I Was Anticipating Doegons Entry In Chakho Man It Didn't Need To Start With Him Loosing His Friends

I was anticipating doegons entry in Chakho man it didn't need to start with him loosing his friends

This is gonna be one hell of a sad background

You know what hurts me? People going absolutely crazy over other members birthday on Tumblr Twitter and other media then there's his birthday. This has been talked about so so many times, I'm tired but it doesn't hurt any less.

Anyway, it's in my country and I've never seen this happening before on anyone's birthday and this makes me so fucking happy 😊

It's no grand gesture or anything of that sort but it's something and it's heartfelt. Thank you for silently crawling inside my heart and make yourself a cozy little place there

호비! 생일 축하해 내 사랑! 🥳🎉🎊🎈

Imagine BTS doing a live action of Chakho?

I'd probably have a minor seizure and heart attack at the same time

Let's gooooo

Happy good morning to me!

I'm never reading the updates before my working hours. I need 2 business days to recover from the heartache. And then again I'm a class a addict for this and have no self control whatsoever so no promises.

#14 Helping Matters

“It’s a refurbished student housing,” you explain as they trail after you like ducks in a row. Even if they don’t understand what you’re saying, they seem to be clinging to every word. Wherever you look there’s always at least one pair of doe eyes staring expectantly back at you a.k.a. what do you do when you open your doors and find a certain retired boyband for some reason wants to move in

▶ type: ot7 x fem! reader (poly)

▶ word count: 7.3k

▶ series’ masterlist

▶ other works

▶ t/w: drinking, mentions of parental neglect

▶ a/n: returning back to my most popular work, late as shit more insecure than ever :) idk i just think i lost my mojo for this story

The phone rings itself off the table and no matter how casually, Jae's eyes linger on the photo of the caller ID. You almost reach over to tap the green button, to finally answer but just when you're about to graze the screen he stops calling and it goes up to the notifications. 23 missed calls, 36 unread messages.

To say that Bangtan wasn't persistent would be the lie of a century. As Yoongi's picture fades from your view, an awkward blanket of silence rests over your shoulders.

"So...do you remember what to do?" you question after a moment of perturbed coffee sipping and Jae nods eagerly along, seemingly never even invested in the dramatics of your communication.

"I say I'm your intern, sent in place because you're busy. I refer to you by your last name. If I see..." here he pauses, "... that lady, I try my best to be as collected as possible."

"Correct," you affirm, unease settling somewhere in your chest. This was stupid, childish, infantile but you still did it, you and your enabler Jae. Would the guys be okay with it? Probably not, you think, they would make you talk about it, to sound it out. Quite ironic, given what had happened yesterday.

"Guess there's no use sitting here. Let's go," you collect your coat and while tying the scarf you glimpse your phone once again dangling at the edge of the table, extremely close to a proverbial suicide. Namjoon's dimples and kind smile stare back at you for a single second, a single, fleeting moment before the call stops and your screen turns dark. He may have just miscalled.

Though you'd rather wish he didn't.

It’s 8:32 in the morning. Jimin has to leave at 9:01 to catch a bus to Dance Dream 66. He’s crying into a banana. He doesn’t even know why. But he is. The banana is salty now.

Yoongi walks in, phone squeezed in his palm, sees the sight, heaves a deeply exhausted breath and lightly wraps his arms around Jimin.

“Are you crying?” he asks the obvious.

“No,” Jimin stubbornly replies and not a second after begins to cry harder.

“Fights are inevitable, it doesn’t mean she’s gone,” Yoongi tries to hush as well as he can. It was never his strong forte but everyone else had already dispersed, trying to cool off in their own ways.

“It’s not about the fight! It’s about him!”

Yoongi feels a flaming fist of unspoken wrath lift its head, or rather arm. He’s never known himself to be the jealous type, the “they looked at you so now I will sulk”, “the I’m unworthy so of course, you’ll talk to them”, the “I’m so stupid and pathetic I’ll probably watch you get married and drink myself to death” type, sure. Not this jealous. Not that he hadn’t enough material to work with, between Hoseok who had routinely stomped on his heart by recruiting various flings while ignoring any advances or suggestions they made, from Jimin who flirted unknowingly with everyone, to Taehyung who was too sweet to sometimes understand what people wanted with him. They were a band which everyone wanted so Yoongi had quite the history of watching strangers roping his loved ones away but he hadn’t felt this. Pure undefined anger. He supposed it was because no matter what he could, in the end, have them in one way or another, as bandmates as friends, they had a bond that even if one of them would ignore so much they’d get married to someone else, they would never truly leave, but you…you could leave. The bond was a singular spider’s thread and Jae from the looks of it was quite determined to make it snap. Or maybe Yoongi just thought so. Nevertheless, there was something about this boy that had him reeling.

