"Appa!" I announce cheerily as I step through my ornate front door, "I'm home!"

I hang my bag on one of the hooks by the door, relishing in the feel of being home. I take in the marble floors, and intricate pillars with satisfaction, much as I have done many, many times before.

But today, my father's warm voice doesn't respond eagerly, as he normally does. And in his absence, the cold marble feels empty.

I take the grand staircase, turning right as soon as I reach the top. My room is at the very end of the hall, and Appa's all the way to the end of the left hall. I make quick work of changing out of my uniform, slipping into the first dress I grab from my overly stuffed wardrobe. Soon, it'll be time to thin it out once more.

Really, it's just the two of us all alone in this big house. Jimin and his mother live in the small employee house located near the gardens, and it's there that I decide to go now. No point in chilling all alone when I know Jimin is willing to keep me company.

The way to Jimin's house is a winding cobblestone path, lined with delicate flowers of nearly every size, shape, and color cared for by his mother. Also lining the path is the occasional small, but intricate post, from which hangs an equally intricate light.

I know that I am close when I begin to hear the sound of running water, which tells me that the garden's fountain is nearby.

From the corner of my eye, I spy my favorite part of the whole garden. Just behind the side of Jimin's house rests an old park bench, and I sigh, remembering exactly why it's my favorite.

"When we're older, you should marry me. I'll take care of you and protect you from all those nasty bullies."

I blink, eyes wide, but I nod my head in agreement.

"Okay, " I say meekly, "do you promise?"

"Mhm!" He exclaims, holding his little pinky out for me to grasp.

But in the end, it seems that Jimin forgot that promise after all, and as a result I haven't been able to enjoy my favorite spot in quite a long time.

True, I have a minor crush on Kim Seokjin, even if he doesn't know that I exist. But at least that's better than being in love with your childhood best friend, who doesn't like you back.

At least, that's what I try to tell myself.

The reality of it is that I've been in love with Jimin since we were kids, and I've never forgotten. But as time passed, it seemed that Jimin had. Around the time we were sixteen, I'd thought he would ask me out. Up until that point, there hadn't been any change, he hadn't taken any interest in other girls, so I thought to myself that surely he remembered our promise.

That surely he liked me, as much as I liked him.

But then, one night, everything changed. He started talking to me about this girl that he liked, asking for advice, asking for opinions. Next thing I knew, he was dating a senior, and for a time, I was afraid that I'd become chopped liver.

Of course, that never happened. No matter how much Jimin messes around, or who he dates, he always makes me a priority for whatever infuriating reason. As a result, all of his relationships tend to fail as his significant other falls to envy and misunderstanding. The whole school is convinced that Jimin carries some unspoken torch for me, but I know better.

I shake my head, trying to banish these thoughts considering that it is Jimin I am going to see. I've kept this to myself this long, no need to go baring my soul now.

Maybe it was a bad idea to come back here, lord knows I haven't in some time. I'm half tempted to turn around and go back, make due with the empty manor and the emotionless marble. But I am not given the choice at all in the end, because Jimin has already espied my approach.

He comes running out the door, hair a mess and uniform shirt crinkled in a hundred different places. From his bedroom window, I swear I see a flash of long hair, and another school uniform.

I frown, realizing that once again, Jimin was not thinking of me in the slightest.

I feel like an idiot, sitting here thinking about Jimin in that way while he's off screwing, or attempting to screw, another woman.

"Oli!" He exclaims, cheerful grin plastered so heavily on his face that I know he is trying to hide his misdeeds. "I thought you and your dad had plans today after school, what happened?"

I stare at him, silently fuming to myself. He's not wrong. It's a weekly Friday ritual for Appa and I, and he's never skipped out on it before. Even so, I'm far too upset with Jimin right now to talk about Appa and his mysterious absence.

But honestly, do I really even have any right to be upset in the first place? Aren't I just being incredibly silly, holding onto a promise made when we were barely even grade school aged? I shake my head, dismissively ignoring Jimin's question despite the fact that he seems incredibly confused.

"Don't worry about it, " I retort.

I have to bite the inside of my cheek in order to suppress the anger in my voice, the hurt. "I'll let you get back to it, " I then quip, gesturing to the window where his lady friend has finally given up attempting to hide.

She waves at Jimin, smiling shyly.

He cringes, realizing that he's been caught.

"No, " he tells me. "She'll leave eventually. You're infinitely more important than a booty call. Tell me what's wrong."

He grabs my hand, leading me away from his house eagerly and I notice that woman in the window seems offended and upset.

"Does she know that she's a booty call?" I ask dryly, suddenly even more irritated at Jimin's heartlessness.

He scratches the back of his head with his free hand as we walk, and I conclude that, no, she probably doesn't.

"Stop changing subjects, " he pouts. "Where's your dad? Weren't you guys supposed to go out to eat together or something?"

"I don't know, " I sigh, finally revealing the truth. "He's not home."

"Let me take you out instead, " he offers, and despite myself, I smile.