1232 words//
8. He is his mother's boy.
He calls her first — he always does.
"Hey, mama."
"Hey, baby. God, it's so good to hear from you," she greets back, and her relief can be heard through the phone. "How's my young doctor doing?"
"I'm fine," he says. "How's dad and Minah? Everything's okay?"
"Well... your father's working on a new case. He says it's big," she tells him. "He's a little stressed out. You know how he gets."
Namjoon purses his lips. He does know. "And Minah?"
"You know what she's like," she sighs. "She's good. She's not like you, though."
"Mama."
"What?" She huffs. "She's difficult, so hard to deal with. I'm only saying this because I love her. Will you talk to her, Joonah?"
"She doesn't want to go to law school," he says. "She wants to become an author. Let her."
"I am letting her become whatever she wants," his mother snaps, her tone threatening and her voice two notes higher. He flinches and he's just glad she can't see him, because he knows that would only make her angrier. "I'm just guiding her. Like I did with you. Like any sane parent does. The only difference here is that she's stubborn and refuses to see what's best for her."
"Okay."
"You'll talk to her, won't you?" She asks again. "She listens to you."
"Sure."
"So, tell me," she says after a while, her voice lighter. "How did your week go?"
"It was fine. Our lab went up in flames, but I had nothing to do with that. I also passed all my quizzes," he says casually, but he's actually proud of himself, and he grins when she praises him. His pride dies down when she reminds him that passing isn't the goal, though, and good grades are. "Guess what happened though."
"Yeah?"
"I got trapped in a janitor's closet with Kim Taehyung," Namjoon says. "Remember—"
"Kim Taehyung? I talked to his parents recently," she says. "God. What's he doing in Seoul?"
"He moved here this semester," Namjoon tells her. "Didn't his parents tell you that?"
"It was last year."
"Oh. That's not recent, mama."
He can hear her shake her head. "Is he finally studying medicine? His parents were really torn up about him going with art instead."
"He's not."
"Ah, well," she says nonchalantly. "It's a shame, but I think he'll be fine. He's really good and he has what it takes to be successful and make a livin—"
"I think Minah does, too."
"Joonah, let's be real for a moment here—"
"I'm being real," he says. "She's got what it takes. And so do I."
"He's an artist who paints and sculpts," she hisses. "You make — you made rap songs."
"You know what? Let's not even go there," Namjoon argues. "Let's just not—"
"At least you're not into satanic music," she adds.
"—but know that I do have what it takes to be successful and to make a living off of this, not that these are the only things that matter in life."
"Whatever, Namjoon."
"It's not whatever."
"Well, it's too late, isn't it?" She says back coolly. "You're almost twenty. You're about to finish your second year. That's almost halfway through."
"Right," Namjoon answers. And because she's right, he says, "I have to go study. Bye."
He hangs up without waiting for a reply and throws his phone on the carpet with a sigh, and it's only then that he realises he's been holding his breath for god knows how long. Maybe it's from the moment he brought up Minah being good enough — him being good enough, or maybe it's from the moment Kim Taehyung's name left his lips.
Either way, he can finally breathe now.
(He still feels like he's suffocating, though. He is his mama's boy, always has been, and it only stopped being okay when he realised he wanted to be his own man instead of her boy. But that's not how it works, see, he's not difficult like Minah, and he's definitely not whatever the fuck Kim Taehyung is.
Crazy, he thinks. Or brave.)
—
He posts the song on Soundcloud. Seoul. The first person he sends the link to is his mother, but his phone vibrates with a new call before he can share the link with anyone else.
"Hey," Taehyung says. "Seoul."
"Do I have to release a song every time I want your attention?" Namjoon asks before he can help himself, and he instantly wishes he could take back these words. Or, like, evaporate on the spot.
"Um."
"I mean... you've been avoiding me ever since the closet thing," Namjoon points out.
Taehyung chuckles. "You mean, since you tried to avoid me first? And it backlashed really fucking horribly on both of us?"
"Precisely."
"I didn't mean to avoid you," Taehyung says. Namjoon hums. "Did you try to find me?"
"Kinda," Namjoon says after a moment.
"Why?"
"Why 'kinda' as in partially tried or why as in why did I want—"
"Both," Taehyung cuts him off.
Namjoon bites his lip. "I just wanted to ask if you're okay, and to send you the song so you could be the first one to listen to it — its final version, at least."
"And... 'kinda' tried as in..?" Taehyung trails off.
Namjoon almost shrugs before catching himself. "Because I didn't really care."
"Oh?"
"Why should I?" Namjoon asks. "Do you even consider me a friend?"
"Do you?"
"I don't know," Namjoon admits. "I don't care, really."
"You're a weird one, Kim Namjoon," Taehyung says amusedly. "You say you don't care about me but, at the same time, you wanted me to be the first one to listen to your song. Which, I just did."
"Your art is the cover," Namjoon reminds him. "And I never said that I don't care about you."
"So, you care about me?"
Namjoon clenches his jaw. "Fuck, no. Fuck off."
"Chill, hyung."
"I'm not your hyung," Namjoon huffs. "So, you listened to Seoul? What do you think?"
"I thought you don't care about me," Taehyung says. "Why do you care about what I think?"
"I don't," Namjoon argues, closing his eyes. "Are you always this frustrating?"
"Of course not!" Taehyung replies with a sweet chuckle. "I'm usually worse."
Namjoon rolls his eyes, unsure of why he still hasn't ended the call, but then Taehyung says quietly, "It was good. Beautiful."
"You liked it?"
"Yeah, um," and Namjoon's listening intensely now to every crack and muffled sound coming from the speakers of his phone as he clutches it as tightly as he can. "I loved it, actually."
"I'm glad you did," Namjoon says honestly.
"It hit close to home," Taehyung tells him. "It's — it's our home. You captured it perfectly."
"Thank you," Namjoon whispers.
"Can I — can I try to paint it?" Taehyung asks. "I've always wanted to paint a city and I have lots of photos so, maybe paint one of them? But, like, use your song as a palette instead of the actual colours?"
"You don't have to ask," Namjoon says. "But, sure, yeah. Paint any song you want. And show me, if you can."
"Keep making songs, then," Taehyung says softly. "If it's cool."
Namjoon bites a smile back. "I will."
"Good," Taehyung says, then there's some rustling coming from the speakers. "Um, I wanna listen to Seoul again."
"Alright."
Pause, then, "Goodnight, hyung."
"Goodnight, Tae."
—
stream d-2!! also, thanks for the 40 reads! vote and comment, maybe? :3