Chapter Text
No matter how many times it happens, Jimin doesn't think he'll ever get used to this feeling.
The gymnasium is huge. One of the biggest venues he's had the opportunity to be in so far. He stands in the middle of it, his heart thumping against his chest. He lets his gaze wander around the stadium, taking in the sky-high benches crammed with audiences. He can feel the excitement radiating off of them. When he looks towards the bleachers he sees three young women smiling and waving at him, holding a poster that clearly has his name and his jersey number on it. Jimin smiles shyly, his cheeks reddening. That is one of the things he won’t ever get used to; the support and love he’s receiving from people. He can't believe he’s here, not as an audience, but as a representative.
He tilts his head up, squinting his eyes close as the lights hit his eyes. He laughs at his silliness. How does he manage to blind himself with the lights every single time? The chattering around him has become only a faint ringing in his ears. Being in the court makes him feel alive and makes him want to shit himself in the pants at the same time. It never gets easier. He feels nauseous, like he’s going to barf his organs out. He takes a deep breath to regulate his breathing.
He’s finally living his dreams.
A pat on the back of his head snaps him out of his stupor. “Jimin, stop daydreaming, let’s go.” Namjoon smiles at him knowingly.
“Okay, got it,” he says, bashful at being caught daydreaming, again. He tends to do that a lot, a habit he supposes. Namjoon leaves him to go to the benches.
Jimin looks at the crowd one more time, scratching his nose that's probably so red right now. His peace, however, was short-lived.
“Lots of fans, huh?” Jeongguk scoffs. He’s not looking at him, but at the three young women who are blushing and still waving enthusiastically at him.
Jimin’s smile falters, mostly out of shock. Jeongguk never talks to him.
“Piss off,” he scowls anyway but his cheeks are heating up. Jeongguk smirks at him.
-
Whenever someone asks Jimin what inspired him to play volleyball, his answer is unchanging: I saw my friends playing volleyball in an open space beside a basketball court and they looked so cool. They would laugh at him, how can something so simple—so stupid—spark a dream? People usually expect something grand, something—heroic maybe, but Jimin’s dream hadn’t started that way. It was simple, uncomplicated. Besides, he tends to obsess over things. If he wants something, he'll do anything to get it.
Jimin hadn’t always wanted to become a volleyball player. He used to play badminton; he competed and even won matches. He was good at it, or so they said, so Jimin pushed himself, trained hard to be better even though he didn’t feel the fire everyone talked about, the one you’re supposed to feel when you loved something. It was when he finally played volleyball with his friends that summer, held the ball, felt its roughness against his palms and did his very first serve, that he finally experienced what everyone was talking about as his whole body burned with the desire to play—to become the best.
He started out much later than most players, but that didn’t deter him, it only pushed him to learn harder. As soon as he started his second year of high school, he went for the tryouts. He didn’t miss the mocking laughter, the snide remarks about how he’s too old for this, too small.
("He’s not even that tall."
"He doesn't seem to know what he’s doing either.")
Well, they were not wrong. His height is average, not like it matters. But he knows what he’s doing. He spent all summer learning, playing with his friends, watching videos on the internet and asking around—gathering all that he could about the sport he developed an unexplainable interest in. He may not be the best— yet , but he wants to be.
Unlike everyone’s expectations, the coach was actually pretty impressed with his performance. The coach praised him, oh, boy, you’re pretty good. Are you sure you’re a beginner, huh? He’d said, and it was all the motivation Jimin needed.
Since then, Jimin has never looked back.
-
Jimin has heard enough about how he’s only here because of his teammates, especially his setter, Jeongguk. He’s been told countless times that without Jeongguk, he wouldn’t be here. But he doesn’t listen to them, he's an expert at that. He knows he’s good at what he does, and knows he’s capable enough. He believes in himself, knows his abilities well. What other people say doesn’t really affect him—he’s had years of practice ignoring nasty comments from his mother—but knowing his teammates and his coach believes in him means the world to him.
After so many rejections and unwarranted opinions about how he isn’t good enough to be in this sport, he’s finally here, in a team competing for the nationals.
He breathes deeply, suddenly overcome with nerves as he constantly does—it never gets easier. It’s one of those things that never really goes away.
The shrill noise of the whistle resounds in the gymnasium, Jimin winces slightly, but starts to get ready, shaking his limbs and doing some more stretching.
The opposing team leaves court once the allotted time for their warm up has ended. Jimin’s team gets ready for their turn. They enter the court and proceed with their drills. The first six are busy executing their plays while some of the players are practicing their digs, while the first six are busy executing their plays. The referee blows out the whistle once more, and everyone goes back to their respective benches.
Once everyone is settled, the announcer starts calling out the first six of each team. Jimin looks at his teammates who might seem calm and unaffected on the outside, but Jimin knows they’re just as riddled with nerves, excitement and the desire to win as he is. Jimin tries to stand as still as he can but for some reason, he’s never been able to, so he searches for a distraction and it comes in the form of Jeongguk.
Jeongguk, well, he’s standing very still, his hands balled into fists by his side like a petulant little child suppressing a tantrum and his brows are knitted together and it looks like he’s glaring at the players entering the court. Knowing him, he probably is. He’s always so stiff. Despite himself, Jimin laughs, and of course Jeongguk chooses that time to turn around, catching his little antics.
Jeongguk looks over his shoulder and glares at him. “What?” he mouths, annoyed. Jimin doesn’t bother with an answer and just looks away, his cheeks suspiciously dusted with pink.
Their opposing team from Konkuk University gets called first. Their team is quite known for their strong defense. Apparently, none of the balls from their opponents get to pass their defense easily.
Do Jeonghoon. Jung Sungho. Wi Sanghoon. Jo Hyunwoo. Min Hangyeol. Lee Hagun. So Daehyun.
The opponents' auras are oozing with confidence, smirks plastered on their faces, as if knowing they’re here to win. Jimin recognizes some of their names. It’s normal among players to know other players, usually by their game nicknames and some other instances by their real names.
Just in time, it’s their turn to be introduced.
