Friday the 9th, Nov 2018

Namjoon couldn’t choose between the black pen and the blue pen. He peered at them hard from the opening of his stationeries case, and they stared back at him in persistent vigour.

It began to seem as though his eyes were going to leave his head and create home with the pens in the case, and so Taehyung smacked his shoulder, hand itching in irritation.

‘You aren’t diffusing a bomb, Joon. Pick a pen, for God’s sake.’

Namjoon looked at his friend, pain woven between the strands of his eyebrows. Then he looked down into his case again, eyes sullen.

Taehyung pushed Joon’s face out of the way and picked the blue pen. His eyes bore into his friend’s with a vexed fire.

‘There. Good now?’

Namjoon nodded, and then threw his head back to rest on the top of his seat.

Taehyung rolled his eyes. ‘It’s just a small assessment. It’s not that much of a big deal.’

Namjoon sighed, his eyes tracing the lines of the ceiling. ‘I know.’ He raised his head and brought it down gently onto the table. ‘But I’m not even five lines into my project yet. How am I supposed to fill an impromptu report on the process of completing it?’

Taehyung gave his friend a once over. Sighing, he brought a hand out and gently pat his back.

Namjoon involuntarily sniffed. ‘I should speak with Yoongi.’

Taegyung raised an eyebrow in surprise. ‘You haven’t? I thought you said you would about two weeks ago?’

‘I did’, Joon breathed, and looked up from the table and down at his hands. His left fingers repeatedly ran over his right. ‘But I procrastinated.’

Taehyung’s eyebrows went down in a look of sarcastic realisation. ‘No surprise there.’

Namjoon gave him a pointed look. ‘Don’t act all high class. You were once like me.’

‘Yeah, until Jin’s fatherly nagging tore my ear off, and I had to sew it back.’ Taehyung gave a simper. ‘Cave in. Admit it. I am your glow up.’

Namjoon wished to lunge at the raven haired and give his cheeky face a good smack, but he sufficed with a steady glare.

The mocking smile still stitched unto his lips, Tae put his hands up in surrender.

Namjoon gingerly span his gaze back to his blue pen on the assessment sheet. His eyes ran over the serial number printed at the top left, and down past the empty lines to the bottom right, where the page number sat. He slid both paper and pen to the side with a resolved sigh, and his head dropped unconventionally back unto the table.

Taehyung gave his friend yet another once over. Then he reached into his back pocket and brought his phone out. It was three minutes to 11’o clock. He glided a finger gently through his call log and tapped on Jin’s number.

The phone rang behind them.

Namjoon slowly raised his head, showing his scrunched eyebrows. Taehyung turned to the back, gaze determinately beginning a scan of the seats. A waving hand abruptly caught his eye.

There, sat three rows above, was Jin.

Taehyung raised an eyebrow at him.

Namjoon’s mouth dropped open.

Jin got up and picked his bag, before sliding out his row and descending to meet the others at theirs. He glided past a few chairs, and then sat with a plop beside Taehyung.

The twenty-two year old stared at him, one eyebrow still raised in questioning.

Namjoon’s mouth moved to ask a question.

‘Did you not...?’

Jin shook his head, understanding without the need for the rest of the sentence. ‘I arrived earlier than you both, and I thought it’d be interesting to see how you look to everyone else when you have your unnecessary banter.’

Taehyung blinked, and both his eyes inquiringly widened.

Namjoon’s mouth remained the same width.

Jin cleared his throat. ‘You both looked interesting.’ Then he strained his lips with a smile wider than the curved handle of an umbrella.

Namjoon closed his mouth and rapidly shook his head, as though clearing Jin’s words like he would some useless thought.

Taehyung reached forward and tapped the pockets of Jin’s pants.

‘Got any bonbons in here?’

Jin smacked his hand away. ‘Don’t you still have a generous lot?’

Taehyung leaned back and grinned. ‘I do.’ His teeth peeped sheepishly from smiling lips. ‘But adding more to the pack would make it last much longer than it should.’

Jin eyed him with disapproval.

‘Chipmunk’, mused Joon, shaking his head.

The professor walked in and took over.

--

Fridays were like Wednesdays, in that classes were over in no time; but instead of voluntary customs, mandatory work sat on the evening hours of the day. At least, for Jin.

After lunch, where Taehyung had gone back to the dorms to pack a bag he’d need for a weekend at home, and Namjoon had sped to one of the free halls for a group meeting, Jin had made his way on a bus to Flour Cloud, where he was meant to be for the evening.

Being in the month of November meant that the holidays were approaching, and the bakery had reds and silvers and golds added to its catalogue of hues.

Not greens, though. Flour Cloud already had enough of those.

Goods left the racks by the minute as customers flew in and out, and by the end of his shift, Jin felt as though the metallic screech of the cash register had been etched onto his brain.

