The smell of freshmens, and party junks, weeds truck driver, and all those stuffs weren’t a bother anymore. It was his fourth year of living a life as an art student in college.

Usually when you ask somebody in college why they are there, they'll tell you it's to get an education. The truth of it is, they are there to get the degree so that they can get ahead in the rat race. Too many college radicals are two-timing punks. The only reason you should be in college is to destroy it. Abbie Hoffman. Yoongi read these lines from one of the books he borrowed a few weeks ago. But the truth of all is, college is boring, Yoongi’s life was.

He missed two years of college to go working (at the local cafe, at the local McD− as a krabby patty mascott), but two years wasted. His parents threw him off the family tree. You, get back when you have a degree and a steady job! His mother has never been a nuisance since he said he wanted to be a musician.

As the first year at college drew to a close end, he finished on the plus side with a bunch of friends, if he could even call them that. There was Hoseok- Hoseok was an okay guy. An easily excitable guy who was really good at getting him in trouble for talking in class, but an okay guy. And he got Seokjin and Himchan. Himchan complains a lot. He never really talked to Himchan, but it had always ended up with him- Seokjin- at the end of the party. And the next morning they would find Hoseok lying on a pool board or in someone’s toilet with his socks inside his mouth. It was until Himchan asked Yoongi to work on a local coffee shop as a barista. Himchan faded away from his circle of friendship. Hoseok said it’s because a guy named Yongguk, or whoever it was, Yoongi didn’t give a single to it.

This was the twenty sixth party he went to, yes, Yoongi counted. Seokjin asked him whether he want another drink or not because he’ll end his day, I’m not feeling well. Yoongi told him to go off before him. And he continued yanking his high into the party.

Crash, crash, crash.

The sound of broken glass came from a corner of the party room. A voice shouted louder and the crowd disheveled. Yoongi stumbled on his feet and fell off from his place. A hand grabbed his arms, “It’s Namjoon again. Everyone should leave.”

The guy seems to know what was going on around, as well as what had gone on prior to the other guy arrival.

Yoongi got up, “I still don’t follow what's happening, I'm sor-”

The shorter one of the two took in a very deep breath and let it out before leaning close.  “Namjoon won the bet. UEE's in the play very well, and.. yeah, of course he ed up their relationship.”

The other one added,  "The fake relationship. It's all money, man. College is all money and weeds."

Yoongi didn’t want to get into the trouble. So he stumbled out of the crowd to the exit door. Just when he got outside, Yoongi felt like . He wanted to throw up right there, and so he did. The door opened, a blonde guy whom everyone address as Namjoon took out his cigarette. He could barely hear the blonde guy mumbling something. Something like dumb chick or something- Yoongi wiped his mouth and left the place.

The sun peeked through the curtain. Yoongi swore the seconds he opened his eyes. He swore loudly when the sound of of his apartement’s doorbells rings repetitively. . He got up from his bed and glanced at the clock. 11.00 AM.

It was the irony of Yoongi’s life to get up at such time. It was either he’s lucky to be awoken, or his loss of his precious amount of sleep. Yoongi put on his shirt and walked to the door. He didn’t even need to peek through, he knew who it is.

“-TARD! TARD GET THE UP WE HAVE IMPORANT MEETING TO ATTEND TODAY! WE’RE LA-“

“Shut up, Hoseok.”

“What? It’s 11 am, sleepy old hag. We have a meeting with Professor Kwon this.. right now—no , we’re 10 minutes late— WE ARE DEAD, YOON-“

Slams. The door slammed shut off Hoseok’s face. Yoongi walked back to his bed.

Right, but he was sitting on a black swivel chair at the long table in Professor Kwon’s newspaper office. It was just after 11.37 on Monday, and the meeting had just started.

“I don’t accept lazy boozer but this time, it’s urgent. How about your classes, Mr. Min Yoongi? Have fun enough to ditch almost all of your classes? Mrs. Min called me a week ago that she put her trust on me,” Professor Kwon took a white letter with a red stampled over it from her desk, “and on you.”

