Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The screen dies for the third time and he lets out his fourth sigh. Down on his chest, the phone rises and falls like a boat on restless water; up above, the damp patch his landlord fixed fortunately once but unfortunately not twice, stares at him with weary eyes. Jimin sees them. Two little water-arms in the ceiling, shaped like dark circles. That's because you don't open the windows. But he does. He opens them. He sleeps with the window open even in winter. Just a crack, so his throat doesn't feel like sand in the morning.

“So you’re all caught up.”

The stain ponders, and Jimin sighs a fifth time.

“I know, I know,” he continues. “It's only as important as I let it be.”

A car rumbles in the alley behind the blinds, and its headlights stripe the left wall. Two seconds later, the world is black again and his wall is back to navy blue.

“You're looking at me like he does.”

Jimin cradles his phone with both hands. Unlocking it, the same screen greets him as if it were the first time tonight. The same illusion, the same promise. The same blue grid imprinted on his eyelids when he blinks. He looks at it; it looks back. His thumb traces a spiral in the air over the sign up button. That's how Jimin feels. Like a vulture waiting for the prey to die. For the phone to drain that last 4%. It's too risky. All his friends are there. What are the chances the proximity search feature gives him away? Probably slim. But what are the chances his friends' friends stumble onto his profile? Also slim. But slightly higher. Seoul is big, but Jimin is bigger, or so Hobi always says whenever one of Jimin’s dance students lands a gig.

The vulture changes course. Prey discarded. Too alive. Too interconnected. It's not paranoia, it's an exponential function. Math. Disaster. The apps shiver on the screen until the little blue ball disappears. When his eyes land on the next logo, he wrinkles his nose. It's so tacky. He's always hated that fucking yellow mask. That insinuation that the gay world inevitably hides behind a paraphernalia of half-truths and character-building. Pure Stanislavski. Just what he's looking for.

“You'd better close your eyes,” he advises the ceiling.

The interface sounds make him smile. He had fun on it, once upon a time. It was the first app he downloaded when he came out. Jimin bites his ring finger. Upper teeth on the pad, lower teeth on the nail. It was the first app he downloaded before he came out. Just to feel a bit of disgust, amidst all the erections and tears. After a week, he let that girl from Debate class suck him off under the stairs to the roof. Feeling worse receiving a blowjob than an unsolicited dick pic was the answer to the biggest question of his teens. He came anyway. Sorry, he said in the shadows. Why, she replied. Since then, he would only use the app with all the lights on. Ceiling light, bedside lamp, reading light.

And here he is, ten years later. With a trail of deleted messages behind him. A couple of t-shirts several sizes too big at the bottom of his last drawer, three pieces of jewelry he won’t wear or sell. One more friend, four fewer. The same old email for signing up at clothing stores and the same old password with an extra exclamation point. The yellow mask smiles, surrounded by confetti. Welcome. A picture of his collarbone will do. Show age? Sure. Looking for. What is he looking for. None of the options include fucking over an ex. Friends, it is. And there the old icons appear. The mask, the drops, the fire, the envelope. The nerves. The notification arpeggio. Jimin taps the messages tab.

12345_78_
WHAT KIND OF FRIENDSHIP?

Two more arpeggios.

chae.fan
[Photo]

Keehoe
If you want a friend I've got o…

His tongue tries to push between his teeth until the point of a molar hurts it. Is this really as bad an idea as his therapist hinted on Wednesday? Or is it just a bad place to develop the idea? There are decent people. Must be. Jimin has met them. He taps.

Keehoe
If you want a friend I've got one right here drooling

He just doesn't have the resilience he used to. Not for love, not for disappointment. The mirror across the room gives him a frown, and Jimin frowns harder. When has he ever needed to lie? What does he need to prove? And why to him? With a groan, he flings the phone against the pillow. Life has always been the one to clean and arrange the display cases for him. To make his butt bigger in, like, two weeks flat. To make his exes hear the loudest laugh in the room, to make it rain to cover for his dirty hair. Jimin has always been a staunch critic of the saying that time puts everyone in their place. He believes time simply keeps them where they belong. And he belongs at the height his boots give him. That's why he doesn't understand why he's so willing to step down from them.

He doesn't even hate Yoongi.

Jimin was the one who left first. And that's the problem. He couldn't even remember the reason when Yoongi asked to get back together. Then, months later, he heard the same motives he'd once forgotten. Yoongi left him while they were eating the miso soup from the market and Jimin kept blowing on his empty spoon. And he usually likes to say I told you so, to colonize the concept of being right. To hear yes, you did. But this time it didn't feel like a victory. He'd taken the day off work to help soundproof his music studio, he was wearing flat shoes. He didn't even like the ginger in the soup. But it was. A victory. Because the friendship would remain intact, and suddenly that was all that mattered. Everything's fine, Yoongi would say at the weekly hangouts with the guys. No need to mourn. And everyone would nod, because Yoongi never lies.

The light on the hot water kettle changes from red to blue, and Jimin pours the boiling water over the dry noodles. He should let it go. He should show up at the beach house with his tray of shrimp, his usual smile and his best pajamas. He should behave like a functional adult and flash his crooked tooth at Yoongi's new partner. Yes, he could do that.

“Fuck’s sake,” he groans.

