[Her Relief] Namjoon FF

[Ride]

Nix P.o.V.
12:30 A.M.

Another boring night of me chatting with some 13 year old in middle school. The kid was cute but didn't know how to keep a conversation running and our chats became progressively more boring. I deleted his contact. Its been a week since my run-in with Namjoon and what-ever-her-name-was (her name's Okana. Perfect, pretty, precious Okana. How could I get her name out of my head?). It was the only thing that clouded my mind.

"Nix..." I snapped my head towards Otto's direction. "Can you pass me the salt, please?"

I did my best to surpress the fit of giggles that threatened to come out. Otto was talking in her sleep more frequently, and they always seemed to be about our family. I smiled at the memory Otto seemed to bring up. Maro, Otto and I sat in front of the big oak tree on our small plot of land on Jeju Island. Our dad was taking a nap on our mother's pregnant stomach on the blanket near the little creek.

Otto almost messed up our pot of kimchi when she put a lot of salt in, so Maro was threatening to hit us with a stick. We finished the pot and let our mother try some before we would dig it up into the ground. She went into labor a few hours later with our younger brother whom was stillborn.

Without realizing it, I had fallen asleep thinking about the day all of my problems arose.

----

"Nix! We're late! We're late!" Someone was pushing me and I was still groggy from the 5 hours of sleep I had received. Somehow, in the instant slam of panic, I realized that we had missed our bus. After fully awakening , I rushed to get my uniform on and Yoongi struggled to huddle everyone into the car. Taehyung and Otto were pushing each other into the car doors and Yoongi was falling asleep with a gray neck pillow as I drove us out to school.

We made it to the academy in thirty minutes of traffic and a fifteen minute break at a cafe for breakfast. As soon as we stepped through the gates we scattered through the rushing crowds to find our classes.

After hanging my backpack in my locker and sliding my binder into the desk, my table mate sat down. Park Jimin- the Busan transfer of dance. The girls always seemed to be crowded around him, but today was an exception. Tears stained his cheeks and his eyes were puffy from crying. I wanted to ask him why he was sad, but kept quiet, in silent fear of the hardcore crazed fan girls who hid in the shadows.

Instead, all I could do was sit there awkwardly while practicing the accompaniment for the choir. At some point, Jimin stopped crying enough to watch me practice. "Are you trying out for a part as the new accompanist?" I nodded in reply, looking back down at the sheet music and continuing the piece.

"Guess I'll see you at practice, then." The bell rang promptly after our one-sided conversation. The teacher for this art class walked in and all of my thoughts were occupied with the unpleasant dreams from last night. The teacher had called up a few students to show off recent pieces and progress on their sketchbooks.

"Ms. Nix, please show us your progress." Pulling out the thick two hundred page sketchbook from my desk, I put it under the projector and showed the current bookmarked pages I was working on. Pages of the bus stop and the playground were displayed for the whole class to see. I abruptly closed the sketchbook when I realized who the next picture was of- Namjoon. I quickly skimmed through the next few pages before walking back to my seat in a rush. I sat back down and ripped the page out to throw away after class ended. When the bell finally rang, the picture found itself crumpled on a pile of trash.

My efforts of getting rid of Namjoon's portrait was all in vain. I failed to notice Okana sitting in the rows behind me. And boy, was I angry when I found out that the same picture had found its way to Namjoon himself.