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#in the other hand Jazz has become addicted to coffee while in college
floq · 4 months
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they are both addicted to caffeine, but in different ways
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kpopfanfictrash · 3 years
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Raise the Barre (Ch. 8)
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Author: kpopfanfictrash
Pairing: Jimin / Reader
Rating: 18+ (Eventual Smut)
Genre: Enemies to Lovers / Dance Academy!AU
Warnings: underage drinking, angst, hoseok’s bare abs
Word Count: 10,705
Summary: You and Park Jimin have been rivals for as long as you’ve known one another; ever since he tripped you in the front row of your first dance convention. When you graduate from high school and enter Russet Ballet Academy, you tell yourself you’re leaving all past quarrels behind. The main problem with this though, is that your past seems determined not to leave you alone.
Worse still, the obstacles you face while out in the real world might prove more challenging than anything your enemy has to offer.  
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“Okay, even you have to admit this is too soon.” Finn stared, appalled at the chalkboard. “It’s not even Halloween!”
Laughing a little, you looped your arm around his to drag him towards the back. Plopping down in a chair, you placed your order number in the center of the table. Seating himself across the table from you, Finn began to undo his coat.
“Come on.” He grinned, brown hair flopping when he leaned forward. “Admit it – this is too early for holiday drinks.”
“Okay, maybe it’s a little early,” you acquiesced. “But Halloween is tomorrow! They probably just put up the holiday drinks so they don’t have to do it on Sunday.”
“Laziness!” he cried, jabbing a finger in the air.
Shaking your head, you smiled when Namjoon, the barista, placed a pumpkin soy latte before you.
“Thanks!” you said, pulling this towards you.
“No problem,” he said, flashing his dimples before he turned to leave.
Taking a long, slow sip of your drink, you groaned. “Oh my god. This is it. This is heaven.”
Finn laughed. “Is that seriously your first pumpkin drink of the season?” Sadly, he shook his head. “I remember our senior year, you dragged me out of bed at 7:00 AM on a Saturday just to get the first pumpkin drink of the year.”
“I know,” you sighed. “But I’ve needed the extra caffeine jolt each morning. Sweet drinks just don’t cut it anymore.”
“Ah, the first step in addiction.” Finn nodded sagely.
Smiling, you settled back in your seat as he took the first sip of his black coffee. It had been two weeks since your fight at the club and since then, Finn had been on his best behavior. For about a week, things between you had been awkward but slowly, your relationship was returning to normal.
Seated in the corner of your favorite coffee shop, you drank from your cup and glanced around the room. This was what you’d pictured when you imagined you and Finn living in the city together. Coffee dates, going on new adventures and continuing your relationship where it had left off.
Of course, this morning was only possible because Miss Britt’s ballet class had been cancelled. A contemporary master class had been scheduled for the afternoon, but your day before then was free – something you’d immediately taken advantage of by calling Finn. It was becoming easier to fit each other into your schedules, more like second nature, but things were still tense whenever things didn’t line up.
None of this was eased by the burgeoning whatever-it-was you’d shoved to the back of your mind regarding Jimin. Since the day of Mr. Vlad’s ballet class, you’d managed to keep your emotions in check, but were constantly on the lookout for dangerous situations. You and Jimin were professionals, obviously, but you were also only human. It was reasonable to have subconscious wants and desires, but these weren’t important unless you chose to act upon them.
You didn’t tell Finn about it because honestly, there was nothing to tell. Okay, so you’d felt an errant spark one day during a lift. Big deal. Finn had been your boyfriend for over two years – it would take more than that to threaten your relationship. A relationship which, frankly, had been getting stronger as of late. Telling him something as inconsequential as a spark you had with Jimin would only take you further down the wrong path.
“Are you sure you’re okay with us doing separate things tomorrow?” Finn interrupted your thoughts. His brow furrowed. “It is Halloween, after all.”
“Ah, yes.” You nodded. “Halloween, the internationally known couple’s holiday.”
He laughed. “Okay, point made – but still.”
“It’s fine,” you assured him. This was something you’d already been over. “It just makes sense like this! Your friends are going to that off-campus party and I promised Noelle I’d go to this club thing with her.”
“Right, of course.” Finn grinned. “I’m bummed I’ll miss seeing you as the Powerpuff girls, though. Who’s going to be the third one, again?”
“Well, I’m Blossom – obviously.”
“Of course.” He nodded. “Miss Responsibility.”
A twinge of annoyance went through you, but you pushed it aside. You didn’t think you were always the responsible one but admittedly, you’d been more on edge than usual lately.
“Anyways,” you continued with a roll of your eyes. “I’m Blossom, Noelle is Buttercup and Irene is going as Bubbles. It’ll be fun! Aside from the whole club part, of course.”
“It does sound fun,” Finn admitted, a tad mournful. “Meanwhile, I’ve been roped into the classic college bro costume of Ghostbusters.”
“Oh, come on! That is classic! You’ll be super cute in your… suit? Cargo pants? What do Ghostbusters wear again?”
“Knowing Ben, something tragic from Party City. Pray for me.”
“I’ll light candles.”
Finn grinned, sipping his coffee again and your conversation slipped naturally to other topics.
Halloween fell on a Saturday this year, which meant every college campus was gearing up for some epic parties. Noelle had managed to snag tickets to a club fancy enough to require an RSVP. Apparently, said brother she missed was a DJ and could get tickets to a lot of things if Noelle bothered to ask.
A bunch of people from Russet were going, which made you excited. There hadn’t been many parties with your classmates so far this semester. Despite technically being in college, your classmates were all under the same intense pressure, only made worse by constant early morning ballet.
This week though, even your teachers seemed to have decided you needed a break. Aside from the master class you had this afternoon, there were zero Russet classes until Monday morning. The break in schedule meant you could actually go out – and drink – if you so decided. You and Noelle were planning on attending a ballet class tomorrow, but your entire day after would be free.
You’d originally planned on seeing Finn during the day, but then he’d been invited to a Halloween darty (day party) starting at noon. Despite not seeing Finn on Halloween, you weren’t feeling stressed. It was only one holiday and not even a couple’s one, as you’d said.
After coffee, you kissed Finn goodbye and headed to class at Danley Hall. The atmosphere was different as soon as you entered the classroom – all of the students were buzzing, excited by the prospect of the weekend ahead. The excitement only grew when coupled with the fact that today’s class was contemporary.
For nearly two months, your training had been mostly ballet. This was the foundation of all western dance, and where most dance students were expected to start. Finally though, you were being given a chance to show off. Today’s teacher, Luna Jordan, was a well-known contemporary choreographer across the globe.
You’d done a master class with her once back in high school and honestly couldn’t wait to learn from her again. She wasn’t alone, though, you noticed as you walked in – an unfamiliar, dark-haired guy stood beside her, stretching lithely before the room’s mirror.
“Holy shit,” Noelle whispered as she came to a stop. “That’s Jeon Jungkook.”
Startled, you looked twice and saw she was right. You hadn’t recognized him without his bevy of followers, but Jeon Jungkook was known in the dance world. A child prodigy, he’d been on America’s Got Talent at age eleven and finished in second place. Following this, his family had moved to LA and he’d been in high demand for movies, music videos and performances ever since.
You remembered hearing he worked with Luna Jordan, but the thought hadn’t crossed your mind before now that he might be here.
Noelle cocked her head to one side. “He’s hot.”
“Noelle,” you hissed, trying to shush her.
“What!” A devious grin spread across her face. “Am I supposed to be blind, as well as mute?”
“Well, no, but –”
“Alright, everyone!” Miss Luna clapped her hands together. “I know everyone is excited for the weekend, but we unfortunately have an hour and a half together before then. Everyone spread out for warm-ups!”
