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There’s just something about cats that doesn’t sit well with Jeongguk.
Maybe it’s the way they just stare at you with that blank expression from across the room. Do cats even have facial expressions? He doesn’t know. The fact that he can drop one from his balcony (he lives on the seventh floor) and watch it drop on the ground with grace, no harm done, also leaves a bitter aftertaste in his mouth. Not that he’s jealous of a cat—that is ridiculous, but it just doesn’t make any sense to him why out of all the animals on this planet, cats get to be in the possession of such an amazing ability. Not that he is in any shape or form jealous. If he were to jump off a balcony for any reason, he’d rather he ended up dead, like intended. He can jump down from roofs without getting a scratch in Assassin’s Creed however much he likes already, thank you very much.
On the topic of games, it has been getting harder and harder for him to enjoy playing any sort of game on his laptop because of a particular tiger-striped feline. Every single time he attempts to have a decent round of League, he inevitably ends up with that damn fur ball jumping on his bed and curling into itself on top of his keyboard. The first time it happened Jeongguk simply blinked at her, lips parted in shock, while Hoseok spammed the chat with question marks as to why he wasn't doing anything. Next thing he knew he was trying to get ahold of her so that he could get her off, only to end up with pink scratches along his forearm and a deathly glare. Do cats even glare? Is that a thing? He doesn’t fucking know, but that cat definitely sent him a nasty look.
He doesn’t even know why there is a cat living his his apartment in the first place. It’s not even his cat, for crying out loud, it’s his damn sister’s, but for some reason she likes to kill time in his bedroom—and by killing time, he means jumping on his desk and knocking over his stuff while leaving tiny little hair strands on every surface available that would more often than not send him into a sneezing fit, and, lastly, curling around Jeongguk’s legs and nuzzling them with her nose. Like, what the hell is her problem? Do cats not have any grasp on the concept of personal space? Probably not, but still. Jeongguk would appreciate it very much if Giggles would stop shoving her nose in his business—both figuratively and literally. And don’t even get him started on the name Hanla chose for her. He knew his sister was lame, but not to that degree. Turns out he was terribly wrong.
This actually reminds him of that time his aunt took the two of them out to the local zoo when they were still in middle school and Hanla took it upon herself to name every single creature that lived within the walls of that zoo, thus making what was supposed to be a one-hour trip into a four-hour-long tour with fifteen-minute stops at every display. Not to mention that it had been one of the hottest days of the summer, and by the time they made it back to the apartment, Jeongguk’s tee was sticking to his wet back and salty droplets of sweat was running down his forehead as if he’d just had a water bucket thrown over him. Now he wishes he would have at least gotten a heat stroke or something, purely so that their mother would've scolded her for being reckless and stupid.
Thing is that despite being the dumber sibling, Hanla always manages to get the blame off her and on others (and by that he means on him) by creating this whole ‘angel’ persona that makes him gag every time. Get inebriated at a birthday party and end up puking her guts all over someone’s couch? It’s Jeongguk’s fault for not keeping an eye on her. Carelessly getting behind the wheel and driving their shared car straight into a traffic sign? Jeongguk messed with the control board last time he used the car, making her confused on how to operate it. Failed her economics quiz? Jeongguk was supposed to tutor her, but then ditched her to hang out with his friends instead. So not only is his sister lame, annoying, and dumb, but also a cunning, dirty liar.
Speaking of liars, Jeongguk’s jerk of a best friend is also one. He’s been going back and forth between sitting on the street curb and leaning against the wall of the 7/11 they were supposed to meet in front of for almost half an hour now. He tried texting and calling him, but every time it would go straight to his voicemail: ’Hi, this is Taehyung Kim, also known as Jack. If I’m not picking up it’s probably either because I don’t want to talk to you, or I forgot to charge my phone’. The thing that really irritates him, though, is that Taehyung was the one to initiate this meeting in the first place, and now he can’t be bother to make it or even just answer his god damn phone? Fuckin’ dickhead.
He brings his knees up to his chest, chin fitting in the crevice between them. The coldness of the pavement seeps in through his thin sweats. The hood of his denim jacket thrown over his head is not doing much against the autumn breeze, and combined with his sour facial expression, he's sure he looks like nothing short of a hooligan, but he really can’t be bothered to care at this point. Someone could probably snatch the skateboard from under his feet and run away with it, and he wouldn’t spare them a glance.