“Who is he? How did he do this? She goes to him, she talks to him! And what do we do? We just argue,” Jimin’s head shakes as his heartache mixes with anger. “And I feel like such a dick for saying what I said but I can’t help to feel this way.”

Jimin hiccups, tugging Yoongi’s hands closer around him.

“No but we need to fix this, somehow,” and he pins Yoongi down with those eyes, with that look that Yoongi would conquer mountains for, that left him with no choice but to begrudgingly do the impossible.

“Please, think of something.”

It’s 9:02 in the morning and Jungkook busts down Gwenell’s door like his ass is on fire, consequently catching a sleeve on the door handle, narrowly avoiding a magazine roll propelled in his direction.

“YOU IDIOT!” She yells at him, physically bracing herself against the glass counter, red in the face.

“What did I do?” Jungkook whines, trembling underneath her gaze.

“Exactly what did you do?! I’ve got fucking spirits on the horn here 24/7!”

“You...have...horn?” he asks, bewildered, looking her over and another magazine is thrown in his direction.

“It’s an expression you numbnut! I can’t do any other readings without the spirit bitching to me about you! Twenty-five separate interrupted readings, twenty-five! Does it look like I want to be a front-row centre to your relationship drama?”

Jungkook shuffles towards her, still sulking and sour after yesterday’s argument.

“I found the racoon,” he mumbles, toying with his long sleeve.

“Congratu-fucking-lations,” she mumbles and Jungkook appropriates the greatest evasive technique known to man - the Vmin. He often dubbed it as grovelling, being desperate, being pathetic but the situation at hand is truly dire so he casts all his self-respect aside and begs the entirety of his soul out.

“Oh, please,” bowing repeatedly he urges Gwenell, who is stomping around preparing the shop for another day. There’s many wonders in her hand - charts, crystals, bowls and other such things that Jungkook doesn’t know the name of but is chiefly interested in.

“Please, please, just one more, please, a chance.”

Gwenell observes him dryly.

“I’ve seen a picture just like this. A young man in tears begging me to give him a chance. Like I said to him - no!”

Jungkook is not a whole idiot, just a half, half and a quarter on bad days, so he changes his strategy.

“I’ll...I will mess up,” he threatens, albeit innocent-sounding, though the threat is implicit. “You know I will and then…more complaints…”

Gwenell thinks it over and over her face, there falls a deep sense of dread and annoyance.

“You know, it’s just more…convenient to help me now. No threat…in the future.”

Her dark eyes glimmer at his crouching form.

“I know you’re manipulating me, kid, I know.”

Of course, the Vmin works as skillfully as it had before. Gwenell slams the cards down at such rapid speed that Jungkook doesn’t even have the chance to see them.

She dips her hand in the charms and scatters them across the surface, inspecting each one.

“Do this!” she points at nothing on the table. “Do this the thing that one of you did and not what you did!”

Jungkook’s gaze flits all over but there is really nothing to look at.

“Do…what?” he asks timidly.

“Whatever one you named H. did. Yeah, do that and don’t have sex.”

He splutters.

“Don’t have sex?”

“Don’t have sex!” Gwenell repeats louder, nearly lopping Jungkook’s scarlet tinted ears off. “Now get out of my shop!”

“Wait…wait…what am I to do? What did Hoseok do?”

“Talk! I don’t know! Play 21 questions for all I care just GET OUT!”

"Peace and love to this man, but I’m going to kill him,” Jin declares to his fellow cook, who has been peacefully arranging his lamb shanks, undisturbed by Jin’s heartache. Jin aggressively brings down the knife on the carrots, half surprised at his own actions. He was never this - jealous. Perhaps slightly irritated and angry but never jealous. Jealousy was a sign of insecurity but Jin has had professional training in confidence. He’s specifically trained to shove them deep down. He rips open the cork of the red wine and it splashes like bloodstains everywhere around. Safe to say on this particular day no one chatted with their otherwise cheery, good looking classmate

Jealous? Jealous?! Him? Him, Kim Namjoon, the tower of Logical Reasoning, the Ultimate Arbiter of Calm and Thinking, the UN speaker, the Special Presidential Envoy, Korea’s Pride and Joy?

Yes, so what of it. Can’t he feel, can’t he be an unreasonable human being for one second?

“You’re whining and you’re being a dick, buddy, it’s not a good look,” a voice in his mind says. It’s like his, except it’s snarkier and more all-knowing.

So he’s whining! He can whine! Namjoon slams down the bike and the tires give a high pitched squeal at the manhandling.

“Shut up,” he bristles at the poor item.

He walks into the store and after bidding very curt greetings with Samantha, who recently moved here from a diner near mountains, and Albert, the elderly owner, descends to the backroom where books were ready to be shelved, sorted, cleaned and other stuff. Usually, he took joy in this simple task. He liked the feel of his fingers running over numerous spines, the colours and textures of some of the older models, especially the ones lined with gold. Books in this part of the world, especially the older models, had intricate covers, monochrome but with details that astounded his eye. Today there was no comfort. Today he was just pissed. If only Namjoon would only be pissed off, he was also aching and sad, and stubborn and he couldn’t help to think that you'd discovered his fatal flaw a bit too early.

