Carbs should be one of the seven deadly sins, according to Chaeyoung, because they're addictive, essential and fattening - a frustratingly conflicting combination that has her writhing at the lunch table because she's tired, hungry and on a diet because the choir has a concert next Monday and a tight black dress is the code. 

She didn't think her frown could droop any lower until she feels the bench beneath her wobble to the left and grinning lips come into focus. 

“I got tickets to see the Busan Tigers this Sunday,” he beams without waiting for her to ask because he knew she wouldn't because the grimace on her face tells him it's dieting season again and if he didn't talk first, she would.

Chaeyoung visibly cringes. “What's your point?” she asks even though she knows the answer. She's gone with him to a total of ten games, all of which she's spent in agonizing boredom because why on earth is this something people enjoy? A bunch of bulky, sweaty men tossing a ball back and forth for hours until someone messes up for the score to skew. She's never understood the appeal of sports, which comes as a shock to most because she's  so active. Key word: active, not athletic. There's a difference. She's the fastest runner in P.E, highly coordinated, but lacks the spirit to actually score a goal. Yoga is more her style. 

“You're coming with me.” 

“My , I am.”

“Come ooon,” he whines, shifting closer to rest his head on her shoulder. “I have three tickets and I can't let this last ticket go to waste.” Truthfully, he won it over a phone contest. But it would be a waste of both how valuable the ticket is and the amount of time he spent collecting, memorizing and typing numbers to win them. The game just so happened to be on the day everyone who actually liked baseball was busy - Bambam has a wedding to attend, Seokmin is celebrating two months with his girlfriend (and Jungkook wishes them congratulations though constantly wonders how on earth Lee Seokmin managed two months with a girl without breaking her), Yugyeom has some appointment (for what, Jungkook doesn't know because he had hung up the phone out of frustration the moment the boy said 'no'). 

“I can't go, I have to prepare for the concert.”

“Yeah, the next day. I don't get what the problem is, you're still gonna get to go. Why are you being so stubborn? I literally feel so attacked by the lack of good friends I have nowadays and just when I thought I could rely on my one childhood fr—”

“That's not the point! I need to perfect my vocals so my voice doesn't crack onstage, memorize a ing eight minute song and exercise so I don't sag in my dress. Can you stop being a self centered brat for just one second because the world doesn't revolve around you, do you GET THAT Jeon Jungkook?!” she screams in one huff, having him wide-eyed by the collar of his button-up shirt. For any sane guy in this position, on the verge of being choked to death by the hands of a cute girl in a messy bun, this would be a clear sign to back down. But Jungkook is unphased - a childhood filled with Chaeyoung on edge because he's done stupid has him immune.

As best as he can with his neck in her grip, his gaze drops to her feet before slowly and intently moving up her body until his eyes meet her tired, teary ones. She's still breathing shallowly from the outburst, and Jungkook thinks her red face can be attributed to a multitude of reasons - raising her voice in the cafeteria catching the attention of nearby students (they're still looking, he realizes, but she's both too embarrassed and angry to let go of his shirt), the pent up stress of extracurriculars, or the fact that he just casually eyed her body, taking note of the fact that she's always been so thin that he wonders how she isn't at all fragile.

“Exercise? What on earth are you trying to lose? Your life?” he chuckles until his breathing is cut off by her fingers around his neck, “I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'll stop.” He's still laughing when she takes her hands away and looks at him only half-apologetic.

“God, I hate you,” she sighs, pressing her palms to her face to shield the redness. 

You adore me - he wants to say, but now's not the time to keep poking the lion with a stick. He came here for a reason. “I can help you with your vocal practice.”

“What?” she quirks an eyebrow at him.

“I'll help you get your pitch right and monitor you for quality.”

“Monitor me for quality? I'm a singer not a toaster. And what do you know about pitch?”

“C'mon, we both know I can hit higher notes than you.”

“You're kidding, right?” she scoffs, “Jimin can hit higher notes than me, I'll admit that. But you strain so hard when you sing, I'm surprised you haven't busted a vein in your neck.” She feels bad about trudging on an obvious insecurity but the last thing she wants to do is his ego. He actually has a very pleasant voice - the prettiest she's ever heard in fact - one that's airy, smooth, and like her's minus the vibrato. 

He sarcastically gasps at her diss. “Fine, but that doesn't mean I can't help you. Please, let me help you so you can come to the game with us,” he pleads, and Chaeyoung is amused by how he straightforwardly offers up an exchange of favours to benefit himself. She wants to turn him down, stomp on the ticket because she has enough on her plate to fill her for the year (she wishes it could do the same for her empty stomach), but one look into his downturned eyes and she softens like a peach just like every time he asks her to play ODE with him when she's supposed to be studying or when she gives up the comfort of her bed because he wanted to sleep in her lap. It drives her crazy how malleable she is.

“Ugh, whatever,” she sighs, pretending not to see him grinning from ear to ear.

It seems to be enough to silence him until he reaches into her bag, the smile dissipating into utter confusion. “Chae, where are your pretzels?”

“My wha-? Oh.” The stress nearly makes her forget. She always brought a bag of pretzels to school (on insistence by her mom who thinks she doesn't pack enough in her regular lunch) but never eats them, so Jungkook habitually takes them off her hands. “I didn't bring them. I'm on a diet, remember?”