“Representing the first six of Seoul National University!” The announcer nearly yelled, Jimin got worried about their vocal chords. At the mention of their team, the crowd hollered.
“Representing number ‘01’, the Setter, Jeon Jeongguk!” The audience goes wild . So much for Jeongguk teasing him about having many fans. Despite wanting to appear stoic, Jimin rolls his eyes. Jeongguk jogs to the aisle while he passes by his teammates who are all saying their good luck, Jeongguk slapping everyone's outstretched hands with his own.
Jimin cringes whenever he says it, but their team has earned themselves a name and that’s a fact. They're pretty relevant now. Their coach said it isn't a stretch to say that they're famous around the region now. SNU has always been a huge name when it comes to sports—especially volleyball.
"Representing number '12', the First Open Spiker, Kim Namjoon!"
Namjoon does the same as Jeongguk, the only difference is that Namjoon knows how to smile, his dimples showing deep and Jimin thinks he saw a girl fake-faint somewhere in the crowd.
"Calling number '09', Second Open Spiker, Min Yoongi!"
Yoongi walks, calm as ever, and nods to everyone who throws their good luck at him, showing off a languid smile as he enters the court.
"For number '13', First Middle Blocker, Park Jimin!"
Since it's the very first time, Jimin's heart thumps in his chest. Collecting himself, he walks forward, flashing everyone with a toothy smile. His ears buzz with the crowd's deafening cheers, his body filled with adrenaline that makes his blood burn with passion. Jimin goes to his position.
When he looks up, he's surprised to see Jeongguk staring at him, gaze dark with something Jimin can't decipher. It's hatred, the fucker hates you, a voice in his brain whispers. He breaks eye contact, stares at the floor, and chews on his lip. When he's sure Jeongguk has looked away, he tilts his head up again and almost squeaks when he sees Jeongguk's eyes are still set on him.
He's about to ask what he wants when Jeongguk glares at him once more before looking away. Jimin huffs, what is it now? What did he do? He feels like he can’t breathe otherwise Jeongguk will despise him for doing so, if he doesn't already.
Bummed, he focuses on his teammates instead.
"Calling number '18', Opposite Spiker, Jung Hoseok!"
As always, Hoseok practically lights up the whole gymnasium with his contagious smile and bright personality. He jumps, and shakes hands with his teammates before proceeding to his position.
"For the Second Middle Blocker, number '04', Kim Seokjin!"
Seokjin walks with such finesse and confidence like nothing can tear him down. Maybe it's because he's a senior and already has so much experience in this field beforehand. Though Jimin doubts it would affect him otherwise. Seokjin is the epitome of self-assuredness and Jimin admires him for it. When he gets to the court and sees Jimin looking, he sends him a wink, Jimin winks back.
"And finally, for the Libero, number '05, Kim Taehyung!"
Taehyung shakes his hair out of his face, then runs his hand through his hair, skips on his way, shaking everyone's hands as he goes. Jimin hears screeches beside him that he can't believe humans are capable of making. Taehyung just has that power over people, he's always been the effortlessly attractive type. The type to sweep people off of their feet without even trying.
Once the players settle into their respective positions on the court, the coach takes the remaining time before the whistle goes off to gather his team and to remind them of their game play, and encourage them, which Jimin is grateful for as always.
The whistle goes off and the game starts.
-
Jimin’s team is the first one to serve. Yoongi inhales deeply, rolls his shoulders as he waits for the signal to go off. The whistle blows and he serves the first ball. Much to their dismay, the referee calls it outside because it went too long. The opposing team cheers. Yoongi sighs in disappointment and Namjoon taps his back in reassurance.
Now the opposing team gets ready for their turn.
Lee Hagun serves the ball, received by Taehyung. The receive was too low, but Jeongguk managed to set it to Jimin with a back quick set. In return, Jimin spikes the ball but Do Jeonghoon and Jung Sungho of the opposing team manage to catch up with his speed and Sungho is able to touch the ball, resulting in the ball going into their court. However, Joo Hyunwoo digs the ball and Sungho chases after it and sets it to Jeonghoon.
Net block.
SNU scores, the crowds hollers.
Namjoon goes into position, he bends down and wipes at the sweat dripping down his forehead. He dribbles the ball and serves. The ball is perfectly received by Wi Sanghoon, and the ball is tossed to Min Hangyeol into a running set but a solid block by Jimin and Jeongguk is made.
"Mega block by the amazing duo!" The commentator jumps from his seat, banging his fists on the desks in excitement.
SNU scores another point and the crowd goes wild. Their team runs to them and gives them a congratulatory pat on the back. Jimin turns to Jeongguk with a smile, about to go for a one-arm hug with him but Jeongguk steps away, leaving him wounded.
-
During mid-game, the gymnasium is on fire, both teams driven with the desire to win, the crowd equally as hyped up.
Now, Hoseok stands at the end of the court, ready to serve the ball. As he dribbles the ball, the crowd is silent with anticipation and then the ball is flying across the air, and he scores.
"That's Jung with a powerful jump serve!"
The crowd cheers for him, shouting his name and raising their banners. Namjoon pulls them for a team hug, always so proud of them. Jimin is surprised to find Jeongguk beside him whose lips are curling into a smile though he's obviously trying to suppress it. Jimin is careful not to get too close to him, but Jeongguk puts his arm over his shoulder, not really touching his skin. Jeongguk catches him staring again but he looks away quickly.
They all pull back, Jimin snaps out of his daze.
-
"14-16! SNU is two points behind!" The commentator states.
Another jump serve by Hoseok, the opponent had a hard time receiving the ball but they managed to put the ball up. Lee Hagun sees an open spot and strikes with a down the line hit but Taehyung is able to cover it. Hagun is pissed, having expected for the attack to go in perfectly. At this, Jimin’s team lets go of the breath they didn’t know they were holding until Taehyung received the ball.
Feeling smug, Jeongguk runs into the net, shoots a glance to the blockers to check for an open spot to execute a play, and mutters under his breath, “Perfect receive, baby.”
