A knock came on the door.

"Come in," Obama said. The door opened and one of Obama's secretaries came in with more paperwork. "Put it down over there."

It was a long day. 

In the evening, Obama arrived home. Michelle was not there. A hot dinner was not there. This is not the life I deserve.

He the radio and put on some jams. He then went to the kitchen and made himself a cup of coffee as preparation for his late-night Korean drama marathon. While the coffee was heating, he retrieved some bread from the fridge and spread it with some jams.

Jimin's jams. Jimin ain't got no jams, because Obama has them. The jams of Jimin. Jams that had originally belonged to Jimin. Jimin's jams. But I digress.

But those were not the only jams. Obama had collected all sorts of jams. It's just that Jimin's jams were his favorite. You know why? Because he had received them as a gift from none other than just one of his secret lovers: Taemin.

-------------------------------------------

Taeman had relinquished that name. He was a man, not a min. He was no miniature or minimum or whatever else "min" can be supposed to mean. It was a cage. It trapped him like a cage would. All he wanted was to be free, like the Declaration of Independence, released from captivity by none other than Nicholas Cage. How ironic. A Cage saving a poor soul from a cage. Yes.

-------------------------------------------

The night was deep. So deep, bruh.

Obama was pacing around his house in short circles. Cup of coffee in one hand. Bread with jam in the other. And his favorite newspaper in another. 

He paused for a moment when he reached the life-like painting of Taemin painted by Leonardo Da Caprio framed on his entire wall. 

"Why was I so silly. I made one mistake, and now you're gone..."

It was the mistake that Obama regretted the most. His hunger for jams had overwhelmed him.

"Taemin-oppa was going to give me his recently looted jams as a gift anyway. It was a gift. Those jams are rightfully mine."..."No, I have to stop that kind of thinking. Those are not my jams. This is why he left."

Obama was struggling internally. He needed jams. But were those jams worth more than his love for Taemin-oppa?