[yoongi-mood]

Jackson's POV

I would have to be fool to ignore the fact that Jimin has never smiled this much ever. He walks around the corridors looking like he's won the lottery every single day, and it stings like a bitch. Not only because I've lost the bet, but because I feel like I've lost him.

Namjoon looks like he wants to speak to me more but I push past him, not wanting him to see the tears pricking in my eyes. I need to get away from everyone; it's like they're suffocating me. I decide to go somewhere BamBam always used to recommend— the dance studio.

I know I risk seeing Jimin here, but there is also something about the white walls and piano music coming out of every room that makes the muscles in my shoulders relax a little bit. Here the school feud doesn't matter. People are focused on bigger dreams and aspirations away from the bubble of school.

Walking through the corridors, I watch through the windows as students dance. They're all completely absorbed in what they're doing, none of them focused on anything else. I'm stopped by the sight of that Mark kid dancing by himself.

He's wearing a black T-shirt and leggings, his hair swept off his face by a bandana. Sweat covers every part of his body as he contorts his body in all sorts of ways, never missing a beat of the song as he moves gracefully around the room. My eyes can't help trailing down to his thighs, and my brain begins wondering what they'd look like...

I pinch myself. It's not okay to be having these thoughts about a guy— especially an LG. One of Hoseok's minions.

"Jackson?" A familiar voice rings through the corridor and I feel my stomach drop.

I turn to face Jimin who is still in his dance kit, wiping his brow with a towel and looking like an actual angel. My throat seizes up and I feel my eyes begin to tear up again against my own will.

"I need to go," I manage to stutter out, turning on my heel so that I don't need to see his face.

I can't even look at him without the memory of watching him in bed with Yoongi flashing before my eyes. It makes me feel physically sick, and my heart lurches. There is a part of me that wants to stay, wants to yell at him, but there is a bigger side of me that wants to go.

And so I leave.

The tears in my eyes don't seem to dry up this time and I manage to make it into a bathroom stall before slumping down to the floor and placing my head in my hands. Who am I anymore? Who was I ever?

I don't hate Jimin because he's gay. I hate him because he's opened something inside me that I can no longer run from. It's something I can't avoid, I can't hide, I can't pretend that's not there.

Can it be possible that the leader of the Straights is actually gay? I shudder at that label, wanting nothing more than to bury it and never let it resurface. I can't be gay. I'm Jackson Wang. People like me aren't gay.

But people like me don't look at boys and wonder what their lips would feel like. People like me don't look at boys' thighs and wonder how strong they would feel wrapped around my head. People like me don't fall in love with their best friend.

Have I been like this my whole life? I try and cast my mind back, but I've been playing this act for too long to distinguish when I was ever being true to myself. It only makes me hate Hoseok more, the fact that the boy can be so sure of himself. Sure of who he is. Did he ever sit crying in a bathroom stall wondering whether his whole life had been a lie?

I exit the bathroom with my eyes still swollen. I'll tell people I got punched if they ask. I mean I technically feel like I've been punched by fucking feelings. In the gut. In the heart. In every part of my body.

"Yo Jackson!" Jungkook and Taehyung call out, "Who you taking to prom?"

Shit.

Prom.

"Probably a girl?" I reply back weakly. Duh Jackson, who else would you take? "Who you guys taking?"

Jungkook doesn't look fazed by my answer, "Each other. In a bro way of course. It will be funny— right?"

I want to tell him that anyone around can see the pair's lust for each other, and that saying "no homo" doesn't make any of it "no homo", but I'm tired. I nod at them, wanting nothing more than being alone.

Prom. Just another night to watch Jimin happy without me. Just another night of putting on a façade.

-

did someone say prom?

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