“Listen Namjoon,” he remembers Kyung-Mi saying, “you’re a great guy but you’ve got to sort this thing out. I like you, I really do but I can’t be with someone who goes on jealous tirades every time I meet a friend. You’re just - “

You’re just too controlling.

And it hasn’t been said by only her.

It’s what Jimin had said when Jungkook had run to him, complaining. Jungkook, the guy who was stuck by Namjoon’s side since day one, even he had said it’s too controlling.

Controlling was a dangerous word. It was worse than being petty or quiet, controlling meant an uneven distribution of power and in the end signified that Namjoon just had an inherent problem with healthy relationships. He was scared of that word. Bossy? Sure. Overprotective? Alright but everyone always said controlling.

“Why are you scared, Namjoon?” his therapist had asked him.

“Controlling is what abusers are. Controlling one’s partner is inherently a red flag, no?”

“We as people want to control many things, there's a difference between struggling with control issues and being controlling. You tend to put such a distinction between words, can’t you spot the difference?”

Namjoon would like to say that being controlling is a result of his job, where he was the leader and everything was put underneath a fine lens, it’d be a nice little excuse but it wasn’t it. It was aggravated, sure, but he had it before and now when there was no public eye or an entire company watching even their smallest of microexpressions he had no excuse at all other than it was his inherent flaw.

He loved his lovers like he did nothing else. He cherished them and he protected them. He was so scared and anxious for them it was hard to sit idly by and watch them blunder their way into the next heartache. It was just easier for everyone if he took their hands and led them away from the pain and onto the path that was better.

“You’re not a prophet,” the voice says. “Do you know what’s better?”

But he wants to be the one to hold you, to comfort you, to embrace you. He thinks of nightly scenarios of kissing your neck, wrapping his arms around you, lazy mornings, you screaming into a pillow, coffee and books and crosswords and jogging and complaining, he wants it all so bad he doesn’t even know what to do with himself.

But you were having that, all that he wanted, in your form and you gave it to Jae. Was he your soulmate? Did he write songs in your honour, did he whisper his days and worries to your ghost because he missed you even though he didn’t know you, did he walk by a jewellery store, wanting to buy you all these pretty things but then having to restrain himself to not come on too strong? Did he watch you like he did over dinner, one cheek in his palm thanking whoever it was that you were alive and here with them to gag at Jin’s failed cabbage? Did he yearn for you? Did he want you like he did? Did he give up his career, his reputation, his home, his family, all on a gamble that you might end up liking him?

He thinks not.

A broom whacks him on the head, the soft end but it’s still disconcerting.

Namjoon whips around and sees Hoseok wielding the staff broom like a spear.

“Get up, you prick, we’re going for a walk.”

“Hobi, I can take you on,” Namjoon rose up and flexed his muscles but Hoseok stood his ground even if there was a drop of fear remaining in his eyes.

“You would not hurt me, so now we’re going to make sure, you’re not going to hurt _______. Get up!”

“Albert wouldn’t,” Namjoon snorts and turns to his two colleagues, fully assertive of the assistance only to find their backs turned, blatantly ignoring the unfolding scene. Samantha even has the gall to sip on her cocoa.

"It's a lovely space you have here!" Jae coos and you slide on your back down the brick wall. His voice was shaking and he couldn't be more obvious at this very moment.

"Thanks. You're supposed to design it," a woman's voice answers, dry and unamused. It wasn't your mother but clearly, her friends stayed within the orbit of similar traits.

"Oh, fun!" Jae calls out meekly and you frown in your palms, detaching the headphones from your ears, unable to listen any longer. You take in the situation, asking what pray tell kind fuck where you doing? What were you roping Jae into?

He was sent to the third floor of a small office building, with a secret phone in his hand and an open call line so you could listen in, only for the defence and that calm, collected aura you talked about to crumble not even five minutes into.

Your mother wasn't even there to begin with meaning that whatever suffering the lawyers of Benefits United experienced was entirely pointless.

What the fuck were you doing?

As you look around, there are bare trees and piles of red and golden leaves scattered across the small road. In the distance, you can hear a bunch of children yelling. Must be a school. Did your mother specifically choose this location to be near the school? Growing up, she didn't even bother to be in the same country, never mind, whether it was your graduation, first school day, first dance or public speaking award ceremony. All you remember are these looks, from teachers and other parents when you waddled in by yourself and there was no one who collected you from the school.

"She's at work," you had replied to your first-grade teacher, swinging your legs back and forth on the small chair.

"Is your mom often at work?"