“For 's sake, Chaeng, you're on a diet not a hunger strike.”

She simply shrugs at him, which only serves to make him poutier because he's had a ty day (what with being rejected by all of his friends to go to the game and being scolded by the math teacher for handing in an assignment two months late) and her pretzels were the silver lining in his cloudy day. No, this won't do at all.

“What the hell are you doing?” she shrieks when he begins tugging on her arm, sliding her straight off the bench and onto her feet. 

“We're going to the convenience store,” he replies nonchalantly.

“Are you crazy?! Class starts in two minutes.”

“Doesn't matter,” he retorts, because he knows it's true. This is one of the calmer periods of the year, in which lectures are light and homework is reduced to exam revision. There isn't much to worry about, and he didn't care how much of a goody two shoes Chaeyoung happens to be - she needed to let loose a little anyway.

She quickly loses all resolve to fight him the moment they're out the door and off school property, wiggling out of his grasp. He flashes her a smug smile as they reach the entrance. He holds the door and gestures for her to walk in first because he's getting too much amusement out of teasing her for skipping class. Though it's definitely not the first time, it's a rare occurrence. The last time she did it, it was also for him - he had sprained his ankle running away from a teacher who caught him ditching fourth period math, stumbled into an alleyway and she was his emergency contact. He texted her to come in the middle of class, and for some reason (she still doesn't understand why) she excused herself and never came back. After a few incidences, she stopped crticizing his antics, and questions of “what the hell were you thinking?” soon turned into the expected, “where are we hiding this time?” because Jungkook is Jungkook, and he would do the same for her.

Jungkook makes a bee line for the snacks aisle, stocked with a wide variety of mouth watering snacks at cheap prices that would make any child or broke college student weak in the knees. Ah, how he loves this place. It's like a blown up version of the stash in his room (which changes every so often when his mom scolds him about it attracting ants). But despite the wide selection, Jungkook has eyes for just one thing - the salty treat encased in blue plastic with a small bunny in a top hat at the front (the real reason Chaeyoung always buys this brand).

“Do you want anything?” he asks after selecting a packet, but it's really a rhetorical question. She's going to furrow her brows and remind him that she's on a diet but it doesn't stop him from tossing her a bag of gummy bears, grabbing a loaf of bread off a shelf (why not? he thinks) and directing her to the cash register before she can fight him about it. 

They snack in a park far away from the school to lessen Chaeyoung's uneasiness about missing class. It doesn't take long for her to settle down because the weather is so nice - light wind, cool atmosphere, the sun bright but not intense as it illuminates the greenery surrounding them. It makes her (almost) glad that she decided not to stay cooped up in the classroom when she gets to see sights like this. She wonders if this is one of the perks Jungkook gets out of ditching.

He helps her practice her singing in his apartment because her's has been a complete mess this entire week (a shock to him, her parents, and herself because she's usually so diligent). This week in particular has been chaotic with the pressures of keeping her academics in line (she wants, needs to get into Yonsei University - everyone has complete faith that she can, being at the top of every class), staying in touch with her extracurriculars, and putting up with Jungkook on her back every ten seconds (he's been clingier than usual, she doesn't know why). 

“What's that smell?” she winces as she walks into his room, an extremely unpleasant odour invading her senses. Jungkook lives in garbage, she's aware of that, but he takes care of himself enough not to smell bad.

“Oh, that's Nugget.”

“What?”

She nearly screams when he reaches under his bed, hands coming out with the fattest, yellowest chicken she thinks she's ever seen in her life. It's beady eyes gawk at her, jagged legs frantically moving in a running motion as Jungkook keeps a firm grasp on it's squishy sides. Chaeyoung doesn't even know where to begin with him right now. All she can ask is, “why?”

“Well, after you left last time, I kept thinking about how much you love Snickles and then I realized that it gets really lonely around here.”

“But why a chicken?” she frowns, eyes still locked on the dazed fowl, still adjusting to the light. 

“I didn't want to go through the trouble of looking up shelters and signing papers so I went to a local farm instead.”

“And you named it Nugget?”

He nods, grinning as if shamelessly proud of himself. 

“Why is it so fat?”

“Excuse me, it's a she, if you could kindly refer to her,” he looks down at the bird, cocking it's head every few seconds, “I guess I do kind of over feed her but I can't help it. I've never done this before and she's so cuuuute.” He drags out the last word in a high pitched voice, imitating the way Chaeyoung talks to Snickles and laughing when she notices and kicks him in the shin.

Chaeyoung feels like she has enough evidence to report him to PETA at this point. “If you feed her any more, she's going to get diabetes and start laying chocolate eggs. Do your parents know about this?”

“Noope. And we're going to keep it that way.”

With the way this room smells, if his parents really never discover that he's hiding the bird version of an oompa loompa in his room, then she'll think miracles really do happen.  

They decide to move to the living room instead to escape the stench, and Jungkook is relatively quiet throughout her practice with a few comments here and there. He doesn't tell her that the real reason he doesn't critique her voice is for two reasons - one being that her voice is near damn perfect already, and the second being that he doesn't want to interrupt her when her singing is the most soothing sound he's ever heard in his life. Inversely, Chaeyoung tries to ignore the way his mouth opens slightly every few seconds and the way his eyes relax as they stare attentively into her's. She tries not to think of it as a distraction because the concert will be like a hundred sets of eyes on her, perhaps as entranced as he seems. The thought comforts her in a strange way.

