If We Live Fast Let Us Die Young

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What does a woman running late for her job with less than a quarter gallon of gas and a horse have in common? Well, eventually they both run out of gas. Or was that just you? Probably. Here you were on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere trying to contact your job, your friends, anyone really. So much for a support system since your cries for help went unanswered before you completely lost battery. Yeah, you forgot to charge your phone after a night out with your friends, go figure.

You let out a resigned sigh as you sit in your car with the door open as the beautifully unpleasant waft of cow dung and freshly cut grass assaulted your senses. Fully giving up, you reach for the coffee you made 2 hours ago, grimacing at the relevation that it was now more like a nice cold coffee. Looking at the scenery, you tried to make yourself feel better. Hey, at least the cows are cute right? They’re staring at you with their beady little eyes, nothing behind them as they chewed away at some of the grass you strongly smelled. Just then, a cow came up close and you almost considered touching it like you would your cat Oreo, the sweet little thing. You refrained, of course, as you hadn’t hit a complete mental rock bottom at that point yet.

Just then, the cow took a huge dump right then to you, the smell from before intensifying due to obvious reasons.

You cursed the damned cow and fled the scene locking your car. That was definitely the motivation you needed to look for help nearby. Cows meant farms, right? And farms meant people. People that could help you get home. To Oreo. Or your dead end job. As you walked along the worn down fence separating you from the not-so-cute cows, you really took in your scenery. This was always a busy road as cars would often zoom by due to the scarcity of police officers in such a rural area as well as the naturally high speed limit of 60.

Nobody wants to get stuck here.

Literally no one.

It may be in the middle of nowhere, but it was quite nice. There was this thing called nature all around you if you ignored the 6 lanes that were present to your left, the 6 lanes you were speeding through only minutes before. The most of nature you usually get is the trees planted between pavement in front of your apartment building and your little cacti named Kiwi. This was kind of a nice change of pace, even if you hated to admit it.

Walking through dirt in heels is not ideal, but it had to do as you couldn’t stand the thought of dirt clinging to your feet, unknowing when you’d next take a shower. Even though you walked for an eternity, you could see no sign of life other than the few animals scattered throughout, which definitely didn’t calm your nerves.

You stopped for a second and leaned against the fence post, ignoring the possible germs it could bring with it, and blew raspberries as entertainment. You were really teaching your whits end. You may ask yourself, why don’t you flag down a car? Well, no. That’s why. We don’t do that around here.

Moving on, you continued your trek and went on for a bit more, thanking your decision to get comfortable heels. In the faint distance, you could see some sort of house structure. You squinted to better make it out and you realized it was a farm! It was quite a stellar incentive to increase the pace of your steps and you got to the entrance in only a few minutes.

You groaned in discomfort at the unusual amount of physical exercise you had to do this early in the morning and fixed up your appearance. Bun, redone. Skirt, straightened out. Shirt, saved from wrinkling. Sweat, gone. You marched up to the front door and knocked on the door only to be met with silence. You waited a few minutes until you knocked again. Met with the same reaction, you walked away and noticed an open gate. You walked towards it and sank into mud. Internally crying you marched on and looked out to see different farm animals. Horses, cows, sheep, pigs, anything you can think of was there. Whoever was running this shit meant business, you thought.

You struggled through the viscous mud and rounded a corner only to your greatest joy to find a person! Finally! With renewed vigor, you splashed until you could get in earshot of him.

“Hey! Hi! Uhm I broke down down the road and I was…” you trailed off as he turned around and you caught a glimpse of your possible savior. You were so consumed in your will to go home you never even surveyed who you were approaching. He had long, fluffy black hair that spilled over his forehead in curtain bangs and gorgeous silver dangling from his ears, nose, mouth, and eyebrow. A beautifully strong neck with a gorgeously buff body peeking out from the loosely hanging overalls he had on. His Timberlands were covered in mud and possibly fences but that didn’t deter you from appreciating the beauty of this specimen you found while you should’ve been at work. You almost were glad you broke down, if the consequences weren’t as bad as they are with your job. Almost. A goth cowboy farmer boy? You were signed up since the moment he turned around. His beautiful doe almond eyes shone as they looked at you in seemingly both surprise and concern.

“…iss? Miss? Are you okay?” You blinked a few times and willed yourself to snap out of it. You weren’t a teenager for goodness’ sake! You smiled bashfully and apologized, then explained your situation to the best of your ability. He nodded along and gasped at the right parts and you didn’t forget to include how your coffee had gone cold untouched. Offering his deepest condolences, he offered to make you coffee while you were tracking a bead of sweat running down his hairline onto his chest bones.

“Miss? Is everything alright? I think you’d better come inside, the heat could be getting to you.” You considered declining for a good few seconds before deciding, fuck it. You might as well. You took him up on his offer and he took you into his home. It was nicely decorated in almost a modern barn house way, but instead of white, the most common color was black. From the front door a loveseat was poised in front of a old-looking TV with an equally antique radio which emitted something you remembered from your ballet dance recitals you used to do. You nearly cringed, but kept scanning your eyes around. Next to you, on the opposite side of the living room area, was the dining room. Dark oak wooden chairs paired with a beautifully crafted table. What caught your attention was the fact that each table leg and every chair had intricately carved details, stories you remember you’d read as a child. You lightly grazed the nearest chair, admiring the craftsmanship before the man turned around after taking off his shoes and saw you halfway through his home.

“You like ‘em, miss?” You turned around a blushes slightly, caught in your act. You nodded, “yes, it’s gorgeous. Ive never seen something like this. Who made it?” You looked at him expecting a designer’s name or something like a neighbor gifted it to him but instead was met with, “oh I did, miss. My pride and joy. Spent a few months and then some on each piece.” Your eyes grew in size as your shock increased. You weren’t expecting it, but it also wasn’t too surprising. There’s not a single soul for miles around, after all. He chucked at your reaction.

“These are absolutely beautiful, uhm…” you looked at him in question. He lit up remembering he never told you his name, a shining smile crossing his face.

“Ah, name’s Jungkook, miss! Jeon Jeongguk. Sorry for not introducing myself sooner. And you are…?” You told him your name and smiled back, albeit a little more reserved than he was. He offered to make you some food and some coffee to replace the one you couldn’t drink, something which you pretended to ponder accepting before you gave him a resound yes. You’d take anything he gave you. Poison, food, a place to stay, his bed, his cock. Woah. Okay. Take a step back partner. You rounded the wall which separated the living room from the kitchen and surveyed the area once more. To your left there was a fairly new-looking kitchen with a table and two chairs. It definitely seemed like it had more worn and tear compared to the beautiful craftsmanship you’d had the opportunity to touch. The dark theme continued even with the fridge being a darker steel, the other appliances following. It all seemed pretty high tech, so it got you curious.

“Hey, do you have good electricity here?” He looked over at you from where he was whisking up something for you to eat and smiled, looking back down.

“Well, kinda…? Nothin’ like what ya get at the city I’ll tell you that, missy. Still works well enough, anyway.” You wondered how he got so much metal on him if he seems to speak like he’s never gone to the city, so it prompts you to ask, “how’d you get so many piercings this far out? If you don’t mind me asking of course.” He lets out a chuckle and turns his attention fully to you.

“Well, I have city friends. They come every once in a while. I been a country boy since I was kickin’, if ya wanted to know.” He humorously smiled and went back to his task. You sat down at the table, feeling everything shift slightly under your weight. You took out your phone and tried to see if by some miracle it started working, but to no avail. Looking up and seeing you, he remembered something he was going to tell you, eyebrows rising.

“Ah, missy! I forgot to tell ya! I got a land phone with connection you can use! It slipped my mind. And yeah, no, I don’t got any chargers. Sorry.” He answered quickly before you could even think to ask, but you were grateful for at least having a method of communication. You took him up on his offer and searched your brain for a possible phone number you could call. He took you to the antique method of communication and you dislodged it from its rightful place. The phone beeped as you punched in the numbers into the number pad. At least it isn’t a rotary phone. It rang for a few seconds before the other person picked up.

“Hello? Who’s this?”

“Hey mom, it’s me,” you informed.

“Oh my goodness, my darling! Ive been trying to reach you!”she exclaimed, worry evident in her voice.

“I know, I ran out of battery. A nice guy lent me his phone and I was able to call.”

“A nice guy, you say?” Her voice took a suggestive turn, a stark contrast to her earlier one.

“Mom, please. Im stranded like forty minutes away from the city.” You begged, hoping you could reason with her. Yeah, you were 25, but you didn’t need to settle down at that age! If only your mom didn’t think otherwise.