Everyone goes back into their positions, preparing for a synchronous attack. The SNU team runs towards the net, looking expectantly at Jeongguk, eyes wide, sweaty foreheads, all of them desperately asking for the ball. The opponents are clueless as to where Jeongguk will set it, anxiously waiting for a move to happen.
“A point for SNU!” The commentator says. It all happens too fast and then— “A power hit by Park!”
“A zero tempo attack by the amazing Park-Jeon duo!” The other commentator screams into the mic, and everyone in the gymnasium goes berserk. The screams are as deafening as they are music to Jimin’s ears. He basks in it, waving timidly as his supporters scream for his name, cheering for him tirelessly. The screams for Jeongguk are just as loud, Jimin looks at him, and finds himself unsurprised at the sight of him looking at the floor, chewing on his bottom lip. It may have gone unnoticed by others but not by him, it's his nervous habit. Before he can say anything, his teammates are swarming him with hugs. Namjoon slips his hand on Jimin’s waist, and tells him he did a great job. Jimin smiles, and completely misses the way Jeongguk’s face falls even more.
-
SNU loses the second set. Jeongguk is distracted, unfocused. His sets are short, sometimes too low, other times too high. He lost control and it affected everyone. They recovered nonetheless, by the third set. Konkuk was ahead by several points in the first few minutes but SNU managed to catch their bearings. It was a close match, but SNU won the set by four points.
21-25.
The hours fly by, like they always do in a game. Pumped with adrenaline and the want to win, it is always easy to get lost in time ; to get into their own zones and in their focused minds.
By the fourth set, everyone is on edge, both teams are eager to win, to bring honor to their respective schools. Even the audience are stiff in their seats, holding their breaths, eyes wide as they anticipate the players’ next attack. With the score of 24-19, SNU is on the lead.
Jimin stands in the serving area, breathing heavily, sweat dripping to his neck. He’s been in the exact position for many times but his hands still shake slightly as he holds the ball, serving for the possible winning point. The crowd is shouting, “ Service ace! Service ace! Service ace !” Their banners shaking violently in the air that most of them are torn.
His heart is pounding in his chest and it's all he can hear. If he messes up, they will lose their chance of winning and they are so close. Just one more point and they will bring home the honor. He doesn't want to go back to being a disappointment when he's just redeemed himself. He wants to do well, wants to make his team proud.
Jimin lets out a loud exhale as he spins the ball with his pointer finger and left hand. He brings it to a halt with his right hand before tossing the ball into the air with the same hand.
One moment, the gymnasium is roaring, waiting for the serve to come, the next the crowd is breaking out into triumphant shouting. The opposing team stands there, dumbfounded as they fail to receive the serve. It came too fast, happened before they even had the time to process it.
The referee blows the whistle and everyone is brought back into reality.
“There you have it! A service ace from SNU’s Park Jimin!” The commentator shouts, face red, and the veins in his neck almost popping out. “He closes the game with that spectacular game, scoring 19-25!”
Jimin stands there for a few moments, unable to process what just happened. Then, All of a sudden, he’s being lifted in the air, strong arms around his torso.
“Fuck, Jimin! You did it again!" Namjoon all but screams, spinning him in the air.
Jimin giggles. "Ah, hyung! Let me down, please!" he squeaks, slapping Namjoon's arms slightly. Namjoon obliges and slowly puts him down, and as soon as his feet touch the ground, he's being pulled in.
"You're fucking amazing, Jimin!" Taehyung says, squeezing him tight.
"Thanks Tae, I—can't breathe." Taehyung lets him go with a laugh.
He can see Hoseok and Seokjin running to him, and he meets them with a grin.
"Jimin, how are you so good? When did you become so good, huh? Is my geniusness rubbing off on you? See, this is what training with me does!" Seokjin says playfully but Jimin can see through him, he's happy and proud.
"Of course, hyung! I learned from the best," Jimin induges him.
"Ey, his ego is already bloated, don't add any more to it," Hoseok chides but there's no bite to it. Seokjin hisses at him. "Congrats, Jimin! Aren't you a star?" Hoseok ruffles his hair. Jimin likes it, being coddled. It makes him happy.
"Thank you, hyung!"
Namjoon calls out to them, and everyone follows. Jimin lags behind a bit, searching for someone. He doesn't even know why he bothers, why he waits for him. It's not like he cares but Jimin can't help it. Someone tugs his hand and he feels hope bloom in his chest, only to see it's Yoongi.
"Congrats," Yoongi whispers. Jimin offers him a smile.
They shake hands with their opponents, pat their backs to say they've worked hard today, too.
"Great play, Park," Sanghoon says. "I'm looking forward to playing with you again soon."
Awkward, Jimin just smiles. Sanghoon leaves. Jimin turns around to leave too, eyes focused on the ground. He shouldn't feel so low, they won, for fuck's sake. He sighs, walks, and bumps into something—someone.
Jimin looks up. It's Jeongguk.
"I," Jimin starts. "Where did you go?" He hasn't seen him since they were announced as the winners. Jeongguk doesn't care about the formalities, doesn't shake hands with opponents, doesn't bother smiling at their supporters. Things he's been reprimanded for countless times and things that don't seem like they're going to change.
Jeongguk ignores his question, says instead, "Is that prick bothering you?"
Jeongguk does that, suddenly talks to him after ignoring him for an entire day, sometimes even weeks.
"W-who?" Jimin frowns, follows the direction where Jeongguk is glaring. Sanghoon. "Oh, no, he just—said something."
Jeongguk nods, huffs, and walks past him like he isn’t there at all. Jimin didn't hear the words he wanted to hear from him, berates himself for seeking them from him. Jimin deflates, Jeongguk is so hard to read sometimes. Scratch that, he can never read Jeongguk, it's just impossible. Dejected, Jimin trails behind him.
When they're all together, they form a horizontal line in front of the audience to express their gratitude and bend at their waists for a deep bow. The audience claps for them as they always do. It's encouraging to hear them shout how proud they are of their team, and how they intend to support them throughout their journey.
"Thank you so much!" Their team says in unison, as loud as they can, and hopes the audience can feel just how grateful they are and how happy they are for the win.
