The next day coming to school, Jimin felt anxious. Once again, Yoongi's words were on his mind and they just wouldn't leave. And it was frustrating, of course, but in a different way this time. Because Jimin actually pondered them instead of immediately trying to shoo away the troubling thoughts.

"I wanna teach you how to show your colors."

He still couldn't believe Yoongi had said that to him, that he even thought about offering help to a person who had so greatly wronged him. Granted, Jimin didn't quite know what Yoongi meant by what he said, but the fact that he was trying to help at all was...odd.

Jimin entered his classroom first thing upon arriving at school in the morning. He lazily slid into his desk, dropped his school bag next to him, and took out his phone to kill time.

Several minutes later, who should walk in but the pastel boy, Jungkook in tow, and upon passing by Jimin's desk, Yoongi subtly slipped a small piece of paper that did not go unnoticed by the boy meant to receive it.

Jimin stared at it for a long moment. Then, gradually setting down his phone, he picked up the piece of paper and unfolded it to reveal a number written on the inside, along with a brief message.

|| Don't get the wrong idea, but like if
you don't want people to see us
talking in school or in public, then this is
the only other option I can think of
besides becoming pen pals but that's dumb.
Well, unless you wanted to come over my house, I guess that would work.
Don't worry, I'd be sure to tell my family you're not my boyfriend. ||

Somewhat alarmed by the unexpected situation, Jimin fired a confused and demanding glare in Yoongi's direction, but it went ignored, as the pastel boy seemed already enveloped in a riveting conversation with his friend. In defeat, the orange-haired boy, who was definitely not embarrassed by the last few lines of Yoongi's message, reluctantly inserted the number into his phone and sent the boy a text.

Save this contact as 'pastel boy'?
Yes        No

me:
what's your deal??

Impatient Jimin awaited a response, nervously tapping his foot against the floor as he watched Yoongi react to his phone buzzing in his pocket. He continued to talk casually to Jungkook, though, but to Jimin's relief Yoongi soon took out the device.

pastel boy:
wow, what a welcoming first text
what do u mean by that?

me:
u know wtf I mean
giving me ur number?
and what's with that message

Jimin looked up suddenly when he heard Yoongi snort.

pastel boy:
the message literally explained
y I gave u my # lmao
any more questions?

me:
but
just
why?

pastel boy:
I already told u why
I said I wanted to help u remember?
we'll talk later, class is about to start

me:
but why do u want to help me??

Jimin didn't receive an answer to his text, as right as he sent it, Yoongi had turned off his phone and slipped it back into his pocket. The teacher walked into the classroom. Jimin internally groaned.

This is gonna be a long day, isn't it?

***

"You look less sick today," Namjoon commented, daring to poke his friend's cheek with a chopstick. "Still perturbed, might I say, but at least you don't look like you could vomit right here and now."

Jimin frowned at him, as usual. He chewed his food in silence and tapped his fingers against the table's surface, right next to where he had placed his phone. Yoongi hadn't responded. Was he doing this on purpose? Jimin wondered. His eyes wandered over to Yoongi's table, where the boy was quietly enjoying his lunch as his friends talked amongst themselves. Jimin then returned his attention to his phone, which still sat motionless.

This is stupid. Why did he give me his number?? I hate this, why does that brat always have to be on my mind-

"Okay, something's up with you, Chim."

Jimin looked at his friend. Namjoon was looking back at him with somewhat disappointed eyes, and in an equally disappointed voice, he said, "Something happened between you and him, didn't it? And you just won't tell me. Why won't you tell me anything? I'm your best friend, aren't I, Jimin?"

He almost sounded hurt. And he had every right to be, Jimin thought, but reluctantly. Namjoon was his best friend. His only friend. And lately, Jimin had been anything but a friend to him.

"I'm sorry, I've been really bothered lately."

"I know." Namjoon stifled a laugh. "You don't have to tell me that, buddy. I can tell. I just want details. As much as you'll give me."

As he waited patiently for his friend to speak, Namjoon took the time to shift his gaze towards the pastel boy's table, as Jimin had previously done.

"He knows."

That brief comment, those two small words that might have seemed vague to anyone else, were descriptive enough to Namjoon that he immediately returned his wide-eyed gaze back to Jimin.

"I didn't tell him, I swear, Chim-"

"I know," Jimin said softly. "Somehow, he deciphered it on his own."

"...so is he blackmailing you now?"

"No. Worse. He's offering to help me, and I don't know what to do. Why on earth would he offer to help me?"

"Mm..." Placing his hand on his chin, Namjoon hummed to himself, scanning Jimin's genuinely hopeless expression. "Maybe he likes you~"

This earned Namjoon a firm smack to the head.

"Don't even joke about stuff like that," Jimin hissed, watching in apathy as his friend massaged his new bruise. "I know he hates me. He's gotta have some other motive."

Unintentionally Jimin recalled Yoongi's words.

"If you're looking for me to hate you, Park Jimin, you're going to have to try harder than that."

Oh, shut up, already, I don't feel like dealing with another headache right now...

▫️▫️▫️

When Jimin arrived home, the first thing he did was march right up the stairs and into his room, where he flung his exhausted self onto his bed. Maybe a nap would help. Maybe a nap could ease the headache Yoongi had given him. He hoped, anyway.

To Jimin's surprise, it actually worked. He was able to fall asleep that afternoon and remain sleeping until his younger sister came to his door, knocking quietly, yet it still woke him.