A few people laughed, spreading out on the floor as class began. Noelle wriggled her eyebrows, pulling you towards the front in order to get the best spot. Hiding a smile, you ducked your head and settled beside her into a stretch.
Noelle was nearly as excited as you were for the opportunity to dance contemporary. Most of your classmates knew this to be your forte – you caught glances from the corner of your eye while you warmed up, trying not to let their attention get to your head.
Jimin was also near the front, although on the opposite side. You suspected your class was equally excited to see him perform – as talented as Jimin was at ballet, there was a reason you hadn’t thought he’d be at Russet this fall. Jimin’s strength in jazz and contemporary was unparalleled. You would’ve thought he’d gone to LA to become a dancer like Jungkook.
Speaking of whom – Jungkook really was attractive; that much couldn’t be denied. He had dark, wavy hair pulled into a bun and cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass. When he glanced up from his stretch, his gaze somehow found yours and he smiled.
Eyes widening, you stared until you caught sight of Jimin behind him. Glancing between the two of you, Jimin’s expression soured before he looked away. Lips parting, you felt the sudden urge to say something, but there was too much distance between you.
“You ready?” Miss Luna called, an upbeat pop song blasting from the stereo. “Let’s go!”
She launched into isolations, leaving the rest of the class to follow. Warm-ups passed quickly and before you knew it, you were gathered at center to learn the combination. Miss Luna’s style was right up your alley. The steps came easily and, once you’d learned the whole chorus, she left you alone to practice.
You were helping Ari with a difficult move when you caught sight of Sabrina as you turned. She’d positioned herself near the back, which had to be a first. Usually, Sabrina was front and center to allow for maximum receipt of teacher praise.
The decision to stand near the back could’ve been strategy – sometimes, dancers did that at conventions. Conventions were giant weekends of competition with teachers from all over the globe who taught master classes to hundreds of dancers in hotel ballrooms and convention centers. Space at the front tended to be limited, so some stayed at the back, where there was more room to dance and be seen. You had a greater likelihood to capture the teacher’s attention when you had the room to do incredible leaps.
Sabrina’s decision didn’t seem strategic, though. While you watched, Sabrina stumbled transitioning from one move to the next. A brief twinge of pity went through you.
It was easy enough to spot ballerinas dancing anything but ballet. Although ballet was the root of modern westernized dance, it could be hard to translate into other styles. Ballet was more rigid than contemporary, jazz or hip-hop. In ballet, each position was defined, individual style was limited, and dancers were expected to all look the same. Standing out in the corps de ballet was equally frowned upon as missing an entrance.
Not that ballet wasn’t important to all dance styles, mind you. Even hip-hop dancers took ballet to improve their balance, core strength and general understanding of the body. There was an element of individuality in other dance styles, though, which lacked in ballet. Contemporary and hip-hop dancers were expected to have relentless technique all while creating their own, unique flair.
Just looking at Sabrina you could clearly see the holes. She was trying so hard to emulate the moves of Miss Luna, she was kind of missing the point. When Miss Luna did a certain flick of the wrist, it wasn’t a defined part of the choreography, but rather an individual choice.
Without thinking, you took a step forward – only to stop. Sabrina wouldn’t want your help; she’d already made that abundantly clear. Besides, you knew her friend Katie to be a contemporary dancer. She could help Sabrina and yet, when you looked, you saw Katie practicing near the front with Jungkook.
Jungkook obviously knew the steps, since this was probably the tenth time he’d learned the combination. Dance teachers often did that – selected a dancer to attend classes with them, traveling to different cities to demonstrate the combination and help when they weren’t free.
Before you could decide whether to help Sabrina, Miss Luna clapped her hands again.
“Let’s do groups!” she declared. “I’ll count you off into groups of four, and each group will showcase. Sound good?”
It wasn’t really a question so much as an announcement. The rest of the class nodded, waiting while Miss Luna counted you off. You ended up in the same group as Irene, Paulo and a few others. Jimin and Noelle were in the group two, while Sabrina was in the group after theirs.
Jogging off to the side, you waited while the first group took center. You were part of group four, which meant you’d be amongst the last to dance on the floor. When the music began, you closed your eyes and began to mark the combination. You tried not to focus on what anyone else was doing, but this became difficult once Noelle’s group stepped up.
Noelle had trained in jazz and contemporary, although she’d stopped in high school to focus mainly on ballet. Still, her artistry shone in her movement. She could definitely stand to loosen up a bit but was still one of the best in the bunch. You found yourself smiling when she landed a turn, silently cheering her on from the side.
While you were watching, Jimin cut across your vision.
Dropping to the ground, he rolled and arched as his forehead brushed wood. His quality of movement was breathtaking and for a moment, you felt like you were back in high school.
Suddenly returned to those dimmed auditoriums, you watched Jimin take the stage like an otherworldly being. His body seemed to move before your mind could comprehend. Barely did he finish one move before he was starting another, the steps flowing endlessly together like unhindered water. Although you knew the combination and knew how you would dance it, watching Jimin perform was a different experience entirely.
Ballet required dancers to stay on the beat but in contemporary, they were expected to lag. Extensions were all the more breathtaking when they clung to the last second, seeming as though the dancer might not make it before they caught up. Jimin was an expert in this, knowing exactly when to hang precariously over the edge and when to pull back.
Watching him dance, that pesky, strange something bloomed in your chest again.
Squashing this quickly, you looked away and resumed marking the combo. The end of the song was improvisation though and, unable to stop yourself, you found your attention drifting to Jimin again. He was ridiculously beautiful – you nearly didn’t hear when Miss Luna called for them to stop. As she turned off the music, she applauded the group while they walked from the floor.
Breathing heavily, Noelle came to a stop alongside you and – somewhat guiltily, since you hadn’t been watching – you gave her a high-five.
“That was awesome!” you said with a grin. “You definitely stood out in the group.”
Noelle snort-laughed. “Not with Jimin up there, but that’s okay. This is his specialty – and yours,” she added with a wink. “I’m psyched for group four.”
“Ah,” you groaned, rubbing your neck. “Too much pressure.”
Noelle laughed, shaking her head as group three took the floor. Both of you fell silent to watch, your curious gaze finding Sabrina in the back. Sabrina looked almost nervous; an emotion which seemed out of place on her features. It made her look almost human.
As soon as the music began, you stifled a wince. Sabrina stood out from the group, and not in a good way. She had the combination down but moved with a woodenness you would’ve expected from someone half her age. It was enough for you to glance at Miss Luna, wondering if she had noticed.
“Wow,” Noelle whispered, looking almost gleeful. “Sabrina is terrible.”
“Noelle!” you whisper-laughed.
“What? After everything she’s done? After everything she’s said?” Noelle’s gaze narrowed. “Sabrina deserves this.”
Despite privately agreeing, you couldn’t help but feel bad as Sabrina continued. Not wanting to watch any longer, you turned towards the front and resumed marking the combo. As soon as Miss Luna cut the music and polite clapping ensued, you turned back around.
It was time for group four. A shaky, sick feeling entered your stomach as you walked to center. So many eyes were on you, but it had been so long since you danced contemporary. You couldn’t help but wonder if you were as good as people seemed to imagine. Surrounded by so many dancers at Russet, surely your own talent would pale in comparison.
As soon as the music began though, everything faded. Insecurities slipping away, a lightness entered your chest as, eyes falling shut, you slowly inhaled.
Taking a step forward, you opened your eyes and began.
To you, dance had several phases. The first was learning, where you memorized each step and put them in order. The second was understanding, where your muscle memory began to take over and the combination felt smoother. The final phase, performance, was when you thought not of the steps, and were free to just dance.
This was your favorite phrase. In this phase, your mind separated from your body, leaving you only with sweat and emotion. Dance was the only art form composed solely of the body. An odd combination of physical strength and artistic beauty, it was both a testament to human capability and human emotion.
