Chapter Text
There were many things Taehyung preferred to forget for his own good. For the sake of his peace of mind and, above all, to avoid the cringe that certain choices he’d made at some point in his life brought him during the day and even worse, at night, when his brain seemed dead-set on replaying every single moment he’d wished the earth would swallow him whole, as if it were a mandatory lecture. Most things he managed to forget successfully. With others, even when he didn't, he could simply pretend they’d never happened and gaslight himself enough to pass them off as a dream or some figment of his imagination.
However there was this one thing that, no matter how hard he tried to forget with all his might, with his entire being, wouldn't go away.
And deep down, he knew why.
Seokjin, his older brother, always said he admired Taehyung’s mind. The way the younger was able to remember moments and details that others easily overlooked, while conveniently forgetting situations that seemed far more important to anyone else. And that was precisely the point.
No matter how much he wanted to deny and bury it in the deepest corners of his mind, he knew that if that one detail driving him slowly insane was still as present as day one, it was simply because it wasn’t in his will, his mind, or his heart to let it go... and that made him feel terrible.
Because how could anyone feel okay with themselves in his shoes?
The dark circles under his eyes had gotten worse lately, and the dark roots of his natural hair color were starting to show.
But that’s just how a broken heart worked so what could he do?
Other than, deep down, hoping the person he was in love with would take the time, even for just a second to look at him the way he looked at them.
There were plenty of things Taehyung could forget at will and convenience. Plenty of things he could ignore until they stopped mattering, until he no longer needed to stress over them.
Taehyung managed to do it all the time.
Until he met Min Yoongi.
No.
Taehyung could forget things at will and convenience with an almost enviable ease. He could ignore others until they stopped mattering, until he no longer needed to stress over them and he did it with a knack that felt like a superpower.
He pulled it off succesfully.
Until Park Jimin met Min Yoongi.
And ever since then, it didn't matter how hard he tried. It didn't matter how much he avoided looking Yoongi in the eye, how much he tried to change the subject whenever his best friend talked about him, or how much he convinced himself that, eventually, it would all fade away on its own. There was no universe in which Taehyung could ever get over Min Yoongi.
There was no way in hell Taehyung, Jimin’s best friend, was ever going to get over his crush on Yoongi, Jimin’s boyfriend.
The brunette had set up an entire moral court inside his head.
He was the defendant, the judge, and the jury. And even though he always used the exact same argument when stepping into his role as defense attorney, the verdict always turned out to be the exact same.
Guilty.
Always guilty.
In his defense, Taehyung had known Yoongi way longer. They had been friends before Jimin and Yoongi ever met.
Or, at least, they had started out that way thanks to Jieun, his friend from art class. She had been the bridge between the two of them during those first few months, dragging them into conversations, lunches, and hangouts neither of them would have ever attended on their own initiative. Over time, though, Taehyung and Yoongi had found a friendship of their own—one of those that didn't take much effort to exist.
They weren't inseparable. They’d never needed to be.
But they were close.
Close enough for Yoongi to know that Taehyung hated coffee served way too hot, and for Taehyung to recognize—by the way the older guy crinkled his nose—when he was genuinely pissed off versus just tired, close enough for Taehyung to have learned how to love him.
And that was precisely the problem.
Taehyung had fallen for Yoongi before Jimin and Yoongi even started dating. And by the time Yoongi and Jimin shared their first "I love you," Taehyung had definitely already experienced his first heartbreak over that love.
The problem nobody seemed to realize about Taehyung’s mind and its quirky memory was that, even when he tried to forget certain things, others stayed permanently branded onto it.
Like a tattoo.
One so deep it couldn't be removed unless someone surgically tore the skin right off.
Taehyung remembered with an almost alarming precision how many days it had taken him to reach the decision he’d just made.
It had been exactly 108 days since his life had changed...Well, 108 since he’d started wondering if it would be okay to actually do what he’d already decided on.
But if he was being honest, he knew he should start counting from the morning after the day everything had truly changed.
In that case, it had been 227 days.
Thirty-two weeks of his year.
Yeah.
Taehyung remembered it all too well.
In his defense, he felt—or rather, knew—that it was all his fault.
He could’ve just told his best friend.
He could have done it right from the start.
Instead, he’d kept it locked away like a state secret.
