Jeongguk learns that Jimin is actually quite different from his initial impression of the older boy. The pretenses he had put up in front of Jeongguk instantly melts away from the moment they exchange numbers. There is no awkward phase in their friendship. Jimin doesn't skitter around him nor takes things slowly. He isn't constantly apologetic and regretful in the way that Jeongguk would be, but rather he takes the lead and dives in first without testing the waters. In fact, he's the most softest and headstrong person that Jeongguk has ever met, and it's a bit intimidating at first, how sure Jimin is of himself. How he holds himself together like a monument. How there's a certain fire he holds that is overwhelming, and sometimes it feels as if Jeongguk is going to be burned. But instead Jimin makes him feel warm—makes him feel safe. Because Park Jimin is the kind of gentle ferociousness that Jeongguk never knew he needed in his life, and it's mesmerizing. He's the kind of person who isn't afraid to laugh with his whole body, or throw himself across Jeongguk's lap and pout when he's had a long day.

If Jeongguk ever thought that Hoseok was clingy, over the next few days he learns that Jimin is in a completely different league of clinginess. While he doesn't send as many shitty memes from 2012 like Hoseok does, Jeongguk finds himself having to silence his phone often because Jimin spams him with the most random of topics. Like the time he'd sent Jeongguk a picture of a baby turtle just to rant about how fucking cute it is. Or the time he'd sent a blurred photo of Hoseok's back as he stood in front of the mirror in the dance studio, all sweaty and focused.

Jiminnie:
BTCH WHAT THE FUCK
You:
?
Jiminnie:
I WANT HIM TO STEP ON MY FACE
You:
Why would u want that? Are u guys fighting?
Jiminnie:
....
Oh my sweet innocent gukkie
I want him to step on me as in like
I want him to press me against a mirror and fuck me until i'm crying
I'd let him call me baby too
Scratch that
I'd let him call me whatever he wants :)

Jeongguk had promptly turned off his phone after that and spent the rest of class with his head on the desk trying to erase that mental image. Do people normally say those kinds of things about the people they like? Maybe Jimin's just weird. Yeah, definitely weird.

And the thing is, it's just who he is. He's not afraid to constantly barrage Jeongguk's phone by slews of text messages because he's the kind of person to send a million texts instead of just one paragraph. He's not afraid to make crude jokes that never fail to make Jeongguk's face go through five different shades of red and when he laughs, he laughs like armageddon. He laughs as if they're the only people on the planet, and he doesn't hold fear in his chest. Doesn't cage it up and let it suffocate him, but rather he faces everything head on. Never once is he uncertain or shy and Jeongguk envies him so much—how he's able to let his presence encompass a room by just being himself. He's beautiful, smart, kind, and Jeongguk is starry eyed with envy.

But it's not in a malicious way, really. Rather, Jimin is quick to become a person that he looks up to. A person that he would like to be. He hopes that in another life he's born as someone like Jimin.

Although at times Jimin's personality is a little too overwhelming for Jeongguk. Sometimes he feels himself start to shut down because his brain is stupid and short circuits because this can't possibly be real. No one would willingly be friends with someone as awful as him. Like Hoseok, Jimin is too good for him so Jeongguk tries to avoid him.

He tries, as in Jimin refuses to let it happen. He's quick to adjust to Jeongguk's mood swings and has no qualms about getting Jeongguk's address from Hoseok only to bang on his door at midnight with chinese takeout and more banana milk. Jeongguk wonders if Jimin's a psychic or if he's just easy to read—probably the latter.

"Are you okay?" Jimin's standing in the doorway. The bag of takeout's stuffed so full that it looks as if it's about to rip. Jeongguk's wearing nothing but boxers and a white t-shirt with stains on it from the cup ramen he'd eaten yesterday.

He blinks owlishly. Eyes dry and achey because he hasn't slept in two days. His mind hasn't been kind to him lately. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Jimin glares at the stain and asks, "when was the last time you took a shower?"

Jeongguk tries to remember. He can't. Has he been floating again? When was the last time he'd hung out with Jimin or Hoseok? Tuesday? What day is it? He's tired of trying to remember when his brain is so hellbent on forgetting everything.