Except the concert wouldn't have people with chickens in their lap - Chaeyoung notices that Nugget has settled atop his thighs, looking on with the same dazed (but much calmer) black eyes. It's taking everything in her not to burst out laughing at how Nugget captures Jungkook's exact expression in bird form. It's over much quicker than it would have been if Jungkook had been useful (not that Chaeyoung is complaining - she wants to get away from the chicken smell as fast as possible, take a hot shower and sleep because this week has been hell).

“So, how'd I do?”

Amazing, wonderful, he can't believe her voice is real. For a moment, it was like they were eight again and this was just something she did to calm him down after a long day. “A bit nasally, you could do better.” His chest tightens when she narrows her eyes and looks at the floor because really, he couldn't think of a better critique. Jungkook thinks her voice reminds him of cotton candy - sweet, airy, addictive. 

“Is that it?”

“Yep.” 

“Great, I'm exhausted. See you Sunday then, I'm going home,” she waves with a yawn, straightening out her bag as she starts to leave.

As he watches her walk towards the door, her scent wafts through the air again, and he still can't understand why he likes it so much. It's funny, really, because it hasn't changed since they were kids (except when she wears that perfume that he hates because he prefers citrus to artificial floral) but it's dawning on him now that it's his favourite smell.

“Chae,” he calls out as she reaches for the doorknob. She turns around, head tilted. “You did great,” he smiles, the most genuine one she's seen today, and she smirks back because she knows.

She turns again, and then stops because another question (an obvious one that she should've asked before but it was probably the exhaustion that clouded it) spontaneously popped into her head. “You said you had three tickets, right?”

“Yeah.”

“If I'm going and you're going, who gets the third ticket?”

“Jimin hyung.”

People at their school always talked about how Park Jimin and Park Chaeyoung could practically pass as long lost siblings, which made it both confusing and mildly disturbing the way everyone believed they'd make the perfect couple (is that what people are into these days? Jungkook had wondered). Even Jungkook couldn't deny the striking resemblence between the two whether it was in their full cheeks, their passion for music, or the way they both seemed to be ready to beat him up at any time.

“Two people so similar have to end up together,” Kim Jisoo, one of her friends from senior year had said to him when they ran into each other in the school's cafeteria. Jimin and Chaeyoung were exchanging flash cards at the table across from them, and they had specifically told Jungkook to stay away because he was distracting and couldn't care less about this stuff anyway so he left with a huff because jheeze you people aren't any fun.

“By what logic?” he muttered back with a face full of bread that made Jisoo mentally cringe.

“It's just obvious. Everyone can see it happening, even the teachers. Like do you think it's just a coincidence that Jimin and Chaeyoung sit next to each other every band practice?”

“They're seated alphabetically. They have the same last name,” Jungkook rolled his eyes at her delusion, yet somehow she managed to blab on.

“That doesn't explain how they're always glancing at each other, exchanging notes even though Jimin is in senior year, smiling at—” Jungkook doesn't know the end of that sentence because at that point, he had plugged in a pair of earbuds so deep he could feel the vibrations of Yuna's Escape against his skull. 

He hates that Jisoo was right. Only half right, but right enough to make Jungkook internally bitter. In the two years the three of them had been together, Jungkook started to notice the way Chaeyoung began to seem like the freaking sun to Jimin because every time she passed by in the hall, his eyes lit up and heat pooled to his plump cheeks. Yet Jimin never made the move even after Jungkook (unconvincingly) gave him the okay. 

“I think I still have feelings for Chae” he had confessed, and Jungkook's heart had sunk so fast for some inexplicible reason he couldn't believe how quick he forced himself to react. It was shock, he convinced himself, because Jimin had just dropped it on him like a grenade.

Jimin always looked at her like she was the sun - but when he sees her at the game, muttering out gentle excuse me's and sorry's as she shifts past the row of people to get to her seat, he looks at her like the sun is approaching earth at an alarming rate and he's about to get his face scorched off and it's all Jungkook's fault because—

“Why didn't you tell me that you invited Chaeyoung?!”

“It was last minute,” he says with a shrug and a mouth full of popcorn that makes Jimin flinch away. He really needs to stop doing that.

He wants to ask how it was 'last minute' if Chaeyoung doesn't look the slightest bit surprised to see him yet he's here completely caught off guard because this isn't what he planned for at all. Assuming Jungkook would bring one of his guy friends, Jimin had bought a six pack of beers for the three of them. He discreetly tucks the bottles under his seat with his foot as she takes her seat next to Jungkook, flashing him a friendly grin. She looks unusually happy for someone who had a tendency to complain about sports. 

“Hey, Jimin oppa.”

“I can't believe you agreed to come with him.”

“I wonder about that too.”

They look at each other with identical, playful smirks because if there's one thing they both know best, it's the mischievous kid between them that they'd do many things for yet don't know why they do it. Jungkook catches a glimpse of their eyes meeting and rolls his own. Jimin offers her a bite of his churros but before Chaeyoung can interject, Jungkook shouts, voice muffled by popcorn, “she's on a diet!!”

The difference is about two seconds, in between her eyes widening in disbelief and the colour of her cheeks deepening into a dark pink. Unable to do anyhing because they were in public and because Jungkook has already drawn attention to them, she sinks her head defeatedly into the protective warmth of her sweater. 

