This business card was supposed to stay in the depths of my garage, but here I am, holding it between my fingers, as I knock on Park Jimin's door. Come at three thirty, he said when I called him. It's three twenty eight. I bounce up and down. I can still benefit from the closed door and make a run for it. But no matter what my head says, my body doesn't allow me to move until the door swings open.
"Kim Taehyung. Nice to see you. What brings you here?" he asks. I don't think we are making it further than the door of a twentieth floor apartment.
"I came to tell you something," I say.
My mind is made up. I don't know why it's so hard to get it out of myself. Like my brain is disconnected from my body. Like my body doesn't find my decisions beneficial. But they are, and I am doing it.
"Go ahead." He nods, hand on the doorframe.
I ruffle my hair, buying time. "I just... no one sent me here. And I am not trying to influence your decisions, but... there is someone who deserves to be in your team more than anyone else." He looks me up and down, and bops his head in question. "Jeon Jungkook."
For what he has done for me so far, this is still not enough to pay him back. I don't need the spot that much. Jungkook always liked both racing and winning. I just wanted to be like him. As I don't want it anymore, it's becoming clearer that I really don't have to be winning, don't have to be a number one.
Even if it's something as "prestigious" (if I can use this word for a massive illegal street racing event that police never stops because of the money the organisators give them to act like nothing is happening) as the Japan Race, I can let it go.
I wanted to find something more useful for myself anyways. I will have a chance now, once the Japan Race is out of the way.
Jimin's gazes moves around my face, my lungs stay still. I am not even trying to read his mind.
"Follow me," he says. With no clue, I do.
He leads the way to the underground garage, and then across the platform to a familiar black BMW. I can't recall where I know this car from, but I work on a few cars daily, so it must be similar to one of the clients'. Jimin stops in front of me, lifting the keys to my face. "You drive. Come on."
Our conversation isn't over yet, so I take the wheel, and drive where Jimin leads us.
Outside of the garage, as we stroll through the city, he asks, "You're saying Jeon Jungkook is the best driver out of all of you?"
"Yeah."
"Interesting." He chuckles, pulling his foot onto the seat. "Everyone is trying to prove themselves, yet you're promoting your friend."
"He didn't ask me."
"I didn't say it." He smiles, and points to turn to the left. "I'm just saying it's interesting. I'm curious. Why wouldn't you try to win?"
When his eyes are on me, it gets too difficult to think. The way they drill into me, like he's trying to get into my mind, makes me squirm around in the seat. "I know I'm good," I say. "Maybe even as good as him, but... he deserves it more than me."
"You think so?" Jimin clicks his tongue. "From what I've watched so far, you were shining the brightest." My ego swells, and for a moment I forget about Jungkook. "It's obvious you love driving."
"I do."
We pass by a mall, and he shows me to change the route, leading us into the back streets. "Jeon Jungkook is good. But there is something about him. Something I don't like."
I spare him a glance, quickly back to checking the road. "But he's the best driver. Isn't that what you're looking for?"
"Well, I'd say you're the best, Taehyung. Jungkook is alright. But not good enough for the Japan Race."
I can't say it doesn't feel good to have someone like him call me 'the best', but I can't let him talk shit about Jungkook at the same time, either. I want to grin, and admit that fuck yeah, I am the best of the best. But I can't. Not when he puts Jungkook down. Jungkook who, if the two of us took part in the Japan Race, would come in first.
He does better under a lot of pressure. No matter how nerve wrecking the situation, he will keep his cool until he is sure he can lose it without losing a race.
He was the one to jump down three meters because someone was chasing us. I wouldn't do it.
"Park here," he says, pulling me out of the conflict in my head. We stop next to a convenience store, behind a motorcycle. "I'll be back in a few minutes. Wait for me."
So I'm his chauffer today. I see.
I've driven a BMW once in my life before, when someone left it for a check-up. Out of curiosity, I took it for a ride. Not the best for racing, good for showing off. This one has cool interior, but so does the Mercedes Yeeun got, so it must be his preference to put a lot of money into the inside.