"I dunno," he whispers. Tries to shrug it off. Stares at Jimin's shoes because this is embarrassing. He's embarrassed. He can never seem to go a day without worrying his friends and it makes something burn hot and ugly inside the pit of his stomach because Jeongguk doesn't want to be a burden and he really does try his hardest to deal with everything himself, but it's like lately he's so transparent. He'd allowed himself to open up a little bit around Hoseok and somewhere along the way he'd lost the facade he'd so carefully crafted and he hates it. Inside his heart is a quieter space and it turns out that it hurts when people get inside of it.

Why can't he just tell Jimin that he's not okay? Why is it so goddamn hard just to be truthful for once?

"Sometimes I don't remember things." He doesn't sound panicked, just defeated. Tired.

Jimin's quiet for a short moment. Jeongguk's still staring at his shoes. And then softly, as he puts a hand on Jeongguk's arm to gently move him back so that he can step through the threshold, "go take a shower. I'll put something nice on for us, hm? We can watch Infinity War again if you'd like."

Jeongguk doesn't have the energy to argue. Just shrugs and wordlessly shuffles to his room to grab whatever clean clothes he can find. Except, he hasn't done the laundry in a week. His room looks like a tornado has blown through it and he tries to ignore it. Grabs whatever looks the cleanest, smells it and deems it okay enough to wear before he heads to the bathroom.

He spends a little too much time in the shower looking at the floor, watching the water go down the drain until his fingers start to resemble raisins and Jimin knocks on the door to check on him. When he finally manages to gather himself enough to communicate with other human beings, he finally steps out of the shower. He finds Jimin on his couch, food containers spread out over the coffee table and the beginning of Infinity War paused on the T.V.

Jeongguk joins him shyly, cautiously almost. He sits down a bit stiff as if this isn't his own apartment but he tries to relax. Tries to talk to Jimin like a friend and not a stranger.

"I hope you don't mind the chinese." Jimin gestures to the general's chicken, places an eggroll on the plate in front of Jeongguk. "I know you're a banana milk addict but you don't share a lot about yourself so I picked whatever."

It's such an insignificant comment but it stings a bit. Makes him feel like shit.

"I-I'm not picky," he reassures Jimin with a faint flush. "You didn't have to go out of your way to all of this. It's like really late." He nibbles on an eggroll. When was the last time he ate something other than packaged ramen?

"I wanted to though." Jimin's firm with his words. Gives Jeongguk a knowing look before he shoves a chopstick full of LoMein into his mouth.

Jeongguk chews slowly. Hides his eyes by staring at the plate in front of him and frowns. "Sometimes things are blurry," he says. He doesn't know why he's being honest. He doesn't know why it matters. He doesn't know why any of this fucking matters.

"Blurry how?" It's obvious that Jimin won't drop it until he gets the answer he wants.

Jeongguk shifts uncomfortably. This is the part where he should get angry and clam up like he always does because he's never been stupid enough to bare the ugliness inside to people who want to know too much again. How many have hurt him just because they knew? He's lost count. Turns out that people don't like sadness that isn't pretty. Sadness that can't be romanticized. No one likes sadness that cuts jagged like a rusty knife.

But the thing is, he's never really talked about it before. Because it's easy to say sometimes it hurts to breathe and laugh it off. I'm lonely and have no friends. The second boy that had kissed Jeongguk had laughed at him for that. But no one's ever stopped to listen from the beginning. From the moment anyone sees his dead eyes they run and it doesn't even rattle his bones anymore, but Jimin looks at him with genuine concern that it makes him feel like throwing it all up. But he doesn't know how to open his mouth and let it spill out. He works more like a broken faucet than a flowing river and how do you fix that? How the fuck does anyone fix that?

"Sometimes—" his throat tightens and he leans back against the couch, takes a deep breath, nose flaring. "Sometimes I'll be here but then I blink and four hours have passed and then I'm sitting in a lecture wondering how I got there. It's as if time stops existing and when things get real bad I'll forget an entire week. It's so scary, hyung. I don't know why it happens but I start getting this floaty feeling, like I'm not really me and then I'm gone. I turn to dust or somethin'. I—I don't mean to ghost anyone the way I do. I can't really control it and it's just—"

He cuts himself off, head spinning and eyes blurring. It's hard to breathe. He wonders if he's said too much. Let too much of the bad leak out and he doesn't want to scare Jimin away but, but—it hurts to keep it all inside and Jeongguk has been expanding for eight years. A balloon filled with water ready to pop.

