Room A6

Oil or Acrylic

All of the other boys were sat at a rectangular table, sketching out design plans for a backdrop. As Namjoon walked toward them, he stopped in his tracks, as he saw one of the boys stand up angrily, and launch a sketching pencil at another's head. Namjoon wasn't sure what could get so heated in Art Club, but before he knew it, the pair were screaming at each other.

Namjoon sped up once more, and when he reached the table, the arguing seemed to lull into minor bickering amongst the group of six. When one of them noticed Namjoon, he was immediately dragged into the depths of the argument.

"Hey you," he said, pointing at Namjoon, "You know anything about paint?" This boy's hair was a vibrant shade of orange that blended well with his darker skin, which absorbed the tones.

"Well, yeah. I know a little. Why?" Namjoon retorted curiously.

"We need to paint a backdrop the size of the moon in four days." he groaned, "Should we use oil or acrylic paint?" the kid asked, gesturing toward the massive board stood behind him.

"If you only have four days, you should use acrylic. It's a no brainer. Oil would be too tedious," Namjoon said, confidently.

The boy who threw the pencil stood up and laughed, "I told you guys! Oil takes too long to dry!"

It was odd to Namjoon that paint types could trigger such violent outbursts, but then again, these kids seemed to take art pretty seriously. Namjoon sat down at the table, and one by one, each student introduced himself. It reminded Namjoon of the first day of school all over again. Except this time the students initiated the icebreakers, instead of the teacher.

~

"I'm Jin, and I'm a senior," one boy said. He had brown hair and stood taller than most of the boys. Jin had broad shoulders and a sturdy build, which made Namjoon wonder why he spent his time doing art instead of athletics. He had a just face, and kind eyes, which made Namjoon feel welcome. And on top of that, his hair was neat, and so were his clothes. He seemed to have his shit together, and that irritated and infatuated Namjoon all at once.

The boy who threw the pencil interjected abruptly. "My name is Yoongi, and I'm a senior too." While Jin seemed like the poster-child for being clean-cut and poised, Yoongi was the complete opposite. He was the artsy kid of the group, through and through. His hair was bleached blonde and it seemed fried. He looked tired—he looked a mess. While Jin wore straight blue jeans with a belt, and a white polo shirt, Yoongi wore a paint-stained black hoodie and dark washed, torn skinny jeans that sagged so you could see the waistband of his boxers. He had on a snapback, with a paintbrush tucked behind his ear. Jin may have been more put-together, but it was obvious that Yoongi was in charge. Yoongi did not have his shit together. Namjoon respected that.

The next boy was the type of person Namjoon's father would call a 'character'. His hair was neat (maybe even too neat). He dressed neatly and preppy, and to the naked eye, he seemed like the most average person ever; but boy could he talk. He talked, and talked, and talked. He was hyperactive. Namjoon managed to pick out that his name was Hoseok, he was a junior, and he was also in dance club. In fact, just after saying that, he sprung up from the table, grabbed his bags, and ran out of the room—to dance club. Namjoon figured it was the last he would see of the busy Hoseok today. Hoseok was an active member of the community, and he was the only boy of the group that Namjoon recognized. In fact, everyone knew him. You couldn't miss him. Hoseok was very involved in the school. He fundraised, worked with the student council, acted in class plays, and drove everyone insane. He was a well-liked kid, which Namjoon envied. It's not like Hoseok was a jerk, but Namjoon couldn't get the bad taste of popularity out of his mouth.

"Hey! I'm Kim Taehyung, I'm a Sophomore!" One of the boys exclaimed, all too enthusiastically. Taehyung was the one who apologized for Hoseok's abrupt departure. He seemed like a chirpy and easily excitable boy. His hair was as vibrant as his personality. Taehyung had on joggers and a t-shirt. He dressed like every guy Namjoon knew. Simple, but stylish. He was glowing, and oozed positive energy from every pore. He was truly happy, and Namjoon was happy for him. Usually he despised upbeat and joyous people, but he didn't despise Taehyung; because Taehyung didn't rub his happiness in Namjoon's face. Taehyung was just being himself.

The second to last person to introduce himself had a reddish-purple bulb forming on the right side of his forehead. He was giving Yoongi the evil-eye (clearly), and all he did was reach out across the table to shake Namjoon's hand. He muttered, "I'm Jimin. Sophomore..." Namjoon felt it funny that the boy who got hit with a pencil was still so bitter about it. He could tell that the sulkiness wasn't in Jimin's nature, and he was sure he would meet the real Jimin very soon. Jimin had neatly parted hair, and he dressed very casually. Very, very, casually. He had on pajama pants that were plain and blue, and a crewneck sweater on that said NETTLE LAKE in large, bolded letters. For a sophomore, it really seemed like Jimin was done with trying, and Namjoon hated it.

Lastly, there was a boy who had on a varsity football letterman jacket, and was the biggest jock Namjoon had ever seen. He was muscular, as far as Namjoon could tell. He was a genuine athlete. Not like Jin, who just looked the part. This kid meant business. "I'm Jungkook, and I'm a freshman." What? Only a freshman? Namjoon's ears were burning. This kid was the epitome of everyone that picked on him during his freshman year. He'd never generalize someone, but god did he hope he wouldn't need to do to Jungkook what he did to all of those assholes that ruined his life before.

~

"Well, I'm Namjoon," he said, finally introducing himself, "I'm a junior. I don't know much about art, and I've never been in a club—but I mean, there's a first time for everything."

"Well what do you like to do?" Jungkook, the athlete, said, standing up and leaning with his hands on top of the table.

"I rap, mostly. Music and production," Namjoon didn't want to sound too cocky, "Whatever though... It's not a huge deal,"

Namjoon directed his attention back to the sketchpad on the table, and he sat down, "What ideas do you guys have for the backdrop?"
It was unlike Namjoon to presume the alpha-position in a group of new people. He wasn't much of a leader type, but these guys almost put him there. They briefed him on the subject at hand, and they respected his ideas. It was strange, how they all seemed accepting of him. Namjoon didn't expect to be so quickly welcomed into the group. No hazing? No rituals? No sadistic ways of proving yourself to the club? It all seemed too good to be true.

Art Club was like the Island of Misfit Toys.

He still wasn't thrilled to be there, but he'd do anything to get into a good college out of state.
The six boys weren't jerks. Namjoon figured that only spending an hour a week with these guys wouldn't be half bad.