"She works very hard."

Your teacher had pressed her lips in a tight line and when answering who looks after you, mostly it being yourself, then the nanny, then the neighbour, if needed, she just politely pushed out a simple -

"I see."

So in hindsight of all that, it was hard to imagine that she would ever go through the trouble of arranging a location just to see her daughter more often - it hadn't happened to you.

Jae keeps talking on the other side of the open phone line, your impromptu walkie - talkie and he's growing more embarrassed and flustered by the minute. Your will almost breaks to go and simply fetch him but a familiar sight catches your eye. A school bag, fluffy skirt and a certain, very ugly and lumpy teddy bear swinging back and forth. No way, no way would the universe be this malicious.

It is.

Because by all technicalities that little girl walking down the street and not looking where she was going is your sister. This feeling is so odd. You never imagined yourself as the older sister or as an adult really. Years piled up and you did things but it all felt like a ruse you played with yourself. Yes, other people grew up, they got married, they had jobs. For you, there was a time in which you remember clearly being 16 and then everything's a haze. You did things but they were just that - things, not milestones of adulthood. In a way, it's like you simply never became an official grownup, merely became adept at masquerading as one.

The teddy attached to the girl's bag (you didn't even know her name), falls on the sidewalk but the girl keeps walking quickly by, most likely immersed in a daydream of some sort. You cross the street and pick it up, examining the elongated face of your lost toy. You had said goodbye to Teddy, to everything of your past when you were kicked out of the home. It's surreal to feel the abrasive cloth underneath your fingers. Like a callback to a different life. Eventually, you realize it was for the best that it went to the current owner. Maybe your sister needed it as much as you had. Who knew what lay beneath the guise of a normal, happy family. You swerve around the corner trying to locate that frilly fuchsia skirt, only to nearly tumble when something tangles in your legs.

"My teddy!"

You can only stand gaping at the small figure, eagerly looking at your hands. She has something of your mother in there, you think their chin is really, really similar and that knowledge punts you into the ground. It really shouldn't be this difficult to embrace the fact that your mother had another kid once you left. People did it all the time. It shouldn't come as a surprise. But it did.

Mutely you push her's, or rather, your toy towards her, not knowing what to say. What were you supposed to say in situations like these? Oh, kid, when you grow up, you're going to have a nice family drama to talk about over dinner?

"Pauline, how many times, please don't run off like that?" an exasperated man's voice rings behind you before you get to stammer something stupid. The man from the aquarium. His brown rimmed glasses were bouncing as he ran towards you, little girl's, Pauline's, bag swaying in his hand.

Who names their kid Pauline?

"Thank you, for returning the...uh...her toy," he pants. You nod in silence, looking him critically over. He...he didn't look like a villain. In fact, he looked as an average of a guy as any. Brown sweater, glasses, a pinch of male pattern baldness, a bit of a stubble. The only thing you found unsettling is the genuine, warm smile.

"Say "thank you", Pauline."

Somewhere from deep within Teddy's belly, comes a very muffled "thank you".

"Are you a...a parent here?" he asks curiously and you receive the same calculating look over.

"No, I was just," I was just stalking my mother's work, "walking by."

"It's nice that you did," he laughs and you watch him with increasing suspicion. "Most people wouldn't bother to pick it up."

He couldn't just be that nice? Right? If he was with your mother, he must be some type of crazy.

Or maybe she's just fine, you're the sick one.

"Guess not," you awkwardly shuffle. "I should be-"

"Have we met before?"

Your heart drops and you can physically feel yourself blanch. The man is not smiling anymore, he's frowning like the secret of your identity was on the tip of his tongue, waiting to be voiced.

"No, I don't think so."

He waves a hand over with a confused wrinkle in his forehead, while Pauline reaches to grab his hand. You linger on that handhold for a moment before straightening and swallowing whatever threatened to bubble over.

"It's just...you seem, really, really familiar."

Don't say it. Don't say it. Don't say it. Don't say it. Don't say it. Don't say it. Don't say it. Don't say it. Don't say it. Don't say it. Don't say it. Don't say it. Don't say it.

"I just have one of those faces."

Fuck.

Surprisingly, he laughs in return.

"I didn't know people said it in real life."

"Hey, ______________!"

Oh, Jae. Could you choose a worse timing?

All of you turn automatically towards the sprinting blue dot.

"I think it went over okay, you know we talked about interior decorations and besides the fact that I didn't learn anyth- oh hello!"

He comes to a screeching halt once you not so subtly smack Jae on the stomach, but the man's eyes flit between the two of you and the office building and you have to give it to him, he's smart because there's a recognition in his eyes almost instantaneously.

"Oh, do you by any chance are working on "Benefits United"?"

"No."

"Yes."

You restrict your groan and shoot Jae a warning glare. He shrivels behind you like an overgrown wilted flower.

