"Where were you last night?" Namjoon asked, throwing clothes into a backpack—picking up, sniffing, throwing aside or in the bag.

I still wasn't ready for Namjoon's reaction when he found out I'd been with Jungkook, so rather than respond to his question, I asked, "Why are you packing a bag?"

The frown etched on his face from concentration instantly shifted and transformed into a smile, blush and lip bite. "You remember chef guy?"

"Who?" I grabbed a pair of white socks and took a seat at the edge of my bed to wear them. It was past seven and I was getting ready to go to school. Namjoon had showed up a few minutes ago with a bag and started to throw some of his clothes—and mine—into it.

"The guy I met at the Library after you ditched me. I told you," he accused, looking every bit disappointed that I didn't remember the nineteenth guy he had told me about this month. He rolled his eyes. "Anyways, we're going camping."

I stopped wearing my sock halfway and looked sideways, where he was pulling one of my sweatshirts from a hanger. "You're going camping with this chef guy you met, what, yesterday? Are you crazy?"

He shrugged. "What's the big deal? By the ways, he's really harmless. Marshmallow looking guy," he said, trying to sound convincing.

"Marshmallow looking guy could be a serial killer." I knew I was sounding like a hypocrite but Namjoon could be really clueless. And this dude could just be taking advantage of him. Who suggests going camping just after a few days of meeting?

Again, a hypocrite, I know. But just because I did something reckless for the first time in my life didn't mean Namjoon would do it and get away with it.

"Chef guy isn't a serial killer, Jin. He actually goes to church. Ah! Your mum's friend, Reverend Mark, would really like him."

"Deacon Mark," I corrected, still watching him throw more clothes into the bag. Then he zipped it, slung the strap over his shoulder and turned to me with a satisfied smile. "You're really going?"

"It's just camping. By the ways, we're not going to be the only ones there. So, if he tries anything remotely out of line, I'll shout," he said boldly like that was going to stop anyone from stabbing him in the throat with a stick or something.

"I still don't think it's a good idea. What if he—"

"Nothing, Jin. Relax. Breathe. You're way too uptight. Maybe if you'd loosen up a bit, you'll be going camping with your own boyfriend, too." He stuck his tongue out at me and headed for the door. "Hurry, so I can drop you off at school before heading over to chef guy's house."

I didn't know what else to say. I tried to think of a way to stop him from doing something so stupid and reckless but nothing came to mind. Eventually, I asked, "Doesn't chef guy have a name?" But he was already thudding down the steps.

Namjoon refused to listen to me again as he drove me to school. He played music loudly, sang loudly in my face so I just shut up. It was his life. If he wanted to mess it up despite my warnings, then that was his call.

Outside the school, everyone turned to our direction at the loudness of the song, also at the sight of a Tesla dropping me off. I leaned against the window and spoke—shouted—over the song. "Call me if anything—"

"Yeah yeah. I love you. Bye!" He honked, rolled up the glass, honked again and drove off.

Namjoon was too careless. I despised his nonchalance towards everything especially his life. If he took his life more seriously, that would be one less problem for me to worry about. I had a lot on my plate already.

• • •

Yoongi looked through the physical copies of the posters and flyers, a big smile on his face. He was shaking his head impressively like he couldn't believe they were actually that good.

"You look like you like them," I teased, leaning against his locker.

"I love them. You made me into the fucking President of Korea!" He laughed, eyes scanning each picture with a glint. "How are you so good at this?"

"I took a class in designing during the holiday last year," I explained. I'd taken it for fun and also to pass time, but I was happy it was useful now, especially to someone like Yoongi who really deserved all my help. "You need help passing it out?"

"Nah. The boys from the Soccer team need to pull their weight, too," he said, winking. "You've done enough, Jin. I appreciate."

I nodded. "What else do you want me doing?"

"This should be good for now, I guess," he said, eyes moving behind me. I watched him slowly disengage from out conversation. Curiously, I turned to follow his eyes and he was looking at Taehyung, who was staring back at him.

There was something in the look that passed between the two of them that felt wrong, not after what I'd witnessed with Hoseok and Taehyung yesterday.

"Uh," I started, turning back to Yoongi, who was chewing his bottom lip. "Am I missing something?"

His focus shifted back to me, his cheeks a shade red. "What?"

"Is something going on between you and Taehyung?" His relationship wasn't my concern and I couldn't care less whom Taehyung dated but Hoseok was in the middle of this, and that made it my business.

He shrugged. "We've been talking."

My brows furrowed, unintentionally. I forced a smile, so the concern wouldn't show on my face. "Talking?"

"So, during the last holiday, we part timed at the same Cafe. We got pretty close and something led to something, and we kind of hooked up." Then he frowned. "But he ghosted me after that. We didn't talk again, I quit the job and he acted like I didn't exist which pretty much sucked. Funny enough, yesterday when he came over while you and I were talking, he said he wanted to try again."

