Jimin doesn’t go to the next dance team meeting.

                 He’s lost all face and doesn’t plan to show up for the meetings after that one, either. He even planned to skip out on school, citing a case of hayfever even though they’re still in the rainy season. Then Yoongi got on his case with his (incessant) pestering and now he’s meandering through the halls completely void of a soul.

                 Everyone is talking about the musical. They’re talking about how hilarious it was, about how it was still brilliantly constructed despite some screw-ups. They’re talking about the beautiful sets, the superb lightshow, and the dancing. They’re talking about how Seokjin is an artistic genius.

                 Jimin wants to throw up. He shuts his locker and starts toward the closest bathroom when a hand clasps onto his shoulder. He turns and sees Yugyeom panting behind him.

                 “Hey,” his teammate breathes, fanning himself. “I was looking for you. Why didn’t you show up for practice the other day?”

                 “O-Oh, um…” Jimin swallows. “I-I-I don’t know, sorry. Something just made me upset…”

                 “Is it because Seokjin stole your credit?”

                 He gawks at him. “How did you know? I-I didn’t show the dance to anyone else.”

                 Yugyeom offers him a sympathetic smile. “Man, we’ve been stuck with Seokjin longer than you have. He never comes up with anything, and for him to suddenly ‘conceive’ something for the musical? We didn’t believe it for a second. We knew it was you. Everyone on the team knows.”

                 He couldn’t believe his ears; there’s a sliver of hope. “Then—Then what about the school?”

                 The other boy shrugs vaguely. “Seokjin has… power. Even if we could call him out, we wouldn’t be able to, you get me? I’m—I’m sorry it had to be you, but this isn’t the first time he’s done something like this. The damage’s been done.”

                 “… Oh.” He looks at the floor. “Now what?”

                 “Well,” Yugyeom brings his voice down. “… Something happened.”

                 He glances back up, face muddled with concern. “What?”

                 “Seokjin, he—uh, you just really need to see him.”

                 So he does.

                 The yearbook room is bustling as per usual, but the members still take notice of him the moment he strides through the door. “If you’re looking for Yoongi,” a girl says as she passes by with some folders. “He’s away on a field trip today.”

                 Jimin goes pink. “U-Uh, no…” he stammers, “I’m l-looking for Seokjin-sunbae?”

                 “Seokjin?” She looks a little skeptical. “I think he’s in the back?”

                 He nods and trots off, peeking into the back studio. There’s a photoshoot going on with some of the teachers. Seokjin is faced away from him, speaking to other yearbook members. He waits until their conversation is finished before knocking on the door.

                 When Seokjin turns around, Jimin’s heart drops to his stomach. A look of horror overcomes him, and the feeling is something that multiples as the senior approaches him. “Hello, Jimin.” He greets casually, as if there isn’t an obscenely thick bandage plastered over his left eye.

                 “S-Sunbae!” he blurts, shaking in his shoes. Jimin could tell it wasn’t something as minor as a bee sting. The skin surrounding the bandage was a faint, lingering purple; it was serious. “What—What happened?!”

                 Seokjin lets out a pleasant laugh. “This is not anything you should worry about. I was merely punched in the face, is all.”

                 “M-Merely!” Jimin comes to the conclusion that the fact Yoongi just happened to be on a trip today is fishy. But he can’t find it in his heart to accuse him.

                 “Jimin, I would like to offer my sincere apologies,” the senior starts, turning that ring on his finger. “I realize that I’ve accidentally taken credit for your choreography at the premiere the other day.”

                 He glances at him and it takes all he has not to explode. He wants to scream. He wants to mock the way he says ‘accidentally’ as if he was being ironic. He wants to make his glare more smoldering, more veering towards a glimpse of hell. Instead, he just stares blankly.

                 Seokjin continues without so much as blinking. “I misunderstood what the MC was asking of me and wrongly laid claim to something that you made. I hope you aren’t too upset with me, because I have something to offer in apology.”

                 Jimin watches as he reaches into his shirt pocket and pulls out a small envelope. “… What is this?” he asks, once it’s been placed in his hands.

                 Seokjin smiles once more, and he shivers just at the sight of it. How eerie was that face; he’s obviously injured, and yet unreasonably gleeful. “It is an invitation,” he replies. “To a casual get-together I’m holding at the end of June.”

--

                  He catches the flash of orange exiting the building and starts flailing his arm, just before realizing he’s garnering more attention than desired and immediately settles down.

                  Taehyung covers his head with a book as he jogs across campus, his sleeves met with the spring drizzle. He doesn’t hesitate to dive under Jimin’s umbrella, almost crashing into Jimin himself. “Whatchu still doing here?” he asks, a bright smile spread across his face. “I thought I said you could go home without me.”

                  “You have the nerve to say that after you left your umbrella at my house…” Jimin snorts, turning to walk back. “Smartass.”

                  Taehyung laughs, loud and boisterous. “Did I? Well then, thank you, my lovely prince Park Jimin!” He walks alongside him, shoulders bumping often as they make the trip home. “This isn’t your umbrella, though.”