“Right. Well, I can go get you if you tell me where it is possibly uhhh…tomorrow? Tomorrow mornin—no! Afternoon! Sorry, work. Yeah.” You could hear her nervously scrambling to correct herself, knowing this was just some ploy to get you to know the guy.

“Mom?”

“Yeah?”

“I know what you’re trying to do.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about! Now hang tight and make a friend! Loveyoubye!” “Mo—!”before you could get another word in, she hung up. The line went dead and you hung it back up, leaning against the wall. You grimaced for the second time that day. She was really doing this to you. Well, the more you thought about it, the less bad it seemed. You were stranded in a farm with a hot goth boy who carved as a hobby and seemed to know how to cook. What’s better? Good in bed? God, how you wanted to find out.

Walking back towards the kitchen, you caught a glimpse of what you could only guess was his bedroom. His bed was dressed in black silk sheets which reflected the afternoon light and the rest of the room followed the dark theme. Before you took too long, you willed yourself towards the kitchen and sat down with a huff.

“What’d they say?”

“My mom said she can’t pick me up until tomorrow afternoon,” you groaned. He awwed at the statement and finished the preparations to his “simple meal”. He brought 2 plates and a cup in front of you, which you thanked him for before you surveyed the plates. The first bigger plate contained some what looked like chicken and a salad while the smaller plate contained a prettily plated apple pie. The cup, beautifully enough, contained some steaming coffee. Your eyes almost watered as you thanked him and began eating.

“Sorry I cant offer you anything better, miss. If i had know a pretty little thing like you would break down and need my help I would’ve been better prepared.” You blushed at his statement and commented on how good the meat and veggies were.

“Raised the meat and got the veggies from my garden myself! All pretty fresh, since I only killed the poor thing a day ago.” He exclaimed proudly, a sad quality to his voice after the second part. He cheered up pretty fast and said,” and I baked the apple pie a few hours ago actually! I hope you like it, too.” He finished. He was almost bashful. You complimented his food and he informed you he still had some stuff to do out in the farm.

“Ah! If you need any fresh clothes you can look through my stuff and find something,” he finished with a smile. You thanked him and continued eating as he walked out the house and went on with his day. The house was now silent save for the occasional animal noise and the movement of grass with breeze. Finishing your last bite of apple pie, you got up with the coffee and headed towards the assumed bedroom. He didn’t mention where it was, but you doubted he cared whether you looked through his stuff or not. Not like he was here anyway. You set the cup down on one of his dressers and rummaged for something to wear. The uniform was getting pretty stuffy in the heat of the house, so a nice shirt and some pants would do the trick. You took off all your clothes and considered taking off your underwear too. What if something ends up happening? You want to sleep with him so bad. Ultimately, you took everything off. Naked, you took his most see-through-looking white shirt and a pair of his boxers, the only bottom part that fit after tying it a bit. You ran your hands between your thighs to quell your excitement at not having any undergarments and lowly squealed. You hoped your pressing didn’t show how wet you were. You went out to find him with his shoes on, even if they didn’t fit. Hey, they felt like you were wearing your dad’s shoes, but it got the job done. You found him feeding the horses at the stable before what seemed like bath time, soap and a hose ready to go.

“Hey!” You exclaimed. He looked your way and immediately almost choked in surprise, his face turning red.

“I see you… uhm… got comfortable, miss.” He choked out. You internally grinned and nodded,” yeah these fit best and they’re quite nice. Is it okay?”you feigned innocence, pretending like you didn’t elaborately search for both of these pieces with a goal in mind. He shook his head and informed you he was doing exactly what you thought, bathing the horses. It seemed like he was doing that before you got here as he was on the last horse. You asked if you could help and he accepted, smiling humorously. At what, you don’t know. He let the hose run over the horse for a bit before he shut it off, something that gave you an idea. You were going to make it as messy as you could and try to get yourself completely wet, making the already almost see through shirt stick to your body. The perfect plan, if anyone asked you. It would make him want you, you were sure. At the very least start wanting you. What you didn’t know, is that he was restraining himself to the highest degree from pouncing on you right now. You were beautiful from the moment he saw you and he could tell you found him attractive. This act of dressing up in these kinds of clothes just further confirmed it. You lathered the horse in its special soap and made sure to stick to it accidentally, dampening your shirt. Your nipples poked from the cold and wetness and you could even see the pink of them. Jeongguk turned on the hose and you “accidentally” didn’t move out the way. You exclaimed in pretend shock and he immediately shut off the water and ran over to you. You were completely soaked and you feigned sadness over being all wet. He knew what you were getting at. He knew it wasn’t a mistake. He was onto you.

“Oh no miss! You didn’t move out the way! Sorry.” He feigned as well. You sulked a little and went to go back to giving the horse a second coat of soap when he caught you by your waist. He pushed your body against his and got close to your face, so much so you could count the freckles on his cheeks. You only squealed lightly from shock.

“I know what you’re trying to do, miss. You know, trying to be innocent doesn’t work on me,” he breathed out, voice husky. You blushed, not thinking you’d be found out so quickly.

“Let’s say we skip this part and get straight to business. What do you say?” He inquires, a raises brow making his piercing shine in the light. You nod and he presses harder.

“Yes. Or. No,” he presses. You breathe out a “yes” and he immediately smacks your mouth against his. His tongue makes his way into your mouth and both of your tongues dance together. He pats the horse and it starts to trot away, almost as if understanding it was a moment not for its eyes. He walks you back, still making out, until you reach what you think might be hay and he breaks the kiss only to press you down against it. Breathing heavily, he goes back for another kiss and begins moving his hands over your body. He touches your tits and squeezes them both, arousing a surprised moan from you. He breaks the kiss and begins flicking your hard nipples through the fabric.

“This is what you wanted, right? Right, little miss?” You moan in response and he spanks your tits.

“Give me and answer, missy.” You flush answer, “yes, this is exactly what I wanted please don’t stop.” He lowers his head onto your nipples and begins sucking them and moving them around, playing with them like they’re joysticks. You don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on. You can physically feel your juices dripping down your thighs. You moan feverishly, almost like you’ve never been touched by a man. He then, bites your nipple and stretches out before letting it go. Without warning, he presses against your center and you let out a choked moan.

“Look at you. I can feel how wet you are, baby. You haven’t had anyone as good as me, now have you?” He asks and you answer with a resound no. No man has ever been able to make you into a pool of goo and have you waterfall from your pussy like he has. He returns his assault on your clothed boobs while keeping pressure on your cunt and you cant take it anymore. You begin rubbing against his leg and he stops his manouvers completely. He stares at you as you rub against his leg like a bitch in heat, leaving a noticeable dark spot on his denim overall pants. He chuckles darkly and removes his thigh causing you to whine. He urges you to open your eyes, something you didn’t even know you had done, and held your face firmly to look straight at him.

“Did i say you could use me to get off? Hmm? You were rubbing against me like a fucking whore. Are you that desperate, huh? You wanna get fucked that badly?” He spoke so disrespectfully to you, but god. You fucking loved it. It was only a few seconds before you started to beg. “Yes, I’m your whore. I want your cock so badly, please.” He hummed at your answer and left you altogether. You protested only to be told to shut up. You did so, and was incredibly turned on in the process. He came back with what looked like restraints.

“I usually use these with the horses, but who would’ve thought I’d have to use them on some pretty little slut who stumbled across me today,” he smirked. You whined and playfully fought against his restraints, only to have his seat at your ass. The spank caused you to let out a long, lustful moan and it only made his Cheshire grin bigger.

“Oh? My sweet little bitch likes to be spanked too? Fucking look at you.” He finished restraining you, leaving your arms and legs unable to move.

“This is what you get for using me to get off without permission, missy. You left me no choice.” You whined and moves your pelvis up and down, trying to show him where you wanted him. He smirked and walked away again. You groaned in frustration again and he answered back,

“I’m gonna wash my hands, pretty. Im sure you don’t want any infections.” You simmered down and waited for his return, one that was swift. He smiled and looked at you only for a frown to overcome his face. You inquired him what was wrong and he said, “you’re wearing too many clothes.” Immediately after, he ripped his shirt apart and the boxers, both ruined garments falling limply besides you. He licked his lips looking at your body and surveyed your pussy, finding it dripping. He chucked and spanked your clit, something that made you jolt and moan.