"Yes, we are," you gather yourself to appear more collected and professional.

"My wife works there!" the man coos but you don't let it go amiss the way his eyes lose the soft glimmer. He's doing the same exact thing you did with the boys when they first moved in - he was letting you drop a net of lies, so you could tangle yourself in it.

"What a small city, this is, right?"

"Sure is," you reply cooly. They got married. Your mother's married, with a kid and a new job. Weren't things just great?

"My name is Mark," he introduces himself.

"It's nice to meet you, Mark."

Jae grips the side of your shoulder lightly. You can hear the way your tone is becoming increasingly sharp but you can't stop it.

"Hey, since my wife is not going to be here until Christmas, maybe I can give you my number? So I could be like her stand-in? Did her colleagues mention anything about child room?"

You glance back at Jae and in an oddly similar way he mutters out "no" the way Pauline had with her face smushed in her toy.

"You see, we both work so we thought maybe the office could have like a little children's corner? My wife could watch Pauline sometimes and it would allow other clients to bring their kids with them and not leave them at home alone."

For some reason, you think that if Mark would slap you, it would sting less.

"How considerate," you hiss through a smile.

You end up exchanging the numbers, waving with a fake smile until two of them disappeared around the corner at which point your face fell blank. You scoff at the ground and turn towards Jae who was poking at his fingers.

"I screwed it up, didn't I?"

"A bit but I appreciate the effort."

Something in the way his shoulders hunch remind you of a sad puppy.

"Come on, let's get to the office before they drink all the coffee."

It's nearing the evening and the apartment is a mess.

"What do you mean you went to a tarot reader?" Taehyung shouts across the hall, a toothbrush in his mouth as he furiously brushed his teeth.

"I went to the same lady! The one I went before!" Jungkook shouts back from his room, throwing around various hoodies and shirts, undecided which one looked the cosiest.

"Why the hell would you go to a tarot reader?" Jin asked while breezing past the living room where Yoongi sat by the mirror desperately trying to choose between two leather jackets.

"Does this smell great?" Jimin stumbled to him stretching out a bottle of cologne. Yoongi tries to be gracious and contains the vomit in his mouth.

"Do the world a favour and pour it down a toilet."

"According to Army," Taehyungs spits out the toothpaste and proceeds to shamelessly steal the last bits of Jin's hair gel, "I should wear glasses, it's the most optimal boyfriend look."

"We didn't ask about that!" Jin breezes back past, holding a steam iron. Jimin barely jumps on the sofa in time to avoid a definite collision. "Why were you going to some scammer?"

"Gwenell is nice. She helped me!"

"How is playing "truth or dare" going to help us?" Jimin shouts back, pushing Yoongi over to see whether or not he was standing on his Chanel belt.

"Stop trying to wear brands, it's not as impressive as you think," he grumbles.

"Tell that to Hobi. He's probably going to be decked out in Rolex's and Tiffany," Jimin huffs back and Yoongi can only nod in an agreement.

"It's not "truth or dare" it's 21 questions," Jungkook defends, happily deciding on a top and now moving onto pants.

"Here's a question, how is having a "date but we don't tell you it's a date unless you ask" in any way smoothing out or differences?" Jin asked checking the temperature of the iron and nearly burning his whole handoff.

"I don't see you not being excited!" Taehyung accused.

"Well, I'm going on a date with my wife, why shouldn't I be excited? What the rest of you are doing is beyond me."

Everyone groans.

"I swear, sometimes it's like he forgets we're all together," Jimin sighs returning Yoongi back to his original place.

The waterside is empty as Hoseok comes to collect Namjoon, trudging along after his shift.

"Remember, if you don't like Jae then don't put emphasis on him," he greets him sagely and begrudgingly Namjoon nods along.

"It's just...it's just she's mine, she's ours. It's annoying to see that little..." Namjoon side glances to where Hoseok was standing with a stern expression.

"....individual," he amends. "With her."

"I know, trust me I know, but there is only one person we should be proving this to and we're going to make it right, okay? We're going to be calm and collected and mature and we're not going to impose on her -"

"Hello, Jae," not even thirty minutes later Namjoon stretches the entirety of his towering height, as they come into the office of ID Solutions, all seven of them decked out in their finest wear and jewellery. "You're so small and unnoticeable, I didn't see you."

Hoseok hides his face in his palms.

Surprisingly you and Jae work in companionly silence as you examine the electrical outlets and he - the possible furniture for the newly added children's corner. It was nearing the end of your workday and time had gone quickly but your mood only sours not only remembering Mark but also of the stilted scene in your home.

"Can I ask you something?" you breach the quiet atmosphere. Since your desk was shoved into the corner of the office and Jae was given nothing but a chair it was almost like there were only two of you in this place.

"Anything."

"Why did you choose my topic as an inspiration?"

He looks up from his tablet, one pencil behind his ear, the other in his mouth.