They've come so far.
-
"You guys did an amazing job today! You guys just keep on getting better, huh? Your teamwork blows my mind, you're all so good together!" Their coach, Mr. Seo, gushes, clapping his hands like an overexcited seal. He's a man in his 40s who's been with them since they were still trainees, the one who tirelessly teaches them everything they know and they still need to know, who guides them through everything. Mr. Seo is more like a friend to them; he's kind, easy to talk to, but strict when he needs to be. Most of all, he's patient. Though Jimin supposes he needs to be when he's handling a bunch of hormonal guys who just left their teenage years. The team is grateful for him.
"It's all thanks to you, coach," Namjoon says, ever so humble, but Jimin agrees with him.
"We couldn't have done it without you, coach, you know that," Yoongi adds, slings his arm around Hoseok.
"Ya! What kind of nonsense are you babbling? I only helped you with some stuff, you guys did everything so stop thanking me! Understood?" he scolds, but doesn't let any of them say a thing. He turns around and leaves first.
They all burst into fits of laughter. Mr. Seo is so bad with compliments it's hilarious. Sometimes they compliment him nonstop on purpose, poke some harmless fun at him.
"And you, Jeon, we'll have to talk," he says, a little more serious now.
Ah, this again. It doesn't even surprise them anymore when after every tournament, Jeongguk gets scolded by their coach. Jeongguk is stubborn, he does things while in the game that are so unexpected it leaves the rest of his teammates in a daze. Most of the time, he succeeds and scores them a point, other times it messes up their game play.
Somewhere in the middle of the second set, Jeongguk did something unpredictable, missed and pretty much gave away a point to the opposing team. They brushed it off and didn't pay much attention to it because the game is more important than anything. They'll have to talk it out sooner or later. Not like they haven't yet. They did, countless times, but Jeongguk doesn't really listen, does he?
"Okay," Jeongguk nods, face as unreadable as ever.
As they walk to their transport, ready to retire after a long day at the tournament, Jimin feels the tiredness start to seep at his bones. His eyes are heavy, his limbs feel like jelly, and all he wants to do is sleep. He can't though, he still has a shift to cover at the convenience store he works at. Jimin says as much when his team tells him they're going for some Korean barbecue.
"Sorry," Jimin says, sheepish. They're all standing in front of him, looking at him. Jimin looks to the side and catches Jeongguk staring him down. Jimin averts his eyes. "I'll make it up to you next time. I can't today, I've had too many absences this month I might get fired."
It makes him feel bad, having to turn down invitations from them almost all the time. He feels out of place, wishes he could just hang out with them, but he also has bills to pay.
They all sigh. At one point, all of them have come to him and told him he can always lean on them, ask them for help if things get too tough. Jimin brushed it off, told them it's not that serious, that he's only working to pass time, which is a half-truth. He's not sure they believe him but that's all Jimin is willing to give them.
"At least let us drop you off at work," Namjoon offers.
"And—that's an order," Seokjin squints his eyes at him, a clear warning.
Jimin laughs. "Okay, hyung, so clingy."
"Ya! Who are you calling clingy? Do you want a piece of this, huh?" Seokjin flexes his arms, and his face is so red, it's actually alarming. The team just laughs at him.
"Aren't you tired?" Jeongguk says, and now everyone's looking at him, but he doesn't care, he's only looking at Jimin. Jimin would think Jeongguk blurted it out, but everything Jeongguk says and does is deliberate, if a little rash.
Jimin blinks, unsure how to answer that. He takes too long, he knows he does because their teammates left and went to the bus first to give them some space.
"I can't afford to be tired," is what he says.
Jeongguk stares at him, like he always does, as if it doesn't raise the hairs on Jimin's body, as if it doesn't heat his cheeks up. Jeongguk doesn't talk for a while and Jimin thinks he's going to be ignored again.
"Can't you take a day off?" Jeongguk speaks, he's standing a little closer to him.
"I just said I can't," he says. Then, "don't worry about it."
Just as fast, Jeongguk's guards are up, shoulders tense. "Who said I'm worried?" he frowns.
Jimin sighs, tired. Jeongguk talking to him is just as bad as Jeongguk ignoring him. He doesn't know what to make of it, wishes he could read his mind so he’d know what's going on in that head of his.
It's frustrating. Jeongguk is so frustrating.
He doesn't bother giving him a reply, he turns around and starts walking to their transport. Perhaps, he can get some sleep on the bus, get some recharging before his shift starts.
A few steps forward and there's a hand circling his wrist. Jimin turns around and sees Jeongguk frowning at him, again. Jimin raises an eyebrow.
"What?"
"You look beat. It's better if you take some rest," Jeongguk insists.
"I can't, Jeonguk. I have to work to keep a roof over my head, to be in school, to keep myself from starving." Then, because he's annoyed as fuck, "I actually have to work, unlike you," he hisses.
The words are out before he can stop himself, he slaps himself mentally. He shouldn't have said that, but he's tired as fuck and Jeongguk is infuriating.
Sure, Jeongguk's family is well-off, but Jeongguk has never used that against him or anyone for that matter. Jimin knows Jeongguk hates it when his family is brought up this way. As if that’s all he and his family are, their wealth.
Jeongguk doesn't look mad or upset, face remaining stoic, but he lets go of Jimin's hands and takes a step back and Jimin feels so fucking guilty.
"I," Jimin pauses, grip tightening on the sling of his bag. "I'm sorry."
Jeongguk pays him no mind. "Let's go, you'll be late," he says and walks off. Jimin follows with his head lowered.
In the minibus, Jeongguk sits beside him.
-
Coming from a family who makes a living just well enough to get by taught Jimin a lot of things, but most importantly to be grateful for what he has and to not ask for more.
As a kid, he didn't think much of it, though he cried when they went to the store and his mom would yell at him for asking for a toy because they couldn't afford it. He cried, too, when he'd be lounging around the living room watching his favorite cartoon and his parents would start screaming at each other. He was too young to remember exactly what they fought about—they fought too much—but he recalls it being about money. Jimin's mom, screaming at his dad to man up and get a better job, saying she's tired of living this life. His dad would scream, pull his hair out, say he tries his best, that he's sorry and to wait a little more.
