Thursday the 11th, Nov 2018

It could have been that Taehyung didn't know what he was seeing, or that the twenty one year old couldn't see clearly enough. But he only used a pair of glasses when reading music; that is, he could see from far distances as clear as a dog could smell what it wanted from a restaurant close by.

So was Namjoon wearing a tie? For real?

He had left the younger in a bid to catch their bus, since it had been obvious the youngest could never have made it, and had anticipated his person to arrive a few minutes before the first class of the day.

What he had not expected, was a tie knotted around the collar of the boy's blue shirt.

'Joon', Taehyung breathed. He would have been surprised at his own shock, normally, but this wasn't your usual kind. This was one of those types you couldn't see everyday, because they had never happened before. Ever.

No, the entirety of high school didn't count.

'You're wearing a tie?!'

Joon, for emphasis, tugged the piece of fabric closer to his neck.

Taehyung watched the younger begin to take notes out his bag. Jin watched too, eyes sliding from boy to boy, fascinated by Taehyung's reaction.

'You're not going to explain?'

The brunet gave the twenty one year old an impudent look. He brushed a hand over his slacks; all of Taehyung's attention had been taken by the tie, that he hadn't noticed them earlier. He gaped even wider.

'I'm taking a stand— doing what I'm supposed to have done a long time ago.

Taehyung couldn't believe his ears. Jin's gaze from boy to boy slid faster.

'You're getting a job?!'

Namjoon's mouth turned all icky. He frowned, disgusted.

'No, good gosh. Not that.' Then he eyed his friend really thorough, disappointment shooting hard. 'Why would you even think—'

'Lord'. Taehyung's eyes were expanding. 'No way'.

Namjoon's eyes narrowed. 'Get it wrong and I shave them caterpillars in your sleep'.

Taehyung wasn't even phased. 'You're going to see your uncle Minseok— all the way in Daegu Uncle Minseok?!'

'Bingo', said Namjoon, and leaned into his seat.

Jin smiled.

Taehyung still couldn't believe what he was hearing. 'Today? And you'll get back this evening too?' He waved his arms around all wild, something you couldn't see on a usual. 'What, what...' he inhaled, face deflating, as he brought all the fingers of his right hand together in a pinch to his face, and then drew them backwards. 'What in the world inspired this?!'

Namjoon gave the older a sly smile. He flicked beneath a nail and blew the non-existent dirt from it.

'The state of being broke'.

'So you're going there to beg for money?'

Namjoon crossed his legs, pleased.

Taehyung's eyes went down from their high. He rolled them.

'I've told you', he drawled, his right hand moving along, 'many times and a thousand more, to come work with me at RJ's; it's a one day in a week thing, and you get paid sensibly for helping delivery companies lift things, but no, man's not sensible enough to make benefitting decisions'.

Namjoon sent Taehyung a sour look. He ran a glance all over the older's upper half, and sighed.

'Always a chance to brag them muscles'. He eyed him in the face, disgust seeming to brew within a kettle of envy. 'Hockey rat'.

The black in the raven haired's eyes disappeared for half a second, in another eye roll.

Namjoon shrugged. 'Yoongi's words, not mine'.

Jin eyed the youngest boy, giving a slight disapproving shake of his head. 'You should get a job though, if you believe you have some dignity to save.'

Namjoon directed the bitter gaze at Jin, itching to raise a hand at him. 'Not yet I won't, until my parents decide that it's way too bothersome for me to remain at their dining table'.

Taehyung sat up, having another question. 'What's this sudden need for cash anyway?'

'My project', Namjoon replied, eagerly leaning in to meet the older. 'I don't know exactly what I'm going to do for it yet, but I'm meeting with Yoongi this weekend, and I want to be ready for whatever we come up with, and go big and best on it'.

Taehyung gave the brunet a once over. He tapped a finger on his slacks.

'These aren't ironed well enough though'.

Namjoon sighed, lips turning downwards. 'I tried my best'.

'Not enough', Jin mumbled.

Namjoon nodded, not disputing.

Taehyung gave the brunet another once over. 'I shouldn't be encouraging this but, good luck; he's a tough one.' He gave a smirk, and dropped a brow as quickly as he raised it. 'Do get that cash— you know he should get some of it out of him'.

Namjoon winked.

'And', Tae continued, ' I didn't even know you had a tie, and these slacks—', he pursed his lips, eyes narrowing significantly, 'what else are you keeping from me?'

Namjoon winked again, and pushed the tie closer to his neck.

Taehyung rolled his eyes, yet again. 'You didn't do the knot right.'

Namjoon huffed.

