✌PROOFREAD - The Body Swap (by hopefool)
✔✔TRAVERSE SHOP - REVIEW & PROOFREAD✔✔STORY INFO
Author: hopefool
Genre(s): Angst, Friendship, Family
Story Status: Ongoing
No. of Chapters: 9
Green texts mean correction.
NOTE TO THE AUTHOR: Ellipsis (...) do not have spaces in-between them :)
WARNING: If you are not the author of the story and you want to read it, a link is given above. Do not read the story here.
CHAPTER 1
THE neon green numbers that blinked on his digital alarm clock let him know that it was already 6 in the morning. Jimin’s tired eyes shut, a sigh escaping his chapped lips. He swallowed the lump that formed in his throat and took a deep breath, but it wasn’t enough to get rid of the horrid, nasty feeling that swam in the pit of his stomach. His chest tightened as he took another long, ragged breath.
Jimin dropped his pen onto the notebook in which he’d been attempting to list down all the stuff that he was supposed to do today. It was a daily habit, but today he couldn’t function at his best. It was the significance of today that made him so frail, so weak, so timid. He opened his eyes that were then filled with tears, much to his dismay. Without a warning, he was attacked by a train of memories that he really didn’t want to think of.
His warm, assuring smile.
Her beautiful, hearty laugh.
His comforting, supportive embrace.
The lack of their presence brought Jimin so much pain. Too much pain, in fact. He could fall off a cliff onto barbed wire or a fatal y trap, but the pain still wouldn’t come close to the emotion that was wrapping itself around his heart. Flashing images of them in his mind haunted him, almost made him want to drop to his knees. He buried his face in his hands as he held back from sobbing like a baby.
“Oh my God... Please, give me strength… Please…” he begged softly. He was pleading from the bottom of his shattered heart. Praying to be given at least an ounce of strength, at least enough for him to get through and be done with the day.
He failed to keep his sadness within him and tears began pouring down his cheeks. He clamped his hand over his mouth, but a few sobs still came out audibly. He couldn’t help but cry. Cry at his huge loss, cry at his hopeless self, cry at his pathetic life.
Pathetic. So, so pathetic.
The silent atmosphere wasn’t doing much comforting. It was so quiet until Jimin could nearly hear the sound of his own heart beating. There were the staccato ticks of the old grandfather clock a few steps away from where he sat, and also the distant noise of a car starting up. Nothing else. Silence was his only company.
Somehow, Jimin managed to get a grip of himself and stopped crying. Or wailing, more like it. With trembling fingers, he continued jotting down his agendas for the day, thinking that it’d distract him from the taunting pieces of joyful memories that were stabbing his heart. Though at his worst, his handwriting remained neat and tidy, showing off his trait that prioritized cleanliness. It was ironic how his apartment, a 20-year-old apartment that probably had housed over 200 different residents at different periods of times, reeked of anything but cleanliness.
Well, it wasn’t like he had a choice.
Interrupting his ‘meditation’ session, came a loud series of playfully patterned knocking on his door. Jimin looked up from his notebook and closed it, standing up slowly. Another few knocks came, this time along with a husky voice that radiated joy and carefreeness; a voice that Jimin would recognise even if someday he turned deaf.
“Open up, Snow White! It’s your faaaaavourite Prince!”
Oddly, a small smile curved on Jimin’s clearly exhausted face. He made his way to the door without the slightest of resentment or worry. Just by hearing that voice, a wave of relaxation and peace washed over him, hugging him loosely, comfortably.
The moment he opened the door, he was hugged again, this time by a physical form that was much bigger than his own smaller form. Jimin was surprised, needless to say, but the shock was pleasant and soothed his previously shaken up heart.
Taehyung pulled away whilst wearing a bright, loving smile. He ruffled Jimin’s already messy hair and chirped, “Good morning!”
“What on earth are you doing here so early, Tae?” Jimin chuckled.
Taehyung was Jimin’s best friend for a couple of years; his best friend that eventually became the sole reason he was able to stay strong through every passing day. Jimin thought of Taehyung as a blessing, someone who was there for him at both his best and his worst, someone who didn’t judge him and cared for him sincerely, someone who made him feel important and needed. People said that a friend is someone who picks you up when you’re down, but in their case, Taehyung wouldn’t even let Jimin fall.