Losing yourself in the music, you ebbed and flowed through the combination until the choreography ended and improvisation began. Finally, you let go and held nothing back. Raw, unbridled passion poured out as you lost sight of yourself, so consumed by the movement.
When the song finally finished and you came to a stop, you were panting for breath. Glancing up, the first person you saw was Jimin.
He stood off to one side, leaning casually against the rungs of the barre, but his expression was anything but. Focused on you, his gaze had turned dark in a way which made you catch your breath.
Miss Luna clapped both hands once again, returning your attention to her. Blinking, Jimin shook his head and in your peripheral, you saw him straighten.
“Very good!” Miss Luna scanned the group. “I know our time is nearly at and end, but why don’t we have a few students come out and demonstrate?”
Again, this was fairly common in master classes. After learning the combination, teachers would often single out students to perform as examples. It wasn’t always the students with the best technique who got chosen. Oftentimes, it was as much for passion and performance quality.
Taking a step forward, Miss Luna began to call out names. You were one of the first – setting your water down, you jogged back to center. Jimin was the next person called, then Noelle, much to your excitement. Jungkook was also instructed to join on the floor.
Turning the lights halfway down, Miss Luna pressed play and let you improvise until the combination began. Jungkook started dancing and honestly, he was beautiful, but you couldn’t linger on him for long. 
Catching sight of Jimin again, you were once more transported to earlier times. This wasn’t the first time you’d been called out together. Oftentimes, this had happened at conventions but back then, your mind had been too clouded to see him for who he was.
You’d always wanted to beat him in high school, but now, you were consumed by the oddest desire to see him do well.
Glancing up, Jimin caught your gaze and he smiled – but then, the combination began.
By the time you were finished, you could hardly catch your breath but somehow, you felt the most alive you’d been in ages. Back in your own element, surrounded by some of the most amazing dancers in the world – this was what you’d imagined when you came to Russet.
People around the room clapped, some of them begrudgingly. You got the impression many of your classmates weren’t used to not being chosen. As you walked from the floor, you saw surprisingly, Sabrina wasn’t amongst them.
Instead, Sabrina simply looked tired – as though she’d tried her best and it hadn’t been enough. You knew that look. You sympathized with that look.
The look lingered in the back of your mind while you packed up your things and listened to Noelle discuss Halloween tomorrow. When she mentioned Ari had decided to visit her family this weekend, an idea began to form in your mind.
“Wait,” you interrupted, looking up. “Ari can’t come tomorrow?”
Noelle shook her head. “Her brother just turned eighteen, so her whole family is having a party or something.”
“So… her ticket is free, then?”
“Yes…” Noelle paused. “Why? Y/N, what are you planning?”
“Okay. Hear me out,” you said as you shrugged on your coat. It was cold enough now for the coat to be necessary.
Noelle sighed, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Alright, I’m listening.”
Glancing away, you saw Sabrina packing her things on the other side of the room. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you returned to Noelle.
“What if we invited Sabrina?”
Noelle snorted. “Pass.”
“Noelle,” you laughed, reaching out for her arm. “Come on! Do you really think she’s doing anything for Halloween?”
“Probably not. And that’s her own fault.”
“Maybe,” you said, glancing at Sabrina once more. “But how could it hurt? We have an extra ticket, there’ll be tons of people tomorrow night. She’ll probably say no – at least this way, you can claim a write-off on your way into heaven!”
Noelle upper lip twitched. “Oh, is that how write-offs work?”
“Well, I can only assume.”
Finally, she laughed. “Ugh, fine. You can invite her – but only because it’s Halloween, and Halloween is a time for peace. And slutty costumes.”
“Thanks, babe,” you said, squeezing her waist in a one-armed hug.
Sighing exaggeratedly, Noelle waved aside your thanks. Hiking your bag higher, you began to make your way across the room. As you closed in on Sabrina, you began to rethink your choice. It had been nearly a month since anything bad had happened between you but still, you found yourself feeling wary. As tough as you pretended to be, rejection hurt you just as much as the next person.
Still, dancing with Jimin had been a reminder of just how bitter your relationship used to be. If that relationship could change, you had to imagine things with Sabrina could, too.
Coming to a stop at her bag, you waited for her to look up. When she finally did, her brow wrinkled in confusion.
“What?” Sabrina asked, sounding defensive. “What do you want, Y/N?”
You couldn’t really blame her for her suspicion. Had your situations been reversed, you would’ve been equally distrustful. It was likely Sabrina thought you were coming over to gloat, or say something to do with class today. Another twinge of pity went through you as Sabrina zipped her bag shut to stand.
“I just wanted to know what you were doing tomorrow,” you said, trying to smile. “Noelle has an extra ticket to a Halloween party, and we thought you might like to come.”
Sabrina stared. “What?”
“Tomorrow is Halloween,” you said, a bit slower. “You know – when we were kids, it was all about costumes and candy. Now, it’s about costumes and booze?”
Sabrina failed to crack a smile. “And you want… me to come to this party?”
Something about the way she said this made you sad, as though she genuinely thought this might be a joke. As though at any moment, someone might jump out and yell SIKE.
“Yeah,” you said, softening a little. “Look – it’s not a big deal if you can’t make it. A bunch of our class is going though, so we thought of you.”
Sabrina hesitated, then glanced at the door. “Okay,” she said, looking back. “Okay, yeah. I’ll come.”
Stifling your surprise, you nodded. “Great. I’ll text you where to meet us tomorrow before the club. Wear a costume,” you added before walking away. “Noelle said it’s required.”
“Alright,” Sabrina said, so quiet you almost missed it.
Walking away, you were nearly at the door when Jungkook popped up before you. Flashing a smile, he fixed a loose strand of hair away from his face. Feet fumbling to a stop, you could only stare.
“Y/N, right?” he said, sounding shy.
Unable to find the words, you blinked in response. The way Jungkook danced had been so confident, you’d only assumed this to be his off-floor persona, as well. Hearing him sound shy was unexpected. 
Also – you hadn’t expected him to know your name.
“I… yeah, that’s me.” Shaking your head, you smiled. “Jungkook, right?”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “I just wanted to say I’m such a big fan of your dancing. It was great to take class with you today.”
Without meaning to, a laugh escaped your lips. Jungkook stared at you, baffled until you quickly waved him off.
“Oh, no – no! Sorry,” you said. “I’m not laughing at you! I’m just laughing at the ridiculousness of you saying you’re a fan of me.”
Some of Jungkook’s wariness disappeared, and a small smile played across his lips.
“Well, I am.” His grin widened. “I used to assist on the convention circuit, too and I remember you being called out all the time. You and Jimin,” he added, glancing across the room.
You looked, too and saw Jimin still packing his things. His back was stiff, pointedly not looking in your direction. Lingering on him a moment, you returned to Jungkook.
“Still,” you said with a laugh. “It’s a bit of a stretch to say we took class together when you’re the teacher’s assistant.”
“True.” Jungkook paused. “Well, next time you’re in LA, let’s fix that. Let me know if you’re ever in town and we can take a class together.”
Despite yourself, your brows raised. It was harmless, but Jungkook was definitely flirting with you. He was attractive, sure and seemed nice, but he lived in LA and you had a boyfriend. You should probably leave before things had the chance to go any further. The last thing you needed was another complication. Adjusting your bag, you gave Jungkook a small smile.
“Sounds like a plan,” you said before turning away.
Jungkook chuckled from behind. “Bye, Y/N.”
As you joined Noelle at the door, she stared over your shoulder.
“What?” you said, coming to a stop.
Noelle’s gaze moved to yours in disbelief. “How?” she demanded as you exited class. “How do you have all these men just… tripping over themselves for you?”
Heat rising to your face, you shook your head. “That’s – I,” you sputtered. “You’re being ridiculous!”