“You’re dripping, baby. I’ve barely even done anything, too… hmm, well you’ve taken your consequences quite well, so why doesn’t little missy get a reward, eh?” You nodded enthusiastically and he smiled, ruffling your hair. Immediately he plugged up your begging hole with two thick fingers, causing you to howl in pain. Its been a while since you had anything in there. Soon enough, though, the whimpers of pain turned into moans of pleasure as he fingered you at a fast and hard pace while rubbing your clit. He was repeatedly hitting your g spot and you felt like you had to pee. Afraid to pee on him, you urged him to stop.

“H…hey J—Jeongg…ungh… Jeongguk…. I think I’m gonna… gonna… pee!” By the end of your sentence you were screaming as you watched clear juices spill out of you. That was new. “What we’re you saying?” He inquired with a smirk. As you panted, he lowered himself and began licking at your pussy. He ate you out with vigor you never knew in your life from past partners until he made you cum with just his tongue, without needing the aid of anything else. As you came down from your orgasm, he came up and kissed you as your juices ran down his chin. He looked you in the eyes and asked almost shyly, a stark change in demeanor, “you think I can fuck you?” You breathlessly chuckled and answered, “fuck yeah.”

He took off his overalls as soon as you said that, grinning madly. The lowering of the overalls showed his beautifully sculpted abs and pecs clearly and the lower he went the more you realized he wasn’t wearing any underwear. His dick sprung to life leaking precum from its pink tip. He took his hand and jerked himself a little before he lined up at your entrance and looked at you questioningly. You nodded and he went in slowly. Your juices made the ability for friction disappear and soon he started pounding into your weeping pussy. He reached down and choked you lightly as he began stimulating your clit again and you screamed in overstimulation. He didn’t give up and eventually you began feeling pleasure and his cock rammed into you relentlessly. He panted as he fucked into your cunt and your pussy squeezed his dick. You moaned in pleasure, despite your restricted air flow and he groaned from the feel of his dick fucking your pussy. Soon enough, you came to your end squeezing his dick like a python and he pulled it out. He jerked off and came over your stomach and tits covering them entirely.

“Fuck, if I had a phone I would’ve definitely taken a picture of this. You look beautiful like this, miss.” He panted and you chuckled breathlessly. You both stared at each other attempting to catch your breaths in silence. He was the first who broke it.

     Okay, picture this: the chirping of birds is a calming indicator that another wonderful and amazing chapter in the billions of books of life everyone owns has started. Your personality consisted of just sickening optimism and morning person qualities. Sunshine optimism and hopeful prayers. Your motto consisted of “Why be a grouch when you can, like, not do that!”, which confused people who asked or didn’t ask alike, but the point is that you’re like, a glitter gel pen personified. Your optimism was magnified by like 100x recently as you’d gotten a job at your local elementary school, the one you’d went to when you were, well, 5-11. Years ago, but hey! That’s not the point, because at least you have a job.

     Your alarm went off at 7 and you were up at exactly 7:01. Today was your first day and being late wasn’t exactly on your calendar of optimism. You put a smile on your face, as optimists do, and padded towards the bathroom, not forgetting to say hello and good morning to the various plants scattered throughout your room, as happy people do. By 8:20 you had finished in the bathroom and moved on to your outfit, a pencil skirt and long-sleeved white dress shirt seemed appropriate and stereotypical for you to wear on your first day teaching a bunch of little droplets of morning dew and sunshine. The fact that they are the future of humankind excites you, you got to mold their wonderful and complex little minds into the right path and into success. You laced the red bow that went around the collar of the shirt.

     Queue the record scratch. What a fucking joke. Okay. Let’s get to the real you, shall we? You were more like, a glitter gel pen that barely had any ink, but somehow is still your favorite pen so you rub it between your palms as long as you can, so the drying ink warms up again and writes. But you give up and resort to a black pen. Elaborate, but one gets it when they’ve met you long enough and you word out that exact comparison. Work you and outside you were two completely different beings, the glitter gel pen ideally writes great at work, but at home or outside you just switch to the black-inked, more practical pen. Can pens feel emotion? At this point you were too scared and apathetic to find out anyway. The plant part is true, obviously, because you’re not a monster. They didn’t ask to be birthed into this home, so you had to make their stay as wonderful as you could. You tell your plants what others will never know and what they should but won’t.

    Your alarm might go off at 6:30 because you just know you need at least thirty minutes to decide whether going anywhere was worth it. For the record, it is, since you’re getting paid and all. So, by 8:30, you’re ready to drive for 15 minutes to the school you work at now, for some reason. You loved kids to an extent sure, but teaching them? Having to be at the disposal of their grubby and somehow sickeningly sticky little hands and questionable stains? Who gave you the idea you could make it? Oh, right: Namjoon Kim, your childhood best friend and the vice principal of the same school you were starting at. You thank your lucky stars that you were friends and got along with Namjoon through your brother even with the ten-year age gap, as he was able to get you a job easily teaching a kindergarten class with some poor soul when you were right out of college. Lord Namjoon was so merciful in everything. He taught you everything you knew about handling those little gremlins and helped you through most of your college assignments. Ugh, smart king.

    It’s not like you didn’t want to be a teacher. It’s just you would’ve preferred not to, but Namjoon was so convincing (Seriously, who was his speech and debate teacher? They truly need a raise) that you decided on being a teacher. You never really knew what to do in your life, never reaqlly having the outstanding passion for a certain subject or hobby others did. An overall average, and you were happy with that. You took Namjoon’s initiative and landed somewhere you were at least not considered a disappointment.

    You locked the apartment door after giving yourself a once over in the mirror next to your door to make sure you don’t completely look like you ate shit last night and got a wicked hangover on your first day. A simple light sweater and the only pair of unripped, light-washed jeans you had could do the trick of making them believe you were truly an optimistic, good person. As much as kids are concerned, anyway. You were good so far, the Advils you’d taken once you could tear yourself away from the motherly embrace of your bed doing their intended job. The instructions you received were to get there after drop-off since you had to be introduced to the kids, which ended at 8:00, so you were in absolutely no haste to get there. The elevator dinged and you automatically got off, still having your eyes locked onto your screen, some twitter fight going on that you were absolutely elated to be the spectator of, despite vehemently always denying you hated them. A few words and you could get everyone at each other’s throats—it was hilarious. Of course, you weren’t saying anything bad, you aren’t a shit person. You just insult and start a discussion on their favorite character and everyone takes sides, doing the fighting on their own. You were so focused that you didn’t notice the body making its way to the direction you were coming from on the same path as you, who was equally into his phone for a whole different reason than you were. His daughter really was one of the biggest lights of his life. And even as they got nearer and nearer they didn’t notice each other. Only a catastrophe would happen if this continued. Oh…! And a catastrophe did happen, who would’ve thought?

    The clash of the two bodies was unceremoniously saddening to see, one would’ve whole-heartedly preferred to see it happen in the romantic way, but alas! That was not the luck that met the teacher and the male in expensive designer brands gifted to him by hopeful patrons. Instead, the fated ones met at an unfortunate sequence of an iced americano volcano, as it somehow managed to slash towards the roof. C’mon, how creative is this? The mishap had somehow gone in slow motion for you, as the stain-y brown liquid had splashed all over the front of your sweater and shoes. That finally caused you to look up from your phone, discourse now completely forgotten.

    “What the fuck, asshole! Look where you’re going! Oh fuck, dude–holy shit my sweater.”

    Your eyes squinted and shot daggers at his form, which annoyingly got three droplets of coffee on his own shirt. You whined in discontent.

    “Well, it’s not entirely my fault! You weren’t looking where you were goi—aww man! My shirt…” he trailed off with a frown mixed with a pout, the English laced with some remnants of an accent you were currently too occupied to pin-point. His voice and body itself would’ve made your body light up with desire in any other scenario, but not this one. No amount of hot will quell the absolute rage you felt for this very could-probably-be-a-model-if-he-wasn’t-already man right now. The front desk lady looked up, smiled at the scene, and looked back down at her gossip magazine. She flipped a page, waiting for you to leave while obviously holding in some laughter that wanted to escape. Poor unfortunate souls. Yeah, she kinda looked like Ursula.

    You scoffed in disbelief at not only his audacity, but hers as you got a text. You were seething as the man inspected his shirt and the miniscule-looking stains. As if he should be the one distraught: the whole front of your sweater was completely soaked with the dripping brown liquid. Nevertheless, you looked at your phone and saw it was Namjoon asking where you were and that you had 10 minutes before you were considered late and penalized, because who the fuck is late on their first day? Probably you. He also decided to include that your co-teacher was getting more and more agitated every moment that passed, grumbling about how it was never a good idea. You took a few seconds to calm your rising sea of emotions, and, after glaring at him for a few seconds as he remained completely oblivious to you, you smiled politely. The lord was testing you, but what’s new about that? You were known to have a short temper and were you pissed.

