A little bit on Kim Seokjin now, hope you enjoy!

Life was so much easier back then. Back then, Seokjin had faint, healing lines on his wrists and wore a pair of thick, circular black-rimmed glasses that sat uncomfortably on the bridge of his nose while Yoongi had silky raven hair and a favourite pair of red basketball shoes and was in the process of convincing his strict father into letting him dye his locks.

The pair were under a tree at the neighbourhood playground -as they often were- just enjoying the cool shade of the leaves and the white noise of children's chatter next to them. Yoongi would be scribbling rhymes in a black notebook while Seokjin would be laying down next to him with his glasses sitting on his chest and his hands reaching out for the golden streamers of sunshine that peaked through the leaves. Just another Saturday afternoon.

“Seokjin,” Yoongi muttered one afternoon,” Seokjin, don’t move until I say so.”

Said boy frowned considerably and glanced at Yoongi worriedly with fear lingering on his spine.

“What’s wrong?” Seokjin murmured back.

“There’s some guy in a tux staring at us from the other side of the playground,” Yoongi told him. Amazingly, his lips barely moved as he said this.

“Shoot, we should definitely leave,” Seokjin replied him softly.

“Excuse me.”

The two glance up to see said man standing over them, his eyes were shieded by dark sunglasses and his lips are pressed into a strict line with his tux obviously pressed and steamed to perfection and his shoes glistened with a perfect shine.

Seokjin hurries to stand up, pulling Yoongi up with him. The shorter boy’s notebook topples to the ground with a soft smack and the boy doesn’t hesitate to snatch it up from the ground before the tuxedo man even finishes bending over to help pick it up.

“Sorry to disturb you two,” tuxedo man says in a low, monotonous voice,” But I couldn’t help but notice you two from a distance.”

“That’s not creepy, at all!” Yoongi snarls sarcastically. Seokjin chokes on his spit and smacks the younger’s shoulder before forcing him into a 90-degree bow while apologizing incessantly. Seokjin hears the man hum unamused and he sees Yoongi straighten up next to him through the corner of his eye before doing the same, his cheeks red with embarrassment.

“I’ll cut straight to the chase,” the man says almost boredly,” I’m Mr Won, a talent scout working at BigHit Modelling Inc. and I just so happen to have seen the two of you across the playground and I just wanted to give the both of you my card in case the two of you were interested.”

The man passes the two of them a business card- all pristine and professional made of shimmery cardboard and sharp edges- and walks away after a stiff bow.

Seokjin can’t help but stare after the man, still stunned into silence at the shock of having just been street casted for a modelling agency. A modelling agency. Damn.

He hears a sharp rip next to him and sure enough, Yoongi is holding two halves of his card in each hand, his lips pursed with contempt and his expression uncaring.

“Well that was a waste of my time,” he sighs as he sprawls himself over the grass again, blowing his raven hair out of his eyes.

“Shouldn’t you at least try, Min Yoongi,” Seokjin teases as he plops himself down next to his best friend,” Who knows, maybe we’ll find ourselves rich in a few years thanks to this.”

Yoongi hums carelessly next to him, his voice low and sure as he tells Seokjin,” Everyone knows the industry is a dark void. Besides, modelling isn’t for me. But if you want to test it out, go ahead, I’ll still stand by you.”

And that was the end of their conversation.

Seokjin winces at the firm fingers prodding his scalp as they tug and twist the strands of his hair painfully. He tries to hold in his grunts of pain as Bom roughly pulls out the hair clips in his hair and ruffles his mane in full concentration. Currently, he smells of a mixture of argan oil and scented hair spray despite having spritzed his skin with the scent of fresh flowers- such a waste of expensive perfume.

“Don't touch your hair,” Bom says,” I'll kill you if you do.”

“Okay,” Seokjin coughs out as she gives his hair one long spray of L’Oreal’s firm hold hairspray. She spins his chair around and fixes the stray locks before scrutinising his makeup. She lets out a long sigh and says,” I swear, if you weren't so pretty I’d be flipping the table over how horribly they did your eyeliner.”

