flashback;

A mixture of fear and embarrassment coiled within me, avoiding all cost that may possibly lead my eyes life locked on the stranger before me. I started playing and fiddling with my hands, a wierd habit that I do whenever I'm nervous or uncomfortable.

"– this is min yoongi." Namjoon introduced, pointing towards the blonde boy boredly sitting beside him. "...and this is jungkook." He nodded in my way.

I could only manage a small (constipated-like) smile, too shy and intimidated to even utter a proper greeting. Yoongi on the other hand only nodded, disinterest obviously painted on his face and blankness written very clearly in his eyes.

I don't like him at all.

"I baked cookies!" Seokjin announced, a tray in hand with drinks and a plate filled with newly baked cookies.

It was one of those rare days where our father is away for some business trip bull as what he likes to call it. But seokjin and I aren't that stupid not to know that he'll be away for a couple of days to go and pay his mistress a visit. Mom is away as well, something about our grandma being sick and all.

So that leaves the house all to ourselves. Usually, seokjin have his friends over or sometimes, he lets me stay up all night to play with my consoles since our father never let me play whenever he's around. He said games are for the weak and the stupid which I completely disagree by the way.

"Is Jimin coming over, jungkook?" Namjoon asks, taking a bite of the cookie then drinking the milk afterwards.

I was about to respond when yoongi beat me to it, a puzzled look on his face as he looks at me suspiciously. "Jimin?" he asks, glancing at namjoon for a brief moment. "You mean the park jimin that made taehyungie cry?"

"The one and only," seokjin smiled. "Would you believe it? My brother here is his bestfriend."

"Absolutely not," he interjected. "That boy doesn't like making friends, he told taehyung himsel–"

"Apparently except our jungkook here." Namjoon chimed in, "They been bestfriends for what now? two years?"

"Three." I corrected.

"Yeah, three." namjoon smiled before turning to my brother, "–oh, babe. can you pass me the tissue? some milk spilled down my shirt."

My brother could only roll his eyes and sigh. You could never leave namjoon even a second without him making a mess of himself. "Be careful, will you? I just cleaned the carpets." he tells him, wiping the milk on namjoon's shirt.

In the corner of my eye, I could still see the look yoongi is giving me. I could feel the doubt coated in his very stare. He doesn't believe me one bit.

Just then, the familiar