I play around with the cup holders, the radio, the purple neon lights. I'm pretty sure this line around the gear shift is made of pure gold. Park Jimin and everything he owns oozes a lot of money.
He has a certain charm you get hooked on for longer, but only until you talk to him. If I was that type of guy, I could consider a one night stand. Or making him my sugar daddy, for more benefit. But I'm not, so I can do as much as to admit his handsome, but with personality too narcissistic for me.
He comes back seven minutes later, throws something in the trunk, and sits back at the passenger's seat. "Sorry, had to pick something up from a friend," he says, taping away on his phone. "Drive. And drive fast. I wanna see what you can do."
"Drive where?"
He slips the phone into the phone holder stuck to the middle of the windshield. "In 500 meters, turn left."
Jimin nods once, smiling. With a sigh, I put the first gear in and speed away, wherever the map leads me.
--
In the evening, I meet with Jungkook, Yeeun and Minho at the edge of the city. Behind the abandoned warehouses, there is a straight, wide, bumpy road. An old, broken street lamp sticks out of the road at the end of the road, marking the turning point, perfect for a race for two.
I've been teaching Minho for a while, and I've figured putting him in a one on one race before he goes for something bigger is a sensible step. At the same time, Jungkook said we should start racing each other for fun more. Two birds with one stone.
"The coolest people come in last," I say with my arrival, sensing how Jungkook is about to say something about it. The way he laughs confirms it.
"Who told you such bullshit?" He shakes my hand.
Yeeun gives me a high five. And when I get to greet Minho, Jungkook and Yeeun turn away from us. "Take your time," Jungkook says.
I let out a sigh, throwing my head back in defeat. Should have known he will never stop teasing me, just change the undertone of it and the intention.
"Hey," I say, and at this point our greeting is nothing more than a small, one arm hug. Enough for now to make me shiver. In a good or bad way? I'm not sure. "You can fucking turn around," I say, laughing through it.
"Where have you been earlier that you couldn't come before?" Minho asks.
I huff a chuckle. "I was chauffeuring Park Jimin."
"Chauffeuring?" Yeeun raises her eyebrows, so does everyone else.
"Met him outside a grocery store," I say. I have to tweak the truth a bit. I'm not going to tell Jungkook why I met Jimin. It would be embarrassing. "He asked me to drive him to his friend or something. Close to that grocery store everyone was always in when we were in high school."
"There was a robbery in this area earlier," Yeeun says. "Did you see anything?"
"Really? No, there wasn't anything." We must have left beforehand.
"Good you were there earlier. You could have been in danger," Jungkook says.
"Worried?" I tease, smirking.
"Literally shitting my pants." Jungkook grins. It's a joke, but it doesn't sound like one entirely.
We don't speak more of that. Me and Jungkook play rock-paper-scissors to decide on who's going to race who. I'm in a team with Minho, and if I win this game, I race Jungkook. If I lose, I race Yeeun.
It's a quick game. With the first round, Jungkook gives a rock to my scissors.
"Taehyung!" Minho cries out, and Jungkook bursts out laughing.
"Don't worry, man." He pats Minho's shoulder. "At least your teams' loss won't be entirely on your shoulders."
"Are you trying to say I'm not going to win with your girlfriend?" I push his shoulder, but only playfully, and now he knows about it.
"I'm not trying, I'm saying it." He smirks, wiggles his eyebrows.
I point at him. "Watch it, Jeon."
We already decided on the bet, four thousand dollars for the winning team, everyone chipped in equally. With one more game, this time me and Yeeun, we decide that Jungkook and Minho will race first.
Before Jungkook can go to his car, I pull him back. "Don't use nitro."
"I will have mercy on him, don't worry." He's not going to have mercy on him, but that's not what's on my mind.
"I was thinking about Yeeun seeing you."
"Oh. Oh!" He laughs. "That's right. You're right."
Jungkook wins. Everyone expected it. And I will have to fix Minho's car once again, after an ugly meeting with the broken lamp post.