His next exhale is shaky and when he speaks, his voice cracks. "It's just that when it happens I don't know what I'm doing. I forget everything." And then quietly, "I think there's something wrong with me, hyung."

Jimin doesn't say anything for awhile. Just hums and reaches out to uncurl Jeongguk's hands that had clenched tightly into a fist, nails digging into the skin of his palms. He traces the crescent indentations left behind before he intertwines their fingers together.

"Hey, Guk?"

"Y-yeah?"

"Can you look at me?"

Jeongguk presses his lips together and resolutely glares at their hands.

"Please?"

He breaks instantly, but the moment they make eye contact he flinches.

"'m sorry," he mumbles.

"Hey, hey. Please don't be sorry." Jimin squeezes his hand. "I can't say that I understand what you're going through because I've never had to deal with something like that before, but I'm here for you, okay? So there's no need to feel ashamed or feel like a burden around me. I'm actually really glad you told me?"

Jeongguk looks doubtful but feels himself tearing up again anyways. "R-really?"

"Yeah. Thank you for trusting me enough to share a piece of yourself with me, Jeongguk." Jimin's voice is gentle and raspy and warm. "I know that I was terrible towards you before, but let me make it up to you by just being here for you."

Jeongguk sniffles. Looks back down at their hands; Jimin's fingers are short and stubby, a stark contrast compared to his own larger ones. He thinks they look like gnarled tree roots and wonders if their friendship can be just as tightly woven together. Cemented. Permanent.

But then he thinks about Taehyung and how they're best friends and Jimin will always choose Jeongguk last.

"Does Taehyung know that we're friends?" he asks. Feels irrationally jealous and upset. It's petty and he knows it.

Jimin hesitates and that's enough of an answer for Jeongguk. He rips his hand away and scoots over to create space between them. "He doesn't know does he?" his voice is flat. Defeated. He's clamming up again, an easy defense mechanism.

You're ashamed to be around me, aren't you? He wants to say.

Jimin looks guilty. "He never really talks about you anymore and I'm not sure how to bring it up."

"You still hate me." The accusation is ridiculous and he doesn't know why he's making such a big deal out of Taehyung not knowing that they're friends. It shouldn't even be important because it isn't.

"What the hell?" Jimin's obviously upset. Cheeks flushed and lips pulled downwards. Jeongguk doesn't expect his statement to put him off so much. "Do you think I spend time with you and buy you food because I hate you?" he runs his hands through his hair. Sighs in exasperation. "I thought you trusted me."

"You're Taehyung's friend." The response is automatic and Jeongguk immediately regrets it. Hurt flickers through Jimin's eyes and ah, there it is. Jeongguk had almost forgotten how easy it is for him to hurt people. He expects Jimin to stand up angrily and scream at him before storming out of his apartment. He expects to never see him again.

But instead Jimin stares at him, hard and honest. "But I'm also your friend."

Jeongguk's a little shell shocked. Doesn't know how to handle this situation because Jimin throws him completely off of his rocker. There's a beat of silence. "What if he gets angry when he finds out?"

Jimin rolls his eyes. "Taehyung's my best friend not my fucking owner. He has no say on who my friends are."

"Oh," is all Jeongguk can say. He feels a little bad now, an apology already at the tip of his tongue. But then he remembers what Jimin had said about apologizing and he's trying to work on that. "Can we start the movie?" he asks meekly instead.

The tension immediately dissolves. Jimin scrunches his nose and playfully cuffs his ear with his hand. "You're such a kid."

"You're the one who suggested it, hyung."

"It's because you're obsessed with this series you little shit." Jimin presses play and Jeongguk scoots closer, rests his head on the other's shoulder. Halfway through the movie Jimin's running his fingers through Jeongguk's hair and he's drifting to sleep.

With the last vestige of his awareness he mumbles a nearly incoherent question that goes something like, "did you put the banana milk in the fridge? I dun' want it to go bad."

Jimin huffs, chest vibrating with laughter. "You're such a kid," he repeats. "Of course I put them in the fridge."

Jeongguk's pretty sure that Jimin is the best hyung ever. Don't tell Hoseok that though.

