EUNBI
March 7, 2019
"Fourth pair. Kim Taehyung. Kim Yewon. Fifth pair. Jeon Jungkook. Jung Eunbi."
We looked at each other, waited five seconds for dissatisfaction to peak, and rolled our eyes at the same time. As for people who despised each other, we did it way too often and our synchronization was way too flawless.
It must have been my punishment for something, to be always paired with this asshole. He was so wrong to believe that because he was famous and successful, he could behave like a king, superior to everyone around. I always tried to avoid him, but coincidence was stronger than my trials, and he ended up being the first person in top five people I interacted with the most.
I hated everything that could be done with him, but sports classes were a complete disaster. He was always an asshole, but if it involved sports, he was an unbearable asshole.
The teacher blew the whistle to silence everyone, and we gathered in front of her. Jungkook stood next to me, but far enough to not make our arms touch. We threw sneaky glances at each other, making annoyed faces. At least he hated me just as much as I hated him.
"Jeon, Jung. You will be flirting later. Now focus," Miss Jang said. They were probably supposed to laugh. No one would dare, whether Jungkook was around or not. The word would get to him, that someone laughted at a joke about him, and he'd act like the world committed a crime against him.
"We are not flirting, miss," he said, right after making a disgusted face to show everyone that even the idea of it was unacceptable.
"Whatever," she mumbled, one more time blowing the whistle. "Here are the rules of today's exercise. Boys on one side of the net, girls on the other. You stand in pairs I assigned. Boys have odd numbers, girls even. Number one gets the ball, passes over the net to number two. Number two passes to number three. Three to four, and you repeat that until everyone touched the ball. If you fail to touch it, or pass it over the net to the next person, the entire side of the net loses. Winners get good marks, losers leave with nothing."
I never understood why sports classes in college were so intense and serious.
I only attended because I had to get a mark. If I could avoid the experience of professional athlete Jungkook bossing everyone around, I would. I wasn't the only one he despised. He despised everyone, and everything, and never failed to show it. But I was the only one who gave him back what he put out. Other people were afraid of him, for some reason. Maybe because they saw him in action, and I never saw a single match of his. I wasn't willing to check it out. He was just a spoiled brat, and whether he was good or bad at boxing didn't bother me.
"Put some effort into it, would you?" He told me before we started. I had a (dis)honour of passing the ball to Jungkook. I was a weak 4'11, while he had an additional foot to make it easier for him to pass the ball over the net.
"Take the stick out of your ass, would you?"
I was not in a mood to start a fight with him because I didn't manage to 'pass him the ball well' so I asked the teacher to lower the net.
The exercise went on for six rounds without a fail, until it was Taejoon's turn to pass me the ball. He zoned out, and woke up last minute, hitting the net. The ball bounced off of the ground on the boys' side, along with a bunch of groans coming from them. Most of them would just give a whine and forget, laughing around with Taejoon a minute later.
All of them but one, overly passionate professional athlete. He was not a fan of losing, and it made an appearance as another point on the list of reasons why I disliked Jungkook. With dislike being a really polite way to describe my attitude towards him.
As soon as the teacher left to give us the marks, Jungkook was on it. "Are you that stupid that you can't pass the ball over a fucking net?" he asked.
Taejoon stepped back, as afraid of him as all those people who didn't even dare to speak. How ridiculous was that? How fucking cocky and uncompassionate you had to be to think the world revoled around you and everyone else was below you?
"I- It was an accident," Taejoon mumbled, looking down.
"You are a fucking accident," Jungkook said.
I didn't step into many fights between Jungkook and another innocent victim. But this time was one of those I couldn't keep to myself. It wasn't anyone's fault that Jungkook was angry for no reason, and no one deserved to be treated like that.
"Pathetic athlete," I said, crossing my arms over my chest, loud enough for him to hear. It wasn't hard – no one else gave the slightest sound. Jungkook paused and turned towards me like he was about to use me as one of his punching bags. Despite our endless bickering, he never raised his hand at me. Good. If he tried, he would have been dead by now.
