Point Of View: Jeong Jungkook

Word Count; 1740

        Carefully fixing my tie, I stare at myself in the dirtied mirror. My uniform is clean and freshly pressed, curteousy of Seokjin Hyung. Even though I hate it, uniforms are a mandatory thing in all of South Korea. I lean forward, messing with my bangs. Every angle looks terrible: I'm just having a bad day. First, I woke up an hour late and my Hyungs didn't even bother waking me up. Next, I ran out of hair gel and so my hair sticks out awkwardly in multiple areas. I stayed up late the night before working on a new dance practice and then studying for a test I have in third period today and so there are large, accented bags under my eyes. Even trying to cover them up with some cream didn't help at all. I frown miserably at my reflection and slouch my shoulders childishly, "HYUUUNG, can't I just stay home?"

        Seokjin pops his head into the bathroom, waving around a spatula in a 'no-funny-business' motherly way. "No. You have a mandatory test today, remember?" He leaves without letting me reply or make up a teenaged excuse on why I don't have to go. I sigh loud enough for him to poke his head back in. Instead of speaking, he just gives me the fatherly ‘I ain’t taking your bull’ kind of way so I back down; he’s not going to budge.

            I make sure to pack all my books into my square and boring backpack. It’s depressing, wearing the same clothes as everyone, learning the same thing as everyone, talking to the same people every days—it’s repetitive. I prefer wearing what I feel like that day. Learning what is relevant to my life. Talking to who I want to talk to. Why should I learn about quadratic equations and how the Earth revolves around the sun if it doesn’t apply to me in any way? Oh, I remember—it’s because I’m a minor and I have to do what the majors want me to do even if we don’t harmonize nicely.

            Yoongi-hyung comes in, still asleep and drinks a glass of water. He looks at me, checks out my outfit and then chuckles sarcastically. “Haha.” Mean-Hyung tells me before scuffling back into his bed. I hear him snoring the moment he hits the covers.

            “Even if you’re late,” Seokjin tells me, bringing over some breakfast, “You should eat or you’ll just have a bad day.” I smile in thanks and pick up the chopsticks. Pushing things around, I try to let things cool before taking a bite.

            I spit it out almost immediately, “Hyung!” The salt, oh god, so much salt. Drinking the water, I spit that out too. Soap. Someone is trying to sabotage my breakfast. I hear a snicker and watch as Taehyung-hyung steps out of the room all nonchalantly. “Why?” I ask loudly.

            He walks over and places a broken anime figurine in front of me on the table. “This.” I think the character’s name is Mikasa or something like that—a piece of her scarf has been broken away. “You knocked her down. My baby. How could you!?” Taehyung pretends to cry into his arm, “She’s my wife! How could you ruin her?”

            I sigh, “I’ll buy you a new one.”

            This causes him to look highly offended, “You can’t just buy me a new one!” His hands are thrown around the air and he paces as he talks, “This is limited edition Mikasa. This is Mikasa using her 3D maneuver gear with flying blood droplets and see this,” The otaku shoves the figurine into my face, pointing at a painted reflection on a gorey looking blade, “This is the Eren’s Titan Form’s reflection! They only sold a few hundred of these! I paid months in advance and you just knocked her down!”

            I watch as the crazy Hyung as he lays slowly on the floor, curling up around his figurine. I don’t even bother asking if he’s okay because he’s clearly not. He rocks back and forth, obviously still half asleep—either that or half insane.

Probably both.

            Seokjin comes over, slightly kicking the crying man, “How dare you ruin my food!”

            He’s not even concerned about me, maybe now is my time to slip away.

            --

            Getting to school is a regular routine. I sit in the car with my manager, earbuds in and quietly watching the world go by. It rains today. Not that pretty, heavy pour kind of rain. This is the drizzly, making my hair go frizzy, kind of rain. It’s absolutely terrible. It fogs up the glass and sends a chill to run down my spine.

            The ride is a blur and completely uneventful. My manager is seemingly half asleep the entire time, closing his eyes half way at red lights and yawning every time traffic slows. I watch him carefully, not wanting to go to the hospital for a car crash. He catches me staring and glances over at me quickly before sitting up taller, “What?”

            I shake my head and turn back to the window, “Nothing.”

