A few days later

"Well," Yoongi began as he looked around his class that were seated on the carpet around him, "Looks like Mrs Moore is out." It was going to be yet another day of Yoongi having to deal with the gremlins alone. The children didn't seem to have any negative emotion towards Mrs Moore's absence; they simply looked up at Yoongi with tiny blinking eyes and blank expressions.

Something about the kids just staring holes into his face made Yoongi nervous. Usually they were pretty rowdy, so their silence irked Yoongi more. With an awkward cough, he quickly grabbed the small note Mrs Moore had left for him and showed it to the children. "Mrs Moore has left us a note so we don't get bored." He told them, pulling it up to his face to read as he squished himself back into his chair.

Show and tell

Hell no. He had hated show and tell, even as a child. It wasn't that it was difficult like maths or physically exhausting like PE – it was just...he had terrible memories attached to it. As he stared at those words, the memory resurfaced in his mind.

"Who would like to bring their item up to show the other children?" Asked Yoongi's 2nd grade teacher as she leaned forward on her chair to address the class. She was a kind, older woman with a short bob of silver hair and purple coloured glasses that she was constantly pushing up her nose bridge. She was honestly Yoongi's favourite.

The small seven year old boy nervously looked around the class of children as he reached his hand up, hoping she would see it. He was known as the shy child in the class and didn't usually like to participate in activities, but this time he had something exciting to show off. His teacher scanned along the group of children until she noticed his little hand. "Yoongi," She gave him a warm smile. "Would you like to show the class what you have for show and tell?"

The boy nodded timidly as he felt the stares of his other classmates piercing into every inch of his tiny figure. A part of him wished he had never put his hand up, but he suppressed it. His father was always ranting to him about how his natural quietness made him weak and often congratulated his half-brother Taehyung because of the simple fact that the boy was an extrovert.

'I need to be more like Taehyung.' Yoongi thought as he walked up to where his teacher was sitting on her chair. He focused on her sincere smile as he approached her, clutching his backpack, and when he got to her chair he turned to the other children. There were so many faces, all staring at him blankly with their blinking little eyes.

Yoongi quickly swashed his brunette fringe out of his face, feeling targeted by all the ogling. Looking towards the ground, he dug into his backpack's pocket to pull out the item he wanted to show. When finally he grasped it, he pulled it out to look at it, hesitating slightly before holding it up for the class to see.

There was silence, and then one laugh. Two laughs. Within seconds, the whole classroom had erupted into loud cackles from the children. Embarrassed, Yoongi's face turned bright red and he took a look at his item again. How was it funny?

In his hand was a small, pink bracelet that he had made with his sister's jewellery beads which he had made it just the night before and was planning to gift it to his teacher. He had wanted to pick a different colour, but his sister only had pink. That didn't change the fact that he had been proud of it when he had made it.

But now, with the children laughing and snickering amongst themselves, the bracelet began looking odd. "Pink is a girl colour!" Giggled one boy from the back of the room, causing the rest of the class to snicker in agreement. Yoongi gulped as he looked at down at his bracelet. It seemed as time had stopped around him, and all that was left was the echoing voices as he focused on the bracelet.

"Children! Stop this!" Yoongi could hear his teacher shout.

"Yoongi made a bracelet! Yoongi made a bracelet!" The chants reverberated in his ears. Yoongi felt hazy, as if he had just been knocked into unconsciousness. His vision began to blur as he stared down at the bracelet, its sparkles going fuzzy as his tears dropped upon it. "Yoongi likes girly things! Yoongi likes girly things!" A new chant sounded. Mortified and feeling as if he wanted to throw up, Yoongi did the only thing he was good at.

He ran.

"Yoongi! Come back!" His teacher called out, her voice drowning in with the chants about him crying.

Flinging open the door of the class, Yoongi didn't bother to look back before fleeing outside.

He ran, and ran, and ran until his tiny lungs begged for air. When finally he stopped by a tree far away from class, he noticed that the small bracelet was still in his shaking hand. Biting his lip to hold back the tears it caused, he fisted his fingers over it and curling his arm back behind his head as far as he could, he hurled the small bracelet away into the horizon. "Stupid bracelet!" He screamed, his voice cracking as a sob tore from his throat.

His father's reaction was worse than the children's. Yoongi was forced to go to his office later that day after school and sit at his desk, while his father quietly poured himself a drink. Yoongi couldn't help feeling intimidated by the bigger, suit clad man. The environment in the office didn't make it any better. Yoongi squished himself into a ball, trying to seem as small as he could.

"My son, the heir of this gang – is making bracelets." His father laughed ironically, pulling the glass of alcohol up to his mouth. Yoongi stared at his back with wide eyes, afraid of any consequence he would face. His father chuckled again and with the shake of his head, he turned to Yoongi. "So you're a jeweller now?" He asked, his teeth gritted into a smile that seemed as if it was closer to a sneer.

Yoongi shook his head with a gulp. "No father."

"Then why did the school call me to say you'd brought a pink bracelet for show and tell?" His father spat out.

Yoongi's hands quickly fisted and rested themselves on his little kneecaps. He inhaled and exhaled quickly, his little heart busting through his chest. "I-I made it for my teacher." He stuttered as he looked down. He could see in his peripheral vision that his father was coming closer and closer to his side.

"Oh, I see." His father hummed. Yoongi thought he seemed awfully calm about the ordeal. Perhaps he is not too mad. Yoongi thought.

However, his assumption was proved wrong when Yoongi felt himself being grasped by the chin and pulled upward to meet his father's face. "How dare you turn this family into a laughing stock?!" His father shouted as he roughly shook his son's face. Horrified, Yoongi tried to pull out of his grasp. "I didn't mean it!" He screeched, looking down at his body that was now being pulled off the chair, dangling in his father's grip.

Yoongi watched like a deer caught in headlights as he saw his father lift his hand, swinging it towards his cheek. As he was unable to pull himself out of his father's grip, he could do nothing but wait for it to hit him. Readying himself for harsh impact, Yoongi shut his eyes tight.

Suddenly, a door swung open. "Hyung." His uncle's voice sounded, and Yoongi felt his father's hand falter as he turned to the door. "There's been an issue."

Within a second, Junwoo let go of his son, allowing the boy to drop and roll unto the carpet. Yoongi slowly opened his eyes to see his father pointing down at him.

"Wait here." With that, the man followed his brother out of the door and left his son whimpering on the ground.

"Mr Sugar!" Raj called, rousing Yoongi from his memories as he shook him by the arm. Shaking himself awake, Yoongi turned to the boy. "Yes, Raj."

The little boy blinked up at him, pointing to the list that he had forgotten in his hand. "You were going to tell us what was on the note from Mrs Moore."

Yoongi blinked down at the note, suddenly remembering he wasn't there to reminiscence on his childhood but to teach the children around him. "Oh, yes." He muttered, turning to the class as he cleared his throat. "Um, who wants to do show and tell?"

A hand flew up from the crowd of children. Yoongi sighed as he spotted the signature blonde hair of the weirdest kid in the class. "Ok George, show and tell us why we should even be giving you our attention right now."

The blonde grinned as he rose to his feet; digging in his bag for something Yoongi feared was a weapon.