2.1

Namjoon was terrified. He was staring out of the large window, hoping that the sight of the beautiful garden of the Kim residence could manage to calm him down.

He told himself that it was an irrational feeling, he told himself that it was just another day of school like any other one he would have to get used to because he was going to do that same path, that same life for at least another three years. This, of course, instead of calming him down helped to increase his nervousness. He was only fifteen, almost sixteen. Super brain or not Namjoon still felt like a boy, very naive and very unprepared for all that had been thrown on him by some twist of fate.

I can do it. I can do it.

Maybe if he said it loud enough, long enough, it would have been true. Maybe if he kept telling himself that, he would end up believing it.

Like all the times when Namjoon was faced with something greater than himself, he let his mind wander free, getting lost in his own personal universe. A verse that he had found difficult to finish for example. What could be the best word for the lyrics to sound better? With a fast movement that in other circumstances would end up with him crashing his face on the floor, he went back to seat on the bed, taking the notebook that had placed on the bedside table with him. The room was too tidy, too empty, there weren't his books scattered on the floor, nor his papers or his clothes, the ones his mother always complained they were anywhere but in their place. There was nothing and this was the reason why Namjoon hadn't tripped yet: he wasn't in his own home. He was in another house that was a palace and in a room that was twice his. There was soft carpeting instead of the hard wood floor and the walls were cold and so the air of inevitability that soaked that environment where Namjoon felt stifled.

Seokjin found him in that position while tormenting a pen with his fingers and staring into space, too engrossed in whatever he was thinking to hear the footsteps of his soul mate in the doorway.

"Good morning!" Seokjin greeted him with that lively and gentle voice that was so characteristic of him. Namjoon felt enveloped by an additional layer of soft blankets when Seokjin addressed him. The youngest gave a little jump on the bed, not having noticed the entrance of his companion.

"Hello Jin," it was strange, in that new life a lot of things were strange, saying Seokjin’s name is so familiar, as if they were old friends and there weren't million differences to divide them, starting from their age.

"Are you nervous? I am too a little bit, but don't worry it's a first day for the both of us and then we can always meet for lunch," Seokjin had circumnavigated his new bed to go and sit next to him. His knee was bent and made direct contact with the older's thigh, it was a minimal contact but his body seemed to be very responsive to his soul mate’s touch. "And tonight if you want we can do something together," he concluded with affection.

"Sure, okay," said Namjoon unable to really oppose. When it came to Seokjin his body seemed to go into conflict. The desire to have him around was very strong and, at the same time, Namjoon could not bear his sight. Not even two weeks before, with the start of classes and the approach of his birthday, the Kims had considered appropriate enough for him to start living at the residence with them. It was yet another violence, yet another unilateral decision that he had to undergo. No one seemed to care that he might have a different opinion, that he would miss his family, his life, his home.

He felt Seokjin's hand on his shoulder, comforting and warm and then moist lips on his cheek.

It was a moment and it was finished before Namjoon could say anything. He just found himself staring at brown eyes, impossibly close, and so kind.

"It'll be okay, Namjoon. See you at the entrance," said Seokjin getting off the bed and going out of his room with leisurely pace. Namjoon waited to hear the footsteps move away, before taking the pillow beside him and muffle a scream into it.

Seokjin was so kind, always so kind and loving.

He lowered his hand until it went to rest on Namjoon's hands. He had been tormenting his fingers ever since it had started the introduction but as he felt his soul mate touch his fingers stopped trembling.

Since their first meeting, Namjoon had known very well that even though Seokjin was the cause of the breaking down of his little world, he was also the most beautiful person he had ever known.

Nevertheless, Namjoon couldn't help but hate the day when their fates crossed.

"If you don't swallow quickly, it'll get worse," his mother used to tell him whenever Namjoon stubbornly refused to swallow down the horrendous cough medicine. His mother, of course, was right even if Namjoon thought that no matter how fast he did it, nothing would erase the taste of bitterness. It had been like that with every awful medicine in his life and with so many other bad things. Namjoon had always worked hard to knock out everything as quickly as possible.

But some things were more difficult to swallow and even more indigestible. In his opinion, he had already swallowed several nasty things and he suspected that he would have to continue to do so.

The Kims’ car had left them a few meters from the entrance of the college, Namjoon told himself he had to be grateful that the car had not left them directly in front of the steps and that had happened only due to the insistence of Seokjin.

