"I think this place is gloomy," was the first thing that Seungyeon muttered as she stood by the door of his apartment with hands over her chest as if she was a class renounced interior designer whose job was to comment on every single piece of furniture that Jimin decided to impulsively buy to make this humble little mancave of his a bit more lively. Even though she did study architecture, it still shouldn't actually give her the credibility to make a review of Jimin's choice (and limited capability) of home deco that he put up from those kind of free tabloids while he was taking a dump.

"I just move in here," Jimin said back as an excuse, though he knew how much of a lie it was.

Seungyeon scoffed before she took off her shoes and closed the door behind her, taking bold steps towards his bedroom without even excusing herself first.

"Seulgi was right, you know," Jimin commented as she followed her from behind. "You do like to look at people's things."

The older girl laughed at that before commenting again. "Oh please, Jaehyuk had complimented me for not having something called 'personal boundaries'."

"Please noona, that's an insult, not a compliment."

Seungyeon fixed her eyes on the single-sized bed at the corner of the room before it darted towards a simple desk at the adjacent side of it where only a couple of books and some pens were laid beneath. Right by the door stood a wardrobe and it wasn't indeed surprising when she opened it and snooped over Jimin's choice of fashion, thanking the lord at the same time upon seeing the rows of white trunks and what she described as 'the lack of color pink'.

"Neat," she commented before closing the wardrobe and headed to his kitchen instead, probably going to give another judgement and comment about each corner of his apartment.

"Isn't the rent a bit high?" she asked him as she rummaging her way through his medicine cabinet while Jimin was preparing tea for both of them in the kitchen.

"Yeah, but both of my parents work, and I do part time as well, so it kind of help," Jimin answered back just when the kettle boil.

He could hear Seungyeon slamming the cabinet's door before he heard the shower being this time. She was probably checking whether the temperature was to her liking or not. The woman reappeared in the kitchen right when Jimin was pouring the hot water into the cup.

"By the way, your curtain shower is crooked," she said as she took the cup from Jimin's hand.

"You're going to fix it for me?" Jimin halfheartedly joke.

Seungyeon scoffed. "I'm your senior, not your landlord," she said. "After all, I didn't learn how to fix certain things, even though I did study architecture."

"Better than to broke things," he said back.

It was a comfortable silence between the two of them as both took a sip from their tea, savoring the flavor upon their tongue. Lately, tea had been a best friend of his. He didn't find any enjoyment out of it at first, though his grandmother was passionate for it, sipping one every five o'clock each morning as she sat by the table and watched the sun rise by the kitchen's window.

"I know someone who used to break stuff," he found himself muttering, more like talking to himself. "A friend of mine could deflate a basketball with nothing but his touch."

"That's preposterous," commented Seungyeon as the girl let her gaze lingered throughout the room once again. "I bet the ball is already old. It's just a coincidence."

"Yeah, I know," he whispered. All of them knew, actually, but everybody found it funnier if they said that Namjoon's touch was the one at fault. Back then it was playful banter and inside jokes. Now it was reality and friends that wouldn't understand why sunset meant a thousand things for Jimin.

"How long have you been living alone, Jimin?" Seungyeon asked, slowly walking out of the kitchen and heading towards his bedroom once again.

"Since university, I guess," Jimin answered, following her from behind, making sure that she stopped messing around with his things though he knew it would be pointless. Seungyeon would most definitely mess with his things.

Seungyeon let out a small laugh. "You're lying to me. You didn't 'just move in'. That was like-, almost half a year ago."

"Well, it wasn't that long ago to my standard."

"Your standard is crooked, Park Jimin," she said, this time sitting on his bed.

She nonchalantly just lied on his bed then, looking at the ceiling. It was weird to see another person on his bed while Jimin himself was standing by the door. Was this how he look like every night, lying on top of his bed with eyes wide open? It would certainly be different because Seungyeon was lying on the middle of the bed when Jimin would be crouching at the corner, back sticking on the wall while he rolled himself like a baby, hands wrapping both his bent legs against his chest.

"I know why this place is so gloomy."

"Why?"

Seungyeon stood up and sat on the bed while answering. "This place doesn't have a single window."

Oh, that.

"Yeah, I know."

"Why do you even pay a lot of won for a place that doesn't have a window?" she asked.

Jimin shrugged. He thought that she wouldn't notice. But then again, she did study architecture, she was bound to notice. "I just don't like the scenery."

Seungyeon might find it weird but she just scoffed instead. "Mark my word, Park Jimin, you're going to die from suffocation," she said, pointing a finger at him with what seemed like a makeshift threat.