That tiny detail of his life had him constantly checking his phone, wishing Tuesdays and Wednesdays would hurry up and arrive. It had turned him into a guy who counted the days. It was the first time since he’d known Jimin that he’d kept a secret for this long, in fact he couldn't even remember ever having to hide something this big from him.
But there wasn't much left to do and it didn't really matter anymore because today, everything was going to change.
Hoseok, his brother's boyfriend, had told him a million times: counting days was pointless. He just needed to act.
But it wasn't that simple. Especially when Hoseok had no clue what they were even talking about specifically.
The brunette stood up in front of the mirror and checked himself out from head to toe.
He smiled, convinced that his fit was, without a doubt, a great decision.
A great decision.
He grabbed his black coat, draped it over his shoulders, and gave himself one last look in the mirror.
"You look really good in those kind of coats, Taehyungie."
The words echoed in his head.
He nodded, more and more convinced by his choice.
He took a deep breath and turned toward the couch to grab his bag. Slinging it over his shoulder, he wrapped the scarf his brother had bought him for his last birthday around his neck as he walked toward his apartment door.
Even though it was mid-November, the chill seemed to cut right through his layers of clothing without a problem. He hunched his shoulders slightly, trying to pull his blue scarf up past his lips.
He’d decided to walk to the gallery.
Listening to music the whole way was way better than spending twenty minutes waiting for public transit with way too much time to overthink everything that could go wrong today. Walking, on the other hand, let him get distracted by the constant buzz of Seoul.
By the time he stepped across the threshold of the place he’d grown way too familiar with, his eyes instantly locked onto the circle of people standing right in the middle of the first room.
"Taehyungie! So glad you made it!"
Seulgi’s voice echoed through the hall, making everyone turn around to look at him.
"Tae, you're finally here."
Jieun walked over to him with a smile Taehyung mirrored, even though it was obvious it could barely be seen behind the thick fabric covering half his face.
"Good afternoon," he greeted in a cheerful tone.
His other classmates hanging out in the gallery smiled at him too.
"We were just waiting for you to show up so we can go over the final rundown," commented Seulgi, the gallery owner and professor of the art class that had brought Taehyung so much joy over the past few months. "Thanks to getting everything prepped last night, you guys can relax a bit now. But I need you to double-check the pieces you hung up and their labels one last time, just in case."
"Noona, is that option to not stand right next to our artwork still on the table?" asked Soobin, the youngest of the bunch, with a stressed-out look on his face.
Taehyung finally pulled his scarf down from his face and took a couple of steps toward him.
They’d grown really close thanks to their personalities. Even though the taller guy was way more introverted than Taehyung, they clicked like two gears made to fit together.
Deep down, Taehyung knew part of it was also because he was just thrilled not to be the youngest in the group for once in a long time.
There were plenty of guys younger than him in that class, but Soobin was a total sweetheart, and Taehyung had made it his personal mission to be the best hyung ever.
"Binnie, it’s still an option, but keep in mind you’ll have to stand by your paintings at some point."
Seulgi flashed him a smile.
"I know you're all nervous, but remember this is by you and for you. Nobody walking through these doors today knows or understands the art in these rooms better than you do."
Taehyung smiled, feeling a wave of peace he hadn't experienced since the night before when he’d left this very gallery. He gave Soobin a playful nudge with his elbow. The younger guy smiled back.
"Everything’s gonna be fine, Soobin. If you want, we can just hide together in the crowd."
The younger nodded, grinning.
"Did anyone ever tell you that you're the best, hyung?"
Taehyung felt his chest puff up with pride.
"Not enough times, but I won't hold it against you," he teased, keeping his voice low because Seulgi was still giving instructions.
Jieun, who had been way too quiet during the last hour of last-minute touch-ups, was watching him from the corner, her eyes locked right on him.
More than enough for the brunette to notice.
Of course he noticed.
But Taehyung was actively trying to practice selective attention.
When the black-haired girl started walking toward him, he knew it was game over, and he couldn't help biting his lower lip nervously.
"Taehyungie..."
Her voice, calm as always, made Jihoon, Hyungsook, and Jihye turn around, interrupting whatever the four of them had been talking about.
The brunette slowly lifted his gaze and looked at his friend, faking a smile.
"We're about to start," he chimed in innocently, as if he were dropping brand-new information.
"I know, Ji."
The taller guy walked right up to her, noticing how the others went back to their chat once they realized Jieun had zero intention of joining them.
"Mmh... then why haven't you even glanced at your own exhibition yet?"