That ASSHOLE!

My blood boiled and clenching my fist was all I could do to stop myself from running over to punch the lights out of him. What the hell was he playing at?

"You look like you're seconds away from exploding," Yoongi said, eyes warily on me. "Is everything okay? Did Taehyung do something?"

I liked Yoongi a lot, but I had to first confirm my suspicions before worrying him with the result that Taehyung was a manipulative, lying cheat. So, I shook my head. "Everything's fine." I trudged up another forced smile. "Let me know if you need me to do anything for your campaign," I said, before turning and heading to my own locker, sending Taehyung a death glare which, thankfully, did not go unnoticed by him.

By lunch, I got a text from Namjoon that he'd arrived at the campsite. I was still skeptical about the whole trip so, I video-called him which, to my chagrin, glitched the entire time because the network in the bush was shitty.

I wanted him to pack his bag and come back to me and civilization this second but I knew Namjoon's stubbornness wasn't just a show, it ran deep into his bone marrow and until he spent every single second he intended to spend there, he was not coming back.

So, I asked him to be safe. And to also send me every single detail he knew about Chef guy in case anything went wrong, which for the continuous existence of Chef Guy, I hoped it didn't.

The entire school wall was covered with campaign posters and a wave of pride swept through me when I spotted Yoongi's amongst them. He was in the cafeteria, laughing with a bunch of juniors.

Yoongi ate lunch with a different set every day, going wherever he was pulled and he was always pulled because he was funny, kind, intelligent and would make a wonderful President.

While the entire senior population had lunch, Taehyung was nowhere to be found. I had no appetite and had not been able to keep anything down for two days, so I decided to use my free time to confront Taehyung.

I searched everywhere for him, my mind buzzing with all the things I was going to say to him. I tried to keep my anger down as I went from one class to the other, my eyes frantically searching for him.

I couldn't remember the last time I spoke to him. If it were up to me, I'd never speak to nor see him again, but this wasn't about me. This was about Hoseok and Yoongi, two people who meant a lot to me, being strung along by someone totally not worth it.

For fifteen minutes I was on the move, adrenaline pumping through me like a dam, but he was not in sight. Until my search took me outside the school building, around the back and to the side where the school's parking lot was located.

A familiar black Aston Martin sat in the almost empty lot because students never drove and only a few teachers actually had cars. It was as noticeable as a streetlight on a dark street. It was one of Namjoon's cars. But strangely, Namjoon happened to be in the middle of the Amazon with his pedo boyfriend.

It didn't take ten seconds before I put two and two together and realized it was Hoseok. He probably didn't drive his own car so as not to get noticed by the paps and his fans. And since Taehyung was nowhere within the school building, I could only guess where he was.

My feet dragged me towards the car, my eyes fixed on the passenger's side and even though the windows were tinted, I could imagine the little shit— The door opened and Taehyung stepped out, shutting the door behind him and shoving his hands in his pockets casually.

Seeing the smug look on his face tripled my rage and before I could stop myself or think through what I was about to do, my arms swung back and forward, connecting to his nose. Taehyung stumbled back with a groan, crashing against the car.

The driver's side swung open and Hoseok rushed out, most of his face hidden with a hat and a face mask. He was next to Taehyung in seconds, blocking him from me like I was going to waste another precious blow on him. "What the fuck, Jin?!" He yelled at me, hands holding Taehyung, eyes frantically searching his face.

Blood ran from his nose in a stream, there was also a cut across his nose bridge. He'd need to go to the hospital for that one. Taehyung couldn't even hold onto it, instead he cupped around his nose with his hands, eyes glaring at me.

"You know what you did," I barked at him.

Hoseok left him and turned, walking up to me. He looked very angry, angrier than I'd ever seen him in my life. And for a minute, it scared me. He glared at me, not speaking. Despite the face mask concealing his face, I could imagine his pouted lips, pursed into a thin unimpressed line, frowning.

"Hoseok, you don't understand," I started to explain, wanting to clear things up before he hated me.

"I didn't think you could ever do anything to disappoint me," he said, his voice thick with anger. "But you just proved me wrong."

"You don't even know what he did," I said in a rush.

"I don't care what he did!" He yelled in my face. "You shouldn't have!"

"I would never do anything for nothing. You know I wouldn't! I'm trying to protect you!" I retorted, completely irritated. I felt angry and stupid because the person I was fighting for was fighting me.

"From what?!"

"From this lying son of a bitch!" I yelled, my focus now on Taehyung, who was holding a handkerchief to his nose.

Around us, a crowd had started to form. Hoseok noticed it too because he snapped his head down, letting out an exhale. "Get in the car," he said to Taehyung before walking to the driver's side.