And when I race with Yeeun, I really do my best, but as we turn in the same time, she manages a more narrow curve, speeds up, and finishes the race before me.
Jungkook and Yeeun grin as they collect the money, teasing the shit out of (only) me.
"It was nice winning with you. Let's do it again, soon," Jungkook says, shaking our hands. "We will get going now."
When they leave, and it's just the two of us, I fall silent. I feel more confident with Minho when Jungkook is around. When he is around, it's easier to remember what he told me that day in the garage and a few more times. When he's around, I know how to let go of what my family told me about it and what I'm afraid of.
After the first time I was able to call Jungkook and, kind of, ask him to meet up, now I find myself meeting him after every time I see Minho. Whether it's a race training or Minho asking me if I want to 'grab a coffee or something'. Even if Jungkook doesn't have anything to say about it, and I don't expect him to ever say anything, it's really nice to just spit it all out.
He does it, too. When something bothers him, especially about Yeeun. He says it's easier to talk to her once he says it all out loud to me, someone not directly involved.
"Good job," I say. "Don't worry about a loss."
"Yeah, I'm fine. I expected it." He chuckles. "Do you wanna get some food?" he asks, and once again everything in my body stills.
There's constantly a fight in my head, between what my family told me and what Jungkook told me. It gets so unbearably loud whenever he asks something like this, or does something to make my skin burn.
Is it really okay to be doing it with him?
It's okay, it's not a big deal, as long as you like it.
I want to like it. For once I want to allow myself to enjoy something, without freaking out about a single thing.
"Yeah, we can go," I say, because underneath the fear my family grew inside of me, this is what I want. I think it is. At least I can try. If he is already showing some sort of interest in me, why wouldn't I just try?
"Taehyung?"
I pause in front of my car. "Hm?"
"The same place as always?" I nod, and he smiles. "Cool. And let's make it a date."
He slips into his car, drives away, and I am still trying to remember how respiration works. When I do, I'm dizzy.
--
Here I am again, in my car, phone in my hand, thinking if I should call Jungkook. For some reason, I can't find it in myself to fully enjoy it. To just let go and be with Minho, and then relish in the joyful feeling, without spilling my guts.
It shouldn't be messy like that. I think it shouldn't be. At least not at the beginning. Or maybe I don't like how messy it is.
Sometimes I feel like I call Jungkook to make up for the time I spent with Minho. It's not even about what my family had told me. It's like I'm not enjoying it as much as I'm trying to. And that makes me feel stupid, because what if I'm giving the poor guy unnecessary hints and then I will just dip, after realizing this is not what I actually want?
Before I can call, Jungkook beats me to it.
"Huh?" I put the phone of speaker.
"Are you still with the best racer in the world?"
A laugh jumps out of me no matter how much I want to hold it back. I am well aware that Jungkook isn't really keen on Minho, and I can't deny that there is a lot of practice, maybe even years of it, Seokjin's brother needs to be ready to race. I shouldn't, but I can't help laughing whenever he throws remarks like this around.
"No, I'm by myself. I was going to call you," I say.
"Perfect! Listen, I thought of something cool. Like, the coolest thing we can do and I don't know why I haven't thought of this before."
"What are you talking about?" I ask. He sounds too excited for something normal.
"Let's play football. One on one."
Every possible place we could play football at is closed at eight p.m., but I'm already starting the car. "High school pitch? We can easily climb the fence."
"I'm already on my way."
"So am I."
We played football, approximately, always. Starting in elementary school, through middle and high, we were always on the pitch. Sometimes in the same team, sometimes in the opposite. We never talked, sometimes fought. Though something I remember really well from being in the same team as Jungkook is our signature trick. We could have hated each other, but our signature trick always killed everyone and scored the most goals.
Jungkook was one of the best amateur players. And loved by everyone.
I was pretty good, too, but I was mean to the everyone's favorite, so no one ever chose me to be in their team.
Of course my whole life I blamed it on Jungkook. Of course it wasn't his fault. It was all in my hands to be a little bit more friendly to everyone around. Regardless, I still loved playing.