The water has overflowed the cup, and a ridiculous, scalding waterfall soaks the top of his foot from the counter. Jimin jumps, eyelashes fluttering. Serves him right for eating after ten. He effortlessly lifts his leg and places his foot under the kitchen faucet. The breakfast plate gleams under his heel. And just like in the warm-up before his students arrive, he raises one arm to a clean third above his head. His back cracks satisfyingly, his fingertips graze the cold aluminum handle, a stream of cool water eases his bad mood. Better. Jimin takes the ramen back to the bedroom. No boiled egg, no extra soy. On the pillow, the phone pretends to sleep. No green onion, no self-respect.

The last app waits in a corner. Yellow again, but prettier. Three stripes mimic a bee, and Jimin smiles when he realizes it's right on top of the daisy on his home’s screen. He's heard of it, but just enough to know it's not popular in Korea. Even less so for queer people. And maybe that's the key. A low-traffic place where he can set the pace. He needs time to explain himself. Plus, it looks… clean. More formal than the other two. Jimin bites his lip. How many formal guys would agree to a proposition like this? Ah, fuck it.

Create account. Check.

Enter your phone number and we'll send a verification code. Check.

Time to show your face.

Okay. He just needs a good picture. Jimin's gaze slides over his album of favorite selfies. Then over his favorite pictures taken by others. With Hobi's photos, he remembers which laugh came before each one. With Tae's, if it was cold or hot. Silently, he sets a criteria. He needs to look approachable: I'm here to propose something dishonest, but I'm a simple guy. So, not too much makeup. Pink hair, out. No leather. A bit of chest. And then, he hesitates. The black hair is humbler, but the blonde is his current look. He picks the one with black hair. Deletes it. Blonde hair. Let there be something that's accurate.

Tell us about you.

A white rectangle blinks on the screen, and Jimin feels the same as when opening a new notebook. He draws out an m. Is it practical to just put what he's looking for in his bio? Probably no one will match after reading it. But at least he'll avoid unpleasant surprises in the privacy of a chat. Insults he'd have a comeback for days later.

i need help

i need

looking for someone who doesn't mind

looking for someone to pretend to be my boyfriend in front of my ex

Direct. Though lacking context.

looking for someone to pretend to be my boyfriend in front of my ex and his new partner so cosmic order is restored

He cracks his jaw in a yawn. It's not about finding a headline that makes his dilemma more compact. He can answer future questions in private. The problem is, even if someone understood, why would anyone agree to be part of a charade so unrelated to their own interests.

what do i get? my dignity back

what do you get? a day at a house by the sea with food and free drinks

And so it starts. The first photo fills all four corners of his screen. A black shirt, similar to the one he always wears on first dates. On reflex, he swipes left. The second guy looks too neat, the third one’s hair is too short. The fourth’s, too long. Too smiley, too far, too close. A fringe parted down the middle. A lazy mouth, as if he couldn't be bothered to smile for the person taking the picture. Biceps. Silver. Jimin looks at the flower-shaped lamp on the nightstand. Who does he want to show up with at the house?

The two options he's weighing are: someone who looks like an exact copy of Yoongi, but upgraded. Whatever that means. Or someone completely opposite. What is he trying to say? "You could have been better" or "You weren't what I was looking for"? Both are cruel. The first means he didn't meet expectations. Which he did. Yoongi wasn't wrong; Jimin was. The first time, at least. For downplaying their incompatibilities even when he discovered they didn't share emojis, or eagerness to fuck, or eagerness to be quiet. When he realized he'd have to learn a whole new sign language to say I love you. The second option means that, after him, there was only room for the opposite. And he wonders how Yoongi will translate it, and why he still cares about his fragility. He didn't think about Jimin’s when he announced in the group chat that he'd be showing up to the trip with his new partner. To finally introduce him. Yay.

Big eyes over a big nose, a monochrome wardrobe, a tiny dog. Left, right, right, left, right, right, right, right, right. Oh. Left. Tattoos, angry eyebrows, mirrors, bays. Right, right. Piercings. Maybe he doesn't need to ask himself this many questions. Left. Maybe it's enough to show up with the hottest guy on the whole app. Would someone like that agree? Right, right. Left.

Bruno
I'd die for you 

Too fast. Boring. He cracks his neck and his pinkies. Gropes over the mattress until he finds the water bottle. After the third gulp, he's ready. Out of all the options, forty minutes later, there are five guys he'd double-take on the street. Guys that would turn them into one of Those Couples. It's a good start. Now he just has to find everything else. Social skills. Charisma, culture. Not professorial; he doesn't need him to know a lot about anything. Just a little about everything. Can he be fun, too? And the hardest part: willing to pretend to be his boyfriend for a day.

M
Can I give you some advice?

The one with the broad shoulders. He doesn't like the silver streak in his fringe, but he bets that hand would make a good collar at a dinner party.

You
for free?

M
Only the first one
Hhaha

You
ive got some time

M
You won't find happiness by lying
You're better than all this

You
how do you know that?

M
I'm a wizard ;))

Jimin sighs an excess of exasperation. He isn't better than this. And of course lying will make him happy. Because he doesn't even see this as a complete lie. At some point, he'll meet someone, like always. He's just selling the idea early. Like in the initial stages of product design. It's not a lie; it's a marketing meeting.

JeyKey
u srs?

Nose guy. Jimin stretches his shoulders, alert. Maybe he doesn't intend to lecture him on the debatable lack of ethics of presenting a fake boyfriend to his best friends. Maybe he means the all-expenses-paid part. He seems cute.