“Am I?” Noelle grinned. “First Jimin, now Jungkook… and all this while having a boyfriend.” 
“I… you... Jimin is not tripping over himself for me!”
Both her brows shot way, way up. “Is that the only part of the sentence you took objection to?”
“Shut up,” you groaned and shoved her in the side.
Noelle laughed but nodded. “Alright, fine! I’ll stop. Did Sabrina say she’ll come?”
“She did.”
“Great. I still don’t like her,” Noelle said, pushing open the door. “But I guess you’re right, I have an extra ticket. It’s nice to be nice.”
You laughed, pulling your coat tighter as you walked outside. “You’re a saint.”
While you walked, your phone dinged and pulling this from your pocket, you saw a notification on Instagram. Jeon_Jungkook97 has followed you.
Shaking your head, you returned this to your jacket as you continued. While it was nice of Jungkook to compliment your dancing, his approval didn’t mean as much as certain other peoples had. This realization stuck in your mind, making you wonder about Noelle’s teasing jibe.
She had said Jimin flirted with you, but that wasn’t true – was it? You would have known if Jimin were flirting. It was hard to pick out though, since Jimin was friendly with everyone. That was just who he was; as he’d said earlier, he liked to be liked. A note of uncertainty entered your thoughts though, recalling the ballet class with your chest pressed to his. Shoving this away, you forced yourself to focus on the upcoming weekend.
Halloween was a night for fun, for letting loose and enjoying yourself with your friends. You refused to let the night be spoiled by any lingering feelings – either from you, or towards you.
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The next night was perfect Halloween weather.
Chilly, but not cold enough to risk snow falling. There were several Halloweens from childhood you could recall trick-or-treating with a winter coat flung over your costume because the temperature had dropped below freezing.
You, Noelle and Irene showed up to Paulo’s house around 8:00 PM, shivering a little while you stood on his doorstep. Paulo was one of the few freshmen who lived off-campus, having known several upperclassmen before he came to Russet. The brownstone he lived in was cute, with window boxes you imagined hosted flowers in the summer.
Tugging your pink and black minidress down, you adjusted your bow as Paulo opened the door.
Blinking, he took in your costumes. “The Powerpuff girls!” He cheered, raising an arm overhead. “Try not to take down any of the villains upstairs, yeah?”
“No promises,” said Irene, flicking hair over her shoulder.
Entering the house, you heard thumping bass from an apartment upstairs. Paulo lived on the third floor and as you climbed the steps, the music grew louder. It took Paulo two tries to shove open the door – “warped wood,” he explained – but once you were inside, you saw familiar faces.
“The Powerpuff girls!” Jasmine cried, jumping up from the couch. “Finally! Thank god – can you take down Eamon? He came here dressed as a potato, or something.”
“It’s an avocado!” Eamon shouted from the kitchen. He was dressed in a round, green costume with a halo overhead. “I’m ‘holy guacamole’ – get it?” he said, pointing at the halo.
Jasmine stared at him a moment. “That’s terrible. Worse than mine,” she said with a wave down her body. “I’ve been Princess Jasmine for the past five Halloweens. It’s easy to remember and I already have the outfit.”
Laughing, you shrugged off your coat and added this to a pile on the couch. “It’s a classic,” you agreed as you turned.
Noelle had managed to procure at least twenty tickets to the party tonight, so a lot of your freshman Russet class was in attendance. Including Sabrina, who stood in the corner, talking to Louis over cups of red punch. She looked up when you entered, pausing before she gave a small wave. Surprised by the gesture, you did the same.
“No.” Noelle groaned, coming to a stop alongside you. When you looked, you saw she’d already removed her coat. “Tell me Sabrina didn’t come to this party dressed as a ballerina.”
“We did invite her at the last minute,” you laughed. “Hard to find a good Halloween costume in a day.”
“Hey,” Noelle argued. “There’s no we here. You were the one who invited her, and you’ll be the one to accept the consequences should your social experiment fail.”
“Done,” you agreed. “Speaking of social experiments though, I’m ready to get drunk tonight. Where’s the alcohol?”
“Kitchen!” Irene called, brushing past. “Or – that’s where Brian disappeared to when we entered, so I can only assume.”
Telling Noelle you’d be back with drinks, you wound through the room towards where Irene had pointed. The kitchen was tiny, on par with most city apartments. There was only room enough for one or two people, so you were lucky it was deserted when you entered.
Surveying the counter, you found the usual party staples. A bowl of red punch, a bunch of beer and various liquor bottles with chasers. Skipping over the communal punch bowl, you reached for a bottle of diet coke and coconut rum.
“Oh,” a voice said as they entered the kitchen. “Sorry – I didn’t know you were in here.”
Glancing up, you saw Jimin and froze.
He’d dyed his hair black – that was the first thing you noticed. Jimin’s hair was no longer blonde, but completely dark. His outfit confused you at first – a frilly, white blouse with slicked-back hair and dark trousers – until you saw his bright red contacts and the dribble of blood at his mouth.
“A vampire,” you said, finally recovering your voice. Scanning his body, you frowned. “Where are the teeth, though?”
Jimin blinked, his gaze jerking up from your waist.
“Huh?” he said, sounding a bit strangled.
Cheeks heating a little – your dress was pretty short – you repeated yourself. “The teeth,” you said, pointing at your own lips. “Don’t vampires have fangs?”
“Oh, right.” Jimin dug around in his pocket – fuck, were his trousers tight – to produce twin fangs. “I took them off when I got here. They’re really hard to talk in.”
“Go on then, Park,” you said with a grin. “Put them in.”
“One second.” Twisting to face the wall, Jimin popped them in his mouth. Turning around, he bared his teeth. “Sexy?”
With the teeth in though, the word came out more like shex-shie and you burst into laughter. “So sexy,” you agreed, reaching past him for a cup.
Jimin stiffened when your arm brushed his front. Unbidden, you thought about what Noelle had said – Jimin had been flirting with you. Pulling away, you resumed making your drinks and tried not to look in his direction.
Even so, you remained aware of his presence. Jimin inched his way behind you, reaching for the whiskey on the other side. His arm brushed your elbow as he went, right knee nudging yours in an intimate gesture.
Glancing up from the counter, you accidentally caught his gaze. Despite your earlier joking, he did look sexy. Devastatingly so. Even the blood-red contacts weren’t enough to deter the shiver which ran down your spine.
Shaking yourself free from your trance, you grabbed both cups and pulled back. 
“So, what’re you drinking?” you asked. 
You decided it was best to steer the conversation away from how sexy Park Jimin was or was not.
Seemingly oblivious to your inner turmoil, Jimin poured whiskey into his cup. “Whiskey and coke. Can you pass me that bottle?”
“Sure,” you said, leaping at the chance to prevent him from walking past you again. “Here you go.”
Pushing this forward, you watched Jimin pour both drinks all the way to the brim. He paused near the end, staring into the depths before he looked up. He seemed to be warring with something, debating whether or not to speak whatever was on his mind.
“So…” He paused. “Do you know Jungkook, or something?”
You blinked. “Jungkook…?”
“You know, Miss Luna’s assistant. Jeon Jungkook.”
“Oh! Jungkook. No, I don’t really know him.”
“You were talking to him at the end of class, though?”
Hearing the curiosity in his voice, both your brows raised. “And?”
“And nothing,” Jimin said, sounding uncomfortable. “I just… I didn’t know you knew him, that’s all.”
“I mean, I don’t.” You paused. “But even if I did, what does it matter?”
“It doesn’t.” His cheeks began to redden. “It’s just – ah, never mind. We don’t have that great a history, that’s all. He’s kind of the reason I’m at Russet this year.”
You stared at Jimin a moment. “Wow, what a tragedy,” you said, stifling a laugh. “To have been forced to attend one of the most prestigious dance institutions in the world.”
