Jimin

It’s been 2 weeks since Jimin was hired by Hoseok at Hope World, he feels high off happiness. He spends every working day either teaching classes or shadowing Hoseok in his office, learning how Hoseok runs his business. The nitty gritty of it is undoubtedly boring. There’s tons of paperwork, phone calls, and general admin, but Jimin genuinely loves it. 

Jimin and Hoseok keep each other company, and they both know it. Trawling through stacks of paperwork and letting Jimin watch and learn all of the computer based admin wasn’t so boring because a friendship had formed between the two men, a beautiful bond between two like-minded people. One who had met his goal, and another who was on a passion sprint to meet that same goal. 

In fact, Jimin and Hoseok are becoming inseparable after only two weeks and they’re both on cloud nine together. They get coffee in the morning together, they work together, Jimin comes up to Hoseok’s office straight after teaching, they eat lunch together, and Jimin doesn’t even mind long days because it’s a long day with his new best friend with Hobi and he can’t believe he got so lucky. 

The other dance teachers adore Jimin, he’s easily liked by women who think he’s just the cutest thing in the world. It helps that he dances as gracefully as a swan, too. The only colleague with some friction is the one other male dance teacher, Daeyeol. Jimin wasn’t surprised when he started to realise only a few days after he started that the only other male teacher wasn’t sure about him, but he began to do what he could to befriend the guy, he doesn’t want any drama here. Daeyeol is just so standoffish with Jimin, and he was constantly in two minds about whether to tell Hoseok, trying to push it to the back of his brain. 

No, Jimin can’t tell Hoseok. He had just been given this incredible opportunity here and he refused to be the whiny kid complaining to his boss that someone’s being mean to him, because Daeyeol hadn’t been mean, just cold. 

Jimin consoles himself in the fact that nothing has actually happened, and there’s no point getting sensitive about one person not liking him. If he’s going to be a successful businessman like Hoseok, there will always be people who don’t like him. 

“You okay, Jiminie?” Hoseok muses, keeping his eyes on his computer screen as he types out an email to someone, Jimin forgets who, some other big gun business owner whom Hoseok often communicates with. 

“Hm? Yeah, just thinking,” Jimin hums, swaying contently in his chair like a child while he waits for Hoseok to finish the email so they can continue the reports they were working through. 

“About?” Hoseok asks after a pause, clearly focused on typing. 

“Oh nothing in particular,” kind of a lie. 

“Okay, I’ll be finished on this email soon, sorry, I didn’t expect this to crop up, just business stuff,” Hoseok apologises, eyes leaving the computer briefly to look at Jimin, Hoseok can read Jimin much more than Jimin would like to admit, “hey while you’re waiting do you fancy doing a coffee run for us and the others? I found a nice cafe not even a 1 minute walk from here last week, I can tell you who wants what. Take your mind off...nothing in particular.” 

“Yeah sure, why not,” Jimin beams, knowing Hoseok caught him out for lying about nothing being on his mind. In all fairness he’d happily sit and play the role of a damn chair if it meant he’d get to stay here at Hope World, picking up coffee for everyone was an honour. 

Hoseok takes a post-it-note from the colourful stack of them next to him, writing down the coffee orders of all the teachers working today on a bright blue post-it.

“Here’s what everyone has, obviously just get yourself whatever, here’s my credit card,” he says as he leaves his card and the piece of paper in Jimin’s trust. “Ooh also, I bought a thing online!” he marvels, reaching under his desk to pull out two sturdy looking takeout coffee cup carriers with handles and all. 

“Oh sweet! That’s tons better than the trays you get given at coffee shops, it’s like the ones TV characters always have!” Jimin nods in approval at the simple, yet innovative product. He loves life hack paraphernalia like this. 

“That’s exactly why I got it! See, you’re really on my wave-length, Jiminie. Anyway, off you go now, have fun!” Hoseok chirps, shooing Jimin away fondly.

Jimin happily bounces down the stairs and out of the doors of Hope World, breathing in the fresh air and letting it improve his mood even more as he strolls to the cafe just a minute walk from the gates of the academy. Hoseok was right about taking his mind off things, he had completely forgotten about Daeyeol for the time being. He’s now just so happy to be let loose in the middle of a work day with his boss’ credit card. 

After spending so many years in a job where he was constantly stepped on both creatively and just figuratively in general by any higher ups, his new adventure here was like some sort of wild dream, and in this moment right now he feels so special and wanted. Hoseok trusts him, and wants to help him achieve his crazy dreams, and he’s just so happy. 

Jimin is so lost on cloud nine again, he barely notices the queue in the cafe moving forward, prompting him to go and order at the counter. 

He orders everybody’s coffee, reading the 8 drinks out slowly to the slightly alarmed looking young girl behind the register who was wearing a “trainee” badge, maintaining his patience with the cashier in training. 

Jimin thanked her politely, moving on to wait at the end of the counter for the coffees, almost losing himself in happy thoughts again for the next few minutes until the barista is reeling off the list of coffees to him as she starts placing them on the counter. Jimin enjoys loading them all into the carriers, it’s actually quite satisfying and makes them all super easy to carry back to the academy. 

He’s in one of those moods where he wants to skip back to work, in fact he probably would if he wasn’t armed with a four slot coffee carrier in each hand. 

Jimin works his way from one studio room to the next, knowing that Daeyeol is the last stop and wishing it was the first so he could get it over with, nerves starting to build slightly. He shakes the nervous feeling away, relishing in the moments with the female dance instructors as they gush over the adorable, smiley little man bringing them coffee on behalf of their boss. 

They were all so grateful, and watching staff act genuinely happy in their workplace warms Jimin’s heart, making him wish that his colleagues from Violet Academy who he liked were here being treated this well. Rather than still being stuck working under that excuse for a management team. 

Jimin arrives at the door to Daeyeol’s room, he’d been praying this whole time that the teacher would be in the middle of a class, because all he’d need to do was stick his head round the door, gesture at the coffee, then simply leave it on the floor for him and get out of there. 

As Jimin opens the door slowly he realises that this isn’t the case, typical. Daeyeol is leaning over his bag, rooting around it for something. He is tall and slim with a typical muscular dancer build. He has dark thick hair styled to the side and a narrow face.

“Uh, hey, Daeyeol!” Jimin greets, trying to radiate positivity. 

“Can I help you, Jimin?” Daeyeol drawls, spinning around to face Jimin with an unamused look adorning his face. Bit rude, Jimin thinks, trying to not let it get to him. 

