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since he was a little boy, taehyung wanted something extraordinary to happen to him.
but the thing is, taehyung found many things to be extraordinary.
when he was a little boy, he used to go to the lake close to his grandma's house and watch the mess of tadpoles by the shore, and would pick a few up on his hand. and the thought that little tiny swimming thing would turn into a frog someday, was wonderful.
later that day, after picking fruits from the old lady’s garden with her help, he told her about the tadpoles and how excited he was to see them become frogs. and she told him that he probably wouldn’t see them become frogs. but that didn’t make it any less marvelous.
“we don’t have to see something beautiful happen to appreciate its beauty”, she told him.
“and besides, wouldn’t it be more thrilling to see a cocoon become a butterfly, for instance?”
he tilted his head and ate a strawberry.
“isn’t it all change, ugly or not?”
and then at sundown, before allowing himself to be consumed by sleepiness, he thinks he found change and transformation to be something extraordinary.
☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆
as a kid, he met all sorts of extraordinary people.
he met people who kindly smiled and said “have a good day!” to others on the street, not expecting to be answered back, just for the sake of being polite and gentle.
people who would call him sweet names, and pet his hair.
people who surprised others with gifts, just because they thought of them, and wanted their loved ones to feel appreciated and praised.
people who would cook delicious sweets when they were feeling happy, because they wanted others to feel happy too.
people who would take care of his mom at home, who couldn’t properly do what she was supposed to, according to his dad.
people who would read him stories as many times as he wanted, no matter how many times he had already listened. please, please, tell me again one more time, he would ask. and his mom would look at him, with wrinkles on her eyes and a kind smile, and tell him once again.
he decided hazel was his favorite color that day, before going to sleep, as the woman kissed his forehead and told him how sweet he was.
“sleep well, baby bear.”
as he was falling asleep peacefully, he found his mom was all kinds of extraordinary.
☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆
growing up, taehyung found people didn’t care much about extraordinary things.
at least, not the way he did.
once, at fundamental school for arts class, the teacher’s assignment was to find something weird, something that didn’t make sense, and take it to class somehow.
and taehyung completely forgot.
he found out, later on, his brain didn’t work exactly like other children’s. he had a really hard time to focus on important things, on things he was supposed to focus on. but his mind would take him far, far away.
so, when he got to class, he had nothing prepared to show them. and then he remembered that earlier that day, walking to school, he saw a flower on the floor.
so when the teacher called his name, he picked the flower, stood up, and showed them.
“so? why did you bring this flower, taehyung?”
..wasn’t it obvious?
“because I found her on the floor this morning, walking.”
whispers, chit chat, side looks.
he found he didn’t like his teacher’s eyes. they were hazel, like his mother’s. but they weren’t warm.
“would you like to tell your classmates what this flower has to do with your assignment, or would you rather admit you forgot about it and you’re trying to string us along?”
well, he did forget about it. but he did what he was supposed to do in the end.
so why was everyone staring at him like he did something wrong?
he’s just lazy, he heard the girl next to him whisper.
he felt his eyes burn with unshed tears.
so he said he did forget the assignment. yes, i just wanted a good grade. yes, i know i’m getting a zero. yes, i’ll remember next time. yes, i am sorry i tried to make a fool of you and my classmates.
he didn’t say it wasn’t the flower he found weird. but the fact it was on the floor, in the middle of spring.
aren’t flowers supposed to be attached to trees during spring? isn’t that what he learned, just a day before, at school?
isn’t that how it was supposed to be?
taehyung found out that day people didn’t care about extraordinary. at least, not the way he did.
they just see what they want to see, and if you don’t see it like them, it doesn’t matter.
so he kept his ideas of extraordinary to himself.
he didn’t want to bother anyone with dazes, as his dad would say.
all that meaningless daydreaming. just like your mom.
so he didn’t speak a single word for months.
on middle school, taehyung didn’t think about extraordinary anymore. he didn’t stop to pick flowers, hear the birds sing or look at the blue sky.
everything felt and looked like a grey fog.
and he just tried to survive.
☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆
on junior year, his mother passed away.
he went to school, studied — at least he tried to —, had lunch alone, and the principal called him.
i’m sorry for your loss, he said. and taehyung knew.
he knew, but it didn’t make sense.
she was improving, getting better, day by day, according to doctors. so why was this happening?
he thinks he stood up and thanked the principal.
he thinks he walked home, the same path as every day, but he’s not sure, because it took five minutes and five hours at the same time.
and at the porch of his house, there was his dad, on the phone. and his grandma on a chair, looking at nothing, hazel eyes all confused, unfocused, heavy.
sad.
and taehyung felt like it was hard to breathe.
so he turned around and went anywhere else.
the next day, at the funeral, he didn’t cry.
he thought of his mother’s eyes and he screamed.
but no one heard a sound.
he stayed home for an entire week and his dad didn’t say a thing about it. which was normal. his dad never said much about anything.
he found to be very odd not to hear her wheelchair at breakfast time, always so early, because she liked to wake up to the birds singing and the comfortable cold breeze.
his mom found many things extraordinary, he remembered. even himself. but if he had even a slight amount of extraordinary, it was because of her.
he cried three days after the funeral.
every sound of her was gone and it was fucking deafening.
☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆
as a sophomore, taehyung wasn’t exactly the best student ever to step in those high school halls.
pretty far from that.
he still had to try harder than everyone else just to be average, but he was fine with it. because, with his portifolio, any university would be stupid not to take him, his teachers would say.
he was mildly known for his alluring paints, and he knew a few universities already had an eye on him.
he was fine. nothing was extraordinary anymore and he still saw the world through a fog.
but he was just fine.
that was also the year he met park jimin.
he had chosen carpentry as his extracurricular class; he actually liked making things out of wood.
he was paired with the boy with pink hair, who had just been transferred to the school and sat next to him on the first day.
“hi. i like your shirt.”
taehyung was wearing a blank blue shirt.
“um, thanks.”
“i’m jimin.”
he looked at him.
hazel eyes.
“i’m taehyung.”
he smiled and it was warm.
“nice to meet you, taehyung.”
☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆
they were inseparable.
taehyung found jimin had moved to the nice looking yellow house just by the corner of his street, and he would wait for him every day, so they could walk to school together.
he usually had something new to tell jimin. something he dreamed about, something he found on the internet the day before, or even something he had just seen on his way.
he found it was okay to talk about things that you like to someone who truly listened.
it was more than okay. it felt nice.
jimin would smile, tell him what he thought, and it would be something taehyung wasn’t expecting in the slightest.
“i actually find chocolate really boring. i don’t understand the appeal behind it.”
taehyung was telling him about the dream he had with the amazing chocolate factory, where he was one of the kids left behind by willy wonka to drown in a pool of thick chocolate.
“i don’t know, it just tastes good,” taehyung pondered.
“yeah, but people worship it. it’s too overrated.” jimin turned at him. “and how can you say that after literally drawing in chocolate? aren’t you traumatized?”
taehyung thought for a second.
“not enough to stop eating chocolate, no.”
jimin buffed. “chocolate lovers are weird. it literally killed you and here you are, defending it.”
taehyung smiled.
“it wasn’t the chocolate’s fault, i’m the one who got too close to the edge because i wanted to try it.”
jimin touched his arm to stop him from walking and stared at him, his eyes soft.
taehyung felt a shiver and a funny thing on the bottom of his stomach.
“then next time don’t get too close, tae.”
at night, right before being swallowed by unconsciousness, taehyung thought he wanted to keep discovering new extraordinary things again, and dreaming of them, so he could tell jimin about it on the next day.
and the last thought he had was the image of a certain boy’s pink hair.
and he dreamed clouds were made of pink cotton candy.
☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆
at the end of the semester, they had to make a medium-sized furniture for carpentry class, and they decided to make a cuckoo clock.
“my mom loved cuckoo clocks.”
jimin gave him one of his sweet smiles.
“she must have been a great mom.”
taehyung didn’t understand how the two things were connected.
but he liked it. and in the end, it was true.