They got out of the car at the same time and Namjoon observed how Seokjin immediately went to stand next to him. The older had been accepted into the law school of his same college. He had appeared as excited as he was to attend economy classes but, except for a sigh of disappointment, the youngest had never heard him complain. Namjoon was uncertain whether find this an admirable trait or find that attitude infinite levels of irritating. He told himself to remember that Kim Seokjin was born and raised as a Kim and so for him to accept his fate was something that had been branded in his mind since his earliest childhood.

Not like me. I was thrown into this alternate reality and nobody had the decency to ask if I agreed.

He clenched his fists and tried to put more distance between himself and Jin as they walked down the road that would take them to the entrance.

"Namjoon, my department is in the main building while the economy department is in the south building. Want me to go with you?" Seokjin asked kindly. They had spent enough days together for Seokjin to know Namjoon was clumsy since the latter had succeeded in the glorious task of getting lost in their villa.

"No thanks, Jin, I'll manage," Namjoon said, but he couldn't even finish the sentence that he tripped on a stone of the cobbled path. Seokjin put a hand over his mouth to stifle the laughter and Namjoon would have felt offended, but when he turned the words died in his throat. Seokjin was all red in the face and his laughter had a ridiculous sound. Yet he seemed so genuine. Innocent.

The elder came up to him and put a hand on his forearm and squeezed affectionately

in apology.

"Okay, see you later then," Namjoon half expected to be kissed again but nothing happened. Seokjin simply arranged his bag on his shoulder and greeted him with a wave of a hand and a smile.

Namjoon turned to watch his hyung as he continued on his way with all the calm of the world.

He walked tiredly towards his class, hoping to swallow his bitter syrup quickly enough.

It was not like that at all.

The first year of the Faculty of Economics had a lot of students and Namjoon was forced to grab a seat in a corner so far away from the teacher's desk that he almost couldn't see him well in the face. The good thing despite the bad view of the blackboard was that at least he could do his things without being disturbed. He started to scribble with a pencil on his book and then without even have to think twice he began to work on the lyrics of that morning, he would do anything to ignore the obscene noise of concepts that reminded him how far was what he was doing from what he had dreamed of.

He sent a message to Yoongi, hiding the phone under the desk, in the hope that his friend would come rescue him from boredom. Maybe if he pretended he had a sudden meeting he wouldn't have to spend lunch with Seokjin. Namjoon snorted resting his head on his arms crossed over his book.

His mother had so recommended him to give a chance to Seokjin and the Kim family and not being so himself, stubborn and without wanting to listen to anyone, but it was difficult to give a chance to his soul mate when it meant giving up mind and body to the Kims.

He cast another glance at the phone but still nothing. He sighed. Namjoon didn't know what had happened to his best friend. They had never spoken about deep issues although in a sense Yoongi had done nothing ever since Namjoon had known him. His songs, his story was written in his songs and they were also a good indicator of his mood. However, his songs lately had become darker, more desperate, until Yoongi a month earlier had stopped writing. Namjoon was sure of that fact because the older hadn't called even once in the middle night stricken by inspiration like he usually did.

Something had happened to his best friend and Namjoon didn't know what to do about it. He couldn't even go to him and face him because his best friend had forbidden anyone to set foot in his house and Namjoon himself had been so busy by his personal nightmare to not have the energy to stalk him and take the truth out of him, the only method that worked with Yoongi. Therefore Namjoon couldn't do anything but wait, hoping that his friend would open up. He felt guilty because he so often poured over Yoongi all his worries while he seemed unable to do the same for the other.

The phone vibrated. It was with relief that he saw it was a message from Yoongi telling him that he would pass during lunch break. He could do it, he repeated to himself for the umpteenth time. Finally, some air got in his lungs and his stomach relaxed at the thought that he was going to feel the scent of home. It was all so new and so different, endless corridors and unknown faces, that he needed to see a friendly face.

Feeling refreshed Namjoon finally decided to pay attention to what the professor was saying. It would never be his music but maybe, it could be that the lessons were not so bad.

Four hours later Namjoon felt like his head had been filled by force. He began to feel a slight headache at the temples. This will be your life, every day, for the next few years.

Namjoon ran out of the classroom as soon as the teacher dismissed them. He ran along the corridors and then out into the large garden of the campus. The still-hot air in early September hit him straight in the face, as well as the midday sun coming down. He put his hands on his knees trying to breathe in big gulps. What was happening to him.