                  “Mm, I’m borrowing it. How was practice?” Jimin asks over the steady beat of raindrops.

                  “Good, good!” Taehyung does some swings. “Our team’s almost ready for the ping pong regionals. I’m playing the two-on-two with Lizzy. We’ll definitely win some shiny .”

                  “Nice.”

                  “How was your date?”

                  Jimin coughs violently, his ears going from flesh to blazing scarlet. “Wh-What date?!”

                  Taehyung gives him a knowing grin and elbows his ribs. “I know you and Yoongi went to see the musical together. That was a date, wasn’t it?”

                  “It wasn’t a date...” Jimin slightly pushes him aside to avoid stepping in a puddle. “We saw it together, but he was working, so…”

                  “Right.” Taehyung glances at him. “It’s not like he took you home with him or anything.”

                  He looks away.

                  “… HE TOOK YOU HOME WITH HIM!” the guy hoots, wrangling Jimin’s shoulders with excitement. “OH MY GOD, YOU GUYS ARE ANIMALS!”

                  Jimin groans, pushing his face away. “Shut up, Tae—!”

                  “Y’know, I talked to him once.” They stop at a traffic light and he presses the walk button about fifty times. “It was mostly small-talk, but we talked about you, too.”

                  Jimin blinks. “Really? When was this?”

                  “Uh… last week? He has the same lunch period as me, so naturally you were in class.” They start walking again. “I went to the yearbook room because I wanted to do something, and I saw him there. At first it was like, ‘hey what’s up?’ and ‘did you see the new Deadpool movie?’ Then he started bringing up the concept of soul mates and the convo went so, so deep. Like, man.”

                  “What did he say?”

                  Taehyung pauses for a moment, thoughts flooding through his mind. “Well, he said that while he believes in soul mates, he doesn’t think you’re his. I mean, Yoongi doesn’t think you’re his soul mate. It was pretty dramatic.”

                  There’s a sharp pang making its way through Jimin’s chest, making his steps unsteady. He’s not sure what to make of this information. Is that what Yoongi thinks of him?

                  “He also said,” Taehyung speaks again. “Even if you and him aren’t meant to be together, Yoongi will still love you. With all he’s got. He was being cute about it too, I should’ve lowkey recorded him saying it…” He clicks his tongue. “Damn.”

                  He grins at his friend and suddenly, Jimin is okay again, maybe a little more than that. Yoongi was right; maybe they aren’t meant to be. Maybe they won’t grow old together, and maybe they won’t even see their fifth anniversary. But as long as it’s now, as long as he—they—are together now, it’s alright.

                  After a moment, Jimin laughs softly because it sounds exactly like something Yoongi would say.

                  “And then I told him about your ,” Taehyung mutters, exaggerating the size of Jimin’s rear end with his fingers. “Round, but firm.”

                  “… WHAT THE HELL, TAE?”

                  The orange-haired kid snickers. He looks up at the umbrella hanging over them. “This is Yoongi’s umbrella, isn’t it?”

                  “Mm.” Jimin nods. “He told me to pick you up with it.”

                  “Nice guy.”

                  “Yeah…” He looks at his friend. “What were you doing in the yearbook room?”

                  Taehyung suddenly sputters. “Oh, um… To be honest, I just wanted to see Seokjin in action.”

                  Jimin raises an eyebrow, opening his mouth to retort before being reminded of a certain gift. “Tae, I—I need to tell you something.”

                  They pause at the stop sign at the end of Jimin’s street, the point where they’re supposed to part ways for their respective homes. Taehyung tilts his head. “What’s up?”

                  “I, uh, I don’t really know how to tell you this, so bare with me… Hold the umbrella for a second?” He passes it over to file through his bag. He finds it stuck at the bottom; an envelope of wine red, still sealed. “Uh… Seokjin gave this to me earlier.”

                  Taehyung leans in to take a closer look. “What is it? It looks like something you’d invite people to a funeral in.”

                  “C-Close…” Jimin stalls. “This—This is an invitation to the party… the party.”

                  His friend glances between him and the envelope. Then his face falls, almost as quickly as Jimin’s heart. “What—” An array of emotions flicker through Taehyung’s face before settling with a look of absolute mortification. “He gave that to you?”

                  Jimin flinches, staring down at the invite as if it’s done something to offend him. “Y-Yeah…”

                  “I—” Taehyung doesn’t say anything for a moment. “I, uh, I have to go home,” he says quietly, returning the umbrella.

                  He looks up at the other male with pleading eyes. “Tae…”

                  “I have to go,” Taehyung says, stepping into the rain. “I’m really busy—!”

                  “No you’re not,” Jimin shoots back.

                  “I’m not, but—” Taehyung bites his lip as he turns away and walks down the sidewalk. He doesn’t say much else as he disappears around the block, until Jimin is left to his lonesome under an umbrella built for two. He glances at the envelope, wanting nothing more to throw it down, stomp on it, and let it soak up puddles for anyone else to care.

                  Jimin ends up putting it back in his bag, knowing fully well that crashing a party wasn’t possible with an invitation in the equation.