Jimin turns his head away from the two, hiding the smile on his face. He's really missed these two. 

In the midst of the game, Chaeyoung switches seats with Jungkook because there's an uncomfortable draft that even her sweater can't protect her from and he agrees without arguing (for once) because her seat had a centre view of the field anyway. Jungkook is immersed in the game within seconds of it starting whilst Chaeyoung looks on with indifference and wonders if inviting her was really any better than 'wasting a ticket' because quite frankly she doesn't care who wins or loses. Yet it's beyond intriguing to watch Jungkook's reaction in time with the game - his screams at every homerun or base reached, his chuckles at the opposing team missing a pitch, and every time he'd subconsciously give her thigh a gentle squeeze when he's nervous because the Tigers are falling behind. It's all strangely reminiscent of a teenage girl squealing over a romantic drama. 

Nonetheless, it doesn't stop her from being bored. She wishes she could understand how people found this so exhilarating - watching for what feels like forever for just one person to hit the ball, and even then most of those hits end up being fouls. Something about this game has people totally on edge - cursing, groaning, screaming... anxiously chewing on their pretzels that makes Chaeyoung more aware of how hungry she is. 

Jimin is usually pretty into baseball too, but he realizes twenty minutes into the game that he hasn't been focusing on anything but the pale, drained look on Chaeyoung's face. He offers a contrite smile and a sympathetic pat on the shoulder as she yawns a third time.

“Still not your thing, huh?”

She shakes her head, squinting from the sun beating down on them. Jimin tilts his head to look at Jungkook, then back at Chaeyoung's dreary eyes. “He's pretty into it, I bet I can sneak you out.”

“It's alright, I'll live. He'll probably scold me about it later.”

He doesn't press on, nodding in agreement, but he can't help but feel responsible somehow for her weariness. “Hey, how about we talk then?”

“Don't you wanna watch the game?”

“Nah, it's the same thing every time anyway. The Tigers are gonna lose and Jungkook is going to cry about it for a week and get over it. Like he does every time he gets a bad mark in maths.”

She giggles at the blatant truth of his words. “What do we talk about?”

He hums for a second, running ice breakers through his head - only a little odd considering they're more than well acquainted, but sometimes Jimin feels like there are things about Chaeyoung he doesn't know enough about (things he ultimately finds out through Jungkook). “How about two truths and a lie?” Even he has to admit it's an activity suited for a teenaged girl's slumber party (or for him, both an awkward and boring get-to-know-you activity the RAs had them do on their first day at university residence), but Chaeyoung doesn't mind. “Who goes first?”

“You go since you suggested it.”

“Alright, hmm,” he scratches his head, “I have an older brother. I cheated on my entrance exams to get into university, and... my voice once cracked during the biggest concert of senior year and I got so embarrassed I confronted Jungkook for advice and he almost convinced me to eat candle wax.”

“You don't have an older brother.” Her answer is immediate, without a single doubt or question of the other options and Jimin is genuinely amazed at how quickly she got it. 

“Really? That's not convincing but the candle wax and me cheating on the biggest exam of my life is?”

“The exam one I wasn't sure about but the last one sounded like something Jungkook would do,” she points out, “also you don't seem like the youngest child.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I have an older sister who studies abroad. When we were growing up, it seemed like she was forced to grow up a lot faster after I was born so she's always the one making sacrifices and acting wise. I think I see that in you.”

Cherry explodes in Jimin's cheeks and he realizes he's never thought about it that way before. He has a younger brother, a troublesome one whom he loves to pieces regardless of their quarrels. Then he had Jungkook, his younger best friend whom he's found himself more than once doing questionable things for the sake of. And next to him is someone who's always known exactly what that's like, and he feels like she's always been able to see right through him.

“I guess you're right,” he bites his lip, “your turn.”

Chaeyoung lifts her head up to the sky, running some facts through her head. In that minute of silence, her taking a bit longer than him to gather her thoughts because she feels like she doesn't even know herself that well at all, Jimin considers that she might have gotten bored already. To his relief, she pipes up at last.

“Okay, okay, I got it,” she turns back to him, clapping her hands together, “my first part-time job at a café, I accidentally spilled hot coffee on a homeless man who asked for water.”

Jimin nods, letting out a breathy laugh at the fact that it's totally something he can imagine sixteen-year-old Chaeyoung doing and then crying about after because she felt horrible. He can even imagine her quitting the job right after because of the overwhelming guilt every time she stepped back into the café. He's secretly always admired her hyperempathy - it was charming, most notably during the time he tripped over her guitar case in the hallway in his hurry to catch a bus, broke his ankle, and spent his stay in the hospital with Chaeyoung sobbing over his bed and pleading him to forgive her even though he had assured her several times it wasn't her fault.

She continues, “As a child, I thought babies were made when a boy and a girl slept in the same bed so the first time I woke up next to Jungkook who snuck into my room to take a nap with me, I cried because I thought I'd be pregnant.”

A brief laugh tears through his calm expression at the thought. He feels like he'll lose this game unless the third confession is totally out of character. Jungkook momentarily turns around to hush him (the whole stadium is booming with screams and cheers, neither know how their conversation is interfering), and Chaeyoung responds by mockingly sticking her tongue out at him before turning back to finish. 

