[JUNGKOOK]

My parents don’t flinch when I enter the house long after sundown. They probably barely knew I was gone the way they’re too busy dealing with each other. They probably didn’t even realize I came back either.

I kick off my shoes messily after locking the door, then drag myself to my room and throw my bag to a corner before opening my closet and changing into a big t-shirt and simple boxers. I was going to continue watching episodes where I left off yesterday, but my rumbling stomach reminds me that I haven’t had dinner yet.

I shuffle my way to the kitchen, then opening the fridge for any canned food I can heat up. It’s been a while since mom cooked anything for us. She used to cook for us every day, but ever since she and dad got rough she stopped doing most of anything. In the end, I’m the one who starts cooking on most days. Although it’s almost always only for myself since dad eats out most of the time and mom just barely eats more than a single loaf of bread in the morning.

“Hey, Jungkook,” I hear a voice calling out from behind me. I turn around to see dad on his phone, sitting alone in the dining table.

“Hey, dad,” I reply, taking out a can of clam chowder from the bottom shelf. “You eaten yet? Do you want some?”

Dad looks up to see what I’m talking about before shaking his head and refusing my offer, saying he’s already eaten with his co-workers earlier. “So, what have you been up to recently?” he asks.

“Nothing much, I guess,” I reply, dumping the contents of the can into a small pan. “I went to study with Taehyung today. He introduced me to his cousin who helped in teaching me stuff.”

“Really? That’s great,” he says, barely looking up from his phone.

“Yeah, he’s really smart,” I bring my steaming bowl over to the dining table to join him and continue the rare moment in which we talk actually to each other. Though I’m barely close to either now, it’s a lot easier to talk to dad than it is to mom, even though he doesn’t filter his words often. Despite me being home with mom most of the time, she tends to get…temperamental…easily.

“He also offered me to come weekly, as in for like, tutor sessions,” I say, taking a spoonful in my mouth. Dad looks up from his phone screen for the first time since my offer for a quick dinner and raises one eyebrow.

“Well, do you like being taught by him?” He asks.

“Yeah,” I reply, “I can understand things a lot quicker with him and he can teach plenty of subjects too.”

“Hmm, must be really smart, is he in university?” I nod, playing around with my food. “Well, if you want to and he helps you in studies, then I don’t see where the problem is. You can go weekly.”

It’s not like you’d notice anyway, I think to myself. I know dad’s being nice right now but I can’t help being salty whenever I’m with either of them. They literally make me sick daily by screaming at each other all over the place to a point that I can’t seem to look at them the same way when we talk one on one. But hey, I guess at least I’m neutral. I’m on neither side.

“Yeah, I will. Thanks dad,” I say before I quickly finish what’s left of my clam chowder and retreat to my room.

Three weeks in and I’ve been going to Jimin’s on weekends each time. It’s always on Saturday afternoons and goes on until evening. The first time going alone I was a nervous train wreck. I kept asking Taehyung for directions since, well, I forget easily. The moment I reached there I didn’t stop darting my eyes around everywhere and my thoughts roamed the entire universe. Luckily Jimin was able to make the situation a lot less awkward despite my nerves eating me alive. I don’t know how he does it but it just happens. In the end we just talk and study normally. It’s kinda like how Taehyung does it.

Every time I come over to Jimin’s dorm I always can’t help but look at the walls that are covered with his paintings. Most of them are landscapes, some are of animals, and some are even of some random things in general, like an antique pocket watch or a navy blue scarf.

“Do you like painting, hyung?” I asked one day as we were learning geography. He looks up from the textbook and follows my eyes to his wall of art.

“Yes I do,” he replied while smiling. “Very much.”

“They’re all so beautiful, hyung,” I said as I observed them one by one.

“You think so?” I nodded. “Thank you,” he giggled as he beamed. “I’ve loved drawing ever since I was in middle school. I don’t really know what got me into it, but once I started I couldn’t stop. Experimenting with different colors and papers to get different results never fails to excite me.”

He looked like he was lost in thought when he said that. It was as if those words came out of his mouth subconsciously. From there he talked about the different pieces on the wall and brief stories behind them. Like a painting of a small puppy that turned out to be his own that went missing when he was twelve or a gumball machine he saw at a carnival he went with his roommate last summer.

I can’t really understand, but I guess he’s really passionate about this. I wonder how it feels to be passionate about something. I’ve never been interested in an activity other than, I don’t know, anime. Ah, I like singing, I guess. But I’m nowhere near as passionate as he sounds about it. And I’m not confident enough to actually do it often or in public.

Jimin snapped back to reality all of a sudden and became flustered.

“Oh, sorry, I’m blabbering,” he laughed as he scratched the back of his head. “I made you stare like that.”

“No, no it’s alright, hyung,” I shook my head. “You seem to be quite passionate about this, and I think that’s pretty cool.” Jimin smiled as the thanked me, modestly saying that it’s just a hobby and that it’s really nothing. His eyes disappeared again, and his pearly whites were, as always, blinding.

I didn’t even realize I was staring.