Halloween is the most pointless holiday in Jeongguk's opinion, and honestly he'd prefer to stay home and play some video games until he passes out because the last thing he wants to deal with is drunk college students in skimpy outfits that barely pass as costumes. But Hoseok, on the other hand, is stupidly passionate about any holiday (although Jeongguk is ninety-nine percent sure that his friend just wants a valid reason to get ridiculously plastered). When Hoseok first asks Jeongguk to come to his party, Jeongguk doesn't miss a beat and answers with a firm, "hell no."

And that should be it—except it really isn't because over the next few days Hoseok begs him to come, even when Jeongguk starts to become visibly annoyed he doesn't let up. As Halloween approaches he turns into more of a petulant child throwing a tantrum.

"But why?" he whines for the millionth time. "It'll be so fun. Don't you want to hang out with your hyung?"

Jeongguk fixes him with a glare. "I see you practically everyday!"

"But you love me and I'm your bestest friend."

"Parties aren't my thing," he insists, even if the last so-called party he'd gone to involved prepubescent boys throwing rocks at each other. High school was awful and Jeongguk was too shy and awkward. He was the kind of student that other kids would invite to parties only to humiliate and he was never stupid enough to go in the first place.

Hoseok huffs and has the audacity to look upset. "Fine," he grumbles and Jeongguk thinks that he's finally gotten off the hook, but then Hoseok pouts for three days straight and is constantly shooting him looks of utter betrayal and despair. Makes off-hand, petty jibes like, "I can't believe my very own best friend isn't going to my party."

And Jeongguk know that he shouldn't feel guilty because Hoseok is the kind of person who has a million bff's, but he does anyways because he's, well, himself, and Jeongguk lives in a perpetual state of feeling guilty about everything anyways. He agrees to come on the condition that he doesn't have to dress up and Hoseok practically smothers him in his excitement, tells Jeongguk that he doesn't have to wear a silly costume if he doesn't want to.

When the dreadful night finally arrives, Jeongguk is more than a little nervous. Never once has he ever thought that he'd be going to a college party—but then again, he never thought that he'd even make it to college in the first place. And while he refuses to wear a costume, he doesn't want to look like a complete disaster either. He spends two hours fretting over what to wear because what the fuck do people wear to parties? Hoseok had told him to not overdo it and just come casual, but honestly he's not even sure what that means.

Eventually, he decides on a pair of skinny jeans and a black t-shirt with a deep v-line. Looks at himself in the mirror and still feels out of place so he googles how to apply eyeliner and spends the next half hour poking his eye out a million times before he's got a somewhat decent smokey effect going. He curses, eyes burning. Tilts his head back and tries to blink away the tears that had gathered because no way is he ruining his makeup. After he deems his appearance to be not a complete mess he throws the eyeliner straight into the trash and promises to never put himself through that kind of suffering ever again.

By the time Jeongguk arrives (exactly an hour late because Wiki How had told him that cool people don't arrive on time) the party is already in full swing. Even from outside the complex he can hear the distant sounds of shouting and muffled music. He hesitates at the lobby entrance, pulls his jacket tighter around his frame and takes a deep breath. He can do this. He can totally do this.

The elevator ride up to the fifth floor takes too long and he finds his anxiety growing as he watches the floor numbers light up. And as the elevator door dings and opens, he's immediately hit by the vibration of the bass and the music is terribly loud. Hoseok's door is opened and students are spilling out into the hallway, red solo cups in hand. Jeongguk is more than tempted to just leave, but Hoseok is god damn lucky that Jeongguk would practically do anything for him.

He forces himself to take a step forward, and then another until he's out of the lift. His pace is hurried and he ends up bumping into one too many people just trying to get down the hallway and trips over his own foot. When he finally forces himself into the apartment, the inside is over crowded and hazy. The music rattles his skull and he's already feeling a little dizzy. He's not sure exactly what he's supposed to do and the only knowledge he has about parties are from movies. He scans the room, tries to find a familiar face and panics when there's no sign of Hoseok. The usual comfort he feels by being in his friend's apartment absent and replaced by anxiety. This was an awful idea. Why did he ever agree to this?

Jeongguk's just about to scurry to an empty corner of the living room and make himself as small as possible when a body quite nearly slams into his side and causes him to nearly topple over. He steadies himself, turns with wide eyes to find the offender—the very asshole who had forced him to attend this party.

"Gukkie!" Hoseok practically screams into his ear. Wraps an arm around his neck, practically strangling him to death with how hard he's squeezing. "You came!"

Jeongguk scrunches his nose, the smell of alcohol on Hoseok's breath revolting. "How drunk are you?"