He and Eunmi spent their last minutes together at the bus stop, as situational circumstances called for, and this time, Jin didn’t have to wonder why she didn’t get on with him when the bus arrived, because the reason presented itself from the cache of memories in his head.

As Eunmi watched the bus leave behind its path in time, she found herself ground her perplexities in surety.

--

From someone’s phone came the soft tones of a ballad, drifting through the ambiance in the bus and stroking the ears of its occupants.

Jin knew the song. He liked the song. But the familiar rhythm crushed his heart in a way that only he could explain, and so he squeezed his eyes shut and had his thumbs rub over his tightly clenched fists, wishing the quicker manifestation of the next bus stop.

The sky looked down overhead, the moon solemn in observation. There were no stars to serve company to the moon that night; but loneliness was a feeling forbidden in the vastness of space above, so the chalk cratered sphere conversed with the silk swart drape in words shielded from the earth by the clouds.

Jin all but flung himself out the bus when it finally came to a halt, and he took quick steps that drew him closer to his apartment.

He went up the elevator and down the corridor to his door, punching the code and throwing himself in as soon as it got unlocked.

Jin stilled at the intersection between the kitchen area and the way to his room. His hands flew to grip his hair, his chest heaving to control his uneven breaths. Minutes passed where he stood, and soon he sighed, dropping his hands from his head. He was about to turn to walk the latter’s way, but stopped when he felt a vibration from within his bag.

It was his phone.

With a call from Dad.

Jin's feet chilled and his eyes went large. His breaths acted again, uneven raps against his chest. For a moment, he watched the animation of colours on the screen. Then he brought his thumb down and tapped on the green button.

His voice shook.

‘Hello?’

‘Seokjin. I’m really sorry I didn’t call earlier.’

A kind resolute voice, deep and strong; fatigue, worry and hope smothered layers underneath. Jin felt his hands clam up. He wiped the one without the phone on his khakis.

‘It’s alright. I’m ok.’

He heard the man sigh, and the creak of a chair, as though he was setting himself down on it.

‘Your mom told me about your call the other time, and I’ve been meaning to talk with you ever since, even for a little while; but I’ve been so busy that I couldn’t pick up the phone and scroll far enough to find your number.’

Jin wiped his hand on his trousers again. He felt the patch start to get a little damp.

‘It’s ok,’ he said, really softly, and moved his other hand to his face to hold his phone, so both hands gripped the device. ‘I... understand. Really.’

The man sighed, but Jin could feel the breeze of a smile at the edge.

‘How are you doing?’

‘I’m alright.’

‘Just that?’

Jin scratched at his left eyebrow. ‘Not much happens with a University student.’

His father laughed. ‘I see.’

Jin coughed a chuckle.

‘And Namjoon and Taehyung?’

‘They’re alright too. It goes for them pretty much the same way it goes for me.’ Jin felt heat climb up his chest, but he sent it back down with a thick swallow.

‘Ah. Well I guess that’s alright. Do tell them I said hello.’

One of Jin’s hands gently pried itself off his phone and fell to his side. ‘I will.’

There was silence for the space of about three seconds. Jin counted.

‘Your mother says hi. She’s watching me from the kitchen with that face. You know the face.’

Jin felt the heat again.

‘I... send her my love.’

His father raised his voice to relay a message that comprised Jin’s love.

‘She wants to say hello too, but she feels it’d be taking away time for just us both. But she sends her love too.’

Jin involuntarily nodded.

‘It’s late. You must want to rest.’

Jin shook his head, forgetting he couldn’t be seen. ‘It’s ok.’

‘Let’s talk again later. I’ll try my best.’

Jin nodded. His second hand went up to grip his phone again, alongside the other.

‘I— I love you?’

Soft laughter floated from off the speaker.

‘Why do you say it as a question?’

Jin looked down at the tiled floors for a second or so, his eyebrows crumpling and his teeth pulling at his upper lip. His second hand went down to pull at the corner of his sweater.

The laughter came forth again.

‘I love you, Seokjin.’ A pause, and then at a louder volume. ‘Maybe even more than your mother does.’

He heard a playful yell at the background, and more stomach-jittering laughter.

‘Thank you’, Jin spoke, barely above a whisper.

His father's voice grew soft again. ‘What are you thankful for?’

Jin stared straight at the wall in front of him. More seconds trod past in silence.

‘Goodnight. Take care.’

His father eluded warmth. He could hear the thickness of the sigh he let out— he almost could feel it prodding at his ear.

‘Take care, son.’

He blinked.
‘Ok.’

And the line fell asleep.

Jin’s gaze ate up the wall for a while more, before lowering to suck up his phone’s screen. He read the word Dad repeatedly, more seconds skipping by the triple into oblivion.

Then the phone tumbled out of his hand, and he crumbled to the floor, because his knees gave out and his breath jammed.

His eyes spilled.