"Jiminie? It's dinnertime, are you hungry?"

Stirring awake, Jimin grunted, lifting his head off his pillow to call out, "Yeah, whatever, I'll be down in a few."

But he ended up falling back asleep again. A few minutes later, his second, more aggressive wake-up call came for him, aka his twenty-year-old brother Jihyun, who felt no shame as he entered Jimin's room without knocking and dragged the younger out of bed by his ankles. Jimin struck the floor with a loud 'thump' which shook every last ounce of sleepiness out of him.

"Dinnertime, Sleeping Beauty~"

"Let go of my foot!" Jimin cried in distress, but his brother just laughed playfully at him.

"You didn't even get a shower, did you? Just slept all day? Was school that bad?"

"I am not having a conversation with you like this." Jimin crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Jihyun who was still holding onto his ankles, smiling.

"Fine." Jihyun released his grip on Jimin. The younger's heels hit the floor hard. In disgruntlement, Jimin rose to his feet and followed Jihyun out of his room and down the stairs to the kitchen. There, his parents and fourteen-year-old sister, Eunji, were already waiting at the table.

"Your hair's atrocious," his mother laughed, reaching over to pat down her son's terrible bedhead. Jimin made a face and sat down next to Eunji, who mimicked her mother's actions and petted Jimin's head. He glared at her, but less harshly. Eunji was too sweet to be legitimately mad at.

"You didn't even get a shower, did you?" She asked. "Was school that bad?"

"Do you and Jihyun rehearse the same lines?"

"What?"

"Nothing."

▫️▫️▫️

After finishing dinner and helping clear the table, Jimin announced he'd be taking his shower and went to do so before anyone else could claim the bathroom. He felt tired again for some reason and considered just going back to sleep again right after showering. So that's what he prepared to do. Changing into a charcoal grey sweatshirt and matching sweatpants (which he hated, mind you, but he didn't really have many other options), Jimin returned to his bedroom and sprawled out on his bed again, this time with his face turned towards the ceiling.

The house was quiet, as usual, with the only sound being the distant noise of running water from Eunji washing the dishes. And Jihyun, lucky for Jimin, was the type to always wear headphones rather than blast his music out loud, so no obnoxious noise came from his room down the hall.

Jimin sighed as he stared at his ceiling fan.

He was about to close his eyes when suddenly his phone buzzed. Already expecting it to be Namjoon, Jimin lazily reached out towards his dresser to pick it up. Then he took one glance at the screen and his eyes shot open.

|| You have (1) new message from pastel boy. ||

He had forgotten that quickly that Yoongi had given him his number. Heart skipping an anxious beat, Jimin opened the message.

pastel boy:
hey, how's it going?

He could feel his hands sweating. This was weird. This was too weird.

me:
fine
why do u ask

pastel boy:
sorry i meant to text earlier, my dad was trying to teach me how to change oil in the car
it was gross
anyway i don't have anything to do now so r u free to talk?
u responded pretty quickly so i'm assuming ur not busy

It sounded so natural. Yoongi sounded so natural, so casual even in his messages; it was like he forgot who he was talking to, or perhaps, didn't care. Again, it puzzled Jimin to no end, but he found it in himself to text back.

me:
i'm not busy

pastel boy:
so u can talk then?

me:
i mean i guess
don't know why u want to tho

pastel boy:
well im bored
and besides i said we'd talk
so whats going on in the park residence
anything interesting?

me:
no
not really

pastel boy:
mm
did u eat dinner

Why is he asking that??

me:
i did

pastel boy:
mm so did i
my sister made bulgogi chicken
shes talented
anyway
if u dont mind me asking, park jimin

For some reason Jimin felt nervous after reading that message, unsure of what Yoongi was going to say next. He gripped his phone tighter and sat up in his bed.

pastel boy:
what do u do in ur free time, huh?
watch movies?
video games?
study?
u can tell me the truth, i won't call u a nerd

Jimin hesitated. Yoongi sent another message before he could even think of what to reply.

pastel boy:
u don't have to tell me if u don't want to tho
im just curious, is all
i mean i know ur situation, or at least to an extent
the whole thing with ur brother and u being afraid to be open and whatnot
but like
idk im just wondering do u have a place or a time u set aside just for yourself
where u can do what u actually want to do

He held his breath. He swore he could hear Yoongi's voice in his head.

pastel boy:
or do u shut yourself away from it altogether?

Jimin felt a small, painful jolt in his chest. Yoongi, once again, had hit the nail on the head, effortlessly, it seemed. And for a moment Jimin started to feel nauseous, but then he recalled the fact that maybe this wasn't so odd. After all, Yoongi claimed Jimin reminded him of how he used to be. So this wasn't really lucky guessing. It was simply connecting-the-dots.

Slowly Jimin typed out a reply.

me:
shutting myself away from it
seemed like the best option
i'd hoped b4 that maybe if i did that i'd
magically lose interest
but seeing u dress the way that u do
and hearing u talk
even the way u jokingly flirted with or just complimented ur friends
i
it was hopeless for me
and i hated that bcuz of u
i couldn't just bury my feelings

pastel boy:
and that's why u bullied me

me:
and thats why i bullied u

In a sense, it had been said before already. But this truly spelled it out. And it hit home for the both of them.

pastel boy:
hey jimin?

me:
what

pastel boy:
tomorrow, after school
at my house
you and me
we're gonna talk about boys