You
about what

JeyKey
the fake dating thing

You
ye

JeyKey
woah
ure unreal

You
so ive heard

JeyKey
like
in the lamest way

For a few seconds, he stares at the eyes in that picture. Round, bright. They don't match the hand tattoos. What the fuck? Shame, he had a good jawline. He's about to block him when the picture of the guy from Australia appears in a strip at the top of the screen. His finger taps by mistake.

Jakeee
Are you serious?

You
SO WHAT

Jakeee
Nothing
I respect it

Oh?

Jakeee
Let me guess
Your ex was on mute in the relationship and through the breakup
And yet he's doing better than you

You
..you know him?? 

The fourth guy he's interested in asks if the food will be vegan, and the fifth never writes. And it's easy to talk to Jake. He gets the code of what he's asking. They don't exactly agree on what matters, but they do on what doesn’t. And maybe he doesn't look like he can dance, but he dresses well and has an ease with conversation that will help him blend with his friends for the necessary hours. By two in the morning, Jimin knows his mother's middle name, and they've compared wasabi brands and the best trip they've ever taken. When Jake says goodnight, Jimin feels less guilty than he did when he started creating the profile. It even seems fun. Not so crazy. With a smile, he fiddles with the app’s different functions. Maybe it's not such a bad place to meet people, if he can set the chat theme to pink. At a glance, he sizes up the messages screen. Not bad for a first try. There's only been one asshole. Which, he realizes now, kept writing after being left on read.

JeyKey
u remind me of my ex

You
you wish

Hours have passed since his last login, but the reply comes barely a minute later. A night owl, like him.

JeyKey
hell no

You
then he wishes

JeyKey
why would anyone want to be similar to u?

You
i ask myself that every day
and yet here you all are, always trying to make me seek your validation

JeyKey
chill
ure not my type

You
sure!

JeyKey
ive already dated enough ppl who overedit their pics
and so far i havent regretted breaking up with any of them

You
i dont edit them???

JeyKey
sure!

You
are you trying to make me believe you left someone like me?

Jimin regrets not being able to use italics or bold to emphasize the me. Putting it in caps would look kind of unhinged.

JeyKey
idgaf what u believe??

You
then why tf are you talking to me

JeyKey
u answered
kinda sad it took u two hours to throw it back btw

You
i meant at the start

JeyKey
oh
i was hoping it was a joke

You
you were HOPING
is it that serious ㅠㅠ

JeyKey
arent u pushing 30?

You
so

JeyKey
arent u too old to be acting like a kid?

You
arent you too young to be acting like an old man???

The screen rests for seconds. Jimin scoffs, lying on his side, and his flattened lips turn the air into a raspberry. He was sleepy when he wished a good night to Jake, but this asshole is irritating. He hates people who swear it's simpler to do the right thing. Sometimes it isn't. Sometimes life isn't simple. Sometimes people aren't simple. He hates simple people. Besides, he understood some might judge him, but he counted on them having the decency to just think it. An ellipsis dances under the last message.

JeyKey
u know what
im in

A motorcycle breaks the silence of the night, and Jimin breaks the silence of the room. The audacity to think there was still a decision to be made.

You
no ty♡

JeyKey
dont u need help?
to save ur dignity and all that

You
fyi i was talking to someone much nicer here 

JeyKey
u found a nice guy wow how cool

You
yup

JeyKey
but is he hot?

You
???

JeyKey
u need someone who’s hot

Jimin deletes the parting message he was writing. Looks aren't everything. In a fake relationship meant to signal he can have anyone he wants, maybe they are. But not everything everything. It's just a big part. And yes, Jake is handsome. Maybe not excitingly hot; he's handsome in a proper way. He's mature, elegant. Has an aura in ochre tones. The charisma of someone who grew up abroad for many years. People like hearing about customs from other countries. He can already picture Hobi asking if it's true that the water goes down the drain the opposite way in Australia.

You
hes good

JeyKey
lmao

You
and polite
which is good for impressing my friends

JeyKey
didnt u want to impress ur ex?

You
well hes part of my friend group

JeyKey
..

You
what
we were friends way before we got together

JeyKey
a messss

You
do you usually talk to ppl you dont know like that?

JeyKey
why
are u taking stock of my qualities?

You
its just tiring

JeyKey
u have very little stamina for someone so shamelessly exhausting

You
its not that deep you know
youre the only one taking it as a personal offense
not my fault someone out of your league dumped you

JeyKey
wym??
maybe i was out of their league

You
ofc you were n.n

JeyKey
ur ex dodged a bullet
i need to meet the lucky guy

You
no way
youd embarrass me in front of everyone at the first chance

JeyKey
u dont need me for that

You
why would you want to be part of something sooo childish if not to sabotage me

JeyKey
in ur bio u offer free food and drinks

You
are your precious morals that cheap???

JeyKey
i value eating more

You
i dont feel like paying u anything

With a flick of his thumb, the screen fades to black. What a zoo. App, street, bar, it doesn't matter. There's always a chance of running into a jerk who swears Jimin has 'drinks the sweetest cocktail' written all over his face. Who swears he gets him. Through a yawn, he looks at the stain above his eyes.

“You go to sleep.”

