Tuesday the 13th, Nov 2018

‘Holy.’

Taehyung whipped his head to gape at his friend. ‘What?’

‘Oh my.’

Jin turned to look too. ‘What’s the matter?’

‘I can’t believe it.’

Tae raised an eyebrow. ‘What can’t you believe?’

Namjoon slowly turned to Jin, eyes unfocused as though in scattered thoughts. Then they flicked up to meet Jin’s questioning ones.

‘I can’t believe I forgot to ask you for a burger! Heck, I can’t believe I haven’t had a burger in the past week!’

Taehyung let out a breath—one swirl of relief and disappointment. He turned back to his notes, a clear decision made to ignore the next words that would birth the conversation’s continuity on his part.

Jin flayed his hands about for words. ‘That’s why you acted all... strange, like that?’

Joon threw his hands up, flailing them as though Jin had said something the whole world should know. ‘Of course it’s strange!’ He threw his hands down, and hit one determinedly unto the table. ‘Since I’ve remembered, I want a burger today. And tomorrow. And for the rest of the week. I shouldn’t have to remind you before they land in my hands.’

Jin eyed the brunet’s long fingers. Then he looked up from them to his face. Joon’s gaze remained strong, for enough time to fill up a 35 centilitre bottle.

Taehyung kept his eyes on his notes and his ears on the dialogue, no matter how much he wished to shut it out.

‘Ok’, Jin spoke, and tore his eyes off Joon’s. ‘No problem. I will get you the burger.’

‘The burgers.’

Jin sighed. ‘The burgers.’

Joon stared at his face. Then he flipped the pages of his notebook to a random and brought it out to Jin.

Jin flipped the notebook closed. ‘I’m not signing a contract for a burger.’

Joon slid his book back and sent the older a credulous look. ‘Your choice.’

Jin nonchalantly nodded.

Taehyung scratched his head and looked up from his notes at Jin. ‘Mind I use your notes for a little comparison?’

‘You can have mine’, piped Joon, and flung his notes to his friend.

Tae caught them and flung them back. ‘I’d like Jin’s, thanks.’

With a pout, Namjoon skimmed through his notes. Then he shut the book and slid it aside. ‘I understand.’

Jin seemed to be in a daze, not seeing the transpiration that just happened beside him. He stared on at Taehyung, eyes looking, but not seeing, mouth slightly ajar.

Taehyung stared back at him. Then he shook his head, and leaned in. ‘I’ll just take this then’, he decided, and snatched Jin’s notebook from the table, already flipping it open.

Jin snapped from his daze, and his right hand immediately shot out to grab his book back.

Taehyung raised an eyebrow at him. Namjoon’s eyes narrowed microscopically, portraying his puzzlement.

Jin looked from boy to boy, baffled.

‘Oh’, he blinked, as though only realising that Tae had asked for his notes, and withdrew his hand.

‘I’m sorry. Have them.’

Taehyung dropped his eyebrow and frowned, flipping the notebook open and settling to use them.

The second class was about to begin, and the boys were sat in their usual spot, all prepared to have their class. A few minutes had their time to spend before the lecturer came in, and they didn’t mind being spent in silly banter, as they were used to.

‘What’s this?’ Taehyung asked, slipping a folded sheet from Jin’s notebook.

Namjoon perked up in interest.

‘Give it’, he said, after he had propped his hands on the table and strained his neck for a view.

Jin snatched the sheet from Tae’s hands. Joon snatched it next, and immediately unfolded it.

‘Whoa.’

Tae was straining his neck this time. ‘Let me see?’

Jin rubbed his hands on his jeans.

Namjoon’s eyes drove all over the page. They widened, taking in every inch. Then they skid off the paper and drove to stare at Jin.

‘Where in heaven did you learn to draw like this?’

On hearing the word “draw”, Tae tore the paper from the brunet’s hands. Jin opened his mouth to speak, but snapped it shut after a beat. His heart thumped within.

Taehyung studied the paper, eyes going all over like Namjoon’s had, but much slower. Then he looked up at Jin.

‘Is this yours?’

Jin didn’t have much time to choose whether to lie or not. He chose to not say anything instead.

‘It definitely can’t be his’, snapped Joon, shaking his head. He stretched his hand over Jin to try to take the paper from Taehyung, but the raven haired wove it out his reach. ‘I need to see it again Tae, come on’.

Taehyung glanced over it again, then passed it to Joon. He stretched out his fingers. ‘I can only draw stick figures, and mine are eons better than his.’

