Late Night Radio || Yoonmin #Wattys2018

♪From Here♪

Jimin Focus

Pathetic.

That's exactly the word Jimin felt he could level with the best.
It'd taken him four days after Namjoon had offered him a job at the station.

That is: One day to come to terms that he was angry at Yoongi.

He was angry at Yoongi because- god damn it why hadn't he told him? Why couldn't he have waited until the shock of his parents potential divorce had settled in his mind? He was never speaking to Min Yoongi again. He hated him for being an unsympathetic dickhead and that was that. Hoseok, Jin, Namjoon and the job offer to shit. Jimin never wanted to see him again.

A second day to realize he was frustrated with the older.

Frustrated at him for dragging out what could've been a two second confession when they first started working with each other. What could've spared him months of going off about his beloved idol- which was also him, Min Yoongi. What could've saved him months of confusion and pining and complete, burning embarrassment.

A third day to touch base with the thought that- yes, alright- he wasn't angry and he by no means hated the stupidly sleep deprived worker.

He couldn't hate him and he couldn't truthfully tell himself he was angry. Yoongi had trusted him with this- maybe even waited so long for an honest to god reason.
Jimin sat in the middle of the ceramics room on the fourth day with a frown on his face and juice box crushed in a clay-caked hand at the thought of Yoongi being torn over even telling him.

If Hoseok and Jin's texts over Snapchat were anything to go by, he'd hurt his hyung by running away.

"Mr. Park, I understand that all artists have blocks and sometimes it can be hard to find an inspiration." Mrs. Jung mused, wrinkly hand flapping about like she was casting spells. "But what am I supposed to make of this... eh- expression?" She wiggled her fingers questioningly at the sad, pathetic, mound of terra-cotta clay on Jimin's work space.

"Uhm-" The student tried searching deep deep down. Quick! What could he pull out his ass to get her to move on?

"Because it looks liked you've kept it in Ugly Duck. Only pointlessly even uglier." She said pointedly.

"Ah- yes, well..." His teacher huffed, blowing a stray strange of frizzy grey hair out of her view from her alligator green half-moon specs.
Her beaded necklaces made a skittering sound as she practically fell over the table to eye his piece.

"This piece feels sad Jimin. What are you trying to tell me?" She sent a look at him before turning the wooden slab the clay was on to get a full view. "Hoseok came by at lunch asking if you were here? Are you two in a skirmish? Are you both doing weed- dear heavens to mirgatroid-"

"No, Mrs. Jung. Nothing like that." Jimin laughed- honestly wishing that maybe it was just that simple. The old lady calmed and gave him a fighting pat on the back, telling him to 'Use that fire! Glaze you're emotions! Kiln your anger!'
The student said he try his best, watching her walk away before mumbling his next words to nobody in particular; hell maybe it was to the lump of half dried clay in front of him,
"But I think I am having a fight with another friend."

He let out a low belly sigh, tossed the empty juice box in the trash, and picked up his clay, getting up to send it through the roller and maybe just make the slabs he'd need for a box when the door slammed open behind him and he was tackled into a hug.