TAEKOOK ¦ i'm not straight

i'm not: having this

now playing... hard for me, doyoung

.

JUNGKOOK:

Although not my best day, surprisingly, school wasn't the worst of things as the day went by. I had my hardships in English, but everything soon passed after Tae came to stand by my side.

I'm thankful for him, really.

Since my mood has been uplifted by the angel he is, I decided to decline my mother's offer to drive me back him with herself and my brother. I felt the need to have some fresh air, as well as simply taking the time to walk around and enjoy the outdoors.

It's been a while since I've done anything like this. I'm usually locking myself indoors, with no particular reason.

I simply rather stay hidden away in my comfort zone. No problem there.

Not until that's the only place you could ever find me. There, and school, unfortunately. Suffocating myself in my own breath and stress clearly isn't doing much for my health and well-being.

I mean, look what happened in Mr. Kim's...

I'd prefer to keep that whole situation on the down low, but I am very well aware that my professor will start a discussion with either my mom or, simply me. A discussion none of us would like to have, but due to the laws of science and humanity, it'd be necessary.

Even if I don't see much purpose in the whole conversation.

My thoughts run around my head as I take my last few steps leading up my driveway to the entrance of my homely house. Turning the key in the lock, I open the door with a wide smile.

The smell of raw cookie dough filling the air as I approach the kitchen, where I find my mom, I give her a nice big hug and kiss on the cheek as I greet her.

"Hello, Mama," I start after she returns the gesture. "What's this for?"

I automatically assume she's making these for me. Jimin has a big mouth, he wouldn't not tell my mom about the whole presentation situation. If not, clearly the school, or Mr. Kim himself, has most definitely called her by now. It'd be ridiculous to keep this from her.

"Your brother."

- Eh? -

"Why? What happened to him?"

"Some kids were making fun of him." She calmly replies, seemingly giving off a defeated tone.

Seriously? 

'Kids were making fun of him' is the most 5-year-old excuse for baking, which my mother doesn't often do just 'cause, for Jimin.

It's either I'm missing a big part of the story, or my mom has given up on hiding the fact that my older brother is obviously her favourite. No doubt on that second one, she's a terrible liar.

Forcing myself against any remotely negative comments on the situation, I respond with a quiet 'oh' and slowly make my way out of the kitchen.

On any other day, I'd immediately head towards my room, to pass out right onto my bed. But I can't leave Jimin alone, especially when I know something's up with him.

Being the great younger brother I am, I follow my instinct by walking to the back door leading to our garden outside, knowing that my brother wouldn't be anywhere else when he's in his 'mood'.

As I had suspected, I find him sitting on the couch-swing rocking back and forth looking down to his hands, tears flowing down his cheeks, occasionally whipping them off with his sleeve. I can't stand seeing him like this, he's a generally very joyful person.