Taehyung is an entrepreneur of cheese sticks.

                  According to him, he’s also an Arab prince in a country that probably doesn’t exist, a full-time part-time professional procrastinator, and apparently married to an American actress with a lisp. Taehyung is a lot of things, but he isn’t too quick to call himself a good friend.

                  It’s not like he’s trying to be modest. He just feels as if he could do so much more. That’s why he’s en route to Jimin’s house on a Saturday morning, shivering into his sweater as gusts of wind harass his face. Thank god they live only ten minutes away from each other.

                  He finds the house in the middle of the suburbs, and carefully trails across the lawn rocks before latching onto the brick wall. The twentieth brick from the ground sticks out more than the rest, so stepping on it will make it hell of a lot easier to get into the second-floor bedroom (he’s tried this theory many a time and it has yet to fail him). He climbs all the way up with ease, rests his arm on the window ledge, and knocks on the glass.

                  “I was about to call you,” Jimin says as soon as he slides the window up. His dark hair looks like a horrid mess, and what are probably the remnants of toothpaste foam is smeared across his cheek like an old scar; he looks gross as . “I need help, man.”

                  Taehyung hops into the room with a light thud. He closes the window behind him and stands on the heater. “That’s what I’m here for, little man. What can I, your lowly servant, do to assist you?”

                  Jimin gives him a side glare. “Okay, no. You’re not my lowly servant—”

                  “Fine, just call me peasant.”

                  “—and the ? Did you just call me ‘little man’? Bro, I’m not that much shorter than you.”

                  Taehyung whistles, “Someone’s in denial.”

                  The other boy ignores him and walks over to his closet to pick up several articles of clothing. “Does this shirt look good with these pants or should I go with the blue shirt instead?”

                  He jumps into Jimin’s bed and checks his phone. There’s one notification from the Farmville 2 app. “I didn’t know you were so fashion-conscious, man.”

                  “I’m not, but…” Jimin faces the mirror on his door and incessantly switches between the two outfits. “I want to look good for this date.”

                  A series of cow noises blares from Taehyung’s phone and both of them stop talking until it’s over. “… Wait, what date—? Oh yeah, you had a date with the Chanmi girl, right? You nervous?”

                  Jimin slowly turns around, displaying the most distressed look on his face. “… Man, I don’t know what the I’m supposed to do! I-I don’t know girls! What if I screw up? Oh, Christ—!”

                  “Hey, listen to me.” Taehyung sits up on the mattress and says very carefully, “… no one knows girls. Just be yourself, and you’ll be fine.”

                  “A-Are you sure?”

                  “Um… maybe just wash your face, comb your hair…”

                  Jimin runs off to his bathroom, groaning.

                  “PARK JIMIN, YOU ARE A VERY AWKWARD BUT NICE GUY AND ANY WOMAN SLASH MAN SLASH UNIDENTIFIED GENDER PERSON WOULD BE LUCKY TO HAVE YOU!” Taehyung screams down the hall. “REMEMBER, THE FIRST STEP TO A SUCCESSFUL FIRST DATE IS TO HAVE FUN AND BE YOU!”

                  “Shut up!”

                  He returns a couple minutes later, clean and fresh. “My parents are going to the market today,” Jimin says, meticulously fixing his hair in the mirror. “If you get bored and want to go with or something.”

                  Taehyung rolls into his bed, almost like a trespasser. “Nah, I’m going to nap while you’re gone. I’ve been playing League until 1AM last night, so dead.”

                  “League?”

                  “League of Legends.”

                  “Oh.” Jimin frowns. “If you were just going to sleep, then why couldn’t you at your place?”

                  Taehyung kicks off his shoes and pulls the covers over his face. “My mom’s home today.”

                  “Oh,” he says again. “Alright. I’ll be back in a few hours, then.”

                  “Have fun.” The guy waves at him. “Do you need contraceptives?”

                  “Shut up!”

--

                  They’d agreed to meet at the bus station, and maybe walk around a bit before they head into the theatre for the screening. After that, it’s just a matter of deciding if the date isn’t awkward enough for lunch. Jimin exhales.

                  He takes his hesitant steps off the bus when it stops and looks frantically around for the pretty girl who politely sent him a text saying that she already arrived. He finds Chanmi leaning against a pillar and tries to approach her as casually as possible. “H-Hey.”

                  Jimin shrieks when she shrieks. “Oh my god. Sorry. You scared me.” Chanmi pats the side of his arm in greeting. She’s got on a simple, white dress that’s more than enough to get his heart beating; after all, she does look cute in it. “Let’s get going!”

                  “O-Okay!” Jimin remembers what he read vaguely on the internet last night and holds his elbow out. Sure enough, the girl hooks her hand onto his arm and just like that, they’re off.

                  “It’s a little weird.”

                  He glances at her while they’re walking across the street. “What is?”

                  “You.” She laughs at his offended expression. “It’s because you’re usually with your friend, so it’s weird seeing you by yourself. And anyway, I see you every day surrounded by the kids in math.”

                  He frowns. “Should I ask him to join us, then…?”