“tell me about her.”
and taehyung did. he told jimin everything his heart was begging him to say, because it was so heavy, it weighed too much. he just had to release it, even if just a tiny bit.
in the end he had burning tears in his eyes, and jimin didn’t try to push them away. for all means, he just quietly listened. at some point, he had taken taehyung’s hand on his, and when he’d stop talking, jimin would just squeeze it.
in the end, he had stopped talking for five minutes, or five hours, and jimin was still holding his hand, and caressing him with his thumb.
he didn’t say the pain would pass, he didn’t say everything would be okay.
taehyung never knew what to expect of him.
“you know, for the way you talk about her, it seems like she was just like you.”
taehyung felt a shiver.
“she sounds lovely, kind. pretty.”
jimin squeezed his hand.
“i’d have loved to meet her.”
and they held hands for five more minutes. or five more hours. taehyung couldn’t tell.
he found time was relative. when he was with jimin, it happened fast, but felt more meaningful than anything.
when he was little, time felt like an enemy. pushing him to give his assignments on time, to get to school on time, not to get distracted, to focus, focus, just focus.
time was too little for him. and for his mom. it wasn’t fair.
now, he finds time is all he has. he wished time would slow down. he wished he held hands with jimin forever, because he was kind, and warm, and he smelled like strawberries, and he made taehyung feel better.
he wished he could trick time so jimin and his mom could meet, because his mom would’ve liked jimin, just like he does. she would’ve liked his hair, and his eyes, and she would listen to what he has to say.
he found time to be extraordinary. not every special thing is kind, or nice, or fair. sometimes, they’re all we’ve got, and that’s okay.
because he had jimin to squeeze his hand.
the clock turned out to be simple: just a dark wood square with a few details on the corners and, of course, the cuckoo.
jimin loved it so much, but he wanted taehyung to have it.
“you told me your mom used to wake up to them,” he said. “maybe you should listen to her again.”
☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆
one day, after school, they were in taehyung’s room, and he was nervous for some reason.
jimin came in and he’s been quiet for five minutes. or five hours. taehyung couldn’t tell.
he searched around his room, looking at band posters, his school notebooks, his poorly organized study table, his book collection, his bed.
and of course, the words on the wall.
“those are many words.”
taehyung had a wall full of pink post-its, dispersed all over the black painted side of the room, with countless words written on them.
“yep. you’re very observant.”
jimin looked at him, pretending to be offended.
it was fun to annoy him sometimes.
“anyways,” taehyung said, approaching him. “yeah. it’s just... words.”
taehyung never knew what to expect from jimin. his answers were always a surprise.
a welcoming surprise. taehyung loved to hear what went on in his mind. what he had to say.
“mhm. that’s cool.”
he would expect anyone to ask why, why did he do that, why those specific words, what did they have in common. just why. because people didn’t see things the way taehyung did so they would ask his reasons.
but not jimin.
he tilted his head and asked, “where’s extraordinary?”
and taehyung pointed out, at the corner of the wall, the oldest post-it, that he already had to replace only god knows how many times. he had told jimin, many days ago, it was his absolute favorite word.
jimin walked there and placed his fingers on top of it, his gaze immersed.
taehyung felt uneasy. his room was starting to smell like him. like strawberries.
extraordinary
very unusual, special, unexpected, or strange
“i like that word,” he whispered.
it suits you felt implied. just hanging in the air.
and taehyung felt all kinds of funny things inside of him.
later on, they were lying on the grass in taehyung’s backyard. side by side, very close.
too close.
jimin broke the silence after a while, clearing his throat, his tone thoughtful.
“you know, i like the word remarkable. extraordinary is cool, kind of gives you the idea of something different, not ordinary, special, sure. but remarkable..”
a pause.
“it sounds like something that sticks with you. something you’ll remember, something that left a mark, like a tattoo. something that changed you, even if only a tiny bit.”
taehyung took a breath. deeply.
“tell me something remarkable to you.”
jimin breathed slowly, all the time in the world.
“holding hands with you.”
jimin stared at the open blue sky, his hazel eyes looking bright and his hair like cotton candy.
“i find your existence pretty remarkable, kim taehyung.”
the next day, taehyung had a new post-it on his wall, but this time it was yellow.
☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆
“do you think we choose to be born?”
taehyung was feeling cloudy that day.
some days it’s easier to think straight, not to daydream so much, to be present, to focus.
but some days, he felt completely detached from himself. some days, he would try to read, and the words wouldn’t make much sense. he would try to conclude a though and he would forgot what was the matter in the first place, he would try to answer someone and he wouldn’t know what to say, what he was supposed to say, what was expected of him to say, because his mind was somewhere else.
he usually talked a lot with jimin these days. he would say anything that popped in his head. and he wouldn’t shut up about it for hours, because jimin would go along with him.
“i don’t know,” jimin replied, taking an impulse on the floor, making the park’s swing move faster. “i don’t think the universe would be so kind to let us choose. but, at the same time, i don’t think we would be born if we didn’t want to.”
taehyung had his feet touching the ground, making a mess of the little stones that covered the entirety of the neighbourhood's park floor. it was already nighttime and they were alone.
jimin had to make an effort for his feet to touch the floor. it was cute.
taehyung held the swing’s chain a little tighter.
“i think we choose to be born but obviously we don’t know why. we just come clueless, that’s the catch. we don’t know the reason we chose it in the first place.” taehyung swings slightly back and forth, not lifting his feet for a single moment, attached to the ground.
“you think there has to be a purpose?,” he asks.
“no,” jimin answers, no hesitation in his tone. “i don’t think i have one. do you?”
“i think mine is painting. and maybe words too.”
the air feels a little cold but it’s comfortable.
jimin laughs quietly. “i mean, okay, maybe those are your reasons. but they’re not your purposes, you know? i think there’s a difference.”
peaceful silence, wind, sound of old metal scratching, some cat walking under the street golden light.
“i think we have reasons but not purposes.”
“what are your reasons?”
he could hear jimin breathing and the sound of his feet touching the surface of the small grey stones.
“the rain.”
taehyung watched him go up and down, back and forth.
“the smell of leaves after it rains.”
“you think your soul wanted to be born because of the smell of rain?”
taehyung didn’t know why but he felt the urge to cry.
jimin smiled.
can a smile be a reason?
“i do, actually. i think i looked down and wanted to know how it felt. did you know it rained a lot when i was born? not like, torrential rain, but that thin kind of rain. my mom told me it was like that all day.”
taehyung wished he could stand up and hug jimin. he felt the need to be physically close to him.
“but it’s not just that, tae. because i also love the clear sky, without a single cloud at sight. i think i just find new reasons every day. if i had to guess, i’d say that’s why i chose to be born. not to be extraordinary. but for the small things.”
taehyung didn’t tell him, but that was the exact reason he found jimin to be extraordinary.
☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆
on senior year, taehyung found out jimin didn’t know if he wanted to go to university.
“i don’t know if i want to be a university student.”
he stopped eating his vegetarian sandwich. they were by a lakeshore, close to the entrance of town, alone.
it was a beautiful tuesday and jimin wanted to skip class and drive around town in his old, probably fifth-handed car that his mom gave him as a gift.
“i don’t like the university students i’ve met so far.”
taehyung didn’t know why but he started laughing. really loudly. jimin just stared.
“what’s so funny?”
and he started to laugh too because taehyung couldn’t stop himself, and it was catchy.
“sometimes i wonder what goes on in that head of yours,” the pink haired boy said, smiling widely.
taehyung laid down on the grass.
the thought of jimin comparing himself to others was just hilarious.
“but it’s different for us, jiminie.” he simply said.
“and why is that?”
“because you’re you.”
..wasn’t it obvious?
“you wouldn’t be like any other university student. you’re my best friend.”
you’re jimin.
and everything felt silent for a few moments. only the sound of wind, trees and two boys existing by a pretty lake.
until jimin interrupted, murmuring, “university student park jimin,” quietly. tasting, pondering.
taehyung could hear him lying next to him. he thought he was really close, so he kept his eyes shut.
he felt a soft finger on his nose, then on his cheek, then on his forehead, then on his chin. like it was tracing him. and he struggled to stay still.