“I’m here with coffee,” he offers, walking to Daeyeol gingerly, who raises an eyebrow but outstretches his hand to accept. Jimin hands it over eagerly, just wanting to leave now. 

Daeyeol raises an eyebrow, “You did a coffee run? Why?” he prods, taking a small sip before confirming it’s his usual coffee with half an approving nod. 

“Well, it’s from Hobi, but-” Jimin begins, realising he’s just slipped their boss’ nickname in front of Daeyeol who quickly scoffs. 

“Hobi?” he deadpans, inhaling petulantly, “I see...”

“Uh, Hoseok, I mean. It’s from him, I mean I went to the cafe, but, yeah it’s-” Jimin splutters “anyway I’d better go.” Jimin internally kicks himself for speaking so nervously, bowing and turning on his heel to beeline it back to Hoseok. 

“Ah, right, Hoseok’s letting his new puppy loose with his credit card already?” Daeyeol calls out before Jimin can make it even ten steps towards the door. Jimin stops dead in his tracks, feeling het up from the comment but resisting the urge to answer back. Only for Daeyeol to continue his interrogation. 

“You’ve been here 5 minutes, Jimin. Don’t think that you’re anyone special just because you’re the big boss’ new pet. I don’t know what you do with him up there all day in-between classes, but do spare a thought for the rest of us down here that have been working our asses off for years for him, will you?” Daeyeol goads, prodding at Jimin’s over-sensitive nature. 

Jimin’s shoulders tense, “Hoseok treats all of you well,” he points out quietly, still facing the door stubbornly, refusing to turn around and look at Daeyeol who’s now chuckling to himself. 

“What would you know? Sure, he buys our friendship and lets us teach our classes how we please, but I don’t see anyone else being adopted by him after only 2 weeks. I’m surprised you’re not wearing a collar and barking for him-”

“Shut up,” Jimin seethes, now turning around slowly, he’s sure he can hear his own heart beating in his head somehow, “I worked my off too, you know? In another company, I was treated terribly! I deserve this opportunity as much as anyone else. You don’t know me.” 

Daeyeol lets out one loud laugh, “Jesus, how old are you?!” he spits in some sort of bewildered chuckle, “you really think that just because you ran away from a ty boss at your last job like a child who doesn’t like their school teacher, you deserve to parade into this place thinking you’re special? Kid, you’re Hoseok’s new toy, the man could drop and replace you faster than he could replace his Porsche. Now get out of my studio and run back to your owner, and if he mentions giving any of his staff a raise, kindly remind him that his loyal dance teachers do still exist.”

Daeyeol turns the other way, walking towards the back of the studio, leaving Jimin standing tentatively in the middle, debating whether to retort back. He really shouldn’t add fuel to this fire, or it would just get ugly. More ugly than it already is. He just had so much to say. 

How dare Daeyeol talk so lowly of the man that provides him a stable, well paid job. What sort of raise does he need when the pay is competitive enough, it’s a lot more than Violet Academy, that’s for sure. Who does he think he is to judge Jimin? Daeyeol doesn’t- and will never- know anything about Jimin’s life, how dare he assume that Jimin doesn’t deserve this opportunity. Conversation works both ways, if Daeyeol wants more out of this job he can go to Hoseok’s office right now and ask him. It’s not Jimin’s fault that he actually had the good sense to approach Hoseok himself. 

Daeyeol glances up at the mirror to see an angry, heavy breathing Jimin. Still standing in the middle of the studio, gripping the coffee containers until his knuckles turn white, thoughts swirling his head.

“Get the out, Jimin,” he commands coldly. Jimin huffs angrily, spinning around to storm out, making a point to kick the door shut with his foot so it slams, as childish as it feels. He power walks to the bathroom, placing the coffee cup holder with him and Hoseok’s coffees on the sink counter, then throwing the empty one pettily on the floor to make a point to himself of how angry he is. He storms into a stall and kicks the door shut behind him, locking it with shaking hands. 

Jimin puts the seat down, sits on it, and draws his knees to his chest, burying his face and letting the built up anger out in loud sobs. 

This isn’t fair, he’d only been here two weeks and was having the time of his life until now. Jimin is only ever nice to people, all he had done was go out on a limb by approaching Hoseok that day and he had been given an opportunity. Fair and square. Jimin had done nothing except come here prepared to work hard and learn to treat employees as well as Hoseok does. How dare Daeyeol insinuate anything else, he’s lucky to have a boss like Hoseok and all he could do was talk sourly about him. 

Jimin lets himself cry some more, knowing he needs to get it out before going back to Hoseok. He then wipes his tears with his sleeves before exiting the stall and going to the sink to wash his face, hoping to make the puffiness go down so he doesn’t look like he’s been crying. 

After deciding he looks okay, Jimin leaves the bathroom and begins to make his way back to Hoseok’s office, praying he doesn’t pick up on anything, but knowing he will. Jimin needs to act normal, he can never tell Hoseok that he’s had a run in with a colleague after only 2 weeks, nothing was going to ruin his new life here. 

But it all just feels so unfair.

 

Namjoon

Today will be a good day for Namjoon. Yoongi has been invited back to spend another day teaching piano here at the university, and any excuse to see his new best friend was good. 

Namjoon isn’t sure if he’s being too hasty in thinking Yoongi is his best friend, in reality he could just be merely one of Yoongi’s casual friends, the type you meet up with for coffee when you get a free minute. He just feels so giddy at the idea of having someone to talk to that’s not the other university teachers. All they talk about is work, and Namjoon wanted to have someone who he can sit and talk about life with. 

He feels sort of hypocritical thinking about sharing everything with a friend, though, considering he hasn’t told Yoongi about the fact that he’s secretly desperate to be a rapper. He’s just used to being in an environment where if he said this, he would probably be laughed at. 

It had been a positive two weeks, though. The pair had met up quite a few times since Namjoon had spontaneously decided to go to Yoongi’s cocktail piano gig at the restaurant. He was comforted to know that the kid involved in that drama- Jungkook- had exchanged texts with Yoongi since and was doing okay, although Yoongi doesn’t seem to want to talk about it much so he’s not sure how often they text.

Yoongi had mentioned over lunch together one afternoon that he’s not the social type who really has friends, and Namjoon admittedly spiraled briefly wondering if this means that he’s doing something right because Yoongi wants to talk to him, or he’s actually being a pain in the in Yoongi’s peaceful life and he’s too nice to tell Namjoon to go away. 