    “Quite frankly, I hope you have the money to pay for my ruined sweater? Coffee stain are an absolute nightmare to get out of clothes, don’t you know? As a coffee drinker, I quite understand. I see you didn’t mean to bump into me, and I get it. Unfortunately, I need reparations, man.” You finished with twitching smile, attempting to be as understanding as you could.

    The man stared you down with a dumbfounded expression, clearly turning into a “are you dumb?” expression with time as he grasped you were serious.

    “Just throw it in the washing machine as fast as you can like I am, babe. Relax, it’s no biggie.” He replied, then turned on his heel. He walked into the open elevator and left before you could snap out of your own dumbfounded expression.

    Your brain finally caught up with the situation and you calmed yourself from only seeing red. How dare that insolent man?! You let out some curses directed at him and ill hopes on his well-being with some air-punching gestures before you calmed down. You cheked the time and you had just 5 minutes left, which caused a cold jolt of anxiety to run up your entire body. You ran up the stairs back to your apartment continuing your directed muttered curses and the next thing you knew you had a different dress shirt on. You didn’t have time to save your sweater, so goodbye to it it was. Your rush time had gone by like a blur, all you could feel as you entered your apartment and left for your car was pure panic and distress. You shot Namjoon a quick text to inform him of your status, making sure to trash talk the rude man as much as you could, and drove as fast as you could to the school, barely making it by the time margin. It’s almost scary how a 15-minute commune turned into 4 minutes. Don’t try this at home.

    To describe your first day of teaching as a smooth sail would be an absolute and utter lie. The description was more like “several calms before several storms one after the other” and by pick-up at 2:00 p.m., you were absolutely worn out. The two troublemakers you could pin-point straight away from the bunch were from this trio consisting of two girls and a boy.

    The boy, named Julian, went along with everything and only nodded or shook his head as well as followed silently and uttered maybe one or two words the whole day. One girl which agreed with everything thrown at her and had absolutely no means to formulate her own opinions, named Aria and the twin sister of Julian, had curly brown-almost-black hair and childish innocence in her eyes which she turned against you when she asked double-edged questions.

    The one with the more confident and assertive nature, named Eunbyul, had a jet-black bob as well as a fiery determination to absolutely ruin your life in her eyes and she had decided to do everything in her power to absolutely annoy you.

Run with a pencil in her hand? Check.

    Throwing a staged tantrum if you tried to even take her first-day introductory assignment from her momentarily? Check.

    Not letting you sharpen her pencil even though she needed to and she sure as hell wasn’t allowed to on her own? Probably, a quadruple check. You stopped counting at the third.

    In conclusion, she made sure you knew she disliked you. She in no way allowed you to help her in anything, turning her rotten glare into a tooth-rotting smile whenever your co-teacher was around. Speaking of, he absolutely did not make anything better. His constant breathing down your back and criticism of even the smallest things you did or didn’t do made you want to tear every single hair follicle of yours out one by one.

    In conclusion for the second time, today was a shitty day and you hoped to finish without any more inconveniences, neither minor nor, god forbid, major. You sure did hope so! But, uhhhh, you’re not really the dieties’ favorite, to say the least.

    Car-related movement from outside caught your attention as you graded the kids’ first day assignments- scribbles really, but you commend them for trying their best– and you looked up at the same time as the The Royalty Trio, or TRT, as you dubbed the three trouble-makers—after further observing towards their interactions with the other kids in the playground. Them and two other kids were left to be picked up as the parents confirmed they were running late and you didn’t mind staying longer than needed with your co-teacher (who seemed to be fine with you the closer it got to pick-up, which was a relief really because one more “You’re saying it wrong” and you just might’ve strangled him in front of the children, professionality be damned), but TRT made your extra time as unenjoyable as it was enjoyable. Sometimes they were nice in a way and then would ruin it by taking a jab at something.

    As two engines sounded in the parking lot from two different colored SUV’s that looked like they probably belong to a DILF—what? Couldn’t you dream? —, the twins seemed to know what was going on. Catching on, you asked, “Hey, is that your parent?” and only received a tight nod from the boy and a reluctant sigh. They knew you were going to tell on them and you sure hoped it worked to stop them.

    Alas! Maybe a DILF has appeared as you look through the front window of the white SUV, but the black SUV’s owner was not a DILF. It was a different man. Not just any man. THE man. Your blood boiled as soon as you caught a glimpse of his Gucci and Channel bullshit topped up with a bow of leather jacket and Doc Martens. He dared look this good after he unintentionally dumped his coffee on you?! Your slight, undeniable drop of attraction dried up when you realized the asshole didn’t even apologize this morning, and something you absolutely hated was wrong doers with no remorse. The absolute stinking nerve! Next to him, the—actual, because fuck that guy—DILF emerged from the other car of the same model and color, just as stupidly gorgeous as the asshat, his curly dark hair bouncing as he walked with the confidence of a runway model after shutting the door of the Cadillac. He was also noticeably taller than the BCAG, Blonde Coffee Asshole Guy for short, and was way better, in your opinion. Yes, you were creative in naming. No, you weren’t holding a grudge over him. What ever gave you that idea? Shut up.

    The Royalty Trio ran in the direction of the Greek God In Human Form and the other guy. The twins jumped into the open arms of the aforementioned Greek God and Eunbyul ran into the arms of the fucking guy. Life sure is funny. You had to stop yourself from letting out an incredulous ‘of course’ and fit of laughter out loud, lest you be labeled crazy. He was crouching and had his arms extended in order to receive the full blow of the absolute bear hug that was going to ensue and all you could think was ‘that’s cute but fuck that guy”. Your co-teacher, Yoongi, smiled widely and warmly at the two men and stepped forward once he noticed their presence, getting up from his desk where he told you he was double checking the lesson plans. You swore you caught him scrolling through Twitter and Instagram at least thrice, but the blush he let out each time propelled you to forgive him because, shit, who wouldn’t?

    “Well if it isn’t Tweedledum and Tweedledee. Finally decided to stop by and pick up your kids?” he paused and looked at the two cars, “Oh? I see you got an actual car Jimbo. Fu…Freaking sick dude now you won’t die walking home after you shift.”

    The men looked up from their own little ones and smiled at Yoongi, seemingly at the same time. You made eye-contact with the BCAG and his eyes noticeably widened in recognition. That’s right, fate absolutely despises you. It just spit on you and called you a delusional dumbass. “There’s no way this day could end well, bitch. Suck it up.” It said. And suck it up you did.

…Ish.

    You narrowed your eyes into slits at “Jimbo”–dumb name for a dumb asshole– and stood from your seat at the teacher’s desk to... “talk”. You walked as though a lion stalking a prey, but nonetheless. Yoongi took notice of your approaching presence and smiled, a soft cringe in his features as he took in your clearly pissed disposition.

    “Ah, this is ______, the newbie who teaches with me now. _______, this is Mr. Kim,” he pointed at the DILF, “and this is Mr. Park.” So that’s the evil-doer’s name. Jimbo would’ve fit him more because at least it would’ve been dumb. Like him. Yeah, you’re never letting go of that grudge.

    Mr. Kim smiled kindly and shook your hand, melting you into a puddle. “Please, call me Taehyung and call him Jimin. You’d make us feel old!” He laughed. If you hadn’t melted into a puddle before, you sure did now. His baritone voice traveled from your linked hands up your body his equally attractive laugh gracing your ears like the finest orchestra.

    “Pleased to meet you!” Jimin’s eyes turned into crescents as he extended his arm and smiled at you. You narrowed your eyes, but smiled back, the murder in your eyes still prevalent.

    “We keep meeting! Seems like the universe doesn’t want to take back its misfortune.” He visibly faltered at your statement; the other two guys left in shock. How did you guys know each other?

    “Maybe if you had looked where you were going, then there wouldn’t have been any misfortune,” he stated frowning, somehow not grasping how it was equal parts his fault. You let out an exasperated sigh. You said it several times and you’ll say it again: the fucking audacity of this dude.

    “Well, jacka…” you trained off, remembering there were kids in the room. You composed yourself and continued. “Dude, maybe if you were looking where you were going that incident wouldn’t have happened, either! It’s equal parts our fault Also! You were left unscathed! The whole front of my sweater was completely messed up! Sasha’s beyond repair!”

