Italics = Memories

Life is a .

Life hates him.

That’s what Jungkook’s thinking as he watches Taehyung feeding Jimin pudding and pinching his nose.

The warm vacation nights and endless days of freedom have, thus, ended, starting a new school year. Jungkook now attends the same college as his hyungs, having rejected the prospect of moving to Seoul.

“Jungkook,” Jimin says, getting the boy’s attention. “Why are you stabbing your chicken leg with a fork?” Jimin opens his mouth and accepts another spoon of pudding. Students around them are pointing and gushing at how the two friends make a cute couple.

Jungkook isn’t so hungry anymore. Pushing the tray to the side, he excuses himself.

“Jungkook, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Life’s a . That’s all.” He waves off, turning his back on his hyungs.

Jungkook manages to set a distance of a few feet before hearing, “Jiminie hyung!” Jungkook stops. He knows that voice. It’s the voice of the devil. Freaking Jongup.

Life really is a to Jeon Jungkook.

In the quiet comforts of the library, Jungkook has chosen a table far from the others, building a barrier between him and the world. He’s reading a textbook for his science class.

Jungkook has chosen to follow in his dad’s footsteps and become a cardiologist. He’s the only one among the group to have followed in their parent’s footsteps. Jimin is working on his business degree as well as getting his teaching credentials. Taehyung is a nursing major; a shocking surprise for many, but if one thinks about it, Taehyung is incredibly caring, especially towards Jimin. And Hoseok and Namjoon, both fourth years, are performing art students. Yoongi had majored in performing arts, as well. Jin was a culinary art student.

Someone takes the seat across from Jungkook. He doesn’t bother to check who it was, as he’s fully immersed in his studies. The unwelcomed guest says nothing, does nothing, but waits for Jungkook to take note of his presence. Five minutes passed, and the stranger chucks a pencil at Jungkook.

Slamming his book, Jungkook takes a good look at the rude person, only to find his alien hyung. “How mature of you,” he grits his teeth.

“How mature of you to treat your hyung like this.” Taehyung’s deep voice resonates in Jungkook’s ear.

Sighing, Jungkook asks him, “What do you want? If you haven’t noticed-” pointing to the textbook “-I’m busy.”

“You brat. Listen here. I know that you like Jimin. It’s pretty obvious with the way you’ve been possessive with him. News flash: You don’t own him.” Taehyung sighs, leaning back in his chair. He swears he’s getting a headache just from having Jungkook in his presence. “He belongs to me."

Jungkook squints his eyes. "You aren't much of a formidable opponent."

"And why not?! I'm his best friend! Between you and me, Jimin would obviously pick me." Taehyung crosses his arms.

"So you like Jiminie?"

"Ew, no. Sorry not sorry, but Chim Chim is not my type. He's more like your type. Someone you can boss around."

Jungkook pouts. "I don't boss Jimin around!"

"Last week, you told him to buy you sushi; and you threatened that you would draw s on his favorite plushie if he didn’t!"

"That wasn't me! That was you!"

"... Oh, right ... Ha ha ha ... Anyways, I came here to tell you, dongsaeng, that you need to shove that stick out of your arse and just confess already.”

“You think I don’t want to.” Jungkook puffs his cheeks. “I want to, I need to, because of that stupid Jongup guy.” He chucks the pencil back. Harshly. Nearly taking Taehyung’s eye out. “I know he wants a piece of the Jiminie. Jongup, unlike you, is an actual opponent.”

“Then go for it!” Taehyung encourages, flailing his arms and ignoring Jungkook’s last comment. The librarian, emerging from a row of books, sticks her head out and shushes Taehyung before returning to her shelving duties. “Then go for it,” Taehyung whispers.

“I can’t,” Jungkook whispers back. “Jiminie has made tremendous-”

“Tremendous,” Taehyung repeats, chuckling. “Big word for a small brain like yours.”

Narrowing his eyes, Jungkook fires back, “I could have gone to Seoul University or Korea University. If you’ve applied, your application would have automatically gone to the trash.” Taehyung grunts. Jungkook smirks and then continues, “ Jimin made tremendous progress, but you think he’s ready for a relationship right now. Being in a relationship is probably the last thing on his mind.”

