The Chariot

Crushed

"That's the student?"

"Yes, sir. There's too much proof for it to be a mistake."

"Good. Ruin him."

Unnecessarily long hours of training were one of those things that slowly ate away Jungkook's initial interest in Taekwondo. Dusk approached and he was itching to go home with his Playstation welcoming him in his attic room. Much to his annoyance, his nemesis, the president Jinki with his stupid observant eyes had never failed to keep Jungkook in check.

Jungkook wants to leave.

He resorted to texting his best friend so he could bail out of the gym. Swiftly pressing down on the keys, his friend replied before he could even send the text. Seems like Jimin had been waiting for him to beg helplessly for his assistance.

Jimbo
say no more, i gotchu (*'▽'*)

It didn't take long for Jimin to arrive and make his way to the president. He winked in Jungkook's direction and Jungkook could only roll his eyes. Soon after, they're already hitting the streets on their skateboards to get dinner before going back to Jungkook's place.

"Say, Jimin, don't you want to get a driving license? You're old enough for that," Jungkook suddenly asked out of nowhere, swallowing the bite of cheeseburger as walked.

"What? Of course not. You got me into skating and I have attachments issues with it now," the shorter male replied in his usual high pitched voice.

Jungkook kept silent, only observing his friend from the corner of his eyes. Jimin was the type of attractive that catches a lot of attention, flashy, so to say. Instead of wearing the standard white collared shirt under the uniform coat, Jimin wears a white hoodie. He even ditches the boring leather shoes for stylish trainers and his hair is so strikingly pink and silky that it blinds people early in the morning. His personality however, can be irritating at times, but it's charming in a way. Jimin was his own brand and Jungkook admires that about him.

The loud clinking of the keys when Jungkook took them out of his pockets had alarmed his aunt and she opened the door before he could.

"Hey..." Jungkook slowly and awkwardly said, as he observed the older woman in front of him looking like she just woke up from an eight hour nap. Knowing his aunt, she most likely did.

"'Sup, Ryujin!" Jimin chirped, taking his shoes off before he went inside up into his friend's room, burger in his mouth. Ryujin simply stepped aside, pulling her matted dark brown hair into a ponytail.

Jungkook did the same as Jimin, except he just closed the door behind and looked at his aunt in his most exaggeratingly disgusted face. "What's up with that face? Fuck, you smell like shit..." she did the same face, a finger covering her nostrils. Curious, the younger boy took a whiff of himself and nodded, acknowledging that he actually does smell like shit.

"You're the visualization of how I smell. Anyway, how's your day?" The brunette male dropped his bag and coat off on the couch, rolling his sleeves up to clean up the shithole that is their house.

Ryujin adjusted her robe before going back to watching some American sitcom on the television. "Busy protecting you, brat. Kim's asking for you again and again," she said nonchalantly. Jungkook remained unfazed by the old, incessant news.

"Why don't you just give me up to them then? It'll cut you some slack. A lot of slack, actually." He looked at her silhouette from behind.

A pregnant silence filled the room even when the laugh track of the sitcom was playing.

"I'd rather die than give you up to the likes of them."

☆

Jungkook walked into his room to see Jimin, his very eccentric friend playing a hack-and-slash game on his Playstation while yelling out exclamations. "Devil May Cry? That's ancient dude."