Tugging at the sleeves to his expensive black suit, a black-haired boy let out a frustrated sigh. He knew that going to the dance had been a bad idea. It was even worse to have gone with a female, one known for being a no less. He was watching her dance with other, more muscular men. Looking down at himself, the boy sighed, disappointed in his appearance.

He was lithe, a feminine boy. He had a slim waist, lithe shoulders, an overall tiny and feminine frame. Most men around him were the complete opposite. Their shoulders, much broader than his, offered a peek at the muscles hiding underneath their suits and dress shirts. Looking back down at himself, and then back up at those he wished to be. He would never be like them, never. It was like a curse, having such a feminine frame. It made him inherently weaker, inherently a victim of bullying.

“Jimin?”

Snapping out of his trance when his name was called, the black-haired boy, Jimin, turned towards the source, eyes going wide once he saw who it was. Staring right back at him with a worried and sympathetic look, was the embodiment of an angel. His brunette locks styled to frame his face, a rounded nose that tipped at just the right angle, and a sharp, yet a bit rounded, jawline that caused people to stop and stare at how beautiful he was. Lee Taemin, a literal embodiment of the perfect male aesthetic.

“T-Taemin hyung? Why aren’t you dancing?”

Taemin chuckled a bit a