Archive of Our Own

Jimin has known Taehyung since high school, and for the past two years, it seems that all he's done is watch his friend yearn for Min Yoongi from the sidelines.

To make matters worse, he doesn’t know how—that part hasn’t been established yet—but he ended up rooming with the two of them through college. He only knows that Yoongi is two years older and his apartment vacated just as Taehyung and Jimin needed one to move into.

Their arrangement was fine except for Taehyung harboring feelings for Yoongi.

As a side character, Jimin’s role is to support the main character—Taehyung—to process his emotions and give the best advice. He’s good at it, but he’s developed a repulsion to feelings after years of teaching life lessons out of a life he never gets to experience first-hand.

Because that is what being a best friend is like. He flickers in and out of existence like a broken lamp, only lighting up whenever the main character interacts with him. Or alternatively, Taehyung has the spotlight on him at all times, and Jimin seldom gets to bathe in his shine.

He takes a breath of fresh air, encourages Taehyung to go ahead and confess to Yoongi. The main character refuses to, again—his arc has just started. So he leaves, plunging Jimin into darkness, and Jimin has to hold his breath until he comes around again.

Don’t get him wrong, Jimin loves Taehyung. He’s his best friend for a reason—but that, that hasn’t been established yet either. Later.

He just wishes he had more substance to himself. A solid backstory, perhaps. Quirks and tastes that make him unique like Taehyung. Desires and goals that keep him standing while the main character isn’t around.

The fact that he doesn’t is no one’s fault but the author’s. They are the one Jimin is mad at.

“I think it’s funny that you have time to self-insert in this, but you have no time to think of a good reason why I am the way I am,” Jimin grumps out.

Jimin is so intriguing. Why would he think like that?

“You know exactly why I’m thinking this, you nitwit! You are the one writing my thoughts!”

Jimin has a hard time keeping his temper. Sometimes it seems that fighting against the way things are is useless. He’s nothing but a side character, a part of Taehyung’s status quo, and he would be lucky to have an arc at all.

“Damn right, talking to you is useless.”

Jimin doesn’t understand that monologues mean he is talking to himself and no one will hear him. As a side character, depending on his main character’s development, he might even leave the story completely. What would that do to him?

“Is that a threat?”

Hopefully, though, if he is supportive and understanding, he will be able to stick by Taehyung’s side throughout the entire story. He might even survive the Darkest Hour if Taehyung learns from his mistakes and doesn’t decide that he needs to get rid of all his friends—Jimin, Yoongi, and Hoseok included, of course.

Jimin gets to his feet—where? He was sitting in a void and now he’s upright in a void as well—and hurls a paper cup that just materialized in his hand. Its contents spill in every direction, but it stains no important furniture that the main character would have to clean later.

“Fine, then. I will do it your way,” he says, pointing a finger in no particular direction. “But just so you know, you’re an asshole and I hate you!”

Jimin spins on his axis, not really facing anything in the nothingness, and marches without aim—just to spend the caffeine suddenly running through his veins.

There’s a yelp in the impossible distance.

“You almost gave me a heart attack! I have anxiety, you prick!” Jimin curses and fades out.

Most stories—not most of them, but a lot of them, if they're love stories—start like this.

Boy meets girl. Or boy. Or girl meets girl. Or person meets person?

At least two people meet, and they might love each other at first sight, or hate each other, or be completely indifferent and only register the other's existence weeks, months, or years later.

With Taehyung, the former happened. He was a fine arts freshman, walking into the university theater by mistake. He fell in love with Yoongi the moment he saw him perched on a stool in the corner of the stage, strumming the chords of a guitar that didn't seem to like him, but he liked her so much that he insisted until the sounds coming from the tips of his fingers were acceptable, then delectable, and soon good enough to be performed in front of other people.

"I wish I had the guts to talk to him."

"What if he doesn't like you?" Jimin asked, clearly saying the wrong thing if you want to be a good best friend helping the main character get a happy ending. He balled his hands into fists, rewording his question. "I mean, what do you think of doing to achieve this?"

"Oh, I don't know. Talking to him only sounds good in my head. I'm terrified of it coming to fruition."

"Why?"

Taehyung looked at him as if he had grown a second head. "Have you looked at him? The man is perfect! What if he ignores me, or thinks I'm not worth the time of day? I'd die!"

"You wouldn't die, come on."

"I might."

"Okay then," Jimin said, leaning on the table and wrapping his lips around the straw of his drink. He relaxed, musing on the perfection that is passion fruit juice. If the fruit had anything on the real thing, Jimin couldn’t imagine how much more delectable real love must be.

Only Jimin forgot that if Taehyung missed his chance to talk to Yoongi today, they would never become roommates. Their story would never come to be. He might fade into the ether as a discarded side character that didn’t fit the plot.

"Fine."

Taehyung looked startled. "What?"

"I will talk to him since you're too chicken."

"I'm not chicken, I just—"

"Can't hear you! I'm moving the plot for your lazy ass!"

That was how Jimin met Yoongi and found out he was a Korean major who nurtured a passion for music in his free time. Jimin brought him back to the table, thus introducing the main characters to each other and putting in motion a pining of two years.

Jimin would have a lot of work to do to aid the main characters who, despite loving each other, couldn't seem to do something about it. Fortunately, within a week, Yoongi told them he had a vacating apartment.

By the next week, the three of them were roommates.

Oh, yes. They were roomma—

"Very creative," Jimin grumbles, putting on his knee-high platform boots with buckles all along them. He adopts an edgy look and an even edgier attitude everywhere he goes. He's the type of side character who thinks he is so much more interesting than the main character that he deserves a whole story for himself.

Jimin fumes, silently thinking that he does deserve to be the main character of his story. Angry thoughts swirl in his head as usual, but he doesn’t voice them, doesn’t let anyone know because Taehyung is coming out of his room right at this moment, looking hot. Hot in the way main characters usually look when they want to accomplish something.

Yoongi has been scrolling through his phone this entire time, dark bangs shadowing his face. He’s sitting on the checkered throw blanket over the beige couch flanked by two side tables brimming with piles of unopened mail.

Once Taehyung enters, he lifts his gaze and gawks. It looks like Taehyung has accomplished something, after all.

“You look… cute,” Yoongi says.

Taehyung tosses the blond hair away from his eyes. He attempts to smile, but it’s clear how the corners of his lips struggle to pull outward.

“Cute?”

“Yes. Adorable.”

Taehyung scoffs and turns, striding back into his room. The door slams shut. Yoongi shares a look with Jimin, who should be going to his best friend’s room right now if he wants to know what happened.

“Did I say something wrong?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll talk to Tae.”

He enters Taehyung’s room and almost runs into his back.

“Tae? Why did you storm off like that?”

“Did you hear what Yoongi said?” Taehyung asks, pivoting around. “He said I’m cute!”

“Isn’t that good?”

“No!”

“Why not?”

Taehyung snorts, walks a few steps away, and turns to Jimin. He opens his arms wide, fully displaying his belly piercing halfway between low leather pants and a crop top.

“Do I look like I dressed to be cute? I wanna look hot. I want him to look at me and not be able to look away. I want him to malfunction the moment he sees me and walk straight into a light pole.”

Jimin almost laughs. Almost. The way Taehyung expresses his affection is quite peculiar—violent, even.

“Tae, I think you misunderstood what he said. He thinks you’re handsome, of course he does. He couldn’t look away from his phone until you arrived, and once you did, well—his jaw dropped.”

Taehyung stares at him for a few moments, gnawing on his lip.

“He did, didn’t he?”

Jimin is glad that he gets through to his friend on the first attempt this time.

“Yes! He thinks you’re hot, Tae. Anyone who doesn’t see how hot you are doesn’t have eyes. And even so—”

“So you think I’m hot, Jimin-ie?”

Oh, the random flirting between friends. The only flirting practice he gets has to happen on the main character’s behalf. Obviously.

Jimin closes the distance until his best friend and throws his arms around his neck, curls a leg around his hips.

“Of course, my beloved.”

He speaks with a sultry tone that Taehyung mimics. “Forget Yoongi. I want no one but you.”

“Your words are sweeter than honey, my love.”

Taehyung fastens Jimin’s leg around his waist, plastering their bodies and throwing them on his bed. They proceed to fake make out, saying the corniest lines to each other and amidst the giggles and tickling, they fail to notice the knock on the door. It’s only when Yoongi’s voice sounds from very close to the bed that they spring apart from each other with a yelp.

“So… are you guys busy? Should we cancel?”

“No! Not at all, we’re going. Right, Tae?” Jimin asks, sitting up and looking at him for confirmation.

Taehyung pushes himself up as well, albeit slowly, pursing his lips.

“Yeah.”

“It’s okay if you don’t want to go, though. We don’t have to if you guys prefer to stay at home and…” Yoongi gestures vaguely, “I don’t know. Whatever. You know I’m not a big fan of clubs.”

He looks away. Alarms go off in Jimin’s head. Tonight at the club has to happen. It’s his only chance to exist for a few hours and besides—the most important thing, Jimin, you’re not the main character, remember?—this is an important point in the story. He doesn’t know why yet, but it is. His best friend instincts tell him so.

Jimin hops out of bed, startling the other two. He pulls Taehyung to his feet and huddles the three of them together. Taehyung looks intently at him while Yoongi looks pointedly at their feet.