Taehyung got in and together they disappeared out of the lot and through the school gate. I stood there watching after the car had long disappeared—as the students puzzled who the person with Taehyung had been—feeling angry, but not just that, I felt betrayed.

The rest of the day went by in a blur. I couldn't concentrate and I was irritated all over. I wanted the day to be over so I could go home and pretend the day never happened.

The news about how I'd punched Taehyung had spread around the school, but luckily, I wasn't summoned to the Staff room or Principal's office, so I was not in trouble.

Although, Yoongi had come over to me after school, looking confused and shocked. "Why did you hit Taehyung?" He'd asked, calmly.

I wasn't sure whether to tell him or not. I didn't want to be the one to break his heart by telling him that his boyfriend had another boyfriend. I also didn't want to leave him in the dark because truthfully, he deserved to know.

"I think it's better you ask him," I said to him before shutting my locker and leaving before he'd force the answer out of me.

I didn't take the bus because everyone would be in my face if I did. I walked home, my thoughts doing a number in my head. They were so intrusive, I wanted to dip my head in bleach.

I was certain Hoseok was never going to talk to me again. It hurt my heart to think that. I hadn't minded losing him as a love, but as a friend, as anything, I couldn't take it. My heart couldn't take it.

I ran my fingers through my hair, willing myself to relax. I could feel it coming, my pulse was racing, my heart hammered in my chest. I wriggled my hands and stood at a corner, waiting for it to pass. I was going mental.

My pocket vibrated, startling me. I contemplated ignoring the call, but again, it could be Namjoon, it could even be Hoseok. So, I reached for it while attempting to manage my breathing.

Jungkook.

"Hey," his voice called, casually once I connected the call.

I took in a shaky breath and let out a shakier one. "Hi. Can you..." My voice shook when I spoke. I wanted to tell him to call back later when I was much relaxed but I didn't trust my voice to carry on without giving away my present condition.

"Jin," Jungkook called, his voice a pitch higher. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

I hated being so vulnerable, so weak. I hated that he was able to tell something was wrong. I hated that he was the cure. "No."

I heard shuffling from the phone. "Where are you?" I gave him my address, leaning against the wall to an old apartment building. "I'm on my way."

Thankfully, there was a large cherry tree beside the building which cast a shade over my head. I stayed there and calmed down, urging myself to relax. I did a few breathing exercises from the short YouTube videos Jungkook had sent me last night, and it worked. I was able to calm down in no time, while I waited for him.

The neighborhood was quiet, the air refreshing and it aided in my calming down. I enjoyed the serenity of it. It was towards the middle of February so the white petals of the tree were still rooted to the branches, only a few strays floated off.

If Namjoon were here, he'd pluck as much petals as he could. It was his hobby, a stinky one. Usually, I'd scold him not to do that, but if he were here today, I wouldn't stop him. I'd let him pluck and pluck as much as he wanted because they were just petals and not my sanity, my soul, my heart being tugged on.

Jungkook arrived in less than fifteen minutes, in a black BMW—a different car from the one he'd drove me home in. I still didn't know what he did for a living but that was the least of my troubles at the moment.

There was a different tug on my heart at the sight of him. I pushed away from the wall and met him half way where he enveloped me in an embrace. His musky scent—God knew I was obsessed with it.

Moments passed and we just stayed there, holding each other. "Were you busy?" I asked, when we finally pulled apart.

"It doesn't matter," he said, shaking his head, his eyes inspecting me from my head to my toe. "What happened?"

I didn't want to tell him the problem I had had to do with the crush he asked me to forget. The one I couldn't forget. "Can we have a drink?" I asked, gesturing down the walk path.

"We could go to my friend's bar," He said me, eyes scanning my uniform. His lips tugged up the corner in a smirk. "You look adorable."

"Stop." I was dying from embarrassment. "And I meant there's a cafe a few buildings back."

"Oh," he smiled, taking my hand and halting my movement. The rings around his fingers felt cold against my wrist, sending a shiver down my back. "Alright then."

I shook my head in protest. "I'm in a uniform," I said, sounding like wearing a uniform in a cafe was a federal offence. I knew it wasn't but Jungkook looked like a freaking movie star in a blue plaid button-down shirt, a white shirt that hugged his perfect body, black ripped jeans and a pair of black expensive-looking Air Jordans.

I felt conscious of how I looked, probably something I never had to worry about before.

"It doesn't matter. Let's go have whatever you want. I just want to put you in good mood," he admitted.

Jungkook was being too good to me. Somehow I felt he was too good to be true. Too good for me. He was making me fall for him, hard.

And very fast.

He took both my hands in his and started to pull me towards the direction I'd gestured. "Let me spoil you," he said with a mischievous wink.

"Spoil me?" I asked, curious, excited, nervous.

He nodded, pulled me against him and threw his arm over my shoulder. He exhaled—his breath minty. "Yes, baby. Let me spoil you."