    “Well, I got three stains on my silk shir—wait you named your sweater Sasha.” He interrupted himself as his brain caught up with your statement and sent you a deadpan look. You squinted your eyes and scoffed.

    “Yeah? So? You got something to say about Sasha, bro?” You said childishly. He rolled his eyes.

    The other two men seemed stunned at your back and forth that lasted maybe 7 minutes tops. You finally breathed to calm yourself down after his last blame on you and looked at everyone in the room. The kids were confused, the grown-ups mirroring the same sentiment and expression, unknowing whether to step in or not. If the question they held from before wasn’t answered before, it sure was now.

    “I’m sorry for getting so worked up. That was really unprofessional of me,” you stated, acting the bigger person. For once. “Moving on from that, if we may, Mr. Park,” He rolled his eyes and his dumb handsome face with a light scowl at the fact that you were acting like you were the bigger person. Which you were, obviously. “I would really like to speak to both of you, actually, about your kids’ behavior in the classroom.”

    You paused, both men’s expression sobering. They gave their kids a side eye and looked at you with questioning gazes. So much attention directed at you waiting for you to speak caused your face to grow hot. God, you hated attention. Yoongi stuttered mid nod while addressing them as well, still thinking about what they’ve done to grant an impromptu conference. Recognition sparked across his face and his expression turned strict. You took their silence as encouragement to continue.

    “They are not amicable to others on the playground, to say the least. It’s only the first day, but we’ve already watched them shove and scream at several of their classmates.” You spared a glance at the bashful three and continue. “They’ve also been awfully uncooperative and impolite towards… staff.”

    You didn’t want to sound like you were complaining and whining or something, but you still felt like a 3-year-old complaining to an adult that another kid was being mean to them. You pride yourself in being independent and having no regrets towards anything you did. You had over a dozen sessions where ink was added to your body and not one did you regret or fret over because they made you who you are. Not once did you ask your parents for help after moving out, you helped them sometimes, actually. You prided yourself in that. But these kids made your day hell, they made you feel incompetent. One of the things you also prided yourself in was your skills with young children and how easily you could make them like you and confide in you because you just gave off that vibe, as you’ve been told. And to have them disprove your pride? That shit hurts.

    The two men widened their eyes, immediately kneeling to eye level with their kids once again.

    “Is that true you guys?” asked Jimin.

    “No-” “Yeah, we’re sorry”, Eunbyul started to say, only to be cut off by Julian. Something you saw quite a lot is that he hated to be reprimanded and caved into even the smallest amounts of pressure. He was a great kid, just hung around bad influences. But leading the girls into the right path wasn’t completely out of the question. They’re young and that means they’re easily impressionable, so if you can help them be better, now would be the best time. Eunbyul scowled at Julian but teared up at the furrowed brows her dad was giving her. She was ready toile and render her teacher a liar, which made things even worse for her. You couldn’t believe he was capable of being a good father.

Actually…

    That’s a lie, you can admit that to yourself. Just because he managed to be a somewhat shitty person doesn’t mean that he’s completely shitty in all aspects. One can be the biggest villain, but still a great parent. You chastised yourself for thinking so negatively of him. He simply dropped coffee on you, you came to terms with. It’s not like it was on purpose.

    “I can’t believe you, Eunbyul. What about the talk I gave you? Haven’t I always told you to be kind to others, strangers and people you see every day alike? Where did that all go? And lying too? To my face? Don’t even think that I didn’t notice you saying no!”

    If he started barking in the middle of his sentence, you wouldn’t have noticed. A pin-drop could be heard in the room. Taking about the room, you looked around. The other two kids seem to have been picked up if Yoongi’s returning form wasn’t of any clue. You took time to study their faces. Taehyung’s eyebrows furrowed too, his face turned into a frown. The kids looked down, the only indicator that they were crying would be a whimper if it escaped them. Jimin mirrored Taehyung’s face, but with deeper feeling. He was more passionate about the subject at hand than Taehyung, that much you could tell.

    “I’m really disappointed in you guys, especially you Eunbyul. You’re the oldest, you should set an example to those younger than you.”

    You flinched at the word. Disappointed. It scared you to hear that word, too much trauma behind it than you’d like to unpack. The same words your parents would use throughout elementary, high school, and university when they knew you were studying teaching and not medicine or law. Something that actually gave you money and helped you succeed in life. It was a heavy word, especially for a mere child, so you jumped in once he finished. You weren’t sure whether it was in your place, but you just couldn’t let him. It was perfectly fine to say that word, sure, but the negative feelings behind it forced you to open your mouth.

    “That’s a little harsh, don’t you think? Their behavior can be fixed, it’s nothing to really stress over. Tomorrow morning we can have them apologize to all they were mean to and I’m sure it’ll be fine,” you tried to recover. The word disappointed definitely struck something in all of them, their threatening tears now slowly streaming down their small faces. Their faces contorted to stop the obvious whaling they wanted to let out. Eunbyul seemed to be shaking from how hard she tried to stop her crying. The mention of apologizing in front of their parents to other kids with their parents made them whimper collectively.

    Jimin seemed to understand your point and sighed. He seemed tired, was tired. All of what he’d taught his daughter and the rest of his kids all their lives left to nothing? Hearing that his kid bullies others and isn’t a model student definitely hurt him. He can understand that now. This was the first time he’d had to reprimand any of his kids this way. Haneul was an angel child, the best in everything including behavior and always getting compliments left and right, his friend circle enormous as it translated throughout all his life so far. But this was to be expected. Haneul had two parents growing up giving him attention and nurturing him, he got that. Eunbyul, however, had only him and her older brother. She’d even told him once that she could barely remember her own mom, and sometimes overhearing her crying for her mom at night. He couldn’t bear one more “mommy…?” when he woke her up from her nightmares. It all hurt. It also hurt to see his princess crying.

    His eyes were noticeably red, definitely with the intention of bursting into tears, but he breathed and let the tears go away. He gently began stroking his daughter’s hair, urging her to calm down.

    “Don’t ever do it again, okay? No matter who it is, you have to be nice, little star.”

    You could make out a nod before he separated himself and smiled at her. Your eyes trailed to Taehyung where he had his hands on both the twin’s shoulder, quietly scolding but reassuring them.

    Jimin turned to you abashedly and smiled after Eunbyul told him everything that she’d done that day. He’d apologized on her behalf with a blush that made him look as though the very cherry blossoms in the playground had landed on his cheeks. He also apologized for his childish behavior. Yeah, maybe coffee guy wasn’t so bad after all.

    “I’m sorry they were trouble to you. I’m also sorry about your sweater. I assume you live in the same building as me, right? Let me take you to the mall as an apology, Miss _______.” He smiled charmingly, truly apologetic. Maybe this Park dude isn’t so bad.

“You owe me a coffee, though.”

… not.

    The window curtains glittered under the moonlight’s loving, motherly kiss, this gentle caress closely similar to the unnaturally blond man’s embrace of a little girl–his precious little girl– in his arms. She was quite positively almost a copy of himself, down to his natural jet-black hair and plump, pink lips. The expensive curtains—most notably one of the most expensive things in the vicinity as what his little one wants his little one gets— danced with the wind let in by the open window softly, bringing the loud car horns and yelling of bustling city life with it. They’d been rendered to a simple ambient hum, considering how high up in the building they lived, however. The glitter scattered all throughout its length caused it to look like various constellations spread gracefully, causing his little one to refuse any other option that wasn’t it, unfortunately for his bank account. The neon lights of signs outside their New York City apartment, which would otherwise be annoying, entered only carefully tonight, as if to not disturb the gentle moment between the father and daughter.

“And so, the little princess was elated! The dragon had taken her to his cave filled with shiny little things all around, away from the princess life she hated.”

The raven-haired girl’s little eyes had shined in anticipation; the blonde man often mused it seemed like the night sky was trapped in her gaze since her birth, hence her name. She practically shook from excitement, her little brain unable wrap itself around how the princess pulled it all off so effortlessly! She didn’t know what to do with herself, so she clung to her dad’s silk night shirt as tight as her little fists would let her (which kind of hurt but he wasn’t going to stop her, he loved her too much to repress her). She liked to think of herself as close to that of a big, scary typhoon. He begged to differ with the more accurate description of the whirlpool one makes when circling their fingers in water repeatedly.

“The dragon taught her all she came to know! He taught her to read and write. Taught her to do basic things and they lived happily for just a few months. Then, the guards in the palace found her and came to get her! Do you know what they assumed, my beautiful little star?” Jimin had started looking at her fondly, the term of endearment coming out in their native tongue of Korean, accent prominently and endearingly laced in his English, soothing into every word he spoke. The nickname made her chest fill with warmth and her cheeks puff in reluctant happiness. No matter how many times her dear daddy would say it, it was her very own little term of endearment. Just for her and no one else. She loved it.

