Smile: Rewritten

"I'm so proud of you, Jisung!" You cooed when you learned that your baby brother earned his first part-time job.

Jisung mumbled, "Ah, cut it out." He couldn't fight his smile as he squirmed to escape your efforts to pinch his rosy cheeks. "I don't act like this when you make the honor roll at your college!"

"That's because my academic excellence has become expected, almost unimpressive," you joked confidently. You almost choked on laughter when Jisung groaned at your mock arrogance. "But you-" you poked his arm- "you've always been a precious baby, so it's weird to watch you step into the adult world."

Long ago, Jisung accepted that he would always be a baby in your eyes. He didn't waste his breath arguing that he was kind of, basically, technically an adult. He blinked at you and rested his head against the couch. "I don't think about it like that. It's just a job at the cafe, and I'm only doing it because my friends are."

Spending time with Jisung was refreshing because his simple, youthful outlook challenged your habit of overanalyzing. That aspect of your relationship hadn't changed since you enrolled in the local university. Jisung was still very much your baby brother. Yet, as he laid back and stretched his legs over your lap and his socked feet dangled off the arm of the couch, you realized that he was growing up. He was growing up, and he didn't think anything about it. Meanwhile, you mourned every second of lost youth. To Jisung, the next steps in life were an exciting adventure with his friends.

What would it be like, you wondered enviously, to be like Jisung?

You wouldn't ask. Even if you did, Jisung wouldn't have known how to answer.

He playfully wiggled his toes into your ribs, and you laughed while swatting at his legs. A voice sounded through his headset. The words were unintelligible, but the tone was unmistakably annoyed. They prompted Jisung to sit upright, plant his feet on the carpeted floor, and unpause his video game. Although his gaze was fixed on the flashing screen, he covered only one ear with the headset.

He heard you ask, "Who is that?"

"Jaemin," Jisung whispered out of the side of his mouth and covered the microphone so his friend wouldn't hear.

Because he was playing with just one hand, Jisung caused his team to lose. The loss was evident from the crimson text- "YOU LOSE"- filling the black screen, the slackjawed frown on Jisung's face, and especially from the shrieks breaking through the headset.

Jisung chanted, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," but the shrieks rang on.

Your face flushed. "Still Jaemin?"

Jisung's answer with a nod. He didn't bother to push away the bangs that had fallen into his eyes.

"What is he even saying?" You hissed.

"Nothing really," Jisung shrugged away from your question.

You were overprotective of Jisung; you wouldn't deny that. His willingness to defend his buddy despite his flaring temper fuelled your frustration. Maybe, you thought later, you shouldn't have disliked that Jaemin kid without having met him.

Rolling your eyes, you demanded, "Tell him that it's just a game. You can play again until you win."

Jisung shook his head and calmly explained, "That's the worst thing to say to a raging gamer, Y/N-"

"Are you talking to a girl?" Jaemin roared. "Is that why we lost the tournament? Because you're flirting with a girl?"

Sensing that you were reaching to snatch the headset to rival Jaemin's temper, Jisung stood tall on the couch so you couldn't reach his head no matter how hard you stretched. He huffed at Jaemin, "I'm talking to my sister, not flirting, and I have to go!" He disconnected the headset and turned the game off before you could say anything to threaten his friendship with Jaemin.