Jimin just smiled softly.

"I already did anyway."

+.-.+

First day of school didn't really mean much when all that Jimin could think about was getting home as fast as he could. Everything felt foreign to him, standing in front of a smaller classroom than what he used to be in for two years. The eyes that stared at him didn't really help and thus he found peace in between his shoelaces that should be tied twice instead of just once. He sat next to someone who did nothing but stare at him for a whole minute, making Jimin felt even more restless. Nothing significant happened during the entire day. A few girls tried to talk to him during recess, which Jimin only answered with a small hum and a simple smile before he ran to the bathroom and locked himself there just to breath.

All he wanted to do was to have the day ended so that he could lock himself back in his room and lied on the floor. He had avoided conversation and tried his best to be invisible, walking back home through the agonizing thirty minutes and stood in front of his door only to have his grandmother smiling so wide, asking him how his first day was.

“So have you made friends yet, Jimin?” she asked with smile so warm and eyes sparkling with hope.

“Not really,” he answered softly as he sat at the dining table with his grandmother preparing lunch for him.

“Oh, don't worry, Jimin. You'll make lots of friends in time. I know some kids in the neighborhood around your age. You'll fit in with them,” she continued.

And it made Jimin feel worse because the problem was himself, how he wasn't even trying to make new friends. He didn't even want to have one right now. All that they would possibly be in the end was another blade amongst the hundreds that was stabbed on his heart. They would only be another scar, another fight or mistake that made months of spent times and memories an agonizing regret.

“Yeah, halmeoni,” Jimin whispered back. That was the only thing he could say because her warm smile upon homemade bulgogi and tasty kimchi made his heart feel heavy again.

His grandmother had such an optimistic view for him, cheering him up every single second of the day when Jimin found it real hard to even bring himself up from the bed each morning. So that night, he buried his face against his pillow in an attempt to muffle his own scream. If he wanted to cry, the least he could do was making sure that his grandmother wouldn't hear him.

It was the third day when he found himself sitting in the classroom alone when the bell had rang. Most of the students in the school didn't spend too many times lingering around the school ground, not like what he used to do in Seoul. Back then it was really hard for him and Taekhoon to wait until all of the students left the classroom. The first time it was only the two of them exchanging words before it turned into a makeout session at the back of the room. Since then they sometimes purposely waited until everyone was gone to turn off the light and hurriedly went to the back, hidden in the shadow to exchange hungry kisses and muffled moans.

The memory made his heart clench because he hadn't thought about missing Taekhoon in weeks. Only now when he was sitting alone in the classroom with no one to witness him did he remember that time, when all that he had was naive love and happiness between their dirty little secret.

It started as tears falling down his face like always before small sobs escaping his lips. He made a lot of memories with Taekhoon inside of the classroom before it turned into a mistake. Because that one time they were careless, whether it was Jimin too loud or a teacher walking passed the hallway by chance. Either way, it wasn't until he was called out to the principal office did his world start to crumble and the classroom he loved so much turned into a living hell to be in, reminding him of a mistake that had turned his world into pieces.

It was only fitting for his cry to grow in volume until he found himself screaming. He couldn't do that back in his grandmother's house, muffling his scream against his pillow simply because he didn't want his grandmother to hear and worry for him. But this time no one was going to hear him and Jimin just screamed as loud as he could, letting all of the sadness out of his heart.

He thought that it was finally enough, that he had let everything out. But somehow he had found himself waiting for the students to leave the classroom at the fourth day with feet fidgeting and screamed for the second time. And he did it again for the next day and the next day, staying in the classroom to cry.

In the midst of it all, Jimin could only wonder when would he finally lose his voice, not being able to scream anymore. Because as much as he had cried, he could never get rid of that feeling of sadness in his heart.

+.-.+

He wouldn't be acquainted with Jeon Jungkook if it wasn't for a book that fell right on his feet. Jimin didn't have any attention to make new friends and it stayed that way for days that went along like a haze. He always had his head to his feet, trying to make himself invisible.

But one day it was a book that popped in his view, one that fell right in front of his two feet as he walked down the hallway during recess. He had stopped immediately, thinking about taking it off the ground before another hand had done so before him, the possible owner squatting right in front of him.

The thing about having his head down towards the ground each time even in the midst of a conversation he tried to run away to, was the absence of a gaze, nothing but the tiled floor or the dirty ground that proved as a safe heaven. This time it was another black hair and soft eyes, young face and surprised expression that greeted him as the boy raised his head and their eyes met.

This time he oddly felt like someone just stepped into that safe heaven he built and he couldn't turn his gaze away anymore.