‘Exactly!’ Joon said, waving the sheet in front of his face, eyes growing wider as he addressed his friend. Then they slid to Jin, who stared into his lap like he wished for a way to disappear through there.

‘You’re not going to say anything?’

Tae watched him too, awaiting a reply.

Jin sighed, and with a second’s interval, looked up. He couldn’t look at both men at the same time, so he opted for a view of the back of the empty seat right in front of his.

‘I took online classes during the holidays.’

The two friends stayed silent. Then Namjoon clicked his tongue and slightly snapped his head to the right.

‘No way’, he sang, clicking his tongue again. ‘No way, Seokjin. There’s no way you could have gone from worse than stick figures to Michelangelo sorta art. This looks like years worth of practice, not four months of tracing from a computer!’

Taehyung nodded, agreeing fully. His eyes moved from Jin’s face to the paper clenched in Namjoon’s right hand, and then back to Jin.

Jin stole a glance at the sheet. That wasn’t even close to Michelangelo’s class.

His gaze slid from the seat to stare at the whiteboard at the very front of the theatre. He traced the metal placements of the wood's perimeter, his mind searching quickly for a filler. Then he took his eyes off and turned to Namjoon, who seemed terribly grateful he was about to speak again.

‘Alright’, Jin sighed, and leaned back into his seat. ‘You caught me. It’s not mine’.

Taehyung nodded again, feeling certain.

Namjoon looked like he’d finally come to terms with the truth of a baffling mystery.

‘Ahha!’ the twenty year old said, slamming the sheet unto the table, hands splat over the page. Jin eyed his hand, itching to throw it off. ‘I knew it. It’s just not possible. Last semester you drew this horrid looking gown for the classical era course project, and I swear it looked worse than Cinderella when she was in rags’.

Taehyung mildly eyed the younger, but he nodded in agreement. ‘So, whose is it?’

Namjoon perked up at the question.

Jin sighed and scratched at his jaw. ‘I don’t know’, he drawled. ‘Someone who’s pretty talented, I suppose’.

Taehyung glanced at Joon, then back at Jin. His tongue fleetly swiped at his bottom lip.

‘Who from the Fine Arts department?’

Joon looked back at the dragon swirled unto the paper.

‘Or who from here?’

Jin shook his head. His gaze slipped to the sheet on the table again, and seeing Namjoon’s hand finally off of it, he took the chance to take it up and fold it into his pocket.

‘I really don’t know’, he said, and inched forward to prop his left arm unto the table and drop his head unto it. His view was Namjoon. ‘I found it somewhere’.

Taehyung leaned in. ‘Where?’

Jin turned to him, and shrugged.

‘Where?’, Taehyung repeated, and held Jin’s eyes with his gaze.

Jin found it difficult to hold with him, so he looked away. ‘I found it on my way home last Monday. It was lying on the path, and I assumed it had fallen out of someone else’s notebook. It was too nice to leave there, so, well...’

Namjoon made a humming noise. He nodded, and patted Jin on his right lap, before leaning back a few inches. ‘I would have done the same.’

Taehyung wasn’t sure what he would have done on his part. He blinked, his teeth picking at the inside of his lower lip in indecisiveness.

Jin looked from boy to boy. ‘Well, are we content now?’

Taehyung shrugged, and went back to his notes.

Namjoon tapped a finger on his jaw, his face one of distant recollection.
'You know, this brings me back to my Misoo portraits'.

'Oh Lord', breathed Taehyung, dropping his pen to massage his forehead. 'You should be forever grateful she never saw those'.

Namjoon kept the finger on his jaw. 'Her loss, really.'

Taehyung swiftly picked up his pen again.

Namjoon sighed, and leaned out of his seat to reach into Jin’s bag.

Jin swiped the bag behind him, making sure it was trapped between the seat and his back.

‘No’.

Namjoon’s face went down in disappointment, and he picked at the inside of his lower lip, like Taehyung had done.

--

Namjoon had had a huge burger during their free time, before their last class for the day. He would have snagged a soda from Jin as well, but Taehyung had warned him that it was way too cold to be drinking sodas, and so he’d snagged a cappuccino instead.

A whole class had gone by, but the sulk hadn’t left Jin yet, and even while they walked the distance home, his bottom lip pressed up into his upper one, almost forming a straight line, hands deep in his pockets, fingers pinching at the bottom fabric.

