400 Minutes

Chapter 8

Jimin got a lot of backlash from his girlfriend about his orange hair. Whereas the clothes were something he could just peel of his sopping body (Yoongi and Jimin went back to their apartment laughing and giggling at themselves, not drunk from alcohol but something else they didn't know yet), his hair was something he had overlooked, it was something that would last 'til the next day. And it did.

He hadn't expected to hear the insistent knocking at 8:00am in the morning, Yoongi's loud whine of disapproval showed he didn't expect it either. Jimin heard the familiar excited squeal that was his girlfriend, and leapt out of his bed. He still had Yoongi's maid headpiece on his head, the older insisting he try it on last night, he ripped it off and slid it across the floor, stopping just beside Yoongi's bed. Yoongi was still in his maid costume, sleeping on top of the sheets so no one could miss it. His dress had ridden up his thighs, his ass on display for the world. Jimin hurried over and pulled it down by the hem, he didn't want Mirai to see Yoongi in such an indecent way.

He answered the door then, completely forgetting about the vibrant colour of his roots, well that's until she shrieked the moment she saw him.

"What have you done?!" Her hand covered her mouth, her words of despair rang throughout the hallway. Yoongi stirred, mumbling something that Jimin heard as ' shut the fuck up you whiny bitch oh my god' and Jimin tried not to snort in response. She told Jimin off for finding the situation a comedic one, before letting herself storm into the room. She just looked around angrily, as if she was purposely trying to find more things to be mad about. That's when her eyes landed on Yoongi.

"What on Earth is he wearing?" Yoongi was awake then, blinking up at her, a look of distaste on his face. His hair was messy and in his eyes, and he really looked like he had been through the wars and back.

"I think I look cute," He croaked out in his deeper than usual morning voice, his words hoarse. Mirai clearly didn't agree, especially by the appalled look on her face. She even dared to bend down and touch the fabric on his arm, Yoongi giving her death glares. Jimin was well aware that Yoongi didn't like to be touched without permission when it was a stranger, his looks could kill then Mirai would already be dropped dead on the floor.

"Halloween was yesterday," Jimin tried to explain, Yoongi switched to glaring at him for God knows what, "Same reason for my hair."

Mirai calmed slightly then, her mind probably coming up with some bizarre theories that Jimin would rather not know. Yoongi was sitting up on his bed, watching the discussion play out without actually participating in it.

"You're so stupid," She tugged at the hair, heaving with disappointment, "Do you have any idea how long it will stay like this? Can't you just dye it back...and today of all days..."

"What's today?" He questioned, taking a step back so she'd stop playing with his hair.

"Your mother's ball, idiot."

Jimin cursed loudly, his panicked self ran his hands through his coloured hair, somehow hoping it would magically disappear. His mother was going to murder him, quite literally. Having coloured hair as she introduced him to her business partners would be considered a joke to her, she would never address him as her son this way. He was unsure as what to do, but there wasn't much he could . He could dye it again, but he wasn't sure if he had the time to cover that. Not to mention his damaged hair who be more brittle than ever, he wouldn't be surprised if he gained a bald spot.

"Your mother already knows," Mirai shrugged, a somewhat smug smile on her face. Jimin didn't know the hell she would gain amusement for selling him out, especially to his mother, "She cared less than I thought. She said just wear an even more fancy suit to make up for it, and you can tell people you dyed it for charity."