Taehyung let out a tiny huff and scrunched up his nose.
"I was helping Soo—"
"That is a lie. That was at least forty minutes ago."
Jieun lowered her voice.
"Taehyung, did you regret doing this?"
She took another step closer. This time, her tone lost its total tranquility, and a hint of worry slipped through.
"N-no. It's not that."
He knew his noona wouldn't just drop it with that answer, so he took a breath before trying to figure out what to say.
Jieun was patient. She watched him closely, but without applying that heavy pressure anyone else would've expected while waiting for an answer.
Taehyung didn't doubt his own skills.
Even though he had no plans to make art his career, he’d been sharpening his techniques since he was fifteen. This wasn't his first time exhibiting his work, either. He remembered doing it a couple of times back in high school.
But the paintings hanging on the two walls Seulgi had assigned him for this project were different.
More meaningful.
This time, they weren't abstract paintings or the landscapes from his dreams—the kind where he walked down paths surrounded by trees.
This time, he’d used the people in his everyday life to capture them on canvas. Every single stroke had been executed with a calm and a confidence anyone watching the process would've called enviable.. But the truth was a little different.
For the first time in years, he felt like his work looked a bit stiff.
Sure, he didn't regret deciding to show it.
But that didn't mean he was a hundred percent happy with how it turned out.
Especially because, even though the faces on the canvases weren't clear enough to outright give away who they were, they were still loaded with the deepest feelings he carried for those exact people, translated into silhouettes.
There was way too much of him in those paintings.
And that was what terrified him.
"What if they think it's not as good as the others?" he finally blurted out. "My brother and his boyfriend, Jimin... everyone’s coming to see this. And they haven't seen my paintings in forever. What if I'm not up to their standards?"
Jieun stayed silent.
She just stood there, thoughtful, expressionless as always. Taehyung had learned how to read her. He was used to those expressions not meaning she didn't know what to say.
Quite the opposite, actually.
Jieun had an idea, she was just trying to figure out how to phrase it.
"I don't think you will."
That was all she said before turning around and heading toward the room where their exhibitions shared space.
Taehyung stood frozen for a second.
He blinked slowly, trying to process his friend's words.
Then he furrowed his brows and followed her.
"Noona! You're supposed to give me a pep talk, not validate my worst fear," he complained, letting the pout that always appeared when he didn't get his way take over his face.
Jieun had to fight back the smile threatening to break across her lips.
"Being your friend allows me—and requires me—to be honest with you. And I don't think you're going to live up to what's expected of you."
"Noona!"
"Taetae, you won't live up to what they expect, but not because your paintings aren't good enough."
She stopped dead in front of one of the canvases.
"You won't live up to their expectations because you're the one not seeing this for what it's actually worth."
"Bu—"
"You're the one who told me that when you guys were teens, Jimin used to buy you stuff you both liked for Christmas, but the second he found out about your passion for art, he started getting you things exclusively for that. Same with your brother."
She paused for a second.
"They aren't coming here to judge your work, you dummy. They're coming to see you."
Taehyung opened his mouth, but she cut him off again.
"They want to know if you're happy. For God's sake, Taehyungie. Your brother is a med student. Do you honestly think he's an art connoisseur?"
"When you put it like that..."
Jieun smiled, knowing she’d won.
She took a deep breath, making her shoulders rise and fall before stepping closer to him. She placed both hands on his shoulders and, with a bit of effort, spun him around until he was facing his artwork square-on.
"I happen to think your work is sensational..."
She stepped up beside him.
"You paint with emotion. There's something special in every single canvas—"
"It's almost like he's telling us how he feels about every single person who inspired these paintings."
Seulgi’s soft voice reached them both, followed by the click-clack of her heels against the floor. Taehyung flashed her a smile, he knew his cheeks had gone slightly red at his noonas' compliments.
"There's a line outside. Just wanted to let you guys know I'm about to open the doors."
Taehyung shared a look with Jieun, they both nodded.
He wasn't ready.
He didn't feel ready.
But he could do it.
He always could.
The doors opened.
And suddenly, the gallery wasn't quiet anymore.
People began filtering through the rooms in small groups, coats brushing against one another, voices overlapping beneath the low music playing through the speakers.
Taehyung stood near his paintings at first, trying to remember how to breathe.
He smiled.
He greeted people.
He thanked them.
He answered questions.