That was until Yoongi had been the first to text Namjoon one day last week about meeting up, stating that he needed a new coat and wondered if Namjoon wanted to tag along to the mall. This was when the whole ‘best friend’ excitement arose. He decides not to overdo it, though, and just enjoys the company of his new friend. 

Namjoon glances over to the clock, wondering if he should stop by the music room now while he’s between classes. It's a 50/50 chance whether Yoongi will be in the middle of a lesson or not but it’s worth a look. 

Grabbing his phone from his desk, Namjoon stands up, shoves the papers scattered over his desk into some sort of pile, and heads for the door of his classroom. 

He strolls down the corridor, getting caught a couple times by colleagues wanting to make pointless small talk about work, he doesn’t want to sound impatient with them, but he really wants to see his friend. 

Namjoon is actually quite good at small talk, it’s just too much when you work in this kind of environment, and seems to always turn into gossip about other members of staff which is something he didn’t think really happened in universities. Boy was he wrong. That staff room was like some sort of gossip cult, all the other staff cared about was making coffee and having a about whichever staff weren’t in the room at the time. Namjoon just didn’t want to be involved with that  nonsense. 

The music room door is in sight and Namjoon speed walks towards it, hoping Yoongi isn’t busy. Not that it matters a whole lot because he’ll still see him when he finishes, but still. 

Before he can reach the door, he hears his name. “Mr Kim!” a student calls in the distance, beckoning him over. Namjoon sighs, having only been a few seconds away from seeing his friend. He saunters over to the student, who’s waving an arm to signal him to come here. As he’s walking, Namjoon begins to hear shouting, now starting to jog towards the scene, was this a fight? Namjoons never dealt with this, fights don’t break out in university as often as high schools, what was the protocol? Why had no one prepared him for this? It must be in his paperwork somewhere. Namjoon has a great memory but he can’t remember what the hell to do with a fight in the corridors. 

“Hey!” Namjoon calls out, jogging towards the two students, a taller guy well over 6ft is squaring up to a much shorter guy, who honestly looked rather defeated at this point. 

“Stop that right now,” Namjoon warns, now approaching the pair slowly, knowing that he himself doesn’t want to get punched or something. 

“But he-”

“I don’t care what happened,” Namjoon interrupts sternly, “just stop right now and we’ll go somewhere else to discuss this, yeah?” 

Students start to crowd the hallways, all waiting to see what happens, some even filming on their phones like in the Western movies. This doesn’t feel real already. Namjoon wishes another teacher would appear, why is he dealing with this alone? He’s never dealt with this. He needs to stay calm. 

“You’re so dead,” the taller boy spits at the younger, grabbing him by the collar now, causing the crowds to get fired up and over-excited about the situation. The smaller student tries to wriggle free, looking distressed. 

Namjoon steps towards them quickly, instinctively grabbing the taller boy’s arm. 

“Let him go, we’re going to go and talk about this right now,” he scolds, getting firmer but also more panicked. Where were the other teachers and when would they appear?! 

“Get off me!” the tall student cries out, ripping his arm away from Namjoon and returning to square up to the smaller student again, the anger clearly not dying down at all yet. 

“I’m serious, we’re going right now!” Namjoon is now shouting, hoping to draw the attention of at least one other teacher who will step in. He’s breathing quicker now. He always imagined he’d be good in a situation like this. Namjoon is smart and rational thinking. He works well under pressure, and staff have always felt comfortable coming to him for guidance, even if they’re his superior. 

Suddenly in some sort of split second moment, the taller boy huffs some more breaths of anger and lets go of his peer’s collar, making Namjoon believe for a second he was laying off. Maybe he had actually dealt with this well, the pair were going to give up right now and follow him to the office, right?

Until the 6ft student goes straight back in to swing a punch at the smaller boy. 

It’s strange, Namjoon doesn’t really feel alive or real in this split second moment as he instinctively jumps forwards to push the tall student out of the way before the guy can manage to land a punch on the smaller student’s face. 

He didn’t push hard, or at least he thought he didn’t. He’s always been pretty strong but it’s not like he works out, he doesn’t have time. 

It feels like he’s watching in slow motion as the student tumbles backwards much more dramatically than he had anticipated, watching his head hit the floor when he crashes backwards. 

Now it’s really a complete blur. There’s blood on the floor, leaking from the boy’s head, and Namjoon’s vision is suddenly fuzzy and his ears are ringing as he watches the boy who now looks small crumpled on the ground. There are teachers now finally appearing and somehow Yoongi is suddenly here now, too. He’s lightly tugging Namjoon’s arm like a child trying to get their Mother’s attention. 

“Hey, Joonie?” a voice says, Yoongi’s voice. It’s kind of echoing, like in the movies. Something Namjoon didn’t think could happen in real life.

Namjoon thinks he can hear Yoongi calling his name  again, and again, but his eyes are fixated on the scene in front of him as teachers crouch next to the fallen student, while glancing between him and Namjoon. The smaller student stood bewildered, staring at Namjoon with big eyes. He looked equal parts shocked and grateful. Namjoon had just prevented him from getting punched very hard in the face, after all.

Someone's arms are wrapped around Namjoon’s waist, trying to hug him, it must be Yoongi judging by the height difference observation, and he can hear his name again. 

Suddenly the dean of the university has appeared and is whisking Namjoon away with an arm around his shoulders, he’s saying words but Namjoon still isn’t processing them as words, wondering what the hell he’s just done. 

He didn’t mean to, he really didn’t know his own strength. He just couldn’t watch that kid be punched square in the face. 

He doesn’t remember the walk to the dean’s office, but is now sitting on the leather chair on the other side of the big, fancy desk. 

The words ‘suspension’ are floating about and he’s so confused and panicked, willing himself to snap back to reality just for a second so he can concentrate. 

“Did you get that?” 

“Yes,” Namjoon says instinctively, he had no idea what was happening. 

“You can go home now, I’ll be in contact.” 

Home. 

Namjoon rises from the seat like a robot, turning around slowly and marching himself out of the office, almost walking into Yoongi who grabs him by the shoulders quickly before he can walk off. 

“What did he say?” 

“Huh?” 

“The dean, what did he say, Joon?” Yoongi shakes Namjoon’s shoulders lightly, pulling him back to reality. 

