mggts:
While one wishes to credit Kim Minjae with some general base of intelligence, it’s basically ludicrous to really account him for being among such high expectations. Because here his dumb ass is, at a party. Again. And thanks to Jungkook, no less. The elder isn’t sure how they convinced him to come, what with such a bad taste parties leave in his mouth. He thought it all ended a year or two ago.
To Minjae, parties are when you’re in love with a minor, and they’re hopped up on cocaine spewing how much they hate you. How you’re a pedophile. How you’re evil. How you’ve only taken advantage of them, how it’s all been lust.
Parties are how you come to term with your sins. It’s when you realize that everyone who told you to go to hell, was actually sending you there. In a twisted sort of way (the kind of twisting that someone does in their own favor to feel better about themselves).
Parties are when your best friend, at the time, is punching dents into cars. It’s how you jump onto their back in an attempt to tame them, but you’re tossed over their shoulder and left wheezing. You left before law enforcement arrived to arrest them.
Parties are how you’re passed out in someone’s bathtub and you’ve got a war being fought beneath the rib-cage, it’s how you’re losing the battle, and your supposed allies act only as spectators.
And now you have Kim motherfucking Minjae lounged on a sofa, a beer in one hand and an edible in the other. And he sees his little friend glow among the others, with radiance acting as an emblem of their youth. And Minjae can’t help but think, ”Jungkook is the life among the dead.”
He waves them forward, to come closer. Minjae says something, but it’s nothing more than the lips shifting over syllables because the music drowns out the words. He probably slurred some cheeky bullshit, anyway.
his body reminds him of those paper cranes kids used to make during lunch. they would gather in a tiny circles and press down on thin paper and pinch the edges so they would be fine and neat. they made wishes out of those paper cranes. used their bodies as wishbones or prayers. they were as sacred as the bible.
( his body isn’t a temple-- it’s an idea, a prayer for something more )
thinking of paper cranes and children and stupid wishes isn’t what he was expecting to do in one of these shady college parties. he doesn’t snort cocaine, but for the first time in all his life, he sort of wishes that he does. or that he could. he’d rather be disconnected from his mind, away from silly philosophical ramblings that nobody could even hear. it’s embarrassing, he thinks, when someone asks him a question and he can’t answer because he was thinking.
“sorry sorry, got sidetracked. mind sayin’ that again ?” he doesn’t have the charm like some others, but he’s awkward and sweet and always leans forward whenever somebody is talking, and people like that about him. they like that he listens.
jungkook is chatting amiably with a couple of juniors from the nearby university, all engineering majors, when he sees minjae waving him over just a couple of feet away from him. it’s difficult to detach himself from the conversation since he’s starting to get tipsy ( and he’s somehow enjoying talking about the laws of motion and relativity ). still, he stumbles over a quick apology, and makes his way towards his friend.
“huh ?” he squints, unsure if minjae was just screwing around with him, or if he meant whatever bullshit came out of his mouth. considering they’re in a party, jungkook blames it on the alcohol instead. “I would never-- besides, I ain’t even like, fuckin’, gay or whatever. fuck. jesus christ.” for a moment, he just watches minjae. looks at the way he turns his head or slurs out unintelligible words or holds his beer. strangely, guilt consumes jungkook fleetingly. though it leaves quick, he still holds his own beer can tightly against his chest.
“why ain’t you uh, y’know, uh, doin’ people things with the people doing...people things. y’know.”
