Time ➳ BTS

01 | Jake

Fuck my life.

These thoughts consumed your mind as you sprinted through the bustling streets, weaving through the crowd with as much grace as you could, issuing hasty apologies to those you inadvertently jostled aside.

You were late for work again, and your friend, who doubled as your somewhat boss at the café where you were employed, would not be pleased. Lately, your days had been punctuated by distraction, an unrelenting fog that caused you to lose track of time and place, leading to tardiness with alarming regularity. Even during your shifts, your mind would drift, making it difficult to focus on the tasks at hand.

Your excuse this time?

You had been ensnared in a marathon viewing session of "My Little Pony," a series that had captivated you until the early hours of the morning, keeping you awake until 4 AM.

Yes, despite your age, the "magic" of that children's show remained irresistible. It held a nostalgic charm that you found impossible to relinquish. Your friend, who had taken to teasing you mercilessly about this, often remarked that you were a child trapped in a woman's body. That infuriating scoundrel.

After all the running and heavy panting, you made it to the café and stormed inside, making a few customers gaze at you weirdly before you laughed nervously with tinted cheeks and walked in a fast pace behind the counter to finally start your work.

You were all this time oblivious to the eyes that were watching you with a silly smile on their face.

"Late again, huh?"

Startled, you whipped your head aroung to look at the owner of the voice and sulked when you saw him. "Damn you, Jackson."

He laughed at you and shook his head. "What's your reason this time?" He asked.

You nervously tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear before answering him. "Uh... My Little Pony?"

He gazed at you weirdly. "What the fuck?"

"Next time, don't be late again," He came closer to you and you felt his hot breath on your left ear. "Or I won't play nice, babygirl."

Instinctively, you slapped him with the back of your hand, and he doubled over with laughter, clutching his stomach. You glared at him, feeling a mix of embarrassment and annoyance.

"Next time, don't do that again," you warned, stepping closer until your faces were inches apart. "Or that pretty face of yours will get used for something else." His eyes widened at your words, and a flush crept up his cheeks as he stuttered, caught off guard by your boldness.

You smirked at his state and walked back to the counter but didn't forget to flip your hair at his face. That's how you play, boy.

Jackson had always been the perverted one ever since you met him in high school. He would constantly 'play' with a banana, dramatically shoving it into his mouth while making inappropriate noises, much to everyone's irritation and amusement.

Occasionally, he would flirt with you, and you would reciprocate, engaging in a playful banter that never crossed the line into genuine feelings. It was a game, a way to pass the time and strengthen your bond as best friends.

In truth, you didn't have many friends, but you cherished the close-knit circle you did have, just four trusted confidants who made up your world.

First, there's Jackson, your best friend. Second is Jenny, another best friend. Then there are Mark and Wonho.

Mark and Wonho are both adorable dorks but can turn into hulks when they're angry, and it's not a pleasant sight. It's like a third world war is about to break out. They treat you like a sister, often petting your hair as if you were a dog. Mark loves to prank you, and whenever he does, you run straight to Jackson or Wonho for protection, ensuring Mark gets a good beating out of it. Not literally, of course.