His upper lip twitched. “It’s not that. I was deciding between attending Russet and accepting a job offer out west. I was asked to join this pop star on tour… anyways, Jungkook’s never liked me much. It’s a long story.” Jimin’s brow furrowed. “My offer was rescinded at the last minute. The artist never said why, but I always got the feeling he had something to do with it.”
You stared at Jimin a moment, unsure how to respond. Jungkook hadn’t seemed like that kind of person, but you supposed you’d only talked to him for a few minutes. If that was true, what happened to Jimin sucked and yet, the next words from your mouth nearly had you face-palming.
“And here I thought I was your biggest rival, Park,” you said.
Jimin’s eyes widened. “Are you… jealous, Y/N?”
He sounded almost pleased by the notion, which sent a different kind of shiver down your spine.
“Not at all,” you said quickly, turning back to your drinks.
Jimin made a soft tsk-ing sound, as though he didn’t believe you.
“That sucks,” you continued, determined to change the subject. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”
“Yeah. Maybe it was all for the best, though. Things happen for a reason, right?”
Looking up, you caught Jimin’s stare. He didn’t look immediately away and you got the oddest sensation he meant more than what he said. Hastily, you pushed this feeling aside, clutching your drinks as you entered the main room. Jimin followed close behind, two cups in his hands.
“When did you get here?” you asked. “Been here long?”
Jimin shook his head. “Nah. Hoseok and I got here like, ten minutes ago. He should be around here somewhere, he –”
“Y/N!”
You looked up just in time to see Hoseok, Jimin’s roommate, barreling towards you.
“It’s been so long!” Crushing you to his chest, Hoseok wrapped you in a hug. “Hope Jimin isn’t boring you to death,” he stage-whispered before he pulled away.
“Just for that.” Jimin arched a brow. “Both these drinks are for me.”
“No – wait, wait. I’m sorry!” Hoseok pouted. “Hand over the drink, Park. It’s been the longest fucking week.”
Jimin grinned and relented, handing Hoseok his cup as you laughed. Hoseok was a newer friend, but he was close to Jimin, so he’d gradually bled into your latest gatherings. Despite not being on the ballet track, most of the dancers at Russet knew of him. Hoseok had that way about him.
Glancing down at your outfit, Hoseok held up a finger. “Let me guess – Blossom,” he said, turning to scan the room. “Which means… aha! Irene is Bubbles and Noelle is Buttercup. Makes sense.”
“And you are…” Pausing, you squinted at his outfit. “Someone at the spa?”
“Sure.” Hoseok shrugged. “Honestly, I just wanted to wear a bathrobe.”
Said bathrobe was paired with only boxers, the front of the robe open to display his toned abs. The costume didn’t surprise you, based on past interactions with Hoseok.
Casually, he twirled the robe tie in a circle. “Impressive, no?” Hoseok glanced away. “Whoa, wait – they have beer pong? See you all later!”
Hurrying off, he left you alone with Jimin. Shaking your head, you glanced in his direction and saw Jimin down his whole drink. Arching a brow, you were about to ask why when Irene called your names from across the room.
“Y/N!” She waved her hands. “Jimin! Get over here, you two – we need more for flip cup!”
You found yourself pulled in this direction despite your insistence you didn’t do well under pressure. Jimin ended up at the other end of the table and you lost sight of him when you started to play, paired with Jasmine for a partner.
By the end of the first round, you discovered you weren’t as horrible a player as you’d imagined. Then someone suggested mixed drinks for the second round, and things became fuzzier. There were more people present than just current students of Russet. One of Paulo’s roommates knew Seokjin, so you saw him in the room, along with Sana.
You chatted with both over the course of the evening, in addition to a guy who’d recently debuted on Broadway, Kim Taehyung. Apparently, there was already buzz around him for a Tony. Taehyung was nice, but it was sometime during this conversation you realized how tipsy you were. Apparently, not drinking for several months and then going ham made for very low tolerance.
Collapsing onto the couch, you joined Irene and Brian’s conversation. In the corner of your eye, you caught sight of Noelle – a terrible flip cup player, she’d roped Hoseok into giving her private lessons, but these seemed to be going terribly. Or perhaps very well, given how much the two of them were laughing.
You completely forgot about Jimin until you spotted him across the room talking to Sabrina. Seeing them together, you straightened. Both seemed fairly comfortable, which struck you as odd. Since that morning in Jimin’s dorm, you hadn’t really seen them hang out together.
Despite this, Jimin was laughing at something Sabrina had said. Tearing your gaze away, you forced yourself to focus on the conversation at hand. It didn’t matter who Jimin spoke to, or even who he decided to go home with tonight. He was your dance partner and friend, nothing more and besides – you had a boyfriend.
Blinking, you reached into your clutch and pulled out your phone. To your disappointment, you’d gotten no texts from Finn since this morning. You assumed he was still at his party but didn’t know for sure. Shooting him a text, hey, you waited for a response and when you got none, returned your phone to your purse.
Across the room, you heard Noelle yell your name. “Y/N!” She cupped her mouth with both hands. “We need another person for flip cup!”
Laughing, you pushed yourself from the couch and were immediately roped into your fourth game of the night. The night blurred again after that, turning into a pleasant hum of conversation and booze. At some point, Ubers were called to bring you to the club. As you rushed downstairs, you realized you forgot your coat as soon as you stepped outside.
Shivering violently, you rubbed your arms and cursed yourself for poor foresight.
“Y/N?” Jimin came to a stop alongside you. “Hey, where’s your coat?”
“Inside,” you said through chattering teeth. “I-it’s fine, though. I’m fine!”
Jimin gave you a look. “Where’s Paulo?” he said, glancing around. “I’ll grab him, we can get your coat before we go –”
“The Uber’s already here, though,” you argued, grabbing his sleeve to drag him towards the curb. “I’ll be fine from here to the club!”
Jimin sighed but gave in, following when you rushed to the grey SUV. Irene had claimed the front seat, so you and Jimin pulled open the middle door – Noelle and Hoseok were crowding behind you, so you and Jimin ended up together in the backseat.
Collapsed in a heap, you giggled as Jimin tried to squish himself in a corner. “Sorry,” he said, trying – and failing – to keep his knees separate.
“Jimin.” You snorted. “Are we going to go through this again? Your hands have been in way more inappropriate places than that this semester.”
Jimin’s lips parted, shocked, but you were already hoisting yourself over the middle seat. Draping your arms next to Noelle, you begged her to play your favorite song on the radio. Had you been more sober, you might’ve recognized your position to be precarious – perched on the edge of your seat, your ass hovered inches away from Jimin’s face.
Plopping back down, you glanced sideways at Jimin and found him frozen. Suddenly, you realized the visual he’d had.
“Um, so what happened to the teeth?” you blurted, determined to change the subject.
Jimin blinked and managed to meet your gaze. “Casualty of flip cup,” he said. “One of them fell out during the game and I couldn’t find where it rolled.”
“Well, that’s okay. You can just be one of those vampires who blend in with normal humans. You know, the kind whose fangs only come out when they want to bite someone.”
“That’s true.” Jimin arched a brow. “Lucky for you, I’m not hungry.”
“Lucky for me? Lucky for you,” you retorted. “My blood is about half alcohol right now. If you drank my blood, you’d be a very silly vampire.”
The idea of a silly vampire made you laugh – even more so when you pictured said vampire as Jimin. He seemed much too coherent for your liking right now.
“A silly vampire, huh?” Jimin looked on, amused. “Damn, Y/N – when was the last time you went out? Your tolerance is shit.”
“I know,” you sighed. “I haven’t drunk much this semester. Too much dance, too little time. I think the last time I went out was –”
“We’re here!” squealed Noelle, throwing open the door.