“When Jungkook and I were in pre-school, we used to watch a lot of disney movies. My favourite was Sleeping Beauty so I made him watch it with me, and he liked it too. So one night when I was sleeping, he tried to kiss me to wake me up, and I did. After that, I was convinced that Jungkook was my one true love because I believed disney movies reflected real life,” she tells him with a dreamy smile that makes his heart jump and face flush dark red.

He's glad that it's loud in the stadium right now because in total silence, he's almost certain she would be able to hear how loudly his heart is pounding in his chest out of unexplained embarrassment. Truthfully, he has no idea what the lie is, because he can totally picture the first two, while the third has him stumped because God knows what kind of weird went on in their childhood - he's only known them as the strange teens who are always together, always bickering. He doesn't know why he's so flustered at the innocent image of two children reenacting fairytales, perhaps because he can't imagine their past, only knowing them for the grown people they are today with a relationship he doesn't entirely understand. Chaeyoung had said it so casually, he doesn't know whether it indicates a lie or if he's the only one getting shy over an anecdote.

For a moment, he doesn't know if he even wants to know what the truth is.

The strangest coincidence happens right as the last thought crosses his mind - one of the Tigers finally makes a strike on the ball with such force that it goes flying above the heads of all the opposing players hurriedly running to catch it. But the ball doesn't land on the field, going straight towards the crowd of fans screaming and raising excited hands up to get even a graze. Chaeyoung realizes with a squeal at the very last second that the ball is shooting right towards Jungkook's face. Instinctively, she spreads an arm out across his chest, forcefully pushing him back against his seat as her other hand comes up - her fingers curl around the ball as it hits her palm with a loud clap.

All eyes turn their way before the stadium erupts with cheers, applause, and groans from people who missed it flying overhead.

“And a nice catch from the young lady in the white sweater!” the MC shouts enthusiastically into his microphone. 

Jungkook's face finally bounces back into view after a minute of processing what the hell just happened and why his life just flashed before his eyes in the form of Chaeyoung elbowing him in the chest. “What the hell, Chae?!” he shouts, shoving her back into her own seat.

“What?” she glowers.

“You just stole my chance at catching a Busan Tiger ball! What's wrong with you?! I thought you didn't like sports!”

“Excuse me? In what world did you have a chance at 'catching' that ball when it was coming straight for your face? You have the instincts of a ing sloth and you're going to yell at me for saving your face from getting smushed?!”

“My hands would have come up to catch it if you didn't flop over me like a ing whale before I could!”

“Oh my god, I can't even with you anymore. Why are you like this? I go out of my way to come to the most awfully boring place in the world second to your apartment and you have the audacity—”

“Guys, guys,” Jimin struggles to grab their attention over their screams, face slowly starting to darken again with secondhand embarrassment. “Guys, calm down, please. People are watching.” Neither of them hear a single word that slips past his lips, too occupied with yelling obscenities at each other.

Of the three of them, not a single one notices the mascot - Busan Tiger's mascot, "Lang Lang" the blue tiger in a jersey, run up and down the stairs of the stadium, shouting out a message for the audience. Jimin doesn't hear a thing that Lang Lang says over the high pitched screaming of his friends, now completely fuming. He feels like a child in a dysfunctional family caught in the midst of a parental feud during a baseball game. He only catches onto a few insults exchanged before a loud chime rings over the sound system before the upbeat, bubblegum pop music starts to play. An array of geometric shapes and vibrant colours flash across the screen, followed by the overly zealous voice of the MC.

“And now ladies and gentlemen, it's time to see who will be the lucky couples on today's KISS CAM!”

“—you know what? I'm glad you're on a diet. You nearly crushed me back there!”

“At least I can hit notes above E4 when I sing!”

The screen goes black for a nanosecond, then flashes back on with a pink heart bordering around the image of what the swiveling camera above the stadium is capturing. In another second, it finally focuses on one pair in amidst the crowds of people. Jimin feels like his heart is dangling on a thread, eyes widening as he swallows hard because , , , this is bad. On the big screen, in front of tens of thousands of people, the image of a quarreling Jungkook and Chaeyoung appears in high definition. 

“KISS CAM!” the MC's voice is blaringly loud this time to catch their attention.

Jimin sees the two freeze mid-sentence, watching their jaws slowly unhinge, eyes widen, and their cheeks flush a colour so dark Jimin thinks they may bleed out of their pores. Childish rage instantly turns to panic and overwhelming embarrassment as Chaeyoung claps a hand over and emits a tiny squeal. For some reason all Jimin can think about is her last confession - ‘he tried to kiss me to wake me up’. If they've kissed before, would it still be awkward? But they're no longer children, of course it would be. But it could also be a lie. Why am I thinking about this now? he wonders.

Looking at the horrified expressions on their face, Jimin feels two emotions at once - relief (strangely) because it really does seem like they've never done anything like this before, but also a similar panic because he has no idea how to help them. The crowd surrounding cheers them on, a lot more peer pressure-y than friendly enthusiasm. “Kiss her! Kiss her! Kiss her!” they chant like a mantra.