And I've always wondered how it would be like to play with Jungkook if we weren't the way we used to be.
We arrive at our old high school's parking lot at the same time, from two sides. Jungkook carries an old, torn all over yet perfectly round football. We jump the fence like we've been doing this forever, laughing when Jungkook almost falls face down.
The only light over the pitch is a street lamp next to it.
"I have a crucial question," he says, rolling his sleeves to his elbows, foot on the ball. "Do you remember how we played?"
I tie my sneakers tighter. "If you're talking about that zigzag trick, yes. I remember."
"That shit was professional level." He sighs, like it really was. "How about we just kick and run around? And then we can take turns to be the goalkeeper."
"Anything that involves playing football," I say, stretching my back. "Oh, my spine is a fucking disaster from work."
"Work on your core, man. How are you gonna impress your future man? Are you the one who carries or carried around?"
"Dude, shut the fuck up." I laugh, and he may be the only person around whom I'm not getting all tense because of these words. "That depends."
"Depends? On?"
"I can do both." I can't believe I'm having this conversation with someone.
"Damn. What a man."
"You look like the type to have your girlfriend dominate you," I say.
"I can do both." He crosses his arms on his chest, and tries to act tough, but breaks with a laugh.
"You can, but you don't. That's what I'm getting from it," I say. "But I don't wanna know the details of your sexual life, so please, spare me."
If it was anyone else talking to me about it, I'd be panicked and silent.
"Then stretch that broken spine and let's play." He tries to do one of those cool tricks we knew back in school, but starts laughing when his leg doesn't even reach the ball he kicks in the air. "Last time I played in high school."
"Me too, don't worry." Something in my back cracks. "Maybe it won't be that bad."
It is, actually, that bad. At least at the beginning. We are both stiff and do whatever we can to kick the ball. It takes us half an hour of more laughing than playing to get a grip on the game. It's the first time in history we are playing football and not fighting. Laughing. We are having fun, and I try not to think of all those times we couldn't do it before.
It's effortless for me now to just enjoy it. Like I would enjoy time with a friend. The amount of things we have in common always makes me realize how I could have had a friend my whole life, yet I let my 'family' fuck it up. I could have had a normal life, like a normal kid.
I tend to think how it would be like if Jungkook was never involved in this mess. What if my family was the way it was, but he was a friend of mine? What if I had a friend in the middle of this whole thing?
When I spend time with him, I don't wonder, think, doubt, guess. I don't panic. I know me and Minho, and me and Jungkook are two different worlds, but with one everything seems easier than with the other. If it was Minho playing with me now, I'd be up in my head, wondering if I am good enough, if I look good, if I am being kind enough.
Now I just play. I just say things. I just joke around. I just am. And it doesn't seem like he minds any of it. Because he is still here, still playing. Jungkook wouldn't fuck around if he didn't want to be here. He'd either tell me what he thinks or leave. He never fucked around with telling me what he thinks, and after so many years, I can finally be grateful for it.
When we get a grip on the game, it's my turn to be the goalkeeper. With a lot of grunts, laughs and painful splits, I manage to catch two out of fifteen.
At some point, when we switch places, we find ourselves talking in between the kicks.
"He called it a date," I say, settling the ball down.
"And you went with it?"
"I find it hard to... speak up." I chuckle, scratching my back. "It's like... he makes the decisions and I just roll with it. It's weird. I feel weird around him."
"Maybe he's just not the right one," he says. "I'm not saying this, 'cause I'm not the biggest fan. If you like him, then it's not my place to tell you not to do it. But, you know... maybe it's the feeling that you want, not him."
I take a few steps back, getting ready to kick. "So... like... you think I could be forcing myself to spend time with him and enjoy it, because I want to have someone like that, but it doesn't have to be him?"
"It could be the possibility, but I'm not saying this is exactly that," he says, rubbing his hands together. "You just... every time I see you after you see him, you look stressed and tired. Like... a person you go on dates with shouldn't make you feel tired. Shouldn't make you feel like you're worse than him. Shouldn't make you feel... like it's difficult."
