Yoongi smiled politely. "Was that a good thing?" 

Hoseok scoffed. "Hardly. I was a spoilt brat of a seventeen year old, I was practically dragged kicking and screaming."

 

Hoseok remembered how it had been that day.

"Mom, can't I stay here?" He'd begged, a teenager who was too prone to eye rolling and a sarcastic attitude for his own good. 

"No!" His mother had grabbed his battered suitcase out of his hand and hauled it into the trunk of their car. "Just because you're almost eighteen doesn't mean I'm gonna let you stay. Besides, it'll be fun!"

That last sentence had always been used so commonly amongst parents and patronising teachers alike that Hoseok was fairly certain there was no possible comeback created that would work, so with a scowl in place he clambered into the backseat, crossing his arms and huffing like a child who was trying to get their own way. 

 

The drive felt like it took a century.

"You'll love it here," His father reassured the two of them, a kind man but also one that took no nonsense. "My mom used to take me out here as a kid." 

For Hoseok, he couldn't imagine anything worse. He wanted his bedroom back, walls painted the colour of the sky and his friends just beyond the windows.

But he didn't say a word.

 

After what seemed like forever, continuously waking up with his face pressed to the window and his arm cramping from his own weight, they arrived.

Hoseok couldn't help but feel even more underwhelmed than he'd expected, staring up at the crumbling stone building he was to call home for the next few weeks with disbelief.

"This... Is where we'll be staying?" He asked to himself, though his mother answered.

"You won't even mind after a few days; you'll be enjoying yourself too much!"

Hoseok just rolled his eyes, grabbing his bags and stomping off inside. 

 

---

 

After a little exploration and unpacking his things, Hoseok felt a little better about the whole situation.

Though the house was crumbling and made of a grim brown and grey colour, the window of Hoseok's bedroom were enormous and overlooked an incredibly calm lake, surrounded by trees. At least if his family were pissing him off, he could go and hide from them. 

He'd also found that the house had several empty rooms, eerily quiet but a good enough place to read comics in peace.

Maybe this holiday wouldn't be a total disaster after all.

 

Hoseok came downstairs carrying his favourite comic book, his scowl lifted and his lips twitching with a sort-of-smile. Comics reminded him of home, gave him comfort when in a strange and unfamiliar place.

 

Two people whom he'd never met before were at the bottom of the stairs, smiling up at him.

 

"Hoseok!" His dad smiled, stretching out a hand to gesture towards the two strangers. "This is Mr. and Mrs. Park. Mr. Park and I go way back!" The man, the supposed Mr. Park, stretched out his hand. "He lives in the house next door, so you'll see him around I'm guessing." 

"A pleasure to meet you, young man," 

though Mr. Park was just trying to be polite, Hoseok found him a little patronising, his fingers dry and cracked against his skin.

"Y'know, my son's here too, he's about your age," Mr Park added. "But I have no idea where he is, probably wandered off somewhere. I apologise for the intrusion." 

"No, no!" Hoseok's mother insisted. "The three of you should make yourselves at home, I'm guessing we'll be seeing a lot of each other over the coming weeks." His mother gave a welcoming smile, a polite woman who was good with people. 

 

Hoseok almost rolled his eyes.

 

"Nice to meet you," Hoseok's smile was much weaker in comparison to his mother's.

Thinking quickly, he came up with an excuse.

"Want me to go and look for your son?" 

Mr. Park smiled gratefully. "Yes please. I hope the two of you get along!"

Ignoring the statement completely, Hoseok took off, breathing a sigh of relief. Now he was away, he could find a quiet place to read without the four grown ups or the mystery teenager that was stalking around his house right now. 

 

Most of the doors in the house were locked, the doorknobs twisting in his grip but never giving way. It took Hoseok a while to find an unlocked room, actually, but when he did he settled down on a faded blue armchair beside the window (though a plume of dust erupted into the air when he sat), and opened the comic to a random page. It didn't matter what page it landed on,he knew it by heart anyway. But this seemed to be the best way to not miss home too much, to relax. He could feel his shoulders slumping, all tension melting away, his fingers drifting over the dog-eared edges of it as he crossed his legs, sinking deeper into the chair until he felt his eyelids getting heavier as hours passed. 

 

Until a flash and a clicking sound caused him to jump and tense.

 

"The ?!" Hoseok's voice sounded croaky and rumpled, almost sleepy. He glanced around dazedly as he looked for the source of the disturbance.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" A voice squeaked, a boy much smaller than Hoseok scurrying in with a flushed face. "I didn't know anyone was in here; it's so dim and I took my glasses off to get closer to the lense..."

