HELLO, DARLING | JIKOOK ✔

01 || I HAVE A BOYFRIEND

Fear and freedom.

They join cohesively as Jimin walks through the front door of a foreign bar, immediately being hit with the potent aroma of alcohol and cigarettes. His nostrils flare and his eyes sting at the jarring combination of addiction. It's most likey such a common occurrence to the people littering the floor of the bar that they don't process the glaring differences between fresh air and bar smell.

Jimin ambles toward the bar itself and while in the process of doing so, his arms are grazed by swaying bodies and his movements are rigid due to jostling, arbitrary drunkards. Already he feels out of place and yet he has no trace of courage left to return back home. At least not right now - not with his boyfriend there.

Ironic, isn't it? He feels safer while surrounded by several intoxicated strangers herded like cattle, rather than his own boyfriend since high school. Well, there's a reason for that.

It feels like an eternity before Jimin is able to reach one of the vacant barstools, taking a seat. His eyes follow the lady behind the counter whilst she moves back and forth, making her runs in between each customer. As soon as it's his turn to order a drink, he peers up at her through his lashes.

"Hi, Dear. What would you like to drink?" Her soft fringe falls down her forehead with ease, blending within the gentle curve of her eyebrows. Her smile is welcoming and Jimin appreciates the contrast.

"I've actually never been to a bar, before. I've never had a drink." Jimin can feel the embarrassment weighing on his shoulders imbed within his skin as her smile falters for a moment. However it returns and his heart slows.

"Okay, well what are you looking for? Something strong? What's the occasion?" she asks him while she wipes down the counter.

Jimin chews on his lip. He never really thought about the purpose behind his visit or what he truly intends to gain from it. Nonetheless, he manages to figure something out in the meantime. "Nothing too strong. I'm not trying to get drunk. Maybe just loosen up," he replies.

She smiles. "Sure thing. I'll whip something up for you."

Jimin nods his head and while she throws something together, his attention lingers to his lap. His small, curled up hands are resting against his thighs. He unfurls them, staring solemnly at the fading, red half-circles imprinting his skin. He isn't so sure that this will be a good idea in the long run. But right now, for some reason, it feels right.

A quiet exhale leaves his mouth and he looks over his shoulder for a brief moment, simply to take in the boisterous environment from a different angle. People are playing pool, almost every person in the vicinity has a drink in their hand. And if not for themselves, they're holding it for their friends. It's such an interesting atmosphere in Jimin's mind. These people get to do precisely what they please. He's almost enamored by it all, considering they get to experience what Jimin never really does. Freedom.

At first he believed that he was as free as they could possibly come. He never once doubted his relationship with his boyfriend when they were in high school and throughout college. As busy as they were after graduation, they could still find time to go out together. But that's when Jimin started picking up on the signs. He wasn't allowed to look at other men, nevermind speak to them - save for when ordering at restaurants. He was pressured to dress a certain way. The only skin that could possibly be visible was his neck, face and hands. Otherwise he'd be punished, and at first he thought it to be some kind of joke. He never really understood and so that's why he brushed it off for the time being. However it was when he got hit for the first time, simply for wearing ripped jeans, that he understood that Daeshim was not kidding. And that his punishments were going to be real punishments.