“We are going, okay? Tae, you look scrumptious, stop doubting yourself. Yoongi, there will be plenty of booze if you need it to loosen up. We’ll be fine,” he says. He hopes that fine means Yoongi and Taehyung will finally hook up or get drunk enough to confess to each other, or something of the sort. “Alright?”

He regards Taehyung’s flustered expression, deeming a job well done. He strokes his head for good measure. When he turns to Yoongi, the other is already staring at him.

“I hope they have whiskey.”

“Does that mean that you’re still going?”

Yoongi clears his throat, shoving his hands in the pockets of his cargo pants. He walks to the door of Taehyung’s room, waves them out with his head. “Let’s go.”

Jimin watches him go, still glued to Taehyung. His best friend sighs.

“‘Let’s go’ he says. That man is so hot.”

Taehyung is head over heels. There’s no way this can go wrong. Jimin pats his friend’s chest.

“Come one, Tae. Let’s go get your man.”

Everything does, in fact, go wrong.

From the moment they step inside the club, Yoongi deserts them to have an affair with the scotch bottle. They sit in a booth at first, but within the first hour, Yoongi excuses himself and never returns. Jimin and Taehyung find him when they’re on the dance floor, watching him hunch over the counter at a distance and talk animatedly with the bartender.

“What is he doing?” Taehyung asks.

“I don’t know. We should talk to him.”

“What if he doesn’t want to talk to us?”

Taehyung hesitates. It’s clear that he thinks something is wrong. When it comes to Yoongi, Taehyung’s ability to interact disappears.

“Of course he does, he’s our friend!”

“He ran from us as soon as we got here.”

“Don’t worry about that, Tae. You know how Yoongi is. He probably just wanted to discuss something utterly specific about when his scotch was bottled or something. Either that or something happened to him today at work.”

“Or it’s something else entirely. He was fine earlier.”

Jimin knows. Jimin ignores. He has to succeed tonight. “Let’s go, we’ll talk to him.”

They approach the bar on both sides of Yoongi. He leans back, seemingly surprised, looking back and forth between them. “Why are you here?”

“Why are you here?” Taehyung asks, and from his tone, Jimin knows he is upset. “You left us there. Did something happen?”

“No. Nothing.”

“Really? You can talk to us, you know.”

Jimin barely catches it in the loud ambiance of the club. However, he’s sure that Yoongi, who’s closer, heard it. Which is weird since he pretends he didn’t.

“What?”

“Let’s go back to the table,” Taehyung says, louder.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’m gonna dance a bit.”

Taehyung clamps his mouth shut. Jimin mirrors him, and they exchange looks over Yoongi’s head.

“You’re gonna dance?”

“That’s a great idea!” Jimin pipes in, seeing this as the opportunity it is. “You and Tae should dance, I’ll sit for a bit. I’m tired.”

Taehyung looks equal parts grateful and embarrassed. Jimin feels satisfied with his work, but Yoongi’s next words break the short blissful moment.

“I’m—uh, I’m sorry, Tae. I’m waiting for Namjoon to get off and I’ll dance with him.”

Taehyung blanches, mouth hanging open. “Namjoon? Who’s that?”

“The bartender,” he replies and downs his drink, asking for another. When the bartender swivels closer to fill his glass again, Yoongi throws him one of his rare smiles.

Jimin’s best friend looks from one to the other, bafflement quickly giving place to dismay on his features.

“I’ll wait in the booth, then,” he says and darts away.

“Tae! Wait, don’t go—” Jimin gives a couple of steps but stops.

Yoongi doesn’t move, only hunching further over the counter, gripping the glass with his fingers.

Jimin leans with one elbow on the bar, perusing his friend’s profile.

“What the hell was that, hm?”

“Am I not allowed to dance with someone who isn’t you or Taehyung for once?”

His voice bites. Perhaps he has had too much to drink. Jimin attempts to remove the drink from his hands, but Yoongi only clings harder.

“Hyung, I don’t know what’s going on, but it sounds like something happened, and I think we should talk. You should talk to Taehyung, specifically. I think you hurt him just now.”

Yoongi’s head snaps to him, showing how red his eyes are for the first time.

“Why would he be hurt? Tell me, what exactly did I do to hurt him?”

“Well,” he starts, but stops himself.

Taehyung likes you and is extremely sensitive to everything you do. By dancing with someone else, you practically signed his execution. It will take him hours to recover from this, he’s so dramatic.

But Jimin knows he can’t say that out loud. One of the reasons why being a side character is so tiring is that he has to steer the two main characters closer without ever outright revealing that they are in love with each other.

If Jimin wants to be a good best friend who won’t get discarded later in the story—

“Yeah, I know, I know. Stop talking.”

“Who are you talking to?”

“No one. Just believe me. If you go after Tae right now, everything will be fine.”

Jimin has a feeling that what he says doesn’t get through to him. To make matters worse, Namjoon chooses that moment to make an appearance.

He approaches them on this side of the bar, nodding to Jimin and combing his pink hair back with his fingers. “Hi.”

“Hello,” Yoongi says. He appears a little awkward, but that could just be him normally. He hops off his seat and steps beside Namjoon, then looks at Jimin. “Tae will be fine either way. I don’t wanna leave Joon-ie waiting, so. I guess I’ll see you later.”

He doesn’t waste much time after that, grabbing Namjoon’s wrist and disappearing into the crowd.

Jimin walks the entire perimeter of the club trying to find Taehyung again, to no avail. He rounds back to the bar in the end, feeling defeated even as he finds a free stool and slumps on it with a sigh.

"Hi," someone says to his right.

He looks up and—this guy is handsome. His jaw is sharp, his eyes are light brown and round.

And he’s eccentric. His hair is cobalt blue and he has at least a dozen piercings between his eyebrows, lips, and ears. The man has tattoos up his neck. His frame is swallowed by a purple parka jacket that he’s still wearing despite being indoors—and spring.

"Hello."

He keeps to himself after that, but the stranger seems plenty comfortable doing the talk for him.

"Do you know what you get when you cross an angry sheep and an angry cow?"

Jimin fully intended to sit here and relax until he found Taehyung again, but the sheer randomness of the question makes him twist to face the stranger head-on.

"Excuse me?"

The stranger smiles. His face blooms with color and he averts his gaze, but pushes on to say, "You get two animals in a baa-d moo-d."

Jimin stares at him until the man looks crimson. He giggles despite that, covering his red ears with his hands. He only removes them to turn down a call, then hides them again.

It's the most endearing thing that Jimin has ever seen. And as he thinks the joke over in his head, it was actually kind of funny.

"Are you okay?" He laughs, worried about how flustered the man can get before he passes out and Jimin has to drag him to the hospital. He pats his shoulder tentatively and the man looks up, at last. He still looks embarrassed, but it seems that the worst has passed.

"I'm alright, thanks. I keep forgetting that people actually hear me when I say things out loud."

Jimin blinks. That sounds like something he’s used to. "I'm Jimin."

"Jeongguk."

"Nice to meet you. Do you talk to yourself a lot?"

"Not always," he replies, biting his lip.

He has the cutest mole under it. The way he wrings his fingers gives away that he's nervous.

"Right."

"A bit."

"All the time?"

"Yeah," Jeongguk laughs, smiles. His teeth are remarkably white. "All the time. It's weird, I know."

"It's not. If you're weird, so am I. I do that all the time too."

"That's funny."

"Why?"

"How do I know if you're not just another weirdo?"

Jeongguk says it in good spirits, Jimin can tell. But he's lived too long with himself being just another weirdo, just a side character with no backstory or plotline of his own to take it lightly.

"I'm sorry. I said something stupid, didn't I?"

"No, you didn't, don't worry," Jimin says, wanting to appease Jeongguk despite having just met him. He roams his gaze around the club once more, trying to find Taehyung, but his eyes stop on something else instead. "Holy shit."

"What is it—" Jeongguk turns to look, "Crap."

"My best friend—" they say in unison, heads snapping to each other.

Jimin gathers his thoughts for a moment. "Are our best friends kissing each other?"

"Is shorty your friend?"

"Is Namjoon yours?"

Jeongguk nods. Jimin releases a defeated breath, sagging against the counter. He prays that Taehyung doesn't see it, at least.

But almost as soon as the thought crosses his mind, he sees a pair of gleaming eyes across the dancefloor, and then a blur of blonde hair as Taehyung flees the scene and dashes to the exit.

"Shit. I gotta go after him."

Jimin leaps off the stool and bounds after Taehyung without thinking twice. He cuts through the writhing bodies, catching a glimpse of Namjoon’s hand on Yoongi’s ass, choosing to address that later. How did things go wrong so quickly? He has a huge load of work to do now to get everything back on track.

He reaches the exit and steps into the cold night air, not taking very long to find his best friend against the wall a few steps away, tapping furiously on his phone.

“Tae! Tae, I’m sorry.”

He looks up the moment he hears him. His eyes look moist and his nose red and Jimin knows it’s not from the cold.

“It’s okay, you didn't do anything.”

“I know, but I’m still sorry. I promise you that Yoongi has no idea what he’s doing. He doesn’t even know that guy.”

“And yet he had no problem shoving his tongue down his throat, did he?”

“Tae,” Jimin calls, taking his friend in an embrace. The other doesn’t pull away but doesn’t return it either, all his attention focused on his phone. “What are you doing?”

“Calling a cab.”

“Are you going home?”

“No.”

“Where are you going, then?”

