Destiny.

e

Students were entering the class while I was in the corner as always, laying my head in my backpack.

Mr.Hong, the director, stood up in front of the desk before ordering to us to sit down. He adjusted his glasses and looked at his watch before saying:

"You had art classes today. But your teacher claimed he won't be coming anymore. Wich means that you won't study arts for three or four sessions." He continued while students started groaning.

I really liked art. It was the only subject where I didn't sleep, and payed attention to it. I even had good grades last year in it, and I'm planning to enter Busan's Art school after this year. Because yeah that's my last year in highschool.

"We will replace this session for this time with maths, so you could go home earlier." The director continued before quiting the class and letting maths professor enter.

I rolled my eyes than turned my head the other way to sleep. Again.

I didn't know how two hours have passed until I heard the ringing bell.

I took my backpack with me and got out from the class and passed through the hallways. Fortunately, Yoongi isn't here but it's not like a give a shit about it.

[...]

"Jungkook is that you?" I heard my mom ask trough the kitchen when I entered the house.

"Yeah." I answered quickly before going upstairs and entering to my room.

It was dark, even if the sun was lighting up the grey walls of my room, even if the windows were opened enough to let the sunlight kiss my bed and the black leather couch in the corner.

But it still felt dark. I never felt happy in this home, I never felt it nice to live here. I never felt any of it. I always felt like I was caged in the midst of these four walls surrounding me.

I sighed before changing my clothes to confortable ones as my grey sweatpants and a dark blue tee-shirt. I casually layed in my bed holding my phone and scrolling trought the messages.

No message, what's new?

That was until I felt a light buzz in my phone. So I checked to see it was a call from an unknown number. Probably of someone who is mistaken calling the wrong number.

Who would waste his time calling me?

I picked up the call, putting my phone against my ear and listening closely to the voice through it

"Hello?"

It was a soft feminin yet masculine voice, a slivery one talking with a low tone.

"Who is it?" I asked closing my eyes to feel the cold air crossing the window to meet the diaphanous skin of my pale face.

"It's Jimin, the guy from Starbucks."

I don't even know how I managed to stand up this fast and step with my naked feets on the cold grey glaze floor.

"Jiminie! I didn't know you would call me." I said with a light smile on my face.