“Bommie, it’s fine,” Seokjin laughs reassuringly,” And this table is attached to the wall, I don't think you’d be able to flip it over so easily.”

“There are other tables I can flip,” she scoffs,” And seriously- you’re being too kind!”

Seokjin just smiles up at her as she removes the black cape from his shoulders and pulls him up, adjusting the jacket and bracelets he donned on his wrists.

“Good to go,” she nods approvingly,” Set. Now.”

It's pretty much the same routine everyday for him. Put on the expensive clothes he can't even keep, do his hair and makeup, a small lecture from Bom, pose a bit, change out and then off to his next schedule or go home.

He stands in front of a plain white backdrop and greets the photographer who , apparently, is a very big deal in L.A.

“Hello, I am Jin,” he greets with the minimal English he knows. His manager had instructed him beforehand to introduce himself as ‘Jin’ which -is apparently- what he will be known as professionally.

The photographer- of whom Seokjin couldn't be bothered to learn the name of -smiles and whispers a few words to the translator who just nods and turns to Seokjin saying,” He says that it's nice to meet you and that you will be starting now.”

Seokjin doesn't miss the lustful twinkle in the photographer’s nor the slight jutt in his leather pants. He also doesn't miss how Mr Photographer is raking his eyes over his whole body, his gaze just leering on every inch of skin he could see from Seokjin.

Seokjin wants to slap him in the face, tell him to off and punch him in his for thinkings it’s okay to look at him like that in a workplace but alas, for the sake of professionalism, Seokjin offers a tight smile and nods, watching another small exchange between the translator and the photographer.

“He wants you to be a blank but y, sultry,” the translator tells him.

Seokjin holds back a groan at her words, he hates y photoshoots, he'd much rather have a colourful and laid back sort of editorials but, as a professional, he's forced to oblige.

Seokjin gives the photographer another tight smile and begins. He parts his lips, curls his fingers at his neck, bites his lip, pouts, lowers his gaze, drops his hands on his thighs, whatever poses he could do to just end the stupid photoshoot already.

“Good, good,” the photographer praises (more like moans) between the load clicks and bright flashes of the camera.

Seokjin just rolls his neck around and angles his head a little bit, giving the camera a sultry glare while allowing his tongue to pole out just a bit before the photographer puts down his camera and says happily,” That’s a wrap!”

Suddenly, Bom is draping a blanket over his shoulders and rushing him back to the dressing room, locking the door behind them. Seokjin plops down tiredly on the sofa and lets out a shaky breath, shuddering in the process.

“Did you see the looks he was giving you?!” Bom rants,” He was freaking stripping you with his eyes!”

“Like I wouldn't notice,” Seokjin sighs tiredly as he reaches for the cotton pads and makeup remover,” The shoot was so uncomfortable, I just wanted to die.”

He squeezes out a good amount of makeup remover onto the cotton pad and begins to scrub it on his face, pretending to rub off all the dirt that had been smeared onto his skin by the lewd looks the photographer was giving him.

It was true that it was his job to pose, smile for the camera and give a wink or two; but that didn't mean that he wanted to be turned into a ual objects for some ert’s masterbaution sessions. He just wants to be respected as most people are.

He feels Bom rest a comforting hand on his shoulder along with a tight but reassuring squeeze.

“Jinnie you have to stand up for yourself,” Bom instructs firmly,” You deserve to be treated with respect, not like some doll at an auction.”

Seokjin recognises this as an opening for a lecture and immediately places a gentle hand on the one on his shoulder and pressed his lips into a weak smile.

“Bom-” he begins.

“Seokjin, no,” Bom interrupts,” I’m sick of seeing you squirming around in your workplace because some thirsty- was too despo to keep it in their pants.”

“Bom I know,” Seokjin says calmly,” But it's too late for me to back out. And besides, without the uncomfortable looks and photoshoots, I actually kind of like modelling.”

“You can't go on like this,” Bom tries,” This- it’s not healthy, being used to ual harassment is not healthy!”

“But I have no choice!” he snaps.