“To Wooshik’s.”

Jimin gapes.

No, no, not to Wooshik’s. Jimin can’t let Taehyung have a relapse with his ex.

“I thought you said you said you were over him.”

“And I am. Which is why I can sleep with him for comfort if I want, no strings attached.”

“Tae—”

“I won’t change my mind, so please don’t try to convince me otherwise. The cab should arrive at any moment.”

But Jimin has to say something, doesn’t he? Otherwise, how will he guarantee that the main characters get together in the end?

“Tae, please come back inside. There are things you don’t know, I swear—you and Yoongi just need to talk.”

“I don’t feel like talking to Yoongi and Namjoon right now.”

“I know, but even so—”

“Please, Minnie. I don’t wanna argue with you.”

And this is how Jimin knows that he is too early in the story. Taehyung is still starting his arc and pushing him too hard at this point could result in getting prematurely kicked out.

Jimin sighs, resigned, watching Taehyung leave for his ex's house. He only has a few minutes left before his world fades to nothing, so he retraces his steps to the bar in search of a nightcap. He’s sipping hot scotch when he looks to the side and finds Jeongguk exactly where he left him.

“I’m guessing your friend left?”

“Yeah, he did. I tried to make him stay but he didn’t listen to me.”

“I know what you mean. Namjoon hyung didn’t listen to me either.”

“Oh? Were you trying to convince him of something?”

“Yeah, I was trying to—no offense—get him away from your friend. He and my other friend are in a situationship and I’m trying to help them get somewhere with it but hyung keeps messing it up.”

Once again Jeongguk surprises him with how similar their circumstances are.

“I know, right? Why can’t they just get their shit together?”

“It’s like they have the whole time in the world to fuck it up. They sort of do,” Jeongguk says, whispering the last part. “But enough about them. How about you?”

“Me?” Jimin asks, pointing at himself. He grapples with the question—has anyone ever asked about him before? “What do you want to know about me?”

“Well, what brought you here?”

“Tae and Yoongi hyung brought me here.”

“Really? But besides that, why did you want to come here?”

Something stirs unpleasantly inside Jimin, simply because when he thinks about his own goals and past, he comes up blank. He takes a defensive route instead.

“What kind of question is that?”

“I was just wondering. You look like quite an interesting character.”

Jimin snorts. “Appearances are deceiving.”

“You just sound like you have no backstory.”

He stills. It seems that he is finally seeing Jeongguk for the first time. “How do you know that?”

"I knew it as soon as I saw you. You're a side character too, aren’t you?"

Jimin opens his mouth to retort, but no sound comes out. He was so caught up in the conversation with Jeongguk that he never noticed the edges of the club growing dark, the blackness devouring more and more of his surroundings.

“No, I wanna talk to him! I never met another conscious side character before!”

Unbeknownst to him, his words fall on deaf ears. Nobody really hears what a side character has to say.

“Jeongguk does. He was listening to me!”

And it was the first time someone did that.

But soon enough, the void smothers his protests and Jimin disappears.

Whenever Taehyung is not around, Jimin’s world is void. And usually, when he returns, Jimin has a lot of catching up to do.

“Wait, what? You’re back together?”

Taehyung nods, solemn. "He has a stable job now and finding time to be together won’t be a problem anymore. He asked me in the middle of the park. Woo paid a choir to carol for us, can you believe it?”

Woo? A choir?

“He did all of that after you left the club?”

“Of course not, dummy. We’ve been seeing each other for a week and got together yesterday. Where have you been?”

Wallowing in side-characterness for seven days, apparently. Amazing how quickly things can take a turn for the bad.

“Your brother called, by the way. He wants to meet to s—”

“Tae, you don’t like Woosik. How the hell are you going to keep dating him?”

“Of course I like him!”

“Yeah, but—”

“You’re dating Woosik again?” Yoongi asks.

They whip around to where he crept into the apartment without being heard, his arms full of groceries. Taehyung picks at the seam of the couch as the silence stretches.

“Yeah.”

“And you’re happy with it?”

“Of course. Very happy.”

“Jimin-ah… you don’t have a problem with it?”

Jimin struggles to speak—yes, he has a problem, but not one he can say out loud.

“I mean, not really, but—”

“Isn’t it great, hyung? I’m finally with someone who appreciates me.”

Not that Woosik could be the kind of person to appreciate someone. But all of them know that that is not what this conversation is about.

“Yeah. Fantastic.”

Taehyung smiles. Only Jimin is close enough to watch how it trembles slightly.

“Thank you.”

“I have to go out now.”

“Wait, already?” Jimin asks. “You just arrived.”

“I just realized I forgot to buy clementines,” he says, placing the groceries in the kitchen and returning to the door. “I’ll be right back.”

Yoongi wasn’t lying; he really forgot to buy his precious fruits. His clementine run, however, will last until the next day at 6 am when he will reenter their shared apartment, completely intoxicated.

Jimin groans. “Argh. I bet he will.”

“What?”

Jimin sighs, resigned. He holds Taehyung’s hands between them. “Tae, don’t you think you’re going too fast with this?”

“Not really? Woo and I had a lot of ups and downs, you know. It actually took us a while to get here, so I don’t think it’s too fast.”

“Yeah, but—to get back with him all of a sudden? I thought you liked Yoongi?”

“Well… that’s in the past. Clearly.”

“No! Tae, no—it’s not in the past at all! I swear to God if you just talked to him—”

“I have nothing to talk to him regarding this. It’s not important anymore.”

“If it’s not important, then why are you using Woosik to get over Yoongi?”

As soon as he says it, Jimin knows it was the wrong thing to say. Taehyung reels back, letting go of his hands. He steps off the couch, towering over him.

“I would never do that to Woo! What type of person do you think I am?”

“I’m sorry, Tae. I didn’t mean to insult you.”

“Yeah, but you did. Damn it, Jimin, I thought you would be happy for me. Can’t you be happy for me?”

No, Jimin can’t. Woosik isn’t the person Taehyung is supposed to end up with, and the longer they stay together, the more unstable Jimin’s situation becomes. One thing feeds off the other, making him feel guilty about everything.

“Yes, I am happy for you.”

“I really hope you are,” Taehyung says, marching to his room. He turns to him once he reaches the door. “Woo said he wants to do things right this time. He wants us to have dinner together at the Marie Anne.”

“Who’s us?”

“The three of us and him.”

“I doubt Yoongi hyung will want to go.”

Taehyung does something between a toss of the head and a shrug. “Will you come?”

“If you want me to, then I will.”

That seems to appease his best friend at last. “Thank you. I’ll go to bed now.”

“I’m sorry, Tae.”

He waves him off. “It’s fine. Goodnight.”

“Sleep well.”

The next time Jimin sees Jeongguk comes out of the blue and leaves him fuming. It's not Jeongguk's fault; he's still as endearing as always.

"It's your fault!" Jimin hisses. "How come I'm the only side character with no backstory? You're a lousy writer, did you know that?"

Woosik looks alarmed. Taehyung lays a calming hand on his arm.

"Minnie, who are you talking to?"

This is getting annoying. "No one."

The three of them are out having dinner a week after Taehyung mentioned it. Yoongi has made himself scarce since then and said he was busy with a project, hence not being able to come.

They knew it was an excuse, but Taehyung pretended not to care. In fact, he seemed delighted that Yoongi was avoiding him. Something about giving as good as he got, or something.

Jimin was sullen about the whole ordeal, but as a good best friend, it was in his best interest to attend dinner with Woosik. That, and he couldn't stand the void anymore. Taehyung left him alone there so often he was starting to rethink his best friend status.

If he had any agency, he would swap Hoseok and Taehyung. He's sure that the former wouldn't leave him to his own devices as often.

As it was, Jimin was sulking at the table until the waiter arrived. Taehyung and Woosik gathered around the menu while Jimin stared out the window, fiddling with the linen napkins. After a couple of minutes of discussion and the waiter awkwardly standing by the table, Taehyung finally emerged.

“There are so many options, I can’t decide! What would you suggest?”

“Do you like potatoes?” a familiar voice asked.

“Yes.”

“There’s no going wrong with codfish and potatoes. It’s spud-tacular.”

The air stilled and Jimin turned around slowly, coming face to face with none other than Jeongguk. He was properly flushed, looking about to pass out from embarrassment.

“Oh my God, it’s you!”

“I’m so sorry, forget what I said. Actually, don’t forget what I said, this really is one of our most popular dishes. You should order it.”

Taehyung laughed, thus getting the attention of the others.

"We’ll have that, then.”

Dinner dragged on thereafter, mainly because Jimin couldn’t wait to talk to Jeongguk in private. There was also the problem of putting up with Taehyung and Woosik being over-the-top lovey-dovey with each other. Disgusting.

Jimin excused himself to the bathroom, appraising the decorative white and blue tiles on the walls until his gaze stopped on Namjoon serving another table. He whistled to himself, relieved that Taehyung didn’t see him. Soon after he ran into Jeongguk and found out he had a backstory.

“Listen, I don’t share this very often, but you seem trustworthy. I don’t talk to my family, I broke ties with them. That’s why I work here. I need the money until I finish school.”

Jimin didn’t need to work, but he didn’t know why. No backstory.

“What do you study?”

“Early childhood education.”

“Oh. That’s lovely!”

