Luck had never been on his side. It simply wasn't a trait that the gods had decided to bless him with. Once upon a time he had joked that perhaps they feared making lucky and beautiful would simply make him too powerful, a force to be reckoned with that they weren't quite sure how to control. There were worse things, he had mused then, back before the storm that had swept across his life and heart and left them both in tatters was even created. There were worse things in life than being beautiful and unlucky.
He wished he could take that statement back.
...
"I wouldn't call him ugly."
"You don't have to. His face took care of that."
"Would what he was offering you really have been so bad?"
"What are you trying to say?"
"That if I looked like you I would not be wasting my time waiting tables."
"And what would you be doing instead?"
"Honestly? Probably finding the first rich guy I could stand looking at and throwing myself at him."
"Then it's a good thing I'm not you, isn't it?"
...
Some form of this conversation took place practically weekly, a tradition he was certain his friends had taken turns carrying out. Constantly suggesting that he was wasting his time, youth and vast beauty relegating himself to being locked away in some stuffy little restaurant for the majority of his life. Like they could somehow convince him simply by force of repetition.
Only the message always seemed to fall upon deaf ears, turning it down just as constantly as it arose.
That didn't mean he didn't think about it. Didn't consider. Didn't wonder why he was slaving away to barely even scrape by. But the thoughts that would follow weren't filled with delusions of grandeur, of what cars and clothes and vacation homes. No, his mind always drifted to scenes of soft affection, gentle kisses placed upon his forehead, on his nose, on his full lips. Of arms around his waist, drawing him in until all he could see or hear or feel was the object of his desire. Of his love.
Money wasn't love. And he didn't need someone to buy his.
...
"Before you say no -"
"No." He didn't even allow the words to finish leaving Taehyung's mouth before he was speaking in return.
"- just hear me out." All of his friend's were used to this. Used to him being the perverbial stick in the mud. "It's not even gonna be that crazy."
"I told you before, I'm not interested Tae." Partying just wasn't his thing. Sure, it also meant that his only real way of ever meeting this fictional, perfect prince charming he had dreamt up inside of his mind was them walking into his place of employment, and in two years no one close to that ideal had even glanced in the door.
"It's Friday night, Jinnie. Don't you think it's time you live a little? You know, go out and be young for once."
"I live plenty." Considering his night plans currently consisted of microwaved ramen and the latest episode of his favorite drama, that statement couldn't possibly be less true.
"Listen -" Taehyung was entirely aware that he was probably not going to get anywhere. They all tried over and over and over again, only to yield the exact same results. "- reading a cheap romance novel while curled up in bed is not living."
"You don't have to call me out like that." But it was true. And every single one of his friend's knew it. "Who did you say was throwing the party again?"
"One of Yoongi's friends." Which, alright, he hadn't been aware that Yoongi even had other friend's outside of them, but alright.
"... Will you let me raid your closet?" It wasn't that his was boring - only that's exactly what it was. All solid colors and clean, crisp lines. The wildest thing he owned was a pair of black shinny jeans that had, at once time, been delicately and tastefully ripped. Until the last time he had agreed to partake in this entire mess and Taehyung had ended up adding a few unneeded flairs.
"Will you wear those jeans?" Curse their minds and the fact that they so often thought exactly alike.
"They have holes in the thighs." The upper, inner thighs to be exact, showing off too much skin far too close to places he didn't want eyes to linger.
"Yeah, that's kind of the point." Seokjin wasn't exactly what one might call insecure when it came to his body. But he was also aware of the fact that apparently the beauty of his face and the clearness of his skin just hadn't translated all the way down. He was almost painfully skinny, with little bits of stubborn fat still clinging in all of the wrong places. Those aforementioned thighs, making them appear thicker than he wanted. His hips, so they flared out from his devastatingly tiny waist. Pair it with the unfortunate wideness of his shoulders, and it just wasn't the figure most wanted in a partner. Too feminine and too masculine to fit into either category comfortably.
"But -" Unconsciously his hands went to his thighs, smoothing over the rough fabric of the pants he currently wore. Matched with a simple white button down, his normal apron already taken off and thrown over a nearby chair.
"But nothing." Taehyung effectively cut him off, moving to stand as he spoke, reaching out to take his hand, tugging him from the comfortable spot he had found and across the apartment. "Come on. Let's go get you ready."