"You struggled with Yeeun, too. Didn't you?"
"Yeah, but it's a whole different thing." He cracks his knuckles. "Yeeun was scared of us being together, so she pulled back. Love is not always sunshine, but even if there is something difficult, you know you're not alone in it. But... falling in love with her... it wasn't difficult at all. I enjoyed it."
I show him to get ready and we take a break for a kick that ends up as a point for me. Jungkook rolls the ball towards me again.
"How did you realize you're in love with her?" I ask, resettling the ball for a new kick.
Jungkook laughs, adjusting the net in the goal. "After my first race," he says. "I came in last and went to her to vent, but the moment I walked in, she bumped into a wall and spilled the entire coffee on the floor. I had this thought then, how the hell did I fall in love with her?"
He continues. "Falling for someone, especially if it's two sided, is lighter. You could be nervous and all, but in a good way. You know, giggling and wondering what shirt to wear to get them to smile at you kinda nervous." I've never felt like that. Jungkook puts a finger up. "Also, just because I say something, doesn't mean I'm one hundred percent right, remember. I'm just telling you what I believe. Take what resonates."
There are things he says that just stick with me. I haven't paid much attention to why some stay and some don't, but as he says it now, I think they might be sticking for a reason.
I heave a sigh, rolling the ball under my foot. "I think all I felt for him at the beginning was physical attraction and now... now I'm just... trying to enjoy it. Like... I don't even have that much in common with him. And he's... God, you know damn well what kind of racer he is." Jungkook laughs. Love doesn't choose, but I hope every day that when I do fall in love, it will be with someone who races. Or at least likes driving fast and I will be able to race them around. "I envy what you and Yeeun have sometimes."
"No one says you can't have it one day. Maybe not with Minho. But some top tier racer is out there for you. That's for sure."
I kick the ball again, but this time he catches it, whining when his leg stretches further than his flexibility allows him to do so comfortably.
"I still have to teach him how to race." I sigh. Jungkook grabs the ball and shows me to switch spots.
"Can I say it now? He's a lost cause, man. My grandma drives faster." He huffs, setting the ball in the right spot.
"Are you just saying it or does she really drive faster?" I chuckle, gripping the upper bar of the goal and hanging on it like a monkey.
Jungkook stills, eyes bigger than usually. "Dude... do you know my grandma?"
"How would I know your grandma?" I ask, doing a few pull ups for fun. I'm not the strongest man out there, to be honest, so I stop at three.
"You don't know my mom's mom?" he asks.
"Again. How would I?"
"You don't know my uncle's mom?! Do you know why my uncle raced in the first place? Because his mom showed him how to." He leaves the ball as it is, walking closer to me, and I jump to the fake grass. "Oh my God, you need to meet my grandma."
"She's still racing?" I ask. The more I learn about his family, the more obvious he seems.
"Not in races like us, but you have to see how she's driving around the city."
"Then introduce me to your grandma one day."
He jumps suddenly, startling me, and speaks with his eyes wide. "Now, come on. Let's do it now."
"What?!"
He grabs the ball with one arm, and my wrist with the other. "Come on, it's more fun than playing. She'll take us on a ride."
I almost tumble onto my face, trying to keep up with his pace. "Are you kidding me right now?"
"No way. Come on. Follow me."
"You're actually crazy."
"I know, Yeeun and her dad keep on telling me that," he says, drops the ball on the other side of the fence, and climbs over it.
So I drive behind him, 170 kilometers per hour, and half an hour later, we are in a rural area, just outside of the city. Jungkook parks along a fence, in front of a stand-alone house. A wall lamp on, two thick bushes in front of it. I think we are really visiting his grandma. Jungkook says she is and isn't like the typical grandma. I can guess, considering she used to race. He also tells me to relax, eat whatever she gives me and be myself, and the next thing I know, he is knocking on the door.
I can't believe we are doing it. It's nine in the evening. We are meeting his grandmother. I don't even know anything about his parents, and here we are, in front of his grandparents' house.
