"Let's talk sex."
He was a spark, a wildfire of flames that intended to set her heart ablaze, and she was merely another doll-faced student who was too easy to mess with.
EXAGUSTD, 2021
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Mirae hey! im sorry for last night I was very drunk lol
I am sat perched on my seat with my phone clasped in one hand and my bottom lip tugged underneath my teeth as I go over my messages to V for the hundredth time on the loop. I'm a nervous wreck when I text him my apology now, and I'm worried about having him make fun of me for being so careless. And he is going to bring this up one day, if not right away.
Jimin, Yawang, and Mila are at the table as per usual, all of us physically present and mentally exhausted through the intoxication from yesterday. It is evident in their faces – the frustration and the existential crisis after getting so high off of weed, only to follow it up with a bland Saturday morning and I'm sure my features read the same.
Thinking about how I had told all of them off for causing a ruckus makes me sick with hypocrisy. How entitled am I to tell them anything, when getting high and partying all night was all I did yesterday?
Yawang and Mila look perfectly okay except for the dull, drab grey sheen over their tired faces. They have a knack for pulling drugs off and I'm too scared to ask them about it before coming clean about my oh-so-holy night with Jungkook. I don't even remember half of what happened and I'm merely seconds away from passing out because of the sour taste in my lips and the consistent throb across my forehead.
Only Jimin is talking to rid the air of its awkward sparks and I know I'm not paying much attention to him. I'm trying hard to jog my memory down the events from yesterday – a haze from when Jungkook had me against the wall and a fully blank slate from after I threw up all over Yoongi.
Until Jimin says something extremely thought-provoking and it's the epitome of enlightenment I've heard all my life.
"You know, I'm like Ramen," the knowledgeable man speaks through mouthfuls of instant ramen noodles.
No one responds to that.
Yawang and Mila are barely moving and I don't look up from my phone until he repeats himself in a high-pitched, nasally squawk. My eyes narrow at the boisterous sound and the nation's clown gives me a satisfied smile.
"Why, Jimin?" I grit out sweetly. "Because you're cheap and easy?"
My friend shoots me a wink before slurping into his noodles, "it's because I'm twenty-four-by-seven hot and wet and I'd slide down your –"
"Okay!" I wince at the sound of my own voice as I exclaim. I purse my lips together before slouching into the seat again.
Yawang rolls her eyes, "we get it Jimin – you're hot and wet and very ... flexible. We get it, you want us to listen to your wise words of wisdom and preach your principles to the whole world – we get it, Jimin, you're your own species and we are grovelling to get on your level."
My jaw slackens at her upheaval and I frown at them in confusion as Jimin passes her a stiff smile. Not sure of wanting to fuel whatever is going on, I lower my eyes to his chopsticks as Jimin snaps it around a bunch of noodle threads, blows against the waves of heat and helps himself to another mouthful.
