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it starts like this.
it's seven at night on the freeway and seokjin could care less about the the juice from his ice cream running down his fingers. his sunglasses do little to stray the blazing sun from burning his goddamn corneas off, even though it was seven and summer nights aren't supposed to last this long. this ain't the warm romcom fizzling out on their broken vcr with the tanned girls and nice cars (both of which seokjin could obtain easily, it's just that he's a lone wolf and he likes the battered down aesthetic of the '65 chevy convertible he's got, thank you very much), and seokjin could care less. he sticks his fingers in his mouth to suck up the ice cream before slamming his hand into the steering wheel. the horn beeps, loud. he smirks.
he don't need no sun bakin' his face, have you even seen his face? he's the epitome of beauty, which isn't without precedent (or evidence, trial and jury. what is this, the courthouse reruns his younger brother watches, thinking he might become a lawyer and become the family golden boy instead of the family disappointment, like seokjin?)
he isn't heated, that's for sure. he's cooler than cool, a melona ice pop in the summer blue.
he tilts his head back and stares at the expanse of the road through hooded lids. yeah, he's heated. you can tell he's heated because he's got that kinda look on his face and there's melon juice on his lips and there ain't a girl in the passenger seat who's smilin' at him with matching sunglasses, her legs kicked up on the dash as she sings some stupid pop song that seokjin only pretends to like. she ain't got a care in the world, or so she says, and seokjin won't believe it but it doesn't matter 'cause the thump of the bass matches the thump of his heart. that girl left the sunglasses in the car that seokjin hasn't bothered to get rid of (couldn't bear to get rid of).
he chews on the stick of his ice pop, accidentally whapping himself in the face when he bites down. shit, man, when did he finish that? he swears he had half the ice cream to go, that's just disappointing.
the relationship was doomed from the start, possibly when seokjin very first laid eyes on her or when she never seemed to say no or when she never called after eight or when she never kissed like she meant it. seokjin's not very good at telling when people mean things, always been very real, very open. he was just that kinda guy. but apparently that kinda guy doesn't suit that kinda girl—
seokjin jerks the wheel toward the nearest exit. long drives aren't good for getting your mind off of break-ups, apparently. seokjin's always been kinda stupid but it's fine, 'cause he's the family disappointment.
he pulls up to a gas station, low. his car doesn't need fuel but he does, and he's probably gonna buy a box of melona and probably forget about it and probably end up getting mad at himself when it melts all over his backseat.
this is a very probable scenario, seokjin thinks as he enters the gas station to buy ice cream. like, a good eighty percent. probably ninety, seeing as he's heading towads the freezer section. damn, and he failed high school stats for this?