“Uh, I’m not sure, something about suspension. I’m going home,” Namjoon says flatly, shrugging Yoongi’s hands from his shoulders and surpassing him to walk slowly down the hallway, feeling like he’s in some sort of freaky out of body experience. 

He doesn’t remember driving home, but he’s suddenly there. Lying in bed on his side, staring at the wall until it gets dark out and he’s completely blanketed in darkness. 

Had he really just hurt a student? This doesn’t feel real, nothing feels real, it happened too fast. He’d been working there for years, always laying low and getting on with his job. Why had this happened and why did life feel like a dream right now? 

Namjoon reaches to the nightstand to check his phone, noting 5% battery and 4 unread texts from Yoongi, he places the phone back on the nightstand, letting his phone die. Nothing matters right now, everything feels bad. 

The events of the day replay in his head over and over, and they don’t make any more sense than before. Was the student dead? Surely not, Namjoon tries to rationalise with himself. Start from the beginning: two students fighting, one swings to punch. Was he definitely going in for a punch or had Namjoon imagined it? No he was definitely about to punch, and hard. Namjoon simply shoved him lightly out of the way, to protect the other student. But why wasn’t it a light shove? He thought it was a light shove, the student was meant to stumble back a little not crash to the hard floor. This was all wrong. It’s so jumbled in his brain.

Namjoon feels like he’s playing the events of someone else’s day, or some sort of dream, because he would never do this, ever. But he did, and he knew he could never set foot in that place ever again. 

Namjoon wants to write lyrics, he writes lyrics every time he feels something and this was the newest feeling ever. He felt nothing, like he wasn’t himself anymore he was just some floaty being. He had to write about this immediately because he doesn’t know if he’ll ever feel anything quite like this again.

He pulls himself up out of bed, still disregarding his phone on the nightstand while he fumbles about through the dark to make it to the stacks of lyrics on his kitchen table, plopping himself down tiredly on the chair and flicking on the little lamp he keeps on the table purely for these late night lyric writing sessions. He finds himself more inspired late at night than in the day. Sadly most of his writing is done during the day because he enjoys having a good sleep schedule for his job when he can, but that doesn’t matter tonight. Nothing matters. 

You know how in TV shows there’s that shot of the hands of a clock moving forward a few hours in fast motion? This is exactly how the next 2 hours felt. Namjoon wrote and wrote. Lyrics were pouring from that late night, depressed creativity flow. He realises he’s never felt this inspired, reading his lyrics back and feeling the most bizarre, deep feeling about them and what they meant. He wrote about life and how quickly it can do a u-turn, even when you’ve always been the one doing their best to be good and stay lowkey, you can still everything up. 

This song is from the heart, and Namjoon adores it. In fact it’s the only thing giving him life right now, he’d feel numb without these lyrics in his hand, they’re like gold dust. 

It’s 2am and Namjoon isn’t ready to stop now, these lyrics aren’t going to sit here on the kitchen table with the rest of them, he’s going to produce and record this rap right now with the limited technology he’s got and he’s going to post it on Youtube, because why not? Nothing matters right now, he’ll stay anonymous but he feels the urge to just get it out there. No one will watch anyway. 

The next few hours are spent between the laptop and microphone on the table, the music mixing program Namjoon had bought months ago is ready on his laptop to throw this mess together somewhat. He makes a coffee every hour, willing his body to stay awake and ride out this twilight inspiration until the song is done. 

Finally, he opens his Youtube account ready to post his work, grateful that although his 17 year old self chose the username as ‘RMmusic’ even though the full name was Rap Monster. He’d gone off that name in recent years, taking a mental note that he’d keep his ‘stage name’ to RM. As if anything was ever going to happen with this song, it’s basically just feelings from a very strange day spewed out on paper and thrown together on a cheap music program. 

Namjoon presses upload eagerly, not even waiting to see if it uploads before deciding he’s finally ready to crash into bed and sleep for a few hours, or a lot of hours. He would rather sleep than be sitting around feeling sorry for himself. Namjoon is the type to bounce back quickly, because he knows it’s the right thing to do. 

He needs to pick himself back up and look for another job because he never wants to show his face in that building ever again, he feels like a wimp and even wonders if he’s being overdramatic. He’d rather get a simple job at a store or something until he can find a secure job again. Namjoon thinks back to the accounting course he took when he was 18, wondering if it would give him any footing for a job like that. 

It doesn’t matter right now, he just needs to sleep off this weird, trance-like mood before he can think straight and job hunt. He reaches for the phone charger on the floor to plug in the dead phone still on the nightstand, letting it charge while he sleeps but still unwilling to turn it on right now. 

Namjoon doesn’t dream while he sleeps, he sort of just shuts his eyes and instantly passes out, then wakes up again what feels like 10 minutes later. He feels well-rested, unsurprisingly considering 10 hours have passed. 

Ready to face the world, he unplugs his phone, turns it on, and lets it load up while he gets out of bed to go and wash his face. His eyes look puffy, and his skin has a very subtle imprint of his pillow on his face. 

Namjoon isn’t shocked to hear his phone pinging away in his bedroom, no doubt notifying him about all of the calls and texts he missed. He had hoped everybody would just leave him alone, but no doubt Yoongi had sent more texts, tried to call, as well as the university trying to call. 

Correct, Namjoon grabs his phone and scrolls through unread texts and missed calls from Yoongi, and a couple of missed calls from the university. He calls the university back first, knowing to prioritise when he needs to. 

It rings a few times before there’s an answer, Namjoon alerts them that it’s him calling and is quickly transferred to the dean’s office phone who proceeds to tell Namjoon he actually got lucky as the guy he pushed is okay, understands why Namjoon did it, but is still angry that he pushed him so hard and isn’t comfortable with Namjoon working there any longer. Meaning the university would prefer if Namjoon resigned on his own. He confirms this was his plan anyway and ends the conversation as quickly as he can so he can call Yoongi. Trying not to dwell on this inevitable outcome. As sad as it is.

He hangs up the phone, hands only shaking slightly because it’s not like that situation could have gone any better, this was probably the best possible outcome. 

The texts from Yoongi were crowded by notifications from Youtube which was unusual, he was never all that active on Youtube. Until he remembers he spontaneously uploaded his new song to his old music channel the previous night, had it actually got views? Namjoon opens the Youtube app via one of the notifications, stomach doing flips when he sees ‘52,837 views, 187 comments’. Wait, what?