Jin stored the transmission, eyes on the brunet's slacks. Then he raised them up to his face.

'Get me a pizza?' He watched Tae's face morph into a question. 'Get us a pizza?'

Taehyung frowned.

Jin rephrased. 'Pizzas?'

Namjoon shook his head, smiling. He shrugged.

'Sure'.

Jin was pleased— Taehyung too.

--

Jin was going to continue walking down the hallway, but Taehyung swiftly grabbed his arm; causing him to sway on his feet and fling to an abrupt halt beside the raven-haired boy. He sucked his teeth and cursed under his breath, unable to stop himself in time.

Taehyung frowned at his attitude, but chose not to acknowledge it.

'Where are you going? We're here.'

Jin made a jut of his thumb down the corridor. 'The bathroom. I need to go'.

Taehyung pushed his glasses up his nose, and stared into Jin's face. He didn't let go of his arm.

'I can't let you. That's exactly what happened last time, right before we stepped into the theatre, and you missed the entirety of class'.

Jin tried to wriggle his arm out of Tae's grip. The boy drilled his fingers deeper, and Jin was beginning to feel the imprints stay.

'I really really needed to go. That tofu didn't sit quite right with me; you remember how upset I was about it— don't bring it up anymore'.

Taehyung softened his grip, but still didn't let go. He had sensed his fingers beginning to draw their outline on the other boy's arm, and felt bad. His face went down in a mix of worry and bother.

'Well, what is it this time? The fried rice was fine. Why do you need to go? Right now, too, a few minutes before this class?'

Jin bit hard on his bottom lip, frustrated.

Taehyung tsked. He stepped closer to the doors, and pulled the groaning boy with him into the theatre.

Students sparsed out into the large room, dropping into unoccupied seats. They did so according to the instruments they played, as was the usual arrangement, so that it was easier to identify who played what, and to have them relate to one another as the class went on.

Taehyung eyed Jin, who stayed glued to his side. He was being discrete; but Taehyung could see it all, the wringing of his fingers against one another, his teeth refusing to let go of his bottom lip. Taehyung understood the nerves when they came, but he couldn't place a foot on this, for there was no ledge in the first place.

Seokjin reigned in the theatre. His guitar succumbed to his practiced prowess, and he made it known during "skill share hour and a half", always. It was home for him to do so, and he reveled in the comfort it brought, always.

He belonged there.

'Why are you sitting with me? What's not ok?'

Jin looked up at the younger, eyes perplexed.

Taehyung pointed at where the guitarists were sat, at the opposite of the theatre.

'You should go stay where you should be'.

Jin looked across the room, finding the guitarists with his eyes. He watched as they tuned their strings, tugging at them to find perfect pitch. The guitar box below tipped to its side and fell on his foot, alerting him of its existence. He stared at it, until the black of the material seemed to melt into the black of the carpet.

Taehyung tapped his arm. 'The professor will be here soon. What do you want to say?'

Jin didn't want to tell him anything.

Taehyung pushed his arm gently, willing to send him away from beside him. Jin got up, guitar box in hand, and took himself to his rightful seat.

Taehyung was where the clarinet players were, most of them tuning their minds to recollect their hand movements on the instruments, reading through sheets of music notes.

He pushed his specs up again, and sent Jin a wave.

Jin gave the wave back.

He unzipped the guitar out of its case and began to try to tune it, hands in imitation of the glide within the honey fingers of other students.

Soon enough, the professor was making his presence known, and the skill show class began.

The Kims did not have to wait so long before it was their turn, the first letter of the surname being number one on the Korean alphabet.

A saxophonist Seojun's turn ended, and then it was Seokjin's turn, so Jin went down from his seat to the stage.

He didn't have to look around to know he was at the middle of the theatre's attention, but he did anyway, and scanned the entire room of its people. His feet began a rap on the floor, his heart thumping in tempo.

Overhead, his eye caught Taehyung's small smile.

He looked down at his guitar, the instrument melting into goo and seeping between his fingers; a chain reaction taking the first light to its match.

It was his heart first; beginning to thump even louder, completely drowning out the silence in the room.

Then his breathing joined the drumming in his chest, with its loud symphony, both blending in chaotic accordance.

His palms swam in buckets of nervous sweat, and he tried to dry them out with his bottoms— rubbing them hard, though discretely, against the fabric.

His legs had grown heavy since he entered the theatre, and even heavier as he moved from seat to seat to stage, but there and then, they swapped with rushing taps, becoming quick, large puddles below him.

In a second he was on the floor, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, twitching like he was made to.

Taehyung shot to his feet.