seduction in literature | p.jm + m.yg

01 | him

Jimin glances down at his schedule, noticing the odd arrangement of his lessons throughout the week. There are days where he will have to rush from lesson to lesson for the whole morning before ending at two in the afternoon, while there are other days that makes Jimin wonder if he should even bother coming to school at all. For instance, on Friday, Jimin only needs to attend a one and a half hour lecture on literature at 10AM, and his three-hour contemporary dance lesson only starts at four in the afternoon, leaving a long, odd break in between.

He grimaces as he sees the first lesson of the day. Monday. Two full hours of literature.

Literature is far from being Jimin's passion, for the pink-haired boy only chose it because it was a compulsory side elective. He remembers how flustered he'd felt when he stood in front of the college administrator, a short plump lady who was in charge of drafting every student's schedule for the year.

"I'm afraid you can't just take up dance, young man. Not even if you're taking a whole range of it," she hummed lowly as she peered into her computer screen. "That's not how it works. You need to have at least two other side electives besides your major, unfortunately."

She suddenly pointed to the university logo that was hanging proudly on the wall behind her desk, and she gestured towards the motto, printed in such a large font that made it incredibly hard to miss. "To nurture holistic, passionate and thinking young adults," she read out loud, emphasising when necessary. "You see, holistic. I'm sorry, young man, but you can't just... dance."

Jimin recalls how lost he'd felt, having barely recovered from the huge fallout he'd experienced with his parents just a few days prior. He felt sick, empty even, when his throat went dry, his brain in a mangled mess. And it was in that moment where Jimin realised just how much he'd been spoon fed by his parents, his will diminished to nothing but ashes as he gladly went with the flow just to please them. Again and again.

"So," the lady lifted her head to stare at him, a small assuring smile on her face. "Have you decided what other electives you're going to take?" She sighed as the boy shook his head meekly, and she spun around in her chair to grab a pamphlet before turning back again to place it in front of the sad boy. "Here, have a look at the list and read the description of what will be covered in class below each subject," she chuckled. "Don't you worry, many students do genuinely enjoy their time in our college by pursuing their dreams and whatnot. I'm sure it'll be the same for you, dear."

Jimin thanked the woman quietly, his eyes scanning briefly over the pamphlet. His eyes lit up almost instantly when he saw something that he's been interested in for quite a long time now.

"Vocal production," he murmured. "I'll choose that."

"Excellent," the kind woman gave a huge grin. "Just one more, sweetie."

Jimin frowned slightly when nothing else grabbed his attention, and the older woman prodded gently when she sensed that he was spacing out. Embarrassed, the boy didn't manage to organise his thoughts before blurting out, "Literature!" He was too stunned to say a word after, his brain screaming at his idiocy. Literature? Really? You hated language back in high school, Jimin.

He wanted to burst into tears right then and there.

"Great!" the administrator said enthusiastically, before typing something on her keyboard. There was a pause as she scrolled through whatever page was on her screen, giving Jimin time to recover from his shock. Just when he was about to speak, however, she interrupted, "Well, your language grades from high school fit our criteria, so you can most definitely take Literature! I'll draft your application now, dear."

Jimin was a bundle of nerves as he stood, perplexed, and the lady seemed to notice his anxiety. "Listen, you're not the first student to have transferred halfway through the year, jumping from a math-centred course to an arts course at that. It just means you're still discovering who you truly are," she said softly. "There was a girl just like you a few years back. She studied Life Sciences in some other college before realising that she wanted to major in Literature, and she sacrificed her old life just to explore who she truly was."

Jimin was taken aback, knowing that there was someone out there who actually understood how vulnerable he felt. "And that's why I think you've absolutely no reason to be afraid, child," the lady continued, a twinkle evident in her eye. "You've already taken such a big step, might as well embrace your new life, right?" The lady paused, before muttering, "Literature's good. You'll like it."

Jimin felt lighthearted, all of his worries instantly dissipating at the woman's assuring words. "Thank you," he choked back a sob as the woman patted his hand. And maybe, just maybe, trying something new wouldn't be so bad after all.

Well, at this moment, Jimin thinks that trying out something new is indeed that bad after all.

Stifling a yawn, he enters lecture hall 'L601', his cheeks instantly heating up as the students halt their conversations to glance at his bright, pink hair. Jimin fiddles with his thumbs as he quietly makes his way up the stairs, choosing a seat on the fifth row that is closest to the window. Jimin notices that the lecturer has yet to arrive, the time being 8:03AM. He looks out the window, trying his best to ignore how lonely he feels as he sits isolated from the class. The poor boy doesn't know anyone at all, and he awkwardly glances at his feet when he catches a few curious stares thrown his way.

You're such an introvert! Jimin screams internally. He wants so badly to reach out, to have the confidence to plop down beside some student and kickstart a conversation, to be able to be the centre of attention just once in his miserable life. And that serves to remind him of the power of dance, of contemporary, where he's able to drop everything and build a fictional persona on stage. That is the main reason why he enjoys dance so much: he sees what his heart yearns to be all along. What Jimin yearns to be all along.

He jolts in his seat when the doors of the lecture hall open, and Jimin's eyes widen as he takes in the familiar figure strolling in.

Black.

Jimin stares blatantly as he waits for the man to climb up the stairs, to settle into a seat that's surrounded with friends, to place the heavy stack of books down on the table before launching into a heated discussion about football.

But no, the man doesn't do any of that.

For the next few moments, Jimin sits still in his seat, his jaw wide open as time passes at an excruciatingly slow pace. He doesn't notice the sudden cease in chatter, and he doesn't hear the shuffling and unzipping of bags as students around him prepare for the lesson.

The only thing that snaps him out of his reverie, is the man's low voice as he settles himself behind the teacher's table, his eyes flickering across every student before landing on Jimin.

"Let's begin."