A blast of cold air hit you and you shivered, wishing you’d worn your coat. Jimin’s gaze remained steady on yours.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he said lowly. “I can give you, uh…”
“Your shirt?” you said dryly, lifting a brow as you brushed past. “Then you’d be shirtless, Park. Let’s think this through.”
Jimin chuckled before he followed suit, although you cursed as soon as you left the car. He was correct. It was freezing, even with your alcohol-induced blanket.
“Come on!” you yelped, following Noelle towards the entrance.
Bypassing the line, Noelle walked straight towards the bouncer and showed him her phone. He nodded and waved her past, counting your friend group who followed. Not everyone from Paulo’s place had gone to the club, but enough for you to make quite the entrance.
“Y/N!” Noelle doubled back to link arms with you. “Come on – this way! That guy’s going to show us to our table.”
“Table?” you asked her, wide-eyed.
Tables in a club on Halloween night were ridiculously expensive, but it seemed Noelle had downplayed her brother’s connections. Your group was led right to the front of the upper balcony, getting a coveted spot overlooking the dance floor below.
This was undeniably the coolest club you’d been in. Not that you’d been in many, mind you, but this one had to take the cake. A half-circle of tables took up the top floor, with twin staircases descending to the main room below. Most of the lower floor was for dancing, although you saw additional tables pushed to the sides. Fluorescent bars and dance platforms were dotted throughout and above all was the DJ booth, blasting the latest songs.
“Whoa,” you breathed.
Noelle grinned, squeezing your arm to pull you into the booth. As soon as you settled in, Jasmine leapt up and clapped her hands.
“I want to be in one of those!” she said, pointing to a glowing cage at the center of the dance floor.
“Oo, me too!” Irene leapt up to join her.
“Me, three!” said Paulo, clambering out of the booth.
“Awesome.” Irene beamed and glanced your way. “What about you, Y/N? You in?”
The idea was tempting for a moment, but then Finn flashed through your mind. You highly doubted he’d be on board with you gyrating for a room full of strangers without him. Somewhat dejectedly, you plopped back on the bench.
“That’s okay,” you sighed. “I think I’m going to stay here for a while. I’ll join you later!”
Irene frowned but nodded, following the rest when they left for the stairs. About half the group went, clearing out the table while you stared at the dance floor.
Jimin slid into the bench alongside you. “You don’t want to dance?”
Startled, you glanced in his direction. While you watched, Jimin began to undo his cuffs, casually rolling the sleeves of his shirt. His hair, which had been slicked back at the start of the night, was starting to fall. Several dark strands hung over his forehead, although this only seemed to make the look more appealing.
“No,” you said, crossing your legs. “I just… don’t really feel like it.”
“Is this the whole hating clubs thing again?”
“Kind of.” You laughed. “I don’t know. Club dancing isn’t like normal dancing, you know?”
“It is when you’re at the club with all dancers,” Jimin pointed out, nodding towards the floor.
Following his gaze, you saw Jasmine dancing full-out in a lit-up cage. She wasn’t so much gyrating as she was creating choreography on the fly. The mere mortals around her looked on in awe. Fighting a smile, you returned to Jimin.
“Okay, that does look like fun,” you admitted. “The last time I was at a club was with Finn.”
Jimin blinked. “Sorry – what?”
“In the cab,” you said, leaning closer in order to be heard. “You asked me when I last went out. It was that night… um, the night you came and picked me up.”
Jimin stared at you a moment, as though contemplating something important. Abruptly, he stood and held out a hand. You blinked at this like he’d offered a football.
“What are you doing?” you said, glancing up.
“Taking you down to the dance floor.” Jimin retracted said hand. “Come on, Y/N! You don’t have to give out dry lap dances, or whatever.”
“Hey!” In disbelief, your mouth fell open. “You said you’d forget all about that!”
His smile turned impish. “Seriously, we can just do the sprinkler, or something. It’ll be fun!”
“The sprinkler?” Starting to laugh, you stood. “Was that really the first move you thought of?”
“Nah. My go-to move is the criss-cross, but I figured this was more your speed.”
Snorting, you shoved him in the arm before following Jimin to the dance floor. It didn’t take you long to spot your other friends, clustered near the front and around the DJ booth.
“Y/N!” Noelle cheered, breaking off from the pack. “You made it!”
She nearly spilled her drink while she danced, catching herself just in time as she spun around. You grinned, entering the circle with Jimin by your side. He did, in fact, pull out the criss-cross – Hoseok joined in and soon, there was a Fortnite dance battle between them. You truly haven’t lived until you’ve seen a TikTok dance-off between two semi-professional dancers.
This ended with both declaring mutual defeat, and Hoseok disappearing to buy the next round. Noelle shimmied her way over to Jasmine, accepting the hand given to stand on the platform.
You laughed at their ridiculous dance moves, choosing instead to stay on the ground. The crowd around you had thinned since you’d joined. Eamon disappeared a few minutes later, saying something about needing a drink upstairs. Before long, Irene had joined Jasmine and Noelle on the platform, leaving you alone with Jimin on the floor.
Under other circumstances, you might have felt uncomfortable, but Jimin was so good at putting you at ease. Determined to keep you in the present, he came up with more and more complicated dance moves which had you snorting with laughter.
On a particularly flamboyant spin, Jimin accidentally smacked the drink from someone’s grasp. Blue vodka splattered everywhere, drenching its owner – a burly man in leather who snarled in frustration.
Looking up, he met your gaze and his eyes narrowed.
“Shit. Run!” you blurted out.
Grabbing Jimin by the arm, you dragged him into the crowd.
“No, wait – let me apologize!” Jimin tried to twist around. “I can pay for his drink! I can –”
Once there was suitable distance between you and the guy, you came to a stop. Laughing so hard you nearly fell over, you turned sideways to face him.
Bodies pressed against you from every side but rather than feel claustrophobic, all you could think about was Jimin before you. His hair had become thoroughly mussed during the night and you fought the sudden desire to smooth it down.
Although your breath came hard, the club around you seemed to slow. The music somehow had narrowed to pinpricks, a heady thump of bass while everything dulled.
What you should’ve done was taken a step back – but you didn’t.
Instead, your gaze drifted across his face. Jimin stared back, something intense to his gaze you couldn’t quite name. Breath caught in your throat, his eyes dropped to your lips.
Before you could react, someone bumped into you from behind, sending you careening forward. Jimin caught you easily, one arm around your waist and your chest pressed to his. You could feel every hard line of his body, his thigh wedged between your legs while you grasped at his arms. Heart thudding traitorously against your ribcage, you tried to ignore the emotions which followed.
It was impossible. 
The song playing was slower, sexier than the one which had inspired the dance-off. Without meaning to, your weight subtly shifted. This caused your hips to move against his as Jimin quietly sucked in a breath. The effect this had on him was instantaneous. His grip on you tightened, gaze heady with desire and something more. Before you could second-guess what you were doing, you moved your hips again – this time, on purpose.
Jimin’s eyes darkened. Without looking away, his grip on you tightened as he slowly dragged you up his thigh. Suddenly breathless, your hands gripped him tighter while your eyes fluttered shut. The heat of his body on yours, the faint smell of cologne and sweat, the tension in his limbs and the knowledge of what he could do to you – it all left your head spinning.
“Y/N,” Jimin murmured, low in your ear.
You weren’t used to him saying your name like that.
You were used to him saying your name in every other way, but not that. Sharp with dancer’s critique, brusque with instruction, light with teasing – but not like something heavy was lodged in his throat. Maybe his heart.
Panicked, your eyes flew open.
What were you doing? This wasn’t some random stranger and this sure as hell wasn’t your boyfriend. This was Jimin. Stumbling backwards, you broke from his hold. Jimin seemed equally stunned, staring at you on the dance floor.
“I have to go,” you blurted and whirled around.