‘Look, Jin’, Namjoon started, but Taehyung pinched him.

He continued anyway.

Taehyung sighed, and slowed pace, so they walked in front of him.

‘I won’t have a burger tomorrow, if that’s what you’re worried about’, Namjoon said to Jin, as he watched the older’s lips mesh into a thinner line.

The line tipped into a curve at both ends. Jin wasn’t thinking about Namjoon’s lunch, but since that was what the younger wished to discuss, he would let him.

‘You can have the burger. Or burgers. But not the drink.’

Namjoon thought for a moment. His hair brushed against his eyes when he swivelled his head upwards to watch the raven haired, as he spoke again.

‘What’s three times eight?’

Jin’s head snapped to his. ‘What?’

‘Five times sixteen?’

‘I—’

‘Seven times thirteen thousand, six hundred and thirteen?

Jin’s face scrunched like a piece of paper about to be thrown into the bin.

Namjoon pat the other boy’s shoulder. He looked at the sky beyond the older’s face, and took in a breath as some of the clouds formed a lake with one another. He sighed.

‘It’s ok, Seokjin; it’s ok to not know. It’s ok to not bother. It’s ok to not worry if I have a drink with my burger.'

Jin would have replied, if he wasn’t too confused by what he had just heard to be able to process a response just yet.

‘It’s also ok to be tongue-tied’.

Taehyung rolled his eyes from behind.

Formulas were still turning in Jin’s head, his eyebrows knitting furiously. He spotted the back of a familiar head some feet in front, and the formulas paused to take a look too.

Namjoon stilled, making Jin stop. Taehyung gave him a questioning stare.

‘Isn’t that Hoseok?’

Taehyung gazed in front of them, and saw the familiar head of brown curls on the move.

They hadn't seen him since the day he'd stood them up for game night, and there he was, right in front of them, seeming to be in a hurry to get away.

‘Hoseok!’

It couldn’t have been a trick of light; since they all saw the body go rigid. It didn’t pause as theirs as done, notwithstanding.

Taehyung called again.

Hoseok sped up pace.

Namjoon stared at the furthering body, a brow going up as emphasis on his confusion.

‘Is he ignoring us?’

Taehyung looked at the younger. ‘Airpods?’

‘Hmm’.

Jin watched Hoseok turn a corner.

--

There wasn’t a clear wind path that night, and the cold had taken its stand as a static force in the atmosphere. The leaves on the trees were completely gone by then, save a few scattered loners about on the path, and Namjoon’s shoe clad foot found itself dragging and leaving; staying on one, and then leaving it for another.

He wouldn’t have stayed out, if only he hadn’t forgotten to get the groceries he was supposed to have stocked the fridge with days ago. The nylon bags sat beside him on the bench, but because the wind wasn’t driving that day, they didn’t make their rustling noise, as they would have.

It was indeed, cold, but Namjoon had wanted sometime to take in himself—just him alone, and despite having to button his coat to the top button, and pull it close to himself to the point where it might have made for a second layer of skin, the amount of time he spent sat there was much more valuable than being in his bed, at least to him.

There was also the prospect of Taehyung grumbling from his rumbling stomach right then as he sat, and that was comical, so indeed, a choice very well made.

He sighed, but it was one in resolution.

He looked up at the sky, and it was pretty dark already; quite dark for only a few minutes after seven. Namjoon wished he could see the stars, and since it wasn’t far into the night yet, he believed their appearance wasn’t till later on.

He sighed again, this one even more decided than the last.

He stuck his hand into the pocket of his long puff coat and brought out his phone.

Yoongi rarely missed calls.

‘Hey buddy’, the blond’s voice lolled in, carelessly greeting. It sounded as though he were eating something.

Namjoon was curious. ‘What are you eating?’

The blond swallowed. ‘Cheese puffs. I can’t believe it either, but that’s what these are’.

Namjoon threw his mouth open, a command his brain gave it from surprise. He sat up straight, putting a hand on the bench for extra prop.

‘You vowed. You made it a commandment to never eat those. I have a voice note of proof’.

Yoongi sighed, and the hurt was resound. ‘I’m disappointed in myself’.

Namjoon smiled. He let go of the bench, his hand moving down to rest on a leg. ‘It’s ok, bro, since I won’.

‘Won what?’

‘The bet’.

Yoongi’s voice slid up half a tone. ‘We never made a bet!’