Protector. Saviour. Two words among many more to state Taehyung’s place in Jimin’s life besides being his friend.
Interesting to note how they got along so well despite their clashing personalities. Of course, there was the occasional argument every now and then, but none of their fights lasted over 2 hours. Clashing personalities, they may have been, but they also completed each other as well.
Taehyung was Jimin’s total opposite. The former was a ray of sunshine, a ball of joy—he was loud, energetic and wasn’t afraid to speak up. Eccentric, in a way, too. He was the son of one of the richest men in Seoul, usually dominated the first place during examinations and didn’t seem to have a care in the world. While Taehyung beamed sunrays, Jimin beamed rays of despair. He was that ‘emo kid’ and ‘creepy nerd’ who barely talked to anyone else. Never without a book in his hands, a top scorer in math but was horrible at history and well, cared way too much about the little things. All those small, seemingly pointless things were the ones that brought most impact on him. Let’s not get to the topic of money, shall we?
Thank God. Thank God that Taehyung came into his life, thank God they were paired up during high school orientation. Jimin wouldn’t, couldn’t imagine how his life would go without the sweetheart named Kim Taehyung. Actually... scratch that. Maybe Jimin wouldn’t even have a life if he didn’t have Taehyung.
“—ey, hey, are you listening?” Taehyung poked Jimin’s tummy to catch his attention. He used his other hand to toss away his dirty school shoes and one of them landed on one of Jimin’s extremely clean school shoes. Fortunately, the apartment’s actual resident didn’t notice.
Jimin snapped out of his thoughts and offered a sheepish grin. “Sorry, bro. Got distracted. What were you saying?”
“I was explaining myself; I came here this early to give you a little nice surprise! Besides, I woke up earlier than normal and got bored of waiting.” Taehyung shrugged.
Jimin’s grin turned lopsided. “Right. C’mon, you can tell me the real reason.”
“Real reason?” Taehyung raised both eyebrows. His colourful expression notably faded, his happy smile turning into a sad one. “I just don’t want you to be alone... It’s an important day, I don’t want you alone. I’m scared to leave you alone. You know I still need you.”
“I know.” Jimin replied softly, refraining himself from adding ‘I need you more’.
Taehyung stared at Jimin for a few seconds before gently touching the latter’s cheek. “Looks like I came on time, huh? Your eyes are swollen. Oh, your face is red, too.”
“Really?” Jimin groaned. He pressed his palms against his eyes, believing it would somehow help to hide the hints that he’d been crying.
“That’s all you did, right? You didn’t do anything else… right?” Taehyung questioned with concern. He surely didn’t want a repetition of last year’s incident—goodness, it hurt him just remembering it.
“No, don’t worry. I’m only gonna bawl and mourn and grieve, I promise. I’ll control myself.”
“Good.”
No words were exchanged any further. No words were needed. The two friends simply shared an understanding glance as Taehyung gave Jimin a gentle pat on the back and squeezed his shoulder softly. As an attempt to lighten the environment up, Taehyung jumped on the couch like a little kid with a high-pitch shriek and all of a sudden calmly laid down, his hands supporting the back of his head. See? Eccentric.
“Now go take a shower and get ready. If we leave early, we can grab drinks—coffee for you, soda for me, obviously—before going to school.” Taehyung said casually.
“Keep up that bad habit of drinking soda in the morning and I’ll have to donate one of my kidneys to you at some point,” Jimin mumbled. “Anyways, how’re we getting to school? Uncle Song isn’t waiting outside, is he?”
“Chill, he’s not. I told him we’ll commute today. Then we can stop by that cafè, what do you call it… The Min’s? Yeah, before we continue treading our path towards the most beautiful place on this planet.” Taehyung snorted.
“I really don’t want to go to school, man.” Jimin complained.
“You have to! We’ve got a poem recitation for literature today, and I need you to mouth the words for me because I kinda, sorta forgot to memorize my poem.” Taehyung said.
Jimin rolled his eyes. “As always.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Hurry and shower! You’re starting to stink.” Taehyung teased.
Jimin lightly smacked Taehyung’s shoulder and headed off in the direction of the bathroom. As he closed the bathroom door, he paused, slowly resting his forehead against it. He then looked up and a painful smile formed. Tears had once again pooled in his eyes, but rather than out of pain, this time they were out of gratitude.