The door swings open and the woman behind it lights up immediately. She's tall, only a head shorter than us. Thin, wrinkled face, short blonde dyed hair and eyes like Jungkook.
"Jungkookie! My favorite grandson, what are you doing here?" She surges in, grabs his face and kisses his cheeks three times each. I guess I know why he's the favorite grandson. Does he have siblings? Cousins? I've never heard much about his family.
"Oh, grandma, you're squishing me." He chokes out, smiling, and I can't help chuckling. That makes her look back at me.
"You brought a friend! Hi, hello!" She steps towards me and does exactly the same.
"This is Taehyung, grandma. He's racing, too."
"Oh, in that case, you're welcome here any day." She smiles at me and shakes my hand.
"Hi, nice to meet you," I say, failing to hold back a smile. She reminds me more of Yeeun than Jungkook. Full of energy, wild.
We walk in. The house is a cluster of everything, but in a comforting sense. Everything from furniture, through wallpaper, to the carpets and decorations looks bought, or thrifted, in a different place, yet all seems to be selected with pure joy. Everything has its place here.
Jungkook's grandma gives us a massive piece of chocolate cake each, and Jungkook chuckles when she turns away, showing me to eat. I do. It's the best chocolate cake I've ever tried. If it's gonna make her happy, I might even ask for seconds.
I don't have to. She puts another piece on my plate the second I am done with the first one.
"Grandma," Jungkook says, and takes a sip of the tea she made for us. His mug has Mickey Mouse on it, mine – Minnie. "Taehyung doesn't believe you were a racer."
"That's not true," I say, frowning as he laughs. "I absolutely believe it. I just didn't expect it."
"My dear, I was the best in the city." She smiles wide, leaning against the counter with a Goofy mug in her hand. "My whole life I drove an upgraded 1963 Mercedes 190SL."
I gasp around a spoonful of cake. "I'd marry that car if it was legal."
"Do you want to see it?" she asks, eyes bigger, like Jungkook's when he gets excited.
"Oh, God, you still have it?" I'm almost up on my feet when she says it.
I don't even know any of my grandmothers and she is about to show me my dream car in real life, after treating me better than any member of my family ever could.
"I haven't used it in years, but it's still in the garage," she says.
"Let me just finish this. Man, why haven't you brought me here twenty years ago?" I kick Jungkook's shin under the table.
He chuckles. "You know why, Kim." The usage of my last name is a playful reference to our past.
"You're welcomed here any time, my dear," she tells me, smiling. "Jungkook doesn't come around that often anyways. You can inspire him."
"Grandma, you know how it is," he says, pouting. I've never seen him do this face. "I'm either at work, racing or with Yeeun. And now there is this Japan Race thing going on."
She pinches his cheek. "You can find time for grandma. I'm more important that the Japan Race."
Now that I think about it, this is the only member of Jungkook's family I've ever seen. I have never seen his parents. We met when we were six, and since then the only adult around him has ever been Yeeun's father. I'm curious why, but I don't know how to approach the conversation. The topic of my parents was heavy, but pretty obvious. I have no clue if talking about his wouldn't be a sensitive topic.
As soon as the cake is finished, I avoid another massive piece I wouldn't stomach anyways, as Jungkook's grandma takes us to the garage. He's probably seen this car a thousand times. It's me that gasps and melts, as I look under the hood, pointing out how incredible the car would be if I worked on it now. It's already an upgraded version, and I could make it a physical dream to drive.
Jungkook's grandma sends him a questioning look.
He laughs. "A mechanic."
Jungkook leans against the wall listening, as either I go on about the car or his grandmother tells me stories of her races. The more we talk, the more passionate she sounds, and I could sit here for the rest of the night, listening.
"Grandma." Jungkook smiles at her, as sweet as never before. "Will you drive us around the neighborhood?"
"Do you have a well working car?" she asks him.
"Maserati."
"Give me the keys, son."