                  “No, no!” She shakes her head. “I enjoy your company. He’s just a little… overwhelming? I had English with him last year, and he was a little odd, but it was fun.”

                  “That sounds like him,” Jimin replies. “And yeah, he’s a little hard getting used to but he’s pretty much a giant marshmallow… Taehyung told me you guys had English together.”

                  “Mm… Wait, did he show you pictures?”

                  “Yeah?”

                  Chanmi looks at him with wide eyes. Her cheeks suddenly flush. “… Last year was the worst I’ve ever looked in my entire life, oh my god. I can’t believe you saw that. Please remove that version of me from your memory.”

                  He tries consoling her, mentioning how her thick glasses and retro sense of style weren’t that bad, but she’s still flustered. “… I thought you were cute though…” Jimin mutters, going scarlet as soon as he realizes what he said. He averts his gaze to the sidewalk under them and almost runs into a lamp post.

                  She looks at him, craning her neck to see his hidden face. “Did you actually?”

                  He makes an attempt to recover. “… G-Glasses or not, you’re still you, and t-that’s all that really matters…”

                  By some wondrous miracle, Chanmi laughs. “Yeah, you’re right… but I’m not going to put those things on my face ever again. Contacts for life, man.”

                  When they enter the cinemas, the girl takes the liberty of buying their tickets while Jimin goes to get snacks. On the way there, he starts typing up a date report to Taehyung before remembering his friend must be sleeping right now. So he forgoes the text and ingrains every precious memory into his mind.

                  The cashier at the concession stand has to address him a couple times to get his attention. He stumbles towards the counter, at once noticing the tall figure standing behind it. Red hair swept behind a visor, and a silver plate that reads the name ‘Seokjin’ in stark lettering. The other male is just as surprised to see him. “Hello.”

                  “… H-Hi,” Jimin stammers. He doesn’t know what to do in this situation. They’ve only met for the expanse of three minutes last month, but Taehyung goes on and on about how great this guy is so Jimin knows more about Seokjin than he needs to. “… One medium bag of popcorn and two cokes…?”

                  “… Alright.” Seokjin rings up the order without a word, punching in those keys with the same elegance he’s always had at school. Given the state of affairs, it’s still pretty damn awkward and Jimin doesn’t know what to do with himself. He ends up not saying anything either and silently hands over his money. He hopes this is going to be a thing that is never brought up again at any point in the future.

                  But it’s Seokjin who starts once he hands over the food. “It’s such a shame Jimin,” he says. “I heard your name on the list for dance auditions.”

                  Jimin ultimately freezes in spot. He is probably the last person he wanted to talk about this with. Seokjin himself is part of the reason why he didn’t want to get up on that stage anyway. He shouldn’t have to talk about this to the top dog. “… Y-Yeah…”

                  “Why didn’t you audition? I know you have some skill; Yoongi mentioned it the other day.”

                  He looks up at the guy, and glances away. There’s something about his eyes that Jimin finds incredibly intimidating. They’re a pair of sharp, brown orbs that could probably sear anything in its radar. He tries to change the subject. “… Are you two friends?”

                  “Not necessarily,” the older male replies. He leans over the counter, chin perched upon his hand. “We just happen to spend a lot of time around each other. Putting that aside, it really is a shame… I would’ve liked to see you dancing. I’ve heard great things, and I’m sure we have one more empty space on the team. You’ve wouldn’t want to disappoint your friend, would you?”

                  Jimin doesn’t like the way he said that. He’s obviously talking about Taehyung, but what about him that Seokjin has the right to even mention the guy? As far as he’s concerned, Seokjin knows little to nothing about Taehyung and certainly doesn’t need to. “… I’ll think about it.” He intends to end it there, making a grab for this popcorn when his wrist is smacked down onto the counter.

                  “… Please do.” Seokjin smiles and takes his hand away. “Would you like napkins?”

                  He’s a bit shaken, so he doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, a girl steps up to his side and speaks for him. “Yes. Thank you, sunbae,” Chanmi says with defiance. “It was nice seeing you.”

                  Seokjin looks surprised to see her. “Oh? If it isn’t Miss Chanmi. Are you on a date?”

                  “Yeah. Bye.” She tows Jimin away with her and doesn’t stop until they’re both in their movie seats. There’s an unsettling silence as the trailers have yet to play onscreen. It’s another minute before she speaks again, voice hushed as if anyone could hear them. “… I don’t really like him.”

                  Jimin blinks at her, genuinely shocked. The reputation Seokjin has around school makes it hard for Jimin to believe anyone could hate him. But it’s as they say; you don’t have to like everyone, and not everyone has to like you. “… Why?” he asks, shifting the hot bag of popcorn in his lap.

                  “Our dance captain is practically in love with him,” she replies. “She doesn’t do anything without his permission. Its super annoying because it’s not like I’ve ever seen him break dance… or dance at all, to be honest. I don’t know why people put him on a throne he didn’t build for himself.”

                  Chanmi voices his exact thoughts. It’s everything he wanted to say to Taehyung, but shied away because he didn’t want the light to die in his friend’s eyes. How difficult it must be to idolize a person who doesn’t amount to much. “I don’t like him either.”