"'m not even that drunk." He jerks Jeongguk around and his eyes are nearly bulging straight out of his head with how he's being manhandled. "I jus' missed you. My sweet lil Gukkie." And then, in all of his drunkenness, Hoseok has the nerve to boop his nose. "You're so cute." He giggles. "Wanna protect you forever."

"Okay hyung." Jeongguk's tone is dry and he's trying not to show any obvious signs of being annoyed, but in truth he's quite miffed at the fact that the only person he knows at this stupid party is wasted off of his ass already. He's not good at dealing with unfamiliarity and this whole thing is overwhelming.

"Are you mad?" Hoseok asks, breath hot on Jeongguk's cheek. The crestfallen expression on his face makes Jeongguk feel bad for being angry.

"I just wish that you had waited for me," he mutters even though he knows it's his fault for arriving an hour late. Screw WikiHow. He's never trusting that site again.

"I'll make it up to you," Hoseok promises. Wobbles on his feet and Jeongguk steadies him.

"It's okay. Don't let me ruin your fun." Because that's exactly what it feels like he's doing—like everyone is clearly trying to have a good time but Jeongguk is bitter and unsociable. He's still that weird kid from high school that never got invited to anything.

He's about to tell Hoseok that he's just going to leave and will text him tomorrow, but then Hoseok almost takes Jeongguk's head clean off when he jumps and yells, "Jiminie! Taehyungie!" and Jeongguk freezes.

Both of them are dressed up in costumes. Jimin's wearing a police uniform and he looks mighty good in it. The material tight around his thighs. It hugs his shape nicely, showing off the curves of his ass and if he wasn't like a brother to Jeongguk, he would have totally popped a boner.

When he turns look at Taehyung he nearly stops breathing. Tries to tear his eyes away and not think about what he's wearing but he can't. The devil horns. The choker. His outfit, completely black; leather of his pants even tighter than Jimin's. Every inch of his legs prominent and enticing. Their eyes meet and Jeongguk notices that he's wearing yellow lenses. Eye makeup red and smokey and—is that lipgloss? Taehyung's expression is intense and Jeongguk isn't sure whether his heart is in his stomach or his dick. Just knows that Taehyung makes him feel like shit about himself and dizzy at the same time. Just knows that Taehyung looks like a predator ready to devour him and Jeongguk doesn't think that he could say no.

"Dude you're fucking trashed." It's Jimin who breaks their heated stare off and Jeongguk instantly blushes and averts his gaze.

"Let go of Jeongguk," Jimin scolds. "You're going to choke him out, hyung."

"N-nuh!" Hoseok holds on even tighter, bottom lip jutting out like he's going to cry. "I dun' wanna."

Jimin looks mildly irritated. Huffs and tries to yank Hoseok away. "You're being ridiculous."

"Am not."

"You're drunk!"

"Oh yeah?" Hoseok glares. "And how do I know that you're not the drunk one and this isn't you jus' trying to gaslight me, huh? Check and mate."

Jimin looks completely baffled. "What the—"

"I don't wanna leave Gukkie!" Hoseok all but wails.

The next thirty seconds consist of Jimin attempting to pry Jeongguk away from Hoseok's death grip and Hoseok screaming at the top of his lungs. Jeongguk has basically been turned into a ragdoll at this point and he's just about ready to accept the fact that this is how he dies when Hoseok finally relents, but that's only because he bends over the nearest plant to vomit in it. Jimin acts quickly. Rubs soothing circles on his back as he continues to throw up, and Jeongguk doesn't understand how the fuck their friend is so wasted this early into the night.
Jimin turns to give Jeongguk an apologetic, knowing look. "I'm gonna take him to the bathroom to sober up. You okay being alone?" his eyes flicker to Taehyung and Jeongguk knows exactly what he's asking.

Is he going to be okay with Taehyung?

Jeongguk tries to give a reassuring smile. Says, "it's fine, hyung." Knows that it's not fine. Knows that anxiety is already burning a hole through his stomach like acid. He hasn't seen much of Taehyung within the last couple of months, despite it being his newfound mission to clear things up. But the thing is, Jeongguk has no clue how to approach him. Can't open his mouth without stuttering and feeling overwhelmed. How can he fix things when he's such a coward?