"What did you say?" he asked, lowering his voice in an attempt to make me regret my words. I would never regret calling him out. He left Taejoon, passing under the net. People in sports class witnessed our fights in every class, and I apologized to them every single time. I felt bad that they had to listen to it, just because Jungkook couldn't keep it in himself for aa few more minutes, and for a more private setting.
This time, though, I didn't want to keep it private at all. I wanted everyone to hear what I had to say. In some utopian scenario, one of them would agree with me.
"You heard what I said. You're a pathetic athlete. You think that you can treat people like that just because you're somewhat successful?"
Jungkook scoffed, a step away from me, thinking that giving me a heavy glare was going to make him win. "Do you even know how successful I am? You're talking to an Olympic gold medalist, and-"
"Like I give a fuck about it," I cut him off, making his eyes widen. If my lack of respect for him wasn't obvious enough, I smiled. "A gold medal doesn't make you any less pathetic as a human."
The longer we glared at each other, the stronger the tension was, until I wondered if I punching him wouldn't make me feel bettee. It would probably tickle him, but I would have a satisfaction of punching a "professional boxer".
He didn't say anything, clenching his jaw, so I went on. "Being rich and famous doesn't make you any better than anyone in this college. In this world, even. If you think you can treat people like you're some god, just because they messed up in some insignificant exercise during a college sports class, then maybe come back to Earth, huh?"
"Look who's talking without knowing someone."
"What? Because your money and fame didn't make you act like an asshole for no reason? What? It's a childhood trauma now? Whatever it is, you have no rights to treat people like shit."
"You can keep your mouth shut sometimes. Not everyone has to be like you and force kindness onto everyone to make people like you."
"At least I'm not-"
A shriek of the teacher's whistle cut me off. I was buzzing.
"You're free, kids!" she exclaimed after counting us to make sure no one ran away. No one would, too invested in our fight.
Jungkook was the first one to leave, stomping like I hit some sore spot, and slammed the glass door. What a surprise he didn't break it. The teacher sighed, shaking her head, and left without giving a comment. Everyone stared at me, and, because Jungkook was the only one I was able to treat like this, I gave them a sweet smile.
"Sorry, guys," I said, scratching my neck. As he wasn't there anymore, I was hyper-aware that they all saw and heard everything, fire crawled under my skin. With one more smile, I left the sports hall, looking at my feet as I passed through the crowd.
~~~
Going back to my flat on a day like that was always something to be grateful for. On any day, really. My set of pencils and my sketchbook waiting for me to put the frustration on paper, instead of punching it out on Jeon Jungkook. My body ached. When I fell on top of my bed, I thought I'd never get up again. It was so tempting to stay there for the next twenty hours, but I would most likely end up overthinking every part of my life. I didn't need that kind of stress added to everything else.
Drawing and sketching was the only thing I found enjoyable in my life, and I tried to sneak it in whenever I could. It also worked wonders when I was angry. I could let go of my heaviest feelings and create masterpieces at the same time. There was a good side to the existence of Jeon Jungkook in my life, after all. But I would never tell him that.
As soon as I got my equipment, ready to draw a new cartoon, my phone buzzed.
"Hello?"
"Eunbi! My beloved sister!"
"Where are you going and how many kids am I supposed to babysit?" I laughed. A learned laugh, so that she wouldn't think I was rolling my eyes on the other side of the line. My sister only called for one reason. And only called me 'her beloved sister' for one reason. She must have confused 'baby sister' for 'babysitter' one day, and it stayed like that, possibly forever.
"Just for a few hours, I promise. All of them."
It should have been simple to say 'no'. I was tired, I wanted to sketch. I could have said no. I had a right to. There were other babysitters out there, probably better at this shit job than me.
I moved the phone away so that Soonmi wouldn't hear me sigh. "Yeah, sure. I'll be there in fifteen."
"Thank you so much, Eunbi."
Drawing had to wait, I had to wait. For myself. Again. But I was used to it. I was used to giving my time and effort to everyone else, before I somehow found a bit of it to give to myself. I always wanted to make sure everyone had everything they needed, everyone felt alright, before I could think about myself.