Jeongguk isn't hungry at all, but in case Hoseok hasn't had breakfast and wants something to eat, he drives to a nearby diner rather than the coffee shop he and Taehyung usually go to.

For a weekend morning, it's not too busy. The boys are seated soon after arrival.

Around them the moderate chattering of guests continues as they remain silent. There are several ceiling fans spinning at a gradual pace, producing a soft whirring noise along with the air they circulate. It's a peaceful atmosphere. But Jeongguk feels anything but peace at the moment.

In just a few minutes, a young woman approaches their table with a smile on her face and a small notepad in her hand. "Can I get you two anything to drink?"

"Coffee is fine," Hoseok replies blandly. "Jeongguk?"

"I'll have water."

"Coffee and water, gotcha." The waitress glances at both boys. "Take your time with the menus, alright? I'll be right back with your drinks."

She leaves. Jeongguk watches Hoseok lazily scan the menu.

"Are you ordering anything to eat, Guk?"

"Ah, no, not me...I ate earlier."

"Mm."

"What about you?"

"Something small, I'm not too hungry right now."

Again, they wait in silence. Their waitress from earlier returns soon enough with a mug of coffee and a cup of water. She cheerfully takes Hoseok's order, double-checks with a Jeongguk to make sure he doesn't want anything, and leaves again to deliver the order to the diner's cooks - two eggs and a side of fried potatoes. Simple, so it doesn't take long before it's dropped off at their table.

Hoseok appears less in the mood to eat once his food is in front of him.

"...Jimin's been living with his aunt and uncle for almost three years."

Jeongguk looks at the other boy curiously.

"It doesn't feel like it's been three years...not to me, certainly not to him."

Hoseok picks at the potatoes on his plate, eyes traveling over to the coffee on his left side. Jeongguk says nothing. Anxiously, he curls his toes inside his boots, clenching his teeth, wanting to ask questions, but convincing himself that he shouldn't.

"I don't really know the best way to explain it all," Hoseok says after a moment. His eyelids look heavy. "I guess I could start by asking if you've heard of the clothing brand Cherrish?"

"I think so." Jeongguk purses his lips, puzzled by the question. "They're expensive, aren't they?"

"It's high-end, so yeah."

The boy pauses to take a sip of his coffee.

"This woman named Song Nari used to run the company. Beautiful woman, she's been on the cover of magazines, in articles, online, printed, whatever."

"I don't recognize the name."

"But you've seen her, I'm sure," Hoseok says with confidence. He reaches into his pocket to take out his phone, taps at the screen for a minute, then slides it across the table after turning it the other direction.

Jeongguk drops his gaze to the phone. Surely enough, the picture of the woman Hoseok brought up does spark a memory, somewhat vague, but enough to make the boy realize he has seen her before.

"Familiar?"

He nods, then pushes the phone back. Hoseok takes it.

"She's been on TV a lot, too, so it's probably less common to not recognize her."

"But why are you telling me this?"

"She's Jimin's mother."

Jeongguk feels his chest tighten in discomfort at the solemn tone these words are spoken. He stares inquisitively at the other. "Does she work abroad?" He asks. "Is that why Jimin doesn't live with her?"

No immediate response. Jeongguk holds his thoughts at the tip of his tongue as he listens to Hoseok's breathing become unsteadier.

"Jimin's parents lost custody of him three years ago."

"Why?"

"Because," Hoseok began, his voice sharp, "they're despicable people. Despicable, worthless, undeserving people who have never, never done anything good for Jimin. Especially his mother. That awful excuse for a human being she is."

His words bleed with such a strong, vivid rage that leaks through into his expression which, until this moment, has managed to remain relatively calm. But now Jeongguk can see the veins on his head trying to burst.

It's a deep-rooted anger blended with an even deeper sorrow. A painful thing to witness, just as it is to experience.

"It's not Jimin's fault," Hoseok goes on, voice nearly cracking as it shakes. "It was never his fault. It was always his mother. She was a business woman, through and through, and the worst kind, because she was a perfectionist. A manipulative demon. From the time she gave birth to Jimin she's been planting things in his head. She had a vision in mind for him. And no one, no one could change her visions."

"Did she...force him into modeling?"

"Oh, she wanted to," Hoseok answers, choking out the bitterest laugh Jeongguk has ever heard. "That was her goal, after all. To have her only son get into modeling, to carry on her legacy, to be this picturesque young man who people could look at and say, 'oh, that's Song Nari's boy.' But she's a perfectionist, like I said. It wasn't enough to just dress Jimin up and throw him in front of a camera. He had to fit her ideals."

He stops again. Just to breathe, by the looks of it, as it's obvious to Jeongguk the boy is getting worked up over all this. So he's patient with him. As patient as he can be.