Another thing about Jimin’s dorm is that it smells like aromatherapy. I had noticed it the first time I visited, but I never really got around in asking why. He said it’s because his roommate likes them, and puts it on whenever he’s home. Jimin said that he’s not too big of a fan of them though, since even though it’s only put on for a while, the smell lingers on forever and sticks everywhere.

I keep wondering why I’ve never seen Jimin’s roommate even though I’ve been to his dorm for nearly a month. I thought that it might be because he’s busy, being a university student and all, but I wonder if he really doesn’t have free time even on weekends, Jimin always does. I had been meaning to ask Jimin about it too, but I figured that it wasn’t any of my business, so I left the thought aside.

Another Saturday arrives, another tutor session with Jimin.

After showering, I decide eat a quick lunch before I leave. Oddly enough, I see dad reading a newspaper in the living room. Dad is almost never home during weekends. I’m not sure where he goes, but he always says he goes to the office to finish up early work or something like that.  He knows (well, we all know) that if he stays home, all hell will break loose. It gets infuriating, really. For everyone.

“You off to study with Taehyung’s cousin again?” He asks as I grab a plate of chicken I had made earlier. I then come over to sit down with him.

“Yeah,” I reply. “You’re not going to work today?”

“I am,” he answers while briefly looking away, “I’ll go a bit later.”

I continue eating silently and he too sips his coffee without a word. The air is always awkward between us. I wonder if it’s because he feels guilty about the whole him and mom thing, but I really doubt that. If he really did feel guilty he’d at least have it in him to spare a glance at me. But he never does. And whenever I bring up the topic all he does is shoot it down by butting in with another subject or shutting me up completely. It’s as if he’s saying, “We’re having a rough time, and I don’t need you to remind him of that,” instead of saying, “We’re having a rough time, and I’m sorry you have to get affected by it.” It’s like he just wants and expects me to endure it whether I like it or not.

“Anyway,” he starts again, “you go to this cousin of Taehyung’s is basically your tutor, isn’t he? Since you go to him every week and all.”

“Yeah, I guess you could call him that,” I nodded as I take another bite.

“Then in that case, isn’t it only fair that you pay him?” he suggests, taking another sip from his coffee. The thought never occurred to me. Of course I should pay him what have I been thinking? Going to his dorm and taking his Saturdays for nearly a month now and he gains nothing from it? How selfish of me! How could I have missed that at all?

“You’re right I guess I should,” I say, suddenly deep in thought as guilt started eating away at the edge of my brain.

“So you’ve been getting tutored by him each week without even thinking of paying him?” Dad asks, baffled when I shamefully shake my head. “That’s careless of you. The world doesn’t revolve around you, you know. You can’t be arrogant just because someone’s given you an opportunity.”

“I-it’s not like that…” I deny, not meeting his eyes while ignoring the sting in my chest for his choice of words.

“In any case, you should ask him how much he would want the fees to be, then tell me about how much we need to pay him,” he exhales. He eyes me with a familiar look he always has when he’s disappointed in me. I get it so many times I should be used to it. But I never am.

I nod without a word and finish my food in silence, as the air between us grows uncomfortable. I head out the door with a quick “bye” before he could make any more remarks to add to my guilt.

Reaching Jimin’s dorm is like a walk in the park to me now (no pun intended, seriously.) I know what time to take the train so that I’ll be able to come on time. Though we don’t have a fixed schedule, it’s a mutual, unsaid agreement that I come at two.

Today the train is early for some reason. Arriving fifteen minutes early at Jimin’s station leaves me at a loss at what to do. Well, I guess this allows me to walk slower, but what’s the benefit in that? I decide to take out a container of candied orange peels that I had brought earlier as I take my time in walking towards Jimin’s dorm.

I’ve only just recently loved making candied orange peels. I found the recipe on the Internet and I decided to try it out and they ended up being my favorite snack nowadays. It’s chewy and sweet and tangy and it keeps your mouth busy so you don’t get bored. It’s addicting, basically. Though I guess it’s not for everyone, since Taehyung’s not into them. He says despite them being candied and coated with sugar, they still taste bitter and weird on his tongue. I think it’s his loss.

Jimin opens the door a few seconds after the ring of the doorbell had ended. He’s wearing square glasses again, and his hair is disheveled as usual. He always looks so messy, yet comfortable when I see him. He barely wears anything more than a plain t-shirt and shorts or sweatpants. Well, who can blame him? I mean he’s not the one stepping out of his living space.

“You’re wearing a white t-shirt and ripped jeans again?” he laughs as he eyes me from top to bottom. “Complete with the Timberlands too I see.”

“I’ve only worn this here like, twice, hyung,” I reply, crossing my arms defensively.

“Twice out of three times, Jungkook,” he points out as I roll my eyes at him. “Just how many do you have?”

“I…um…twenty-four…” I look away, embarrassed as Jimin starts to laugh even more at my response. I don’t know why I keep wearing the same thing over and over again. I’m not one to think much about outfits when I go out. I just decide to wear something that looks okay with minimum effort.

“You’re lucky it looks good on you,” he says, opening the door for me to come in, “otherwise it would have become an eyesore by now.”