And every few seconds, almost without realizing it, his eyes drifted toward the entrance.
Not obviously.
Never long enough for anyone to call him out on it.
Just a quick glance whenever the door opened.
A familiar face.
Someone from class.
A stranger.
No Yoongi.
He would look back at whoever was talking to him and continue as if nothing had happened.
"Are you Taehyung?"
The question came from a woman standing in front of one of his paintings.
He straightened slightly.
"Yes."
"I really like this one."
She pointed toward one of the less defined silhouettes.
Taehyung followed her finger, the painting looked different under the gallery lights than it had in his apartment. There was a vague shape in the center. A suggestion of a person without enough detail to identify them. The edges blurred into the colors around them, almost as if the silhouette had been caught in the middle of disappearing.
"Thank you."
"Is it someone you know?"
Taehyung hesitated.
His fingers instinctively curled around the edge of his coat sleeve.
"Someone important to me."
The woman smiled.
"That's sweet."
He returned the smile.
"Thank you."
As she moved on, Taehyung's eyes immediately drifted toward the entrance again.
Still nothing.
"Taetae hyung"
He turned.
Soobin was standing beside him, looking like he was trying very hard not to panic.
"What?"
"Someone asked me what my painting means and I think I accidentally explained the entire history of my family."
Taehyung stared at him.
"So?"
"So I think I overshared."
"You did."
Soobin groaned, Taehyung laughed and nudged his shoulder.
"You're doing fine, Binnie."
"You sure?"
"Absolutely."
"You don't look very convincing."
"I'm an artist. We're supposed to look mysterious."
Soobin snorted.
"You're nervous because your brother is here."
Taehyung opened his mouth to deny it.
Then his eyes wandered past Soobin's shoulder.
The entrance.
Nothing.
He looked back.
"I am not nervous."
"You're checking the door again."
Taehyung froze.
Soobin raised an eyebrow.
"I'm checking the guests."
"Sure" The younger just rolled his ayes.
"Exactly."
Soobin smiled like he didn't believe him for a second. Taehyung was saved when a couple approached them, asking about one of the paintings, he immediately turned his attention toward them.
That was the thing about people.
They were easy to focus on when they were directly in front of him.
It was when he had nothing to do that his mind betrayed him.
And his eyes.
Always his eyes.
They found the entrance again.
Eventually, Seokjin and Hoseok arrived, they came carrying a huge bouquet of flowers, although they had agreed to give it to him only after the exhibition ended because they didn't want to overwhelm him. Both of them had been beaming when they walked through the gallery.
Taehyung spotted them from across the room and, for the first time in several minutes, completely forgot about the entrance.
"Taehyungie!"
Seokjin opened his arms.
Taehyung practically threw himself into them.
"Hyung!"
Seokjin laughed as he caught him, squeezing him tightly.
"Look at you!"
"Look at me?"
"Artist Kim Taehyung."
"Please don't."
"Why? I'm proud."
Hoseok laughed beside them.
"I told you he'd embarrass you."
"You encouraged him."
"I did."
Taehyung pulled away from Seokjin and immediately hugged Hoseok too.
"Hi, hyung."
"Hi, baby artist."
"Oh, come on."
Hoseok laughed patted the back of his head before letting him go.
"We're proud of you."
Something warm spread through Taehyung's chest.
He smiled.
"Thanks."
The bouquet remained safely tucked against Hoseok's side.
"We'll give you this later," Seokjin explained. "We figured you'd probably cry if we gave it to you now."
"I would not cry."
Both men stared at him.
Taehyung sighed.
"Okay. Maybe a little."
"Exactly."
They walked farther into the room.
Taehyung tried to act casual.
He failed, his eyes wandered toward the entrance again.
Still no Yoongi.
Seokjin noticed.
"Are you waiting for someone?"
Taehyung's head snapped back.
"No."
His brother narrowed his eyes.
"Okay."
"I'm not."
"I didn't say anything."
"You were going to."
Hoseok laughed.
"Let him breathe, Jinnie"
"Fine."
They stopped in front of the first painting.
Seokjin tilted his head.
At first, he said nothing, he leaned closer.
Then farther away.
His eyes moved slowly from the shoulders of the silhouette to the hands resting at its sides.
Taehyung watched him carefully.
He knew that posture.
He knew those hands.
He'd painted them from memory.
Seokjin's brows slowly drew together.
"Hm."