“That he was a big scary mean dragon! Right, daddy?!”

Jimin beamed at her intelligence. Then again, he does read her this story whenever she asks—and that’s nearly every weekend. He tickled her and held her tightly in his arms, her soft giggles reaching his ears just as the melodies he would dance to as a young boy would. Although he could still fit her in his arms, she was getting big. Give it two more years and he couldn’t do this anymore with her, hold her without difficulty and discomfort. The thought of such a cruel future made his heart sink a little. He had to stop himself often from thinking about how she would act when she became a teenager, it would be too much for his fragile heart to handle.

Jimin had always chastised her, as he was the only parent she had left. He took care of her and taught her valuable life lessons, sang her to sleep, and learned to make pretty hairstyles “just like a princess”, she’d say. He corrected her when needed as well as took on the role of both mother and father to her younger brother, Hayun (she preferred to call him Sunny after Jimin told her the meaning in English, which always made his heart melt), which was only a month old when their mother decided to pack her bags. Her older brother, although still a junior in high school, helped as much as he could to alleviate the toll that taking on both roles took on Jimin.

He was a great father, as one wouldn’t really expect. He was the right mixture of incredibly compassionate, well-humored, and empathetic with a dash of sternness to go along with it. He wasn’t a tyrant ruler, he listened to all three–well two, Hayun hasn’t even been able to string together a coherent longer-than-3-words sentence, only simple sentences, as a toddler does– and implemented all change that was agreed on by the majority. He always tried to pay equal attention to all of them, although most of it went to her younger brother. She didn’t mind though, she enjoyed playing with her older brother, Haneul. Jimin always packed him lunch, even as he whined that he didn’t have to do that, but he always enjoyed when he did it. She knew, noticing he always left to school with a small smile on his lips after.

Jimin has to assume complete responsibility once their… “mother” … turned up one day and decided she wanted nothing to do with her kids anymore. After taking her routine every night visit to the bar, she found someone older. Wealthier. “Much more fun” and “like you used to be before they showed up” she also gracefully added. Not like it was his fault he’d grown up once his first child was born, unlike her. Always looking for convenient fun, never tied down to anything. Proposing to her would just be in vain since it’s not like she would’ve accepted marriage anyway. Even during high school, when she first had come to him announcing her pregnancy, he knew how little care she held for him. She always thought of him as harmless fun, a man on the side and he couldn’t say the same of himself.  The first child was purely an accident, the other two was him desperately trying to convince himself it could all work out and she could change. After their third, he knew how wrong he was. He held feelings for her at one point, although, with time, it all disappeared. He could only hold feelings of loathing towards her at that point. She thought of the kids as nuances. She got sick of it. Sick of him. Sick of having just one person to kiss. She couldn’t be tied down, but just because he knew that, it didn’t mean it hurt any less. She’d left once Hayun was born, but Eunbyul didn’t know why. She always thought she didn’t love them anymore after seeing her mom with a man that looked uglier than her daddy for sure, but she seemed happy. Her mom said something to her before she’d left, looked at her weird, and screamed at her dad some more, but she couldn’t remember what it was. Often, she’d ponder when her mommy was coming back. Well, not like she could, anyway. They did move across the globe after, from Busan to New York, with no way to contact them. She didn’t mind not having a mommy for now, though, it’s not like she was ever home before anyway. It was always comfortable with daddy.

“Daddy! Please continue the story! Why’d you stop?! Pleeeeeeease…!” She pouted and looked up at him with those puppy eyes children knew to use when they wanted something to make their parents cave in fast in response to his hesitance to continue the story, her fake tiara skewing just a little to the side. One day, he’ll buy her a new one. One with diamonds and various other gems. His features seemed to light up and playfully mirror her own, his nose scrunching up as well. She, of course, as a sensitive, princess-y 4-almost-5-year-old, did not know how to differentiate someone being mean between someone playing, so she smacked him on the shoulder as hard as she could in her blind anger. Jimin yelped at the contact and sobered up, expression turning stern. Had she messed up? Did she do something wrong? Daddy’s face did the same face he always did when he was mad at her for doing something wrong. Eyes sharp. Lips in a straight line. Eyebrows drawn together.

“Eunbyul, you can’t hit anyone ever, you hear me? Especially me...” His voice was stern, but less confident as he trailed off. One look in her eyes and one could easily tell she was on the verge of tears. Why had the atmosphere changed so much? Why did the breeze still? Why was it so hot all of a sudden, but just on her face? Her tears were almost spilling out of her doe eyes, so his expression softened and panic flashed through his face. He had too soft a spot for her.

“...Not without expecting payback!” He announced out as a save and initiated a tickle attack by removing his arms supporting her back and wiggling them on her sides, causing a sea of reluctant giggles and laughter to erupt from her lips, tears of sadness now turned into ones of happiness. A wave of relief passed through her consciousness. He wasn’t mad at her anymore!

After he stopped tickling and her giggles piped down, he took her in his arms again and minimally rocked her back and forth again, attempting to continue the story. She gazed into his eyes. There, were two crescent moons filled with stars picked carefully right from the universe. They held warm nights of him wrapped in a blanket and always holding her in his arms while rocking her back and forth, looking back at her like she was his most valuable treasure. Nights of drinking lukewarm chocolate and sharing it with her while telling her countless stories he remembered or made up, her brother’s occasional snorting making her giggle. Those crescent pools of love staring right back at her with so much fondness, she couldn’t not trust him. He loved what he created with every inch of his being, even if she resembled her mother somewhat. She never felt so safe in any other person’s hold, even in Haneul’s. She felt safe and happy, sure, but not to the extent of her dad’s.

Pouting and closing his eyes as well as lifting his head up high in mocked snub, he opened one of his closed eyes.

“Well, if you’re done being rude, I’d like to finish this story for this week.”

A beat of silence went by as she looked at him with slight shame and tucked her head against his armpit. He sighed, breathily chuckled and shook his head slightly.

“You were right, princess. They did think he was a big, mean, and scary dragon that took the pretty little princess as his own treasure! The princess came back from getting berries just before the guards decided to kill the dragon!”

A gasp. A smile.

“She explained what happened and the guards decided to keep to themselves that they had seen the princess. The dragon and the princess lived what, my little star?”

“Happily ever after, right, daddy?!” She looked at her dad excitedly, completely engrossed in the story despite it being probably the hundredth time he told it to her since her birth.

A pause.

“That’s right, my love. The end…”

Although little Eunbyul understood simple Korean, she could barely speak it. Jimin planned on teaching her a little more down the line. Now, she barely understood some of the words, any longer than two syllables being too dang hard for her little brain to grasp at this late hour, right before her bedtime, but she didn’t care at this time. Not when his soothing voice graced her ears with the background noise only that of the far away beep of cars, the rhythmic rumbling in his chest every time he’s uttered a word soothing her to sleep. As she laid there in his arms, fast asleep, little snores leaving her nose, all that was in his mind was how he could never bear losing her.

He felt absolutely heartbroken and stressed, raising three kids on his own was unbearably hard. He loved them so much he had to look for a job in this new country. A job that paid well but let him work while the kids were asleep so he could care for them while they were awake.

He also made friends with his co-workers and shift manager, so it wasn’t too bad re-adjusting. They barely hired new employees since they had a very high criteria, so he barely had to deal with new hires that made his job harder. His kids are growing up, though. He knew that.  He feared they would leave like their mother did almost two years ago, so he’d decided to enjoy them and raise them as well as he could while it lasted. He was scared they’d decide they were sick of him just like she did. Irrational since his kids shared a strong bond with him and each other, but valid.

Jimin got up, arms still wrapped around her, she was growing and he could no longer able to hold her like how he used to. He moved the covers to make place for her and gently laid her down, taking her plastic tiara off her head. Covering her and laying a gentle kiss on her forehead, tears dangerously threatened to spill. The moonlight hit his face, making his eyes’ shine intensify into thousand galaxies in his beautiful, soft chocolate eyes as he got up to turn off her mermaid lamp.

“Sleep tight my little universe,” he chokingly whispered as tears freely fell from his eyes.