This is the last thing I have expected I would be doing tonight. Or ever. In the backseat of Jungkook's Maserati. His grandmother, ex-racer, in the driver's seat, pressing the accelerator, telling us to 'buckle up'.
"The last time we did it, Jungkookie was sixteen," she says, smiling through the rare view mirror. "And Yeeun was with us, wasn't she?"
"Yeah, she loved it," he says, laughing. "You know that thing with the steering wheel, grandma?"
"What thing with the steering wheel?" I ask. Something about the situation, and Jungkook already laughing, and his grandma having the widest smile on her face, makes me speak through a chuckle.
"Oh, you will see, my dear," she says, putting the first gear in. The neighborhood is practically deserted at this hour. "Time to swing."
And we do swing. We swing a hell lot. It's either me falling on Jungkook or Jungkook on me as we laugh with every curve and turn she makes. Her control over the car is insane. Even if we swing like we're sitting on a branch during a hurricane, I can feel how every jerk of the steering wheel is intentional.
She's driving 120 kilometers per hour, foot on the brake in the last second before the curve, the wheels screeching against the asphalt every time she turns. This is a whole new level of racing.
After three, or four, I stopped counting, circles around the neighborhood, she parks perfectly in front of her house and swings her hair back. "That's how we raced back in my day," she says, looking at me with a smile.
My eyes are wide open. "That was..." I gulp. "That was insane and I might start visiting more often, even without Jungkook."
"And you're always welcomed here, sweetheart. More cake for you if Jungkook doesn't want to visit."
As we settle back at the table, the floor further in the house creaks, and Jungkook's grandfather walks into the kitchen. Now this is who Jungkook takes after.
"Oh." He smiles at him, then at me, and then back at Jungkook. "And where is your wife?"
Jungkook groans, standing up to greet him with a hug. "I swear to God, everyone loves her more than they love me."
He shakes my hand, too, as I tell him my name. "Hi, nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you, too!" he says, eyes disappearing as his lips curve more. "Jungkookie never brings anyone other than his wife here."
It really is clear everyone loves Yeeun the most, because as soon as Jungkook's grandfather sits with us, she is the main topic of the conversation. Jungkook's grandparents keep on reminiscing on the early days when Jungkook and Yeeun used to be friends.
They referred to her as 'Jungkook's wife' since they were seventeen. Jungkook's grandmother taught Yeeun how to sew. She says she taught Yeeun a lot of things a mother should. I make out of it that Yeeun grew up with only a dad. I knew about her family as much as I know about Jungkook's.
My personal favorite is a story of Jungkook asking Yeeun to ask his grandma for more cookies, because 'she would get everything, and I would get scolded'.
It takes me a moment to loosen up, not used to the domestic atmosphere in a house full of people, but soon even I join in. Surprisingly, I have a lot of memories of Jungkook and Yeeun together, and even more stories to share. When I think back, they were always together. Now I realize how endearing it actually is, instead of bitter, like I saw it my whole life.
I don't like to be dramatic, but I think it's the first time in my life I felt good in such a domestic environment. With a family. Not exactly mine, but it's refreshing to see someone blood-related love one another. It's hopeful.
"That was cool, wasn't it?" he says, as we leave their house at one a.m. It was one of the best days in my life, but he doesn't have to know that much. "I told you she can do it better than Minho."
"Definitely. But I'm starting to believe everyone can do it better than Minho." I huff a chuckle, before I realize I'm making fun of him, and it comes to me easier than being with Minho.
No one says anything about it.
"I would honestly play a bit more football, but I promised Yeeun I'd be back by now," Jungkook says.
"It's fine, we can play football any day." It's almost weird how naturally a high-five comes to us and we both freeze for a moment, laughing right after. "And thanks for... listening. And all."
"I said I would, so here I am."
It's funny how he's always been. Every day, through every stage of my life. Maybe not willing to listen or make peace before, but he never left, no matter how many times he could. Or should. Or when normal people would.
I doubt he's ever thought about it this way, but it's almost like he never gave up on me, because he knew a day like this would come. When I would no longer be an enemy to him, and he wouldn't be one to me.