“i’d do it if i could see you every day,” the boy whispered.
but his tone was dreamy.
he didn’t say it like it was a must, he said like it was something he could only wish.
taehyung fell asleep after jimin started petting his hair. after five minutes, or five hours.
he thought he heard jimin say his name before losing consciousness. not like he wanted taehyung to wake up, just whispering like he couldn’t stop himself from saying it. and it felt like a caress, like what he was doing with his hands.
he liked his name at that moment. it sounded sweet. kind of like a melody.
he dreamed of rain, touching hands and strawberries.
for jimin’s birthday, taehyung made him a painting, with mixed pastel tones of yellow.
“yellow reminds me of you,” he told him.
they were at jimin’s house, at his room, and the air felt heavy.
everything around taehyung screamed jimin and it was overwhelming.
jimin’s room was simple, full of pastel tones, colorful posters and action figures from cartoons he liked, a few horror books by the shelf and drawings on the wall.
he had also just glued a polaroid of taehyung, on the neighbourhood’s park swing, looking shy with a tiny smile and a mess of black fluffy hair, on that same wall.
they were sitting on the carpet’s floor and jimin had the painting on his hands and taehyung never felt so close to fainting.
the boy was quiet for a long time, looking, studying the canvas, tilting his head, pink strays falling on his eyes.
taehyung was seriously about to pass out.
and then jimin looked at taehyung, and time didn’t exist.
and all the air in the world wasn’t enough, and the most beautiful things were meaningless, because jimin existed, right in front of him.
and his gaze was astonishing.
he carefully placed the painting beside him and placed his hands on the floor, shifting his body weight to his arms and slowly approached taehyung, who was in front of him, breathing, waiting.
“tell me to stop if this isn’t okay.”
jimin looked at his lips and everything smelled like strawberries. he was so close.
jimin placed his hand on taehyung’s cheek and said his name, like the caress he was making with his thumb.
but it was more than that now. his name felt less like a caress and more like a melody again.
“taehyung.”
a pause.
“can I kiss you?”
and they don’t know who closed the gap.
their lips touched and if felt like many words but taehyung couldn’t put together a single one other than
the boy's name.
repeating non-stop on his mind like a loop, like a broken record, calmly and harmonically.
following the kiss slow rhythm, like they had all the time in the world.
he thinks he said his name out loud and
“taehyung,” jimin sang again.
and taehyung felt many colors and many words.
“i wanted you to feel what i felt looking at the painting.”
just a whisper and a hand on taehyung’s cheek.
“did you?”
he asked, his tone slightly choked.
and taehyung wanted to cry because the boy knew taehyung couldn’t possibly know exactly how jimin felt, but he still asked, like a fragile hope he was holding carefully.
please please feel what i felt because it was so good and i want you to feel it too
like an implied, unsaid plea.
because he knew jimin couldn’t bear the thought of taehyung not feeling profoundly loved.
because that’s what was written all over that canvas. but specifically with white painting on top of the yellow tones, with cursive small words, on the left corner. a little hidden, like a secret, like a whisper.
thank you for reminding me the world can be colorful again
so taehyung felt a single rolling down his cheek.
“i really hope i did.”
☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆
during that kiss, jimin tried to scream, but quietly. he tried his best to show everything.
it tastes like the rain, he thought.
he tastes like the rain.
☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆
the thing is jimin, by all means, didn’t color taehyung’s life at all.
he just made him remember things can feel different. made him remember he could see pretty things in grey places.
jimin just held his hand and talked of dreams and rain.
“sometimes i feel like you hold so much love inside of you, tae. and you just don’t know what to do with it.”
taehyung felt a knot forming on his throat. they were comparing their hands sizes, facing each other, on jimin’s bed.
“it’s a burden, jimin,” he murmured. his tone was weak, gentle. “it’s a burden to feel so much.”
jimin smiled in a way that warmed taehyung’s heart so fast he thought he was going to combust.
“then give some of it to me, taehyungie,” he whispered. “you can put your love on me. i’ll take it.”
☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆
taehyung remembers about the time he was a little boy and wanted something extraordinary to happen to him.
and over the course of his life, he found many things to be extraordinary. and that was, after all, the most extraordinary thing.
and still, he’s glad something remarkable happened.
before falling completely asleep, at the back of his mind, he sees jimin smiling.
the end