An abrupt sound made way to his ears and he turned around, finding his sixteen-year-old son holding Sunghoon. Jimin vigorously wiped his tears and gave Haneul a weak and quivering smile. The boy moved to put down the toddler he was holding in his crib and turned on the mobile, then mouthed to his father if he was okay, used to him being bubbly and strong for them, though it certainly wasn’t the first time he’d seen him cry. He took the role of confidant, listening to his father whenever he let himself be anything less than closed. He always looked so small, like a little boy. It always scared him. This wasn’t his big and amazing role model of a dad, was it? The one he bragged about to all his friends and anyone who would listen? Would he become like that, too? Out of the three kids, he was the one who remembered his mother the clearest, having been fourteen. He despised her, to put it nicely. He was the one that got to see to the extent that that woman caused their father to feel anguish, he got to know what not being loved by his mother was like.

Nodding, he ushered his oldest son out the room, more unrestrained tears rolled down his tear-stained cheeks. No matter how vigorously he wiped at them, they’d come back anyway, so maybe he should give up on wiping his tears just as he’d given up on trying to make his relationship work. It didn’t help that Haneul was the spitting image of his mother, either. Haneul wanted to press on, to question him and help him, but he decided to leave it. Glancing at both of his younger siblings sleeping, he decided maybe some things were better left unsaid. He slowly made his way to the door and once he reached it, pat his dad in the back and continued to his room. As Jimin tried to control his upcoming violent sobs, he shut the door behind him.

He couldn’t do this alone anymore. It was too much. He needed someone there.

   The cool autumn wind blew against Jimin’s cheek as he shook his hair to clear his fringe from his eyes. He brought his dainty hands into his jacket pockets as he puffed out air. While his breath may not have been visible, it sure as hell felt like it could be.

It was cold as fuck, to put it simply. Having a car would be absolutely beautiful right now, but circumstances really don’t line up with his wishes on the regular. He always kept forgetting to look into which car he would like best and to go purchase it, but the subways facilitated his route home and to work somewhat. His life would improve tenfold once he remembers to buy a car. He was very forgetful since there’s only so much he can keep up with, his brain take up with his three kids and problems. He could do that in the three days he had left, he guesses. Maybe tomorrow if he sets a reminder, even, would he be able to get a car. Before he left, he had saved up money for a living space able to hold all 4 of them and a mode of transportation. He could get rid of his subway card and buy a car or something, anything but dealing with the surplus of rats and drunkards at the time he used it. His credit wasn’t bad either, which could probably lower his purchase a little. His oldest used the same transportation he did, but he just wanted to drive his kids to school in the mornings and drop them off. Even more so, Eunbyul was starting school in just a few days, so he couldn’t afford to just walk her to school as it was half an hour away from their apartment building or even use public transport. It just didn’t feel right to him. All those cute hairstyles he planned on doing on her would be ruined by the time they got there.

Jimin kept pacing along the sidewalk towards the apartment complex where his kids are expected to be sleeping. Expected. It was 1:05 A.M., after all. A father can only hope his children listened well to him. He could probably assume Haneul was studying or something and the other two were knocked out, children being unable to be awake for very long.

He sighed as he scratched his itching nose and gazed around the well-near-empty streets, save the occasional drunk or workers of the same hours as himself.

Work was everything but slow, as always. Obviously, as an exotic dancer, he should’ve expected that. He really thought he’d made it clear to the manager that he had to be home early to put his kids to bed and give Eunbyul her first out of five pep talks before she starts kindergarten for the first time ever in a week, but maybe he didn’t remember. He’ll put his money on that, Seokjin was always preoccupied with everything in the club and the additional two other locations. Being a considerate manager and good owner is hard work, after all. His forgetfulness caused Jimin to be overbooked and end his shift two hours later than he’d requested. At least he was getting paid very well for that, anyway, so he had next to no complaints.

Checking his phone, he saw 5 collective texts from his friends, Yoongi and Taehyung. These were two childhood best friends of his, every summer when he would visit his grandma in Seoul he would hang out with them. They were both neighbors from Daegu and would go to Seoul for the summer for the same reason Jimin did which caused his grandmother to meet them. A chance encounter leading to a life-long friendship. Taehyung, however, moved away to become an art major at NYU and Yoongi had followed behind, falling victim to Taehyung’s prettily warpped descriptions of the city. He was a kindergarten teacher and assumed the same role in the states and Taehyung became a critically acclaimed, wildly successful painter. Taehyung actually had children of his own in his time in New York and his twins were the same age as Eunbyul. He, however, was married to their mother, and happily too. For that, he always felt jealousy, despite not wanting to.

Tapping the notification to see all the texts displayed, he saw Yoongi whining about the fact that the first day of school is way too close for comfort and Taehyung’s smiley face reply to Jimin’s own “i’m going home now, if i don’t text you that i’m home within 20 minutes, use find my friends to go after me”. Nothing out of the ordinary. He lived in a crime-filled part of town. He was saving up to be able to buy either a nice enough house close to the school or an apartment of the same caliber in cash. Mortgages seemed messy to him, in all and he was frankly scared to do it.

Now, Yoongi’s whining is normal, but now it has increased tenfold as the news of him getting an assistant teacher was broken to him. Yoongi felt as though the school was insulting his ability to teach by putting another adult in the classroom (they’d assured that he needed an extra hand in the classroom as there were more kids than before in his class–he called bullshit though), but nonetheless, all Jimin could hope for is that he doesn’t “accidentally” show up to class with vodka in a water bottle again. Not after what happened last time.

Locking his phone and walking faster, his longing for the warmth of what he liked to call his “luxury” apartment shining through and suddenly beginning to be extremely prominent which resulted in a whine of I-have-to-walk-like-five-more-steps-to-get-inside-so-life-isn’t-fair escapes Jimin. He stared ahead, gaze landing on the once-silver gate. It was once beautiful, but since the new owners bought it, they paid no attention to outside view, or so he was told by the old lady next door, Janet. They knew everyone went there for the cheap prices anyway, she’d sigh. He really had to move into a house or something. He already had the money for a nice enough house or better apartment where all 4 of them could live happily though his job. Maybe he could look for a house only a few minutes away from the school. Mental note: look for house around school.

Quickly opening and speed walking to the elevator, he checked his phone once again. More drunk texts from the absolute best friend that he loves so very much in this very moment, Yoongi. He really did take his devastation seriously, as he shared a selfie with him and vodka with a text after saying “my news befrenddf!!!!!!!!”. Jimin let out a huff of amusement and disbelief. The man was almost in his late 30s and he still acted like he could be the age of his students.

The unlocking to the apartment was bittersweet. Suppressed memories always seemed to float into his conscious one by one when coming through the door, when silence and darkness met him. That house of cards-like mirage he’d fabricated all on his own tormented him because how could he be so stupid and naïve to believe two children would fix their doomed relationship. He was never happy, not after she barely showed up at home after giving birth. Not after she’d come home often with the stench of alcohol, cigarettes, and sex on her. She was the one who could never be a parent. The one that selfishly left when offered money and riches. The one who didn’t even think twice about accepting the offer. The one that left him for a richer man despite their various kids. The one he’d had to lie to his daughter about when asked of. The one that never thinks of her own kids and has started a new life with brand new kids and husband. The one that’s too late to fix things. The one he and his teenage son loathe with every fiber of their being.

He really had to move away to a nicer place. Sighing, he dragged his boot cladded feet along the living room towards his room to begin his night routine. His two jobs relied on his face and his body, so taking care of both was extremely important, mental stability somewhat important too. He kicked off his shoes and snaked out of his clothes, took his pj’s, and padded towards the bathroom. The most relaxing parts of the day for him were most simply when he saw his kids in the morning and taking a shower after being in a packed and hot night club, full of dried sweat which gave him a not-so-pleasant stench. Eunbyul just knew her daddy was a dancer; she didn’t need to know the explicit details. At least not until the age of thirteen, or maybe older (he hoped), when her very own older brother found out.

He scrubbed every inch of his body until his skin turned red because god, he could not stand the stench just rolling off him in waves. Now, he was fine. He was happy, scent of the bubblegum body wash Eunbyul insisted on buying filling his senses. He was finally home, and his daughter was turning a new chapter in her life. She was going to learn how to read and he would teach her the same things he’d taught her brother. How he loved that, the feeling of satisfaction reached after your child now knows something they didn’t before. He loves the way her eyes light up when she learns something. He loves it all, and he hopes it’ll last forever.

He remembered he should probably invest in a car and a house closer to the school, a 30-minute walk was no joke. He finally dragged his fatigued fingers to set the reminder.

