It was difficult for Taehyung to contain the heat and sadness flushing his cheeks as he exited the building. The weight of the items in his grasp felt heavier than it should have with every step that distanced himself from Jade and the relationship he hadn't anticipated ending this way.

Though he knew he was the one who had royally fucked up, part of him resented the way Jade was so sure that everything they'd shared was ingenuine. The way he felt about her was anything but ingenuine and he'd thought he had done a decent job in showing her just that.

A single tear almost finds its way over his cheek before vanishing beneath his hurried hand and Taehyung lifts his head with a tiny sniffle as he made his way down the path that led to his neck of the woods.

On his way, he hears a familiar voice and spots two of his teammates congregated on the stoop of Yoongi's dorm.

Yoongi is seated outside on a stool, scrubbing the sides of his shoes with an old toothbrush. Namjoon is leaned against the brick wall, his hands tucked in the pockets of his practice clothes and his face scrunched in frustration as he spoke. Taehyung schools his features as he approached them, sniffling and blinking away any signs of sadness.

Namjoon pauses whatever he was on about when he notices Taehyung there and Yoongi glances up from his work, squinting through his hair. He regards him curiously for a moment, shaking his head to clear his bangs from his eyes.

"Superstar... what's good?" Namjoon greets him with his usual lackluster and Taehyung gives him a stiff nod.

"Sup...What yall doing?" he asks and Yoongi resumes scrubbing at the sole of his shoe, pausing to dip the toothbrush in a small bowl on the pavement that most likely contained water and dish soap.

"Tryna get these boys looking fresh out the box for that homecoming thing coming up.." he murmurs. Taehyung lifts his brow and a smirk crosses his face.

"Oh? You're going? I thought you said you were done for the semester..."

"Changed my mind." Yoongi shrugs nonchalantly, offering no further explanation for himself as he scrubbed away. To be frank, the black, red, and white Jordan 1's were in mint condition. Mainly because Yoongi never wore them. They were a gift from his mother that he cherished too much to ever wear outside of the house. But considering the theme of the party coming up, and who would be there, Yoongi figured it was time to give the shoes a night out for the one time.

Taehyung's brow crinkles as he watched Yoongi scrub the nonexistent dirt away with focus. He chuckles as he shook his head, redirecting his attention to the tallest of the three.

"What about you Seymore? You stepping out for once?"

Namjoon snorts at the nickname that clearly stuck with Taehyung since he decided it fit him. He turns up his nose and shakes his head in denial.

"Naw.....At least not for homecoming." he shrugs with his answer. Taehyung nods in understanding, not really feeling up to provoking Namjoon by poking at his lame social life. From the way he was feeling, he most likely wouldn't be attending the party either.

Breakups weren't a huge thing for Taehyung because he was rarely the one being left. He couldn't think of any time where he was in the position of blatant rejection and it admittedly stung. He wanted to be cross with Jade for making him feel so small but the rational part of him knew he was the only one to blame.

He still didn't like it though.  Especially when the thought of going out and getting drunk didn't sound as appealing as it would've otherwise. Being overly social was what caused this mess in the first place.

Taehyung falls quiet the more reality sinks in for him and it shows on his downtrodden expression. It lingers oddly along with his silence long enough for  Namjoon to notice. He tilts his head and perks his brow in concern.

"You alright?" he asks, prompting Yoongi to glance up again. Taehyung snaps out of his mind and blinks up at him with a frown.

"Huh? Yeah...why.." he stammers and Namjoon's other brow raises.

"I don't know...you just seem...off." Namjoon shrugs and Yoongi's gaze narrows up at Taehyung's shifty demeanor. Though he shrugs in denial, it was obvious that something was up. He scans him from head to toe with scrutiny, his eyes taking note of the clothes draped over his arm.

"Isn't that your old letterman...." he asks.

" And the necklace from the Valentine's banquet.." Namjoon adds, glancing between Tae and Yoongi.

"..Didn't you give those to Jade last year?" Yoongi tacks on, ultimately putting Taehyung in the hot seat. His jaw clenches and he looks away shamefully for a moment, pointedly avoiding eye contact with both men as he nodded ahead.

"I'm..uh.. pretty tired from practice and shit so...I'll just hit yall later," Taehyung mumbles, leaving the two of them shortly after. Yoongi thinks to question his odd behavior further but opts not to since he already knew what Taehyung had been going through. It didn't take much to figure out the reason why he had a hand full of Jade's gifted items and it would only pour more alt in his wound if he pressed the issue.

Taehyung continues on down the path towards his dorm and Namjoon watches him go curiously and patiently, waiting until he's at a far enough distance before turning back to Yoongi.

"Do I wanna know what's going on with him?" he inquires and Yoongi grunts humorlessly before responding.

