Raise the Barre

Chapter 7

Fifteen minutes later, Jimin pulled to a stop at the edge of the curb.

Stepping from the sidewalk, you hastened to the passenger side and opened the door. Your wait had mostly been uneventful, but you hated standing alone in the dark for any longer than necessary. Sliding into the passenger seat, you pulled the door shut and turned sideways to face him.

"Thanks," you exhaled, seeing him for the first time tonight.

Jimin looked sleepy, as though your call had woken him up – which it probably had, since it was near 1:30 AM. Yesterday when you spoke, Jimin had said he planned on going to bed early. He was dressed in what Noelle would've called a groutfit – grey sweats, grey hoodie and silver-framed glasses. You blinked at these, not having realized Jimin wore contacts.

"No problem." Jimin stifled a yawn. "Seat belt."

"Huh?"

"Put on your seat belt." He nodded at the strap by your side.

"Oh – right." Hastily, you pulled this across your chest. "Thanks."

Silence fell as you did, the awkwardness increasing with each passing second. Usually, you were better about things like car safety, but everything about this moment felt surreal. Jimin had given you his number barely twenty-four hours prior – you highly doubted this was what he had in mind when he said he'd call.

"I'm sorry," you blurted, unsure what to do.

Jimin's lips twitched. "It's fine, Y/N."

Glancing his way, you found Jimin's profile dimly lit by the streetlights. He sat spread-legged in the driver's seat; one hand placed casually on the shift. When he caught you looking, Jimin arched a brow and shifted the car into drive.

Pulling from the curb, he merged into traffic headed away from the club. As the bright lights of Excelsior disappeared into the rearview mirror, the cars on the road became few and far between. You drove in silence, city lights striping Jimin's profile in black and white.

Finally, he cleared his throat. "Is everything okay?" Jimin asked, too casual to be normal.

It took you a moment to answer.

Usually, you would've responded yes even if it weren't the case, since no one truly wanted to hear about your problems. Asking someone how are you? in the city was the same as a nod hello. It wasn't genuine interest in another person's well-being.

Tonight though, your usual responses caught in your throat. Tonight you felt tired, frayed and dangerously thin at the seams.

Everything was not okay, and you weren't sure how to say otherwise. Your usual walls had been torn, leaving you with this sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. Your fight with Finn had been a big one, even worse than the argument a few weeks ago.

Still, Jimin was a newer friend to you – if you could even call him that. It wasn't fair to unload all your problems on him. Especially at such a late hour and especially not when he was the one doing you a favor.

"Yeah," you said at last. "Everything's fine."

Jimin paused, as though he knew this to be bullshit.

"Let me rephrase," he said, shifting in his seat. "Anyone's ass I should kick?"

You laughed a little, surprised by his threat. "No, no," you said, shaking your head. "Nothing like that."

"Good." Jimin's smile faded. "So, what happened then? How'd you get stranded?"

He didn't ask why you called him, but the implication was clear in his voice. Honestly, it was a question you had no good answer to. All you knew was when you were standing on the curb, staring at your phone and wondering who to call, Jimin was one of the first people to pop into your mind.