Sure it’s not viral, but it’s insane, was the Youtube algorithm just feeling nice or had someone with a bit of clout shared his video and got him the views? He doesn’t know nor care, he's too surprised at this random turn of events. Is it a sign that he should be doing music as his career like he always wanted to? Nothing will happen immediately but he could get any old job while making some music on the side until it picks up. It would be hard though, he wants Yoongi’s advice, Yoongi always knows what to say. 

Namjoon finally pulls up Yoongi’s texts, feeling horribly guilty at how many concerned texts the guy had sent and how many times he tried to call, plus the fact that Yoongi had never been over his house so wouldn’t know where to even find Namjoon. He just needed a break from the world while he processed the events of yesterday, only now ready to talk again and feeling inspired at the prospect of taking a new path in life, only now wanting to see Yoongi, admit his dreams, and feel validated that this is something he should at least give a try. 

Because what if he just went his whole life too scared to try making something for himself with music, and dying not knowing if it would have actually worked? That couldn’t happen, Namjoon is too passionate for that sort of outcome in life. You have to be brave to succeed. 

A quick text to Yoongi asking him if he’s free right now is sent before Namjoon changes into fresh clothes and uses some deodorant to freshen up a little more, knowing that even if Yoongi’s busy right now he won’t be for much longer. 

Yoongi replies quickly, eager for the contact with his friend at last. His text back is a mix of both worry and worry-induced annoyance at the lack of contact, plus relief that Namjoon is okay and also asking him if he’s eaten or even left the house, if not does Namjoon want to go get lunch at the restaurant that Yoongi played piano at because they have good food. 

Namjoon is hungry, he hadn’t even realised until Yoongi pointed it out but his stomach is now rumbling at the thought of lunch and he’s buzzing to eat some food and catch up with his good friend. 

He pockets his phone, grabs his wallet and keys from a side table near his front door and heads straight out to drive to the restaurant, getting there quickly and making his way inside to find a table, remembering that Yoongi doesn’t have a car and now regretting not offering him a ride. It’s okay he’ll give him a ride home. 

As he awaits the presence of his best friend, Namjoon plays with his phone mindlessly, opening and closing various social media apps and realising he’s a little nervous. 

It doesn’t take too much longer until Yoongi arrives, not even 10 minutes actually, in which time Namjoon denies ordering a drink, letting them know a friend was coming. It felt kind of wholesome being able to say that, he finally has a friend. 

“Kim Namjoon, what the ?” 

Namjoon deserved that. He looks down apologetically, “sorry for worrying you so much.”

Yoongi pulls him from his chair and into a tight hug, “yeah you’d better be,” he mumbles into Namjoon’s shoulder. 

He really does feel sorry, he hadn’t meant to disconnect from the world for quite that long. 

“I was so scared!” Yoongi says, now pulling away and taking a seat, eyes clearly curious but not knowing whether to pry. 

“Yeah, I lost my job,” Namjoon says as he starts playing with his hands under the table and staring at them awkwardly. 

“I know, I’m sorry. It wasn’t your fault, not really. You did what you thought was right,” Yoongi consoles. 

Namjoon sighs, “I know, I know. It shouldn’t have happened though.” 

“ happens, Joon.” 

“I know,” Namjoon nods a little. 

“What are you going to do now?” 

Namjoon purses his lips hesitantly before speaking, “so I actually wanted your advice on that, Yoongi. You always know what to say so I thought I’d just pitch this crazy mad idea that-” 

“Hey,” a voice interrupts Namjoon. He looks up to see the bartender who was also here that night a couple weeks ago, he’s looking at Yoongi kind of gingerly, wearing a chef’s uniform tonight. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” he apologies, “but are you that piano player from a couple of weeks ago?”

“I am,” Yoongi smiles. 

“I’m Jin, I was working behind the bar that night and I saw everything that happened and that you followed that kid outside, and I was just wondering if he was okay? I hope I’m not annoying you by asking,” Jin smiles back sheepishly. 

“Of course not! He’s okay, I’m actually still in contact with him, he was just shaken up that night but I think he’s doing a bit better, it’s hard to tell, though. It’s nice that you were concerned,” Yoongi assured, Jin now looking so much more relieved. 

“That’s so good, I’ve been so worried about him and whether he got home safe and all, I’m glad you’re here tonight. Hey, will you be playing piano again? That was amazing!” Jin beams, Yoongi laughs a little in return. 

“I’m not sure, your boss hasn’t contacted me since, I hope I do come back!” he admits, Jin’s face turned somewhat sour, just subtly. 

“Ah him. Well, I’ll mention it to him. What’s your name, anyway?” Jin asks. 

“Yoongi. And this is my good friend Namjoon, we’ll probably see you a lot, we like it here. Are you not at the bar today?” 

“Me? Oh, no, I do absolutely everything around here, I never know whether I’m coming or going!” Jin says with a laugh, not a real laugh though, it was completely false and he’s clearly just trying to joke like people do when they joke about their problems. 

As if there wasn’t enough of a gathering around Yoongi and Namjoon’s table, an older man who Yoongi seems to recognise is now appearing and putting a firm hand on Jin’s shoulder, Jin tenses a little.

“Ah, if it isn’t our amazing pianist from a couple weeks ago! I’m Sunghoon, I got in contact with you about the gig. I’ve been meaning to get back to you about coming again!” the owner schmoozes, Jin’s tension keeps growing at the hand on his shoulder but he smiles tightly. 

“Oh, yes I remember. Hi again, yes I’d love to come back,” Yoongi chuckles awkwardly, eyes shifting between Jin and the owner, feeling the tension laying thick in the air.

“Well I’m sure that can be arranged, I’ll call you about it soon, okay?” Sunghoon chuckles, now turning to Jin, “anyway, you’d better get back to the kitchen. Those orders won’t cook themselves!” Sunghoon jokes, slapping Jin on the back playfully and laughing too over the top. Namjoon watches Yoongi as his eyes narrow, the Yoongi senses kicking in quickly. 

“Yes, Boss,” Jin mumbles, nodding to Namjoon and Yoongi before hurriedly retreating to the kitchen with balled up fists. Namjoon could feel it too, something didn’t sit right with these two, this Sunghoon character felt wrong. 

“You fellas just let me know if I can get you anything, anything at all, yeah?” Sunghoon smiles sweetly as he slithers back to the table he was originally sitting at. 