"I'd pay good money not to know any of that man's business, to be honest..." he chuckles. As he resumes scrubbing away at the heel of his shoe, Namjoon watches silently and smirks with intrigue at the amount of effort Yoongi was putting into it.

"So....about this party.." he begins and Yoongi is already rolling his eyes.

"What about it.." he huffs with a hint of irritation. Namjoon grins wickedly and turns his body so that only his shoulder is against the bricks.

"No, because now I'm genuinely curious. I've watched you scrub those shoes for a cool 30 minutes and I don't think it has anything to do with how dirty they obviously aren't. I've seen you buss the same pair of kicks for functions all year and not give a damn. Something's different." Namjoon points. Yoongi could feel the blush in his ears blooming under Namjoon's scrutinizing gaze.

"Nothing's different. I told you...they just go perfect with the fit and.." he begins. Namjoon's sudden laugh cuts him off just as he's about to lie, and Yoongi stifles his smile at being caught slipping.

"AND... since when do you care so much about the outfit?.... Hold up.....This is about Alana." Namjoon gasps amid his laughter.

"Noooo it's n.."

"Oh it absolutely is and I'm mad that I'm just now noticing.  This is great. You two would look good together, man.."

Yoongi begins shaking his head in denial, rolling his tongue under his bottom lip with a smirk.

"You're jumping way off the rails to a conclusion I haven't even confirmed yet.." he continues to deny and deflect.

"Yet?" Namjoon perks a brow and after a long beat of hesitant silence, Yoongi exhales heavily before dropping the toothbrush into the soapy water.

"Alright...I do like her, ok? I do but..." he pauses. Namjoon's amused expression fades as he watched the conflict form in  Yoongi's etched brow. He frowns slightly and tilts his head.

"But...what?"

Yoongi glances over at him briefly and sighs before rising from his stool. He sets the perfectly cleaned shoe beside its mate near his door before stepping down from the short step on his stoop to glance around as if he were worried someone he didn't want to hear him would suddenly approach as he responded.

"It's a lot. I haven't really been interested in anyone like this in a while and it's all rushing in so fast that I'm not sure how to process it. The seasons about to start and you know shit gets hectic. We barely have energy for class, let alone women...On top of that, she's been through a lot already and I don't know. I don't think me trying to get at her is what she needs right now."  he shrugs. Which wasn't far off from the truth at all. Namjoon shrugs his shoulders half-heartedly.

"Maybe. Maybe not...Sounds more to me like you're making excuses though. Or perhaps you're just scared of her not feeling the same way. Which I don't perceive to be the issue.."

Yoongi looks up at Namjoon with a perplexed frown.

Was it the issue?

As he considered it, a grossly familiar and juvenile sensation swarms him. The feeling of insecurity and uncertainty. The feeling of whether he really was the type of guy Alana needed around when he was already dealing with his own....issues.

"Anyway..as you were saying? Arent you trying to figure out something related to a woman yourself?..while you're over here tryna pick my brains.."

Namjoon leans up from the wall with a shake of his head and a chuckle. He takes a few steps forward to joining Yoongi at his level at the bottom of the stoop.

"Oh, I already know what I'm going to do. The next time I see her, I'm making my move. It's that simple...But you on the other hand..."

Namjoon pauses to glance down at Yoongi's obsessively clean Retro Jordan 1's and smirks.

"..you, my friend have bigger problems. I'll see you around though," he says, patting Yoongi's shoulder gently before stuffing his hands back in his pockets and heading in the direction of the parking lot. As he goes, Yoongi's gaze lingers on the shoes and he grimaces at the compulsion to continue to scrub them clean.

As if it would palliate his growing anxiety associated with his feelings.

Friday night...

"Seriously?????"

Alesha stared at the empty white shelves of the desserts cooler with annoyance. Her eyes lingered on the faded mylar that held the UPC and brand name of her favorite treat.

Which from the looks of it, were completely out of stock.

It would have been childish of her to cry but the urge was still there as she let the glass door swing closed. She sighs as she glanced down at her little shopping basket of PMS essentials. Pain meds and snacks of the sweet/salty persuasion.

Reese's.
Pretzels.
Potatoe chips.
A bag of chocolate chips.
Chocolate-covered potato chips...

Her standard go-to's when her body's cruel way of congratulating her on not being knocked up was pain and discomfort. Her back ached. Her head was throbbing.

A wonderful start to the weekend after a long week of class and homework. And also dodging calls from her family back home, asking her if she had any plans to visit no doubt. The semester had barely begun and she was already over it.

Alesha was the middle child and anyone who shares the same birth position understands the tiny sense of detachment middle children feel when it comes to family. Not that they're incapable of love or resistant to it. They're just used to going without an adequate amount of it. Coasting through life and under the radar of parents too concerned with setting up the future of the first born and catering to every need of the youngest.