Hoseok realised the cause of the flash; a camera was wrapped up in the boys hands, the ones he could've sworn he saw shaking as he placed the heavy-looking pair of spectacles back on his nose.

 

Hoseok just shrugged.

 

"It's okay," he smiled, shrugging. The boy was an irritance, popping Hoseok's bubble, but he knew he needed to be polite. "Don't worry about it."

 

The boy nodded, sheepishly glancing from side to side, before coming to sit on the dusty couch across from Hoseok. Hoseok resisted the urge to groan out of annoyance, but stifled a laugh when a similar cloud of dust rose around the boy.

"I'm Jimin," he said softly, scuffing his shoe against the wooden floor. "Park Jimin."

Hoseok realised that this was the boy was supposed to be looking for. Funny, he'd been the one to be found instead of this guy, this Jimin.

 

"I'm Hoseok," he answered curtly, desperate to get back to his comic book. But Jimin persisted.

 

"I know! My dad told me you were coming. I've been so excited to meet you!" Jimin stuck his hand out much like his father had, all crinkled up smiles and eager eyes.

Hoseok shook his hand grudgingly, but noted silently how incredibly soft and small Jimin's hands were.

"I'm really sorry about the camera disturbing you."

'You're disturbing me', Hoseok thought, but forced another smile. He could grin and bear it, right?

"It's okay."

 

The boy barely seemed to notice he'd spoken.

"Because you see, I wanna be a photographer when I leave high school, so I'm practicing and maybe I'll get good enough that my pictures will go in magazines," Jimin spoke with such passion, such a sparkle in his eyes that Hoseok suddenly wanted to hear more. Well, almost did. "I can take your picture, if you'd like!" 

Jimin was overbearing, annoying even, but Hoseok tried not to let it bother him. He was way less annoying than his parents, at least.

"Sure, go for it."

 

Jimin gave him all sorts of instructions, telling him to pull the comic up to his chest and to peer down at it, to tilt his head but not too much, until Hoseok was close to telling him to stop.

"Perfect!" The blinding click of the camera almost making Hoseok blink, breathing out and relaxing once he no longer had to pose.

Jimin wafted the paper that emerged, waiting for the photo to appear.

"Wow, you look pretty good!" He exclaimed appreciatively, holding out the photo for Hoseok to look at. 

He had to admit, he didn't look half bad; his hair reflected the light, his face looking peaceful with a mysterious Mona Lisa smile. 

"Looks good," he mumbled, almost praising the kid but stopping himself, remembering that he didn't owe him anything, really.

 

"There you two are!" A voice from the door causing Hoseok to jump again. People really needed to give warnings when they approached him. 

It was Mr. Park.

"Oh, are you two getting along?" He inquired, his gaze flicking from boy to boy.

"Yes Mr. Park," Hoseok answered obediently, putting the comic book down. He knew better than to try and ignore a his father or a friend of his. His father was not the type to hold back.

 

"Well, we best be going, Jimin," his father nodded, his son standing up so straight it was almost like a soldier standing to attention. Clearly Mr. Park was not the type to hold back either.

"Oh..." Jimin looked a little disheartened, sending a glance in Hoseok's direction. Hoseok avoided his gaze. 

 

"I never said you had to say goodbye," his father continued with a grin that looked exactly like Jimin's. 

"Perhaps Hoseok could join us for dinner...?"

 

The two cast their eyes to him; Mr. Park with a curious gaze, and Jimin with a hopeful one.

Hoseok scrambled for ideas.

"Uhm... No thank you, Mr. Park," he choked out. "I'm still very tired, and I have a whole bunch of stuff to unpack."

 

He watched Jimin's face fall, and felt something a little like guilt.

 

So he met him halfway.

 

"But Jimin could swing by the house tomorrow if he wants...?" 

Jimin's eyes lit up, a huge grin on his face. 

"Yes please!" 

 

Hoseok headed upstairs to his musty bedroom not much longer after saying goodbye, listening as their parents talked on the doorstep about letting Jimin and his parents come and visit whenever they wanted.

 

"The hell have i got myself into?!" Hoseok thought, huffing indignantly. 

But still, Jimin wasn't all bad. Sure, he was annoying, but he seemed to mean well.

 

'Whatever,' Hoseok mused, clambering into one of the rickety single beds pressed up against the window. 'At least I can use him to avoid my parents for a while. Maybe I could find a way to ditch him...' Hoseok shrugged.

'Whatever, I guess I can always just ignore him when he knocks on the door.'

 

And with that, Hoseok read until he fell asleep with his face pressed against the comic's pages, dead to the world and unknowing of what would happen the next day.