All your flaws and scars are mine (Namkook)

Chapter 1: Jungkook-sixteen

No one ever teaches you how to make friends. They stick you in front of another kid, expecting you to magically know what to do. No one explains the how. No one tries to validate your uncertainties. Sure, they can shove toys between you until you feel caged in by props, then, with a few encouraging words, send you into the lion's den. But in reality, you're a scared little cub. You're afraid of making one false move and getting attacked with harsh words. And sometimes those words turn into fists.

However, adults still believe in the ease of making friends. They forget how it was for them when they were children.

"Jungkook, you can make new friends. It's easy."

This was what Jungkook's father told him dismissively when he finally got his long-awaited promotion. Jungkook didn't want to move from Busan. It was his home. It was where Jimin lived.

But for Jungkook, it wasn't so easy. No one wanted to talk to the shy, new kid sitting in the corner by himself. How do you make conversation? What do you even talk about? What if you say something stupid?

Jungkook begged to stay with a relative so he wouldn't have to move schools and make new friends. He had one friend—a best friend—and wanted to keep him close. He was the only one able to get into that proverbial cage with Jungkook, settling the little cub with his warmth, patience, and affection.

At eighteen, Park Jimin was loud, talkative, and flamboyantly gay, and he didn't care who had a problem with it. And in Busan, a lot of people had problems with it, everyone stuck in their old ways with no room for weirdos.

There were a lot of coaxing and quiet moments, but having a talkative best friend helped fill the silence with noise. Jimin was patient enough to wait for Jungkook to trust him with his thoughts. He waited for Jungkook to feel comfortable with him, and it resulted in a close friendship filled with long-lasting memories.

Now, packing his belongings, Jungkook looks over at his best friend, who sits silently on his bed. There's a gift in his hands, covered in beautiful golden wrapping paper. He's been adamant that Jungkook doesn't open it until he finishes packing up the last of his room.

His bedroom stands empty of all the memories accumulated throughout his sixteen years of life, now packed away in boxes. All that remains is his mattress, now sitting off to one side of the blank wall, with his best friend sitting on top. He looks at him now and childishly wishes he could pack him up in one of his boxes and take Jimin with him.

Jungkook approaches him and sits down next to him. Sighing, he wraps his arms around Jimin's small frame and rests his chin on his shoulder.

"Can I have my gift now?" Jungkook asks quietly.

Jimin shakes his head no, knowing that giving Jungkook his gift would mean the end of them living next door to each other. They lived close enough that they could hop over to the other's house, climb down the lower roof, and knock on the window to crawl into each other's bedroom. This was especially useful if they were grounded and wanted to sneak around. Their parents never found out.

They sit on the bare mattress, thinking about the things they're going to miss. No more trips to the mall. No more trips to the beach, where they would go to escape the noise—noise Jungkook would inevitably encounter once he'd moved into the city.

Jimin sniffs, clutching the gift in his hands, before looking at Jungkook with watery eyes and shoving it into Jungkook's lap. Jungkook lets go of him to unwrap the square-shaped object, tossing the pretty paper on the floor.

"It's a photo album," Jimin states in a low voice. "All of our memories are in it, so you won't..."

"Forget you? Hyung, I'd never forget you." Jungkook forces out a laugh, trying to lighten the mood, but a lump forms in his throat. "Besides, we can still call each other, and when you graduate, you'll go to Seoul National," he says, setting the album aside, "and you'll study dance there, and we'll be together again."