He felt the phone vibrate again this time repeatedly, he took it off right away from the pocket of his new branded jeans that were squeezing him in the wrong ways.

"I am at the main entrance. Hurry up, they are all looking at me weirdly, "

It was the most annoyed tone that he had felt in a while but Namjoon found it comforting. "Coming," he replied before closing the call. With leisurely pace he walked to the entrance, trying not to trip over his own feet like that morning. Yoongi was sitting on the steps of the great staircase of the main building. He was dressed in the most inappropriate way possible, with jeans torn in several places and a sweater that had seen better times. He had the hood covering his head and he was smoking heavily.

In such an elite environment, Yoongi stood out like a wild flower in the middle of a lavender field. You mean a weed, said a voice in his head that was too similar to his friend’s.

"Finally," Yoongi said in a rough voice. Who knows how many cigarettes he had smoked that day or those days. The older got up from his position like a cat stretching in the sun, he threw away his cigarette and looked at Namjoon as if he had something to be forgiven for.

"You made it," the younger said, smiling. Yoongi looked at him strangely, then sighed, put his hands in his pockets and said.

"Yes, I'm here. Let's go, I'm hungry and you have the air of someone who has to fill their stomachs."

Namjoon smiled but could not even take a few steps that a voice called him from the top of the stairs.

"Namjoon!" It was lively and kind as was the tone Seokjin seemed to reserve only for him. Namjoon stopped mid track and mixed feelings danced on his face. Annoyance, resignation. A feeling of adoration that he didn't want to feel yet he did.

"That's him, right?" Namjoon didn't answer but stood there, sunken shoulders. "Well at least they were right when they said he was attractive," Namjoon let out a laugh.

Seokjin walked the steps that separated them and Namjoon couldn't help but look at him, staying as always breathless. He was his soul mate, his body recognized Seokjin as such, him who is the Kim and at the same time just Jin.

The elder immediately put his hand on his shoulder and then held out a hand to Yoongi.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Seokjin," he said and Yoongi was taken aback by so much open trust.

"Min Yoongi," the other said laconically.

Seokjin tilted his head and Namjoon felt compelled to make the presentations. He cleared his throat.

"Yoongi and I are friends from high school days," Namjoon said.

"Oh, you were in the same class! Which college do you go Yoongi? "Asked Seokjin without realizing the naivety of his question. Namjoon glared at Yoongi as the latter laughed. His friend knew that no one, no one, should have known the real age of Namjoon. The younger wanted to kick so much his best friend.

"Oh god no. We haven't met at school. I'm still in the last year of high school and I live across town so it would be impossible to meet. Let's say Joon and I became best friends on the mutual sense of rebellion, "

Seokjin looked confused and Namjoon sighed. He should have known that it would end like this, with Yoongi using that chance to get him into trouble and test the patience of Seokjin.

"We met during a night when we both sneaked secretly in a pub," his friend explained. Seokjin looked surprised but not shocked, somehow pleasantly amused.

"I must confess that my cousin Hyosang dragged me into a similar experience," said Seokjin letting out a laugh. Namjoon was so surprised that he made the first genuine smile in weeks.

"Surprised that I'm not so boring Joonie?" Seokjin joked. "Let's go to eat, I invite you both to have lunch if you like. Unless you want to do a reunion, I swear that I won't get offended, " offered Seokjin. His hand slipped from the shoulder of Namjoon till his hand and the younger squeezed it back because the impulse felt always so strong. When Namjoon lifted his eyes, he saw his friend having a strange smile on his face.

"Why not," said Yoongi surprising Namjoon. The reason why he didn't want to see Seokjin, his soul mate, was because he always ended up getting in and he couldn't tolerate that. So he called his best friend to help him avoid those mixed feelings but Yoongi decided otherwise. Namjoon knew his friend wanted to understand what type of person was his soul mate and why his world seemed to scare the younger so much.

They walked together towards the canteen of the college and they probably looked like and odd trio. Yoongi was having a hard time answering the questions that Seokjin kept asking him and for Namjoon was a strange experience, as if old and new were clashing together.