Taehyung bit the inside of his cheek and Hoseok glanced at him.
"What?"
"I don't know."
Seokjin took another step closer.
His eyes moved over the painting again.
Then he looked at Taehyung then back at the canvas.
"No way."
Taehyung smiled.
"What?"
Seokjin pointed at the painting.
"Is that..."
He stopped.
His expression changed, it was subtle at first.
Recognition.
Then disbelief.
Then something softer.
"That's me."
Taehyung's smile widened.
"It took you long enough."
Seokjin stared at him.
"You painted me?"
"Obviously."
"But..."
His voice faltered and he looked at the silhouette again, studying it with a strange kind of care.
"You got my hands."
Taehyung shrugged.
"Your hands are pretty recognizable."
Seokjin laughed softly, but his eyes had already started shining.
"You even got the way I stand."
Taehyung's smile turned smaller.
"I've known you my whole life."
Seokjin looked at him again.
For a moment, neither of them said anything. Then his brother reached out and squeezed his shoulder.
"You're really good, Tae."
The simple words hit harder than Taehyung expected.
He swallowed.
"Thanks, hyung."
Hoseok had been standing beside them, quietly examining the painting.
He suddenly pointed toward another canvas.
"Wait."
Taehyung looked over. Hoseok narrowed his eyes.
"Is that me?"
Seokjin turned toward him.
Taehyung burst out laughing.
"How did you figure that out?"
"Because he looks handsome."
Seokjin deadpanned.
"That's your argument?"
"It's a good one."
Hoseok looked back at the painting.
The silhouette was less obvious than Seokjin's. The posture was relaxed, shoulders slightly forward, one hand tucked into a pocket.
Hoseok's smile slowly appeared.
"You painted me like that?"
"That's how I see you."
Something in Hoseok's expression softened.
He reached out, but stopped before touching the canvas.
"Can I hug you?"
Taehyung laughed.
"You don't need permission."
Hoseok immediately pulled him into a hug.
Taehyung buried his face against his shoulder, laughing quietly.
"Okay, okay."
"You're my favorite brother-in-law."
"I'm your only brother-in-law."
"Exactly."
Seokjin groaned.
"Can you two stop?"
"No."
Taehyung pulled away, still smiling.
For a few minutes, everything felt easy.
His family was here.
They loved his paintings.
They loved him.
Maybe Jieun really had been right.
Maybe he had been worrying about nothing.
Then the gallery doors opened again and Taehyung looked over automatically.
A group of strangers walked in.
Not Yoongi. His shoulders dropped before he could stop them.
He immediately turned back toward his brother.
Seokjin didn't seem to notice.
Hoseok did.
But he said nothing.
Instead, he pointed toward another canvas.
"Are these Mom and Dad?"
Taehyung nodded.
"Yeah."
Seokjin stood in front of their parents' silhouettes.
His expression became quieter, didn't make a joke this time.
Neither did Taehyung.
The painting was simpler than the others.
Two figures standing close together.
Not touching but close enough that the distance between them felt intentional.
"They look happy," Seokjin said quietly.
Taehyung swallowed.
"They were."
"Are."
Taehyung looked at him.
Seokjin smiled.
"They still are."
Taehyung nodded.
"Yeah."
Hoseok reached for Seokjin's hand.
Their fingers intertwined.
Taehyung smiled at them before his attention was caught by another movement across the room.
Jimin.
He had arrived.
Taehyung's eyes immediately followed him.
And then, almost instinctively, they searched the people behind him.
Yoongi.
There. His heart gave one stupid little jump.
Taehyung looked away before anyone could notice.
He didn't know why finding him made his shoulders relax.
He only knew it did.
Jimin approached with Yoongi and Jieun.
The three of them were talking about something Taehyung couldn't hear.
Jimin laughed.
Yoongi said something.
Jimin lightly bumped his shoulder against Yoongi's.
Taehyung blinked.
It was nothing. Probably.
He looked back at Seokjin.
"So?"
His brother was still studying their parents' painting.
"It's beautiful."
Taehyung smiled.
"Thank you." But his eyes wandered back again.
Yoongi was looking around the gallery.
Then his gaze landed on Taehyung.
A small smile appeared and Taehyung's stomach flipped.
He smiled back.
For a second, the rest of the room seemed to disappear.
Then Jimin said something.
Yoongi turned toward him.
