Chapter Text
If you were to ask Yoongi Min the three things most important to him, his list would go something like this: friends, family, and basketball.
He’d close his eyes and imagine the scene in front of him. He’d picture the stands filled with spectators, the court crowded by sweating, desperate players, the ball firm in his hand bouncing up and down. He’d imagine the faint ticking of the shot clock in the background, his heart pounding in his ears. He’d practically feel his feet leave the ground as he would jump up and launch the ball toward the net. And finally, he’d picture the ball swirling in the net, the crisp swoosh as it tumbles in and the clock would give out its deafening buzz before his teammates swarmed him. Namjoon and Hoseok would hoist him up, holding him on their shoulders. Kihyun would jump up and down, screaming his head off. Jackson would be crouched down on the floor in disbelief. The announcer would say Yoongi’s name, say what he’d done for the team, and he’d smile so hard his cheeks would grow sore.
Though the scene is only in his mind, it’s enough for Yoongi to stand up, find the nearest basketball, and get right to work. It’s enough to get him through the painful, dreary school days, enough to get him through the piles of homework he faces after. It’s enough to get him through anything, really.
So, yeah. It goes in that order. Friends, then family, and then basketball.
And Yoongi wouldn’t change it for the world.
--
“Let’s go boys, keep those knees up!” Coach Choi calls from the sideline. Yoongi feels his words, hiking his knees up as far as they can go as he runs up and down the bleachers. He feels the burn in his thighs, acknowledges it, and grits his teeth as sweat drips down the side of his face.
On his left and right, Namjoon and Hoseok groan. Further down the bleachers, Kihyun slows down and clutches his stomach. Yoongi smiles at his teammates.
After a few more laps up and down, Choi calls them down. They stand in a line like soldiers, with straight backs and pointed chins, their gaze directed at their coach and nothing else, who walks up and down the line. When Choi makes eye contact with Hoseok, the boy lets out a small laugh, which eases the tension in the gym. Their subsequent laughter is laced with pounding hearts and sweat.
“Now, I don’t wanna scare any of you,” Choi begins. “But things are heating up this season. You all impressed me last year. But this year? I want to be astounded. I want you all to be astounded by yourselves. I want every person in this gym amazed by what you boys can do.” Yoongi smiles at his coach’s words. “You understand me?”
“Yes, coach!” They respond in unison.
“Excellent. Alright, the rest of you: line up and start your free throws. Captain Min, a word?” Yoongi nods and follows Choi to the other side of the gym.
“What’s up, coach?”
“These new kids. They’re no joke.”
Yoongi looks over to his team, where the group of sophomores stands. There’s Jungkook Jeon, with his versatility and strength. Behind him is Yugyeom Kim, who is faster than all of them combined. Jaehyun Jeong takes his free throw and the ball falls straight into the net as if he had calculated the perfect angle. “You’re right. They aren’t.”
“I know it’s not easy when some young, fresh meat shows up and starts stealing the spotlight. But I didn’t make you captain because you’re some superhuman. I made you the captain because of your passion, and the way you can wrangle these boys and get them together in mere seconds. Sometimes, kid, I swear you could take my job.”
“Thank you, coach.”
“I need you to know them. Make them comfortable. Make them feel like they’re a part of something. I don’t wanna see them huddled in the corner together anymore, okay?”
“Got it, coach.” Yoongi turns to join the rest of the team, but Choi clears his throat.
“One more thing,” he says, and his voice drops slightly. He puts his hand on Yoongi’s shoulder. “The grades, Min. They’re slipping again.” Yoongi can’t look Choi in the eyes. His gaze falls, and he teeters on his feet. “I know school isn’t your thing. Believe me, it wasn’t mine either. But there are rules, you know? Things I gotta do to keep my job. Work on ‘em, okay?”
“Of course. You got it.” Yoongi smiles without mirth.
“Atta boy. Get over there.” Choi swats him away, and Yoongi jogs over to his team.
Choi’s words sting. Not because he’s wrong, but because he’s completely right. Yoongi knows his grades are shit, he knows he needs to make things right in an academic sense. He just can’t.
No matter how long he spends studying, no matter how much he pays attention in class, no matter how detailed his notes are. He just can’t do it. He looks at people like Namjoon, who fly through school without so much as a detention. He sees Hoseok, careless yet still passing all of his classes by a decent margin. Yoongi sees nothing in his future. A 2.3 GPA won’t get him anywhere, not without basketball.
Namjoon takes his shot, makes it. He walks to Yoongi and pats him on the back, noticing his discomfort. “You okay, captain?”
“Yeah,” Yoongi lies. He watches Jungkook sink his free throw. “Yeah, I’m good.”
--
Textbooks, notebooks, highlighters, and pens are scattered around Yoongi’s desk. He rubs his eyes and squints to read his alarm clock: 11:36 PM.
“Shit…” he mutters. Taking up one of his pages, he scans what he’d written in class.
He needs to sleep. He knows the exhaustion isn’t helping, only worsening his ability to understand his notes, but he doesn’t know what else to do. In 12 hours, he’ll be sitting in physics taking his test, and he absolutely needs to pass this one.
The knock on his bedroom door wakes him up a little. “Yoongi? Are you still awake?” his father asks through the door.
He contemplates not responding, but realizes the light on would give him away. “Yeah, dad.”
“It’s pretty late.”
