Theme song (the one I listened to while writing this): BTS 24/7=heaven

            Park Jimin was the only person in the entire world whom I would’ve willingly called Min Yoongi at 3am for.

            After about five hours of restless tossing and turning, playing out endless possibilities and scenes in my head and re-reading all our texts, I realized I didn’t have anything to wear on my first date with him.

            Upon realization, I immediately shot up in bed and dashed out of the room, making my way quickly downstairs to grab a glass of milk. (Don’t judge. Milk helps me think.) After downing three glasses of it, I started pacing mindlessly around the house, mentally running through everything I had in my closet but coming up with nothing suitable for the extremely important occasion. Jimin hadn’t even told me where he’d be taking me – wait for him at the park near his house and dress comfortably were the only pieces of information he gave up despite my constant prying.

            Half an hour later, and a suicidal plan popped up in my head.

            Yoongi was literally the only choice I had, unless I wanted to call like a teacher or something (which would be all different kinds of weird). Everyone was pretty much on vacation or going camping or whatever, and the ones who were left would either be freaking out more than I was (Taehyung) or start calculating random formulas that didn’t help at all (Namjoon). Yoongi was my best shot, verbal bashing and all.

            Bracing myself, I dialled his number.

            Surprisingly enough, he picked up on the third ring. (I’d been expecting to have to call three times before he picked up.) “Hello?” His voice was a dangerous combination of sleepy and irritated. “Who is this?”

            I cleared my throat nervously. “Um, hi, hyung-“

            “JEON JUNGKOOK,” he roared into the phone. I cringed, pulling the phone away from my ear. “WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?! IT’S MIDNIGHT FOR ’S SAKE!”

            Actually, it was 3am. But I didn’t think now was the right time to correct his mistake.

            “My date with Jimin is tomorrow,” I said, trying to sound calm. “And I have no idea what to wear. Help me, Yoongi hyung.”

            Like I’d thought, those words seemed to calm him down. If anything, Min Yoongi loved to prove that he was better than others at everything. (Which he kind of was.) It was the only thing that came even close to being as loved by him as sleep and basketball.

            He sighed dramatically. “Alright, I’ll help you. You owe me big-time, though. Especially if I accidentally run into a stop sign on the way to your place.”

            I nodded, even though it wasn’t like he could see me. “Thank you so much, Yoongi hyung. You’re the best.”

            He chuckled from the other end. “I know. I’ll be there in a bit.”

~

            I opened the door before Yoongi could even ring the doorbell, and didn’t hesitate to throw my arms around him.

            “I love you I love you I love you,” I said as he pushed me away, laughing quietly. “Really, I do.”

            He arched a brow, closing the door behind him and taking his shoes off. He hadn’t brought much – just his phone and his keys – but I knew from the look on his face that I’d chosen the right person to go to. “Careful. Jimin’s the type to get jealous easily.”

            “Yeah, but it’s cute when he does,” I said, smiling fondly and glaring at Yoongi when he pretended to stick a finger down his throat and gagged. “Besides, why would I meet with him five hours before our date?”

            “You find nothing wrong with calling me five hours before my basketball practice,” Yoongi grumbled.

            I laughed, following him up the stairs. “You’re the best hyung ever.”

~

            Three hours later, I stared at my reflection in the full-body mirror propped up against my closet door. I could see the monstrous pile of clothes on my bed behind me, and Yoongi’s satisfied smile right over my shoulder.

            The outfit looked good. I, on the other hand, looked like a mess of nerves, which was exactly what I was at the moment.

            After hours of hunting through my closet and listing possibilities out loud, Yoongi had finally chosen a simple and casual but still well-put-together outfit. A white shirt that looked more expensive than my car had been fished out of the bottom of my wardrobe and carefully ironed out by my hastily woken mother, sleeves rolled up to the elbows in an impeccable but approachable way. Light blue jeans with a few tears here and there, on the knees and thighs. Light brown hiking boots with the laces laced all the way up, the butterfly knots at the tops carelessly perfect and held in place by barely visible pins. A chunky silver watch, the kind that didn’t roll around on your wrist so you didn’t have to rotate it back whenever you wanted to check the time (which was unnecessary, but really cool). I stopped Yoongi before he started messing around with my hair, although I found moments to myself where I could very carefully comb every last strand to perfection.

            “Won’t I get cold in this weather, wearing this?” I asked, reaching to fiddle with the cuffs of the shirt before I was hastily stopped by Yoongi.

            He rolled his eyes. “You’re clueless. I threw this together just so you could be a little bit cold.”

            “But-but why?” I asked, not quite grasping what he was saying.

            He rolled his eyes again, exaggerating it even more this time. “It’s a perfect excuse for him to give you his jacket.”

            "Ohhhhhhhhhhh."

            Yoongi laughed and pulled me downstairs, barely acknowledging my family members who were eating breakfast and immediately started cooing in an extremely embarrassing way once they saw me. “Go enjoy your date. It’s almost time.”

            “But, my bed-“ I protested as he practically threw me out of the house, tossing the things I needed after me.

            “Don’t worry, I’ll clean it up for you,” my mom reassured, suddenly appearing at Yoongi’s side. “I wouldn’t want to ruin your perfect date with something as trivial as a messy room.” She leaned in to give me a hug, heedful of Yoongi’s warnings to mind the collar he’d spent twenty minutes rolling, flipping and pinning to perfection.

            “I love you,” I called, waving goodbye as I descended the front steps.

            “Mind your step!” My mom called, waving frantically. I might’ve been imagining things, but I thought I saw tears in her eyes. I grinned at her and quickly turned away, knowing how embarrassed she’d be if her son saw her crying.

            Once I was out of the house and a fresh wave of nervousness and excitement drowned me in nerves, I practically ran down the driveway and into my car, starting the ignition before I even closed the driver’s door.

            “Jimin, Park Jimin,” I murmured to myself, pulling my phone out when I felt it vibrate in my pocket and grinning at his latest text. “Wait for me. I’m coming.”