He doesn't know when dinner started being just him and his dad instead of the three of them, doesn't know when exactly did things in the house only became enough to accommodate two people instead of three. But one day he woke up and it was his dad who was dressing him up for school. Where his mom had a frown on his face whenever he would tell Jimin to put his hands up so he could wear his shirt, his dad had a smile on his face, gentle as he pulled Jimin's shirt down on his body, pressed down on the wrinkles, making Jimin giggle because it tickles, appa. Where Jimin's mom would yell at him for eating too slow that he'd be late for school, Jimin's dad would wait for him, gentle, always so gentle with him, as he sat in front of him and told him to chew his food properly so he wouldn't get a tummy ache.
His dad isn't that bad, he cares for him and Jimin knows that, though he's now married to someone else, too. He's living a better life, but he still remembers Jimin, reaches out to him from time to time, asks: How's your day? How's school? Are you eating well? How's volleyball? Jimin wonders—fears—when he'll start to forget about him too.
His mom on the other hand he hasn’t talked to in so long, doesn't see any reason to do so when his mom has made it clear from the start that she doesn't want anything to do with him. It's always been like that ever since he was a child. No loving pats in the head when he did a good job, no hugs or caresses on his back after a long day of school to remind him he's been missed, that his mom was glad he was home, and definitely no bedtime stories. His mom fed him though, kept him clothed, did everything he needed. At least his mom did the bare minimum, that's more than what other kids get. But he supposes that's wrong too—comparing himself to others.
He's long accepted his reality but he can't hide the bitterness he feels in his bones whenever he remembers that his parents had moved on. They moved on without him. He's left behind. Abandoned. It keeps him up at night, breaks his heart, and tries not to think of it the next day.
Jimin just got home from his shift at the store and he's bone tired, eyelids drooping heavily. He goes straight to the fridge and it’s muscle memory how he rummages through it so he could get his daily dose of orange juice only to find there’s none. He groans, he has to pick up some tomorrow at the store. Left with nothing else to do, he showers, dries his hair. His bed creaks when he lays down on it but he sighs in satisfaction, glad that he can finally rest. He stares at the shitty ceiling of his shitty apartment, he looks back on his day. The game, his team, the cheers, winning, Jeongguk.
He's had a long day.
Sighing, he grabs his phone and texts his father. Appa, we won! We're advancing to the regionals! He puts his phone down on his chest and closes his eyes. He doesn't expect a reply because it's past midnight but a couple of minutes later his phone is vibrating.
Incoming call…
Appa.
-
Whether or not there is a tournament, their team practices every day, and while some of them are unable to attend due to the fact that they are college students with a slew of projects and assignments, they still manage to make it work. None of them like using volleyball as an excuse to skip class, but it can't always be helped. Their professors have signed a waiver stating that, while players are not excused from activities, they must be given sufficient time to complete them. In addition, exams and other tests must be given a special day to be taken if they are unable to do so on the scheduled date. Regardless, some of their professors like to whine about it, telling them that they should concentrate more on their studies because a damn sport can't guarantee their future.
Jeongguk has had enough of all of that. He's heard it a million times, but it still irks him. One time, he'd told one of his professors to shut up, resulting in him being sent to the guidance office. Did he apologize? Of course not. Jeongguk finds it difficult to apologize when he has done something wrong, and fuck him if he apologizes to someone who has insulted him.
His father had to go to school and get him out, and he’s probably too old to be picked up from school because of such reasons, but Jeongguk’s father is rich and influential, might as well take advantage of it.
He's sitting in the lecture hall right now, the last class of the day, listening to his professor ramble on about how she met her husband, how they live in the mountains with their children, and how they grow their own vegetables and fruits, all while looking incredibly proud. As if anything she just said has anything to do with her lesson. Jeongguk yawns, he couldn’t care less.
Five minutes left.
The bell rings and they’re dismissed. As he packs his things, he tries to recall if he has anything important to do today, and thankfully there’s nothing. Due to a group presentation in one of his majors, he had to miss practice yesterday. Jeongguk stands up and slings his backpack over his shoulder. He could hear his classmates saying their goodbyes and inviting one another out to eat. Jeongguk does none of these things, and he even pretends not to hear when someone wishes him a good day and says goodbye.
Jeongguk hasn't always been as closed off as he is right now. He was emotional as a child, as per his mother. She said Jeongguk was always making a fuss, asking countless questions because he's just so curious. He would ask about nothing and everything with his big round eyes. He would also cry at everything because that's how he expressed his emotions. He would sob uncontrollably until whatever bothering him was resolved. He loved making friends as well, because isn't it fun to have friends with whom you can climb the monkey bars or play in the sandbox and get their hands dirty with mud? However, it broke his heart that whenever Jeongguk approached, they would avoid him like a plague.
He didn't understand why they didn't like him, he just wanted to play with them. He couldn't understand why it was so hard for them to include him when he just wanted to be friends. He even offered to share his big toy truck that his mom got him and everyone was going crazy for that toy, but still, nothing changed. So, he cried and cried.
It was when he was ten years old and tried to make friends for the umpteenth time, approaching a group of four boys and asking, "Can I sit here?" because he had never had anyone to eat with except his mother and father, but that was at home, and eating with friends at school looked so much fun. He bowed down and apologized as he stood there waiting for their response, which he could tell by the way their smiles faded. He ate alone and never attempted to make friends.
"You know why no one wants to be friends with you?" Someone told him when he was twelve, "It's because your parents suck, they're thieves, and the greediest gold-digging lying assholes."
Sure, his parents had a bad reputation, and everyone in the town where they came from never really liked them, and this caused Jeongguk to be shunned as well. Jeongguk’s parents are strict and extremely firm, sometimes to the point of being seemingly cold-hearted. They have a set of rules for everything, as well as values that they take very seriously. Nonetheless, they were his parents, and he was the one who knew them best. They're not perfect, and he can't help but dislike them at times, but they do their best to look after him and ensure he has a comfortable life.