Shoving into the crowd, you heard Jimin emit a soft groan. Despite this, he didn’t immediately pursue, for which you were grateful. Stumbling through strangers, strobe lights flashed brightly overhead. You squeezed between someone dressed as a go-go and another person dressed as a werewolf. Skidding to a stop on the edge of the floor, you scanned the room and saw no one from Russet.
When you glanced over your shoulder, you saw Jimin now followed. Panicking again, you began to move. Beside one of the bars, you spotted a hallway labeled restrooms. Heading in this direction, you quickly disappeared inside the door marked women.
Once inside, you locked yourself in a stall, lowered the lid and sat down. Head in hands, you slowly exhaled. You were a coward; that much was clear. Jimin was probably out there looking for you right now, but you’d rather hide in a bathroom than face him.
The fluorescent lighting overhead was too bright – it made you feel overexposed. After a long moment, you fished around in your purse and pulled out your phone. Flipping to your thread with Finn, you saw he’d sent no response since your text. Complete and utter silence.
Heart cracking a little, you slid this in your bag and stared at the door. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. When you imagined you and Finn at college, you’d always pictured you together, attending the same parties and sharing the same adventures. Tonight though, had proven to be anything but that. Finn hadn’t once glanced at his phone judging by the unread mark next to your text.
Dimly, you wondered why you weren’t more upset about this. It should bother you that Finn hadn’t called or even texted throughout the day. Sure, he was out with friends, but so were you and you’d reached out – as soon as you thought this, your heart sank.
You weren’t sure you could call Jimin a friend after what had just happened.
Sure, you’d only danced, and it had only been for a second but still, guilt bloomed behind your ribcage. The idea of Finn doing the same thing with anyone else made your heart twist. You wouldn’t feel that way if what you’d done wasn’t wrong.
Groaning out loud, you lowered your head to your hands. After several minutes, you felt calm enough to stand and pretend-flush the toilet. As you exited the stall, you walked to the sink and began washing your hands. Staring at yourself in the mirror, a million things ran through your mind.
Clearly, the situation with Jimin was worse than you’d thought. The spark you’d felt kept returning, no matter how much you tried to ignore it. Maybe the only solution was to find a new partner. The very idea made your heart sink, but you couldn’t deny things had gotten out of hand.
Before you could seriously consider the option, the door to the bathroom flung open and banged against the wall. Sabrina stormed in, wiping both eyes with the heel of her hand. You froze, staring at her in the mirror but she didn’t seem to notice your presence.
When she finally lowered her hands and took a deep breath, she saw you and froze.
For a moment, you both only stared at each other and then – you coughed. Awkwardly, you began to dry your hands.
“Are you okay?” you asked, tentative.
Sabrina stiffened. “I’m fine,” she muttered, walking to the sink.
You watched her wash her hands, struggling and failing to control her expression. Sabrina’s hair was a mess and you stared, wondering where she’d been. You hadn’t seen her since you’d entered the club, but had assumed she’d stayed on the second floor.
“Are you sure?” you pressed, remembering your night at the other club. “You know, you can –”
“Will you… just stop.” Sabrina closed her eyes. “Will you … stop pretending like we’re friends, or something?”
Struck with disbelief, you could only stare. “I… are you serious?”
“Yes.”
“Wow.” You shook your head. “Just wow.”
Her lips tightened and finally, she whirled around. “What?” Sabrina demanded. “What is it?”
The look in her eyes was familiar. Her frustrated, angry look was mirrored in your expression, but you found you didn’t care. Sabrina was clearly going through something, but her rudeness to you was the final straw. Tired from Finn, Jimin and the constant pressure you were both under, something about Sabrina’s words made you break.
“Why are you always such a… such a bitch,” you blurted, hurling the word like a knife. “What did I ever do to you? Why do you always act like you hate me so much?”
Sabrina’s upper lip curled. “Why do you always think this is about you, Y/N? Maybe I just wanted one second of peace and instead, here you are. Like always.”
“Here I am, in the public restroom of a club we’re all at?”
“No. Here you are in my life,” she snapped, pushing herself from the sink. “People won’t talk to me? It’s because you’ve run your mouth about things you think I’ve done. I’m falling in the class ranks? It’s because you’re after my spot. Jimin doesn’t want to be my partner? It’s because of his feelings for you. I’m sick of turning around and always seeing you there!”
“Okay, but none of those things – I, Jimin doesn’t have feelings for me,” you sputtered.
Sabrina gave you a look. “Oh, please, Y/N.” Her laughter was harsh. “Why else would he turn me down?”
“Um, maybe because he’s a decent human being? Unlike yourself.”
“Great, yeah.” Sabrina glared. “Make me the bad guy again.”
“I’m not the one doing that,” you huffed. “You are. You want to blame me because no one wants to be your friend? Maybe try reaching out first. Maybe don’t talk shit about people behind their backs. And I’m improving because I’m taking extra lessons. No thanks to you, of course.”
“Don’t try and make me feel bad because I didn’t have time to give you lessons.”
“I’m not trying to make you feel bad. I’m trying to explain why I’m improving and you’re not.”
Sabrina bristled. “Are you saying I don’t work hard, too?”
“No.” Mirthless, you laughed. “I know you work hard – maybe even as hard as I do. But you know what the big difference is between you and me?” you said, drawing yourself to your full height.
Sabrina’s eyes glimmered while she stared you down. Still, she retained her aloofness when she said, “What? What’s the big secret?”
“You think everyone’s out to get you,” you said, stepping closer. “You think not asking for help makes you stronger, but it’s the exact opposite. At least I’ve improved since the start of the year. What have you done?”
Not waiting for an answer, you pushed past Sabrina and walked out the door.
Shoving it wide, you entered the hallway. Dance music flooded your senses and you winced, remembering where you were and what you’d been doing. Luckily, Jimin was nowhere in sight. He must not have seen where you’d disappeared to.
Shoulders slumping, you pulled out your phone and dialed a number. Walking to the front, you concentrated on breathing while you waited for them to pick up. Coming to a stop beside coat check, you didn’t leave the club – a lesson you’d learned the hard way.
Noelle answered on the third ring. “Babe?” she yelled, barely audible over the din. “What’s going on? Where are you?”
“Are you…” Closing your eyes, you paused. “Can we leave?”
Noelle paused, then muffled her phone with one hand. “Irene!” you heard her yell. “You good to get a ride home for these people? Okay, cool. Bye!” Her phone became un-muffled. “Where are you, babe?”
After explaining your location, you hung up and hugged yourself with both arms. Noelle burst into view a few moments later, scanning the crowd like a mom on a mission. When she saw you, she rushed over – and you promptly burst into tears.
“Oh, no!” Pulling you into a hug, Noelle began to rub your back. “No, no, babe! Don’t cry! What’s going on? Do I need to kick someone’s ass?”
Hearing Jimin’s words said by Noelle only made you cry harder. Wisely sensing this to be a problem not easily solved, Noelle continued rubbing your back while walking towards the exit.
The two of you went outside and, as luck would have it, saw a group of people arriving at the club. Noelle snagged their taxi, helping you in the backseat and giving the driver your address. As you settled against her, your head on her shoulder, Noelle kept rubbing your arm and waited for the tears to stop.
You weren’t really sure why you were crying.
Of course, Sabrina was terrible, as was the situation with Jimin, but it was more than that. Dancing with Jimin hadn’t caused problems in your relationship with Finn. There had been problems in your relationship Finn and so, feelings had crept in which led you to dance with Jimin.
More than that though, you couldn’t help but notice Noelle had come to your aid much faster than Finn ever had. Even Jimin had dropped everything when you asked, and he was someone you’d once called your enemy. Noelle had been having fun, but she’d cut her night short because you were upset. This knowledge crushed you and for the very first time, you realized your relationship with Finn might be unfixable.
