“Now who on earth could that be?” Mrs. Park said as she stood to answer the door. Jimin felt nausea rise in his throat. The wait had been torture and dinner had proven only more difficult for him. Only awkward conversation had been made about absolutely irrelevant stuff such as how basketball had been going for his brother and what was new at work with Dad. Jimin noticed that they had pointedly not asked about anything he had been doing in the years he had been away. In fact, the only questions they had bothered to ask him were “how’s the kimchi?” and “do you want more rice?” It was poor attempt at avoiding the obvious-obvious being that Jimin knew absolutely nothing about them since he left, and he was all the more left out for it. He wanted to be excited, needed to be. He was doing it, finally proving his father worng. But now that the time was near, he couldn’t feel anything but panic. This was a bad idea. He shouldn’t have done this. He should have thought this through. His parent’s would never buy it. They’d throw them out as soon as-

    “Oh my goodness!” His mother cried. Both Jimin and his father lept from their chairs and rushed to the entrance. Jimin was chanting curses at himself for being so stupid. His mother was going to kill him, his mother was going to kill him, his mother was-

    “Hahahaha oh my put me down! Put me down! You silly thing!” Jimin was completely awestruck. His mother was being swung around in a circle by none other than Hoseok himself. He was giddy and smiling brightly as he clutched her to him, laughing just as much as she was. Jimin’s father was at a loss of words. Standing in the doorway, watching the spectacle with barely concealed joy, were five other men. One Mr. Park remembered with barely concealed disdain. The others, he was baffled as to who they were. Jimin cleared his throat in apprehension.

    “Uh-uh hi guys...didn’t know you were popping in so soon! W-would you like to join us for dinner?” Jimin asked. The group members exchanged flustered glances-all on purpose of course.

    “Oh no no, we just wanted to drop by and see you since we were in the area.” Namjoon offered with the most alluring smile Jimin had ever scene. He was pretty sure his mother’s heart just exploded because she was practically leaping out of Hoseok’s arms and dragging Namjoon inside.

    “Nonsense! Any friend of Jimin is a friend of...oh, nice to see you Taehyung, anyway, come in come in. I made plenty of food, plenty!” Mr. Park looked as if he was about to say something but the daggers Mrs. Park shot him shut him up. Jimin wanted to die at that very moment, wanted nothing more than to vanish off of the face of the earth. His father was looking at him as if he had just brought some atrocity into his house. Jimin shrugged his shoulders and offered some half- explanation. Nothing would satisfy his father however. Jimin became worried that his plan wouldn’t work, but that fear soon vanished once dinner resumed. If there was one thing the Bangtan Boys were good at, it was buttering up parents. Namjoon was all sophisticated beauty, holding academic conversations with Jimin’s brother that were way over the heads of everyone else. Hoseok and Seokjin were tag-teaming Mrs. Park with their cute dimples, lavish compliments, and added comments on topics ranging from what made a good octopus stew to the type of cut on a suit that complimented Lee Byung Hun’s collar bone the best. Taehyung and Jeongguk’s arguing had managed to distract Jimin from his worrying and managed to subconsciously make him eat his food-food he’d barely even touched earlier.

But most surprising of all was that Mr. Park himself had also been enjoying the company, specifically Yoongi. He had somehow managed to rope Mr. Park into a conversation about politics that was both heated and amiable. Jimin would have never imagined in his life seeing his father relax in a social setting with someone he barely knew had it not been for the proof in front of his face. They talked about varying business topics as well and Jimin had even seen his father smile. Yoongi told him of his plans to start a record label and the mechanics of what that would entail and even his plans to dabble in some stock business. Mr. Park had both commended some of his ideas and even offered his advice. In a matter of twenty minutes, Yoongi had managed to do something with Mr. Park that Jimin had never managed to be able to do in all his life. If he wasn’t so excited about the possibility of this development improving his chances of earning his parent’s approval, he might have been jealous. But jealousy doesn’t last at the person who was helping you accomplish your dreams. Jimin must have been smiling really big, because Taehyung giggled and poked his cheek.