"I pfeanted tfo be like pfyou."

"Remove the pencil, Jae."

He spits it out and in faint disgust you watch it rolling across the table.

"Sorry, I just... My family's always been...comfortable."

Rich is what they all meant.

"And I love them, I do but they always said, "why do it yourself when you can come to us". And I don't... I don't want to be that guy, that rich guy who always runs to his mommy and daddy when things go wrong. And as I got older," he sighs and looks out the window, frowning slightly, "I realized just how tone-deaf I've been in some cases and I want to be more. I-I want to be more than just some spoiled boy. I thought interior designing could do me some good but it's all just..."

"More rich people," you conclude.

"Yeah. I actually thought of quitting altogether. Become a social worker maybe but then I say your thesis. "Homes for Everyone: Aesthetics and Functionality Using Cost-Effective Methods." I loved that phrase - "Homes for Everyone"."

You had liked it too. The thesis ended up falling flatter than you thought, earning a humble average mark but it was comforting to hear that someone had enjoyed it as well.

"And I realized that that's the main reason I could work for. Not create a perfect palace but simply a home worth living in."

You blink surprised at him.

"You know Jae you've got layers."

"Onion, baby," he smirks and then withers nervously. "I said "baby" in a friendly way, in an "I respect you as my boss way" type of way."

"Yeah, I get it," you laugh and then register that the entire office had fallen silent. Phones ring but they are not answered. Jae glares towards the doorway. You turn around and see none else other than the entirety of a certain incognito boyband, entering your office, like they just stepped out of a photo shoot.

You can't decide between rushing over and hiding underneath the desk. They narrow you down and Hoseok is the only one to give you a welcoming wave, while the rest resembled a herd of deers caught in headlights. In unison, the heads of the entire office turn to gape at you then at the boys, then back at you as though they were witnessing an invisible ping pong match.

Knees slightly shaking, you walk over to them. Even lowering your voice to a whisper, you were all too aware that everyone was listening in.

"Hey, what are you - what are you doing here?"

You swallow harshly at the sight of them. The longer you lived them, the easier it was to muddle the fact of who exactly they were. The bed slept hair, the runny nose from the flu, the puffed cheeks, stubbles and pimples, you'd seen it all and to you they became just "them", facing them now, looking like every bit the BTS of before, not only was intimidating, it heated your face like the fire did an empty cauldron.

"We're very sorry for our fight yesterday," Yoongi apologizes somberly and you remind yourself to breathe. You were somehow getting starstruck by the sight of your own roommates. Sensational how you managed that.

"If we could...we could take you to eat?" Jin offers gently.

You glance at the coworkers sitting by. One of the women was pouring tea into her lap into her mouth but she seemed not to register it as her eyes flitted between them, not knowing who to ogle first.

"I'll just - I'll just get my bag," you mumble, scurrying to get your things faster.

They look around curiously and stumble upon Jae who was coming towards them with a wide, albeit cold smile.

"You know, guests have to remain in the waiting hall downstairs."

"And yet we are here," Taehyung replied with just as big of an empty smile.

"Hello, Jae. You're so small and unnoticeable, I didn't see you," Namjoon greets pettily as Hoseok nearly folds in half from disappointment.

"You should get your eyesight checked then," Jae replied casually, inspecting his nails. A hush had fallen over the office. The phones had even stopped ringing as no one answered them.

"You show up like this... I don't think _________ appreciates such... pageantry."

"How fortunate that no one asked what you think," Yoongi jabbed also smiling.

"That's the cattiest thing I've ever seen," one of the coworkers whispered into the ear of the other who nodded eagerly along.

"Would it be childish to yell "fight"?" she asked in turn.

"Nice to meet you "no one"."

Jimin who felt like he hadn't gotten a good insult in there, wrangled his brain for some more heat.

"You as well, "trash"."

An audible "oof" ran through the spectators. Jae's fists tightened and Jimin was pushed behind Jungkook who stepped in front of him. Jae's fists loosened.

"Ah, was _________ having a bad day when she moved in with you? I guess even interior designers can get overwhelmed by flashy decorations."

"She has excellent taste," Jungkook glowered.

"In her roommates at least," Taehyung added with a deep scowl. "Her interns, though?" he sucked an appalled breath through his teeth.

"Clearly everyone has their own standards," Jae shrugged. "It's nice to fit those who have them high."

"Very high standards of "no competition"," Namjoon rebuffed.

"You say, "no competition", I say "no equal"."

"Then you should learn to be more self-aware and also what the meanings of words are."

They fall silent, each and every one of them, except for Hoseok who was stuck wondering how it came to be that he was the most responsible one, glaring like it prevented plague.

"I'm her intern, whether you like it or not."

"You work with her," Jin interrupted, smugly. "I pull her hair out of the shower. We are not the same."