Thank you… thank you so much for giving me Taehyung, Jimin thought. From his best friend’s mere presence, there was a newfound hope blossoming in his patched up heart. He knew that he could stay strong throughout today, this torturous and tormenting day, as long as Taehyung stayed by his side. He was going to be okay. He really was.
Except there was something unbeknownst to Jimin. Not known by Taehyung either. It wouldn’t be known by anyone, in fact. Because this something was indeed something only fate could have seen coming. In fate had been written for another boy, someone who was quite close to Jimin, to well, turn things upside down. In fate had been written for another boy, who went by the given name of Kim Namjoon, to unknowingly change both their lives forever.
CHAPTER 2
HIS eyebrows arched as he looked at the morning sky that was slowly turning dark blue. His fists clenched and unclenched, teeth grinding. Furiously, he ripped his helmet off his head, tossing it aside like a piece of rubbish. It bounced and hit a nearby trashcan, shocking the flock of pigeons that were perched on the wire above him, making them fly away in fear.
Namjoon screamed. In the isolated alley between two abandoned office buildings, somewhere deep in the city of Seoul where nobody could’ve heard him, he screamed to his heart’s desire, he used his manly deep voice to its maximum, he let his throat become scratchy from shouting. Even if someone heard him, he didn’t care and couldn’t care.
“ you!” he yelled, kicking the previously mentioned trashcan, leaving an obvious dent in the middle.
His foot throbbed, but Namjoon hadn’t noticed. He was too busy projecting the image of a certain man onto the wall. A certain man that burned Namjoon’s heart with anger, a certain man who Namjoon despised with all that he had.
“‘Dad’ my !” he glared at the wall that had now developed entirely into that man he hated so much; that man he unwillingly called his father. His eyes were bloodshot and teary from the lack of sleep and the amount of unnecessary shouting he had done.
“Why the did I have to be born into this family? Why?” Namjoon asked no one. Nobody could’ve given him an answer anyways, it was just fate. Playful, naughty fate.
*There are no grammatical errors up to this point.
***
By the last period before lunchtime, students were on the edge of their seats. Their minds were elsewhere instead of the lesson taking place. They couldn’t wait to get out of their stuffy classrooms and not have to listen to boring lectures that they weren’t going to understand anyways. So, they all thought, why bother?
The dull weather added to their laziness; it was raining, the atmosphere was cold, just who would be in the mood to learn? The rowdy boys of Hani High were just excited to go home and enjoy the weekend. It was Friday, the final day of torture and hell on earth. Though they still had mountains of homework to do plus a lot of studying to be done, at least they were free from school’s prison.
Most of the classes’ students at least faked paying attention for the sake of giving their teachers well-earned respect. However, the supposed ‘best class’ in terms of academics of Hani High puts on a completely opposing attitude.
They didn’t give a damn about their teachers. If they didn’t like the lesson or the teacher itself, they sure as hell showed it. Clearly.
Mr. Jo, a young history teacher, stood frozen behind the podium as he continued babbling on about some war. Needless to say, he felt like . Out of the 40 students he was supposed to educate, 39 of them were doing anything but pay attention. They could at least shut up and let him talk to himself but nope, even that was too much to do for them. The classroom was almost a circus.
Brats. Spoilt, notorious, selfish brats.
And among them all, there was the King. The King of the s, the King of the Jerks, the King of All Things Mean—cute nicknames given by the nerds and geeks terrorized by this King. This King, who people were sure had to be the spawn of Satan, was none other than the school’s top scorer and fellow son of the rich, Kim Namjoon. People (not just students, teachers had their gossip as well) would bet that if he wasn’t so smart and hadn’t come from a wealthy family, he would definitely end up a criminal, or the leader of some evil organization, or maybe even a psychopath.
Namjoon was irritated when he inevitably woke up from his nap. He didn’t mean to wake up early, but his stupid body decided against. There were still 10 minutes left for lunch and he couldn’t wait any longer; he was cranky, tired and bored. There was nothing for him to do… of course, he could listen to Mr. Jo’s lecture, but obviously he wouldn’t. There was no fun in that.
He stretched his body and leaned back in his chair, finding entertainment in watching his classmates’ different behaviours that ranged from plain to strange.