“You’re like a light bulb.” Taehyung said. Jimin pouted and stuck out his tongue at him.

“Yeah? Well you’re a pain in the-”

“Language!” Mrs. Park called from over the table. All eyes turned to Jimin, whose cheeks were now bright red from embarrassment. Hoseok looked at him teasingly and whispered to his mother.

“Does Jimin have a bit of a potty mouth when we’re not around him? What a naughty child!” His mother giggled and whispered back to him.

“Yah! He wasn’t nearly as bad until he got to that dance school in Busan. They were such a nasty influence on him with all of their sagging pants and hip new lingo. My poor little ninth grader!” Mrs. Park pantomimed fainting. Jimin smacked his forehead. From across the table, Hoseok was laughing. Jimin growled and-when no one was looking-flicked him off. Hoseok stopped laughing immediately and narrowed his eyes. Jimin pretended not to notice, but secretly enjoyed the thrill. It made him feel defiant, righteous almost. Seokjin turned to his mother and asked her whether she’s ‘green tea and ginger’ or ‘straight’.

“Oh of course green tea and ginger! Never mind those stuffed shirts that pride themselves on drinking anything straight! Flavor is key, flavor is key.” Seokjin nodded knowingly with her, but their father turned from his own conversation to theirs to disagree.

“Oh please, by ‘stuffed shirts’ you mean me! Stop trying to talk bad about me in front of other people. No one cares about how a person likes their tea.” Seokjin gasped as if he had just been slapped.

“It’s blasphemy! Blasphemy!” He cried dramatically. Mrs. Park nodded knowingly.

“This is what I have to deal with every morning. ‘Honey! No, I like it plain, plain green tea, just plain. Don’t put this crap in here!’ Yosh. Truly I am cursed.” Seokjin patted her back.

“I understand you perfectly. I make gejang for that one every now and then, and he dares to tell me to go ‘easy on the soy sauce’. What kind of korean tells you to go easy on anything in gejang!” Mrs. Park looked to Namjoon with horror. He only shrugged his shoulders.

“I can’t help it if I have a distinct lack of want for salty foods.” Seokjin rolled his eyes.

“He might as well be American. They have zero tolerance for anything fermented, salty, or spicy.” Seokjin said. Jeongguk scoffed.

“I know like, four different americans, and each one of them only eats things that are either fermented, covered in sodium, or smothered in spice.” Taehyung rolled his eyes.

“Ohhh, look at Jeongguk. He knows four americans and all the sudden is an expert on America. Are you proud of yourself?” Jeongguk responded by pinching him, hard. Taehyung cried out and swatted at him. The rest of the group laughed it off and continued their individual conversations. Jimin would add in his own additions every now and then, but he remained silent for most of it. He was waiting for the bomb to drop. Someone would bring it up, the reason he was here, the reason they were all here, Jimin’s plans for the future, etc. Jimin was both dreading it and looking forward to it. Dreading because he didn’t know how his parents would react. Looking forward to it because he was hoping his intuition would be wrong.

“So Seokjin sweetie, since you’re so educated on the culinary arts, am I to assume you are a chef of some kind?” Seokjin laughed lightly and smiled at her.

“As flattered as I am to hear that, I really just love food. There’s no reason for it. I love to make it, eat it, and serve it.” Mrs. Park seemed to glow from the inside. Imagine that, a man that loved to cook.

“Oh but Mr. Min here seems to be so adept with business marketing. Surely my Jimin can learn a thing or two from you. You’re to be a communications major, am I right?” Yoongi scoffed and ate another piece of food before answering.

“I guess I must know a thing or two for you to give me that impression, but I don’t attend a university.” Mr. Park’s eyebrows raised highly. Jimin’s brother turned to Namjoon and gave him a questioning glance.

“Then am I to assume that you aren’t some political science major or physics major?” Namjoon nodded.

“In that, you would be correct.” The family members exchanged confused gla