I guess I’m not the only one paying attention to his appearance.

Upon entering Jimin’s bedroom, I am met with an individual whom I have never seen before. He’s wearing a black t-shirt underneath a varsity jacket that’s obviously too big on him that he looks like he’s drowning in it. His eyes are little and shaped like triangles on his small face and are barely more than half open. He’s putting on his shoes, seemingly about to head out. Upon standing up next to Jimin, I can see he’s not much taller than him, if not the same. When he turns his head at my direction, a sudden rush of intimidation starts to crawl at my skin as he barely raises an eyebrow at me.

“So this is the kid you’ve been tutoring?” he asks, eyeing my entire appearance as if he’s evaluating me. I swallow a wad of saliva, darting my eyes towards Jimin nervously.

“Yep,” Jimin says, too busy rearranging his desk and preparing for our session to look back at me and see my internal cry for help. “His name’s Jungkook.”

“N-n-nice to m-meet you,” I stutter, trying (and failing) so hard at not being visibly tensed by him.

“Cool. I’m Yoongi,” he takes out his hand I shake it shakily. He then puts a hand on my shoulder, which startles me and causes me to blink rapidly as I try to catch my breath. “Calm down,” he laughs. Even when he smiles his eyes barely open more than half an inch.

“S-s-sorry…” I apologize as I see Jimin giggling in the corner. I drop my eyes and fiddle with my shirt while biting my bottom lip.

“He’s really shy with new people,” I hear Jimin say as he passes Yoongi by to go to the kitchen. “And you’re scaring him!” Jimin adds just as he disappears in the kitchen.

“Ah! N-no y-you’re not- I mean I’m not- it’s just-“ Yoongi giggles more seeing me stutter while I flail my arms everywhere as trying to defend myself.

“Sorry about that,” he says, and then reaches up to ruffle my hair. I shake my head a little too quickly, saying that it isn’t his fault. “Anyways, I gotta get going. See you around, Jungkook.”

After telling Jimin he’ll be out late, Yoongi leaves the dorm. Jimin comes back from the kitchen with two glasses of water in his hands and places them on the table. From there we open my physics textbook and start getting to work. After about half an hour pass, I decide to take out my container of candied orange peels and place them on the table, offering some to Jimin.

“This is an unusual thing to snack on,” he comments, picking up a sugarcoated peel and eyeing it.

“Have you ever had any, hyung?” I ask and Jimin shakes his head. “I’ve only recently tried it too. It turns out to be good so I ended up making them more frequently. Though, it’s not really for everyone.”

“You made these?” he asks with a fascinated look.

“Yeah,” I reply with a nod. “It takes time, though. Since the peels have to be dried out first.”

“I see,” he says as he takes a bite from one of them. I watch as his face contorts into a series of mixed emotions. First his mouth twisted, then his eyebrows twitched, and then he eyes me and half nods. I honestly can’t tell whether that means he likes it or not.

I guess it meant he did though, cause for the rest of the session, he never stopped chewing.

“Oh right, hyung, I forgot to mention,” I recall as I closed my textbook and notebooks and packed them inside my bag. Jimin raises an eyebrow at me, waiting for me to continue. “I’m sorry I haven’t mentioned this before, but I think that since you’ve been helping me with studies weekly and will continue to, it’s only fair that I pay you.”

Jimin raises his eyebrows as if he didn’t expect what I was saying. “Oh, you don’t need to do anything like that.  It’s fine, really,” he says.

“No hyung. I don’t think that’s fair,” I protest, not taking no for an answer. “Just tell me the amount you want me to pay and I’ll start doing so from now on.”

“But really Jungkook, I don’t need anything like money. I assure you it’s fine,” he insists while patting my back.

“But I already take your time on weekends, and make you teach me things you shouldn’t even have to recall ever again, on top of that I’m not a fast learner too. I feel like everything is for my benefit and it isn’t fair that you’re not getting anything from it,” I say as I pout my lips, bummed by the fact that he won’t accept my offer. Jimin’s look softens as he starts smilng at me, yet not saying anything.

“Hmm, then just pay me with this,” I watch as he picks up the empty container of orange peels from earlier.

“Hyung, that’s not what I meant,” I say, eyeing him in disbelief.

“No seriously, this is more than enough,” he grins at me. “You already work so hard. Seeing you improve more and more is enough payment for me by itself.”

I eye him, feeling defeated that I have nothing to say to that. “You’re so persistent, it’s kind of annoying,” I huff at him as I snatch the container away from him and stuff it in my bag, hearing him laugh as I turn my back on him. I then stare at his annoyingly grinning face one more time, still in disbelief that this is all he asks for. “You sure this is enough?”

“A hundred per cent,” Jimin blared his teeth again, and I let out a defeated sigh and muttered an “If you say so,” before standing up and head out the door after saying my goodbyes to be done for the day.

I’m Jeon Jungkook, a second grade high school student who is tutored weekly by an all-knowing, , overly cheerful, smartass law school student of the name Park Jimin.

And I pay him with candied orange peels.