The sound of muffled shouting woke me from my sleep. I kept my eyes closed as my consciousness was jarred by the sudden awakening, wishing myself back to sleep. Unfortunately, the shouting continued, and my fuzzy senses were starting to clear. They were angry shouts. With a small sigh, I willed myself to sit up, glancing across the dim room. Yoongi was not in his bed, the sheets disheveled and half pooled onto the floor. With a small sigh, I stood, shuffling towards the door without the energy to care about my pajamas or the state of my hair. It wasn’t particularly early, but I had been enjoying the opportunity to sleep in for once. Squinting against the light of the hallway, I made my way towards the racket coming from the living room.

“FOR ’S SAKE,” I finally was able to make out the voice- Jungkook’s voice, no less, hollering at the top of his lungs. I moved a bit quicker as he screamed again, “SHOVE OFF!”

“STOP BEING SO CHILDISH,” it was Yoongi’s voice this time, and I paused mid-step. I hadn’t heard him sound quite so angry before, his voice rasping from the repeated strain. This shouting match had been going on for quite a while, it seemed.

When I rounded the corner, the scene before me was… well, difficult to comprehend. All of the boys were in the room, but only Yoongi, Jungkook, and Namjoon were moving, tangled in the front doorway. “Jungkook, please just cooperate,” Namjoon spoke calmly, despite the fact that he was very clearly restraining Jungkook’s torso, his arms around his younger, slenderer friend.

Yoongi, on the other hand, was quite forcefully dealing with Jungkook’s thrashing limbs, the latter reaching out to grab what he could. Both of them looked like they had been physically battling for quite some time, blood dripping down a split in Yoongi’s lip. I took a deep breath, rolling my eyes before sidling up to Hobie, who was leaning on the wall nearby, a complex and serious expression on his face. He noticed my presence quickly, speaking before I could, “They woke you up, too, huh?” he grumbled quietly, forcing a small smile as his eyes continued to track his squabbling friends.

Nodding slightly, I kept my own eyes on the trio grappling in the center as I murmured quietly to him, “So what the hell is going on here?”

“Yoongi’s insisting on taking Jungkook to my therapist while he goes to physical therapy,” he explained calmly, his voice oddly devoid of any emotion. I guessed that the topic had already been exhausted.

“YOU CAN’T JUST FORCE ME TO GO ANYWHERE!”

I watched Hobie carefully for a quiet moment. “What do you think?” I asked him seriously. The idea was superficially a good one- clearly Jungkook needed something that we weren’t providing. We had strong-armed Hobie into seeking mental health, too. He had resisted, but it was helping, even he admitted that. However, we had sort of all took Jungkook’s renewed ability to speak as a sign of emotional healing, so we hadn’t really bothered. Not to mention we all knew Jungkook would put up a fight. I hadn’t exactly imagined a literal fight like the scene in front of me, but it wasn’t incredibly surprising.

“YOU MIGHT HAVE BEEN STRONGER THAN ALL OF US BEFORE, BUT NOT TODAY, LITTLE TWERP!”

Hobie sighed beside me, exasperated. “You can force him to go, but I don’t know how much benefit he’ll get if he doesn’t talk,” he explained, finally stopping to meet my gaze. “At this point you know Jungkook just as well as the rest of us. Even better in some aspects. You should know that forcing him to do something is the worst way to get him to do anything.” Hobie laughed dryly, looking away from me again as he gestured weakly at the struggle unfolding before us, “At this point, even if he thought therapy was a good idea, he’ll resist it out of spite.”

“WE’RE IN A FREE COUNTRY NOW, !”

