. I’m gonna catch the light. You can call my phone if you need me.” He smiled affectionately as he flicked the light off. You made a soft noise at the change, rolling over to look at him.

“Jimin,” You called. He stopped in the doorway to look at you. “Will you stay with me?”

His lips parted like he was about to speak, but your desperate look was enough to shut him up. He nodded, padding his way over to your bed and sitting at the edge. You reached out, whining until he scooched close enough for you to touch him.

It was quiet for a while as he sat leaned against the headboard, your hand holding one of his arms in the dark. What was there to say anyway? He was just happy that you were making an attempt at resting, and you were happy that you were finally getting the opportunity to be close to him. A dream come true.

After a few minutes, Jimin was convinced you were asleep, your eyes had closed and your grip on his arm had loosened, but when he tried to move, you grasped at his shirt again, eyes opening to look at him like a kicked puppy.

“It’s really late, I should be going home.” He said softly. You looked away, slowly letting go of his shirt.

“You said you’d stay.”

“You’re drunk, you don’t know what you’re doing right now. It wouldn’t be right of me to take advantage of that. I’ve been selfish enough with you.”

“I’m drunk, not stupid.” You huffed, curling up tighter on yourself. “You make me so angry, do you know that?”

Jimin chuckled.

“Everyone knows that, sweetheart. You don’t exactly try to hide it.” He said. You smiled. Yeah, you didn’t try to hide it, but he wasn’t understanding what you were trying to say.

“You don’t get it. You are so kind, and so talented, but you’re so insecure about it and it makes me angry. Then you take it out on me. Do you know that? You always have to criticize me.” You huffed as Jimin moved to stretch out on your bed, folding his hands behind his back. “You always criticize me and nobody else, and it makes me feel like maybe I’m the problem. Am I the problem?”

He closed his eyes.

“No, you’re not the problem. I’m the problem.”

“You’re too good to be a problem. You’re my problem. You make my head all stupid and I can’t focus when you’re around.”

“I’m sorry.”

You couldn’t tell if he was being serious. You didn’t really care at the moment.

“I like you so much and I shouldn’t. That’s not fair to me. I can’t like you when that’s exactly what everyone expects of me. I’m only popular because of you, did you know that too?”

He had heard, though it was impossible for him to actually believe. Not when you were talented and stunning and so ambitious it physically hurt. No, you paved your own way, he was grateful to even be associated with you at all. But you didn’t see it that way, he knew that. But other people didn’t know you, and you were never very good at giving yourself proper credit.

“That’s not true.” He told you.

“But everyone else thinks it’s true. So isn’t it true? That’s how that works, Jimin. If enough people believe it, then it doesn’t matter what is actually true. And everyone believes that I’m only where I am because of you. So I am. I don’t even know what it means to not be in your shadow. For as long as I can remember it’s been Jimin and his leading lady. It’s never been just me. I don’t know what it means to just be me.”

You squeezed your eyes shut. You didn’t mean to think about that, it made your chest feel hollow.

“I hate all of it. I hate that I can’t stop thinking about you, and that I want to impress you so badly, and I hate that I know I’m in love with you.”

Jimin stopped, his breath catching in his throat. Love. You love him, and you were hurting, and he was helpless in fixing it. You didn’t want him to fix it, and somehow that was the part that made him smile. He knew you’d rather fight your own battles, he’d always admired you for that.

“I think you should sleep now, it’s late.” He said. You nodded, stifling a yawn and scooting closer until you were pressing against his arm.

“You’ll stay?” You asked.

“You’ll be angry with me in the morning.” He said. That was just a fact, he knew that whether you remembered tonight or not, you’d be feeling a lot of things all at once in the morning. You didn’t answer, already sound asleep. He sighed, closing his own eyes. The morning’s arguments were best left for the morning. You clearly needed rest more than anything, and he wasn’t going to leave your side if you wanted him there.

“I’m sorry I hurt you,” He whispered, not wanting to disturb your sleep. “I’ll try to make it up to you.”

The morning came with a terrible hangover, which was to be expected. It was early afternoon before you woke up, burying yourself in your blankets to hide from the midday sunshine filtering through your window. You didn’t really remember a whole lot of the night before, let alone how you’d gotten home. Hopefully you’d managed to not make a complete fool of yourself, but there weren’t many things you’d put past your drunk self.

You stayed hidden away under your blankets for some time before finally poking your head out and finding your phone. Your head was throbbing, but hiding wasn’t going to make that go away. There was a glass of water and a couple painkillers on the bedside stand, and you smiled a bit. Hoseok, you figured. He was usually the one to take care of you when you were intoxicated – not that this happened all the time. You took the pills, downing the whole glass of water in one go.

