crashes
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taehyung stops. turns.“i have to tell you something. or, i mean, i guess i should probably tell you this. just to, you know, get it out of the way.”
“okay,” jeongguk says slowly, sounding amused. he humors him anyway, turning to face him. he doesn’t point out that they’re in the middle of the sidewalk.
“okay,” taehyung says, and jeongguk’s raising an eyebrow at him, and taehyung thinks he looks handsome in the afternoon sunlight in all his jazz-pianist-whatever glory, and then taehyung just—“i hate jazz.”
the eyebrow falls. jeongguk looks as if he’s simply misheard him. “sorry—i—you what?”
or, los angeles is big and unforgiving. jazz never sleeps until it does. taehyung feels smaller than he ever has, and jeongguk wonders if he'll ever find it in himself to wake up.