Namjoon masked his laughter pretty well, down in his belly, till when he’d let it out— hopefully till after the call.

‘We did. I have a voice note to prove it’.

There was a short silence.

‘That's creepy, Joon’.

Namjoon reclined in the bench, a full smile taking reign on his lips. ‘I couldn’t refute that’.

It sounded like Yoongi sat up, or leaned forward where he was sat. ‘You’re agreeing to this? Finally?’

The laughter slid out from the braces and sprung forth from within.

‘This is not why I called’.

Yoongi was laughing too. ‘Yes but...,’ the boy sighed, right after taking in a lungful. ‘You have no idea how long I’ve waited for you to agree that you're downright terrifying’.

Namjoon gave a silly grin, and pulled the grocery bags closer to himself. ‘I've got a vague timeline’.

‘Idiot’, Yoongi spat, but it was in an almost whisper.

‘Idiot’, Namjoon said, but it was out loud.

He could see Yoongi shaking his head, mind amused. The speaker crackled, putting him in fleeting shock.

‘What did you call to say?’

Namjoon again, propped his hands up on the bench. Right then, he felt the wind in his hair, ever so slight; a passerby in time. He swiped his hood on.

‘My project—the photography one. I was supposed to have said this about two weeks ago, but yeah, you know the usual drill’.

Yoongi took a long slurp of some drink. ‘I know’.

‘Hm hmm’.

Yoongi took another slurp. ‘What then? Are you stuck?’

Namjoon watched a group of people walk past in front of him.

‘Yeah’, he breathed, and slapped a foot unto the pavement. His breath fanned in his face. ‘I have not the faintest idea what to do for this one, which is weird, ‘cause I believed this fountain of ideas I was born with never ran out’.

Yoongi hummed, a faint tapping noise through the speakers. ‘It didn’t run out. Just there’s a pebble, or something in the hose that’s clogging it. Sand, maybe? What’s stressing you?’

Namjoon stared out and unto the street beyond. The lights at the front of the shops at the other side of the street twinkled, threatening to blind, and a car thankfully sped up and blocked them for a second or two. He focused on the patter of steps about him, and the tiny shrill of a distant wind.

What was stressing him?

He gripped the phone tighter, suddenly feeling desperate.

‘Could you tell me?’

The setting of a cup on a surface was heard. ‘How about you tell me, so I can tell you?’

Namjoon blinked rapidly, his brows mushing together. Then he relaxed them, and sighed.

‘I don’t know what it is. I can’t tell if I’m stressed’.

‘I see’.

‘What do you see?’

‘That you’re stressed’.

Namjoon sucked his teeth. Yoongi let out a laugh.

‘You have a head, and in there is a brain, that’s clogged up with a ton of useless, or useful—doesn’t matter which, and it’s stopping you from using said brain for when you further need it, aka, right now. There are a ton of reasons you could deduce from that information, but then, said clogging would stop said brain from finding the cause—and solution—to its own problem’.

Namjoon placed a hand under his chin, his brows, again, almost meeting for a handshake. Then he sighed, and his breath was all over his face once more.

‘You want to meet up?’

Namjoon’s hands dropped to his knees. ‘Yes, please’.

‘Ok then. Saturday’.

Namjoon stretched out to kick a stone.
‘No, Sunday. I’m on cleaning duty this week, and I won’t be done till almost half the day’s gone’.

The slurping sound made its mark in the sound waves again.

‘Ok then’.

‘Time?’

Yoongi thought.

‘All day’, he concluded. ‘This will take a while’.

Namjoon’s brow went up, and Yoongi could tell. ‘Really? Why so?’

‘You’re indecisive’.

Namjoon shook his head, a smile throwing a party on his lips. ‘You’re blunt’.

‘All for your good’.

Nobody spoke, and silence held the line for them. Namjoon watched another one of the shop lights turn on, and the closed sign flip to “open”.

‘Is Sanha there?’

‘No’.

‘Oh’. Namjoon scratched his jaw. ‘My regards then, when he gets back. Tell him he better get ready for our university team next year’.

‘Hockey rats. Have Taehyung tell him’.

‘Sore gramps’.

‘Take care’.

‘You too bro.’ Namjoon drew his legs to himself. ‘And thank you’.

‘I thank me too’.

Namjoon scoffed, and then Yoongi was off.

He leaned back, and stayed put, wanting to feel the wind one more time. He looked up at the sky, and at the digital clock on his phone.

He hoped the stars would visit tomorrow.