“Yeah, well,” Jeongguk shook his head, “it is lovely, but for me, it’s about looking after the little kids. There are some things that only school and an attentive teacher can help with. Family isn’t everything.”

What he said stirred something in Jimin, but he didn’t know the reason behind it.

“How do you know that?”

“Huh?”

“How—why? Do you know why you feel that way?”

Jeongguk wavered, not looking so comfortable anymore.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Argh, see? Everyone has a backstory but me. Everything I do is related to Tae or Yoongi somehow. And it makes no sense if you think about it. I go to college, but I don’t remember stepping foot there. If I study, how do I pay the bills? Do I have a sugar daddy or a wealthy uncle? What the hell is my undergrad?”

Jeongguk chuckles and Jimin’s gaze latches onto the shake of his shoulders, the way his plump lips part in a smile. He really is stunning, quirky, and dainty at the same time.

“And how come you’re just a side character? You give off main character energy.”

“You’re funny,” Jeongguk said, face filling up with color at an alarming speed. “Can I, can I get your number?”

“Oh. Yes. Yes, of course you can.”

Jimin returned to the table after that, a fuzzy feeling making him see everything through a rosy lens.

That is until it wore off and he remembered that he still had no goals, no backstory, and no motivation.

“You should watch out. I will end you,” Jimin whispers, trying to go unnoticed by Taehyung and Woosik across the table.

Perhaps that is his motivation, after all. To kill poor, innocent writers.

“You’re guilty! Don’t try to plead innocence now!”

“Minnie, are you okay?”

“Great! I’m great!”

He looks into himself, glowering at the writer in his mind’s eye. This isn’t the last of it.

Sometimes, Jimin appears to be from another time. A time before any technology existed and people had to communicate with smoke.

“You know I can hear you, right?”

It’s the only explanation for why he doesn’t use his phone, even though he has one. Jimin could have communicated with Jeongguk if he wanted, and yet he didn’t.

“I wanted to! But there’s no signal in this huge non-place!”

Not for the first time, Jimin is mistaken. He sucks in a harsh breath, ready to protest about the sad reality of side characters, when his phone pings with a text.

“What?”

He fishes it out of his pocket and unlocks the screen, coming face to face with a message from none other than Jeongguk. ‘What do lions use to look at their manes?’ it says. Jimin rolls his eyes, but there’s a smile on his face as he replies that he doesn’t know.

Another text comes in moments later.

“Mir-roars,” Jimin reads, throwing his head back with laughter. Even though they’re apart, he can see Jeongguk blushing to his ears, clear as day. “Oh my, he’s so adorable. I wish I could see him more often.”

The thought brings everything to a stop. Since when has he wanted anything that wasn’t directly Taehyung-related?

He can’t help but to want to see Jeongguk, though. He would understand the struggles of being a side character. Perhaps they could help each other pass the time.

And only Jimin knows how much time he has to spend alone in the void waiting for Taehyung to want him around.

“Jeez, thanks for the reminder.”

So he texts Jeongguk that the joke was funny and asks how he’s doing. Jeongguk tells him that he’s trying to catch up on his studies and only made a brief pause during which he decided to text Jimin. He’s flattered—nobody outside Taehyung and Yoongi remembers him like that.

Jimin forgets about Taehyung for some time, then. He doesn’t care if that means he’s being a bad friend. Let him worry about the main character once the main character decides to care about him.

It’s really curious that despite studying at the same university, they hardly ever see each other. Jimin thinks that it’s due to the lack of specificity; he doesn’t know what his major is.

But as of right now, that has changed. Jimin is a Maths major.

“That makes a lot of sense. Now I know why I never existed in college before.”

Something else changes today. He learns that he and Taehyung enrolled in an optative art class just to spend more time together. They are crossing the lawn after leaving class, discussing Jimin's wacky rendering of a car—his painting looked like something a five-year-old would make with the jagged windows and the askew wheels.

"You'll get better, Minnie."

And then Taehyung starts talking about Woosik.

“He is so caring now. He's nothing like before. I think we're going to work this time around."

Taehyung's eyes shine when he says that, and if he didn’t know that they aren't the endgame, Jimin would be delighted for his friend. Meanwhile, Jimin’s mind swirls constantly with thoughts of getting Taehyung and Yoongi together and of Jeongguk.

By the way, Jimin has exactly one point of backstory now, and it comes as a surprise when it's not related to Taehyung. Jimin has a brother who he has a strained relationship with. He figured that out while talking to Jeongguk and learning that he also has a bad relationship with his older brother, who has Jimin’s age.

The memory of Jeongguk makes Jimin’s chest clench in a way he's not familiar with, and even stranger is the fact that he doesn't get the urge to cringe at the feeling.

It's cozy, warm. He wants to cherish it, for some reason.

As if conjured up by his thoughts—nonsense, a side character would never have such power—Jeongguk crosses their path just a few steps away.

Jimin doesn't hesitate to call his name, and then Jeongguk is looking at them and smiling. The closer he gets, the redder his ears become.

"Hey, hyung. Didn't think I'd see you here."

"Me neither," he says, smiling back. He forgets (oh my God!) about Taehyung until his friend elbows him in the ribs.

"Sorry! This is Taehyung, he's my best friend. This is Jeongguk, he's—" what?

Jimin's penance partner? His side character confident? The guy Jimin can't stop talking to or thinking about ever since he met him?

"We've met recently, but we're friendly," Jeongguk replies in his place. Jimin is thankful for that.

“Oh, I see. Friendly.”

Jeongguk ducks his head, blushes. Taehyung tilts his head, looking curious.

“You’re the waiter from the other day, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Ah, I knew I had seen you before!”

“We’ve been running into each other a lot lately, haven’t we?” Jimin asks.

“Right. Accidentally,” Taehyung says, looking distractedly around them. He stops skimming at the ice cream cart. “Anyone wants a cone?”

“No, we’re okay. Right, Jeongguk?”

He nods. Taehyung smiles.

“It was nice to meet you. I hope we see each other around!”

He walks away with a wave and Jimin watches him until he reaches the cart. Then he releases a breath, looking apologetically at Jeongguk.

“Sorry for that. I wanted him to leave because I was afraid—I have nothing against your friend, okay? But I’m trying to look after Tae, here. I’m sure you can understand.”

“Are you talking about Namjoon?”

“Yes, him.”

“Isn’t Tae dating someone else?”

“Yeah, but he’s still in love with Yoongi—he’s in denial. He’ll flip if he sees Namjoon and I’m sure neither of us wants that.”

Jeongguk crosses his arms and curls a finger around a lock of hair. Jimin has the strangest urge to do the same.

“It’s fine, I get it. No need to worry, though. Namjoon hyung didn’t come today.”

“He didn’t?”

“No, he had a recording to make. He studies music.”

“How cool!”

“He mentioned going with your friend, actually. Yoongissi, right?”

Jimin’s jaw drops. “He went with Yoongi hyung ?”

“That’s what I gathered. They’ve been hanging out a lot. I’ve seen him around the apartment a couple of times.”

“Oh my God.”

“What?”

Now Jimin is worried that Yoongi found himself a sound substitute for Taehyung. Someone who shares the same passion and with whom he can stay hours inside a studio bonding and perhaps falling in love with.

“Shit, I’m so screwed. This is all wrong.”

“What is wrong?”

“Namjoon and Yoongi! They’re not supposed to end up together!”

Jeongguk nods with a sympathetic smile. “I feel for my friend too. Jin hyung has been pining for Namjoon hyung for ages—”

“Yeah, but the plot! The plot—I only exist if they end up together!” he exclaims, breaths quickening.

“Hyung, are you alright?”

“No, not really.”

An understatement. Jimin is so distraught he missed one vital piece of information.

“Huh? What was it?”

“I never said anything.”

How is Jeongguk here if Namjoon, the main character of his story, isn't around?

Jimin’s stomach drops, head whipping up to Jeongguk’s face.

“Wait, Namjoon’s not here?”

“That’s what I said, yeah.”

“How come? How are you still here, then?”

Jeongguk smiles, a small pinch between his eyebrows. He rubs Jimin’s arm soothingly.

“Hey, you seem distressed. Calm down, okay? Hyung and I aren’t glued at the hip, we can be away from each other.”

Except that doesn’t get into Jimin’s head.

“How?”

“Exactly like you and Tae, hyung. I don’t see him around, do you?”

Jimin doesn’t. He spins around, but there isn’t a sign of Taehyung in the wide patio.

“Shit, where did he go? I always tell him not to get too far!”

As if on cue, his phone pings with a text. Taehyung tells him he left to meet Woosik in his apartment. ‘Enjoy your time with Jeongguk ;)’

No. That means he doesn’t have long until the void sucks him in again.

He grabs Jeongguk’s shoulders, shakes him to get his full attention.

“I need you to tell me how you do that! How did you untether your existence from your main character? Please, tell me!” he demands, and as he’s met with silence, the hysteria skyrockets. “Tell me, now! Quick, Jeongguk, I don’t have much time!”

But it’s too late.

The sun dims and his knees falter. Before his body hits the grass, the green fades to black, and Jimin is swallowed by the void again.

If being a side character made Jimin feel inadequate before, now he feels that there is something wrong with him specifically. Jeongguk is a side character as well, but he still manages to have a backstory, goals, and dreams.

Jimin is as empty as the void he's stepping on. A paradox that he needs to solve, now.

“Why do I need to solve this? This is your fault. Why don’t you do something? I’m already dealing with plenty here!”

