* * * * *

Taehyung was the first to arrive to Jimin’s house, hours before the party, dragging along an ugly junior Jimin had never seen before.

“This is Namjoon,” Taehyung explained. “I found him on the street.”

Jimin was at a loss as how you could actually meet someone on the street. Do you just walk up to total strangers and say hi? That was creepy.

Although it did sound like something Taehyung would do.

Less than thirty seconds after he’d arrived, Namjoon was already popping open a beer can.

“… You do realize the party starts in over two hours?”

Namjoon shrugged it off. “It’s just beer.”

“Namjoon is an alcoholic,” Taehyung explained rather matter-of-factly.

The junior just waved him away. “Am not. And beer isn’t even alcohol. It’s got only 5%.” He took a huge gulp. “If you order fried chicken and get only 5% chicken, would you still call it fried chicken?”

“You really have a weird choice of friends,” Jimin whispered to Taehyung. Taehyung just laughed.

“And what does that say about you, pabo?”

Soon people flocked into Jimin’s house in groups of three or four. His friends brought their friends who brought their friends, resulting in a house full of people he barely knew. Not that he minded – it was exciting. The music was so loud Jimin could only hear the bassline. The very walls seemed to pulse with sound.

A group of bubbly girls dragged him, Taehyung and Namjoon away for a few rounds of truth-or-dare (despite Namjoon’s protests about playing a “lame middle-school game”). Most of it passed in a blur. He kissed a small short-haired girl, and then one with huge dangling earrings. After that, his luck mostly ran out, and after a weird round in which Taehyung had to his toes (Jimin wanted to kill the person who thought of that awkward dare) he finally gave up.

Plopping into the couch in the living room, Jimin was pulling his socks back on while Najmoon roared with laughter.

“I didn’t think you had the side in you, kid.”

“Oh shut up,” Jimin spat. He was already feeling tipsy but still managed to get back into his blue striped Nike socks. “I’m never playing truth-or-dare again. ing weirdos.”

Not only did Najmoon not shut up, but he laughed even harder. Jimin hit him on his stupid drunk face.

“Pass me a cig, will ya? I know you got some.”

Jimin did so without a word. Somehow, that pack of cigarettes, and, more importantly, the number scribbled on them in painfully small handwriting, were something he couldn’t get off his mind. He started turning over the pack in his hands, playing with it. Suddenly he got his phone out, stared at it, stuffed it back into his pocket, then took it out again.

Namjoon smirked at him knowingly. “She must be real pretty. You’re nervous as .”

Jimin wanted to smack his face again, but his hands were full and his head felt kinda heavy.

“Go on, called her,” urged Namjoon. “You’re gonna regret it if you don’t, you know.”

“Yah, what do you know, you drunk er?” muttered Jimin, refusing to look at Namjoon. He unlocked his phone, locked it, then unlocked it again. He stared writing a message, only to erase it immediately, then start anew.

Hey. I’m having a party right now. Wanna come over?

Yo. I got a party going on, wanna come by.

Hi. Sorry for calling so late. If you wanna come by, I have a party and there’s free booze.

“Hey, who are you texting? I wanna see! Do you have a crush? Do I know her?”

Jimin hadn’t even noticed Taehyung was there. “What the , why were you hiding behind the couch? Did you fall asleep or something?”

Taehyung and Namjoon looked to each other and seemed to come to a silent agreement. Before Jimin could protest Namjoon whisked the half-empty cigarette box with the scribbled number on it , while Taehyung managed to wrestle his phone from Jimin’s hands.

“YAH!!!” Jimin screamed, wrestling Namjoon on the couch while Taehyung ran to the other corner of the living room and excitedly typed a message. Jimin’s insides seemed to be dropping by the second and dread filled his chest. “Yah, don’t send anything, you ing bastard!!!”

He finally got rid of Namjoon by kneeing him in the stomach and pushing him off the couch. But he was too late. Taehyung grinned innocently and returned Jimin his phone. The message was already sent.

Jimin wanted nothing more than to murder Kim Taehyung, but the kid quickly disappeared into the next room and got lost among the crowd. Namjoon, who had been drinking for hours, fell asleep on the floor.

“You better not throw up on the rug or my parents will kill me.” Jimin told him, but wasn’t sure Namjoon was in a state to understand. Just in case, he brought a bucket from the bathroom and set it next to the wasted junior.

Half an hour later, the doorbell rang. Jimin ran to get it, assuring himself that it can’t be him. A senior wouldn’t come to a lame sophomore’s party, especially at such short notice. It was probably some more of Taehyung’s endless stream of friends. Noticing one of his snapbacks on the coat racks, he put it on to hide his messy hair.

His hands were strangely shaky while he turned the keys. He attributed that to alcohol.

* * * * *

KissTheDream: I'm kinda sad over the promotions for I Need You ending. It was my favourite BTS era. <3 Still, the dorks idiots weirdos boys need their rest.