He saw that the school’s pretty boy Taehyun was doodling in his notebook while his deskmate, Seungyoon, was looking upwards, presumably counting the ceiling tiles. Jongin and Sehun in the middle column of seats were laughing about something and didn’t make an effort to be a little quieter. Nearby, Jackson and Jinyoung were playing rock-paper-scissors for God knew what. Jaebum behind them was attempting to braid Jinyoung’s hair. Jeongmin was singing a children’s song. Kangjun was rearranging the inside of his desk. Daniel was staring out and tapping the window. The class really was made up of the best students, wasn’t it?
Ilhoon, Namjoon’s deskmate, was snoring and drooling right beside him. Namjoon felt the urge to grab a marker and draw inappropriate things on his face, but he was too lazy to even move his hand. So his gaze continued to travel, until it landed on the person that sat alone all the way across the classroom. That person was the only one trying to listen to Mr. Jo through the noise. There were 40 devils in this class, but one angel lost his way. Just looking at him, Namjoon’s emotionless expression visibly tightened.
Having the unpleasant feeling of someone staring at him, Jung Hoseok slowly turned his head to his right. Two pairs of eyes met and both boys tensed, Hoseok flinching a little out of surprise when he saw that it was Namjoon’s dark stare burning into his presence. Namjoon arrogantly cocked one eyebrow as if to mock Hoseok, making the latter huff and quickly turn away, breaking off their ever so friendly contact.
“Wimp.” Namjoon muttered under his breath.
Class dragged on and on, Namjoon nearly died of boredom. He busied himself with writing a poem on his phone, completely absorbed in his art. The world became a mere blur to him… until the bell rang, that was. Instantly, all the boys of Class 3-A excluding two scrambled out of the room, none of them bowing or thanking poor Mr. Jo like they should have. Not even a grateful smile.
Up came Hoseok after pushing his chair under his desk, bowing politely and saying his thanks with a warm smile to Mr. Jo.
“Thank you.” the exhausted teacher breathed. He gave Hoseok’s shoulder a soft pat before rushing out of the classroom; he desperately needed painkillers for the headache he had gotten. Hopefully there were painkillers for extreme stress too.
Hoseok didn’t realise he wasn’t alone. He swiftly turned around to head back to his desk to grab his math homework he hadn’t finished only to bump into the last person on this planet that he’d like to see. If he had to choose between bumping into a ghost or this guy, he’d choose the ghost—and his fear of the unknown was at a ridiculous level.
Namjoon rolled his eyes in irritation. “Your eyes on your knees now, teacher’s pet?”
“Oh, off.” Hoseok replied, almost hissing in annoyance.
Screw his homework. Hoseok didn’t want to spend another second with Namjoon; he left the class as quickly as his feet could take him. He didn’t know where he was going, but it was definitely not the cafeteria, he couldn’t risk another encounter with that again.
And to think that Namjoon once meant the universe to him.
An unwanted flash of rotten memories shocked him, causing him to lose his balance and bump into someone again. Hoseok mentally smacked his own head. Fortunately, though, it wasn’t Namjoon. It was a junior from his arts club.
Thank God.
“I-I’m… I’m so sorry.” Hoseok blurted out a hasty apology and walked off. He needed to clear his head, or else he’d burst.
“It’s okay?” Jimin didn’t have the chance to say. He didn’t mind much, but then he noticed the way Taehyung continued watching Hoseok walk away. There was something in the way Taehyung watched Hoseok, something sad, something that strongly reflected regret.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Taehyung replied blankly without hesitation. However, that glum expression was wiped off in the blink of an eye, replaced with Taehyung’s typical sunshine look. “Hey, I heard that there’s fried chicken today! What a blessing, right?”
Jimin knew Taehyung was changing the subject on purpose. Yet, he didn’t question it and just played along instead. Strange, Taehyung had a very strange, secretive side.
Jimin could only hope that someday he’d be able to unravel those buried secrets.
CHAPTER 3
WHETHER lunch time was a ‘yay’ or a ‘nay’, Jimin hadn’t fully decided. It was a ‘yay’ because he’d finally spend time with Taehyung, who unfortunately was in a different class, but it was also a ‘nay’ because he’d finally encounter that bastard as well. Each and every day, the moment the bell rang, Jimin would silently pray for him to not bump into the guy—however, his prayers were yet to be answered.