When he looks up through his bangs, the sky is a dusky steel blue save for the hues of peach and orange that hover over the mountains. Denver is particularly beautiful this time of the day, an eerie kind of beauty that makes Jeongguk a little light-headed, as if he’s not really there but in a far away land in a far away daydream. Every now and then there’s a car honk breaking the radio silence of strolling pedestrians and idle chatter, and he tightens his grip on his phone. Lifting up his head, he heaves out a sigh before hauling himself up and pressing his palms down the thick material of his sweats to wipe the invisible dust off.
Taehyung can go fuck himself, and then some.
Truth to be told, it’s not the first time Taehyung ditched him. Just last week he had asked Jeongguk if he could come to the school library to help him with some history assignment, just so he could arrive to an empty table and no sign of Taehyung. Apparently, he got snatched by a couple of guys from the Astronomy club and completely forgot about him. At least he forgot about that assignment, too, and managed to get a D- on it (not that much different from the C+ he could’ve managed to get with Jeongguk's help, but still). That, and the free meal he coaxed Taehyung into buying him after he whined about having to take the bus in the middle of a rainstorm for nothing made Jeongguk feel a little bit better.
This time, though, he finds himself not minding it as much. The four walls of his bedroom, the music coming from the neighbours that live on the floor beneath them, the calculus homework he’d been working on—it was all getting to his head anyway. There are a good ten minutes until he reaches his neighbourhood, so he figures he should make the most out of them.
He runs his eyes over the busy street, taking in the striking neon signs hanging on shop windows and above doors, the rustling of golden leaves in the wind and the crunch of dead ones under his feet. An enthusiastic duo of golden retrievers speed past him in a flurry of slimy tongues and sparkly eyes, and the corners of his mouth quirk up. He really wishes he could’ve had a dog in place of that little ball of grey hair and sharp claws that does nothing but stare at him like she’s trying to dug deep into his soul. He can’t take her out for walks, can’t play with her without having pain inflicted on him, can’t teach her cool stuff because she can’t be bothered to listen to him—there’s literally nothing fun in owning a cat.
He comes to a halt when he notices a sheet of paper slowly hitting the ground in front of him. He blinks once, twice, before furrowing his eyebrows and crouching down. He picks it up, eyes skimming over the words written in pretty handwriting—song lyrics, he decides after reading the whole thing. Beautiful, and slightly depressive if he’s being honest. It’s then that he thinks back to how it was literally falling out of nowhere. Standing up, he tilts his head back and squints his eyes until he can make sense of the pair of feet dangling from the building’s rooftop. He blinks once, twice, and almost chokes on his own spit.
Today is not the day Jeongguk will witness a fucking suicide, not when he can do something about it.
Taking a few steps backwards, he looks around the building to see if there are any fire escape stairs, but there are none. He counts eight floors, and lets out a string of curses under his breath. How the hell is he supposed to make it up there? He runs a hand through his dark hair, desperation coming off him in waves. Just then, the entrance door to the apartment building opens and an elderly lady slowly appears from behind it. He’s not even aware of the movement of his limbs when his feet start taking him towards that door, and he gives the lady a haste smile before slipping inside. Once there, he looks around for some kind of stairs or elevator, and takes in a deep breath before making his way up.
He doesn’t stop when his calves start to burn, neither when he almost misses a step. He doesn’t stop until he reaches the metal door and pushes it open, the cold air hitting him in the face like a whiplash. He lets go of the door behind him and takes a step forward. It looks like the boy hasn’t heard him yet, and Jeongguk is not sure wether that’s a good thing or not. He’s just standing still at the edge of the rooftop, the wind sweeping through his hair and through the long, grey cardigan that hangs off his tall frame. What if he scares him and the boy accidentally falls over? Fuck, what is he supposed to do?
He curls his hands into tight fists, and takes a step forward, and then another one until he’s standing next to him. If the boy notices his presence, he doesn’t say anything. He lets his eyes rake over the scenery, over the black silhouettes of people roaming the streets, the lightened-up office buildings, the cars speeding down the road. It feels.. it feels kind of nice now that he thinks about it, liberating even. He feels just a little bit lighter than before, just a little bit more at ease.