    The flickering of lights showed little solace to the broken heart which you nursed. As you clutched your body, shaking with the sobs which consumed it, the broken pieces of your heart before you seemed to mock your naïveté. You’d placed the entirety of your trust on his palm only for him to close it and crush it. It’s not as though you could deny yourself of his blatant infidelity. You’d watched it happen after all. The Louboutin stilettos you’d picked for today which were once on your feet laid at the door of your shared bedroom with the one which you though was your beloved. You’d dressed up to surprise him and yet, all you’d found once you neared his office was your heart cracking. The journey home was filled with questions of superficial concern uttered by those which served your husband, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do anything but nod and send a watery fake smile. Every minute you’d spent replaying the scene you walked into caused your heart to shatter just a bit more, making it so by the time you walked numbly into the bedroom, your knees buckled and your face gave out. Your face of pretense was unable to be kept any longer than it already had been put up. No, everything was not okay.

    You weren’t meant to walk into that, that much you were aware. After all, why would it be intended for you to find your husband with his shareholder’s mouth on his? No, you hadn’t stayed long enough to watch as he pushed her forcibly away from himself and break their contract. How could you stay that long? Your weakened heart didn’t allow it. You’d read too much about this, all of your friends had gone through this, everyone had told you of the possibility of this. An affair. Your vehement refusal of the fact that your husband, sweet and lovesick Kim Taehyung, would partake in such a vile thing. He was always similar to a lost puppy when it came to you after all. He’d worked so hard to get you, it was almost laughable how it’d never popped into your mind. The biggest question in your mind as you laid on the floor of the darkened bedroom who’s only light was that of a candle was ‘what do I do now?’. A fairly simple question which would garner several answers with which you, however, did not want to partake in. As much as it devastated you, you couldn’t bring yourself to loathe him. As much as every breath with his betrayal in your mind hurt, you didn’t want to end things with him. Even if it hurt, you wanted him by your side. You wanted—no, needed— to forget what you saw. Your body and mind craved for him reassurance, his warmth. If he denied and was not truthful, you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

    The soft thumping of sock clad feet resounded, nearing the door you had shut in haste to hide yourself to the world. The soft knocking went not unnoticed, but ignored by you. It wasn’t until you felt the familiar warmth of your lover pressed to your back and his soft lips meeting your cold skin in comfort that you reacted at all. Your sobs had subsided, but as his broad frame embraced your smaller one, you’d started to let out cries of despair. He whispered simple words of comfort, attempting to subdue your audible grief. It had worked. After what seemed like a couple minutes, you’d be reduced to sniffling.

    “I know you saw. I saw you run in those... towers by the door.” You made no attempt to respond at his attempt of a joke. You didn’t know what would be acceptable in a situation like this for your well-being.

    “I’m going to be truthful, as I always am with you, my love. Please don’t doubt me, I beg you. I love you too much to let you go like this. Please... please look at me, my love.” You’d zoned into how his chest tumbled as he spoke. His words were gentle and full of genuine sencerity. You’d trusted him all these years, it’s not like you can’t bring yourself to again. Still, you’d graced him with nothing but silence. He sighed, knowing he couldn’t do anything but wait. Slowly, his words registered into your brain and just as slowly you attempted to face him from your kneeling position on the floor. He looked just like when you’d both met at the coffee shop you worked at. He would come in every morning despite having several assistants which would break their back to do anything he asked of them. Yet, he’d always make time to pick up his order every morning. He’d never pick up coffee, which you found peculiar for someone who looked like a businessman. He’d always pick something sweet paired with some pastry you offered at the location. Every day for two years he’d never failed to show up every morning until he, finally, asked you out. One could only guess the chain of events that happened before this moment. It was nothing short of sickeningly sweet and fairy-tale raquel days. This, however, was the first and biggest hurdle your relationship decided to encounter. How cruel could life be? He looked nearly the same, just a few minimal wrinkles of age here and there which would show as he did different expressions. He was still the same, however, and that hurt. How could the same Taehyung you knew all this time do such a thing to you?

    His expression was that of soft panic, his fear of losing you outshining any other emotion. You both looked at eachother for a few more seconds or minutes, maybe, before he continued.

    “i’m not going to say it was an accident.” The scattered pieces of your heart showed new cracks within them. They’d be nothing but dust by the end, you figured. You looked down at the floor.

    “I knew she was intending to kiss me. I didn’t think she’d try to, though. You have to believe me when I tell you it wasn’t something i wanted. I’ve done everything I can to keep things professional between us, but she doesn’t get tired of trying. I didn’t know she would do this. Ple—please look at me.” Could you believe him? You closed your eyes and inhaled a heavy breath, laden with your insecurities. Looking into his eyes, maybe it was wishful thinking, you saw they held the only emotion he’d retained throughout his his entire ordeal: sincerity. You could see even remorse. His brain was filled with ‘If only’ and ‘I should’ve’ thoughts. He hoped—desperately—you could believe him. He’d heard many in his position talk of this situation happening and he didn’t want the end they described to happen.

    “I know I should’ve pushed her off as soon as she neared me, but she always flirts with me and never steps over the line. I should’ve done it immediately, but I was stunned. If checking the cameras will make you happy then I’ll arrange so that you can look at the footage.” He suggested his voice softening and lifting into what sounded like a question. You took his cheeks in your warming hands and softly pecked him. You’d believe him, even if your brain screamed that he wasn’t being truthful. Even if your body didn’t want to believe the truth he spoke, you trusted him with your life.

-o-

-x-

“Now, why are you glaring at me?” said the red-haired boy across from you whilst rolling his eyes. You scowled at his answer, clear distaste showing across your features just like the hour prior. He really didn’t see what was wrong with what he did, huh?

“Well, gee, let me think Hoseok! First of all, you drak all the almond milk and left the two other types of milk completely untouched—three cartons by the way, if I needed to remind you-- in the fridge. Then, you clogged the toilet with your… your powers just because you thought it would be funny to see my reaction and now well I don’t know, my roommate is right in front of me acting like he doesn’t know me and looks genuinely concerned! I don’t know Hoseok, it doesn’t seem too farfetched to think that the fact that Jungkook is looking at me like I kidnapped him is your fault! Call it a hunch!” Your statement ended in frustrated screaming as he looked at you with a expression that could be described as guilt mixed with mirth and that only served to fuel your potent fury at your unexpected new roommate. Hoseok was an alien, in simple terms. He referred to himself as an “intergalactic being whose sole purpose is to reignite the Earth with its needed life-force”, but you stopped listening at the big word “intergalactic”. He said he came from the universe over, his planet deeming him most fit to do this role. When he introduced himself, his name was a series of clicking and whistling, and your puny college student brain could not manage to do such a thing any time you wanted to call him so he was simply Hoseok for now. He was well-versed in the English language, though, another attribute that won his superiors over for this mission. Even if he didn’t know the certain word for something, he’d simply use a scenario or a sentence to describe the word he’s looking for and you’d be able to provide, the only real up-side for you to being an English major.

He scrunched his nose and looked at the slightly disheveled younger man sitting on the floor, now coaxed with an ice cream cone and a Switch from his earlier “who are you?! Where am I?!” tangent. If there was anything to calm the younger man from anything during the scorching months of summer, it’d be the banana ice cream cones from the corner store. The Animal Crossing villagers’ language as his character interacted with them was all that rang through the apartment as his brain whirred to formulate a coherent, stutter-less response and his above-average-sized “heart” beat. It took several moments before he met your eyes and simply muttered a guilt laced “I’m sorry”. The roll of your eyes caused him to at least try and defend the Jungkook situation.

“Well, about the chi—err, Jungkook… He had asked, quite enthusiastically if I may add, to see some of my powers and I had planned to simply change his hair color. As you can probably assess, however, my mind… what is it…? Bu… ‘Bugged’ out? Is that the right word? Anyways… since my mind inflicted it with no set ill intent, however, it is most probably that his… amnesia? Forgetfulness will wear off in twenty-four hours or so. Most probably, anyway,” he finished, letting out an awkward cough at you clear distaste at the fact that he wasn’t even sure that your precious little roommate would ever remember you again. You needed Jungkook to pay his part of rent and if he can’t remember anything, he can’t do anything to pay it. So, you were in trouble and so was he. Essentially, Hoseok royally screwed up and you were on the very verge of evicting his otherworldly ass out. It’s not like he paid rent anyway.

“Well, lady, I may not know you, but you sure do know your way into a man’s heart, I’ll tell you that,” spoke up Jungkook from his sitting position on the floor, eyes still glued to the screen. Jungkook’s phase when you had first met of having an infatuation with you was finally happening again. All you could do was groan helplessly and hope that Hoseok was right.

-o-