Double mind (Yoonmin/Taekook)

2. Dying Hamlet

"Who is that?" Mr. Han was looking straight at me so I cast a quick glance on the desk to my right where Soram had her book open.

"Rafael Santi." I said hoping I haven't mistaken that famous painting with another one.

The whole class answered with laughter, even V was almost crying into his sleeve.

"If you would give the effort to listen in my class Mr. Park you would know I'm asking about that delinquent there, who is even more absent than you."

I glanced to the back to discover a boy lying flat on his desk with the books placed underneath his head like a pillow napping shamelessly.

"That is my roommate Mr. Han, but I have no idea what his name is." I stuttered when the room was shaken with almost hysterical laughter.

"It's time for you to put your life together Mr. Park." The professor looked at me with pity returning to the board when I sank deeper into my chair, hoping the class will finish quickly.

"That was hilarious." V was walking towards the practice room with me after lectures.

"That guy is the problem. Don't you see it?"

"Because you can't take your eyes off him?" V winked.

"What is your problem? I'm the straightest guy you will possibly ever met and even if I was as gay as you, that creepy one with Smurf socks would be the last one I'd ever touch." I sprinted into the dance studio grabbing the key to the practice room Miss Yu the receptionist has stretched my way.

I was working as a dance teacher after classes, my new-style and modern dance lessons have always been packed, mostly with giggling high school girls who were coming to me with tons of ridiculous questions, calling me "Mr. Park" while blushing deeply.

"Mr. Park can you show us your abs?" Asked one with pink hair and a nose piercing two days ago while I was sure I'd like to dissolve into a magical hole in the ground.

That high school girls were so thirsty it was driving me crazy. Maybe I had girls throwing themselves at me too easily but hey, there were borderlines, especially when you're fifteen and your dance teacher is a grown up man who has been using opportunities for easy sex more than he should.

I wasn't the most proud of my bachelor lifestyle, not the most bothered either.

The practice room door banged shoot and the mirror reflection revealed V, who walked inside in that usual slow, a bit nonchalant way. The long coat in a coffee late shade was composing with the white shirt and silky black pants he was wearing. The pad in his hand was opened while he was biting on the edge of the electronic pen as if considering a life or death choice.

"Don't disturb yourself." He said sitting down in front of the mirror. "Will you mind if I make a few sketches of you dancing."

"Do whatever you like." I hissed switching a powerful ballad on, leaving the shoes, my later jacket and baseball cap next to a chair in the corner of the room.

V was sitting there with that expression of a dying Hamlet while I was trying my best to pretend he wasn't there.

'Can you love someone like me?' Sang one of my favorite female artists when I looked up to catch my own stare in the mirror.

That freaking mess of blonde hair falling in all directions, that round cheeks of mine, the pulp lips I've been proud of as girls really liked them.

I moved my gaze away falling into music becoming one with rhythm and speed. I was improvising, the cool floor like a remedy to every heartbreak. Just me and music, me and dance.

I completely forgot V's existence and that he was drawing something on the screen with that gloomy expression.

'Can you really imagine, to love someone like me?'

The next line of the song popped out in my head spoken by a low rough voice of my freaky roommate causing me to fall from an arabesque and hit the floor hard.

V raised his brow.

"The floor is sweaty, I mean slippery." I jumped up flipping my matted hair back.

That freaking bastard, what was he doing in my head, wearing that strange pajama in teddies and Smurf socks, holding a bowl of my cereal while biting on a spoon, watching me with that hideous irritating ironical expression.

"Have you found out what his name is?" I asked walking for the water bottle.

V raised his brow even higher.

"Min Yoongi." He answered with a confident grin.

Thank you for your feedback on the story, I hope you're enjoying it so far. What do you think about Jimin's job and him thinking about his roommate? Will V find out Jimin is picturing his roommate more than he should?

Much <3