                  “Why is that?”

                  Jimin stares at the blank screen in front of them. “I don’t know, his vibes are just… and I don’t like the way he talks about Tae and hyung. It’s kind of irritating.”

                  “Hyung?”

                  His face flushes. “O-Oh, n-never mind."

--

                  Jimin paces outside of his bedroom for minutes on end, debating if he should walk in or not. Taehyung is probably still sleeping and he shouldn’t disrupt his nap by opening the creaky door. But then again, it was his room and he should be entitled to whatever disruption possible on his property.

                  He decides to enter as quietly as he can. It’s his room, but it’s also his friend trying to catch up on lost hours. Before Jimin grabs the knob however, the door swings open and smacks him right in the face.

                  “… J-Jimin?” Taehyung says, blinking as the other sinks down onto the carpet in pain. “What are you doing?”

                  “… Nothing, I’m fine...” He grabs Taehyung’s hand and hoists himself up. “You just woke up?”

                  “Where did you go?”

                  Jimin stares. “I was out with Chanmi, remember?”

                  “… O-Oh, right, right.” The guy stands aside to let him in. “How was it?”

                  “Are you okay?” Jimin brushes up Taehyung’s bangs and feels his forehead. “You look out of it. Wait no, you’re pale as . What happened?”

                  Taehyung frowns. “I’m alright.”

                  “You’re breaking out in cold sweat!” Jimin squeaks after touching the back of his neck.

                  “I might’ve had a weird dream or something, but I’m okay, I swear.”

                  “A dream?” He feels up the sides of Taehyung’s face. “That’s what you get for sleeping randomly during the day.”

                  “Are you concerned for me or not?” The orange-haired boy starts squirming. “Okay, stop touching me.”

                  “Are you actually okay?”

                  “Yeah.” Taehyung sits down on the bed and sighs. “Seriously though, how was your date?”

                  Jimin stares him down a bit more before breaking into a smile. “It was fun!”

                  “Ooh… did you get it on?”

                  “No, we didn’t ‘get it on’,” Jimin retorts, pulling his shirt off and tossing it onto the floor. “We saw a movie and walked around the mall for a bit after. It was nice.”

                  Taehyung coos, trailing after him as Jimin goes to fetch his other clothes from the washroom. “So did you hold hands? Oh my gosh, did you kiss?!”

                  “Are you like, five?” The other boy gives him a face. “No, we didn’t. We enjoyed each other’s company like normal, almost adults. She did give me these earrings though.” He points to the tiny, silver triangles attached to his earlobes. “They were for my birthday.”

                  “Oh,” he says, grinning. “I wonder how she knew.”

                  “Maybe because you announced it to the entire ing school?”

                  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Did anything else happen?”

                  Jimin pauses. “No.”

                  “Liar.”

                  “Okay, yeah, but I’m not comfortable with telling you. It has nothing to do with Chanmi though.”

                  Taehyung gives him a knowing look. “I’ll tell you what my dream was about if you tell me what happened.”

                  He considers the idea while pulling his clothes over himself. He figures he doesn’t really have anything to lose. “I ran into Seokjin.”

                  Taehyung lights up like a lamp. “Did you? Where?”

                  “At the theatre,” he replies, instantly regretting mentioning it at all. “He was working at the concession stand.”

                  “What?” The guy snorts, “No, that’s crazy. Jin-sunbae’s like upper class, he doesn’t have to work minimum wage.”

                  “But he was. He handed me my popcorn with his uniform on.”

                  “You’re lying.”

                  “I don’t lie to you, man.”

                  “True,” Taehyung mutters. He leans against the door frame and frowns. “Maybe he was volunteering.”

                  “You can’t volunteer for a paid job—!”

                  He shoots back, “okay! What happened with him?”

                  Jimin bites his lip. “Nothing. I just ran into him.”

                  “Aw, that’s it? Got me excited for nothing.”

                  He strides back into his room and pulls out his books. “So what was your dream about?”

                  “I’m not telling.”

                  Jimin looks at his friend, unimpressed. “You can’t just make a deal and not uphold it, you nut.”

                  “Make me!” Taehyung hops in place while making a kissy face. He’s trying to act cute, and instead of humoring him Jimin just starts doing his homework. A solid three minutes fly by until Taehyung can’t stand the silence and lets loose. “OKAY, FINE! YOU WIN! I’LL TELL YOU!” he screeches as Jimin reaches the end of math.

                  “So what’d you dream about that had you sweating to death?” he asks, casually chewing on a pencil.

                  Taehyung rakes through his hair. His tone is straightforward, and yet it’s full of uncertainty wavering in his dull voice. “I dreamt that you disappeared.”

                  Jimin’s mouth hangs open. “… Huh?”

                 “Like, you were standing in front of me and the next thing I knew, you were gone.” Taehyung illustrates his thoughts with vague hand movements. “When I woke up, you weren’t in the room so I thought you were actually gone. That’s probably why I looked like I freaked out.”

                  “Tae…” He tries his best to be comforting. “I’m still here, aren’t I? It’s just a dream.”

                  Taehyung shrugs. “Felt more like a nightmare to me.”