Middle children are usually the most emotionally mature and independent. Self-sufficiency was essential when everyone forgot about you. So when Alesha excelled academically and worked her ass off every summer in high school to afford the car she drove through 4 states with a rented U-Haul attached, it was needless to say her parents were extremely impressed and slightly disheartened by the fact that she didn't need any of them to do it.

She never did.

But what she did need was her fucking favorite snack to be ready and available for her to purchase.

Every inconvenience seemed massive when your uterus was contracting viciously. So to find that the only green tea flavored mochi of a particular brand that was only sold at this particular convenience store 30 minutes off campus was seemingly gone, it would be fair to say that Alesha was not a happy camper.

As she perused the aisles somberly, a vibration against her left tiddie reminds her that she stuffed her phone there to free her hands for a moment. She pulls it from her bra and rolls her eyes in disgust when she sees Jimin's name across her screen.  She was honestly surprised he was still trying to contact her after she'd been ignoring him since seeing him at the mall with another girl. Not that he deserved the cold shoulder for an offense he probably didn't know he committed. They weren't exclusive in any sense and Alesha made up in her mind that she was keeping Jimin at an arm's length for that very reason.

But something about actually seeing him being so friendly with another girl...

Hoe-min:
Moooooochaaaaaaaayyy...

Hoe-min:
Wya?

Hoe-min:

Hoe-min:
Come sit on me. Please 🥺

Alesha stares at the texts, pondering whether or not to even respond. The nerve of him. To look that good and be that brazen when she was so annoyed with him. He was clearly drunk to be this bold but why did he have to be so damn attractive when he wasn't being so blatantly ignant.

She tilts her head, painfully grimacing at the way the angle of the second picture made her tummy flutter and her coochie ache.

Fuck, he's so fine. Who was she kidding? If she weren't on her period, she'd most definitely be heading his way to do just that.

With a bitter sigh, Alesha taps out a quick text. She lets Jimin know of her...current condition and halfway expects that to be the end of the conversation when...

Hoe-min:
So? Bring that diaper booty over here.

Hoe-min:
I got food.

He was most definitely drunk.

Alesha rolls her eyes at his response but this time with a flattered smirk. She taps a reluctant response quickly before stashing her phone back in her boob.

Maybe she'd stop by for a moment later on if she felt like it.

Hoe ass...

Ugh.

"Hey..." Alesha mumbles dryly when she reached the front register and placed her items on the counter for the regular employee scan, who barely greeted her as she popped her gum.

The store was relatively empty for a Friday evening and Alesha was grateful for it. She didn't care what she looked like when she rolled out of the bed. Ditching her heating pad for a cute but cozy pair of sweats, her fuzzy socks for some slides, and her bonnet for a messy bun and headband.

She didn't even bother with putting on eyebrows, if that gives an accurate idea of how deep in the 'fuck its' she was. Perhaps she'd put forth some effort before visiting Jimin's dorm but nothing out of the way. Not like she'd be getting any action anyway.

As she stood waiting for her total, another customer sidles up to the front register. The cashier glances over at him with little interest as she scanned the chocolate chips, popping her gum again. The sound makes Alesha's eye twitch and she gives the girl a dead glare briefly. After a beat she reaches for her wallet, turning her head slightly as she did.

In the corner of her eye, she spots an item in the other customer's basket as it dangled in the crook of his fingers at his side.

She does a stealthy double-take and to her infuriating surprise, in this stranger's basket was the very reason she drug herself out of the comforts of her bed for.

That DAMNED MATCHA MOCHI!!!

Mother fucker.

Her body language remained un-phased. Even her facial expression maintained its stoicism with a hint of disinterest.

But her gaze was locked and pointed in the direction of that mochi and the undeserving customer about to buy the last box of it.

She scans him ruefully, noting his height and wide stature. From the way his shoulders hunched and bulged, it could be deduced that this guy had some muscles underneath his baggy and unassuming attire.

He wore black and green quarter tee beneath an open black hoodie with dark fitted jeans. A hat with a logo on its front dangles from his belt loop as he stood patiently in line with his basket in one hand and his phone in the other. As he scrolled, Alesha notices his fair knuckles marked with tattoos she couldn't decipher and the remnants of black nail polish chipping on his thumb.

His black hood covered his shaggy black hair that sheilded the upper half of his face. With his head down and his attention on his phone, the only part of it that was visible was his mouth. A thin silver hoop pierced the corner of his pale pink bottom lip and by the way it wiggled, Alesha could tell he was poking at it mindlessly with his tongue.

Which normally wouldn't be attractive but for some reason.....