Stretching is a given, before and after class. But Jimin steals one extra beat for the heels' forgotten cradles of muscle. And when the mother of the only girl still struggling to land a pirouette en dedans corners him at the door, he pours on the charm to make sure the student leaves with her pride intact. Pure client retention. And he usually caves for warm brown sugar bubble tea on Fridays —a sweet counterweight to the day's physical grind, a negotiated truce between duty and craving. But a Tuesday lapse is just as valid. It's a mere ten-minute detour from a route that leads to an empty apartment. To silence. No one waits for him at home; certainly not on a Tuesday.

It has nothing to do with the peculiar ache he woke up with on Sunday, his phone beside him. That same unease, same furrows between his brows as when watching a stranger on the other side of his bed. It wasn't an alien feeling, just a displaced one. Suddenly his phone wasn't just the conduit for Tae's raspy laugh or the digital imprint of his mother's distant kiss. Proof he is honest, generous, compassionate. It was also proof he is a spectacularly sore loser. Because what is he angling for. Admiration? An apology? Does he want to see regret on Yoongi's face? He asks himself that every time he tugs the sheet flat before leaving. And while rinsing shampoo from his hair, and while reading the same sentence in the same book on the same bus route. Jimin stares at the brown sugar pearls clumped like sediment in his cup. No. He doesn't wish for that particular brand of obsessive circling on Yoongi. At least not for moving on. Maybe just for leaving. Can both things be true? He wants, in every conceivable universe, parting ways with him to count as a mistake. How sinister. Or terribly human. Jimin rests his chin on the straw and allows himself a moment's hope that it could be both.

"Pineapple."

"Not in season."

"Strawberries, then," Hobi counters. He's chewing something. From the sound, likely one of his peeled raw carrots. Jimin could almost smell the earthy bite through the speaker. "They improve it, too."

"Still not sold on the fruit theory."

"Not all fruit. This kind. Sweetens it up, brings it closer to melon. Oh! Melon."

"Are you speaking from collected data?"

"Orange works too."

"No oranges in September."

"It's the mineral dilution, or something in that vein."

"The minerals that make it bitter."

"Got it in one."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Shoot."

"Why the concerted effort to improve the flavor of our semen?"

The chewing stops. A beat of dead air. "Who in their right mind wouldn't?"

"Sucking any of you off wasn't on my agenda."

"What if it's you getting sucked off?" On the other end, Hobi licks the last of the oyster sauce from his fingers. "Wouldn't be your first disappearing act into that German pub. Write down melon."

And it's by pure accident, a slip of the thumb, that he opens the app again the next day. Because it glares back, that impertinent red notification bubble, a vivid flaw on a clean screen. It has nothing to do nor with the final room assignments, neither with Yoongi landing the bigger bed this round. Tradition. The room at the hall's end always goes to the one bringing a partner. He knows this. Last year, it was him and Yoongi. An absurd bit of theater, given they'd never once lasted a full night in the same bed during that first month of dating. Every attempt ended with Yoongi's quiet exile to the sofa around three a.m. Jimin moves too much, he'd sigh. But now, it seems, he's perfectly willing to share a mattress. His new boyfriend must be profoundly still. Good for him. Jimin is happy for him.

JeyKey
see u uploaded more pics
at least ure consistent with the editing

Jimin growls at the last cloud smudging the twilight. He'd forgotten about the jerk. Honestly, he'd forgotten about everyone. But he scrolls up, up, up through the effortless stream of his chat with Jake, then down, down, down, and he's amazed by its easy flow. With Jake, everything would be simple. A solid joke, a good story for the future. Something to laugh about ten years on. Even Yoongi would crack a real smile, he's sure. Is it fair to rob them of such a prime, rare chance to give him shit? It's just for a day, not the whole trip. Jimin checks the message’s timestamps. A couple from yesterday, one from today. Are you okay, Did you change your mind, Did I screw up. Yes. Maybe. No. The next two hours vanish into building the fine details of a relationship that never was but feels more durable than some that were.

You
isnt it all a little too perfect?

Jakeee
Well, beginnings usually are
It's later that everything goes sideways 😅😂

He's sweet. No one needs to know his emoji use is utterly literal. They haven't exchanged numbers, and Jimin prefers the distance. A clean escape for either side, if needed. The guy can block him; Jimin can delete the app. Easy. Healthy. He struggles to recall the warped, desperate weight it carried just days ago.

JeyKey
lets start over
what do ppl ask to get to know each other?
tell me ur fav artist or some shit like that

You
?

JeyKey
damn ok
ill go first then

You
what are you still doing here

JeyKey
u left me on read the other day

You
precisely??

JeyKey
anyway idk if i can call him my fav
but i cant stop listening to the latest from mudd the student

Why does that name ring a bell and why the hell is he searching for it right now. Jimin burrows deeper into his cavernous hoodie. On the cuff, a tiny black stain commemorates the last time he cried in it, coming home from a party. Not that long ago at all.

You
it suits you

JeyKey
is that so

You
he gives off strong unwashed hair vibes

JeyKey
????????????
do i look like i dont wash my hair????

You
idk i cant see it with that beanie on

JeyKey
[Photo]

The screen glows a cold blue in the dark, threatening to time out. It’s not that he hasn't looked at his pictures before. A glance or two, or four, checking if the tattoos were black and white or color. But he has to admit the whole vibe changes with that hair, a wavy dark mess dancing under his jaw. He'd imagined it short, like Jake's.

You
ah
you have good hiar
hair

JeyKey
bc I wash it!!!!
TAKE IT BACK!!!!!!!!