And just like that, Taehyung was no longer the center of his attention.
He swallowed.
It was fine.
He had an entire exhibition to survive.
He could talk to Yoongi later.
He'd have time.
He had to.
"Taehyung."
He turned toward the voice of a woman standing near one of the paintings.
"Yes?"
"Are all of these people you know?"
Taehyung smiled politely.
"Most of them."
"Who's the one in the middle?"
His eyes moved toward the central canvas.
Jimin's silhouette.
"My best friend"
"He's lucky."
Taehyung laughed softly.
"Why?"
"Someone painted him like that."
Taehyung looked back at the canvas.
His smile softened.
"He's important to me."
The woman smiled.
"I can tell."
When she walked away, Taehyung looked across the room again.
Yoongi was standing beside Jieun now.
Jimin had moved toward another painting.
Yoongi said something that made Jieun laugh.
Then he looked toward Jimin.
Just for a second, Taehyung noticed.
He didn't know why, he just did
"Taetae!"
Jimin's voice pulled him out of his thoughts.
He turned around.
"Come here."
Taehyung walked toward his best friend.
Jimin was standing in front of the central painting.
His painting.
The silhouette was simple. There was no defined face, no detail that would immediately give away who it was but Taehyung knew Jimin would recognize himself even with his eyes closed.
Because he had painted his posture.
The way his shoulders tilted slightly whenever he was tired.
The shape of his hands.
The curve of his neck.
He had painted everything only someone who had spent years watching him could know.
Jimin didn't say anything.
He just stood there.
And when he finally turned toward him, his eyes were full of tears.
Something inside Taehyung's chest tightened.
He had wanted to paint that piece because Jimin was one of the people who had shaped his life the most.
His best friend.
His partner in crime.
The person who had been there when Taehyung was fifteen and had no idea what to do with his emotions, when he cried over his first heartbreak, and when he celebrated every little victory as if it were his own. Jimin was the person who knew when Taehyung needed to talk and when he simply needed company, the person who could walk into his room without knocking, the person who knew what song to play when Taehyung was sad, the one who had learned to recognize his silences long before anyone else.
Jimin was, in many ways, home.
And maybe that was why this was the centerpiece because if Taehyung had to choose one person to represent everything his life had meant up until then, it couldn't be anyone else.
"Tae..."
Jimin's voice cracked.
Taehyung barely had time to smile before his friend walked toward him.
And then he felt Jimin's arms wrap around his body.
"Taetae..."
"It's okay," Taehyung whispered, closing his eyes. "It's okay."
Jimin laughed through his tears.
"You're an idiot."
"I know."
"How am I supposed to not cry over this?"
Taehyung let out a small laugh.
"I don't know. Sounds like a you problem."
Jimin lightly smacked his arm.
"I hate you."
"No, you don't."
"No."
The answer came immediately.
"I don't."
Taehyung felt something warm settle in his chest.
Behind Jimin, he caught a glimpse of Yoongi, he had been standing a few steps away.
He was watching Jimin.
Not the painting.
Jimin.
Taehyung's eyes lingered there for a second.
Then Jimin turned back toward the canvas, another tear slipped down his cheek.
Yoongi reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a handkerchief.
He held it out.
"Here."
Jimin looked at him in surprise before accepting it.
"Thanks."
"Wouldn't want you to ruin your makeup," Yoongi murmured.
Jieun immediately jabbed him in the ribs.
"Yoonie."
"What?"
"Seriously?"
Jimin laughed through his tears.
Taehyung watched them, there was something almost effortless about the way they interacted.
Jimin smiled.
Yoongi smiled back.
Nothing unusual.
Nothing that Taehyung could put a name to.
And yet...
He looked away, maybe it was because he was tired or because he was still overwhelmed by the exhibition. Maybe because his mind had been working too hard all day... Whatever it was, he decided not to think about it.
Not today.
Today, he was supposed to be happy.
And he was.
Right?
"Taetae!"
Seojoon, Hyungsik, and Wooshik suddenly appeared beside him, carrying gifts and talking loudly enough to make several people turn around.
Taehyung laughed.
"What are you doing?"
"Celebrating."
"You're so loud."
"You're welcome."
They hugged him one after another, nearly knocking him backward.
"Guys!"
"Artist Kim!"
"Stop calling me that!"
They only laughed harder and Taehyung smiled despite himself.
This was what he had wanted.
People he loved.
People who loved him.