Reaching into his pocket, he wraps his hand around the folded piece of paper and takes it out. No words are spoken as Jeongguk hands him the paper, just the buzz of the city below serving as background noise. His fingers are long and slender, and at first he just stares at it with a glint in his eyes that Jeongguk doesn’t allow himself to look at enough to understand. He has light brown hair that hovers just above his dark eyes, high cheekbones and full, pouty lips which he curves into a tight smile.
“Thanks,” is the first thing that comes out of the boy’s mouth, voice low and raspy from not being used for so long, and Jeongguk barely catches it over the car honks and waves of chatter. “I didn’t even notice it slipped out.”
He takes his bottom lip between his teeth and shoves his hands in his pockets. “I would’ve kept it to myself if I hadn’t seen you up here,” he admits. “I was kind of freaked out, to be honest.”
The boy furrows his thick eyebrows, gaze shifting onto him. He looks genuinely confused, and suddenly Jeongguk feels the urge to bang his head against the nearest wall. “Freaked out? Why?”
“Well, I thought you were gonna.. you know,” Jeongguk tries to explain, but all the words seem to die on his tongue and he visibly cringes at the awkward situation he single-handedly brought onto himself.
“Oh.” He drops his gaze to the ground. “I wasn’t going to do.. that.”
“Right,” Jeongguk says, nodding to himself, and looks away. Why must he be such a damn moron? It just wouldn’t be a typical day for him if he didn’t manage to make a fool out of himself in front of a stranger who now probably thinks of him as a socially-inept weirdo that accused him of wanting to jump off a building. Should he try to make small talk now? Get up and leave as to not make the situation even more awkward? Fuck if he knows. “So, uh.. do you live in this building?”
The boy tilts his head to the side, mouth corners quirking up in mild amusement. “You would think that’s kinda obvious. I don’t just hang out on any rooftops, you know?” he entertains and lets out a chuckle before squinting his eyes at him. “Speaking of, how did you even get up here?”
“Skills,” is what Jeongguk comes up with, and it just seems to fuel the boy’s amusement even more.
“Skills,” he repeats after Jeongguk, nodding his head. Then, he steps back and reaches down to get ahold of his light blue backpack, stuffing the paper in before zipping it up and slinging it over his shoulder. “Alright. Well, thank you for.. everything, again.”
“It’s what anyone would’ve done.”
The boy makes a face—something in-between disbelief and fascination. “If you say so,” he says, conjuring a smile to which Jeongguk responds with a little one of his own before giving him a nod and turning towards the exit.
His hand is just above the handle when he hears some shuffling behind him and the boy calls his out. He whips his head around, lips slightly parted. He comes to a halt in front of Jeongguk, a few inches of curiosity and hesitation separating them. “I didn’t catch your name.”
“Oh.” He lets out an unnecessary cough, heat rising up his neck. “It’s Jeongguk, though some people call me Justin ‘cause.. you know, it’s easier.”
“Of course they do,” the boy mumbles, letting out a breathy chuckle and ducking his head before crossing his arms over his chest and looking up at him. “Get home safe then, Jeongguk.”
“I’d say the same thing, but you kinda already are home.”
“Yeah, about that—don’t go around telling your friends where I live, ok?”
Jeongguk tilts his head to the side, squinting his eyes as though he is considering it, and doesn’t miss the way the boy rolls his eyes playfully at him. “I think in order to do that you’re required to have friends,” he then says with a grin. “Lucky for you, I only have one of those, and he sometimes doesn’t even remember where I live.”
“Sounds like a cool guy.”
Jeongguk lets out a chuckle. “Yeah, the coolest,” he says, shoving his hands in his pockets. The boy keeps his eyes on him, half-smile still adorning his face, and he lets out a cough before taking a step back. “Well, I’ll get going.”
The boy widens his eyes, and motions for him to stop before opening up his backpack “Just a seconds,” he mumbles as he hastily searches through it. He takes out a pen, a paper, and scribbles something onto it. “Here, I want you to keep this,” he says, handing Jeongguk what one closer inspection he realises it’s the same piece of paper that’s brought him here in the first place.