You
so youre into artists who draft lyrics in the therapist's waiting room

JeyKey
….
ok i like ariana too

You
youre such a virgo

JeyKey
k be honest do i look like an otaku?

You
what does that even mean

JeyKey
u called me gross and then a virgo
is that ur way of getting back at me for calling u pathetic?

You
you didnt call me that

JeyKey
oops

You
id forgotten what a monumental asshole you are

JeyKey
u say very mean things to me
my grandma wouldnt like u

You
if your grandma knew you were here shed lecture you into next week

JeyKey
shes here too
we matched

A laugh barks out of Jimin, sharp and sudden against the quiet ceiling. He flinches, checking the clock. Two in the morning. Whatever. He wasn't sleeping anyway. And even though he has zero intention of inviting this particular brand of chaos to the beach house, ever since Hobi switched to morning classes, there's been no one to catch the spillover of his late-night static.

You
not a horoscope guy i get it

JeyKey
no
im a functional adult

You
i mean you listen to mudd the student

He knew Yoongi was seeing a DJ. He just didn't know it was that DJ. The one with the tattoo on his neck. Jimin scrolls while the call plays on speaker. They met him last year, at one of those parties they used to invite Yoongi to when he was still producing for indie labels. Garages, plastic cups. They don’t invite him to those anymore, he’s heard. And he’s not big enough yet to get invited to the other kind. But the guy introduced himself and talked about guitarists’ egos and how trends shift with the seasons, and Jimin only smiled when he said he was heading to the States for a few months. He has a peculiar look. Staring at his photos, Jimin finds himself wondering again, just like he did that night, if the guy is sick or just chronically sleep-deprived. He supposes he’s attractive. In a different way from himself, maybe. If they walked into a room together, people would look for different reasons. But they’d look at both of them. He knows that.

“I gotta ask,” says Tae. Jimin hears him pop a bubble. “Is it going to be weird?”

“Is what going to be weird.”

“Listen, I’d get it. No judgment, okay, you know I was on your side through all the—”

“There weren’t sides.”

“But I want to know how much alcohol I’m going to need to endure the vibe.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Jimin.” 

“It won’t be weird. It hasn’t been weird these last few months.”

“But he was alone.”

“He was already seeing this guy.”

“But he came alone.”

Jimin takes a breath. It’s been days since he thought about that. He’s spent so much energy on the pre-trip logistics, weighing the pros and cons of his plan, its ethics, his packing list, that he’d forgotten what it will be to share a daily rhythm with Yoongi again. Not just with Yoongi. With Yoongi paired off. Suddenly, everything feels too textured. But the honest answer is he doesn’t know if it’ll be weird. Because he’s never had to coexist with an ex. No ex has ever been more things after ceasing to be everything.

“I might be bringing someone, too.”

Silence.

Jimin zooms in on the guy’s latest upload. What a strange face. He can’t stop looking at it.

“What?”

Yeah, those are definitely Yoongi’s fingers fastening a small pearl choker around his neck. Maybe he does miss that. His hands. On a keyboard, on his waist.

“Jimin, what?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“Since when are you seeing someone?” Tae’s voice rises as he chews his gum faster, or harder, or both. “What the fuck.”

“Not long. A month, or so.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“I wasn’t sure we’d be serious.”

“I bet you told Hobi. Did you tell Hobi?”

“No.”

“Bet you did. He’s your favorite.”

A bike passes in front of him, ringing its little bell. Jimin absentmindedly mimics the sound. It’s a turquoise kind of day, his second bubble tea of the week is at the perfect temperature, and Jin has a neckerchief he has to convince him to bring to the house so he can steal it. Ah, the house. He used to look forward to this week all year. The sea, the piano, Nam’s birthday. Jimin ends the call. It isn’t fair to miss that peace. Has he lost it for good? Jake assures him he hasn’t, two hours later, and Jimin tosses restlessly in a dream where Yoongi never stops playing Badinerie and he never stops dancing.

JeyKey
beach or mountains

You
do you ever give up?

JeyKey
when free drinks are on the line?

You
i told you youre not coming

JeyKey
ugh ure such a beach person

You
i don’t like either

JeyKey
??
wym
everyone picks one or the other

You
i hate sand and heat
and i never tan

JeyKey
then mountains

You
theyre boring

JeyKey
what u meannnn

You
theres nothing to do on a mountain

JeyKey
sports! clean air! waking up to birds!

You
woohoo

JeyKey
u are the textbook picky city boy who reminds a friend they owe him 1000won

You
weirdly specific

JeyKey
i dont believe u like animals tbh
not even cats or dogs

You
i love cats and dogs!!
but im allergic

JeyKey
lord

Against all common sense, Mondays are his favorite. A new week starts, schedules reset, new dinners are planned. And Tae has them off at the bar. The only downside this time is there’s only one week left until the trip, and his chest feels heavy. It’s not nerves anymore, not even embarrassment. It’s guilt. Because now all his friends believe there’s someone new in his life they’ll meet soon, and they seem genuinely happy for him. Like he deserves it. And they ask about his hair, his voice, his ETA, and Jimin mumbles that maybe he won’t make it, that he’s really busy. No, he hasn’t met his brother yet. Yes, he supposes he likes dark green; light green, he isn’t sure.

“You told Tae and not me?”

“Hyung.”