When you rush over, coat buttoned wrong and a scarf thrown haphazardly over your neck.

"Let's go," you encourage breathlessly. The office was teeming with a slowly ticking buildup and you rather not have eight corpses to deal with.

"I'll see you tomorrow," you promise Jae and after a long look at the guys, he relents.

"See you," he mutters. "Hope you have a nice evening."

You smile lightly at him back before pushing the boys out of your work. When Jae sees the last slip of your figure disappear out the doors, he hunches. Everyone pretends very hard that they've been clearly working all this time.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"So we fight over Jae and you come to apologize only to fight with Jae, once again," you breathe into the cold air, sitting down on the bench as you aimlessly trail through the nearest park.

"He was being mean," Jimin whined by your side.

"You were all mean to each other. For no reason at all!"

Taehyung scoffs underneath his nose which suspiciously sounded like a mockery over your words "for no reason".

"Listen, I don't want to argue. I had a very confusing day, so can we just go somewhere?"

"Of course, we can. Forget about Jae. Who even is he right?" Namjoon affirms somehow adding the wrong emphasis but you don't correct him.

"I'm not dressed for a restaurant. Can we go to a less fancy place? Like KBBQ?"

"Why there?" Yoongi asks.

"I don't know. Don't you miss the food from home?"

"You've no idea how much," Hoseok mumbled serenely and you watch their crestfallen expressions sadly. You can't even comprehend how isolating it must be, to live here, far away from everything that they knew.

"Then let's go. Maybe it'll cheer you up."

Taehyung pulls you by your arm as the rest try to find bus 32 which will take you where you needed to go.

"Happy if you forgive me," he breathes in your neck and you shiver.

"I forgive you but it wasn't cool to make me feel like I was a bad person for befriending Jae."

"We know," Jin waddles next to you as you try to somehow walk with Taehyung clinging to your back. "We're sorry for that. Not fair."

"Hmmm."

"We can drink and play that game!" From up the front Jungkook calls out joyfully.

"What game?" you frown.

"Apparently, Jungkook has been talking to a tarot reader who suggested we play a question game."

"A tarot reader?"

"Are you surprised?"

You watch as Hoseok has to pull Jungkook by his jacket so he wouldn't run face-first into a tree.

"No."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

An hour later you sit by a smoking grill and a waiter who greeted Jin as "the guy who knocked himself out".

"It's just a little bit weird to see you be so open with him," Yoongi cuts the meat, having shucked off his jacket and you try not to stare.

Bottles line up the table in preparation for what bounds to be a horrible decision. One question = one answer = one shot. One question = no answer = two shots.

"Well, you don't know him," you shrug trying to remain aloof which is incredibly hard to do so because in the small space Jungkook sits on your side, one arm thrown behind you and Jimin had taken the liberty to put his hand on your thigh, occasionally running it up and down.

"And you do? How long ago did you meet? A week?"

"Well, we don't know all that much about each other as well."

"Then let's get to know each other," Jungkook offers delusionally optimistic.

"By playing a drinking game?" you arch an eyebrow.

"Why not?" Jimin lazily drawls, tracing circles on your thigh. You feel that they're deadset on this so you only sink lower in the chair.

When the first batch of meat is ready it begins. The only comfort is that you'll pass out before reaching the full set of questions.

"You can go first."

Without hesitation, Namjoon asks.

"Do you fancy Jae?"

"No."

A shot for you.

"Why did you come here?"

They exchange nervous glances.

"It's complicated," Taehyung stammers

You snort.

"Of course, that's not an answer though."

They incline their heads, two shots for them. Taehyung shivers in disgust while Yoongi doesn't even blink.

"What's Jae helping you with. You said, "he helped me more than you know".

You squirm in your seat.

"It's a long story" you evade.

"We got time," Jimin insists.

An automatic grimace falls over your face and Yoongi points an accusing pair of scissors in your direction.

"No, no, don't do that," he says sharply. "Don't pretend you can't explain or that we won't understand."

"Just a second ago, you didn't answer my question! So what? You get to grill me but I don't?"

"We're not telling you the reason because we're scared that it will push you away," Namjoon argues and you begin to grow increasingly frustrated.

"Do you never stop to think that I might have the same reason?"

"We're not leaving you," Jin interjects. "Never."

"You told Jae," you can feel Jungkook shaking his head.

"Actually I didn't. He's guessing but I never explicitly told him anything."

A pause descends upon the table.

"Explicitly?" Hoseok questions, half to himself.

"In a detailed manner," out of habit you explain. Another two shots.

5 SHOTS LATER

"Are we your enemies?" Namjoons asks. You shake your head. No, they were not.

"And you're not ours. So let's just not fight with each other. We all want to live together right?"

Of course, you wanted to live with them! As annoying, loud and messy they were you've never come home to a warm room a handmade meal, a shoulder to rest on. In their chaotic slightly intrusive way they've bought life in your mundane existence. Laughter, company. But it was quite clear, that you were dragging them by.

