42: THE THRILL THAT MAKES US FORGET

"TOMBOY," by Hyukoh

                “I don’t know, Taehyung-ah…” Namjoon was saying. “We only have a few hours before we’ll have to head out to meet the others.”

                “Please? What else are we going to do for three hours? We’ll just be sitting here. And I brought my paints, and it’s already dark, and we’re nearby.”

                Namjoon placed his elbows on the table they were sitting at, pressing his fingers to his lips in a pensive position. He glanced down. His bowl of jajangmyeon was completely empty. Taehyung’s was clean. He pulled out his cellphone and looked at the time: 7:45 P.M. They were planning to meet close to Juyoung’s place at an eleven. Even with the time it took to travel, they’d still be at least a couple of hours early.

                Maybe he should humor Taehyung today. The boy certainly needed cheering up. He had shown up at the shipping cite looking tired and defeated. Instead of asking, Namjoon just took him out to eat. It cheered him up, but now he was hungry for more distraction. Getting caught drawing graffiti on city property didn’t sound like the best means of distraction, though.

                Namjoon sighed. “You know I love your art. I really do, and I think you’re good at it and you should do something with it one day. But it’s not really a great idea to be doing it illegally. I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

                Taehyung scoffed. “Oh come on, I won’t get in trouble. I’m an expert!”

                “Why don’t we just walk around or something?”

                “We can walk there! Like I said, it’s really close to here.”

                “…Okay. Fine. We’ll walk there—”

                “YAY!”

                “—But we should leave early. Only paint a little bit, okay?”

                Taehyung was already getting up. Namjoon paid the bill quickly and rushed after the younger boy.

                Half an hour later, Taehyung was happily evaluating the wall filled with graffiti art. He took a can of yellow paint out of his bag and began spraying onto the wall. Soon there was a contented expression on his face, and a quiet tune on his lips. Namjoon watched him out of the corner of his eye, leaning back against the wall.

                “Why do you like graffiti so much, anyway, Taehyung-ah?”

                “Why? Well…I don’t know.”

                “Is it because you want to pull one over on law enforcement or something?”

                “I don’t love the police.”

                “No, I don’t think that’s it. I think it’s just because it makes you feel free. And maybe it gives you a thrill that makes you forget about all your other worries in life.”

                Taehyung just shrugged and offered a little smile, but then it softened and faded away.

                It had reminded him of the first time he met Namjoon, in the art room at school. He had never found out why Namjoon poked his head in the classroom that day. He came in just in time to see Taehyung being lectured by the teacher about the importance of classic art and the way that graffiti had degraded it and destroyed years of progress. Namjoon interjected that, in his opinion, graffiti was important because it provided a medium of expression for the city youth and epitomized modern urban lifestyle.

                That got both of them kicked out pretty quickly. Afterwards, Taehyung shared some of his work with Namjoon and they exchanged numbers. He was the first person who should any interest in his art. He was the first person to really show any interest in him. He was the coolest person he had ever met.

                Weeks later, Taehyung ended up at the police station after a particularly nasty brawl with some punks from school. He remembered the feeling of sitting there, alone, after all the other kids had been picked up by their parents.

                “Your father still isn’t answering his phone. What about your mother’s number?”

                “…I…don’t have a mother.”

                “Do you have any other guardian? An uncle? Older sibling?”

                “I…”

                He felt the piece of paper in his pants pocket. He hadn’t washed those pants in ages. He took the paper out and looked at the phone number. The words “COOL HYUNG” were scrawled above the digits in his handwriting.

                Before he could think about it, Taehyung was on the phone with Namjoon. “I’m at the police station…” He didn’t know what to expect. Certainly not for him to come. But twenty minutes later, there he was.

                “I apologize for the behavior of my dongsaeng,” Namjoon said, bowing to the officers.

                Without a word, they walked out of the station together. After a meal together, he drove Taehyung home.

                “Yah.”

                Namjoon whacked Taehyung across the shoulder, bringing him back to the present.

                The wall was suddenly illuminated with bright, white light. Taehyung’s stomach fell. He gotten so relaxed drawing next to his hyung. Looks like he still hadn’t outrun Seoul’s police department.

                Namjoon grabbed the bag of paints and ran. Taehyung dropped his can and followed. It was strange how quickly his panic dispelled into pure exhilaration. The feeling of the wind in his face just made him want to run faster. He turned around and ran backwards for a while, giving the police a gleeful smirk as he did.

                “What are you doing? Hurry!”

                Who knows how far they ran—it felt like forever. Several times they thought they had lost the police; several times they realized they were wrong. At a brightly lit neighborhood, with officers coming from both ends of the street, the boys realized their escape had failed. Namjoon put his hands up first, bag of spray cans dangling from his arm.

                Their bodies slammed into the side of the car as the police restrained their hands and took the paints. Namjoon turned his head to Taehyung, offering him a wry grin of encouragement. It made the younger boy swell with pride for a moment. His hyung was so cool, even now.

                But then it hit him.

                They were getting arrested. Namjoon was getting arrested. Despite everything, Namjoon had never had a criminal record. Not anymore. Because of him, that was different. What about his academic future? His chance at a admittance to a quality university?

                When their heads were pushed down and the two boys shoved into the back seat, Taehyung felt like the walls of the car were collapsing in on him. The officers said nothing, but he couldn’t bring himself to look at his hyung.

                No. What have I done?

Author’s Note

Honestly this needs a lot of editing but it is much late-o

I’m sorry it took so long. I’ve been doing a lot of end-of-the-semester things with peeps. Now that it’s (ta-da!) SUMMER(!!!) hopefully my updates will be less wacky. I say hopefully, but probably life will be just as crazy hahahahahahaha