“I know. Got a big test tomorrow.”
“Oh yeah? Why don’t you get some rest? Sleep improves testing, did you know that? Geumjae told me that today on the phone.” Yoongi hums in faux interest as he opens a textbook. “When’s the last time you spoke to him?”
“Huh? Oh, Geumjae? Uh… last week, I think? Yeah.”
“Last week? Yoongi, you know he misses you.”
“Yeah, but I’m pretty busy. He is, too.” Silence. Yoongi sighs. “I’ll call him tomorrow after school.”
“Alright. Get some sleep, okay? I love you, Yoongi.”
“I love you too, dad. Goodnight.” He hears his father shuffle away.
Yoongi closes the textbook. He looks at all of his studying materials, attempting to absorb as much information as possible. He accepts that, no matter what happens, he did all that he could.
He gathers all of his things and shoves them in his backpack. He glances in the mirror on his wall at himself and smiles. “You can do this, Min,” he whispers.
Turning off his light, Yoongi climbs into bed and dreams of energy and Isaac Newton.
--
“Min!” Choi sits on the bleachers as the players file into the gym. Namjoon and Hoseok head into the locker room as Yoongi sits next to his coach. “I think you know what this is about.”
Yoongi nods.
“You failed another test.”
He nods again. There’s nothing else he can do.
“You’re failing physics. And pre-calc. And geography.”
“Coach… what does this mean for me?” His voice sounds so pitiful, so weak. Yoongi hates the sound of it.
“I’m benching you this weekend.”
“What?” he snaps up. “But it’s our first game? Can’t you… can’t you just give me one more chance? Please! I’ll do anything!”
“I’m sorry, son. It’s not up to me. Your counselor is concerned. And your father.”
“My dad? He talked to you?” Choi nods. Yoongi slumps down, his head in his hands. “I really tried, coach. I did. I studied for hours. I paid attention, I took notes. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“Hey, Min. Look at me. There is nothing wrong with you. Grades are not everything. If it were up to me, I’d have you in practice instead of class, doing something you really care about.”
“But it’s not.”
Choi frowns. “No, it’s not.”
“What do I do?”
“I would suggest getting a tutor.” Yoongi grimaces. “I know. Just… consider it. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Alright. Go get changed.”
Yoongi grabs his bag off the floor and stomps into the locker room, where the rest of the team surrounds the door.
“Were you assholes listening?”
“No!” Namjoon says.
“Yes!” Hoseok says at the same time.
Yoongi sighs and marches towards his locker. Namjoon sidles up next to him. “So what happened?”
Yoongi doesn’t answer. He opens his locker and throws his shirt off, changing into his uniform. When he closes his locker, he slams his fist into the door. “Fuck!” he shouts. “I’m benched.”
“What? Fuck no, you can’t be!” Jackson shouts.
“Fuck yes, I am! I failed another goddamn test. I don’t know what else to do.”
Namjoon pats him on the head. “It’s okay, Yoongs.”
“It’s not, though! I mean… how do you get such good grades?”
“I dunno. I study. I do homework, take notes.”
“I do all of those things. None of it fucking clicks. If I keep fucking my grades up, I’m gonna have to quit the team. Then what? I just fail more tests and have nothing else to do?”
“I’ve got an idea!” Hoseok exclaims. “I have a friend! He can tutor you!”
“A friend?”
“Yeah! His name’s Jimin. He’s, like, the top of his class and maybe the smartest guy I’ve ever met.”
“Jimin? Like, Jimin Park?”
“Uh-huh!”
“The junior?” Yoongi grumbles.
“Yes, the junior.”
“You think I want someone younger tutoring me?”
“No, obviously. But, I think it’s safe to say you’re out of options, Yoongs.”
If there’s anything Yoongi hates more than school, it’s being wrong. And if there’s anything he hates more than being wrong, it’s when Hoseok is right.
“Fuck… You think he’d actually do it?”
“Oh, please. Jimin would do anything for a friend of mine. Actually, Jimin would do anything for anyone. I’ll give you his number.” Hoseok pulls his phone out of his gym bag. “Just text him and ask. Don’t worry, he’s super nice.”
Yoongi pulls his own phone out, nursing his aching hand. “Do you know how embarrassing this is for me?”
“Oh, I’m aware!” Hoseok smiles. “I just don’t really care.”
--
After practice, Yoongi waits until everyone else is gone.
(“You sure you don’t want a ride?” Namjoon had asked.
“Nah,” Yoongi responded. “I need some time.”)
He walks out onto the court and sits right in the middle. The lights in the gym flicker off.
He tosses his gym bag off to the side, stands up, and screams.
He screams a hard-hitting, guttural scream. He screams because everything is shitty right now, and this Jimin Park kid is his last hope. He screams because everything is out of control, and now he’s found himself relying on a junior to save him. He screams until he’s out of breath, and that’s when the tears start.
As he leaves the gym, Yoongi can’t stop crying. His phone buzzes with a text from his dad.
8:57 PM
Dad:
On your way home?
8:58 PM
Me:
Yeah be there soon
He walks home, tears still streaming down his face. He stops suddenly, somewhere a few minutes from his house. He stands on the grass, staring out at the distant city lights.
Yoongi pulls out his phone.
9:03 PM
Me:
Hi is this Jimin Park?
My name is Yoongi Min
I’m Hoseok’s friend
The one who needs help