That day Jeongguk got into his first fist fight, and broke someone's nose. He never apologized for it, feeling not even an ounce of guilt. Jeongguk's father praised him for it, telling him he did a fantastic job and that he should never allow anyone to think they are superior to him, while his mother didn’t say much.
After Jeongguk was expelled from school, his parents decided to start over and relocate to the city. They haven't looked back since.
Their plan to start over was successful. Except for the fact that they were new to the neighborhood and were filthy rich, no one in the city knew much about them. Jeongguk has long given up on making friends and developing relationships. He's been fine on his own for so long. He doesn't need anyone.
He snaps out of his thoughts when someone pokes at his arm.
"Are you okay?" Jimin asks, and he's frowning. He looks genuinely concerned.
Jeongguk finds himself staring at Jimin instead of responding. It's nothing out of the ordinary, and Jeongguk can't deny that he enjoys watching Jimin squirm.
Jimin is dressed casually, but it's clear that he made an effort. He hasn't changed into his volleyball uniform yet, it's still early, and their teammates won't arrive for another hour.
When Jeongguk doesn't respond, Jimin adds, "You looked like you were spacing out," and he must've misinterpreted Jeongguk's staring as glaring because— "I'm sorry. Are you angry?"
Jeongguk must appear to be. He never smiles, and the fact that he's always frowning doesn't help. "No," he says.
Jimin lets out a long sigh and sits a few feet away from Jeongguk.
When Jeongguk looks over at him, he notices that Jimin is scratching his nose. Jeongguk used to think it was strange that Jimin's nose was so itchy that he had to scratch it so often. Eventually, he realized that Jimin only does it when he is nervous or shy.
"You," Jimin starts, scratches at his nose, and pauses.
Cute. Jeongguk’s eyes widen in surprise at the thought. How weird would it be if he slapped himself now?
"Why do you do that?" Jimin asks.
"Do what?" Jeongguk raises an eyebrow.
Jimin turns to look at him but looks away just as fast, flustered when his gaze meets Jeongguk's.
"You never talk to me at tournaments, or even during practice. It's like I'm invisible to you—but then you suddenly see me and want to talk to me. Why? I don't get it," he says, soft, looking so troubled.
That's how Jimin has always been; he says whatever is on his mind without any hesitation. Jeongguk is jealous of him for that—and a lot of other things.
He doesn't know what to say but he also doesn't want to ignore Jimin when he's looking at him so earnestly, eyes wide, which is stupid because isn't that what he's been doing all this time? Ignoring Jimin?
Jeongguk turns to face Jimin—which has the latter straightening up his body—and goes with the easiest thing to say. "I don't like you," he says, voice flat.
A flicker of hurt flashes across Jimin's face. "What?"
Jeongguk looks away. He hates seeing the hurt on Jimin's face, even when he's the one who inflicted it.
He doesn't like Jimin because he's such a warm person who everyone loves, who shines upon them all. He's everyone's friend, and he smiles that pretty smile at just about anyone that crosses his path.
He doesn't like Jimin because Jimin makes him feel things he shouldn't. He doesn't like that Jimin makes his stomach churn whenever he smiles and his eyes disappear, or when he as much as looks over at him. He doesn't like Jimin when he gets too close to anybody else.
He doesn't like that Jimin made sure everyone in their team is good to Jeongguk because they're a team and Jeongguk is not only their teammate, but their friend.
He doesn't like that Jimin is good to him, and takes care of him as much as he can because no one has ever been good to Jeongguk willingly, so why would he believe any of it is sincere?
Most of all, he doesn't like Jimin because he's so fucking good at something that Jeongguk is supposed to be the best at. Jeongguk used to be the center of attention, the star player, the one and only thing he is supposed to feel good about, and now Jimin has stolen that away from him. Jeongguk was raised to be the best, spent all his life training to always be on top because being number one is the only thing that's acceptable to his parents.
"Did I do something wrong? Can you tell me what you don't like about me?" Jimin pleads, and he's scratching nose so bad it's like a tomato.
"Your nose."
Jimin falters, and covers his nose. "My nose?"
Jeongguk closes his eyes, he can't believe he just said that out loud. "Never mind." He gets up on his seat to leave when Jimin grabs his hand.
"Can you tell me? What you don't like?"
Jeongguk clenches his jaw, he's starting to get annoyed for real. He wished Jimin would stop pushing it. "You. I don't like you. I don't like that you act like you know me. I don't like that you act like we're friends. We're not." He yanks his arm away, ready to leave when he hears Jimin laugh.
Jimin looks at him, he's smiling but it's fake, strained. "You're being mean to me on purpose, aren't you? Don't do this."
And Jeongguk hates it, the way Jimin's voice wavers.
He hates it, too, how Jimin can read him so easily.
Jeongguk clenches his fist and bites his lip so hard it draws blood.
Jimin has been nothing but kind to him. He looks after him the best he can and this is how Jeongguk repays his kindness. Jeongguk is such an asshole. He knows. But he doesn't know how to be anything but this. He doesn't know what to do so he pushes people away when they try to get too close because no one's ever wanted to be friends with him and it makes all his hackles rise up.
"I—" I'm sorry, he wants to say but words won't come out, why is it so hard?
Jeongguk clenches and unclenches his fists, mustering the courage to say it but Jimin waves him off. Jimin walks away and he looks so defeated that something in Jeongguk breaks.
He fucked up again, didn't he?
—
Jimin doesn't speak to him or even look at him for the rest of the practice, which shouldn't bother him, but it does, to the point where he couldn't focus on the game and made several mistakes that earned him a reprimand from their coach.
"What's the matter with you, Jeon? What's got you so distracted?" Their coach frowns, his hands on either side of his hips, a clear image of disappointment.
Jeongguk shakes his head as an answer. Mr. Seo sighs, not having expected much from him.
"You have to stay focused, and please, for the love of all the volleyball deities, stop doing things on your own; you have your team, so work with them. We've talked about this, haven't we?" Mr. Seo rubs a hand over his face, exasperated.