The canteen of the college was already full of students, people distributed in pairs or in larger groups. Yet, when the three of them made their entrance, Namjoon had the impression that many gazes focused on them. On Seokjin in particular. The latter seemed not to notice, Namjoon tried to imitate him even though he might have never had the natural ability to slip through looks and gossip in the same efficient way as Seokjin. They took their trays and filled the plates with food and finally they chose a table that was possibly more private.

"What are you going to do after you have finished school Yoongi?" Seokjin asked before biting a big chunk of bread. Namjoon swallowed his mouthful noisily. A couple of years before he and Yoongi used to amuse themselves in dreams of glory in which both had managed to succeed in the path of music. Namjoon was thirteen years old and had just started to make music and Yoongi was only fifteen. It was probably his happiest time. Namjoon had found the cure for his headaches and the older, although increasingly cynical, had that smile that sometimes brightened his face and was able to encourage Namjoon even when he felt frustrated by his inexperience.

"I would like to devote myself to music. I'd like to make my passion a career someday, "Yoongi answered dryly, looking firstly at Namjoon and then to Seokjin.

"If that's what you like to do, then why not?" Replied Seokjin encouraging. Namjoon felt dizzy. Seokjin said those words with such a disarming innocence, did he know, did he know that Yoongi's dream had been and still was his own? That he would trade anything to see that dream come true? He felt a twinge of pain in his temples, so violent that Namjoon jumped slightly, the cutlery slipping out of his hands slid making a loud noise when touching the plate.

"Namjoon are you okay?" asked worried Seokjin, laying a gentle hand on his wrist.

"It's all right, just a bit of a headache,"

"They're back," said harshly Yoongi. It was not a question, it was a heavy comment and Namjoon glared at him.

It was the turn of Seokjin to look from one to another.

"Do you mean that you usually suffer from these episodes?"

Yoongi could not stifle a derisive snort and Seokjin was forced to refocus his attention on him, surprised, eyebrow raised, and expression a bit wounded from the sassy attitude of Yoongi. Do you even know your soulmate?

"I used to often suffer from headaches, even though for a while I've been better," Namjoon replied. While it was true that he wanted to throw this heavy truth on Seokjin, the fact that the return of his discomfort was indirectly his fault, on the other hand, he didn't want to do it. He could not because it was not Jin’s fault and perhaps this made it even more difficult to accept his situation. Jin had not asked to be his soul mate, yet he accepted Namjoon with open arms. He cared for him because they belonged together.

"You should have told me. I'm sorry, I know headaches . Please take these pills, luckily I always carry something with me just in case," the older said pulling out some painkillers from his bag. "Take them with a full stomach, though."

When Namjoon managed to look away from the worried face of Seokjin, he saw that Yoongi had resumed eating as if nothing had happened.

For a moment he thought that thinking of putting Yoongi and Seokjin in the same space wasn't his best idea, those two were so different that they could never get along.

Besides, that lunch would not last forever and Yoongi seemed to have calmed down and Namjoon started to think they could get out of it unharmed.

"Do you think he's a number zero?" The question was asked in a tone of voice too high to get unnoticed and Namjoon wondered if it was a deliberate move.

"Of course not, a Kim could never go around with people of that kind," said the second voice. Namjoon turned right away just to see a girl throw an outraged look at Yoongi.

Oh no. It was impossible to emerge unscathed from this considering that his own blood was boiling in his veins. He saw Yoongi squeeze his fork as if to break the metal, Namjoon looked around hostile ready to glare at anyone who dared to say anything else, who cared if he was supposed to be a mannered Kim.

They were really in a new world, he thought dejectedly.

The high school, the season of youth, even with its flaws, still represented a safe world. When people were young and they weren't eighteen yet, a time when numbers two still hadn't met their soul mate, kids often used to experience, mix up, be less rigid with status differences. It was normal, it was almost inevitable and it was tolerated, even though Namjoon had never understood the practice because he knew that any relationship between the numbers zero and numbers two could only end badly. It happened more often than numbers two were willing to admit, but then, like a midnight spell, with the coming of age everything they had shared, ceased to be, and numbers two took their rightful place among their peers. And the mixing up was something that could never happen again.

It was not yet the adult world of those who worked and had a family, but the differences were already there during college, more pronounced and palpable that in high school. Namjoon observed that, in fact, no one was sitting alone. Even in the likely event that there were numbers zero, they knew all too well that it was not desirable to show off their status. Given the status of Seokjin, everyone knew who he was and therefore they also knew Namjoon. However, his best friend with his clothes, so unusual for that environment, and with his attitude and unhappy look seemed to scream to the world number zero. Because numbers two always smiled.