He squints his eyes at it, then looks up at him through his bangs. “You want me to keep it? I’m literally a stranger, why would you do that?” he asks.
“No reason,” he replies, shaking his head. “And you’re not really a stranger if I know your name, now, are you? See you, Jeongguk.”
Jeongguk stands still and just watches how the boy walks past him, slowly opens the metal door and turns around to give him a little hand wave before slipping inside, out of his sight. “See ya’,” he mutters under his breath, brain still quite not processing what just happened in the last twenty minutes of his life.
He runs his thumb over the smooth surface, over the faint folds, and the little transparent stain where some kind of liquid must’ve come in contact with the paper. Rain water, perhaps. It doesn’t make much sense, but it doesn’t tug at his heart quite as hard as the other possible option. He folds it neatly and stuffs it in his jacket. Does it really belong to him now? Physically, maybe it does. The beautiful words adorning the paper certainly don’t, though.
A beat, and then he chokes out a bark of feigned laughter. Now that he thinks about it, he has no idea to whom those words belong to. Thin, strangely-shaped fingers, hopeful, red-rimmed eyes, smile both blithe and melancholic, voice strong but just above a whisper. He spoke with calculated words as though he had something to prove in front of Jeongguk. He didn’t, and maybe if he wasn’t such a coward, he would have let the boy know that. The boy, he snickers to himself. He’s going to stick with that for now, because, well, what else is there for him to go by?
He didn’t get to ask for a name, after all.
From: taehyung
Sent: 20:32, Oct 12
fuuck
From: taehyung
Sent: 20:33, Oct 12
I ditched you, didn’t I?
From: my brotha
Sent: 20:36, Oct 12
yes you did dumbass
From: my brotha
Sent: 20:37, Oct 12
but it’s ok I left after 20 mins anyway
From: taehyung
Sent: 20:37, Oct 12
sorry gukk
From: taehyung
Sent: 20:37, Oct 12
I’m such a shitty friend idk why u still put up with me
From: my brotha
Sent: 20:38, Oct 12
hey hey I said it’s fine
don’t say stuff like tht when u know it’s not true
From: my brotha
Sent: 20:38, Oct 12
that*
From: my brotha
Sent: 20:38, Oct 12
is everything ok tho??
From: my brotha
Sent: 20:40, Oct 12
shit did your parents fight again?
From: taehyung
Sent: 20:42, Oct 12
but it is true..
From: taehyung
Sent: 20:42, Oct 12
and no they didn’t
From: taehyung
Sent: 20:44, Oct 12
you at home?
From: my brotha
Sent: 20:44, Oct 12
no I’m around paramount, why?
From: taehyung
Sent: 20:44, Oct 12
meet me at strb? the one next to kk doughnuts?
it’s on me
From: my brotha
Sent: 20:45, Oct 12
yeah ofc
Despite being attached to his hip since middle school, Kim Taehyung is still a bit of a mystery to Jeongguk. If he had to choose a song to be the soundtrack of his best friend’s life, it would probably an indie one with acoustic guitars played in major chords and bittersweet lyrics, one you can’t decide wether it makes you feel happier or sadder. The kind of song that’s played at the end of an coming of age movie where the world is ending but the main character stands at the edge of the cliff with a genuine smile plastered on their face as if they have never felt more at peace. He is confusing, perplexing, baffling at times when you expect him to do one thing, but he does the exact opposite. Much like a beautiful puzzle that’s missing a couple of essential pieces in order for the whole picture to be understood—you can still admire it, although unknowledgeable of its meaning.
He is an airhead as much as he is a genius. He can’t remember addresses or math formulas, but he can talk for hours about the history of arts and music without a minute of dullness. Jeongguk barely stutters his way through a class presentation, whereas Taehyung spends hours and hours after school reciting scripts and singing his heart out with other students in the empty auditorium until every line is carved into his brain for him to voice out without mistake when the auditorium is full to the brim with chatty students, eager parents, and loosened-up teachers (except the drama teacher; she’s always pacing backstage with frazzled hair and short, chipped nails before the start of every show).