"Ugh....fuck him and his cute ass lip ring.."

Her eyes shoot down towards his basket again with resentment.

"I bet he doesnt even appreciate you. He probably just inhales you, not even taking the proper time to chew  and savour the complexity of your flavor the way I would..."

Alesha's chin trembles as the dreams of enjoying a quiet night of snacks and Stardew drift further away, and possibly entertaining the idea of letting Jimin nestle against her (🌚) , as if the small mountain of snacks that was in her basket wouldn't suffice.

"$14.23 is your total." the cashier says, breaking Alesha's scrutinizing gaze on the other customer's items just as he looks up.

Alesha hands over a $20 bill from her wallet and snaps it closed before stowing in back in her jacket pocket. The guy beside her shifts and comes closer to where she stood, putting his phone away to retrieve his wallet in preparation.

"He smells nice....ugh.." she says to herself bitterly.

Alesha doesn't even look back at him as he placed his shit on the counter beside her newly bagged purchases. Despite her curiosity urging her to look into the face of the man who was inadvertently putting a damper on her night, she opts to keep her eyes on the register as the store employee counted her change.

"Thank you." she says hurriedly as she takes the bills and loose change, snatching her bag from the counter and turning away.

The music is Cages was deafening and the atmosphere was in its usual chaotic harmony of stoners, barely dressed women, and overall sketchy ass individuals all mingling in the cluttered space.

Dez is posted in a crowded booth with a few of his homies, each with a girl in their lap or on the seat beside them. The one beside him in particular is too engulfed by the music and the woman seated her companion's lap, both of them tipsily bouncing to the beat.

Smoke trailed from Dez's nostrils as he exhaled, his eyes so low that someone in passing would think he wasasleep. If anyone in the loud and hazy nightclub would give enough of a damn to notice.

He was bored already of the people around him and his mind was too clouded with kush and frustration to be engaged.

One of the many unsavory side effects of being high was the tendency to fixate. Whether it be on a task or a thought, the inebriated mind could check for hours on a tangent. In this Dez's case, Alana's radio silence was bothering him beyond rationality,

She was ignoring him.
Leaving him on read.
Sending him to voicemail.

Just straight up silence since the night she left his apartment.

Admittedly, he knew he was tab bit out of line for how he treated her that night but he figured she'd come back around.

She always did.

But after a week had passed and all of his attempts to contact her went unacknowledged, Dez was steadily growing irritated.

Another side effect of the devil's lettuce.

With his social meter slowly draining, Dez pulls his phone out of his pocket and opens Instagram. He scrolls mindlessly for a few seconds, hoping something on his timeline would distract him from his thoughts.

Unfortunately for him, it doesn't take him long to stumble upon a certain someone's most recent post.

He's unsure of what to call the emotion he suddenly felt when he saw the tattoo but it was a algorithm of many in isolated phases.

Surprise. Mostly at the fact that she'd sat there and got something so big. She was not known to have a high pain tolerance. At least not from what he remembered.

Amusement.

It was cute and nicely done. He wondered if she went alone or had someone with her.

Naw...she definitely took someone with her.

Slight Hurt.

He knew which hand the tattoo he drew for he was on so he knew well enough that this new tattoo was a cover up.

A damn good one too. If he didn't know any better, he wouldn't have even known there used to be something else beneath it.

Damn....

She really just...covered it up.

Like it was nothing.....

And then...ultimately came the last emotion. The one that had his heart beat suddenly picking up its rhythm  and the alcohol and weed in his system warming his blood. He clenches his jaw and shifts in his seat, making room for his left leg to bounce anxiously beneath the table.

So what's this mean? That she's done? She think she can just cover up a tat and we're a done deal without talking to me..after all these fucking years. She thinks she's just gonna be done...with me?

Naw...naw...

She's wildn.

She got me twisted up with some other mufucka...

Its gotta be a new dude in the picture...gotta be. She not just ignoring me for no reason..

I knew she was fucking around with other niggas anyway man...fuck her. I bet she had one with her when she got that wack ass tattoo...

If thats how she wants shit to be? Bet...I'll show her ass.

Her and whatever nigga she fucking with...

Thats a bet.

On my mama, thats a bet..

That was the moment when Dez was suddenly rising from his seat, carelessly shoving the girl next to him aside and stepping over the few people in his way towards exiting the booth.

He had tunnel vision as he trudged through the crowded club, not caring about how many people he bumped into on his way to the door.

That emotion steams from him the moment he hits the night air, polluted by the sound of car horns honking, music blaring from their windows and the loud voices of congregating patrons outside of the club.

He registers none of it though, that emotion too consuming of him to allow it. Dez continues on until he's in his car and gets in, starts it and pulls off into the warm night.

Done with me?

Bet.