“It’s just weird, that’s all,” says Hobi. “We see each other almost every day. Except when I don’t wait for you. Is it because I don’t wait for you?”

“It’s been casual.”

“Until now.”

“I guess.”

“Is he your favorite?”

“Jake?”

And his stomach clenches. Thinking about how many people he’s lying to. Yoongi, his friends. Jake? Nah, he knows the score. And yet, yesterday he asked if they’d exchange numbers after it’s all over. Jimin didn’t know what to say. He likes him. Probably. There’s no reason not to. He’s calm, travels to Europe once a year, reads, eats whole grains. And he works out. He hasn’t seen his legs, but he could probably pick him up or give him a piggyback when his Chelsea boots start to hurt. Oh, god. He hasn’t even seen his legs.

“Tae. I thought it was me.”

Jakeee
What do you mean, which one do I prefer?

You
if professor oak popped the question right now
which one are you picking

Jakeee
For decor?
Are you guys throwing your friend a themed party?

That’s actually a brilliant idea. He should drop it in the group chat they open and delete every year without Nam.

You
like which starter you think is cooler
some idiot here is getting on my nerves

JeyKey
how do u pick a tuRTLE
over a dragon

You
well my TURTLE takes out your DRAGON with a single lick

JeyKey
kinkyyyy

You
are you into bestiality?

JeyKey
ure the one who started talking about spitting on my dragon or whatever

You
ew

JeyKey
ur words

You
are you gonna make a joke about squirting now

JeyKey
such a dirty mouth
besides edited

You
youre not getting pics of my lips

JeyKey
ive sent u pics of things u didnt believe were real
hair abs hands
the jawline?? tf

You
thats on you

JeyKey
i feel used……

You
youre not getting anything out of me on here

JeyKey
here?
is that foreshadowing?

You
youre not coming!!!!

JeyKey
comeon show me ur turtle😛😛

You
fuck off 

Jakeee
I’m sorry, did I offend you?
I haven’t played that in 10+ years

You
oh shit
geez your usernames are trippy

Jakeee
Are you fighting with that guy again?

You
why are charmander fans so full of themselves!!

Jakeee
Hahaha
Well you can teach which one to pick

You
yeah
sure

JeyKey
do u think squirtle has blue balls?

You
not everyones like you

JeyKey
my balls were emptied today

You
good for your hand!

JeyKey
more like someone elses

In silence, a noodle slides down to the arm of the sofa. It slips from his chopsticks when he tries to catch it, then from his impatient fingers. In the end, Jimin kisses the leather and traps it between his lips. Funny, he thinks as he sucks it in. The idea that someone he’s talking to is having sex on their own. Why should that surprise him? That some guy he’s rejected four times on an app designed to meet people has decided to actually meet people. It doesn’t matter. Not the fact, not that person. It’s just that if Jake is doing it too, he should remember to ask him to come without hickeys.

You
lazy

JeyKey
there wasnt much room for more

You
were you in an airplane bathroom?

JeyKey
work’s

You
tell me which coffee shop you work at

JeyKey
wanna stalk us?
horny

You
i have better things to look at

JeyKey
do u tho

You
im asking so i dont end up there someday by mistake

JeyKey
i solemnly swear the cream i’ll put in ur coffee wont be mine

You
im blocking you

JeyKey
why
jealous?

You
quick question
are you seeing anyone these days?

Jakeee
What do you mean?

He says that a lot, what do you mean. What are you talking about, I don’t get it, I haven’t seen that show. Can you explain the reference? Who is Trysha?

Jakeee
What do you mean?
I’m talking to you

You
but we arent anything

Jakeee
That’s not how I do things anyway

You
oh

JeyKey
u went quiet at a pretty defining moment

You
why would i be jealous
im talking with a guy who hasnt fucked anyone since he started talking to me

JeyKey
thrilling

You
him being able to keep it in his pants?
honestly yeah

JeyKey
zzz

You
im sorry that you cant even begin to comprehend how complex human relationships can be

JeyKey
relationships
so is it serious then?

You
no?

JeyKey
?

You
?

JeyKey
so why are u asking him to save his virginity for u?

You
i havent asked him anything??
he does it because he wants to

JeyKey
the cynicism lmao

You
ive been clear with him
you think im leading him on?

JeyKey
i mean
its obvious he wants something with u
why pretend u dont see it?

You
werent you the one saying i was impossible to like?

JeyKey
but that guy didnt see anything weird in ur proposal
so something is clearly off with him
i buy that hed like u

You
we’re all old enough to make our own choices

JeyKey
PFFFFF

You
what???
are you jealous?

JeyKey
i swear im not

You
you wanted to come

JeyKey
bc u say beach party and im in
new people? cool
free alcohol? yay
the whole boyfriend thing? lame but ok for one day.. could even be fun

You
so……?

JeyKey
that i had u pegged as a spoiled childish brat with terrible rejection skills

You
omg tyy

JeyKey
but u didnt seem nasty

He blinks. Then again, when his vision fogs. It’s not that he cares about the opinion of a stranger he’ll stop seeing the second he deletes the app. But would everyone else think the same if they knew what he wants to do? What he’s doing. Even if he stopped doing it now. He’s been clear. He’s not looking for anything, he said it. Out loud. And still, for days now, he can’t shake the feeling that maybe being sincere isn’t the same thing as being honest. He rubs his nose with the sleeve of his hoodie. The one he never gave back to Nam because he likes how it slips off one shoulder. He’s not crying. He’s just tired. In his room, the damp stain watches him back. It looks kind, Jimin thinks. Kinder than JeyKey. But is he even wrong? Is he being more honest than Jimin?