He means his mental breakdown, of course. It’s always hard to accept it when you’re the odd one out. Unsurprisingly, Jimin doesn’t notice that having all these feelings means that he’s changed already.

“I didn’t sign up for this. I thought all I had to do was bring Tae and Yoongi together! I thought it would be easy!”

Life, however, is never easy.

“I just wanna be a good side character, you know? One that isn’t left behind and has a personality for a change. Why is that so hard? Jeongguk pulls it off just fine!”

Jimin has a tendency to reach conclusions without putting a lot of thought into them. That usually leads him in the wrong direction.

“Why are you always so cryptic? Stop being an ass and help me out, damn it!”

Jimin screams the last part. For the first time, the sound returns to his ears as an echo. He freezes. Is the void not boundless anymore?

“What’s going on?”

The void dissolves again.

“Hello there, sleepy head.”

Jimin comes to with long fingers carding through his hair. He tries stretching his arms above his head but they hit something both firm and cushioned. His eyes snap open. Jeongguk stops moving. Jimin wishes it would continue.

“Sorry, the couch was the best I could do. My room is a mess and Namjoon hyung’s is even worse, so… here we are.”

He pushes to a sit, looking around. There’s a corridor to one side and a door that he assumes leads to the kitchen on the other. The living room is bare but for the couch, a TV, and a shelf bursting with books.

"This is where you live?”

“Yeah. Me and Namjoon hyung, actually. You passed out while we were talking, remember? I didn’t know what to do, so I called hyung. Yoongissi was with him and he picked up the phone the moment I mentioned you. They told me to come here and wait for you to wake up.”

The reminder of their conversation rouses Jimin to full wakefulness.

“I was in the void. I always fall there whenever Tae isn’t around since he’s the main character.”

“I know. Yoongissi explained it to me.”

“You don’t, though. How?”

“I don’t know, it’s always been like that. Maybe having a backstory helps?”

Jimin’s shoulders sag. “Fuck.”

“The void is whenever our friends aren’t around, right? I fall into it too, but mine looks exactly like real life. It’s just… lonely. I get lost in thought a lot.”

“I knew it! Do you talk to the author as well?”

“I—yes.”

“‘All the time’, right?”

Jeongguk nods. His cheeks tinge a faint red.

Despite running into a dead end, finding someone like himself is so satisfying. Jimin feels a tad more understood. He has never felt something like that before.

There are a lot of things that feel new to him.

“I’m glad we met. Really glad.”

The other smiles. “Me too.”

“You have expert hands.”

“Huh?”

“Your head rub almost made me not want to wake up again.”

“Oh, no, I wouldn’t want you to not wake up anymore.”

“You know what I mean, silly.”

One of the recent developments manifests now. Jimin wants Jeongguk’s hand back on him, a craving that he’s never had toward anyone but his main character friends.

A part of him suspects that Jeongguk has too many main character traits, but he squashes that thought down—it would mean that Jeongguk has a faultless pair out there just waiting for him, and Jimin is just starting to admit that he might have a crush on the younger.

Yet another feeling, and yet again it doesn’t disgust him. What has become of him?

Jimin lies back down, and Jeongguk raises an eyebrow at him.

“If it’s not too much to ask, could you… keep doing what you were doing?”

“Yeah.”

The pads of Jeongguk’s fingers touch and run through his scalp, and Jimin hums in appreciation. He feels content, his head void of concerns for a change.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“What does your void look like?”

“Just like the name suggests. Completely empty. It’s black in every direction, there’s no distinction from up or down or anything. I can stand up but I don’t have a floor to step on.”

“Wow. That sounds daunting.”

“It’s annoying. Nothing happens while I’m in the void. I can stay there for days, even weeks if I don’t meet Tae. I always have to catch up after.”

“So you don’t remember anything that happens in the meantime?”

Jimin frowns. “How would I? I’m not in the scene, I don’t know what’s happening.”

Jeongguk is silent for a moment. “Right.”

“You don’t miss out on anything?”

“Nope.”

Jimin sits up again, Jeongguk’s hand sliding and resting on Jimin’s lap. He didn’t notice it before, but Jeongguk’s glasses are round and almost too big for his face. His eyes are a deep brown, nearly black. His various piercings are notoriously gone; he looks soft, touchable.

“Were you wearing contacts when we met?”

“I was. They’re graded.”

“Your eyes look beautiful without them.”

Jeongguk smiles, thus evidencing the mole under his lip. Jimin has to hold himself not to sigh, or outwardly admit he wants to peck the beauty mark.

So he lies down again and closes his eyes. Jeongguk resumes his ministrations, fingers carding through his hair. Jimin loosens up, his breaths turning quiet.

“Is it okay if I sleep again?”

“Sure. I’ll wake you up when hyung and Yoongissi return.”

“Okay,” he says. “Thanks, Gguk.”

Jimin likes reading.

He rakes his eyes over the shelf in Jeongguk’s living room, growing giddy with every book he recognizes. He trails a finger over the spines.

“Human Acts is my favorite by Han Kang, although The Vegetarian is also good,” Namjoon says beside him.

Jeongguk is on his other side, hands in his pockets, attentively watching Jimin explore their little library and shaking his head.

“Hyung is too cult for me. I’m a Lovecraft guy.”

“Isn’t Lovecraft cult at this point?”

“I don’t know. What determines if something is a cult novel?”

“The following it gathers,” Jimin intervenes. He doesn’t know how he knows that, but he’s riveted that he does. “The content also plays a big part. A lot of cult novels or authors said things that were innovative or controversial at some point. Their work was groundbreaking.”

“You know a lot about this, hyung. Do people in Maths usually read much?”

Jimin shrugs. “No clue.”

Namjoon arrived minutes ago with Yoongi, who hugged Jimin on sight. He wasn’t even properly awake yet. After he examined him and deemed him healthy, the oldest left for the kitchen to let the other three get to know each other.

Only after that did Jimin realize that he hadn’t fallen into the void the whole time. He sent a text to Taehyung explaining what happened and where he was, but his absence didn’t make a difference.

Perhaps Yoongi was responsible for that. That was a novelty too, but it made sense since he was a main character as well. Maybe he had been close enough when he was talking to Jeongguk that he had managed to stay conscious. He doesn’t understand how the reach works.

All those concerns went flying out of his head once he approached the bookshelf and the small piece of his backstory fell into place, though. Jimin’s way too excited about it now.

“I have read this one. And this one. I love Murakami.”

“You have good taste,” Namjoon comments.

“And Verne. Can I borrow this one?”

“What, Christine?” Jeongguk asks. His phone rings and he turns it off, excusing himself.

"Yeah."

“Sure. I bought it three years ago and read it a couple of times. We can talk about it over coffee after you read it if you want.”

Jimin beams. He never made plans that weren’t directly connected to Taehyung or Yoongi before. This is refreshing. And he secretly hopes that discussing books over coffee can be a date.

Jeongguk’s crimson ears are the answer he needs.

“I would love that.”

There’s a knock on the door, and they all turn to look at it. Yoongi shows up at the entrance to the kitchen, wearing an apron and trying to fend the hair off his eyes with the back of his hands.

“Can someone else get that? I’m busy.”

“Sure,” Jeongguk says, striding to the entrance.

Namjoon walks behind Yoongi and pulls a scrunchie from his pocket, pulling his hair up into a spiky ponytail. He pulls Yoongi back with his hands on his shoulders, leaning to his front to check the look.

Yoongi ducks his head, laughing in a way that Jimin knows is supposed to hide his embarrassment.

“I look ridiculous, don’t I?”

“You look cute, hyung,” Namjoon replies.

Jeongguk walks in with the guest. Taehyung stops with one foot inside the living room, taking in the scene before him. His expression is stony.

“Tae? What are you doing here?” Jimin asks.

“I came to pick you up.”

"I thought Yoongissi was going to take hyung back?"

"I was."

"Oh, so I'm not needed. I should leave, then."

"No, no, no, stay!" Namjoon approaches Taehyung, looks him in the eye. Taehyung flinches minimally, but Jimin notices. "Yoongi hyung was about to make dinner. I'm sure it'll be alright if you join us."

Taehyung ignores him.

"You're cooking?"

"Yes."

"You must really like staying here. It's like you don't even live with Jimin and me anymore."

"Tae-yah, we were hungry. I know how to cook. That's—"

"I'll be leaving in any case. I have an assignment to hand in." He turns to Jimin. "Minnie, are you coming?"

He doesn't want to. Jimin really wishes he could stay more time with the others, especially Jeongguk, exploring his newfound hobby.

But Taehyung's eyes draw him in, and years of being a best friend take their toll on him.

"Of course, Tae. I have an assignment too."

Jeongguk looks at him, Yoongi and Taehyung look at each other. Namjoon's gaze flickers over the others, a frown marring his features.

Jimin shakes his hand and hugs Yoongi awkwardly, the dirty hands not allowing him to return the hug in full. When the time comes to say goodbye to Jeongguk, Jimin stops in front of him.

Jeongguk tries to hide the red of his ears with his hands. "Au revoir, mon ami."

"Huh?"

"It's goodbye in French."

"Oh. Right."

"Do you know what you call someone who can say goodbye in two languages?"

Jimin can guess. But he has grown to love the way Jeongguk falls apart when he's telling a joke.

"What is it?"

"Bye-lingual."