            --

            We pull up to the school’s parking lot and I sight heavily. Going to school means dealing with fangirls who don’t know personal space, boys who befriend me because of my popularity and teachers who treat me like I’m someone special. Sometimes, I long for the days when I blended into the background and went to internet cafes with my friends. I only have a couple of middle school friends I trust completely, which is depressing to say the least. Shaking my head, I try to rid myself of the negativity. What am I saying? I get to work with six of the coolest people I’ve ever met and perform songs and dances on stage. It’s a dream come true. I nod, a couple of fangirls won’t hurt.

            When I step out of the car, already a few people come to crowd me. “Jeon Jungkook-ah!” A girl says, “Where have you been? You’ve missed so much!” She pulls out a notebook with little stickers plastered on the cover. “Here, I took notes for you in Algebra.”

            I bow graciously and smile, “Thank you…” Oh damn I forgot her name, “It means a lot that you were thinking about me.” She brightens dramatically, blushing softly.  At least she doesn’t know I can’t remember who she is.

            My middle school friend comes running up to me, pushing the girls out of the way. “Hey! Jungkook!” He places an arm around my neck and pulls me close, ruffling my hair. “I missed you man!” Thankfully, he pulls me away from the girls and leads me down the hallways. We walk loudly, talking about everything that’s happened in the last few weeks I haven’t been to school. “I think I’m in love~” He says with a wistful look, throwing his arms open.

            I chuckle at his display; he’s always been the more outgoing one of us two, “Who is it this time?”

            “Ya!” He punches my arm, “This time, I’m serious! She’s a transfer student.”

            “Oh yeah?” I say skeptically, he always falls in and out of ‘love’ quickly. “Did you see…?” I wave my hand in front of my face, mentioning the colours.

            He coughs lightly before nervously rubbing the back of his neck, “I’ve been too nervous to introduce myself…”

            I shake my head, “Come on man! You can’t say she’s the one if you don’t know!”

            He jumps in front of me, holding my hands up to his chest. I am taken aback by his suddenly touch; he’s too touchy-feely sometimes. “I was waiting for you. My wing man. My second in command. My partner in crime.” My friend looks down, blushing in embarrassment; a rare display by one so open. “My back up so I don’t feel nervous.”

            “Alright man. What class do you have her with?”

            “Vocals! See, you and me have that together so it won’t be awkward!”

            “Casual?”

            “Exactly!”

            We continue walking to our vocals class and I get curious about this girl, “So you said she’s a transfer student. What district is she from?”

            “Iowa.”

            “America!?” My voice bounces off the walls and I lower the tone, “She’s American?”

            “Yeah! But her Korean is very good!”

            “Is she Korean-America?”

            “No. She’s white. She’s so pale, ah,” He places a hand on his chest, “She’s beautiful!”

            We walk into our class and before I could sit down in my seat, I see an unfamiliar silhouette sitting where I normally sat. Her long hair is slightly wavy and a dark colour. I admire her long, pale legs as she sits with them placed together in a feminine way. She holds a Korean version of Harry Potter in her hands and softly moves along with the words she reads. Rolling my shoulders back, I get ready to go talk to such a pretty girl when my friend holds me back. “That’s her!” He says, pointing to the pretty foreigner.

            My heart drops, I can’t take her away from him; he’s my closet friend. Instead, I step aside and let him take the lead, “Whenever you’re ready.”

            He nods with excitement, walking over to the girl. “Hi! I don’t think I’ve introduced myself yet.”

            The girl looks up and I can now clearly see her foreign features. She has large, round dark eyes and a tall nose bridge. Her lips are plush and slightly opened as she looks up to my nervous friend. They catch eyes and I see his shoulders visibly slump forward. She smiles at him in a friendly way, “I’m Rhylee.” Flawless Korean. Oh man, she’s so cool.

            She must sense my stare of admiration and looks over to me, her eyelashes fluttering calmly. As we make eye contact, I notice there is a lighter rim of brown closer to her pupil. Her dark brown hair frames her pale skin. I watch as her already round eyes, round out even more. “Whoa.” Rhylee whispers softly.

            I pull up a chair beside her, afraid to look away from the blue uniformed girl. “Hi. I’m Jeon Jungkook.” My hand reaches out to her and she takes it in a bewildered handshake.

            “Rhylee Sinclair. Nice to meet you.” Her voice is barely a whisper.

            “You too.” I smile slowly, “You have the prettiest brown eyes.”

             She laughs quietly, “Thank you.”