"Jimin's always gained weight pretty easily," Hoseok continues. He drags his hand across the table to wrap around his coffee mug. "Even when he was born, he was really chubby. But he was a baby, that's how he was born, there's not much you can do, not much you should do, anyway. It's just baby fat. But as he got older, Jimin was still a little heavier than most kids. But not overweight, he's never been overweight...it's just his body type, and his metabolism, you know? It's different for a lot of people."

"Of course."

"Nothing wrong with that, right?"

Jeongguk shakes his head.

"Yeah, well, that's not how his mother saw it."

"She verbally abused him, didn't she?"

"No, that's just the thing." Hoseok looks up to meet Jeongguk's gaze assertively. "She never used to yell. She spoke sweetly to him, in this kind, motherly tone of voice, just to manipulate the poor kid. I've heard her. She'd say things like 'my sweet boy, you'd be perfect for mommy if you just fixed this. You'd have the perfect face for modeling if it were just a little thinner, if you were just a little thinner, but you can fix that, can't you? Won't you do that for me, sweetheart?' And not just once or twice, she'd been saying stuff like this for years. Gradually picking at his brain to make him think the only way he could be accepted, the only way he could be enough for her was if he fit her ideals."

His lips quiver. Jeongguk holds his breath again.

"But he couldn't do it." Hoseok exhales. "Jimin could never do it, I grew up with him, watching him try, watching him practically deteriorate all because he kept on failing what his mother wanted him to do. What she wanted him to be. It's become rooted so far down in his mind I don't know if I could ever change...if, if I could ever do anything to make him understand...he's still beautiful..."

At the bit of silence that follows his words, Hoseok hangs his head. There's more he has to say, Jeongguk can feel it, so for just a minute longer he watches his friend, feeling his own heart being pulled down with every second.

"The day Nari finally lost her patience with Jimin was the day their neighbors called the police. I think...they had noticed something off about the whole situation for a while. The kids Jimin's age who tried to speak with him, and even their parents who spoke with Jimin and asked him about Nari... They could tell something was wrong. So the day she first lost her temper with him...is when the matter was 'fixed'. And I was there when it happened. I...I was the one who told them to call the police. Me, the neighbors, Jimin, his parents...we were all questioned. And in the end both Nari's actions and her husband's lack of actions fell under the category of child abuse..."

"...and they lost custody of him."

Repeating what Hoseok had already said earlier only triggered the boy's tears to finally surface. Without hesitation he covers his eyes as if to hide them from Jeongguk. It's pointless, Hoseok soon seems to realize, as the mere appearance of tears soon turns to a bitter and heartbroken whimpering.

Pure devastation. Jeongguk endures the sound of Hoseok's poorly restrained crying, his own minor headache, and now the unbearable emotional pain he feels for Jimin's sake.

It hurts to know.

To think that Jimin could have learned to accept himself a long time ago if it weren't for her.

"Hoseok, I'm sorry."

"For?"

"That time I asked you what's wrong with Jimin. I never meant it in that way."

"I know you didn't, Jeongguk. It's okay...it's okay..."

The two sit in the diner for a little while longer, Hoseok attempting to eat at least some of his breakfast as Jeongguk drinks his water. The latter offers to pay for his friend's meal, as well as drive Hoseok home afterwards, unless he had plans to go somewhere else. He doesn't. So Jeongguk goes through with his offer and drops his friend off at his house, but not before hugging him goodbye.

It's not even noon yet. There's more than half the day ahead of him.

Jeongguk drives to the nearest floral shop in the area. Using the rest of the cash in his wallet, he purchases a bouquet of roses and places them carefully in his car not wanting a single petal to break off.

No intrusive or discouraging thoughts deter him from heading directly to Jimin's house and knocking at the door. He waits. Bouquet held preciously in his hands, Jeongguk waits. His heart in an ocean of tears, he waits.

Jimin's aunt answers the door. Her expression displays a noticeable level of sadness, but she puts on a soft smile at the sight of the boy.

"You're here for Jimin."

Jeongguk nods.

"He won't come out of his room, but you're welcome to go up to him. Do you want me to get you a vase for those?"

"I'd appreciate that. Thank you, ma'am."

She disappears into the next room and soon returns with a glass vase partially filled with water, holding it out as Jeongguk places the flowers inside. Then, with soft footsteps, the boy walks through the living room, up the stairs, and to the bedroom Jimin's aunt informed him belongs to the boy. It's closed, so he knocks. No answer, but he opens it.

He finds Jimin lying on his bed, back turned towards the door. From where Jeongguk stands he can see the boy tightly hugging a stuffed animal close to his chest. A blanket is loosely pulled over his body.

"Jimin?"

No response.

Jeongguk sets the vase of roses on Jimin's dresser. Sitting carefully on the edge of the bed, he pours his tearful gaze over Jimin before ever so delicately leaning in to press a kiss to the boy's cheek.

"I know you're awake, but I won't ask you to talk to me. I just wanted to tell you, Jimin, that I think all your mirrors are broken. And there's no rush, but...I'm gonna help you repair them. Just let me learn how."

—