A Misguided Guide To Survival [BTS]

IHOP and Jeongguk's Horrible Girlfriend

Menton, one month ago

Hoseok laughed with his parents at some joke (that actually wasn't all that funny) his father had made. They'd taken him out to this nice, very expensive, restaurant as a final going-away gift for when he went off to college.

"Ahem." His father cleared his throat and stood, tapping a spoon against his glass to get the attention of everyone at the table. His coworkers from the business he would pass onto his son stopped their merry chatter and looked to him.

"To my son," he toasted, "who got into the best business school. We couldn't be more proud."

Glasses clinked together, and the laughter resumed. His mother kissed his cheek and his sister rolled her eyes but gave him a joking punch on the arm. Across the table, the daughter of one of his father's friends was making eyes at him, biting her lip and fluttering her eyes. Everything was perfect.

Except, Hoseok wasn't going into business. He was going into dance.

Except, Hoseok wasn't going to the best school, he was going to the furthest.

Except, Hoseok wasn't going home with that girl across the table. Or any girl for that matter.

Except, Hoseok was gay and sad and nothing to be proud of.

"Hey, um, actually," he said, standing up and tapping his glass like his father had a few seconds before. "I...I'm not going to business school. I'm going to dance school! In New York. Oh, and I'm gay! So, uh, thanks for the dinner! It's good to eat before I dance, so I don't get tired out too quickly,"

Maybe he's had a few too many glasses of red wine.

The table went silent. The girl stopped fluttering, opting to stare at her drink intently. His sister dropped her fork. His mother clammed up and wiped her lips as if to rid her lips of the touch of her son's skin.

Hoseok felt his heart thumping in his chest, and he was sure the table could hear it. His father stood up and fixed him with an angry gaze.

"Leave." It wasn't a question. Hoseok nodded and took the muffin he'd been eating. Picking up his suit jacket from the back of his chair, he bowed at his father.

"I'm sorry, father," he apologized.

The silverware and cups and plates all rattled as the burly man sat at the head of the slammed his hands onto the surface, face reddening in anger.

"YOU," he roared, "ARE NOT. MY. SON!"

Hoseok nodded and turned his back, walking away.

As soon as he got to the bus stop, he burst into tears.

Dorm number 317, 6:13 pm

Hoseok looked up at the sound of his dorm room door opening. A tall boy stumbled in, not drunkenly. Just...clumsily. He had purple hair and a giddy smile that brought out his dimples. Hoseok sighed before rolling out of his bed and gluing a sunny smile on his face.

"Hi! Nice to meet you, I'm Hoseok, and you can call me Hobi. Need some help with those boxes?"

The boy smiled and handed him the box in his arms, which appeared to be filled with office supplies and pictures wrapped in wax paper to protect them.

"I'm Namjoon," the boy said, tripping over a shoelace and miraculously landing his box of clothes on the bed. Hoseok just nodded and set out the pencils in a jar that had flowers painted on the outside.

Namjoon worked in silence alongside Hoseok, folding his clothes and putting them in his bedside dresser, plugging in his lamp, making his bed. He was clumsy but kind and he always me Hoseok's indiscreet stares with a gentle smile.