Namjoon snorts beside them, and Jeongguk covers his mouth to hide his laughter. Jimin giggles, pulling the hand away and taking Jeongguk into a hug.

He doesn't even register that it's the first time he's doing this, only that hugging Jeongguk is probably his new favorite thing now.

"You're too precious for this world, Gguk. I'll see you around."

"Don't forget your book!" Namjoon rushes to hand it to him as Jimin and Taehyung swerve to the door. He waves goodbye and follows after his friend.

Taehyung's knuckles turn white as he grips the wheel on the way back home.

"Are you alright?"

"No, I am not. Did you see what Namjoon and Yoongi were doing when I arrived?"

"I didn't really pay attention—"

"He was fixing his hair. Giggling like two infatuated schoolgirls. I think that's gross. Not every couple has to be like that. What about the people having to watch them? Take me and Woo for example. We don't do that, ever."

Jimin doesn't want to discuss Yoongi and Namjoon or Taehyung and Woosik. What he really wants to do is gush about how comfy Jeongguk looked in his big hoodie and how quirky his toe-socks are. How pretty his round nose is.

But he also wants to keep existing to be able to witness all those things. And that means steering Taehyung and Yoongi toward their happy ending.

Although perhaps he's feeling a bit too bitter about being a side character to deliver his concern smoothly.

"All I hear is denial. You just wish you were in Namjoon's position and you're using Woosik while you can't."

"What did you just say?"

Taehyung slams the brakes and Jimin's head is launched straight onto the dashboard. He reels back after the stop, clutching his head. His heart is beating madly out of control, his eyes welling up with tears.

"Ouch."

Taehyung's on him in a second.

"I'm sorry. Oh God, Minnie, I'm so, so sorry. I shouldn't have done this, I can't imagine what you, I'm sorry. Will you forgive me?"

His best friend frets over him, worrying way more than the small injury on his forehead is worth. Jimin accepts the kisses to his head but pushes Taehyung's hands away after a while.

"Calm down, Tae. It wasn't a big deal."

"No, we need to talk about it. Lemme park, we're in the middle of the street."

Once they park, Taehyung takes off his seatbelt and turns to Jimin, taking his hands.

"Minnie, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"I said it's okay, can't we just go home?"

"No," Taehyung shakes his head. He's tearing up and Jimin can't fathom why. "I should've been more careful. My reaction was exaggerated, especially when you were saying nothing but the truth."

"Oh."

Taehyung's face scrunches up, eyes reddening; he blinks profusely, facing the roof of the car. Jimin leans over the console and hugs him, giving light pats on his back. His voice muffles against Jimin's chest.

"Shit, I still love Yoongi. I love him. I couldn't stand the way he kept blowing me off so I got back with Woo, but now he's dating Namjoon and I don't know what to do anymore. It hurts just as much as before."

"I'm sorry, Tae. I wish Yoongi hyung would see what an amazing piece of ass you are."

"A hot piece of ass, you mean."

"Yeah, that."

"And that's not even the worst of it. I keep hoping Woo was Yoongi and I even moaned his name the other day—"

"TMI."

"...and had to come up with a ridiculous excuse for it."

Jimin pulls away, perusing his friend's tear-stained face. "I'm not gonna lie. This is bad."

"I know."

"Really bad."

Taehyung sighs.

"I have to break up with him, don't I?"

Is it wrong of Jimin to feel relief?

"Yeah. I think you do."

One week later, Taehyung breaks up with Woosik and Jimin finishes the book and sets up a meeting with Jeongguk to discuss it. He tells no one, but he calls it a date.

"It kind of sounds like one, doesn't it?"

He's going out the moment Taehyung walks in, looking tired but relaxed. He checks Jimin's outfit—high combat boots, tight jeans, a fluffy sweater hanging loosely off his shoulder, and a beret—and raises an eyebrow.

"Where are you going?"

"To meet Jeongguk," he says. He's glad Taehyung is home; they picked a dainty place close to the apartment in the hopes Jimin wouldn't get sucked into the void halfway through.

He has a feeling he won't, though. Not with Jeongguk around.

"Where are you coming from?"

"Woosik's. I just broke up with him."

"Oh. How did it go?"

"Fine, actually. He anticipated it, in fact."

"Wow, I—"

"So much so, he already had someone warming up his bed when I got there. Can you believe it?"

"Shit, Tae, I'm sorry."

Taehyung shrugs. "I don't care. I really don't care. Woosik was no Yoongi."

"I think the two of you will be alright. Just give it time."

"Woosik was shitty, though. So shitty."

"I don't wanna say I told you so, but I did."

"Argh, go away," Jimin smiles and blows a kiss in his direction. Just as he's crossing the threshold, Taehyung amends, "Go meet your boyfriend," making Jimin trip on his way out.

"He's not my boyfriend!"

"Yet," Taehyung grins and shuts the door between them.

"I think the idea of a possessed car that sets out to kill people is wicked. And I know King didn't come up with it himself and he was inspired by the Golden Eagle, but still. Wicked."

"I mean, it's a horror book, what did you expect?" Jimin asks.

"Horror."

"To me, what really sticks out is how he always takes something mundane and gives it a little twist that makes it terrifying. Just think about his debut novel, Carrie. It's bullying plus her first period, but suddenly it becomes a rain of blood and mass murder just because she’s telekinetic. He's always suggesting we're only one supernatural thing away from things getting really, really fucked up."

Jeongguk takes a sip of his butterfly pea latte, licks the foam off his lips, and places the cup back on the table.

"Does it not creep you out?"

"I mean, yeah, it works with everything. If you take it to the last consequences, if you extrapolate, the entire world is just a tragedy waiting to happen."

"Aigoo," Jeongguk says, rubbing his chest. "That’s upsetting."

"Sorry."

"I meant the idea of Christine itself. Doesn’t it creep you out?"

"Yeah. But isn't that the whole point?"

Jimin strokes the spine of the book on the table. It's funny that Jeongguk asks him this because ever since he remembered he's passionate about books, other memories have resurfaced.

They're mainly book-related. Jimin reads fast, he reads a lot, and yet he remembers every book he ever read. Horror is just another genre, one that he appreciates for the thrill.

But Christine was a hard read. He kept pausing, feeling too restless to continue. It took him the entire week to go through the five hundred pages. Perhaps he no longer is the same person he remembers.

"I guess so."

Jimin smiles. "So you like horror books. And dad jokes."

"That I do."

"I like the former and hearing the latter," Jimin says, propping his head in his palms on the table. "Tell me a joke."

Jeongguk smiles, already blushing. It's like the mere idea of telling a joke makes him embarrassed, and it's adorable. Jimin wants to bite him.

"I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"I can't come up with a joke on the spot!"

"You suck."

"And swallow."

He gasps, caught off guard. "That was vile! You little—"

Jimin raises his arm and makes to fake-punch Jeongguk, but the other catches his wrist mid-air. They pretend to struggle for a few moments, both knowing deep down it's all a ruse not to let go of each other.

This really is a date, isn't it?

"I really hope it is."

"What?"

"A date."

Jeongguk lets go and Jimin clasps his hands over his mouth. He can't believe he said that out loud. His eyes scrunched shut the moment he uttered those words, and now they open, painfully slow.

Jeongguk is scratching his nape, his left ear, his nape, his ear. There's a timid smile on his lips.

"I'm okay with this being a date. I mean, if you are, too."

"I'm more than okay." Jimin's voice is muffled.

"What?"

He lets his hands drop. "It's more than okay."

Jeongguk takes another sip of his latte while Jimin pops a sugar cookie into his mouth and drinks the last dregs of coffee in his cup. He likes it black, even though it makes him jittery.

Jimin shudders. "Argh, I told you I have anxiety!"

"Huh?"

"The author is being a nuisance again."

"Ah, right. The author. Have you figured out your backstory yet?"

"Not yet, they haven—"

Someone barges into their table, rattling the pottery. The man is in his twenties, in slacks and a dressy white shirt, his black hair slicked back and eyes wide, laughing with his group of friends. He turns to apologize, the smile gradually slipping from his lips.

It's curious because he sort of looks like—

"Jeongguk?"

Jeongguk is rigid, eyes unblinking. Jimin becomes aware of a coil in his gut, twisting at the sight of Jeongguk’s discomfort.

"Junghyun."

"Wow, what a surprise! Do you live nearby? I don't but Chaewon does. Do you come here often? Do you like it here? If you do, I would love to meet you here one day."

"No, not often. Can't you see I'm busy?"

Despite losing the smile, Junghyun had a bubbly attitude when talking to Jeongguk. That too went away after the reply, his eyes flickering to Jimin and back to Jeongguk.

"I see that, yes. Won't you introduce your brother, Ggukie?"

He sighs, deeply. "This is Jimin. Jimin, this is Junghyun."

"His brother."

Junghyun extends his hand and Jimin shakes it, trying to hide his surprise. "Nice to meet you."

"Same here," the brother replies, turning to Jeongguk again. "I can't really stay for long, my friends are waiting for me, but—pick up the phone next time I call you, okay? I think we need to talk."

"Sure."

"That's right. See you!"

Junghyun pats Jeongguk's shoulder and then walks away, sitting a few tables down from them. Jimin peruses Jeongguk, taking in the tense line of his shoulders, his low head, and red ears.

"Gguk—"

"Shit. Can we get out of here?"

"Sure."