Taehyung’s expression softens. Jungkook is right, as much as Taehyung hates to admit it, leaving a sour taste in his mouth. Jimin isn’t ready. Not when he got a goal in mind. Not when he rediscovered purpose.

“Why did you suddenly decide to get a prosthetic leg?” Seokjin asked, sipping on his hot chocolate and chopping on a double chocolate chip muffin. The group was at Jimin and Taehyung’s apartment during the first week of vacation.

Everyone paused. Yoongi and Namjoon stopped trying to play Taehyung’s saxophone, and Taehyung stopped trying to take his saxophone back. Jungkook paused the video game he and Hoseok were playing (where Jungkook crushed Hoseok five times). Grinning, Jimin explained that Jongup showed him an inspiration dancer that had experienced what he had gone through, yet she never stopped pursuing her dream.

“I won’t let my disability stop me,” Jimin says, looking down, smiling.

“But keep in mind, maknae,” Taehyung warns, seriousness written on his face, “someone will occupy Jimin’s heart before you get the courage to do so.”

Jungkook heads home. His last class ended fifteen minutes ago. Classmates from his previous school pass by him, but he ignores them, upholding his cold prince image.

Even till now, people are amazed that Jungkook hadn't gone to Seoul. His parents, particularly his father, were upset. His home becoming a place of torture. Every day, his parents look at their son, disappointed, angry. Our friends’ kids have gone to Seoul for their studies, his parents said. Some of them even studied abroad to places like London and New York, they said. Every single freaking day. Back when he was a high school first year, his dad purposely left pamphlets on his study desk, advertising the likes of Yale, Harvard, and MIT. But none grabbed Jungkook’s interest.

School for Jungkook was a waste of time. He didn’t want to be a cardiologist at all. He didn’t even want to major in science. He had no interest in science whatsoever. He only did so to please his parents and lessen their disappointment. What he truly wants to pursue is animation.

In the long hours of the night, underneath his blanket, Jungkook would be watching his favorite animes, cartoons, or animated movies; examining the brilliant artwork. Examining, learning, the way the characters move and talk. Other nights, Jungkook would be reading manga for the still images.

In Yoongi’s apartment, Jungkook secured a room to himself to hide his creations. If his parents discovered what he was doing instead of studying, they would surely ship him off to America without another thought, another word. Jungkook would have no say, instead he’ll have to say farewell to his friends and most importantly to him.

Yoongi doesn’t mind. He doesn’t mind the fact that he lost a room to the makane, or how the maknae spends almost every afternoon in his apartment. Art is art. And Yoongi appreciates walking in the room to watch Jungkook pouring his soul into his drawings, back hunched, face concentrated. (Plus, the kid pays rent by cooking meals for Yoongi.)

“Hey, Jungkook,” Yoongi says, earning a ‘hmmm’ from the boy. “I have a question about this one story you drew.”

Jungkook’s at his desk, hovering over a new storyboard. Spinning in the revolving chair, Jungkook sees Yoongi pointing to a fifteen panel storyboard. His face flushes as he realizes what Yoongi is reading.

“Is this a storyboard for a … story, Jungkookie?”

“Hyung, don’t read it!” He desperately addresses Yoongi formally for once.

“And the main characters look like you and Jimin! Awe. You’re locking lips-”

Jungkook quickly shoves Yoongi out of the room, and doesn’t cook dinner that night.

Jungkook takes the long way of leaving campus. Passing by the dance room where the Flying Monkeys practice.

For a few weeks now, he had crossed paths with the crew members. He saw Kikwang and Hoya debating whether or not Kikwang should take his clothes off for the next showcase.

“You’ll basically be by the end of the number.” Jungkook heard Hoya complaining.

“I’ll be giving the audience what they want,” replied Kikwang.

Other times, he saw Mark steadily walking a couple of feet ahead of Jackson as the latter screamed his name.

“Mark! Don’t run away from my love!”