Jeongguk has always done things on his own, and it's difficult for him to break that habit when he's grown accustomed to doing things alone, not having people to talk to, and his actions not having an impact on others.
He's heard people tell him he's fucking arrogant. They say he's overly confident and full of himself, that he must think he's so good he doesn't need anyone or anyone's advice for anything. They're not wrong, Jeongguk knows he's good at volleyball.
But does Jeongguk think he's good enough?
"Jeon?" Mr. Seo calls out when he doesn't respond, annoyed.
Jeongguk can feel everybody's eyes on him, except Jimin whose eyes are fixed on the ground. Jeongguk stares at him, waiting for Jimin to lift his head like he usually does. He doesn’t.
"Yes, coach," Jeongguk replies, bowing his head in apology.
It must be so exhausting to have Jeongguk in their team. He always spoils the mood during practice, ruins their routines by doing something he shouldn’t. It must be so exhausting to have to put up with him. Both Mr. Seo and his teammates must want nothing more than to get rid of him, but they can’t do that, can they? After all, Jeongguk’s father is a rich and influential man.
He can't help but wonder if they're keeping him because they think he's eligible and good enough to be in their team or if because his father donated enough money to the school to build another gynasium. Jeongguk won't put his parents past it.
Mr. Seo decides to call it a day. They bow and say their thanks, Mr. Seo waves them off and tells them to go home and get some rest.
They all head to the locker room, with the exception of Yoongi and Hoseok, who leave right away, claiming they need to go to the school library to study.
Jeongguk, on the other hand, goes to get a drink at the cafeteria. He inserts a coin into the machine and gets himself a can of Pocari. He's supposed to leave now that he's had a drink, but he's only taken two steps away from the machine before he finds himself inserting yet another coin. The clang of the can on the pick-up box brings him back to reality, and he quickly picks up the orange juice can and returns to their locker room.
Why on earth did he get orange juice? He doesn't even like it. He tells himself he only got it because he had some spare change, nothing else. Everything becomes clearer when he enters the locker room and comes face to face with Jimin who’s just about to leave.
"H-hey," Jeongguk says. Jimin doesn't spare him a glance, just keeps himself rooted to his place and it bothers him so much.
They stand there in silence; Jimin with his head lowered, fingers scratching at his nose, and Jeongguk holding the drinks in his hand tightly.
Before he can make sense of what he's doing, Jeongguk is reaching out and grabbing Jimin's hand away from his nose. Jimin finally looks at him, eyes wide and… pretty.
"I—your nose, it's red," Jeongguk says, and he wants to just—disappear. He keeps bringing up Jimin’s nose and Jimin must think he’s a weirdo.
Jimin blinks at him, once, twice, and then his cheeks are flushed with red. It looks lovely on him. Jimin is lovely. Lovely, lovey—
“Take this," Jeongguk says, pressing the orange drink against Jimin's chest. Jimin scrambles to catch it.
"It's for me?" Jimin asks, soft. Jeongguk wants to touch his face, see if his skin is as soft as it looks.
"Yeah, I—" You love orange drinks and I thought of you so I got it. "No one wants it so you can have it."
Jimin looks down at the drink in his hand before returning his gaze to Jeongguk. He must know Jeongguk is lying if the way he's biting his lip to hold back a smile is anything to go by. Jimin's face have become a little brighter, gone is the gloominess he had earlier because of Jeongguk's fuck up.
I wonder if you know how sorry I am.
Jeongguk likes to think Jimin does, because Jimin smiles at him—soft, the kind that makes Jeongguk's stomach feel funny—before leaving.
—
Jeongguk thinks Jimin hasn't changed. Not one bit. He's still the same boy who will give up his seat for someone else even if it could mean he'd have to stand up for a long time and cramp his legs. He's still the same boy who treats everyone with kindness, who smiles warmly at everyone like he has no care in the world.
Jeongguk clearly remembers when he met him four years ago. Jeongguk’s high school had the opportunity to participate in a yearly sports event in which various teams from different schools traveled to meet each other. That was when he first saw him, looking all cute and even smaller than he is now although it may seem even impossible.
Jimin who looked like a fool with his chubby cheeks that pushed his eyes closed when he smiled, those same cheeks that seemed like they were always a permanent shade of red. It was the first time Jeongguk had seen someone who seemed so carefree and confident. Jimin's presence was, and continues to be, so compelling that Jeongguk can't help but notice him. Jeongguk stared too hard at him and the next thing he knew, Jimin was in front of him.
Jeongguk could still recall the way Jimin smiled at him, and could still recall the way he was too stunned to speak. How can someone smile like that to somebody he doesn't even know? Jeongguk couldn't explain how it made him feel at the time, but he now believes it was a hint of happiness. It's been so long since someone looked so happy to see him. He guessed he felt somewhat special. That happiness, however, did not last long. Jimin was like that to everyone, he soon realized. He's just kind, too kind.
Jeongguk has always been a jerk, so he just ignored Jimin. He tried to act unaffected whenever Jimin would suddenly show up in front of him and ruffled his hair, brimming with affection, as if Jeongguk had hung all the stars in the sky. He left when Jimin came, looked away when Jimin looked at him, stepped back when Jimin tried to touch him. He avoided Jimin in any way he could, and didn’t let the way Jimin looked so hurt whenever he did bother him. He would never meet him again anyway.
Except he did. Every year during the sports-meet.
To be honest, Jeongguk admires Jimin. Although Jimin is unlike most of the players who started to play volleyball the moment they could walk, Jeongguk could say that Jimin is better than most players. Jimin is like someone with decades of experience who could teach them all a thing or two. He plays with a level of zeal that Jeongguk has never seen before. He always has a smile on his face, and even if it fades a little with fatigue, it never goes away. Jimin is great, though Jeongguk would never admit that out loud.
Jimin, like everyone else, tried his hardest to approach Jeongguk. He spoke to him in the same way he spoke to everyone else who played with them. He treated him the same way he treated everyone else, and he was as kind to him as he was to everyone else. There's literally nothing to dislike about Jimin so Jeongguk doesn't know why Jimin pisses him off so much. It bothered Jimin too, the way he couldn't seem to get close to Jeongguk, and confronted the latter. Jeongguk brushed it off until he could, and if Jeongguk knew back then just how honest Jimin was, he wouldn't have talked to him.
