Keeping Me Up || Yoonmin

Clumsy Bubblegum Prince

Yoongi's POV
I sat at my desk, back to the darkness as I stared down at my load of homework for the night. My roommate had come in to offer some pizza but I humbly turned it down with the doubt of being able to stomach it under so much stress.

"Hey, I'll be in my room if you need any help." He mumbled before shutting my door. Two years of college with the guy and we still hardly even dared trying to hold a conversation. I wasn't too sore over it since I was more of an introvert anyways- every now and then though, I wished I could talk to him a little more to feel like less of a fail at the whole 'College Life' expectations.

Normal students go out after classes with friends. My mind scolded me. How lame are you.

"'K" I replied with a sigh, opening up a thick book to start my dreaded psych homework. Even just after the first class I found myself regretting putting Psychology down as my minor more than I regretted getting dragged into my high school's drama class and being forced to be the gender swapped heroine in our production of Twilight.
To break things down, my friends had a good laugh and I got called Billy for the rest of the school year.
My roommate had to be one of the smartest people I'd met out of my two years of college. He spoke fluent English (though it wasn't his first language), he took three upper division math classes his freshman year and was looking to major in neurology

I on the other hand had my major chosen for me by my parents and was stuck in business for four years of college.
Just looking at the title in the corner of the page gave me a migraine.

'Psychology 1: Infant/ Toddler Learning & Development- Chapter 5'

After a good hour of staring mindlessly at the text, it was already close to eleven o'clock at night.
Fuck it. I thought.
Standing up from my desk, And stretching my tight muscles, joints crackling in my knees as I took my first few steps towards the door. I grabbed my wallet and apartment key, taking a moment to admire the Kumamon keychain my friend Hoseok got me before we started college, and headed out.

After walking a good few blocks, I'd reached my destination. I squinted up at the illuminated sign reading 'Vincent's Coffee'. The workers were rude as fuck (me being one of them) but, in the least, could hold a decent conversation.
Half of the workers were art kids-excluding myself- and were some of the craziest people I knew on campus. Most would walk in for their shift covered in paint or charcoal and messy looking materials while others would come in soaking wet and covered in suspicious thick goop. I tried not to talk to those guys.
While its workers were odd, the shop had a comfortable atmosphere that made it manageable enough for me to work in every Tuesday morning before class.
The walls were an off white and had various Polaroids hung up along the farthest end of the shop as soon as I walked in, light bulbs screwed into jam jars and strung on a thick black cable. The floors were dark wood and a path was marked with several shoe prints of paint and stray splatters or streaks thanks to some of the students that sprinted two blocks straight after class for their shifts.
Small succulents grew in the windows and yellow picture frames hung up puzzling coffee puns in bold English letters reading stuff like "blend in" and "bitter end" along with Hobi's favorite "expresso yourself".

"Hey gramps, what'll it be tonight?" A familiar face asked from behind the counter, loose grey button up and glasses making him look straight indie as hell.
Two things he was any thing but.
I rolled my eyes, pushing the gold frames of my glasses high on the bridge of my nose and sighing.

He looks weird as fuck in his work clothes. I thought, judging the lack of pastel mum shirts and pink crocs I'd come accustomed to over the years.