There were about a hundred notifications on your phone, most of them from your various social media, pictures and videos from the after party and the premiere. And a voicemail from Seokjin that you had every intention of ignoring for the day. There were also a few from Hoseok checking in on you and scolding you for drinking so much when you knew you couldn’t hold your liquor. But the one that caught your eye was a single one from Jimin.

I let myself out this morning, you seemed pretty well out. Sorry for intruding last night, let me know you’re okay when you wake up.

You stared at the words on the screen, trying to make sense of them. There was a brief memory from the night before, dancing with Namjoon while Jimin watched, preening at the fact that you’d managed to make him jealous. Then another; waking in the middle of the night to Jimin’s arms wrapped around you, your head on his chest. You swallowed. Had you gone home with him? Had things taken a turn for the worse?

You did the obvious and called Hoseok before you even read all of his texts. He picked up, sounding much more chipper than you were at the time.

“Did I go home with Park Jimin?” You asked quickly before he was finished with his hello.

“You know, you sure interrupt a lot for someone who is calling me on my only day off this week.” He scolded, and you could hear his smile. You rolled your eyes even though he couldn’t see you.

“Hoseok, please.” You said. You couldn’t hear him, but you imagined he was frozen in place given the long silence that followed your begging. He wasn’t accustomed to hearing you say please, not to him anyways. You’d both dropped that pretty soon into your friendship.

“He drove you home, you were really drunk.” He told you after a minute. You nodded. You weren’t wearing the same clothes as the night before, those had been discarded on your floor. You didn’t remember changing, and your stomach dropped at the idea that you and Jimin may have…

“I gotta go. Thank you.” You said, barely catching him asking you to wait as you hung up. You felt sick, partly from the anxiety, and partly from the hangover you were suffering from. You stared down at your phone.

You didn’t talk to anyone else for a while, just trying to wrap your head around whatever had happened the night before. You knew drinking so much was going to be a terrible idea, but you weren’t always the best with self control when you were as stressed as you had been. You considered texting Jimin, but you never did, too afraid to interact with him now that you were sober.

Whatever you’d been feeling for him was pointless, and you didn’t see any reason to embarrass yourself more by pushing the point. And maybe he had just harmlessly brought you home, you wouldn’t put it past him because even when he was tearing you to shreds, Jimin was so entirely good. He wouldn’t do anything you hadn’t wanted him to. Which was the reason you were worried actually, there were so many things you wanted Jimin to do. And sometimes people regret their actions in the morning light.

Later in the evening when you had finished eating your dinner and were forcing yourself to think about anything other than the empty space in your memory where the previous night should be, you listened to Seokjin’s voicemail. He’d been contacted about getting you on a new movie. And so soon after your last premiere. You texted him back. No promises, but you’d hear it out.

You should have known. You stared at the paperwork that had been passed to you and Seokjin. Mostly so you wouldn’t have to look at Jimin who was sitting on the other side of the long table you were sitting at with his own agents.

The role was one you could easily pass on, but the pay would be nice, and it was different from what you were used to. You wouldn’t be playing directly opposite Jimin. All in all, from your own experiences, it was a good deal. But there were still reservations in your mind, a nervousness that you couldn’t shake.

“I don’t think I’m right for this role. I’m planning on taking some time off anyway after my last big project, but I think you can find someone better for this.” He said after a few moments of quiet. The entire table looked at him in disbelief then. It wasn’t the first time Jimin had ever turned down a role, but it was certainly a surprise for him to turn down one that could be big for him.

“Jimin,” You said. He looked over at you, and your heart leapt into your throat at the look in his eye. You’d never seen this side of him before, the vulnerable part that he tried so hard to hide. “You should think this through.”

“I have. I’m sorry, but I can’t accept this role.” He stood, bowing his head politely towards the table, then turned to leave with his manager and agents hot on his heels. You stood quickly, shooting Seokjin an apologetic look, but he waved you off. You followed Jimin’s lead, apologizing quickly to everyone and heading for the door.

“Jimin, wait. Can we talk?” You called. He was stopped at the elevator down the hall, turning to look up when you spoke. “Get coffee with me? There’s a cafeteria downstairs.”

He nodded, turning to speak to his team before letting them step into the waiting elevator, leaving just you and Jimin in the hall. You felt small in such an open space, about to be open with him about your emotions. Not your favorite thing to do anyway, actually.

The walk to the cafeteria was silent between the two of you, neither one of you ready to broach the subject until you were sitting down and had something to sip at. You were actually sort of grateful for the couple of minutes to gather your thoughts in a somewhat coherent manner.

“You can find a seat, I’ll get drinks.” Jimin said as you both entered the room. You smiled a little bit just at the sound of his voice. He sounded more relaxed now than he had been in the meeting room. That eased your nerves a little bit, or maybe it was just being close to him that made your mind quiet down.

“Right. Thank you.” You found a table in the corner with a decent view out one of the windows. It wasn’t important to have a nice view necessarily, but the flowers blooming in the small courtyard beneath a stunning blue sky would make a good distraction from the uncomfortable conversation you were going to be having soon.