They're in the elevator to Jimin’s apartment, hands clasped together, when Jeongguk finally speaks.

"Junghyun left when I was thirteen. Uncle… our parents enabled my uncle on me. They did nothing. Junghyun was probably his first victim. He knew how awful it was. And yet he left me there. I don't blame him for leaving, I wanted to leave too. But I can't forgive him for not taking me with him."

Jimin's jaw drops. He's appalled. Everything makes sense now, in the most horrifying way.

He glides his hands around Jeongguk and pulls him into a tight embrace. The younger tucks his head against the nook of Jimin's neck, and they stay like that for a while, Jeongguk's hand clutching Jimin's jacket, the elevator door opening and closing after.

"I'm so sorry, Gguk."

He nods. The coil winds up in Jimin’s gut, making him uneasy. Jimin wonders why pain strikes the people we like the most. Especially people who don't deserve it like shy, quirky, lovely Jeongguk.

He pulls away after a while.

"We should go in now."

Jimin agrees and they exit the elevator, entering the apartment in silence. Jimin is absent-minded enough that he doesn't notice the little noises rippling through the quiet—not until he steps into the living room and Jeongguk takes in a sharp breath.

Taehyung's head pops up from the couch and in the next second, he tumbles to the ground. Yoongi leans up on his elbows, hair tousled and face flushed. He sees Jimin and Jungkook standing at the entrance, the color draining from his face. He cards a hand through his hair, attempting to tame it.

Jimin walks into the room and around the couch, Jeongguk following him like a shadow. Taehyung recovers from the floor, propping a deceivingly carefree elbow on the couch seat and leaning his head on his palm.

"Hey."

"Were you guys making out just now?"

"Well, we—"

"Yes," Yoongi replies.

Jimin lets out an incredulous laugh, claps his hands once. "Finally! Oh my, I can't believe you guys finally got your shit together."

"Well, Tae told me he was single again, so I told him that Namjoon and I were never together. Ever since he started dating, I told myself I wouldn't let him go without trying ever again. Last time I thought you guys were together—"

Taehyung's head whips to him. "Wait, us?"

"Me and Tae? That's silly!"

Yoongi shrugs. "It's what I thought. This time I told myself that I would confess no matter what. I didn't think it would work out, though."

Taehyung takes Yoongi’s hand. "I'm happy you told me how you feel."

As the new couple falls into whispering sweet nothings to each other, Jimin takes in the mess they made. "Gosh, you guys messed up the couch! The throw covers—” he yanks the heavy blanket, revealing a dark patch on the backrest. “Since when there’s this huge stain?”

“It’s spilled coffee,” Taehyung provides.

“Did you do it?” Jimin asks.

“No.”

“Ay, ay, it doesn’t matter," Yoongi says. "How did the date go? You guys are back early.”

“My brother showed up. We’re not on good terms, so we left.”

“Huh,” Taehyung exclaims. “What a coincidence that you’re both estranged from your brothers.”

The coil in his stomach tightens, making him dizzy. Both of them?

Jimin knew that already but, given the depth of Jeongguk’s rift with his brother, he has a foreboding feeling regarding the distance between him and Jihoon.

He’s not so sure he wants to have a backstory anymore.

Jimin stumbles back, bumping into the side table. The letters on top scatter on the floor, and he squats to gather them up. He reads the name on them, heartbeat picking up and breaths growing short.

"To: Park Jimin," one reads.

And the other one. "To Park Jimin" as well.

Park Jimin, Park Jimin, Park Jimin. All of them.

"From: Park Jihoon." Flagged urgent.

The corners of the room start fading. His knees wobble. Why is the void pulling him in again?

“Jimin-ah—”

He tears the envelope open, seeing the logo from a renowned Seoul law firm on top.

“What is this…?”

His vision blurs as he tries to read the fine print. Jimin faints before he can understand what he saw.

Jimin strides with purpose, coming to an abrupt halt in the literal middle of nowhere. He looks furious, his features scrunching up and his lips downturned.

“Yes, I am furious! What do you think you’re doing, huh? I asked you to give me a backstory, and this is what you do?”

The void doesn’t seem as boundless as before. Jimin’s cries echo back to his ears, louder than last time. He shivers, suddenly out of depth. Jimin hugs himself.

“What is going on?”

It’s like he’s coming up with a fever. He’s still completely unaware that he is, indeed, sick.

“I am sick?” he squeaks. “What am I coming up with? Why do I have to be sick? Isn’t it usually the main character who becomes sick so the second lead can help them out or something?”

The truth is right before Jimin, but he’s still too blind to see it.

“What do you mean?”

It’s right in front of him. He has literally said it himself before.

“I have?”

Moments ago. Perhaps a bad memory is what separates the main character from a side character, after all.

“This is scary.”

He’s shivering. Relaying his emotions out loud, not shying away from them. It’s better if Jimin watches out for his parents. They could show up dead all of a sudden.

“What? Why?”

Trauma edifies character.

“What? This is bullshit! I don’t need to be complex, I just need to aid Taehyung! That complexity is something that only—oh,” he says. Is he slowly starting to realize? “Am I… am I coming up… with main character symptoms?”

He counts them back in his head, all the symptoms that main characters usually have. Self-centeredness. Side characters revolving around them. A quirky but relatable personality. A troubled past. Dead parents.

“No…”

Abusive parents?

“No…”

Well, at least a bad relationship with at least one family member. Ideally, one or both parents. If not that, a sibling. Perhaps Jimin has a brother who wants to beat him into a pulp.

“No,” he mumbles. “Not my brother.”

The void seems to shrink even more around him. He still can’t see the walls, everything still looks like one sole black multitude. But he senses the limits closing in; now they’re tangible and Jimin could reach them if he tried.

Jimin didn’t know, when he asked to have the features of a main character, that it would lead him to this point. He didn’t know there would be consequences. He had been short-sighted, with ample room for an arc that would make him a master of the reality around him.

“No… this is too much! Please, stop!”

Perhaps he has been the main character all along.

“No!” he screams. His vision swims, and he repeats his plea, but much less enthusiastically. “No… I can’t do this.”

Jimin hopes he doesn’t fall sick for good. But leading a story is a trait that no character ever walks back from.

The first thing he hears upon his regress makes Jimin’s world tilt on its axis.

“You have dissociative amnesia, Jimin. It’s a reaction that can happen after a traumatic incident. You forgot parts of your life and created a new reality to explain who you are. It wears off after some time, usually. You’ve been like this for three months.”

He’s no longer a character if he’s ever been one. Was the void ever real?

His vision focuses on the face in front of him, trying to help him make sense of the memories whirring inside his brain, toppling over one another.

“Jihoon?”

His brother smiles, but it’s sad.

“You said you remembered our parents. What else do you remember?”

“I’m a Literature Major. I spilled coffee on the couch.”

“Good. That’s good. What else?”

He sees his room for what it is now. All the details that went by unnoticed, swept and forgotten into the whorls of the void, resurface before his very eyes. His black iron double bed with the grid headboard woven with fairy lights, the cotton sheets with black cat patterns, the iridescent lava lamp on the side table by a stack of books, a charger, and a bottle of pills.

It’s like he sees the sand tiles for the first time, the mold stain in the corner of the ceiling, the layer of dust over his books on his dresser.

Jimin has so many books, haphazardly placed all over his room. He has a footrest under his desk and a book support amidst a collection of stationery. He has photos of him, Yoongi, Taehyung, and Hoseok in little clips on the wall. He has pictures of him and Jihoon, of him and his parents, of all of them together too.

There are several canvases stacked on a chair. One of them has a trail of blue ink down the side of it, and Jimin remembers what he painted that day: a car wreck under the rain. He knows for a fact that they’re all the same, a repetition of what he saw, his mind screaming to let out what he so vehemently repressed.

“The accident. I remember there was an accident.”

“Yes, there was an accident.”

“Our parents. They’re gone?”

“Unfortunately.”

He doesn’t feel anything. Not because he doesn’t lament the loss, but perhaps his body is still catching up on allowing those feelings in.

“Oh, God.”

“You went to their funeral. Even before you left, you were already telling people about a different life you never had. We took you to a doctor and you got diagnosed. We tried an analyst, but you had a breakdown every time you remembered something. So Taehyung hyung took you to art therapy, and we let you live your reality until you remembered things on your own.”

Jimin spaces out, only catching parts of what his brother says.

“Wait. They know?”

“Yes. Yoongi, Taehyung, Hoseok. Jeongguk also knows.”

“Jeongguk? ”

“They said they told him after you passed out on campus.”

Jimin remembers that day. He fell into the void after finding out that Jeongguk had a past. In retrospect, it seems funny that his brain created a persona to forget what happened while feeling desperately incomplete and demanding a backstory.

Jeongguk must have simply gone along with whatever Jimin said ever since. But what about before that? Hadn't Jeongguk introduced himself as a side character?

Could Jimin even trust his memories from back then?

“I remember that. Will I keep… having those breakdowns?“

“Only time will tell. And a doctor. We should make an appointment.”

“I don't know where to start.”

“Don't worry, you have a designated psychiatrist already. I’ll give him a call.”

Jimin’s chest tightens. “Thanks for taking care of me, Jihoon-ah. Hyung is sorry that you had to take it all upon yourself.”

“I’m just glad you’re back, hyung.”

“I’m—” he takes a deep breath. “I don’t know yet if I’m glad to be back. But I’m happy to have you. You grew up well, hm?”

