A GUIDE TO DATING MIN YOONGI

Lesson 7: Grab That Bag

Again it's been a week since I've last seen Yoongi. I'm starting to think we have some sort of seven day curse because I'm one my way to meet up with him at a nearby cafe once again.
I can already imagine his smug grin with his gums peeking through. However, this time, I don't really have a choice but to ask him for this favor.

***

One week prior

"She's your coworker?" I asked, sitting on the box again, committing my full interest into Jungkook's story.
"Yes but she used to work different shifts from me. I didn't get to see her until her hours changed. We work together but you don't really get the time to sit and chat when you're waiting tables."
"So then how'd you guys, y'know, get to know each other?"
He picked at his face nervously, "Well, when I first saw her, I thought she was really beautiful. Like, let me show you a picture. I was too shy to talk to her until about a few days ago when I talked to her on my break. I asked her out and she gave me her number," he pulled out his phone to show me the girl's Instagram.
She had a short brown bob which was half tied up. Her make up was light but it complimented her siren eyes. Her scrolled through her pictures for me which showed her either posing or in cool outfits I wish I could pull together.
"She is pretty cute."
Jungkook smiles, "I know right. Her names Xia. Such a cool name."
Jungkook talks on and on about Xia until he has to leave for the night. As I said my goodbyes to him, my mother walked up to me on the empty driveway.
"We need to talk." She said sternly.
I mentally groaned. I figured this was another talk about having friends over and curfews and blah blah. Im 21, they need to stop it already.
I walk back into the house and Father was already waiting for me, sitting at the table. Mother took the seat next to him and I sit across from the both of them.
"Jimin, we have something to confess." My Father says. I don't reply and wait for him to continue his sentence. "Your Mother and I do not want you to go to America. We think it's too dangerous."
I scrunch my eyebrows, "I know, we've had this conversation before. I know you don't want me to go but I promise I'll get something out of it and work hard and study and-"
"Jimin, we don't doubt that you will work hard but it's a foreign land, how're you going to navigate yourself?"
"I'll be at school most of the time. On top of that, I'm learning English."
"Yes but that's not going to stop all the dangers and risks of going."
I choke down my urge to start yelling. "Father, Mother, I've already decided. I'm moving in two months. It's only for two years."
"Yes but-"
"No, I'm going." I take a breath, "Besides, I've already paid for it with my own money. And you said you already paid the dorm right? So, what's stopping me? It would be a waste."
My Father looks down and hesitated as to what he should say next. Mother rubs his arm as to comfort him.
"What's wrong?" I ask when they don't have their usual argument.
My mother chimes in, "it's just that, we cannot afford the rest of your dorm. We paid most of it but..."
"Jimin," my father said, "Dorm in America is so expensive. Why'd you have to go there? Why couldn't you go somewhere cheaper?!"
The fire inside me continued to grow while it felt like a sleet of ice ran down my spine at the new information.
I blinked rapidly, "What do you mean my dorm isn't paid?"
My father sighed loudly and almost angrily, "We tried paying but it was 20,000 a year. We even asked the school if you can stay off campus but they said no. Jimin, we cannot drop that much money like that."
"Can't or Won't?" I grumbled to myself.
"What?" My Father said.
"Father," I gulped down the flames that wanted to come out so badly, "I've worked so hard for this! I've worked multiple jobs and put in so much of my own effort into this. For a whole year! Now you're telling me I can't go? Because it's easier to just not pay?"
I already know why they don't want to pay for my dorm. I can see it in their face so clearly but they don't want to say it. They know it's either the church or me, and they don't want to admit that God is more important than family.
I can feel tears well up in my eyes but I push them back with all the strength I have. I'll save it for later.
The room falls silent and all that is heard are my sniffles.
"How much do  I still need to pay?" I ask.
"15,000," Mother mumbles. My father doesn't even try to explain it or try to down play it. He just fixes his glasses and awaits my next move.
I storm away into my room.
Like a child being punished, I lay on my bed and hide my face into a pillow. I don't cry or shed a tear. I just lay face down and stay focused on my breathing. I try to block the conversation I just had out of my mind just to stop myself from getting too emotional. But the number 15,000 pierces through my heart like a javelin.
I've worked so hard to earn this money to go and Ive finally got my parents permission. Why does it feel like I'm always being let down? Why does God find it so amusing to punish me when I'm at my happiest?
I don't even want to scream or yell or anything. Im just so tired. I'm so tired of my parents controlling my life.
Im going to get out of here, with their help or not.
I roll myself until my whole front side is exposed to the ceiling. I'd have to work again soon. Could I even get a job so quickly? Where would I even work? How could I even guarantee I get all that money in just two short months? Minimum wage isn't going to cut it and I'd have to find one that fits with my college schedule.
I scratch my head violently, leaving a disheveled mess on my head. I try to wrack my brain for ideas but my only realistic option is to make enough money and then beg my parents for the rest of it until they say yes. Or maybe I could borrow from Jungkook?
My hands move frantically across the bed to look for my phone. Once in my hands, I immediately open messages. I start typing a message, trying to sound genuine and not like a scam. I get through a few sentences until I stop. He's still a college student like me, he can't just drop 15,000 dollars either.
I feel upset that my other option has fizzled out. However, I feel more guilty for feeling upset than being upset that I can't ask him for some cash.
I hold down the backspace on that idea and the bubble is left unsent and empty.
I let my mind spiral as I looked through my unread messages. Even when distressed, I still prioritize me clearing my inboxes. I open Yoongi's messages and I suddenly have the urge to mess up my hair again.
He had already sent me two prior messages asking for me to do that date with his friends. I'd already declined.
I scroll up on our texts, a bit amused at how quickly his tone switched from asking to authoritative. Then the spark hit me.
I started writing up my text but then stopped halfway through. No way I could ask him for that much money. $15,000 is something I couldn't even bring myself to ask Jungkook for. There's no way a stranger would let me borrow money like that. I bit my nails in nervous thought, but what if he would? I hated how my only reliance to get that money was now dependent on another person but I was desperate to do something.
On the other end of the phone, he could probably see the bubbles appear then disappear because he called me.
I let it ring a few times, not knowing what would be the right choice but then caved and answered.
His deep stern voice filled my room.
I immediately started to apologize for some reason.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to-"
"Jimin," he said, "you're meeting me tomorrow."
"What?"
"Tomorrow at Lyer's cafe. 9am. Don't be late or I'll go to you. I know where you live now."
"Uh yeah I guess. I don't think I have anything planned-hello?" He hung up.
I blinked. I had so many conflicting emotions fighting inside me right now.
Everything just was happening all at once and I didn't know how to feel. I laid back, letting my phone bounce on the bed and my arm to slap my forehead.
$15,000. That's all I could think of right now.
I'll get it somehow.

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