His paintings hanging on the walls, people stopping to look at them, asking questions.
People laughing, crying... and yet, every time someone moved toward the entrance, his eyes followed.
Every time he heard a familiar voice, his heart jumped before his brain could catch up.
Yoongi was somewhere in the gallery.
He knew that.
He'd seen him.
He'd spoken to him.
He'd even hugged him.
And still, some stupid part of Taehyung wanted more.
He wanted to talk to him alone.
He wanted to know what Yoongi thought of the paintings.
Not what Jieun had explained, not what anyone else had said.
He wanted to hear it from him.
By the time the exhibition had been open for a while, Taehyung had lost count of how many people he'd spoken to.
He had answered the same questions several times. Explained his process, talked about silhouettes. Thanked people for compliments, pretended not to blush when strangers told him his paintings were beautiful. He'd even helped Soobin escape a conversation with a particularly enthusiastic guest.
But his eyes kept wandering.
Toward the entrance.
Toward the other room.
Toward the little corner where he had last seen Yoongi.
Sometimes he caught glimpses of him.
Sometimes he didn't.
And whenever he did, there was always something small happening. Yoongi leaning down to hear Jimin over the music.
Jimin laughing or saying something close to Yoongi's ear.
Yoongi shaking his head and Jimin smiling.
Nothing.
Nothing at all. Taehyung didn't think anything of it. He couldn't, his mind was too busy with everything else.
With the exhibition.
With the people around him.
With the fact that he was going to talk to Yoongi later.
Eventually.
He just needed the right moment, he'd have one.
He had to.
At some point, Jieun appeared beside him.
"You've checked the door about thirty times."
Taehyung nearly choked on his drink.
"I have not."
"Thirty-two."
"You counted?"
"I was bored."
Taehyung narrowed his eyes.
"You have no hobbies."
"I helped teach you how to paint."
"That's not a hobby. That's emotional labor... besides I already knew before meeting you"
Jieun laughed.
Taehyung smiled.
Then his gaze wandered past her shoulder again.
She followed it and didn't say anything, just smiled knowingly.
Taehyung looked back at her.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"That sounded like something."
"Go talk to your guest."
"Which one?"
"The one you've been looking for all afternoon."
Taehyung's cheeks warmed.
"I wasn't looking for him."
"Sure."
Before he could defend himself, someone called her name.
Jieun walked away.
Taehyung sighed.
He looked toward the entrance of that room again.
Nothing.
He told himself he wasn't disappointed but he knew was lying.
The hours passed faster than he expected and eventually, exhaustion settled heavily over his shoulders.
Most of the guests had left the gallery, and Taehyung had already said goodbye to almost all of his classmates.
The flowers from Seokjin and Hoseok were finally in his hands, tucked carefully against his chest and he couln't help but smile every time he looked at them.
He had survived.
He had actually survived.
And, more importantly, the people he loved had seen his work.
They had understood it.
At least enough.
He walked toward the entrance leading to the side alley to let Jimin know he was ready, that was the deal. His best friend had told him he would wait for him so they could go back to the apartment they shared together. He had seen Jimin leave a few minutes earlier with Jieun and Yoongi.
A smile immediately spread across his face just thinking about the older man.
Well.
His thoughts at that moment and most of the time.
"Taehyungie!"
He stopped dead.
The voice belonged to the person currently occupying his thoughts.
He turned toward it.
Yoongi was approaching slowly, a small smile on his face.
If he knew what that smile did to Taehyung's heart rate, he would probably stop smiling at him altogether.
"What is it, hyung?"
He tilted his head when he noticed the complicated look on Yoongi's face.
"Uhm, I... I don't know how... how to ask this without making it weird."
He paused.
"We're friends, right?"
A small laugh escaped the taller man's lips as he listened to Yoongi stumble over his words. Taehyung would be lying if he said he hadn't imagined seeing Min Yoongi standing in front of him like this a thousand times.
A faint blush had begun to creep across the older man's cheeks, and the way his gaze seemed to search for somewhere on the floor more interesting than Taehyung's face, while his hands remained clasped nervously in front of him...
Could it be?
"I... uhm..."
Could this really be happening?
"Taehyungie, I... I'm sorry if this seems out of place..."
Could this finally be the moment I'd been waiting for?
"But I wanted to ask you something. You can say no, of course..."
Yes.
This was definitely the moment he'd been waiting for.
