Jimin steps into his living room, toothbrush in one hand and a cup in the other. He squints. “You’re doing your homework on New Year’s Eve?”

                 “It’s not homework,” Taehyung replies without looking up. He’s completely taken over the coffee table with assorted papers, scissors, a cutting board, and some pens. There’s even a pair of glasses hanging on his nose, but Jimin knows they’re just for show because there aren’t any lenses in them. “I’m making fake ID’s.”

                 Jimin stares. He sticks the toothbrush into his mouth. “Okay. What for?” he asks, past spit and foam.

                 Taehyung looks at him with a frown. “No. No, you’re supposed to say, ‘but isn’t that illegal? I don’t want you to go to jail. What are you doing, Tae? Think of the children!”

                 “I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware that I don’t have control over my own words.”

                 “Ha ha.” He picks up a card and hands it to him. “I just wanted to buy fireworks, but we’re not adult enough yet.”

                 Jimin scrutinizes the plastic rectangle. “… Not adult enough,” he mutters. “1989? No one is ever going to believe that you’re twenty-six years old.”

                 Taehyung looks mildly offended. “What? I could pass for twenty-six. My voice is so bass. I sound like I’m fifty.”

                 “Yeah, but you look five.” He gives the card back. “Your baby fat hasn’t disappeared yet.”

                 “And that’s coming from you?” Taehyung snickers. “If I’m five, you’re three, son.”

                 Jimin rolls his eyes and spits in his cup. “Either way, we’re not getting those fireworks.”

                 “True…” His friend pauses in thought. “Do you think—?”

                 “Yoongi’s on vacation.”

                 “Dammit.”

                 They take a bus into the city some time later, when the streets are bustling with excitement before the New Year countdown. There are musicians about, children rolling around in the snow, and vendors selling food to keep the populace warm.

                 The two of them make a game out of how many of their classmates can be spotted in the crowd. Jimin thinks he saw Sanghyuk and Junghwa together holding hands, but later debunks it as a mirage (and it’s too late for Christmas miracles).

                  “Have you thought about your resolutions yet?” Taehyung asks while they’re in line for fortune-telling. Jimin thinks it’s a little silly to predict your whole year based on a vague fortune, but the other kid insists on keeping tradition.

                  “Not yet,” he breathes, watching his breath disappear with the cold. “I mean it’s not like I keep up with them anyway… Last year I said I’d come out to my parents. I’m still pretty much in the closet.”

                  Taehyung shakes his head. “You’ve got a foot and some fingers out. That’s something, ain’t it?”

                  He shrugs. “I try.”

                  “That’s the spirit!” The guy wraps an arm around his shoulders. “Trying is the first step.”

                  “What about you?”

                  “Me? Well… I thought about what you said the other day,” he replies, gazing at the sky. “I guess I’m getting a job. And I’m not going to beat myself up anymore. I’ll stop curbing regret and try to be more positive. Like Anakin Skywalker.”

                  “Anakin became Darth Vader though.”

                  “Yeah, and look how happy he is now.”

                  “He died.”

                  Taehyung knocks him on the head. “You get what I mean. I’ll stop moping around.”

                  Jimin smiles. “I hope you do.”

                  They reach the front of the line and both donate some coins in return for paper fortunes. It ranges from good luck to bad luck, and somehow Jimin stiffens while unfolding his slip of paper.

                  “… I got good luck,” he sighs, relieved. “My year will be ‘full of happiness and fulfillment.”

                  His friend coos. “Ooh, nice. Maybe you’ll finally get laid.”

                  He smacks him across the arm. “What’d you get?”

                  Taehyung frowns and lifts up his sheet. “I got half-luck.”

                  “… What on earth does that mean?”

                  “Your year is dotted with obstacles, hardships, and worries,” he reads. “However, you will find happiness despite all.”

                  Jimin blinks. “That doesn’t sound too bad.”

                  “You know what it sounds like?” Taehyung starts folding his fortune into a crane. “It sounds like hard work. I want another one.”

                  He snorts. “Forget it. C’mon, let’s get something to eat.”

