Chapter Text
~ 1 ~
The world of memories is unquestionably exquisite. All the shards of our past, broken apart and hidden away individually in the real world as inanimate objects, always stay glued together as the most beautiful vase in our memories.
Walking toward that one particular rack, he stretches out to graze the pads of his fingers against the cold metal latch, prompting a million goosebumps to erupt onto his skin. Like a child reaching out to the top of the fridge, yearning for the jar with the most delicious cookies of the lot, his arms suppress the burn to allow those fingers to curl around the edges of that box.
In the safety of his arms is the object bearing all the souvenirs of entertainment from his life. Sitting in the middle of the room, settled comfortably on the downy carpet, his fingers flutter over the wooden lid, then to the rusted golden latch, unlocking the case. Creaking open, the musky smell of old paper and rusty scents of hidden trinkets invade his nose. Dancing his gaze over the box's contents, a warm smile creeps onto his face as snippets of childhood reminiscences surface into his mind.
Carnival tickets, ramen shop receipts, tattered keychains - everything lay just as it did when they first took their place in that box. Rummaging carefully through the simple objects that bore the weight of a thousand memories, his eyes land on the yellowed leaves hidden underneath the paperback black cover. Tracing over the golden design of the school logo, he flips the pages over, allowing seven years of memories from his high school yearbook, to drown him in the waves of nostalgia.
Turning the pages with the utmost care, the individual photo wall section shows up. Fuzzy memories of those very faces running past him in the hallways, flood his mind, involuntarily pushing him to flip faster. In the process, he almost misses those three boys. Almost.
Third last page.
A tall figure of thin stature smiles back at him from the page, chestnut hair and the familiar boxy grin flashing his happy character. A laugh bubbled out of him as he remembered the boy's mirthful laughter and mischievous pranks, which almost always resulted in detention. A shameless trickster in the eyes of the teachers, but every student's personal favourite - Kim Taehyung. A person he will always regret not befriending.
Second last page.
His stern face nearly hidden under the long, silky black locks stared back at him from the frame on the page. Killer glares, icy tones, and most frequently, the deadly smirks were what most would recall of him. But, he is certain that he'd seen from time to time how the raven-haired boy graced his two comrades with a unique gummy smile. Min Yoongi may have been the most unapproachable, but to him, he was simply a boy who needed the right people to break down his walls.
Last page. His breath hitches as he traces the outlines of the boy's face gently, his heart swelling out of fondness as he did so.
Sparkling doe eyes. Chocolate brown hair. Bunny grins. Everything draws him into the whirlpool of that boy's memories, and once again, he sits helplessly as feelings of a tiny, unrequited crush pinprick his heart. Times when he would sit beside the window, gazing at the boy who captured anyone's attention with his lively spirit and daring character for adventure, came rushing back to the front of his thoughts. Days of simply watching, as the boy would be swarmed by every student, politely engaging with all of them. Days when he could only enjoy from afar, as Taehyung, Yoongi, and the boy happily bunked classes or went for punishments together. Every moment eased its way into his mind effortlessly.
Smiling warmly, his gaze landed on the quote sitting underneath the picture: 'I would rather die, than live without passion.' If any words could describe that boy and his restless character, it was those very words. Exclamations of travelling the world, claims of exploring everything this Earth had to offer him, his eyes sparkling as he speaks powerfully about his dreams - Jeon Jeongguk was always like the jar of sweets on the topmost shelf. Unattainable yet impossible not to crave for. The one and only boy to hold the title of being his gay revelation.
Closing the book gently, he sits back on his palms, closes his eyes and smiles.
Memories were funny that way, weren't they? Sometimes, some moments can effortlessly open up the many windows to our room of memories, and we're pleasantly taken aback by it.
But that's all memories really were. A form of the human mind that serves to allow one to indulge in their past, whether it's reliving the good times or drowning in your bad ones. After all, these were people he was most probably never going to come across again in his life. Or if he did, it would be a fleeting moment that would hold no significance to either party. So, every month, he would unlock this box to satisfy the purpose of his memories. To live in the innocent times when small moments of his everyday school life were a luxury his twenty-three-year-old self would die for now. To go for one moment without the prospect of the future and its uncertainties weighing down upon him.
Shaking his head and chuckling to himself, he places the contents of his memorabilia carefully back inside, standing up, walking over, and tip-toeing to place it back where it belonged. Staring at the wooden case for a few moments, he sighs, then tears his gaze reluctantly to the books laid strewn across the white marble table, calling to him with their colourful sticky notes and highlighters.
Plopping into his seat and dragging the chair closer, he uncaps the orange highlighter and lets his soft voice pull him into the world of clinical dermatology.
"Epidermal growth factor receptor and tyrosine kinase inhibitors are standard-of-care first-line therapy for patients with — "
"Jimin-ah! Can you come out here for one second, please?"
Groaning, he throws his head back and lets it hang limply, giving himself a few seconds to breathe and reel in the frustration that would otherwise be quite evident in his tone. Screaming at the top of his lungs, Jimin cries back.
" Omma! I'm studying right now! Can you handle whatever it is yourself, please?"
Silence. Seeing as there was no further cry from his mother's side, comprehending the silence for acceptance, he smiles in satisfaction and is about to recommence with the reading when footsteps pad toward his room. Sighing, he anticipates the moment when his mother will come rushing in, requesting him to run a quick errand with a practised face of faux- innocence. Till date, he knows she still likes to believe that her motive to lure Jimin out of his room has remained undiscovered. Yet act as he may, the truth was, although grocery shopping was man's worst form of torture, he hates studying clinical dermatology tenfold times more. So if it was a grocery errand to run right now, he will happily oblige.
As expected, the steel handle bends downward, and the door opens to reveal his mother, but this time, with a perplexed look plastered on her face. That is not the look he is constantly accustomed to receiving with the endless shopping list.
"Jimin-ah. There is a Kim Taehyung standing at our door? Do you know him?" she says, peering back at their front door with a look of standard parental judgment all over her features.
"WHAT??!! "