Wednesday dawns white instead of yellow. He likes the first weeks of September. The summer program ends and the school shuts down for two weeks before the regular term starts. Then the year finally exhales around him and he can wear layers at night again. Long pants suit him better, hair loose, as well. Tucked behind his ear instead of tied up. Jimin likes this kind of white days, but his eyes are puffy and he closes them again. He knows what he has to do. It’s just that saying goodbye to this means saying goodbye to other things that come tangled with it. And he really would’ve liked to put that off until after the trip. One quiet week with his friends, without that sense of falling behind in a race he used to be fine walking.

But without meaning to, he knocks over the glass with the last of the apple juice and, when he sees the strewn shards with little strawberries printed across them, he cries. And keeps crying while picking them up, and when he shuts the trash lid. Between the second and third bite of turkey breast, he grabs his phone and opens the chat with Jake. With his capital letters and commas, and his offer of a calm smile and a hand on his knee. He thanks him. He apologizes. For wasting his time, for making him meet a warped version of someone Jimin used to like being. He’s sorry, he’s sorry, he’s sorry. He wants to delete the app before a reply comes in, but he still needs to send one more message somewhere else. The preview of the last one still hurts.

You
im deleting this
it was a mistake
best of luck

Twenty seconds later,

cant say its been a pleasure

And forty seconds later,

JeyKey
for real?

Fuck you, he thinks. He writes it. Deletes it. He drops out of the app and stares at it, alone on an empty screen, secret, nowhere near the ones he actually uses. One bite later, he pokes it until it jiggles. This is where something ends and begins, almost at the same time as the week. And then, Hobi’s face floods the screen. Jimin smiles despite himself. It’s a photo he took of him asleep, crumpled in the corner of a sticky pub sofa, glowing in neon clothes. Hobi made him swear it would never see the light of day. Whatever. Of all the promises he’s broken, this one is the most harmless.

“Sup.”

“They don’t sell Bulbasaur decorations anywhere.”

The GPS tries to make them cross a roundabout that no longer exists, and Jin takes the first exit. It’s only three minutes longer, he assures them. They just have to watch out for the tiny sign that splits the main road into a narrow Y. All five swear they will and none of them see it in time. On the second attempt, a sharp turn drops them onto a dirt path that forces them to roll the windows up. It smells like roses, rice fields, irrigation ditches to the right and oncoming cars to the left. Finally, the sea. Jimin counts a blue house, then a white one. In the distance, their yellow house rises like a glass of lemonade.

The flower curtains on the second floor catch the breeze and wave hello, and Jimin jumps up from his seat. There’s something about that façade, with its Portuguese blue-tiled stairs and the lemon tree under the window, that makes him try every year to get the perfect photo. There has to be a right angle, but he never finds it. It doesn’t matter. Next year they’ll be back. Back to the kitchen with barely any cutlery, and the doors slamming from the wind, and the twenty feet of road that suddenly turn into the sand of a cove hemmed in by rocks.

And Monday drifts by between a watermelon that makes their teeth ache and a sun that stretches shadows into the afternoon. Yoongi will arrive at night, he announces in the group chat. A client asked him for an advance on a beat he hadn’t even exported yet. Jimin breathes in time with the waves until Hobi’s applause wakes him up and it feels like the day starts over. Tae swims out to the buoy and Nam smiles with a seed caught in a dimple. The noise his friends make is the only thing that relaxes him, he says out loud, and Hobi applauds again.

“It’s a Spanish recipe. They started to make it so they wouldn’t throw out overripe fruit.”

“It’s Portuguese.”

“It’s—” Jin cuts the peach and stirs the deep red contents of the pitcher with a wooden spoon. “Well. Same archipelago. Chop an apple.”

“Slices?”

“Chunks, like the peach. Wait. Jimin, you chop the apple.”

“This is what I get on my birthday,” Nam laments. “Rejection.”

“Your birthday is in two days.”

“Mistrust. Ostracism.”

“Go away.”

Yoongi leans on the horn just as the last glass splashes the porch table. The car wears a new dent beside the turn signal, yet the stickers cling on, stubborn. He doesn’t like them anymore, but he’s too lazy to peel them away. Jimin inhales and drinks sangria, or the other way around, and rises second-to-last, a smile fixed on his lips and a slice of lemon caught in his grip. Behind his sunglasses, his gaze rests on the figure beside Yoongi. Yijeong, the guy murmurs, his head dipping slightly. Nice to meet you, he murmurs again. No smile, but a slow, acknowledging wave. They wave back. He seems willing to be nice. And going up the stairs he sees two people weaving softly about the humidity, as if sharing a secret, and it makes perfect sense to Jimin. He doesn’t know what he expected to feel. What he does know is what he didn’t expect. He didn’t expect to feel that the people in the house are the right ones. No. That the bonds in this house are the right ones.