                  They stand in yet another line, this one for seasonal hot cakes. It’s a bit long, so he isn’t surprised when Taehyung gets impatient halfway through and disappears for a bit. He’d purchased enough cakes for both of them by the time he returns.

                  “Ooh, feed me!” Taehyung says, obnoxiously shoving his mouth into Jimin’s space.

                  He shoves in a forkful with syrup drizzled over it. “Where did you run off to?”

                  “I spotted someone selling these!” Taehyung reaches into a plastic bag and pull out a package of off-brand fireworks (it reads ‘Natural High’ in tacky font). “It was a little pricey, but totally worth.”

                  Jimin stares in disbelief. “Someone fell for your fake ID?”

                  “Here’s the beauty of it,” he pauses. Taehyung grins so widely that it’s almost contagious. “He didn’t ask for ID! I just gave money and he was like, ‘okay’.”

                  “… Uh… where did you buy it from again?”

                  “From the old guy standing in the corner over there.”

                  “… Right.”

                  Night falls on the two friends, and they find themselves wandering to the park of their childhood. They made sandcastles and played violent games under the jungle gyms, and Taehyung once broke his knee on the slide when they were ten. They return as almost-adults to blow up the damn sky.

                  It’s quite barren, considering it is near midnight in the middle of winter. Jimin has trouble not shivering to death so he attaches himself to Taehyung as the latter reads the instructions on the fireworks. They stand under the only streetlamp for miles.

                  “Okay, so we just light them up and back away. We got this.”

                  “We?” Jimin repeats, breathing onto his hands.

                  “Hey, if I get set on fire, you’re coming with me.”

                  He snorts. “At least then we’ll both be warm…”

                  Taehyung jogs out onto the field and rips a package open. He picks up one of his mom’s lighters, testing its flame. “What time is it?”

                  Jimin tries not cringe as he sacrifices his fingers to check his phone. “… 11:58.”

                  “Al-righty,” Taehyung sings, squatting to place the firework down. “Let’s hope we don’t burn.”

                  Jimin sniffles and wipes away incoming snot. “I-If we get caught, I don’t know you.”

                  “Rude.”

                  They’re patient until the clock strikes thirty seconds until a new year; Taehyung hastily lights up the end of the firework and runs to where Jimin stands, linking their arms together for extra warmth. “Starting our year off with a bang, aren’t we?” the guy laughs.

                  Jimin mutters, “fantastic, baby” and gets hit for starting the year with a bad pun. “Five.”

                  “Four!”

                  “Three.”

                  “Two!”

                  “One…”

                  His phone reads 12:00am. They both look up at the firework, expecting a long screech before explosions and pretty colours. Instead, they’re met with silence and its close friend, night.

                  “… Did… Did you light it up properly?”

                  “I’m pretty sure I did,” Taehyung replies, walking over to it. “Let me check.”

                  “Wait, I don’t think that’s a good idea—!”

                  “It’s a hundred percent safe! Trust—!” He screams his head off when the firework pops, rocketing into the sky and exploding into such magnificent colours; it lights up their entire world. “JESUS ING CHRIST MY LIFE FLASHED BEFORE MY EYES!”

                  Jimin wants to laugh, but he’s too cold for proper emotions so he spares a couple giggle-snorts.

                  The sky is beautiful.

--

                  “Do you think we’d meet in another life?”

                  Jimin looks at Taehyung, who’s staring at his bedroom ceiling. He can vaguely outline his features in the dark. They’re both tucked under the covers, his pillow hanging off the mattress because his bed isn’t big enough for two. So they’re squished together like two peas in a pod, arms draped over each other’s chests. It’s mildly comfortable. “Maybe? I don’t really believe in the afterlife…”

                  The guy turns toward him, propping his head on an elbow. “Well, what do you think happens after a person dies?”

                  “Nothing.” Jimin checks his phone. It’s 3AM. “They’re just dead.”

                  Taehyung makes a strangled sound. “You don’t believe in heaven, hell, ghosts?”

                  “I’m an atheist.”

                  “You’re a poo.”

                  Jimin jabs him in the ribs. “Okay, say we were born again and met. What would you do?”