Yoongi looks beyond Namjoon at Sunghoon, waiting until he’s definitely out of earshot and sitting at that table chatting. 

“What a sleaze,” he scoffs.

“Yeah,” Namjoon agrees, daring to turn around quickly to spy Sunghoon laughing and drinking with a table of overdressed customers. 

“Anyway, what’s this big crazy idea you wanted to tell me about?” Yoongi grins, eager to get back to their conversation. 

A waiter now appears, “can I start you off with any drinks?” 

“Two cokes please,” Yoongi says quickly, ordering for the both of them to hurry it up, not looking away from Namjoon. The waiter smiles a little, but nods without saying anything and leaves the two alone promptly. 

“Go on, you’ve piqued my interest,” Yoongi pushes. 

“Okay,” Namjoon begins, thinking of where to start. “So you know I love music, right? I said that before. Well, I really love music, and I like to kind of write lyrics? Well last night I sort of had this wild idea to write a rap song about everything I was feeling after that crazy day and I decided to be mega spontaneous and turn it into a whole thing, produce it on my laptop and post it on Youtube, and well it got like 50 thousand views overnight and a bunch of comments. I mean, I don’t know why, but it did. Do I...pursue this? I’ll get another easy job for now for the income because I can’t just dive into this full time, but maybe I could build it up. Is that stupid?”

Yoongi blinks slowly, looking like he has so much to say but doesn’t know how to say it. 

“It’s a lot, I know,” Namjoon rubs his neck sheepishly, feeling a bit silly now. 

The waiter brings two cokes over and Yoongi takes a sip immediately, stalling for some time to think. Namjoon stares at him expectantly. 

Yoongi takes another long sip of coke, swishing it round in his mouth for a second before swallowing slowly, “you should do it.”

“Yeah?” Namjoon asks, not even touching his drink until he’s fully put out of the misery of being left on the edge like this. “You really think so? If it’s crazy, just tell me. You can be honest, we’re good friends now-” 

“Have you ever heard of Agust D?” Yoongi blurts out. Namjoon racks his brain, he for sure has. He recognises it as a rapper name, but he listens to so many rappers. He’s so inspired by everyone and anyone who raps, after trawling Youtube sometimes until 4am, listening to everything he can, trying to take inspiration and emulate them, he’s sure he’s heard it all. 

“I definitely have, but I listen to like, everyone. Let me check Youtube,” Namjoon says, pulling his phone out to pull up Agust D on Youtube, instantly recognising a song called ‘What do you think?’ and realising he’s subscribed to the channel. “Ah, yes, him! I’m subscribed, I take inspiration from anyone I can find. He’s really good!” Namjoon gushes, wondering what kind of success story Yoongi will bestow on him about this cool rap artist. 

Yoongi drops the bombshell, quickly and matter-of-factly, “I’m Agust D.”

Namjoon stares at Yoongi, eyes wide and head tilted a little. 

Yoongi’s a rapper? Quiet, shy, piano playing Yoongi? You really don’t know a person, do you? You think you’ve figured someone out, caught on to their whole trope, until you really get to know them and are shocked into oblivion. 

“Oh,” Namjoon says simply, at a loss for words. 

“Yeah, it’s my way of being an anonymous, underground rapper so I can put my music out there quietly, while carrying on day to day as the shy piano teacher I am,” Yoongi laughs a little at himself. 

“Oh,” Namjoon says again, eyes still like a deer in the headlights. 

“I know it’s a lot to take in. Not to blow your mind even more, but Jungkook is actually my biggest, long time fan. I figured out it was him when that girl mentioned his Youtube handle, that’s why I followed him out. I mean, I did genuinely want to know he’s alright, but also that was part of the reason.” 

No way. 

Namjoon blinks twice, very slowly. “I-I mean, wow. Um, does Jungkook know it’s you? Did you tell him?” 

“Not right then, but I actually released a new song that very night about thanking my fans for everything. I gave Jungkook a shout out in it and in the description, he texted me as soon as he realised who I am,” Yoongi beams lovingly from the fond memory. 

“That’s insane, what a small world. And the fact I’m subscribed to you too, and that we both have a similar dream except you’re already pursuing yours. Maybe this is my sign I should follow this dream too, it was fate or something,” Namjoon ponders. 

“Mm,” Yoongi hums, “life really is completely crazy. Not to mention mint green Porsche guy.”

“Mint green Porsche guy?” 

“Yeah, this rich guy driving a bright, sparkly mint green Porsche drove past me blasting my music, then later on someone anonymously donated a large amount of money to my channel. I mentioned him in my song, but I still have yet to find him,” Yoongi relays the story. 

“This is ing crazy,” Namjoon breathes, “okay hold on let me get this straight. I’ve secretly always wanted to be a rapper and am now considering doing it on Youtube, you’re already doing exactly that but neither of us knew this about each other until now, and I’m already subscribed to you. Your biggest fan appears at the restaurant you’re playing a piano gig at, his Youtube handle is randomly revealed which prompts you as to who he is, but he has no idea his idol is playing piano next to him until the song comes out that night. A rich guy drives past you playing your music out of all the music he could play, and then anonymously- assuming it’s him, because it has to be- donates a large amount of money to your channel, now you’re looking for him and he’s still out there maybe or maybe not knowing you’re pursuing him.” 

“Yes,” Yoongi replies bluntly, shoulders beginning to bob as he starts to laugh. Namjoon quickly joins in, still processing all of the information in amazement.

“That’s a lot of weird parallels in all of our lives, how much smaller is the world going to get?” he shakes his head in disbelief. 

“I know, right?” Yoongi grins. 

 

Seokjin

Seokjin rushes around the kitchen, trying his best to fulfil all the lunch orders quickly until he can finally go on a well deserved break. He had almost been happy when he got to chat with Yoongi and Namjoon, until Sunghoon had to come and in. Why is every shred of enjoyment in Seokjin’s life stomped on, ripped to pieces, and thrown in the trash? 

There’s finally a lull in orders and Seokjin decides to take this as his one chance to get a very quick bit of fresh air, at last. He pulls his apron and hat off, hanging them on a hook by the door. Walking to the other side of the kitchen to alert his colleague that he’s going on break for a minute. Of course, seeing as every bit of enjoyment in his life is stomped on, obviously Sunghoon bursts into the kitchen right on queue, great. 

