The Anxiety Spreadsheets
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At almost thirty-one, Park Jimin has achieved the ultimate millennial dream: a thoroughly mediocre corporate existence that demands absolutely nothing of his soul. He has his ergonomic chair, his perfectly timed commute to avoid elevator small talk, and a flawless system of mutual procrastination with his work-bestie, Hoseok. His life is boring, ordinary, and exactly the way he likes it.
Then their boss hires Jeon Jungkook.
--------Jungkook was standing up, leaning his forearms over the low fabric partition that separated their desks. He was smiling brightly, pointing a finger directly at Jimin's monitor.
"I saw the little 'Jimin is typing' bubbles popping up on Slack for like two minutes, so I figured you were taking a break from your presentation," Jungkook said, completely oblivious to the murderous intent radiating from Jimin's soul. "Since you're answering now, I can just walk you through my notes! It's super fast, I promise."
Jimin slowly slid his headphones down to his neck. His sanctuary was breached. His code was under attack. Synchronous, unprompted communication was happening.
His boring, ordinary life was officially over.
Series
- Part 1 of The Anxiety Spreadsheets
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Jimin and Jungkook have survived the adoption background checks, toddler tantrums in the poultry aisle, and the complete loss of their sleep schedules. Now, they have a beautiful four-year-old son, a luxury Hawaiian vacation booked, and a perfectly color-coded itinerary. Naturally, everything goes completely off script.
Enjoy:
Jimin leans over to inspect the artwork. It is a crayon drawing of three stick figures standing in what appears to be an apocalyptic inferno. Heavy strokes of red, orange, and black crayon obliterate the background.
Jimin stares at it, deeply disturbed.
“Wow, baby... this is beautiful. But, um... why are we all on fire in this picture?”
Jungkook walks over, wrapping an arm around Jimin’s waist and looking at the drawing. He smiles encouragingly.
“That’s probably sunshine, right, Jae? An aura of warmth? It’s an abstract representation of our bright, loving home.”
Jaeshin looks at them like they are both idiots.
“No,” Jaeshin says, his voice brutally clear. “That’s when appa burned the dinner.”
Series
- Part 2 of The Anxiety Spreadsheets