Today, Jimin desperately needed to stay away from ‘that guy’. It was an extremely meaningful day for him and didn’t need ‘that guy’ to screw it up. God knew what would happen if Jimin was to make a friendly encounter with him.
Jimin leaned against the wall on his side. He was currently at the front of the line and was holding everything in him to not snap at the kids playing roughly behind him. He looked down at his shoes and closed his eyes, trying to expel the noise that was starting to suffocate him. There was no such thing as silence in a cafeteria full of hungry teen boys. At the moment, silence was all Jimin craved for. He couldn’t even hear himself think—which may be a good thing…
*There are no grammatical errors up to this point.
But then, Jimin knew why people were scared of him. Poor Taehyung belonged to the wealthy and mighty Kim family—his father dominated the business industry, his mother dominated the school board as president and his second oldest brother dominated the school itself by being a potential city thug. People saw his admirable personality as a warning sign. Nobody dared to be his friend, nobody dared to cross his path even though he had done absolutely nothing that could be considered inhumane.
*There are no grammatical errors up to this point.
***
A while later, Jimin was finishing up his food, still burning hot with a grudge. He had stayed quiet the whole time, leaving Taehyung antsy and concerned. A pissed off Jimin was never something Taehyung enjoyed facing.
“That was my ing spoon, that ing prick.” Jimin mumbled through his chewing.
He was angry, but at least he wasn’t sitting anywhere near Namjoon. The last time they had lunch near each other, Namjoon had to switch shirts because soup drenched the one he was wearing while Jimin had to miss one period of class to get rid of the rice in his hair.
*There are no grammatical errors up to this point.
CHAPTER 4
*There are no grammatical errors up to this point.
He would’ve actually killed Jimin if it wasn’t for the latter who still had the strength to turn the tables around and fight back. Jimin resisted the next punch with all his might and used his other hand to swing his fist at Namjoon’s cheek.
“Why are you so pissed off? It’s not like you give a damn about him anyways.” Jimin got up as quickly as he could, taking a few steps further from Namjoon.
Namjoon was barely affected by Jimin’s punch. He got up, too, and his glare seeped deeply into Jimin’s eyes.
*There are no grammatical errors up to this point.
He then turned to the rest of the student body, all meek and timid like mice. “And how come none of you tried to stop the fight? Oh God, what will I do with all of you? I feel like I’m handling a juvenile center rather than a prestigious high school.”
Namjoon rolled his eyes at the principal’s brief lecture and attempted to wriggle out of his hold. Getting caught by the principal was nothing to him; it happened on an almost daily basis. For Jimin, however, he was startled. Although he wasn’t anybody special to the school, he was a good student with excellent discipline records. He had never even been scolded personally by a class teacher before.
“We’ll continue this at my office,” Mr. Bang said seriously. “Now walk.”
***
20 minutes. 20 whole minutes of Mr. Bang’s voice drilling into the two boys’ ears. It was just the three of them in the principal’s medium-sized office, so besides Mr. Bang’s nagging, it was completely silent.
Through the 20 minutes, both boys showed a great contrast in attitude. There was Jimin, who was sitting properly like the good boy he was, head down in shame as he nodded at nearly everything Mr. Bang had said.
Then there was Namjoon, who sat with one leg propped up his other knee, looking bored out of his mind. He didn’t even try to cover up the yawning and his eyes travelled elsewhere when they were supposed to be on the principal.
*There are no grammatical errors up to this point.
Unfortunately, the poor principal was powerless. If it wasn’t because of Namjoon’s family ties, he would’ve expelled the boy three years ago. All he could do was to remain patient and hold back from smacking Namjoon right across the face.
***
*There are no grammatical errors up to this point.
That was his life during the weekdays. He worked the evening shift at a 24-hour convenience store down the road from where he lived. He scanned items, kept money in the cash register, gave change and arranged new items that arrive late. It wasn’t the most enjoyable job, but he needed to keep it. It was his source of income, from where his money to buy food and pay rent came from.
*There are no grammatical errors up to this point.
***
*There are no grammatical errors up to this point.
12/6, Friday
I was a jackass to Hoseok after history. I’m not very proud of that. I just couldn’t help being so bitter, even if I don’t want to.