Jungkook and Chaeyoung are still looking straight at each other with red stained cheeks and violently thrumming heartbeats. He doesn't know what overcomes him - the chanting, the unanswered confession, the sight of his two best friends at risk of a friendship potentially going wrong - but he acts on it quicker than he can think. He grabs onto her shoulders, turning her around to face him, and a split second later their lips are pressed together. It's not a kiss that lingers, more like a two second peck before Jimin pulls away, making a 180 turn away from her because he's burning up and also because he's reluctant to see the look on her face, even less so Jungkook's.

The crowd briefly screams in triumph until the camera pivots over to the next unsuspecting pair. 

For the remainder of the game, the three sit in utter silence, not one daring to look the other in the eye. Jimin thinks now that he prefers their arguing over this.

The Busan Tigers win the game but Jungkook walks out of the stadium pale faced and not a hint of the overwhelming joy that Jimin and Chaeyoung expected in his features (not that they could blame him). He excuses himself to go to the bathroom the moment they reach the snack bar and the other two agree to wait for him outside. 

Jungkook seems to take forever in there, and Jimin contemplates checking on him, only to second guess himself at the thought of the possible conversation they'd have alone in there. So he tolerates the agonizing silence with Chaeyoung a little longer, stealing small glances, exchanging reassuring smiles because he knows they're both concerned. In the back of his mind, he forces himself to suppress the memory of the kiss, but there are so many questions running rampant in his head. How did Chaeyoung react? He doesn't know because he never looked back. More importantly, was Jungkook okay? It's been such a touchy topic since high school that he's dodged every time. There was no running from it back there. Jimin inwardly shivers at the guilt coursing through him - there really isn't any reason to be, but for some reason it feels like he's just stabbed his best friend in the back (with a fork rather than a knife because what the hell kind of situation even is this?).

“Oppa.”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for saving us back there,” she says, looking down at her feet, “I knew you were trying to help, it was just really unexpected.”

“Sorry about that, I just...” he rubs the back of his neck, “I panicked because you two looked like you were going to faint.”

“I honestly would have,” she giggles, nervously rubbing her arm. 

There's a pause - Jimin can't stop himself from wondering what would have happened if he hadn't intervened. In the dim, flickering near broken light above the bar, Chaeyoung's soft, simple beauty that he's always silently appreciated is more apparent than he's ever seen. He feels his chest grow heavy again, thinks about the fleeting kiss (the softness of her lips, the faint taste of citrus left behind), that burning in his face that night on the ferris wheel, and the little details about her that makes his heart flutter. He thinks back to the conversation with Jungkook that night - his half-hearted approval at Jimin's confession. There's a quote - he doesn't remember from where or whom - that sounds in his mind: “The biggest risks are the ones you don't take.”

“Chaeyoung...” he breathes steadily, “you have a concert coming up tomorrow night, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Would it be alright if I dropped by and watched?”

The bright smile she gives him is so stunning that it hurts, “Of course.”

Jungkook follows her home that night (she doesn't ask why because it's just one of those nights again) except this time an uncomfortable air surrounds them. He trails silently behind her in the ink black darkness, the street lamps providing just enough light to carefully step over potholes; earbuds plugged in but no music playing. When they reach the door, she doesn't open it; instead, she turns around to yank the buds out of his ears, which doesn't do anything to get a reaction from him. He stares at the door behind her with a vacuous face.

“What's up with you?” she crosses her arms and looks up straight in the eyes to get his attention.

“What do you mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean. First you try to fight me at the game and then you follow me home completely deadpan. What's up with you?”

“Well, I mean, you kissed my best friend.”

“Are you ing serious?”

“Yeah, I am,” he raises his voice, startling her and breaking out of his lifeless facade within seconds, “that was so weird what happened back there. How do you think I felt watching you two? I can't get the image out of my head, I'm pretty sure this is what child trauma feels like.”

“What are you, twelve? He just did it so we wouldn't have to. He saved our asses, Jungkook, at least thank him for it.”

He doesn't answer, but somehow the way his eyes pierce straight through her's speaks volumes about his discomfort. She's never seen him look so sullen. Wordlessly, she pulls her keys out of her bag, unlocking the door and letting him step through first. An awkward, tension filled night is about to ensue - she only hopes it doesn't interfere with her performance tomorrow.

Monday night takes forever to come - it seems to arrive slower than usual because her mind is clustered with all sorts of anxieties. She's memorized the songs, adjusted her vocals, and is satisfied with her appearance in the tight fitting dress that she's tried on about a hundred times just to be sure everything is fine. She only wishes she could get a second opinion, but Jungkook still refuses to utter a word to her. 

“Are you upset with me?” she asks, sitting next to him on her bed. It's unusual to find him here instead of the living room. 

He doesn't respond even though he isn't currently doing anything, just sitting amidst her pillows and stuffed animals while staring vacantly at the beige washed walls. His expression isn't particularly bitter, just impartial. 

She bites her lip, “I'm leaving for the concert in two minutes, do you at least have any last minute advice for me?” As expected, he remains mute, and she groans through a sigh. If she didn't have to leave, she'd continue pestering him until he cracks. “Fine, don't talk to me. Just don't eat all my pudding in the fridge. I made you kimchi stew in the fridge if you get hungry.” She outwardly cringes at how much she sounds like a mom, which luckily he doesn't see because he doesn't turn to look at her.