"Such a charming environment," said Yoongi cursing, turning the heads of those who were sitting near them.

"Even as a number zero I'm worth more than any other empty head in here," said Yoongi. Namjoon was afraid he would lose his temper. That was a sensitive topic for his best friend and Namjoon knew it was a wound that his friend brought with him and that he himself had not been able to give a name to it but he knew Yoongi had it and it was deep.

"Yoongi," Namjoon called him.

But it wasn't him who kept his friend from jumping off his chair.

"You're absolutely right," Seokjin said loudly enough for many people to hear him.

"Besides I can hang out with whoever I want, even a cactus if I feel like it," Seokjin added haughtily. In all that time the younger had never seen his soul mate take advantage of his status, Seokjin would never do that. Except perhaps to defend someone and his soul mate had just defended Yoongi although the latter had been little more than rude to him.

Seokjin's words, though, seemed to have placated his best friend, who sat down again and finally decided to finish eating with as much dignity as he could flaunt.

Namjoon watched his soul mate. Seokjin continued to act as if nothing had happened too, as if what he had just done wasn't something special.

He could not help but feel a violent motion of admiration. Seokjin caught his eye and smiled, making Namjoon blush.

They separated shortly after, to return to their afternoon classes. Namjoon waved at his soulmate, full of thoughts and questions, headache slightly improved thanks to the painkillers, even though he knew that he needed his music to be able to get better.

It was a compulsion, Namjoon could not explain it rationally, but music was something that made him feel good, that made him happy, it was something he could not live without and it gave a feeling of attachment difficult to explain in words. He suspected that even if he succeeded, he would have sounded crazy to the ears of most people.

Namjoon watched then Seokjin back away and wondered why things had to be so complicated.

"Hey," Yoongi patted him on the shoulder trying to comfort him.

"Tonight there's a gig at the pub. I'll pick you at ten, "Namjoon turned to Yoongi.

"You know I don't live with my parents anymore,"

"Damn I forgot you moved into the Kim residence," his friend replied annoyed. "But tonight there's still a gig and we both know that you and I need to vent out. Do you think you'll manage to come? "Namjoon thought about the Kim palace that was weirdly called home, he thought about the empty corridors, about his room too big and tidy. Too foreign. He also remembered the promise he had made to Seokjin that they would do something together that night.

"Sure, I'll see you there."

He had to do it, he had to go there, Namjoon said to himself. Yet why even though he needed that to breathe, why did he feel so guilty?

As the ceremony of introduction ended, their families started slowly to exit the great hall in order to give them space and privacy. His mother affectionately his cheek, before going out too, the doors closing behind her. They were alone.

Namjoon looked around, trying to postpone the moment when he had to look at him. At his soul mate Kim Seokjin. But his eyes did not seem to help but return to him. Their gazes met again. Even his eyes seemed to smile. Namjoon smiled shyly back. He was the most beautiful person Namjoon had ever seen. He seemed to radiate brightness and warmness and even though he was nervous, he felt, at the same time, as safe as he had never been before.

Seokjin got up and circled the table to go and sit in the chair next to Namjoon.

"Hello, I'm Seokjin, nice to meet you," he had heard his voice when he pronounced the promises seriously and solemnly and yet now it sounded so affectionate and lovely.

"Namjoon," he replied, nervously moving his legs and knocking involuntarily the knees of Seokjin. "Oh sorry," said Namjoon feeling as always an awkward mess. Seokjin laughed without mockery, almost like he was delighted by his clumsiness, almost as if he found it adorable.

Namjoon smiled back. He saw Seokjin's eyes get bigger in surprise and adoration, he saw him raise a hand and gently sink his finger on the dimple in his right cheek.

Namjoon shivered when he felt the touch and even Seokjin shuddered.

The smile of the older grew wider. He lowered his hand slowly until it went to rest on Namjoon's hand, who had been tormenting his fingers ever since the introduction had started.

His fingers stopped trembling.

"I was such a fool, I kept getting angsty feeling so insecure, "Namjoon nodded because he had felt like that too, though for reasons he could not confess, that he could probably never confess.

"But now that I've met you..." Seokjin squeezed his fingers. "I believe that we will be happy together, you and I."

Namjoon felt a piece of his heart, die.