“I missed you.”

Jimin opens his arms. “Please, give me a hug.”

Jihoon leans in and holds him, the two of them tumbling onto the mattress. They remain like that for the next few minutes as Jihoon fills him in further on the succession—the law firm, the inventory, their aunts and uncles who showed up out of nowhere after their parents passed away.

“You’re the oldest, hyung. We’ve been waiting for you.”

The weight of loss settles on his shoulders little by little, and then all at once.

Taehyung knocks on his door, followed by Yoongi, and then Jeongguk. Jeongguk, who already had a lot on his plate but accepted the truth about Jimin without hesitation. Jeongguk, who stayed on the day he fainted, and today as well. Jeongguk, who lingers by the door as if afraid to step in.

After his brother leaves, Jimin wants him to step closer and stay one more time. He’s still not completely over using fugue as a method to avoid reality.

“Will you hold me to sleep?”

“You want me to stay over?”

“If you’re okay with that. I’d love you to.”

Jeongguk nods, high cheekbones properly tinted red. He borrows sweatpants and a shirt from Taehyung. Jimin likes how the toothbrush he takes from the cupboard stands beside his on the vanity.

He loves the way Jeongguk slides under the covers and around his waist, plastering to his back from head to toe, his breath hot on Jimin’s nape.

They can talk about what happened tomorrow.

“Goodnight, Gguk.”

“Sleep well, hyung.”

During the time Jimin was ten feet deep into himself, he hardly ever took notice of his appearance unless it was to look “edgy” and different from his other, dormant self.

Reacquainting himself with his reflection is an uncanny experience. He doesn’t know why he’s in the bathroom hiding from Jeongguk, but he is. Perhaps he’s afraid of having another breakdown and scaring him away after he’s already put up with so much.

All Jimin knows is that his hair is auburn, his skin pale, and his eyes red from crying.

There’s a knock on the door. “Jimin hyung? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah! Don’t worry.”

Jimin wipes the tear tracks, combs his hair with his hands until it looks passable. No sound comes from his room for a solid minute.

“Do you want me to leave?”

“What? No…” he opens the door, almost running into Jeongguk. “Why, do you want to leave?”

“I was wondering if you wanted me to. Wait, have you been crying?”

“No, I don’t, yes.”

“You want me to go?”

“No!” Jimin exclaims, feeling frustrated. “Yes, I’ve been crying.”

Jeongguk doesn’t say anything. He takes Jimin by the hand and leads him to the bed, sitting them on the mattress and enveloping them with the covers. It’s soothing in a way Jimin craved but didn’t know he needed, and it only makes him want to cry again.

“We can just keep quiet if you want. Or we can talk about it. Whatever you feel more comfortable with.”

Jimin is tempted to take Jeongguk on his offer to be silent, but the words tumble out of his mouth before he can stop them.

“I was looking in the mirror when it happened because I remembered… my nose is my mother’s. My eyes are hers as well, but my mouth is a mix of them both. I have my mom’s temper but my dad’s love for books. He was a critic, you know?”

“That’s so cool.”

“Yeah. I used to think so too as a kid. We had a huge library at home. My dad would let me walk in and pick any book and he would read it to me and Jihoon. We discussed it after, always, and for hours.”

“That explains things.”

“I really liked when we did that with Christine,” Jimin says, then rolls his eyes. He can feel his heartbeat start to go off the rails. “Fuck.”

“What is it?”

“That fucking cursed car! Dad loved to walk to places. If not for me and Jihoon being born and my mother’s prodding, we wouldn’t have a car. It’s fucking ironic that they died in an accident. Oh my god,” Jimin quavers.

He pushes the heels of his hands into his eyes in a futile attempt to stop the tears. Jeongguk hushes him, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him closer right in time for the first sob to break out of Jimin’s ribcage.

His parents’ deaths catch up with him all at once.

“I wasn’t ready for them to go. Why did they have to go like that? Why, why?”

Jimin wails, not holding back. Jeongguk absorbs everything, rubs his back as Jimin clings to him. He reads and holds him like a beloved book as Jimin pours his contents, word for word, tear for tear, on his shoulder, splotching his shirt.

It takes him a while to calm down. When he does, grief shares the space in his chest with shame for losing control in front of Jeongguk like that. Jimin wants to hide in a hole, but he burrows even further against Jeongguk instead.

“I’m sorry. I’m just so overwhelmed and I let it all out on you. I don’t want you to leave, but I understand if you do because, gosh, this is so embarrassing. I’m sorry. I’m all over the place, ain’t I? The whole situation with me being a fucking nutjob is already hard to swallow—”

“Hey, hey, don’t talk like that about yourself. I don’t think you're crazy, or that it’s difficult to be around you. Remember that I’ve known about everything for some time already, hm?”

“I’m surprised you didn’t run to the hills.”

“I would never. I was afraid you would kick me out.”

"Why would I do that?"

"I don't know. You might wake up and realize that I'm not as interesting now that I'm no longer a mysterious side character," he chuckles.

Jimin feels reassured enough by Jeongguk that he pulls back to look at him, becoming relieved at the smile he gets. Jeongguk dries his tears and Jimin closes his eyes, basking in the feel of the long fingers rubbing his cheeks.

“In poker, do you know what you get when you have a straight flush of hearts?”

Jimin’s eyes flutter open.

“No, what is it?”

“A royal crush.”

The sudden change gives him whiplash and warms him all the same. Jimin tries to hold the laughter in but it bursts out of him, his face growing hot. He rocks forward with it, touching Jeongguk’s shoulder and staying tucked against his neck.

"Oh. I think I have a royal crush on you, too."

“That’s great news.”

"Doesn’t that leave us at an impasse? Neither of us can win if we have the same cards."

"Or we both win."

He pushes away, gaze flickering southerly of Jimin’s eyes. Jeongguk’s cupid’s bow is gracious, matching his plump bottom lip and the mole under it. When their stares meet again, Jeongguk’s look is knowing.

He approaches and pecks Jimin's lips. A hand cradles his cheek and pulls him in, kissing him softly, the touch warm and intimate. Jimin's nose jostles Jeongguk's glasses and he puts them aside, turning his full attention to Jeongguk's mouth on him.

Jeongguk feels like spring sun rays on his skin. He tastes like hot chocolate with sprinkled pepper, and Jimin can't get enough.

He slots their lips together, taking in more with painstaking attention, committing the feel and the taste to memory while wanting it to never end so he never has to remember and gets to kiss Jeongguk for a long time.

He brings his hands around his neck and revels in the squeeze to his waist, nibbling Jeongguk’s lip and pulling it with his teeth. The muscle slaps back over his gums with a satisfying flap, and Jimin pulls it once more into his mouth, sucking on it.

“Hey, are you, uh—damn, I thought you guys would be hungry, but never mind.”

They part with a smack and Jimin turns to watch Taehyung’s back disappear into the corridor. Jeongguk’s hands vanish from around him, and he coos at the sight of him covering his ears like when they met for the first time.

“Do you wanna stay for breakfast?”

“I’m not sure whether I wanna eat or flee the country.”

Jimin laughs, delighted. “Don’t be silly. They were going to see us sooner or later.”

“It happened too soon, though.”

“What do you wanna eat? I’ll do it.”

“Actually, can I make pancakes? I’ll leave the biggest one for you.”

His eyes are so wide and bright, his countenance earnest. Jimin can’t nor does he want to stop himself from kissing Jeongguk again.

“Sure thing. I would love that.”

Jimin is in love.

It still catches him off guard at times. Jeongguk tucks his legs closer to his chest, wets his finger before turning a page. Jimin melts behind the desk.

And yet, none of that causes disgust. Not the feelings. Not even the fact that touching a book with saliva is probably unsanitary.

“Oh, shut up.”

"Are you talking to the author again?"

"It's more like my inner monologue? My consciousness. It won't shut up. The author and it sound the same."

"Huh." Jeongguk adjusts the glasses on his nose and makes himself comfortable in the ottoman in Jimin's parents' library. "That's interesting. You should write that down."

"Like a diary?"

"Like a book. It could be a diary-book. Yeah."

Jimin scoffs, turning back to his assignment about Chunhyangga.

"No one would read that."

"I would."

"That's because you're a dear, honey."

He knows he made a mistake the moment the words leave his mouth.

“Jeongguk, don’t—”

"I just love bee-ing with you."

Jimin groans, dropping his pen and slumping back on his chair. He stares at the ceiling, trying to fight off a smile to no avail.

"Will I have to endure this forever?"

Jeongguk gets up and walks to him, leaning over Jimin with his palms propped on the back of his chair.

"I'll give you a reprieve from my pretty face. I'm gonna pick a snack. Do you want some coffee?"

"I would love some. This is grueling."

Jeongguk smiles and kisses him.

"Great. Wait here then. I'll think of another joke while I’m away."

He pushes away and leaves, and Jimin follows him out the door with his eyes.

"Argh. I love that man."

He takes a break, lying on the ottoman to relax. If he closes his eyes, Jimin can almost pretend that nothing ever happened and his father will walk in through the doors of their home library at any moment.

He puts a halt to that line of thought, though. It's been two years. It's not good to dwell on the past unless it informs the future. Jimin knows who he is, gladly. And he has a good idea of where he wants to go.

Something crashes in the kitchen and Jeongguk yelps.

Jimin chuckles. Yes, he knows where to go.