"Oh, I'm sorry," the boy answered before smiling softly.

Jimin didn't really remember each students in his class, but he at least knew that this boy wasn't a part of it. He had soft feature and kind eyes, one that told Jimin how he wasn't really an adult yet. He seemed younger than him but he looked indeed sweet. On different day Jimin would certainly take a second look at such face he encountered on the street of Apgujeong.

“No, it's okay,” he answered with a polite smile.

"You're the new student, right?" the boy continued instead.

Jimin just nodded slightly.

“You're in the same class as my hyungs. They say you came from Seoul,” he added, face looking even brighter.

This was the thing with every students he met. They were indeed really nice, asking him questions about how life in the big city was. Then again, those questions would remind him to memories he was trying to forget, how the only thing he could think about was the pain that he had left there. This boy was no exception.

“Yeah,” he softly said. This was the moment he usually turned around, making excuses about having to go somewhere and avoided a conversation the best he could.

“So how is it like over there? A hyung of mine really wants to go there after he graduates.”

It's just a reminder of a mistake that he had made. A big city in the middle of a map whose inhabitants that he knew probably despised him already for being what he is.

“It's nice. It's really big, very different than Yeoryang-myeon.”

“Oh, come on. It's definitely more than that,” the boy said, seemingly unsatisfied with his answer but still keeping the smile on his face nonetheless. “Please, tell me more-, uhm,” and the boy paused for a while, before continuing with a more polite tone. “I'm sorry, I don't know your name,” he added.

He should indeed be going away, but there was something that keeping his feet there and his eyes away from the floor. Maybe because he was somehow feeling better this time, he could at least talk a little bit about Seoul. Maybe it was the sadness finally being rid of him for just a little while, or his old self finally coming back to him, looking for just a nice little conversation.

“It's Park Jimin,” he said.

“Nice to meet you Park Jimin,” the boy said this time. “I'm Jeon Jungkook.”

Later on he thought it was maybe the gaze, because Jeon Jungkook had really looked at him in the eye that one time even though it was nothing but an accident. It was seemingly a weakness of a Park Jimin, being looked at in the eyes.

(And very much later on Jimin thought how ironic it was, that the first person that he befriended ended up being the one that hated him the most).

+.-.+

The next monday came too slow for his liking and Jimin dragged his feet along the agonizing walk through the street of Yeoryang-myeon on a sunny evening after staying back at school to do what he had always done. In fact, his crying session had started to be the only thing that he was looking forward to each day, the time where he could just let go of that never-ending burden on his back.

That evening it was his grandmother who greeted him as she was watering her flowers outside with words that made its way to his heart.

“You can invite them over,” she said as she looked over her Hibiscus.

“What do you mean, Halmeoni?” Jimin asked, stopping by the door, baffled by her words.

She took down the heavy watering can she had been using for ages before turning her head towards Jimin with a blinding smile.

“You know, your new friends,” she answered. “You've been coming home late from school, you've been making friends and staying with them after school, have you?”

Jimin just stood there for quite a few seconds, looking at the genuine smile of his grandmother before forcing himself to do the same, even as much as his heart ache to the words. Because his grandmother wasn't doing anything wrong. He was the one at fault. That sweet old grandmother of his just wanted her grandson to be happy, to make new friends and found this small forsaken town as a home.

And the sad thing was how she thought he did, when in reality he had been staying over late so just he didn't have to cry back home and worry her.

“Y-yeah,” he said, voice seemingly read to break. “Of course, halmeoni,” he continued before he quickly turned his head away and walked towards his room upstairs, locking the door behind and threw his backpack to the corner of his room.

From downstairs he could hear his grandmother calling out for him once again, probably realizing the weird demeanor that her grandson was displaying but Jimin couldn't care less. He just cried back another shaky “I'm okay” as he stood there right in the middle of his room with fist tightened and chest heaving, letting his emotion overwhelmed him.

That day he hated himself once again, for making his grandmother worried, for being what he was, for being so pathetic that he couldn't stop crying or screaming. In fact that was the only thing that he could do, for when his knees met the floor, Jimin just brought his hands to his mouth, desperately blocking the wretched sound that he was making. He just knelt there in the middle of his room, hands against his own face, trying to keep those desperate noise from leaking out of his trembling lips.

Even as his grandmother called out to him once again and did as much as knock on his door out of worry, calling his name over and over again, he just stayed there on the floor, hands against his mouth and runny nose, hoping that doing so could stop the sobs and the tears that were falling against the wooden floor.

That day with the hands tight against his mouth and the uncontrollable sobs, Jimin felt like he was suffocating.