Yoongi switched his sight to the white letter, “What’s this?”

“Your dead end.”

Yoongi almost gaped until she continued, “Unless you will listen to me.”

Professor Kwon took yet another letter from her desk. This time it’s brown stampled and followed by two duplicated keys. Her gaze shifted from an all-smiley-superior face to a there-is-no-other-way killer face. The atmosphere surrounding the room also shifts to give Yoongi a little bit of chills. Professor Kwon is well-known by two things; her beauty and her Chucky game. Seokjin has went through this once, as Yoongi remembered.

“Pardon?” Yoongi asked, acted as if he doesn’t know where this is going. Though, he really didn’t know that time.

“Your mother has made something like a declaration with me through a call from a week ago. You will be directed with me from now on. But fortunately, I don’t fit the shoes, as I’m busy with my classes too. So here, you will need someone to finish your years of college. I have grown tired of you too, young man, we’re in the same boat. Take this.”

Yoongi was sure he get what she meant by getting directed. But these keys?

“But these keys?”

“The first key is a key to your dorm room. You will be moved to our university’s dorm from now on. There will be no trashy party and weeds. Once your classes all done, you will go straight to your dorm to do your music sheet and essays.”

Yoongi gaped, his jaw almost fell from its place.

She continued with a smirk growing on her face, “The other key is a key to your own personal studio room we have in building #58. I may be a prick, but I have promised your mother to make you graduate with a real degree.”

parties and weeds. He didn’t need all of those garbages. All he needed all this time is a studio room to make music. His own studio room. He got up and took Professor Kwon’s hands to shake.

“Thank you. Thank you, Mrs. Kwon,” he said and took the keys and the letter. Just when he was about to leave, he turned his back and asked once again, “and this letter?”

The killer lady sighed and smiled sincerely.

“Inside that, there are ten music sheets to fill in. You’ll be having your last years to make music. Acceptable ones.”

Yoongi grins widely and left the room excitedly to meet Hoseok leaning next to the door.

“That quick? Don’t tell me you two e-“

“I won the game.”

“What game? This is gonna be huge, Yoongi. Spill it.”

“Quit those ty thoughts, horseface. I won the game, I own a studio room. Now, step off my way. I should thank my parents too by the way.”

Yoongi left Hoseok in confuse before it’s Hoseok’s turn to have a meeting with Professor Kwon. Hoseok gritted his teeth when he is greeted with a killer smile by a lady welcoming him to sit on a black swivel chair.

“Mrs. Kwon,” he smiled nervously. He was sure there is enough amount of sweats running down his forehead and filling his palms.

“Have fun enough failing all the classes, Mr. Jung Hoseok?”

.

Yoongi made sure he didn’t miss the number of the building. Building #58.

Yoongi was too hyped up to just walk casually to the building. He found the door.

“Ah, this is it-“ he put in the key to find out that the room is not locked. He frowned and took the door knob. It’s not locked. And he slowly opened the door.

There, his gaze fell to a guy with long eyelashes. Brunette with a little purple highlight, moist lips, and owl eyes. The guy with dark green jacket and white shirt looked back at Yoongi, and they blinked. Yoongi was not confused though because he either thought that it might be: he came into a wrong room or the other guy must have something to do with his own personal studio room. Yoongi’s own personal studio room.

“Do you need something?” the guy with long eyelashes asked.

“Uhm—“ Yoongi coughed.

“I say, do you need something? Cause you can’t barge in to someone’s studio room like that,” the guy repeated.

Yoongi was startled by the other guy’s smug attitude.

“This,” Yoongi stepped in, “is my personal studio room. This is my personal studio room. Professor Kwon gave me the key.” Yoongi showed him the key.

The other guy didn’t even flinch. And he asked in repeat, “Do you need something,” he took two steps in front of Yoongi, “from MY studio room?”

The atmosphere was tense. Both of them knew that something is off from the road. And Yoongi was sure that this will be the lead of a new problem in his college life. Yoongi’s gaze shifted to a monitor with words written as its screensaver,

Jungkook’s PC! was spinning as the screensaver.