“You,” he points a finger accusingly at Seokjin. What now?! “If you’re gonna stand about and chat to customers, at least look pleased to see me when I join you to schmooze a little, it’s just the nature of business and consumers, Seokjin. How dare you embarrass me like that,” Sunghoon  scolds. 

“Right, okay,” Seokjin mumbles, turning around and opening the door to go on the break he’d been waiting so long for. 

“Don’t walk away from me,” Sunghoon storms towards Seokjin, reaching out to grab his sleeve but he pulls back quick enough to make him miss. 

“I’m just going on break, okay? I’ll be back in a minute,” Seokjin groans, trying to stay somewhat polite. 

“Fine, but be quick, and if you ever make things look that tense again in front of my customers, you’re ing dead. He’s the piano player too, we need him back so don’t this up for me Seokjin,” before he can reply, Sunghoon pushes Seokjin harshly out of the kitchen door and slams the door behind him. 

Seokjin kicks the nearest dumpster in rage, screaming a little to himself. This is so unfair. Why’s life so unfair? Seokjin slides down the brick wall to sit on the floor, pulling his phone out of his pocket with shaky hands to text Taehyung. One of the only bits of joy that no one can trample on, the other being his savings account of course, his biggest achievement to date. Taehyung always replies as soon as he can, offering kind- but often random- words to Seokjin. But it made Seokjin feel so happy, the guy is kind of weird and Seokjin kind of loves it. It was an unexpected friendship that was turning out beautiful. 

18 minutes passed much quicker than Seokjin would like, the entire time spent texting his friend happily, talking about life. He knows he has to go back inside now and endure another few hours of work torture before he can finish and has to go and endure some home torture because life, right? 

The day doesn’t go fast or slow, time passes exactly at the pace that time passes. No more no less. Time passes fast when you’re enjoying what you do, Seokjin doesn’t enjoy what he does. Time passes slowly when you’re eager to finish what you’re doing and get back to something good, Seokjin has nothing good to get back to. The concept of time was stuck in this miserable, ticking pace where he doesn’t want to be here or be at home. He wants to be wherever Taehyung is, but it’s not possible, life has too many commitments. 

So the time passes, and it passes, and then it’s home time. 

Seokjin gathers his belongings and mutters tired goodbyes to his colleagues, leaving the building for the last time today, actually grateful tomorrow is an off day because maybe Taehyung won’t be busy. If he can just get through tonight, tomorrow might be a nice day, Seokjin needs one nice day, it would cheer his life up. 

The bus journey home is actually peaceful, Seokjin looks forward to the commute to and from work, it’s his chance to listen to music and escape for a little bit. He often even takes the 45 minute walk to work for the freedom, depending on the weather and how tired he is. 

The bus arrives at Seokjin’s stop, and he begrudgingly exits the vehicle, walking the 3 minutes round the corner to his house. He puts the key in and unlocks it quietly because to be honest if his Mother is so drugged up that she’s fast asleep on the sofa he’d rather have a peaceful night tonight, then worry about getting up early tomorrow morning to make her some food. 

“Finally, you’re home.” She’s awake. Seokjin steps into the dimmed living room, finding his Mother sitting on the floor, knees pulled up to her chest, her small frame hunched over and rocking herself slightly. 

“I’m home,” he confirms, chucking his bag down by the door. 

“I’m scared, Jinnie,” she whispers. His heart falls a little. As much as he doesn’t appreciate how often she lashes out at him, she looks so vulnerable right now. She’s his Mother, after all. He’ll take care of her no matter what she says or does to him. 

“What happened?” Seokjin coos, joining his Mother to sit on the floor, also pulling his knees to his chest. He doesn’t like seeing her upset, but at the same time it’s better than seeing her irrationally angry, a side effect from the drugs that he knew she couldn’t help. 

“They’re going to kill me, Jinnie.”

Seokjin feels his throat go dry, was she on some sort of bad trip? “Who, Mum?” 

“The men from last week, the men I got the stuff from, I’m dead, I’m dead,” she cries. 

“Shh, it’s okay, what men? Tell me.” 

His Mother continues to cry into her knees, rocking more.

“Mum, tell me what men, Jinnie will sort it out, okay? I promise,” he assures, putting a hand on her shaking hands and rubbing his thumb over them. 

“The men from before, I owe them too much money, they’re coming tomorrow and they’ll kill me, I can’t pay,” she cries more, panting heavily. Seokjin sighs, letting his head fall into his own knees. 

Money. 

She’s got herself into trouble. He thought he’d done such a good job keeping her relatively out of trouble, he knows exactly what she spends the allowance he gives her on but how much was this up going to cost?

“Okay, Mum,” he exhales steadily,  “it’s okay. Jinnie will fix it, how much do you owe?” 

“Gonna kill me, gonna kill me,” she repeats, rocking back even more and forth in panic. 

“No one’s going to kill you, okay? You’re going to pay them what you owe and then you’re not going to do this again, how much?” Seokjin pats his Mother on the back gently, relishing in this one tender moment with her until she drops the bomb. 

“10 million won.”

Seokjin’s heart jumps to his throat, he retreats back from her a little in shock, burying his face into his hands and groaning. This isn’t happening. 

“What?! What have you done?” he demands, trying not to raise his voice too much. 

“I didn’t mean to! It doesn’t matter, they’ll kill me, tomorrow they’re coming for it and they’ll kill me. You don’t have that much, it’s fine,” she wails. 

“I do, I have enough, okay?” Seokjin assures, heart pounding heavily, he wants to throw up right here but has to swallow it quickly. 

“I’m gonna die.”

“You’re not, I’m going to go to the bank tomorrow and get the cash out and you’ll pay them off, then this will never happen again, right?” 

His Mother doesn’t respond, just cries more. 

“Right, Mum?” he presses. She nods weakly in response, now wiping her face with her sleeves and using the sofa to pull herself up into a wobbly standing position. 

Seokjin watches, disheartened, as she disappears into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her and leaving Seokjin sitting on the floor alone, broken. 

His savings. He’d saved for years, his 13 million was his little bit of pride, and 10 of it would disappear tomorrow, just like that, without even a thank you from her. 

He’d had enough. Life’s too unfair and he can’t go on like this. There’s nothing. 

Seokjin gets up from the floor and strides to his bag that he dumped by the door, pulling his wallet out. He retrieves his savings account card and takes it to the notepad sitting on the dining table, grabbing a piece of sellotape to secure the card to the top page of the notepad. He grabs the nearest pen and writes his account details and pin number underneath. Also writing a quick message to his Mother about how to withdraw the money, the amount in there, and writes a small ‘I love you’, and signs it from Jinnie. 