Jimin shoots one last apology before he's dragging Hoseok out of the living room. The two of them are left to stand there awkwardly, and even if there are dozens of people around them it feels as if they're the only ones left. Taehyung is the only person he's aware of. Feels everything around them fade until it's just Taehyung. Taehyung. Taehyung.

Shouldn't Jeongguk say something? Like, hi how are you? Shouldn't he do something but stare at the ugly painting on Hoseok's wall? But where does he start? Where the fuck does he start? All of his life, Jeongguk has only ever known how to run but now he's expected to slow down and face his past for the first time in his life. But the thing is, he doesn't know how to stop when the brakes have been cut and he's been speeding down a hill for eight years waiting for the end. The crash. Waiting for the moment that his body is catapulted out of the windshield because he'd stopped wearing a seatbelt long ago. Waiting for the moment when he's laying on the asphalt, gazing up at the stars and will think, finally. Finally.

But they're all just excuses and the truth is that he's scared to look back. Scared to turn around and find that there really isn't anything left for him to salvage. Scared that there'll be nothing left but an endless, gaping chasm of black nothingness. What if it's too late? What if Taehyung's already on the other side, walking away?

"Do you wanna grab a drink from the kitchen?" Taehyung offers. "It's too crowded here." He doesn't sound as awkward as Jeongguk feels. Just casual.

"Sure," he mumbles.

They head to the kitchen. Taehyung leaned against the counter and Jeongguk against the stove. The knobs poking into his back but he doesn't care. He just wants to create as much space as he can between them in this tiny area. Taehyung pours some liquor that Jeongguk's never heard of into red solo cups. When he hands one to Jeongguk their fingers accidentally brushes and Jeongguk feels a zap all the way down to his toes. Fearing that Taehyung will notice, he doesn't even think about what he's doing, just tilts the cup back and takes several huge gulps out of nervousness.

Big mistake.

Jeongguk begins to cough heavily. The foul aftertaste and burning sensation almost makes him throw it all back up.

Taehyung just looks at him strangely. "You aren't supposed to chug moonshine like that."
Jeongguk blushes, wipes his tingling lips on the back of his hand. "I-I've never drank before," he admits after he's managed to stop coughing.

Taehyung laughs but immediately stops when he sees Jeongguk's serious expression. His brows shoot up. "Wait, are you being serious?"

Jeongguk nods, feels his cheeks heating up further like a blushing virgin. The alcohol's already starting to hit him and he feels a bit woozy. "Was never the kind of person people invited to parties."

"But you were so popular." Taehyung doesn't sound mean when he says it, just slightly taken aback. "Everyone would break their backs just to talk to you."

Jeongguk thinks of the kids from middle school and how after Taehyung left, suddenly no one wanted to be around him anymore. He remembers how Mingyu had punched him square in the face a few days after he had blamed Jeongguk for everything and had told him that he was gross. That they didn't want to hang out with someone like him.

"It's bad for our reputation. Being around someone that almost killed another person."

Jeongguk still remembers it all.

He remembers how after middle school the torment only got worse. That was when his perception of the world twisted into something ugly and he was no longer the twelve-year-old boy who dreamed of being a firefighter. An astronaut. An inventor. Instead he became lesser. Smaller. That was when the innocent, childlike light in his eyes died and smiling became a chore. Getting out of bed in the morning became a challenge.

Jeongguk remembers Jungho from ninth grade. Beautiful, mature and smart. The boy who sat in front of him. Shoulders broader than his own and he remembers what it was like to kiss Jungho.

When Jeongguk was fourteen, he discovered that he was gay.

It's a venomous moment and he's so close to telling Taehyung everything. That he's sorry. That he's suffered for eight years with third degree burns. Has lived life more like a car crash than anything else. That his knees are scraped and raw and his insides are bleeding. How does he get rid of all the bad in him? Jeongguk doesn't know how. Doesn't know how to scoop it all out and start again. It's like mold growing between walls and it's festered for too long. Leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

He almost tells Taehyung because he's drunk and in love with someone who hates him. Almost.

"Things change," he mutters. Brings the cup to his lips but doesn't drink it.

"Feels like we've had this conversation before," Taehyung says. He sounds regretful.

"Do you still think that people can't change?" he asks. Alcohol gives him courage and he's holding his breath.

Taehyung's stare is intense and Jeongguk looks to the grimy white tiled flooring instead and thinks that Hoseok needs to clean his kitchen.