That’s why he cries curled around the toilet, deep into the night. Because if everything is right, why doesn’t he feel part of it. As if his role is to linger outside. Jimin retches and a bitter film coats his palate. He even feels a pang of guilt with every tender knock Hobi places upon the door. Everything is fine because it’s always been fine, the girl in the song insists. So who is he, if he's wrong when all else is right. What is he missing. Tae whistles on the other side of the hallway and Jimin vomits a thin, clear strand of vodka. Someone laughs. And everyone cannot be wrong. It must be him. Everything must be fine. Jin recounts a tale about a patient who arrived with blue hands. Nam wonders aloud about moving to Japan, Tae is buying movie tickets, Hobi is listening. Yoongi explains he uses rock wool for soundproofing because artists are more likely to be allergic to cork. Jimin hears them all from a distance. He blows his nose, unlocks his phone.

You
HIIIIIIII
SO
i know what itold yuo but
idk coul d you come???

Vision blurred into watercolors, he counts the slow, deliberate drops of saliva slipping from his lip. Under different skies he might have asked someone to keep his phone away from him, but his tongue is too clumsy now to explain to a friend this feeling of being expendable without making them feel blamed. Jake’s reply is a smudge of text he cannot decipher, and two more drops speckle the keyboard. He hadn’t expected him to be awake this late, but now he’s grateful his eyes won’t focus. Because what if the message says no. What if it’s telling him to grow up, to get his shit together. That where he is, is right. That there’s nothing to fix when something is fine.

i thouht icouldh andle this but im in the bathr.m crying so ig not
this just sucks lmaooOO
ik its super rushed
ik im the worts
shit you cant delete messages here
anyway dw imfine
really

Another dark bloom spreads across the screen and Jimin’s breath escapes in wet hiccups. If he didn’t want anything to do with him he would have stopped replying. Right?

ok ill send you the a Dress
just in case you feel like spending aday at the beacj idk
you dont have to pretend anything
its just a present for putting up withme
whatever
forget it im gonna try to slwwp

Jimin spits one final time and studies his dissolved outline in the mirror. His features are a blur, but the colors remain vivid. His nose, a flash of red. His ears, too.

ok ill send it 

The broken hallway bulb makes it easy to say goodbye to the ones who are still working on their black coffee. He’s tired. He slept little, ate little. It's better not to push it on the first day; he doesn’t want a repeat of the first year. Everyone nods. Yijeong doesn’t have the memory of that week when they ended up using the outdoor shower bathroom so Jimin could have the downstairs one all to himself, but he nods too. On the stairs, Jimin unbuttons his pants, and without undressing he drops onto the bed. It’s not as wide as the big room’s, but it’s wider than the others. Only because he couldn’t explain whether his boyfriend would show up or not, whether he’d stay or not, whether they’d meet him or not. Better this way. A big mattress just for him. Pity there are no damp stains to talk to before falling asleep. He’s gotten used to looking for compassion on the ceiling. Pity he

“Jimin.”

Pity he left the lamp on. He can see it, orange, through his eyelids.

“Jimin.”

“Hm.”

Pity that

“My, my,” someone laughs. Jimin is grateful it’s quiet. It’s late. “You didn’t even take your makeup off.”

Jimin blinks into daylight. Crusty sleep burns in the corners of his eyes, swollen like his lips and the inside of his skull. What time is it, and why does Tae sound fine. Like he doesn’t need an Advil. Jimin rolls to the other side of the mattress. From that angle he can still pretend it’s dark. What went wrong last night. Vodka and sangria, back and forth. No food, maybe.

“He’s here.”

“Hm.”

“You didn’t tell me he had a bike.”

Jimin yawns without opening his mouth. “Hm.”

Tae slaps his ass. Then the table Jimin uses as a clothes rack. Then the doorframe. He goes quiet for a few seconds, then laughs again.

“We’ll make him feel welcome, but he’ll probably want you there.”

“What are you talking about.”

“Your guy.”

“Who.”

“He just got here. Nam’s opening the gate.”

Footsteps fade over the stone floor and Jimin shapes words with a cotton-dry tongue. Who just got here. Like a spring, he jerks upright and sparks burst across his vision. His phone sleeps face down. Innocent. Cradled by the sheets. Jimin runs to the window and his stomach tries to lean out with him. Down below, a figure dressed in black climbs off a city Harley. The flower curtain cuts the view; when he yanks it aside, the figure is shaking Nam’s hand. It’s happening. What is happening. What did you do, he growls at the phone. He stumbles into the hallway and, never quite finding his balance, takes the stairs two at a time. Why does it feel like everything is about to crack open. The house, the beach, his credibility.

It was a risky move. He knew it when he made the account, when he wrote that bio, when he explained his whole deal to total strangers who were gonna form their first impression of him right then. But now he walks through the fly-strip curtain in the doorway and feels like something's off. Something else. The guy’s got his back to him, to everyone, as he undoes his helmet strap and lifts it off carefully. A tattooed arm flexes in the sun when he hangs it on the handlebar. His hair looks clean, down to the nape, despite the sweat glistening on his neck. Yeah, Jimin fucked up last night setting this whole thing up. But even in the middle of all this weirdness, something still doesn’t click, and he can’t put his finger on what. When that chest turns around, the first thing Jimin sees is a white logo dead center. Then a big nose. A mark on the cheekbone, two rings punched into his bottom lip. Jimin skids to a stop. A few steps back, his friends grin under the shade of the porch.

The last few hours flash by in fast-forward and Jimin breathes deep so he doesn’t vomit again.

The guy in front of him smiles under a canopy of wrinkled brows.

And it’s a good smile. It’s just that the one smiling isn’t Jake.

“The fuck are you doing here?”