Taehyung's eyes began to shine with anticipation.
And his heart...
Ah, poor Taehyung's heart felt like it was about to explode from anticipation of whatever was about to come out of the older man's mouth. He had waited so long for this moment, he knew it wasn't all in his head.
The looks they shared.
The smiles.
The teasing.
The greetings from across the room whenever they saw each other.
Everything meant something.
Yoongi liked him too.
There was no doubt about it.
"Uhm, I... agh, this is ridiculous. Just forget—"
"No!"
It came out much louder than he intended, almost like a reflex.
"Y-Yoongi hyung, please, tell me... you can ask me anything."
The older man's eyes met Taehyung's.
There was a brightness in them that Yoongi could only admire and be grateful for, especially because of the trust they conveyed. He took a deep breath before nodding.
This is it.
He's going to ask me out.
"I wanted to ask you something..."
"Yes. Anything, hyung."
"You..."
"Me?"
"Could you give me your friend Jimin's number?"
"I would love it, Yoongi hyung!"
The enthusiasm in Taehyung's voice left Yoongi stunned for a couple of seconds.
However, he smiled widely at how easily the younger man had agreed to do him this favor. Taehyung, on the other hand, was trying to hide his confusion and the obvious flush spreading across his face.
"Ah... sorry. I think I heard you wrong, hyung."
His voice sounded breathless, as though somehow he was afraid to say the words out loud and hear an answer he wasn't prepared for.
"Ah, Taehyungie. I want you to give me your friend Jimin's number."
Yoongi lowered his gaze for a second.
"He's... definitely very handsome and interesting. And... I'm really sorry if this makes you uncomfortable."
The taller man felt every word sink quickly and painfully into his chest. His stomach twisted tighter and tighter as he listened to Yoongi talk about how wonderful it had been getting to know Jimin.
And the truth was, Taehyung couldn't blame him. Jimin was the love of his life.
His soulmate.
Taehyung knew better than anyone how attractive and captivating his friend could be.
So why did he feel like this?
"Taehyungie?"
The older man's hand on his arm brought him back to reality.
His gaze focused on Yoongi's eyes.
"Y-yeah. Sorry. I'll text you his contact information, hyung."
He let out a small, awkward laugh.
"I think I should go. I'm a little tired, you know... the pressure and the excitement."
He began backing away from him.
"Tae? Are you okay?"
"Yes, of course!"
Again, his voice came out louder than he intended.
That made Yoongi look at him with even more suspicion.
"I'm just tired, I promise. So... I'm going. Jimin must be waiting—"
"Yeah, actually..."
Yoongi smiled.
"That's why I'm here. He sent me to ask if you were ready, but I figured I'd take the opportunity to ask you—"
"Yeah, I'm ready."
Taehyung interrupted him.
His heart was beating far too loudly.
Why did his nose suddenly feel itchy?
"Better not keep him waiting."
"Taeh—"
"Bye, hyung. Talk to you later."
And he ran.
Taehyung would have loved for that to be one of those situations he could simply forget whenever it suited him.
But it wasn't.
He would have loved to say that he forgot how it felt to replay Yoongi's words over and over again in his head or the way he had talked about how good it felt to talk to Jimin. The way his stomach had started hurting like hell as he walked out of the gallery. The smile his hyung had given him when Taehyung, foolishly, agreed to give him Jimin's number.
Taehyung would have loved to say that, when he got into Jimin's car, he hadn't felt a shiver run down his spine at the thought that crossed his mind when he saw him smiling so brightly.
If he hadn't come today...
He blamed himself for that thought for months.
Jimin wasn't to blame for Yoongi not feeling the same way about him and he certainly couldn't blame Yoongi for falling for his best friend's charms.
Because, honestly...
Who in their right mind wouldn't fall in love with Park Jimin?
The problem with noticing the little details no one else noticed was that Taehyung had seen it before Jimin did.
He had seen the way Yoongi looked at him, the way Jimin had started smiling every time Yoongi appeared in front of him that afternoon. He had seen the handkerchief. It was the way Yoongi had handed it to him and the little smile Jimin had hidden between his tears.
The little details.
Always the little details.
And maybe that was the worst part.
Because Taehyung had fallen for Min Yoongi's charms too.
And now he had to watch him fall in love with someone else.
Ah.
Taehyung genuinely would have given anything to go back to being able to forget everything whenever it suited him.