When she finally leaves, Jungkook sinks into the warm bedsheets with a dragged out sigh, rolling himself into a cushioned burrito. In truth, he feels bad about his ill temper, but his stubbornness is the wall that prevents him from saying anything - from telling her that he knows it isn't her or Jimin's fault that he nearly choked on air at the unexpected move his friend made. There's this part of himself that wants to thank Jimin for removing him from such a conflicting situation, while the other - the part that he catches sometimes staring at her lips when she sings and wondering why everything is starting to remind him of her as if she's died and come back to haunt him in the form of citrus perfume and kimchi stew - wants to strangle him. It's irrational and he knows it because he's already given Jimin the green light (not that he had to, but he did) to do whatever because why would he care?

He doesn't, he convinces himself. Perhaps it's just the strangeness of picturing his friends together - he's never taken issue with any of Chaeyoung's past boyfriends (granted, she's only had two - both during middle school, a much simpler time before these inexplicible thoughts began to bubble up in his head).

Minutes later, he finds himself in the kitchen, rummaging quietly through her fridge. Her parents are out of town but Snickles is fast asleep in his living room bed. As mentioned, there's a small pot of kimchi stew covered in plastic wrap in the fridge with a sticky note attached: I made this for you. I hope you're not still mad at me by the time I get home. It's really weird when you're so quiet, you know that? Whatever is upsetting you, I wish you would talk to me about it. I'm sorry about the outburst at the game yesterday... and what happened with Jimin. Anyway, we can talk (hopefully) later. Feel better, Kookie. Love, Chaengoo. ♡

Something between a grimace and a smirk spreads across his face before letting out a soundless laugh. When it's worded like that, he becomes so painfully aware of the ridiculousness of it all. He isn't mad, just insanely confused to the point of being frustrated. It occurs to him in this moment how much he wants to hear her voice again, to see that twinkle in her eyes when she sings. 

Instead of reaching for the pot in the fridge, he gently closes the door as he reaches into his pocket for his phone to call an uber. There's no way he's falling asleep tonight without hearing her voice.

“Chaeyoung, calm down, you're going to do fine,” Jimin makes multiple attempts to reassure her, watching her pace back and forth backstage, trembling with nervousness. He knows the feeling all too well - the sudden anxiety that hits you right when you think things are going smoothly, but he partly still wonders what she even had to be nervous about. She's damn near perfect, from her vocals to the dress that looks so stunning on her, nobody would really even notice if she messes up. 

“I don't know what's gotten into me,” she says, pressing her palm to her forehead with a shaky breath.

“Just breathe, Chae, c'mon.” He places both hands on her shoulders to steady her then begins to breathe deeply himself to guide her. He's had his share of backstage panic attacks - some so bad they turned him fidgety during performances - so he knows a few calming methods. Tensing one's body to relieve pressure usually does the trick for him - yet he's surprised to find that even after five minutes of deep breathing and hard tensing, Chaeyoung pulls away with the same frantic eyes and shallow breaths. 

“I'm scared, it's not working. I can't—”

“You can. You will. I've seen you perform so well at every other concert, this one won't be any different. The crowd is going to be just as blown away by your voice as every crowd has been up until this point. Stop doubting yourself,” he says softly, tenderly  her hair because it's something he wishes someone would have done for him in his time of distress (he didn't blame them though, it was a little weird). 

His words - no matter how genuine or reassuring, do little to soothe her nerves. Something feels indescribably off, she doesn't know what, but it leaves a gaping feeling in her. Where did this instability come from? 

“Park Chaeyoung, we're up in five minutes,” Jooyeon, one of her choir members reminds, to which she nods, trying to look composed but she thinks the weakness in her knees gives everything away.

“, Jimin, I can't do it. I can't, I can't. I'm going to burst,” she panics, hands clinging to the silky material of his blazer. Droplets of tears are forming in the corner of her eyes when she looks up at him and he gulps nervously because he doesn't know where to begin. There's so little time that he feels any moment he's going to start panicking as well with how distressed she is. 

Right when he feels like it's the right time to bring her into a hug to calm her down, there's a loud, metallic sounding crash sounds from the backstage entrance, startling everyone standing by. It's followed by muffled yelling, cursing, and a faint “sorry, excuse me, I need to see someone,” before a slightly lightheaded Jungkook stumbles backstage with a wide grin when he sees them. “Hyung! Chaengoo!” he shouts, immediately getting shushed by several people because there's a performance going on out front. “There you guys are!” As usual, he ignores the complaints of the people around him.

“What are you doing here? I thought you didn't want to come,” Jimin raises a brow.

“I didn't, and then I did,” he shrugs like it's the simplest thing in the world, even as Chaeyoung and Jimin gawk at him in disbelief. His appearance somehow cuts right through the wound up tension that existed just a few seconds ago. “So when are you going up?”

“Three minutes, Chaeyoung!” the same girl calls out again as she walks by, indirectly answering his question.

“, we have to take our seats then,” he looks at Jimin, “hyung, what are you still doing back here? I was looking for you out front.”

Jimin's teeth sink into his bottom lip, glancing shyly at Chaeyoung, then back at Jungkook. “I was just helping her with her pitch,” he improvises.

“Ahhh, still nervous about that? I'll take it from here, hyung, you go take your seat.”

Jimin's face scrunches in confusion, “what? She has like two minutes left.”

“Trust me, I'm an expert at this,” he retorts as he begins pushing his older friend towards the exit, sending him off with a pat on the shoulder. Jimin doesn't bother further questioning him, and nods with a sigh before he leaves.