“He doesn’t, though, does he?” I asked more to myself than to Hobie, who silently nodded beside me. Kookie wasn’t exactly a master of his own emotions, and he was even worse at expressing them. Hobie and I had completely tuned out the shouting match happening not ten feet away, but eventually my head was beginning to pound. I turned my head to the grappling pair, speaking up to cut through the yelling, “Jungkook, let me take you. I can drive.” I saw him relax, and Namjoon was quick to take the opportunity to properly restrain his captive. It was true; Jungkook was skinny and weak from his extended capture, whereas Namjoon had been living healthily for several months at that point. I continued, “If you don’t want to go inside-“

“No!” The room fell silent as Yoongi’s- not Jungkook’s- voice cut me off. It was like he had just released a wave of aggression in his voice, and I was struck speechless. He panted for a moment, catching his breath now that he wasn’t actively tussling with his younger friend. His sad, downturned eyes turned to me, desperation shining over his dark irises, “Please, Zoey, no. I’m glad you two have helped each other out with coping or whatever,” his voice grew quiet as his gaze moved to the floor, but everyone else was so stunned that not a single breath was audible. “He won’t change anything if you keep enabling him.”

Yoongi’s words stung, and I found myself blinking through an all too familiar pressure at the corners of my eyes. Out of anger or distress, I couldn’t say, but my heart hurt. Still- he was right. That logic didn’t help my emotions, of course, but it was enough for me to shrink back beside Hobie, who gently reached across the small space between us to take my hand. The silence was awkward and oppressive.

Jungkook, of course, did the honors of breaking that silence, “YOU CAN’T TELL AN AMERICAN WHAT TO DO IN AMERICA!” He began to kick and struggle again, but Namjoon was quick to clamp down, lifting Jungkook off of his feet and hauling him around through the front door. Yoongi turned to follow, pausing momentarily to look back at me. He said nothing, but his face was apologetic, hidden in the swirl of anger and panic he was wearing on the surface. I simply gave him a small nod, sending him on his way. He was right, and I knew it, but I wasn’t about to give him a smile and hug for calling me out in front of everybody.

Hobie gave my hand a gentle squeeze, but I didn’t return the gesture. “Well that was awful,” Jimin spoke up in an attempt to diffuse the tension. He was successful as Taehyung let out a low, rumbling chuckle. We all relaxed considerably with the commotion out of sight, and I considered going back to bed. Not to mention I wasn’t properly dressed. Still, when Tae, Jimin, Hobie, and Jin all sat on the sofas around the room, I found myself habitually joining them.

I was convinced the topic of conversation would hover around Jungkook and the admittedly bizarre scene we had just witnessed, but I was proved delightfully incorrect. “Zoey,” Jin called to me gently, his plump lips pulling into his familiar, warm smile. I raised my brows at him in silent response, and he continued, “You still haven’t taught me how to cool any American food.” His prompt was a rather abrupt diversion from the uncomfortable scenario we had just found ourselves, so I was quick to take him up on his offer.

After getting changed properly, I scoured the kitchen, Jin at my heels. He had insisted we had enough ingredients for me to make whatever I wanted, but he clearly had no idea what the staples of American cuisine really were. “Jin,” I laughed quietly, “We don’t even have any bread. We have to go to the grocery story.”

Jin had shopped almost exclusively at the Asian market for his ingredients. When he did go to the standard grocery store, he always went straight for the ethnic food or produce. That said, all four boys seemed unnecessarily excited to have me pick out food from “my homeland” at the Ralphs down the road. With four excited Koreans in tow, we walked down to the store, and through the automatic sliding glass doors. Shopping for groceries is one of those things that I never enjoyed doing. It was tedious, and a silly reason to leave the house. On the other hand, after around a year of forced captivity with one measly meal per day, I still felt a small sense of wonder walking into an American food store. Almost immediately, I lost Taehyung and Jimin as they disappeared amongst the aisles to explore. Jin and Hobie stayed by my side, asking me about every ingredient I plucked off the shelf. Most things were easy to explain. When I explained the combination of peanut butter and jelly, both of their faces crunched in disgust. I promptly grabbed a jar of each and promised to change their entire lives with a single sandwich. In the end, I grabbed enough for PB&J’s for snacks while I made Sloppy Joe’s, potato salad (with bacon, of course), and apple pie. I figured that was about as American as I was going to get without too much overextension of my mediocre cooking skills. I also managed to collect several colorful cereals and candy bars along the way, courtesy of the young pair of grocery explorers.

Of course, no lives were changed by the classic combination