                  He takes a moment before answering. “I’d try harder,” he says seriously.

                  Jimin’s not sure what to make of that. “… Huh?”

                  “If I had the chance to become your friend again, I’d try harder.” The guy lies back down, bangs falling over his eyes. A car drives down the street, lighting up Jimin’s room and for a moment, his orange locks shine in their great splendor. “So I don’t screw up. So I don’t turn out to be a crap friend.”

                  He’s at a loss for words; he’s rendered speechless because of his best friend’s sincerity, but above all else, his stupidity. “You’re not a crap friend, Tae. Why would you call yourself that?”

                  “I’ve screwed up sometimes man,” Taehyung argues. “You can’t deny that. I’m not perfect.”

                  Jimin sits up while a puff of air escapes his throat; it’s frustration. “I’d rather have you than someone who never made mistakes. Someone like that would be boring. I’d want you. I still do.”

                  Taehyung gapes, mouth hanging open while he tries to form a coherent sentence. Nothing comes out, so Jimin just speaks again.

                  “You wouldn’t even be my best friend if you weren’t such a ing . The only reason why we became friends in the first place is because you fell over a toy car and broke my face in kindergarten.” He’s not sure why, but he’s starting to tear up and it takes a lot to hold onto his tears.  “You don’t have to change, man. Even in another life, you have to be you. You have to, because it’s the only way I’ll ever find you again.”

                  His friend sighs. “You make me out to be some amazing person.”

                  “Give yourself more credit.” Jimin punches him across the arm. “And why do you have to change to satisfy me? Don’t you ever think about yourself?”

                  “I just regret a lot of things I did, okay? Like the times I made you sad… I don’t want to see you cry anymore.” He shudders slightly. “Not even in our next life.”

                  Jimin stares at nothing, processing his words. “… I didn’t know you thought like that.”

                  They’ve known each other practically their whole lives, and have been through the worst storms life could throw at them. They still stand strong, here and now, and yet the weight Taehyung carries on his shoulders is completely unheard of. What does that make him, then?

                  “Now’s a good time as any, huh?” His friend sighs again. “What I regret most… was not being able to save you the first time you tried to kill yourself.”

                  A pang hits Jimin’s chest like a gunshot, straight through his heart. “… Y-You saved me the second time.”

                  “There wouldn’t have been a second time if I helped you when you came to me,” he says, voice breaking down. “I didn’t even know y-you were being bullied. I-I could’ve stopped it sooner.”

                  “Tae…”

                  “But I just—I just brushed it off like it was ‘another one of your problems’, and I couldn’t—I couldn’t—!” he sobs, slapping a hand over his eyes but tears still fall. “—save you.”

                  Jimin doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around him, rubbing the back of the crying boy’s head to soothe him. “… Tae, let’s pretend we’re building a ladder,” he says softly. “We’re not sure what we’re building it for, but we’re building it together, step-by-step. Once we make the first step, then the second, and then the third… Eventually, we’ll forget about the first. We’ll forget what we did to make it, but we’ll never forget that it supports the rest of the ladder, that it’s the foundation for everything else we build.

                  It doesn’t matter what we did in the past. All that matters is that we keep going. Don’t dwell on the past anymore, Tae. Someone once told me it’s not a nice place to be. If we just keep living, every day, you and me, the past is going to look small to us. It made us, but it won’t matter.”

                  Taehyung still cries, curled up against his body because of the one, simple thing that’s kept him close all these years; Jimin’s warmth.

                  “… Don’t cry, you look hideous.” Jimin wipes his face with his sleeve. “I thought you said your resolution was to stop regretting. It’s not even four hours into the new year.”

                  “Y-You’re not a supermodel when you cry either, jackass.” Taehyung breathes to calm down. “And n-no one keeps resolutions anyway.”

                  “No, but you will.” Jimin combs through the guy’s hair. “Don’t regret anymore.”

                  “… Okay.”

                  “Happy New Year.”

                  “Happy New Year, Park Jimin.”

                  “Good night.”

                  “Night.”

                  “I love you.”

                  “I love you too.”