"Not really," he says. "You can't change who you are at your very core. A tiger never changes its stripes and all."

Jeongguk feels himself plummeting. Confidence deflating. Of course. Of fucking course.

He opens his mouth, tries to say something. Tries to tell Taehyung that he's changed. Or at least that he's trying his damn hardest to be a better person. But the distance between them, the way it swallows everything—it becomes too much. Why did he ever even allow himself to have hope in the first place?

Taehyung looks at Jeongguk like he's gotten him all figured out. Leans against the counter and crosses his arms over his chest. Jeongguk stares at the exposed skin of his collarbones and wonders how someone can be so beautiful, yet cruel at the same time. How someone can hold so much power over him. And more than anything, he wishes that he could take back the emptiness he gave Taehyung. The hollow space he created inside of the other boy's chest. All of the cruel words he didn't mean because he didn't know how to accept himself. He wishes he could take it all back.

He wants to open himself up and say, look, I'm just as damaged as you are. Let the inky blackness seep out so that Taehyung can see that he's paid for his mistakes and he still is. He still is.

But he can't.

"I didn't know you and Jimin were so cozy with each other," Taehyung comments offhandedly. He sounds a little bothered, like he can't quite believe it himself and Jeongguk feels his insides shrivel up.

"Yeah. We made up." He's starting to pick at the skin around his nails again, something he hasn't done in weeks. Not since Jimin had put Iron Man bandaids over his raw fingers and bought him a stress ball.

"I see." Taehyung's frowning slightly and Jeongguk feels all hot and cold at once.

"Do you really hate me that much?" Jeongguk blurts out and he's dizzy. The floor underneath him shifts again. Stupid Jeongguk and his stupid mouth.

Even on a night like this, when the city is alive and there's adrenaline coursing through everyone's bodies, Jeongguk is incapable of speaking a truth so dangerous it could crush them both in the way that he's destroyed himself, and that is only right. Taehyung is too good for being crushed.

Jeongguk waits. Holds his breath again. Feels the blood running through his veins not akin to excitement, but anxiety like the last ounce of oxygen in the room. It's as if he's made of livewires and he knows that this can only end badly. He can only make it worse.

Doesn't even look up when Taehyung says softly, defeatedly, "I don't know."

The world stops. Everything shifts and oh—there it is, the wide mouth of a storm. The brief second of silence. Of acceptance. This is who you are.

Jeongguk will always be a monster. It shouldn't bother him because he knows this. Even if Taehyung or his classmates hadn't been around to tell him, his father pressed it into his skin when he was fourteen and kissed a boy for the first time.

"Look closely," his father had growled. Grip bruising. "This is what happens when boys kiss other boys. Don't forget it."

Jeongguk lifts a shaky hand up to his neck. He'll never forget. Never.

Taehyung's saying something but Jeongguk can't hear anything past the ringing in his ears. Even the music is muffled and he feels disoriented. Nauseous, even. Which way is down and which way is up? He feels too much at once and yet the hollowness in his chest expands into a blackhole. The walls feel like they're closing in on him and Jeongguk has to get out of here. Now. He stumbles out of the kitchen, trips over a rug, but somehow manages to push past the crowd and out onto the balcony. It's empty save for one person finishing a cigarette who goes back inside as soon as they see him.

He tries to get a grip on himself but he can't breathe. God, he can't fucking breathe.

He slides down against the railing. His bottom harshly hitting the ground. And it should be better because he's outside and away from people and it's quiet out here, but he's not. He's not. He curls in on himself, grabs at his hair and tugs harshly because pain usually brings him back down, but the sting of his scalp isn't enough this time. He's drowning. Sinking, sinking, sinking. His lungs burn—oh god, they burn and there's no one here to save him. He's stuck in this darkness alone with the ghosts of his past with no way out.

Jeongguk doesn't remember the last time he had an episode this bad.

For years, Jeongguk has left everything on the back burner for it all to pile up, and now he's wondering where did all of this come from? He used to eat three square meals a day, was the star of his school's soccer team. He was supposed to be someone. Where did all of this bad come from?

If you slap a jester's hat on the monster in the closet it ceases to be scary but to itself, it will still be a monster. If he opens his palms he closes them instantly because he doesn't like the ugliness he sees. The neon light leaks through his pores and he ceases to be bright.

He wants to let go.