“Bom, do you think I like people screaming comments about my on the streets because of some magazine cover I posed for?! Being told how much people would love, love, love to me senseless?! Being stared at like some trophy up for grabs?!” Seokjin cries,” Because I don't, okay?! It's !”

“Then why do you keep doing this?! What would he say, huh? What do you think Yoon-”

“But I need to!” Seokjin shouts. He’s aware of the desperation and sorrow in his voice, how his voice falters and breaks in the quiet air. He misses him; he misses his best friend’s cynical mouth and constantly dyed hair and killer creativity and all aspects of his being. So just for a moment, he wanted to pretend that Bom was him; that those jabs were tumbling out of his mouth. But then he has to remind himself that he isn't here. He hasn't been for three full days. And yet Seokjin’s soul still screams for release so he continues with,” He’s been missing for three days now and I can’t stand how empty that stupid flower shop is.”

“Jungkook isn’t talking, Namjoon isn't leaving his damn room and I’m out here trying to hold us together while that stupid idiot's still missing and I’m so tired of having to be the level-headed one when I’m really the most broken one. The closest thing I have to something that doesn’t remind me of the stupid bastard is this ing job and I just hate- I just hate, I just hate how- how-”

He stops and the world freezes. All he hears is his heart hammering in his chest and all he feels is static crawling all over his body. He feels hot tears leaving cold trails down his cheeks and onto his jaw, chin and lips and he doesn't remember how or when he got up from the sofa but now that he realizes this his head is beginning to spin and his chest is starting to ache, all he can see is a blurred mesh of colour and then suddenly his whole being snaps and he’s unaware of his surroundings all he wants to get away to escape to feel to love to be free from this hell and his chest burns his arms ache his legs are failing him everyone is failing him and then, and then, what happened then?

“Jinnie.”

“Jin?”

“Seokjin.”

“Seokjin?”

“Seokjin!”

“Seokjin!”

He jumps at the sound and almost drops his phone from shock. His fingers fumble and he can hear his friend’s cackle from the phone’s speaker and Seokjin can’t help but roll his eyes at this. He quickly holds his phone back up to his ear just to hear another string of laughter.

“You can stop now, Yoongi,” Seokjin says with feigned boredom. He can imagine Yoongi wiping off a tear from the corner if his eyes with a not so subtle grin.

“Okay, okay,” he sighs,” So how was your first photoshoot?”

“It was awesome!” Seokjin laughs,” There were lights and a set and a photographer and everything!”

He hears Yoongi’s deep chuckle on the other line and the familiar tinkling of a bell in the background. He hears a loud greeting come from familiar voice and soon, Jungkook is shouting a very loud,” Congrats on the photoshoot, Jinnie!” through the speakers of Seokjin’s phone as well as a howl of laughter from a certain pink-haired individual called Min Yoongi.

“Thanks, Kookie,” Seokjin laughs,” Say, is Namjoon there with you?”

“Nope, it’s just me and Jungkook at the flower shop right now,” Yoongi says,” But he’s coming for dinner tonight, though.”

“So make him a big, steaming pot of your hot and y love!” comes Jungkook’s obnoxious comment. Seokjin gasps in mock betrayal when he hears Yoongi gasping for air on the other line and Jungkook chuckling along with him.

“Oi! Is that the way you should be speaking to your elder?” Seokjin chides jokingly,” I refuse to feed you two if you continue behaving this way!”

“Got it, mom,” Jungkook teases,” See you at dinner!”

“Cook lots of jjajangmyeon, okay?” Yoongi pleads,” See ya!”

“Bye, you rascals. And remind Namjoon that dinner starts at 7.30, thanks!” Seokjin bids fondly before ending the call.

His bright smile remains throughout the course of the evening; when Jungkook and Namjoon are arguing over the proportions of their food and when Yoongi tries to steal a piece of meat out of Jungkook’s bowl and even when Namjoon spills his glass of lemonade on the new table cloth. It was just one of those moments where Seokjin reminds himself that he’s finally found happiness in a new family, and that it was a kind of happiness that he wouldn’t trade out for anything else in the world.