The clock ticked loudly, reminding the room that the lecture had only been going on for an hour. Another second had passed.

And another.

And another, slowly, endlessly, obnixously. Jimin's eyes flicked to the clock again and again, the hands moving even slower to him. He wished he had the power to speed up time and put an end to his torture. But that was just science fiction and a dream that couldn't be accomplished with the bite of a radioactive spider.

'Popped corn doesn't pop on a empty watch, Min.' He could hear his mother saying, as his eyes zoned in on the clock again. He knew that. He definetly knew that, but it was all about wishful thinking at this point.

"Generative Syntax had a development of five stages according to Chomsky. Starting in late 1950s and going through 1965. Like any other form of-" Dr. Kim drowned on about similar properties of grammar and syntax and how to lawfuly imploy them. Jimin was only half listening. Chomsky and syntax just didn't interest him. "But remember syntax falls into-" He was surprised he could even understand half of what Dr. Kim was saying.

English had never been his best subject. He failed it twice before and now he was paying the price. He had to fill almost a fourth of his schedule with English courses and he was throughly frustrated. He honestly didn't need them and could get away with just making up the two courses he failed, but it would like good on his transcript. As long as he could pass them that is.

"Alright we'll finish up next week with the 21st century and the mainstream paradigm. Dismissed. Except, Park Jimin." He had been blocking out Dr. Kim until his name escaped the older's lips. He had been halfway out the door, ready to go home and work through some excessively hard AP biometrics homework that he somehow missed in the last week, but now he was stuck back in his desk listening to the annoying clock tick once again.

-

"You're failing again." Dr. Kim stated simply, walking back and forth in front of Jimin's desk. He flipped through a mainla folder, obviously full of Jimin's less than perfect test and homework scores. "Both Rhetoric and this class. I'm going to have to force drop you from Rhetoric." Jimin's jaw dropped. There was no way he could drop that class. It would go on his record and his parents would complain for days on end that he had to take it over again.

"Now, it won't go on your record." Dr. Kim continued, reading Jimin's mind. "It'll be taken off your schedule and you'll get money back for the tution, but I can't drop you from this class. It'll count as a failed drop if you decided to leave on your own. The only thing that I can do to help you out is get you a tutor." Jimin inwardly groaned. He didn't need a tutor. He was highly intelligent, getting high marks on almost every test and assignment he ever handed in. Despite failing English twice he had a very high IQ that shouldn't be laughed at. If anything he should be the tutor. "I'll pair you up with my TA. He's really good and he'll bring-" Dr. Kim kept talking, but Jimin wasn't listening. He didn't need a tutor, didn't want a tutor, but he knew there was no way out of it. 

Sometimes you don't get what you want you get what you need.

-

Dr. Kim, how had he even become a doctor was beyond Jimin, wrote him a pass to the Study Zone in the library, saying his TA would be there soon. Jimin honestly wanted to skip out and go home, but he thought he could have some common decensey and tell the TA that he wouldn't be making their sessions.

He slipped the pass into the note box on the libriain's desk. It was almost full and she wouldn't be looking at them anytime soon, sometimes he wondered why the box was still there. He moved through the aisles of books, lightly running his fingers over the shelves. 

He never spent much time in the libary, preferring to get all his study materials from his mother's study. She had all the original, unedited editons of text books and copies that didn't land in the school's stacks of dingy books. He picked up a random book from the Psychology section and made his way to the Study Zone.

The Study Zone was a small section of rooms behind the common area of the library. It was supoosed to be used for studying, but many students used it for . The walls of each room were mostly sound proof, save for the third room that had a large crack in the front wall that let all sound in and out, and the doors could easily be locked to prevent people from coming in on obsene love making. Plus the libraian was rarely in after three o'clock, It was way too easy to get away with elicit activities.

He threw his bag down on a bean bag chair, moving to sit at the table in the middle of the room. He sighed, flipping the book he had grabbed open. He was trying to get his mind off English. He hoped re-reading the 'Man's Search for Meaning' would do a good job.

-

"Victor Frankl. Not many people know about him." A voice interrupted Jimin's concerntration and he looked up to find the souce of the annoyance before looking back down at the book. The guy in front of him wasn't exactly catching his full attention.

"Psychotherapeutic methods and the connection bewtween life and death in desolation has always interested me." Jimin responed, flipping to the next page. He almost finished the book in the twenty minutes it took the TA to get there. It also helped that he had read this book about fifteen time since he was twelve, his mother forcing it upon him before he could fully understand what existentialism meant. The guy chuckled, sitting down in front of him.

"I've never heard of anyone bein' interested in Frankl and Psychotherapy for no reason. A psych major then?" Jimin sighed, closing the book and pushing it aside. He would never finish it with this guy talking to him. It was too distracting.

"Not even close." He could never fully get into Psychology like his mother. She worked hard as a Psychatrist, she had been put through the ringer and he was already taking four extra classes for her, trying to make her proud.

"Oh, then medical?" Jimin rolled his eyes. Just thinking about the possiblity of seeing blood made his stomach turn.

"No, I'm not a fan of medics. Too much Choraphor and Epinephrine." His father was the doctor. His parents were all about medicine and the mind, trying to make the world safer, mentally and physically. That wasn't him, and maybe that's why they pushed him so hard to be inteligent. "You'll never guess." Jimin finally took a full look of the guy sitting in front of him. He looked pretty basic. His icy blue hair was pulled back underneath a slim black headband, he was wearing a dark blue hoodie that had 'Old Souls Don't Die' printed in a white cursive font, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The only thing that truly stood out was the small tattoo on his wrist. He couldn't make out what it was or if it said anything important. He honestly looked like a bored college student, someone done with all the long class hours and life destroying parties that friends tried to drag everyone too. 

"Hm, I'll just have to keep guessing then. But before that I should probably introduce myself. I'm Namjoon, Kim Namjoon." He stuck his hand across the table, asking for Jimin to shake it. Jimin nodded, pushing Namjoon's hand away from him slightly.

"Park Jimin. Not trying to be rude, but I don't shake hands." Especially with someone with a hand the size of his own face. Namjoon chuckled retracting his hand from above the table. 

"I understand. Don't worry about it. Anyway, my dad said that you were failing his class and-" Jimin blinked at the words Namjoon just uttered.

"Wait, did you just say your dad?"