He can act any scene from Romeo and Juliet with overflowing passion on command, but when he tries to give a girl in their class a rose on valentines day he stumbles over the trashcan sat next to her, sending all that garbage straight all over her pretty shoes, somehow forgets that roses have thorns and cries out (loudly) in pain when handing it over to her alongside with a note, and then, after scurrying off like a moron, he reaches inside his hoodie and looks up at Jeongguk in mortification when he realises he’s holding the heartwarming note he was supposed to give her, and that the note he had been passing around in class with him the period before on which he wrote about how he hasn’t pooped in a week is missing. The next day, they saw the poor girl turning around in the middle of the hallway after spotting them (and by that he means Taehyung, though going by association Jeongguk was probably a nutcase in her eyes, too).
That happened all the way back in eight grade. He didn’t make fun of him that day, nor the day after. Jeongguk would never have the guts to pull something like that, especially in front of so many people, so the fact that he plastered a smile on his face and walked up to that girl with his head held high is admirable more than it is anything else. Not that he ever told Taehyung, but for some reason he feels like he doesn’t even need to. Taehyung just knows, and he is so grateful for that. He’s never been that good with words, and that has held him back from a lot of things ever since he was a little kid and watched how all the other kids played with each other during recess in kindergarten whilst he stayed hidden in the jungle gym tower because he just couldn’t bring himself up to talk. He remembers opening his mouth but not being able to let out any sound, like all the words were stuck in his throat and he felt like crying and pushing himself in the corner until he would disappear.
Kindergarten was a dark period of his life, middle school was slightly better though no less traumatic, and high school.. well, if he had to describe his experience so far in one word, it would probably be meh.
He had Taehyung beside him all through middle school to make it more bearable, and now he still has him to get him through high school without setting his textbooks on fire. I guess some things never change, he thinks to himself as he watches Taehyung cross the street, messy caramel hair going up and down with every hurried step. His face brightens up when their eyes meet, and the tension in Jeongguk’s shoulders slowly vanishes at the genuine smile he gives him. Maybe he looked too much into those text, or maybe Taehyung’s gotten better at faking it.
“Hey,” he greets him as he comes to a halt in front of him. “Did I keep you waiting?”
Jeongguk gets off the brick wall he was leaning against, lips curving into a fond smile. Truth to be told, he’s been standing in that position for about fifteen minutes, but he finds himself shaking his head at Taehyung’s question. “I just got here a minute ago.”
“Ah, good. Jimin kept rambling on the phone as I was getting ready to leave and I got sidetracked.”
He narrows his eyes. “Jimin.. as in Park Jimin?”
Taehyung nods before they take off in the direction of the coffee house. “Believe it or not, he’s actually pretty cool. I stumbled into him at this street dance thing the other day. He was busking with some younger guys, never seen them before, but they were all really good. Hoseok showed up at one point, too. Turns out he and Jimin are really close.” He furrows his eyebrows. “How come he never told us, though?”
Jeongguk rolls his eyes. “He has friends all over the city, Taehyung. That doesn’t mean all of them know stuff like we do,” he says.
Taehyung is a silent presence beside him. He’s looking straight ahead, though if someone were to appear in front of him he’d walk straight into them, sending them both to the ground. “I’m not jealous or anything, you know that. It’s just that I’m..”
“Scared?”
He sighs. “Yeah.”
“Well,” Jeongguk begins, throwing an arm around his shoulder, “even if Hoseok decides to ditch us for cooler, older friends, you’ve still got me.”
Taehyung rolls his eyes. “That makes me feel so much better, you have no idea,” he says, then breaks into a grin at Jeongguk’s mock-offended expression. “Just joking, relax.”
“You better be. Now, we going in or?”
“Oh shit, yeah.” He laughs, not having realised they came to a stop. It’s then when he notices the piece of paper peeking from Jeongguk’s right pocket. “Hey, that your math assignment? I saw a bin like, a few steps back”
“Oh, that.. no.” Jeongguk mumbles in a small voice. “It’s—it’s kind of a weird story, actually.”
Taehyung arches an eyebrow. “Made a fool out of yourself again?”
“Is it even possible for me not to at this point?” he says with an eye roll, hand wrapping around the door handle, and then they’re in.