Awake | Jinkook ✓

4.0

He still didn't have the other's last name. And he wondered as he slipped back into his car, the new number saved to his list of contacts, exactly why it mattered so much.

...

There were, realistically, other families that would serve their needs. Other families that also had male omegas which would make just as good matches as the Kims. That his mother was so fixated on them seemed strange, until you actually began to dig below the surface. The Kims weren't just rich - both in money and alphas - but they were powerful, with their reach extending far beyond Korea. All of Asia seemed to be, at least partially, under their control, be it through their business ventures of their political aspirations.

Which was, according to his mother, exactly what they should desire to be.

...

There were no less than fifteen missed phones calls from his mother, growing increasingly erratic before suddenly calming back down. Thanking him for being on his best behavior and representing their family so well. There was another, even stranger message from Mrs. Kim, letting him know that her precious Seokjin had vastly enjoyed his company and they would very much like to set up a second date.

He had absolutely no idea what in the world was going on, but apparently whatever poor sap had been unfortunate enough to be mistaken as him had done a good impersonation. Now all he had to do was hope he somehow got just as lucky the second time around.

...

"Let me get this straight." Baekhyun was currently perched on the edge of his desk, both hands pressed against his temples like he was desperately trying to fight off some approaching head ache. "Seokjin didn't show. But your mom and his both think you went on a date?"

"Maybe he lied?"

"Oh yeah, my guess is he walked in, saw you, realized he couldn't stand spending the rest of his life with someone who looked that good and then decided to lie about it after."

"Please be serious."

"Oh I am. I'm absolutely certain that's what happened. Can I go home now? Like, permanently?"

"Sorry to break it to you, but you're stuck with me."

"What did I do to deserve this?" Why had he ever decided to make friends with Jimin all those years ago in preschool? "Let's look at this rationally, okay? You don't want this, so chances are he doesn't either. He probably just fucked off for the night then told his mom it went great. I mean, that's what I would have done."

"Okay but what am I supposed to say when my mom starts hounding me for details?"

"Tell her you don't kiss and tell. That should throw her off for a while."

"I'm going to have to tell her eventually."

"Sure. Just maybe have a few more dates with your little cutie first. Who knows, maybe he comes from a perfectly acceptable family and your parents will marry you off to them instead."

"That's never going to happen and we both know it."

"Dream big, Kookie. It's the only life you're ever gonna get to live for yourself."

...

Dream big. If he did that, he would have his entire escape plan thought out and ready to put into action by the end of the day.

...

There was still no direct way for him to contact Seokjin. Mostly because his mother absolutely insisted that everything be done through her. Silently he wondered if all of their conversations were always going to have to involve her. He could see it now, ten years into this sham of a marriage and they still didn't speak directly to one another. Just in a series of messages passed between them via Seokjin's mother.

Honestly, he was completely expecting to be stood up a second time, for this strange cycle to start over and repeat. He still wasn't sure what he was supposed to say to continue this lie he hadn't even know what taking place. He wasn't even sure which part he was meant to play. So he just kept it simple, formulated some generic date within his mind and set about going through the motions.

...

Nothing.

At least it was entirely expected this time around. At least he only wasted an hour of his time waiting around, looking like a complete and total idiot.

And if he should be texting another omega on the way out of the resturant, asking if he would like to grab that other dinner he was apparently going to pay for, then he was the only one who needed to know about it.

...

Jin was every single word everyone had used to describe Seokjin, but somehow made them pale in comparison to the beauty and grace he possessed. Everything he did seemed utterly flawless, and even if he did stumble and fall, the way he picked himself back up screamed of a poise Jungkook wasn't sure he'd ever witnessed on anyone else.

Jin was everything he would have wanted if he had been allowed to choose for himself. And he tried desperately to keep that thought buried. There was no use wishing for something that could never be.

...

Jin was also a liar. But he didn't know that yet.

...

"Your future husband stand you up again?" If Jin came from some small, unimportant family the way he claimed, he really wasn't sure how he continued to dress so well. Currently there were tailored slacks adorning his short legs, and a long sleeved pink button down gracing his upper body, making his torso look like it went on forever and perfectly showing off those incredibly wide shoulders. Sure they both appear simple, but Jungkook was at least capable of spotting designer when he saw it.

"What makes you think I'm not looking at him?" Flirting came so easily with Jin, an ebb and flow that he should have been suspicious of.

"Because my last name isn't influential enough."

"I wouldn't know. You still haven't told me what it is."

"Then I guess that's something you're just going to have to earn."

...

Things like names had always been an important part of the social status hierarchy. It was, in reality, a system that they had attempted to destroy, to break apart until only those with the oldest money and the strongest hold remained. Sometimes it felt like they were living in a completely different world, so far removed from the one that was real that he would never be able to claw his way back. That he would never know what life was truly intended to be. No, he would always be trapped in this constant struggle between old and new.

Once, he had believed that the old ways were best. That hundreds of years couldn't possibly have gotten it so wrong. That there hadn't needed to be some massive revolution. That the struggles of his family, of other's, was placed upon them unfairly.

Then he had gotten past the age of ten and read an actual book and realized just how wrong it all was.