And I also fought with that midget at the café, but I have no regrets for that. He had it coming; he deserved what he got. It’ll teach him a lesson not to mess with me. Kid’s gotta learn his place in this ugly world.
*There are no grammatical errors up to this point.
CHAPTER 5
JIMIN awoke to the breezy chill of the morning. Typically, he woke up without the need of an alarm. He suppressed a groan and ran a hand down his face, not surprised to feel bruises covering his cheeks and jaw line. Eyes still closed, he stretched his arm out to reach for his glasses that he remembered leaving on the coffee table, only to reach out for nothing at all.
*There are no grammatical errors up to this point.
He could barely walk because of how badly his legs were shaking. Each step he took was weak and made him dizzier. He didn’t precisely know where he was going to go, but he headed towards the grand wooden door that he assumed led to the outside—whatever the outside was. He doubted he was even still in Seoul.
Just when he was about to grab the shiny doorknob, he accidentally looked at the ceiling-to-wall mirror beside it. Jimin collapsed, shivering in disbelief. What he saw undoubtedly the soul out of him.
The reflection in the mirror was one that he recognized, but did not belong to him. It was not him. His reflection was taller, tanner, had thicker lips and shorter hair. His reflection that was staring back at him with wide and surprised eyes was not the reflection Jimin was used to looking at.
*There are no grammatical errors up to this point.
Impossible. Ridiculous. Jimin wanted to think that it was all either a hallucination or that he was seeing things, but it was reality. He was facing reality in which he had somehow taken over Namjoon’s body. There was no scientific or at least a logical explanation Jimin’s mind could come up with. No, nothing made sense.
*There are no grammatical errors up to this point.
“W-what? N-no, that’s r-ridiculous,” Namjoon said. He refused to believe that the boy standing in front of him was himself—maybe it was his doppelganger? A clone? A long lost twin?
*There are no grammatical errors up to this point.
CHAPTER 6
JIMIN shuddered as he reached for the cardigan that lay limp beside the knocked out Namjoon. He still couldn’t accept the situation they were stuck in; it was so strange that it felt so wrong. Never would he had ever thought that one day, he’d see himself sleep—or, well, in this case, passed out on the floor. What they were going through, it, made his stomach churn at the mere idea of it all. It was ridiculous, impossible!
Yet, it happened. Somehow, someway, it happened.
He fell into one of the chairs at his dining table and rested his head, using the cardigan as a pillow. His fingers sunk into the soft cotton like it could provide him some strength to face the unbelievable misfortune he was stuck in. He breathed deeply, trying to clear his mind to ease the headache that was slowly starting to kill him. There were far too many things for him to think about until his brain was about to explode.
Just when he thought he was finally more relaxed, gradually coming into terms with what was going on in a more proper way, a sudden deafening shriek broke the silence. Jimin flinched and almost jumped from his chair, surprised, especially since it was his voice shrieking, yet the sound he had heard was one he had never heard himself make. His head snapped backwards and his jaw fell when he saw that Namjoon, in his small body, flailing and flapping around like a madman.
“This isn’t real! This isn’t real! This isn’t real! I—just—need—to—wake—up—from—this—nightmare!” Namjoon chanted loudly.
“What the hell?” Jimin gasped, confused and shocked and clueless of what to do.
Their whole ‘situation’ was horrifying enough; now Namjoon was acting like he’d been possessed by an insane demon. Wonderful.
Sending a chill down his spine, Namjoon abruptly stopped what he was doing and landed his eyes on Jimin in the eeriest way one could imagine. Jimin’s blood ran cold when upon locking gazes with his own eyes that were currently under Namjoon’s control as it was like he was looking at a mirror, a mirror that reflected the worst of him. Namjoon portrayed the same expression that showed a combination of dark, angry emotions which Jimin would see in the mirror on horrible days and the genuine likeness caught Jimin by an undefined surprise.
*There are no grammatical errors up to this point.
***
Namjoon shuddered as he stepped out of the bathroom that he wasn’t sure deserved to be called a bathroom. It was already at an extreme level of gross when he had to shower with someone else’s body, but that bathroom made it a hundred times worse. It was so small, the lights flickered, the floor was sticky and the water vanished halfway while shampoo was in his eyes, leaving him screaming out incoherent words in pain for 5 minutes.
*There are no grammatical errors up to this point.