"I want to live with you! But I'm me!" you insist, judgement cloudy and feelings working overtime.

"What is that supposed to mean? Taehyung scoffs.

"I'm bad at being...open! I wreck everything good in my life!"

"Stop thinking you're the worst person in the world!"

"I am though. How much longer will you want to hang around this neurotic mess? I don't take care of myself, I have low self-esteem. I've got no clue how to comfort you, I can't even name three red vegetables."

"So what?!" they shout over each other and some people throw annoyed glares.

"We're adults. If we want to be with you, we want to," Yoongi finishes with some heat as Jin tries to salvage the burning meat. "We've all got flaws, we've all got problems. Doesn't mean we deserve to be isolated."

"It's more than a flaw! I'm just...I'm just..."

"You're a beautiful, headstrong, tough person!" Namjoon slams a hand on the table and you all jump at his outburst.

7 SHOTS AND 3 BEERS LATER

"I'm not! Stop saying that! Stop being so kind!"

Tears well up in your eyes. You really didn't need any more reasons to fall in love with them.

"I'm not crying" you stubbornly refute wiping tears away from your cheeks sitting now opposite an absolutely wailing Jungkook.

"I am not!" he insists as well.

10 SHOTS AND 5 BEERS LATER

"What do you think they put in the takeout to make it so dam n good?" you slur wrenched between Namjoon who was gripping your waistline and Jin whose hands kept absent-mindedly caressing your shin. Once in a while Yoongi reached over to offer you some food.

"Laziness," Namjoon mutters in your neck.

You think you should sit somewhere else, but there is a blank when it comes to actual reasons. It feels nice and it's warm and Namjoon's chest beats the back of a chair any day of the week.

"Hmm. I'm going to be so broke though if I keep ordering instead of cooking something for a change."

"You live with seven millionaires" he mumbles and you feel his faint smile on your skin. "You don't need to worry about money ever again."

"Flex," Jin laughs.

13 SHOTS AND 6 BEERS LATER

You are removed from the KBBQ.

13 SHOTS , 8 BEERS AND TWO MARGARITAS PURCHASED SOMEWHERE ELSE LATER

Hoseok pukes in a bush.

20 SHOTS, 8 BEERS, TWO MARGARITAS AND SOMETHING BLUE LATER

"I just...I just love pork so much," Jungkook looks at the kebab like it's his newborn, eyes misty with emotions.

Hobi is carried on Namjoon's back while you're positioned on Yoongi's, his arms supporting your legs as your head hangs over his shoulder. They always smell so nice.

A bit further away, Jimin and Taehyung try to walk as they occasionally make out.

"You're all together, right?" you mumble in his ear, battling the urge to bite him.

"Yeah," he replies a bit fazed but otherwise the soberest. "Does that bother you?"

"No," you nuzzle in Yoongi's shoulder, revelling in the quiet sound of his laughter. "Suspected as much."

20 SHOTS, 8 BEERS, 2 MARGARITAS, 1 SOMETHING BLUE, 2 CUPS OF WATER AND A VERY AGGRESSIVE CUDDLE SESSION LATER

You're all lying on the living room floor, scattered around.

"You know we were meant to talk about something important," you drawl as Taehyung rolls over along with you and you find yourself half pressed against Jin's chest.

"Yeah," somewhere travels Jungkook's muffled voice and Jimin's subsequent giggle. "What about?"

"Don't know, don't remember."

"Me neither."

You're almost asleep when Yoongi's voice startles you awake.

"You're one of us now. No matter how much we fight, we're always coming home to each other."

"Sounds nice."

"It is," Jin mumbles and presses a kiss against your temple.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

You wake up disorientated and parched. Everything hurts. Inside and out, your body is aching. Through narrowed eyes, you make out the unruly mess of bodies strewn on the floor and groan to yourself.

Your phone buzzes once, twice, thrice. You ignore it for a while but when a fresh sleep fails to arrive, with much effort and snarling you wrench a hand free from Taehyung's death grip and look at the screen.

New messages pile on your screen. You scowl at the intruder but the very first line hits you with a wave of nausea.

You're my wife's daughter, right?

I know you are.

Would it be possible to meet you like a cafe or a park?

And then after a whole two hour period, send nearly eight hours ago comes the last line.

I won't tell your mother - Mark.

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a/n: Hey everyone, dropping by to say that feedback is always appreciated. What do you like, what is unclear, it helps me to write, maybe flesh out some aspects that I've been neglecting :) also if there would be some 👀👀👀👀 content centring around this story would you be interested?

Watch "Jung Kook (정국) ‘Stay Alive (Prod. SUGA of BTS)’ | Official Teaser" on YouTube

Why does it already sounds so heartbreaking 💔