Late Night Radio || Yoonmin #Wattys2018

♪Secret For The Mad♪

Jimin Focus

Heavy feet dragged across the threshold of his home and tired shoulders rolled back in his tight school uniform.
Jimin had spent the entirety of his day trying his damn hardest not to give in to three things.

1. Sleeping in the middle of a class during finals week.
2. The festering, angry will to toss his pathetic desk table off the third story of his school building.
3. Check his phone for messages from a certain white haired hyung.

The last proved to be the hardest as he flipped out his device for what was probably the zillionth time that day, only to come up with his lock screen and a few stray notifications from the BTRadio chat app and SoundCloud.

BabyG: AugustBound just liked your song 'Gasoline Demo (Troye Sivan Cover) by BabyG and Vante'
BabyG: AugustBound just favorited your playlist 'Rainy Days'

He sighed, ripping off his school jacket and undoing his tie along with two of the upper buttons of his white dress shirt.

It's been a week. Why hasn't he texted? They hadn't met up for a good while- Yoongi always briefly telling him that he was busy or working whenever he brought up going out. ("Well what if I came with you?" "Jimin, please, I'm working. Why not bother one'a your other friends into fucking around with you after school.")
He hadn't talked to him like that since they first met last summer. The blonde had this unsettling feeling in his gut that maybe he'd done something wrong... but he just couldn't remember what?

Taehyung's contact name popped up in a small grey banner on his phone- wild emojis telling him that it must be something important.

Yah Main Hoe Teatea👾👅💦🐯: dude!!

Yah Main Hoe Teatea👾👅💦🐯: 🐵🙈🙉🧢🙅🏻‍♂️🤦🏻‍♀️💃🏻🦃🦌🌝🍾⛸🚔🚲🚨🚨🚑🚒

Yah Main Hoe Teatea👾👅💦🐯: PICK UP YER DANM POHNE!

Jimin frowned, checking eighteen unanswered phone calls.
His mother walked towards him with an bleak expression covering her face with blue ash and negative feelings.

"Sweetie, you're home." Her voice was clipped and she looked tired. Her salt and pepper hair seemed lifeless- missing its normal shine as she held herself up against the wall of the foyer.
Her son could smell it immediately- nearly as soon as he stepped forward to pull her into a tight welcoming hug; the unmistakable, sour smell of liquor.

"How much has he had?" He whispered, stroking a soft hand from her head and down her back. She was shaking, but if Jimin were anyone other than her son he wouldn't have noticed.

"Just a bit, but something must've happened at work." Jimin stiffened, taking in a deep breath and blowing it out through his mouth in a large, silent sigh. The room was well lit, so much that it was blinding in the fading daylight. Nothing about this light was warm- it was crisp and terrifying like the fluorescents in the hospital room he'd spent a good month in. Not exactly something he'd prefer to come home to. The sensitive part of his arm ached with the muscle memory of the IV needle that'd stabbed through his skin.

"It's fine he apologized for a few days ago. He's just in a rut. You know how he gets." His mother said with a foreboding smile. She was trying, she really was- he knew that- but how could she just forgive him with this kind of behavior?

"You know it won't last... so why do you keep up with this?"

"Jiminie, sweetie I know you would prefer it if we got divorced and trust me I would too but I don't make enough income. You know that. Just wait in your room and put your headphones in." She advised, pulling away and tutting his backside for him to hurry along.