Namjoon continued drying his hair with his towel as he sat down on the couch. He looked around to find a clock and inevitably landed eyes on a framed photo on what he assumed was Jimin’s study table. From the distance, he could see that it was a middle-aged couple, with a small boy between them. He guessed that they were Jimin’s parents and that the boy was him, but if they were really Jimin’s parents, then where are they now?
***
*There are no grammatical errors up to this point.
He put it on top of one of the pillows, giving it a last curious stare before taking the phone that was in the little cabinet. He put the phone into his pocket and turned around to walk to the door, but something in the corner of the room caught his attention. Unable to fight against his curiosity this time, he let himself be nosy for once and stepped towards what looked to be a medium-sized photo frame turned upside down. There were pieces of broken glass covered in dust surrounding the frame and Jimin carefully lifted the photo up. He didn’t like to meddle in other people’s business, but he was stuck in Namjoon’s body and it wouldn’t hurt to know more about the guy, would it?
What, or rather, who, Jimin saw in the photo made him instantly put it back, a loud sound of more glass shattering echoed in his ears. He was flabbergasted and didn’t believe what he had seen.
*There are no grammatical errors up to this point.
CHAPTER 7
*There are no grammatical errors up to this point.
Well, Jimin wrote, Namjoon just doodled random stick figures and scribbled unreadable quotes all over his paper. Jimin suppressed a sigh, choosing not to comment on anything. Instead, he kept on scrolling and stopped at a page that listed down the causes of body swapping.
*There are no grammatical errors up to this point.
He was cut off by Jimin’s phone that loudly vibrated, causing it to almost fall off the coffee table. Jimin immediately grabbed it and let out a sharp gasp upon seeing the caller. How on earth could he have forgotten about his best friend who was also the brother of Namjoon?
*There are no grammatical errors up to this point.
“I don’t care, Jimin, I’m coming to check on you and that’s final.” insisted Taehyung at the other end. Before Namjoon had the chance to protest, he had already hung up.
*There are no grammatical errors up to this point.
“Thanks for checking on me.” he added, brought back to reality by the cockroach that suddenly opened its wings.
“Bye, buddy. Take care.” Taehyung said before leaving. There was the faraway sound of a door closing and Namjoon peeked his head out the bathroom door, just in case Taehyung hadn’t actually left.
He sighed. “Coast is clear.”
“Whew. Good job being me.” Jimin sincerely praised. He was sort of impressed that Namjoon didn’t say anything in a certain way that could raise suspicion; then again, Namjoon himself wouldn’t want to be in further trouble.
Namjoon just smirked lazily at Jimin’s compliment. He then asked with the most gentle tone Jimin had ever heard him use, “Taehyung really loves you, doesn’t he?”
Jimin was slightly taken aback by the question. “Y-yeah, I guess so. I’m really blessed to have him in my life.”
He debated with himself on whether or not he should add, “He loves you way more, though,” but for now, he decided to keep quiet.
CHAPTER 8
This time, they have done a more specific search, typing keywords like body swap stories and how to switch bodies with someone onto Google’s search bar and crossing their fingers with high hopes. Jimin was engrossed in finding a scientific explanation, while Namjoon seemed to be more interested in reading up spiritual explanations. There were even Youtube videos offered as answers. However, despite their good teamwork and relentless researching, they still couldn’t find a solution that would help with their ‘special’ case.
*There are no grammatical errors up to this point.
“The plot kinda gave me an insight on what happened to us. It may be exactly similar, maybe a little different… It’ll make sense for us, though, I guess. I don’t know. It’s just a hugeass maybe.”
*There are no grammatical errors up to this point.
“Jackpot.” Namjoon grinned widely, pulling out his hand, which then grabbed several crumpled money bills. “Well this isn’t much for me but it’s definitely the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow for you.”
*There are no grammatical errors up to this point.
CHAPTER 9
*There are no grammatical errors up to this point.
Needless to be said with words, Jimin was dying from the tension. It was suffocating and he felt a distinct pounding somewhere in the back of his head. He didn’t know that dinner could turn out so intense... yet Mrs. Jung seemed indifferent while Taehyung was looking down and playing with his food. It was as if arguments were a legitimate part of dinner.
*There are no grammatical errors up to this point.
DISCLAIMER: This is for proofreading purposes only.
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