Black Glitter || Min Yoongi

0.1

"Min Yoongi jjang jjang man boong boong, come back here I swear I'll wrap you in bubble wrap and push you down a cacti covered cliff!" I yell as I chase my best friend of three years down the hallway of our school. You see, Yoongi loved to steal my sketchbook and show everyone my drawings. He would always say they were amazing and that they needed to be shared with the world, but I don't think so.

Yoongi was quite the character. He was lazy yet extremely energetic, he was grumpy but so happy at the same time. He was a living contradiction. His gummy smile always gave him away when he pretended to be upset. The crescent shaped eyes that adorned his face would crinkle when he laughed and his nose would scrunch up. In all honesty, it felt like he wasn't even human he was so perfect.

"Hello? Earth to Indie!" Yoongi brought me back to reality by waving his hand in front of my face. We made eye contact and he gave me his signature derp face before handing me back my sketchbook.

"Come on we need to get to class," I state, dragging him along by the wrist. He was in a grade above me, but I took all AP classes so we had the same blocks throughout the day. First we had Maths, second we had English, third was History, fourth was Music, then break, fifth was science, sixth was art, and our last block we had a study hall. Typically during study hall, we'd ask our art teacher Mr. Shin to stay, but sometimes we'd go home early.

Yoongi and I lived about a block apart in separate apartment buildings. My parents often worked out of country, mostly in Thailand, so I would always be home alone by myself. yoongi's parents passed away when he was young so he lived with his aunt up until last year when he got his own place.

"Hello class," our teacher, Miss. Chan, greeted. All of the students stood and bowed, before being seated.

"Here we go again..." Yoongi muttered behind me. Both of us found our classes too boring, all except Music and Art. Time flew by and it was already time for our lunch break. both of us grabbed a water and headed to the rooftop. Typically the stoners and cigarette smokers only came to the roof, but we were the only exceptions. For some reason they accepted us into their little groups and eventually let us do as we please as long as we don't mess with their cancer sticks or leaves. Often times we'd return to our classes catching whiffs of smoke from our clothing but it didn't bother us.

"Indie," Yoongi nudged my shoulder, "do you want to skip today?"

"Yeah, I'm not really feeling it."

"Let's eat with Sunmin first, though, okay?"

"Yeah sure." I smirked, knowing Yoongi and his prankster antics. Sunmin was one of the school's stoners, but he was also one of our really good friends. He was quite handsome and very easy to scare. Creeping up slowly behind the tall boy, both Yoongi and I grab his arms and cover his eyes. Sunmin's shreak pierced the sky and frightened the nearby pigeons. Laughing, Yoongi and I sat beside him and drank our waters.

"What the heck you guys... really? Again?" Sunmin asked

"What else do you expect from the dynamic duo?" Yoongi replied, fist bumping me in the process.

"I don't know, maybe a cake every now and then. Show some compassion for your fellow man."

"Okay, just because you've got the munchies doesn't mean we are going to bring you cake." I laughed. Sunmin grumbled and took another drag from his joint, blowing the smoke through his nose.

We ate in silence, often laughing at Sunmin's mental state. He would go on and on about how medicine is all a placebo and how the universe is so cool, but we'd never get to see any of it. He also told us his dream to really truly live. He wants to feel alive in a world full of dead minds. He's pretty deep for a stoner, if you ask me.

Once we finished, Yoongi and I bid our farewells and began to walk to he art room. Mr. Shin knew about us skipping, but he didn't really mind. He knew we did well in all of our classes, and we always did extra favors for him. As we walked in, Mr. Shin glanced up from his desk, raising an eyebrow.

"What're you working on?" I asked him.

"A pastel drawing of our school. The administrative board asked me to so they can put it up in the transfer office," he replied in a dull voice.

"Neato," I returned, "we'll see you later Mr. Shin, stay cool."

Yoongi nodded his head and we exited through the back door of the art room. Typically the door is used for supply deliveries, but we use it to our own accord.

"Stay over at my house tonight, okay? I'm tired of being all alone over there," the boy whined.

"I mean I don't have a closet full of my clothes at your place for nothing," I snicker.

"Shut up."

"You love me." I poked his nose and nudged his side.

"Never."

"Yoongs don't make me shove a pencil up your nose."

"Oh like you'd ever." He rolled his eyes.

"Wanna bet?" I ask with anticipation in my voice.

"Yeah I be-" He couldn't finish his sentence because I had already stuck a pencil up his nose by its eraser.

"INDIE WHAT THE HELL!?"

"What? You said I couldn't and I did," I say in a sing-song voice, grabbing him by the arm and skipping down the sidewalk.