An Encounter in their high school locker room changed Jimin's view, it leaves him unsettled. He is infected by troubling thoughts and dreams. Who will provide him peace now?
Something about the grease mixing with the sugar and carbonic acid-primed stomach lining works, however improbably, to keep the food down and ease the ache in my head. Once the sense of "it's gonna be OK" starts circulating in my body, I get a cup of black coffee. The caffeine focuses my thoughts on sharp lines.
This is what I think of as my breakfast of shame. Whenever I execute this program to recover after a night of debauchery, I imagine that I am at the center of an amphitheater filled with my pious ancestors, sitting in judgment of me, all of them shaking their heads at me as they watch. This was not only because of the alcohol I am not supposed to be drinking and the meat I am not supposed to be eating but because I am supposed to be better than this.
I am the only son of an only son, a golden scion of my family, supposedly pursuing a life of honor and success, living up to the high expectations of generations of my antecedents. And here I am, pathetic, hung-over, defiling women, and... worse. My mind blinks at the memory of Namjoon's hand squeezing my cock in the bathroom last night.
I imagine the shock and horror of... well, whatever that was... rippling back across the generations. I pinch my eyes shut to banish these thoughts. This morning, my technique works; the pain of my headache fades into a manageable dullness, and the bright light of the morning doesn't hurt my eyes as much.
A sense of general health descends on me as I contemplate my day. It is finally the weekend. I am caught up on chem and I am ahead of the reading in politics, but I have an algorithms project to do and I should probably start studying for midterms, which are always a shock to the system after only a few weeks of school.
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The empty hours of the weekend stretch out before me, I have lots of time to get work done. I am going to be fine. I am going to get back on track. In the amphitheater, my ancestors quiet down and some even start to nod their heads.
Back at the dorm, I check my bed for vomit. I puked in my bed, once, after a really bad night last year, and I am paranoid that I may have done it again. I am having a hard time remembering the events that occurred.
Narae had been here, I knew, we had been hooking up. I had gone to get condoms, and met Namjoon in the bathroom. That part burns bright with shame in my memory, but then, what? Narae had left, clearly. I pick up the unused three-pack of condoms.
I don't think anything happened. We didn't have sex... right? I put the condoms into my dresser drawer. I look around the room. It is incredibly cluttered.
Clothes are everywhere. I pick up all the clothes I can find and then pull the sheets off my bed. I take everything down to the basement and start a load of laundry, then come back and take a shower.
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There are a few other guys in the bathroom shower, but nobody I know, and thankfully, no Namjoon. Back in my room, I consider dressing and going to the library, finding my study carrel and spending the day there, but then, reminding myself that Taemin is gone, I figure I will just stay put. I put on my pajama pants.