("Why do you hate me so much? What did I do?" Jimin asked, frustrated.
"Nothing."
"Then why are you acting like this?"
"I'm not acting like anything," Jeongguk said, which only seemed to spur Jimin's anger on.
Jimin looked at him, bit his lip so hard it might’ve broken, and screamed . "You're so frustrating! I like you, I want you to like me, too, but why do you hate me?")
Jeongguk didn't think Jimin was being serious back then, or at least he didn't think he understood what Jimin meant. Jimin likes… him? In what way? And why? No one likes Jeongguk and he's aware of that. But it's Jimin and Jimin likes everyone because he's kind and sees the good in everyone.
He was convinced it was only that, until one day he found Jimin waiting at the bus stop near Jeongguk's school.
("What are you doing here?" Jeongguk says.
"You're avoiding me." Jimin cuts to the chase, always so straightforward.
"What makes you say that?"
"You're not replying to my texts," Jimin sulks.
Jeongguk frowns. "Do I ever?" It's a fact that Jeongguk isn't the best texter, but that probably came out too harshly. Jimin's glaring at him but his eyes are watery. Jeongguk gulps.
"Does me liking you make you so uncomfortable?"
"No? You like everyone."
Jimin groans. "I didn't mean it that way, you idiot. I mean, I like like you," he confesses, voice going quieter with each word.
"I don't believe you."
What's there to like?)
But life has a way of working itself out, and he discovered that Jimin is not only a student at the same university as him, but also a member of the varsity volleyball team. Jeongguk assumed Jimin wouldn't talk to him because of how they left things out, but Jimin smiled and pretended as if nothing had happened. It both bothered him and relieved him.
Jimin was still as nice as he had always been.
Jeongguk couldn't pinpoint why Jimin irritated him so much at the time, but it wasn't until years later, when he saw Jimin helping a player he'd never met patch up his wounds, that he realized. Jimin wasn't the issue; it was his kindness to everyone and his treatment of everyone in the same way that made Jeongguk wonder if Jimin was ever sincere with him.
Of course, he never asked Jimin about it. He just avoided him more. Jimin was hurt—he told Jeongguk so. Jimin asked , "What did I do this time?" and his voice was so small and weak it made something in Jeongguk stir painfully.
Jeongguk thought that was it, that Jimin would never talk to him again, having ignored him completely during practice for a few days. But as always, he was wrong. Though it might be absurd to say it this way, Jimin came back to him.
Up to this day, Jeongguk still doesn’t get why Jimin is still trying to get Jeongguk to bring his guard down and let him in. Jeongguk doesn’t get why he’s still there, sticking with him when all Jeongguk does is push him away. Jeongguk doesn’t get why he does what he does when he knows things will be the same. Jeongguk will be the same cold-hearted person that he is.
Jeongguk has given it some thought, how he’s probably making this more complicated than it should be. But is it wrong to protect himself? Jimin says he likes him now, but how long until he, too, grows tired of him and realizes Jeongguk is not the person he wants? Is Jimin even sincere? He’s nice to everyone, he’s probably just mistaking his feelings for something else.
Frankly, it would be easy to let Jimin in. Jeongguk is already vulnerable to him; to Jimin’s pretty smiles and the small dimples on the corners of his mouth, his soft voice and warm touches. Sometimes, Jeongguk can’t help those little moments of weakness where his façade will slip away; he'd smile back at Jimin, or find himself reaching out to him. He wants to pat his cheeks and tell him he did such a great job and that he’s proud of him. He wants to tell him that seeing him so close to other people makes him jealous. But he always pulls himself back in.
He’s in junior year now, one more year and he won't have to see Jimin anymore and think about all these confusing emotions and thoughts that kept bothering him.
This is what he wanted. He has been able to hold out for this long, giving in now will be pointless.
Though he admits that lately it's getting harder to control his feelings.
—
Just as Jeongguk plugs his phone on his charger, it pings with a notification. He picks it up, and his heart leaps in his chest when he sees the message.
from: jimin
thank you for the drink. i'll drink it well <(￣︶￣)>
Jeongguk laughed, then caught himself midway, and tried to stop but the air went in the wrong pipe and he ended up coughing himself to near death. Jimin has such a cute way of texting.
He lets his fingers hover on the keyboard, contemplating what to reply but unsurprisingly comes up with nothing. He overthinks everything; how his reply will sound like, how it will be perceived, what will Jimin think of it. In the end, he never replies and leaves Jimin on read.
Instead, he finds himself scrolling up the messages Jimin had sent.
from: jimin
i didn’t see you today
wer r u
from: jimin
you're always angry but you seem angrier today 乁( •_• )ㄏ
from: jimin
you were the one who left this orange drink on my desk, weren't you?
admit it ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ
from: jimin
did i do something wrong? not talking to me again (╯︵╰,)
from: jimin
do your best on your exam ╭(♡･ㅂ･)و ̑̑
mr. smarty pants
from: jimin
hey
are you gonna keep on ignoring me?
i kinda wish it was that easy for me too
from: jimin
i won't ever text you again, asshole
from: jimin
why do you always get into petty fights? do you like damaging your handsome face so much? ಠಗಠ
are you okay? does it hurt a lot?
from: jimin
don't mind what coach said, he's just pissed. i think you're really talented
in volleyball i mean
but also everything
haha
All of those messages have gone unanswered by Jeongguk, like all of Jimin’s messages. Jeongguk simply does not know what to say or whether or not what he will say is right, so he would rather not say anything at all. Though he will never admit it out loud, Jeongguk occasionally reads Jimin's messages. Even in text, how can Jimin be so Jimin? It brings a smile to Jeongguk's face.
Jeongguk lets his fingers hover over the keyboard, thinking. He sighs, rolls over the bed and bangs his head on the pillow in frustration. He will probably regret it in the morning but he types it anyway.
to: jimin
Good night