You watched out the window at the birds swooping through the sky, tapping your fingertips against the table. You wondered what flying felt like; being able to go, and do, and be without worrying about anything tying you down. You hadn’t had a taste of actual freedom in so long, and you wondered if you’d give up your career for it.

You looked up as Jimin pulled out his own seat, placing your coffee in front of you. You thanked him, bringing it up to take a sip and humming. Just the way you liked it.

“You wanted to talk.” Jimin said, half questioning and half reminding you. You nodded a tiny bit, training your eyes on the outside. If there was a choice between opening up like this to Jimin and death by 1,000 cuts, you’d take the cuts. Unfortunately for you, there wasn’t such a choice.

“You should take the role if you want it.” You said. That wasn’t all you wanted to say, but it seemed the most important at present. Jimin shifted in his seat, mulling over his words.

“It’ll be better if you take yours. And I figure…I mean, you wanted space from me. You don’t want it to seem like you’re relying on me to get ahead. So I’ll stay out of your way.” He said. You scoffed.

“I don’t need you to forfeit your roles for me.” You told him.

“It’s not my role until I accept it. And I didn’t accept it.”

“Stop arguing over wording. You know exactly what I’m saying.” You shook your head. “No, I’m not accepting the role. I didn’t want to anyway. I’m taking a break.”

“A break?”

You nodded, tracing your fingertips along the side of your cup.

“Yeah. Maybe I’ll give something else a try.” You laughed a little. “I’m not even sure what I like outside of acting. Maybe I’ll become a photographer. I used to want to be one when I was little. Before we met.”

“If this is about the whole ‘I don’t know who I am in your shadow’ thing that you said after the party, I’ll stay out of your way. Don’t quit your dream because of me.” He said, leaning forward. There was still a table’s distance between you, but having him press that little bit closer had you swallowing hard. Had you said that? That you were in his shadow, that you didn’t know who you were? It wasn’t a lie.

“That’s not…I don’t want you out of the way, okay? I don’t know what I said that night, or what you think I want, but I don’t want you to leave.” You told him firmly, meeting his eye almost desperately. After all of this, the last thing you wanted was Jimin gone.

“I don’t want to discredit you just by existing with you. And I don’t want you to think that I do.” He said, pushing away his untouched coffee like the thought of drinking it was entirely disgusting.

“I don’t think that, Jimin. I don’t think I ever really did, but I didn’t know who else to blame. It’s easier acting like you were the bad guy. At least then I had someone to take everything out on, and I think I was jealous. I was sick of everyone putting you on a pedestal and treating me like I wasn’t even good enough to be seen in the same films as you.” You rambled before stopping in taking a deep breath. “It was immature, I’m sorry. But I know you don’t mean anything bad.”

Jimin took a moment, watching as you rambled on about your own insecurities. He’d never realized you’d hated him so much, maybe because he was blinded by his own admiration for you. And now you looked so broken as you sat across from him, brimming with nerves and frustration at your own thoughts. He laughed.

“You didn’t ever change, did you know that?” He asked. You paused where you were in the middle of bringing your drink to your mouth again. “You still ramble on when you get nervous, and you get angry when you’re insecure. Just like when we first met.”

You glared at him, biting your tongue to keep from snapping at his unnecessary observation. No need to prove his point by getting an attitude.

“I’ve been in love with you since we were kids. I had just given up on you seeing me as anything more than a rival.” He looked positively giddy, and you were struggling to wrap your mind around what he was hinting at.

“Jimin, I…I don’t know what to say to that.” You admitted.

“Say you’ll go on a date with me. I know you love me, you’ve told me so. And you clearly respect me. And you know I would do anything to help you chase your dreams. As an actor or as a photographer. You could clean animal stables if you wanted and I’d still do anything to support you.” His confession was catching you entirely off guard. You hadn’t come here to confess to him, not exactly, but your heart was beating out of your chest. “Tell me what you want from me and I’ll do it.”

“I want you to do what you want.” You said after another few beats of silence.

“I want to be with you. No matter what the media, or fans, or anyone else has to say about it. At least try it out.” He said, reaching out to touch your hand. He brushed his fingertips along the back of your hand before intertwining your fingers.

“Okay. If you’re sure.”

“I’ve never been this sure of anything in my life.”

You couldn’t stifle your smile anymore, a swarm of butterflies erupting in your stomach and tickling a giggle out of you.

“I’m still not taking that role. I don’t need people thinking I get all my roles because you’re in love with me.”

Jimin laughed, and you swore you’d never heard a sound so pretty in your entire life. You smiled.

“I don’t care what roles you take, I just care that you’re happy.” He promised. And for the first time since you’d met him years before, you actually believed every single word, no hesitations. He wanted you happy, and you wanted him even happier yet.

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