When he turns back to Chaeyoung, her face is contorted in absolute puzzlement. Of all the strange things Jungkook has done, showing up to a concert he consistently expressed zero interest in after giving her the silent treatment for a straight twelve hours is beyond even him. The nerve of him should irritate her, but it felt like an enormous weight had been lifted from her the moment his face came into view - she doesn't think she can complain at all.

“You're not serious about helping me with my pitch, are you?”

“Of course not,” he steps closer, hands shoved deep into his sweatpant pockets, “I wanted to apologize. I'm really not mad at you, I was just in shock.”

“For twelve hours?”

“It sounds stupid but yeah, I didn't know what to think when I saw what I did yesterday. I'm sorry I was an afterwards but I'm not good at figuring out my emotions, you know?”

She grins, because she does. Jeon Jungkook is an enigma with repressed feelings that she's sometimes fortunate enough to catch a glimpse of.

“One minute, Park. Less talk, more readying,” Jooyeon pipes up for the last time before disappearing completely into the change room. 

“Ah, I guess I have to go then,” he eyes her one last time, taking in how well the dress she's wearing complements her body. There's a sort of pride welling up inside him at how hard she's prepared for this concert, how much it meant to her, and in spite of it all, she made room for him like she always does. Looking her in the eyes, he says, “you're going to be amazing up there, I know you are. You never disappoint, Chae. You don't need it, but I'm going to wish you luck anyway.” He wraps his arms around her shoulders, bringing her into a tight embrace that makes the blood rush to her cheeks, “good luck,” he whispers into her ear finally, pulling away with a coy smile when he sees the blush creeping onto her face.

He's gone before she can react, his smile never faltering even as he reaches his seat. 

In a crowd of hundreds of faces - some familiar, some not - there's one face that reduces the crowd down to one pair of eyes in a setting that isn't so intimidating in her eyes. When her solo begins, the crowd seems to vanish entirely when her eyes meet a pair that seems to glisten and sparkle. The heaviness in her chest dissipates in short stages - when she sees his eyes on her, when the toothy smile on his face grows with every passing second, and when his presence is all she can see, plucking her right out of the choir and into the calm atmosphere of their childhood; where Jungkook begs her to sing for him every night to put him to sleep.

“She's doing so well,” Jimin whispers, more to himself but loud enough for Jungkook to hear. He's beyond amazed at the confidence Chaeyoung managed to regain in a matter of minutes, wondering if it's simply adrenaline that pulled her back. He turns his head to face Jungkook, who hasn't responded to his comment because he's too immersed in Chaeyoung's solo even though he's heard it before.

As much as he adored the sound of her voice in the comfort of her apartment, seeing her like this is more than a pleasant change. The stage seems like her second home - the lights illuminating her fair skin and silky hair, the live instrumentals working in harmony with her voice, the smile that graces her lips when she hits the highest note in the piece, sparking brief applause from the dazzled audience. Still, it feels like it's just the two of them there, and that she's singing to him (he swears, her eyes wander to him more than once, or perhaps he's being delusional).

When her solo is over, Jimin nudges him in the shoulder, finally grabbing his attention. “We're good, right?” he asks with a small, questioning smile.

“We were never not good.”

“You sure about that?”

“Yeah.”  

“You know I'd never do anything you weren't okay with.”

“I know, hyung,” Jungkook flashes him a genuine, apologetic smile that's enough to satisfy his worry. 

They watch the show come to a close attentively, their awestruck faces mirroring one another as they look at the one person they could both agree shines the brightest on that stage. Just as the curtains start to close, Jimin catches Chaeyoung's eyes on him, mouthing a silent thank you, oppa, with a soft smile on her features that makes his heart melt and face flush. 

Next to him, Jungkook doesn't catch the small gesture as his eyes are closed, soaking in what he can't believe he could have missed if he hadn't come. He exhales a long, content sigh, slumping into the cushiony seat beneath him. This is nothing compared to the soft, warmth of being cushioned by her thighs and encompassed by her citrusy scent - but her melodic, airy voice is still ringing in his ears along with the orchestra.

Yes, Jungkook knows he'll sleep well tonight. 

A/N: Yikes, this update took forever but it's extra long for compensation lol (it's a little angsty-er than I intended but development works best that way). So some things I want to get out there:
1. I know a lot of you who subscribed to this also subscribed to "Nothing Like Us" - another Rosekook fic that I wrote but, if you didn't know already, it's gone. I've decided to scrap the idea due to an underdeveloped plot (I thought I'd be ready to go for it but I second guessed myself). I'm very sorry for those of you looking forward to that one BUT I have loads of Rosekook fics planned out that I'm more certain can actually be executed and completed so keep an eye out for those.
2. In 2011, I started a facebook page for KaiStal (back when hardly anyone shipped it and I was lucky enough to get even 40 supporters) that's now at 12K+ likes. After KaiStal, I didn't think there'd be a m/f ship that I genuinely liked but I think Rosekook is the one. So I made THIS page for those of you who want updates on the ship (moments/edits/little facts - not just on Rosekook but on BP and BTS). Also here's a tumblr page for edits and stuff: LINK
3. The next update for this will come soon (as it's not as monstrously long lmao).

Until next time, thank you for reading. <3