Seokjin leaves the notebook on the floor right outside of his Mother’s room to find it in the morning, knowing that if she’s still asleep when the men come over they can just take his card and sort themselves out for all he cares. Nothing matters now. 

With a last look at the house, Seokjin grabs his coat and slips it on, slinging his backpack on too for good measure and exiting his house, walking into the night. 

It’s a pretty night, there’s a full moon so it’s lighting up the paths just as well as a streetlight could, but much prettier. It makes the grass outside of people’s houses glisten slightly, as if it’s wet grass. Stones also sparkle, it just looks all around pretty. The air is so still as well, truly the perfect night. 

Seokjin walks some more, the silence in the dead of night is extra silent in this smaller neighbourhood in Seoul, only a few cars passing by every so often, the sound of crickets filling the air in between these events. 

He walks until he reaches a high bridge with a very rocky, shallow river below, looking over the railings and realising being here is a lot higher and a lot scarier than thinking about it. His hands tingle at the sight of the drop, throat drying and hands shaking violently as he grips the railings. 

Now’s the moment, what’s there to live for at this point? His work is terrible, his boss is terrible, his Mother is a good person who made bad choices and Seokjin gets the brunt of it. His savings will be wiped clean in a matter of hours, there’s nothing. Except his new friend Taehyung he supposes. Wondering if this friend of barely 2 weeks is really his plausible lifeline right now. 

Seokjin makes a decision in his head, he’ll call Taehyung’s phone right now. It’s midnight, he might not pick up. If Taehyung doesn’t answer, he jumps, if he answers, he tells Taehyung where he is. He feels guilty knowing that if Taehyung doesn’t pick up, he’ll see the missed call and feel horrible when he finds out what happened, he doesn’t want to put that on his friend, but he doesn’t know what else to do. 

He pulls his phone from his pocket, retrieving Taehyung’s contact details and pressing the call button. As it begins to ring he wonders if maybe he wishes that Taehyung wouldn’t pick up, it might be easier somehow.

It rings twice, three times, four times. How many times does a phone ring out before going to voicemail? 

Five rings, six rings. 

“Jin?” a groggy voice answers. Jin exhales loudly into the phone, heart pounding again. 

“Did I wake you?” he sniffles, now suddenly emotional at hearing Taehyung’s voice. He’d known him only two weeks and the boy had already had such an influence on him. The way he grins really big when he’s happy, the way he pats Seokjin encouragingly on the back during the brief chances they’ve had to meet up. 

“Nah, I mean yeah, but it’s okay, what you doing up at this time, Jinnie?” Taehyung asks, voice tired and raspy. Seokjin crumbles unexpectedly at the pet name, the same one his Mother calls him. Now crying into the phone, sending Taehyung into a panic. 

“What’s wrong? Is it something I did?” he worries. 

“No,” Seokjin chokes out. 

“Where are you?” 

“The bridge, above the river just near my house,” Seokjin admits, wiping his face with his coat. 

“Well what are you doing there at this time of ni- oh,” Taehyung stops, realisation kicking in. “Stay there, don’t move.”  The phone call hangs up, leaving Seokjin alone again, staring over the edge again but now with tear blurred vision. 

He doesn’t know how long he’s mindlessly staring out at the water for until his phone buzzes with a text from Taehyung. 

‘You still with us?’ 

Seokjin replies a quick yes, assuring his friend that nothing has happened. It’s probable nothing was going to happen either, because maybe someone cares enough about Seokjin to go out of their way to come and save him. 

After 10 minutes, a vehicle is pulling behind him. Seokjin spins around to see a Taxi parking on the side of the road, letting out Taehyung who is running towards him and throwing himself into Seokjin’s arms, clinging to him like his life depends on it.

“Tae? Taxis are expensive, why would you do that just to get to me!” Seokjin protests. 

“Nevermind that!” Taehyung retorts tearfully, crying into Seokjin’s shoulder. The pair hug tighter. 

“Thank you for coming,” Seokjin sniffles, burying his chin into Taehyung’s shoulder and squeezing tighter again, he felt so warm inside for once in his life. They rock side to side, unwilling to let go anytime soon but knowing they have to eventually. 

“Don’t thank me,” Taehyung croaks, pulling away, “I’m just glad you’re okay. Lets walk back to mine and talk,” Taehyung puts an arm around Seokjin to guide him away from the bridge and the two walk close by, almost brushing shoulders as they venture down to Taehyung’s apartment. It’s not a short walk, but they have each other. 

“My Mother,” Jin begins, tearing up at the thought of now having to be alive through this ordeal, “she got into some trouble. She developed a drug problem when my Father left, and I’ve done so well to help keep her relatively out of trouble until now. I can never stop her but I thought I had things as best under control as they could be. I was wrong. She has some men coming over tomorrow demanding the 10 million won she owes them, so I left her my savings account. There’s enough.” 

“You’re giving her all of your savings?!” Taehyung squeals, “you were so proud of that!” 

“I know, Tae, but there’s no option. She said they’d kill her, I don’t know if she was just being paranoid but that’s a lot of money, she can’t leave it unpaid,” Seokjin explains, Taehyung stays silent. “I just left her with my card and account details then came here. I didn’t see a point anymore.”

Taehyung breaths shakily, “I’m glad you phoned me.” 

“I’m glad you answered.”

Taehyung puts an arm around Seokjin and the pair walk closely. 

“Can I stay with you for a few days? I know you’ve only got a small apartment but I will literally sleep on the floor if it means not going home. My Mother will be fine, she can pay the debt and use the remaining money for whatever she needs. I’ll text her tonight to tell her I’ll be back soon and to have the money. I can’t go back yet Tae, I can’t.”

Taehyung looks at Seokjin with worried eyes and a pout. 

“Of course you can stay. This is just such a situation, Jinnie, I’m sorry,” he laments. Seokjin tears up again at the nickname, taking a shaky inhale. 

“My Mother calls me Jinnie…”

“I’m sorry, I won’t-” 

“No, it’s kind of comforting,” Seokjin assures. 

“Okay. You can stay with me as long as you need, Jinnie, we’ll be okay,” Taehyung gives Seokjin a side hug and reaches with his spare hand to wipe his tears with his sleeves. 

“Thanks, Tae.”