Curled up on the backseat, you let yourself cry a bit more. You could be calm and rational in the morning, you decided but for now, you just felt defeated.
When you finally climbed into bed at your dorm at night, you looked at your phone and saw Finn still hadn’t texted.
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Author’s Note: Thank you for reading! 😊 New chapters of Raise the Barre are posted weekly; dates are listed on the series Master List. Requests for updates will be deleted.
RAISE THE BARRE MASTERLIST 
© kpopfanfictrash, 2020. Do not copy or repost without permission.
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wvrners-blog · 6 years
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*snoop dogg vc* greetings, loved ones! let’s take a journey!   ; )
alternatively: hello, my name is lea ( 19 | est | she/her ) and this is the one where i introduce you to my little raindrop droptop gumdrop son, WARNER CHOI !
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isn’t that ROSS BUTLER ? wait, that’s just WARNER. you can tell it’s him because of the WINTER GREEN TIC TACS & THE SCENT OF MAISON MARGIELA’S ‘JAZZ CLUB’, TOPPED OFF WITH A HONEY-DIPPED SMILE. he is the TWENTY THREE year old in the CHOI family. people say that he tends to be ALLUSIVE but i’ve seen them be PACIFIC. don’t tell anyone but i heard that he is hiding THAT HE HAS BEEN FORGING PRESCRIPTIONS AND SKIMMING MEDS FROM HIS WORKPLACE FOR BOTH HIMSELF AND HIS FAMILY. 
alright so just to preface: it is currently 12:15am, i have just returned from the gym, and therefore this intro will be an absolute trash amalgamation of headcanons & word vomit! but without further ado! let’s dive in!
warner is still v much a dude i’m figuring out, but a skeletal version of his BACKSTORY goes a little bit like this:
born & raised in sunray, but only for a short while. shortly after beginning preschool at 3 years old, it became clear to the choi parents that warner simply could not conform to a traditionally paced education system. the boy was far too perceptive for his age, to the point where he often shocked his educators and peers with unwarrantedly accurate analyses. ( for example, upon witnessing his preschool teacher discipline another child for the use of ‘vulgar language,’ three-year-old warner declared the following while holding his peanut butter & fluff sandwich with the crusts cut off: “  don’t think you should take anyone else’s words without asking. that’s an invasion of freedom. ” 
so warner spent his actual years of primary education off at a prestigious new york boarding school, cultivating his wits. i imagine this did do some damage to his bond with his siblings/parents, but not from his end. in general, warner is the epitome of warm and inviting. he loves completely, all or nothing, even from afar. but as the years progressed, it became much simpler for him to stay with friends during the holidays rather than fly back across the country for every official recess. so his visits to sunray grew slim, to the point where, by the time he entered high school, he only returned home for a few weeks each summer.
warner had always fostered a passion for science and along with a vivacious curiosity about his surrounding world. it was no shock to his academic mentors when he opted to apply to colleges in pursuit of a biology/pre-med degree. what was surprising was his choice of school -- rather than attend harvard, massachusetts institute of technology, or princeton ( his top three picks, all of which he was accepted to ), warner chose to attend arizona state university. though the choi family didn’t need to save the money, warner felt self-imposed pressure to be closer to his family, to make up for the colossal amount of time he spent away. while attending college, he supplemented his classes and expedited his dual degree by working as an EMT with the ASU emergency medical services. it was through this job that he met chase rutherford, the man who would later become his boyfriend -- and current fiancé.
warner has never been closeted. not really. being away for primary/secondary school and living on-campus at ASU helped him kind of just... exist happily without his parents knowing? but as his visits with the family grew more frequent given his collegiate location in state, it was only natural that eventually his parents put two-and-two together. and while they weren’t exactly unsupportive, there was a certain element of disappointment evident from his father. warner did a pretty adequate job of subduing his response to his father’s reaction, channeling his emotions into furthering himself in the medical field. pushing himself to make his father proud again.
( tw: death, grief ) currently, he works as a pediatric oncological nurse, which might perhaps aid in mending his relationship with his father. if, of course, his father were alive to see it. warner was only promoted to this position about three months ago -- his father died several weeks shy of witnessing his son become anything more than a standard physician’s assistant. knowing this absolutely haunts warner, but he refuses to talk about it. and the same goes for the tragic, sudden nature of his father’s death -- as well as the unsolved nature of the crime.
( tw: drug abuse, addictive behavior ) following his father’s death, the choi family has been in shambles. and with nothing being done to catch the person who stole away their patriarch’s life? it only seems natural that the crew would turn to... external... means of self-medicating. at the first sign of trouble, warner felt compelled to put an end to it, stage an intervention. but he knew what it was like, living in pain, and denying his family the right to feel better. the right not to feel at all. against his better judgment, he began forging painkiller prescriptions for his oncology patients and pocketing them once they were filled. it started as a covert operation for his mother and sister. 
the night of his father’s death when a little like this: “you had so much potential. wasted on such a small place in this world. call me when you have something notable to tell.” warner attempted to protest, to offer something more than himself, but he could only utter a stifled, “but -- you don’t understand --” before a loud bang sounded. a series of loud screeches, gasps, clattering as the other end of the line left his father’s hand. and then the line... went dead.
one afternoon, about a week into his medicinal misappropriation, the last words his father said to him on the night of his death wouldn’t relinquish their hold. the usual remedies didn’t work: deep breaths warranted no result. distracting himself with his work proved immaterial. there was no escape. so warner dipped into the bottle of pills he’d intended to hand over to his mother later that night. and he finally understood why she couldn’t possibly go without.
a valium here and there turned into a routine occurrence. a little something to get through work. a small dose to make the estate settlement more bearable. something to subdue the nightmares. everything became a valid reason for some supplementation by negation. maybe if he could shut off his mind, maybe if he could calm his nerves, maybe if he got high enough, it could all just... vanish. but sadly, that’s not how this kind of thing works. but no one’s really been able to tell warner that, since he’s kept this entire ordeal neatly tucked just below the surface. no one but his family knows -- because they’re all on the same derailing train.
some general notes about his PERSONALITY & QUIRKS :
he loves working with kids, and honestly, no better person could be chosen to work one-on-one every day with children diagnosed with terminal illnesses. warner has a certain serenity to his presence; he walks into a room and any remnants of strife vacate the premises. tension clears, like the atmosphere after fresh rain.
dude’s gotta wear scrubs at the hospital, but his personal sense of style consists mostly of fitted shirts, blazers, tailored pants, and wonderful statement shoes. this man knows how to dress.
the great british baking show is his latest inspiration. is he trying to make cupcakes right now? maybe. is he accidentally using baking powder instead of baking soda? uhm. oh. whoops.
honestly how did he survive going to school on the east coast? this dude is... such sunshine? so arizona? sees the best in everyone, refuses to be unkind even to the assholes of this universe. his version of an ill-wish goes a little something like: “y’know, i really hope they freak out about losing their keys only to then find them in their pocket.”
america runs on dunkin’ and warner runs on caffeine !! definitely more of a tea than a coffee fella, but he’ll take whatever he can get before/during/after a crazy shift.
winter green tic tacs have been his favorite thing since the third grade. hey. did you know if you chomp on them really hard in the dark with your mouth open, they’ll flash? no! seriously! you don’t believe me? hold on -- grab the lights. he’s done that to everyone he’s ever met/will continue to meet.
will NOT talk about his own feelings !!  he is an expert side-stepper, and he’ll find a way to swerve and avoid being the topic of discussion by spinning the concerns back onto you. call him on it, or don’t. he’ll still try to deflect.
lowkey sings? but only in the shower, in the car, or to people who ask nicely. or get him drunk. either or.
oh my god, he’s a tall & muscular guy -- 6′3 to be exact -- but he is such a lightweight. two glasses of wine have him all giggly and snuggly. one shot of tequila turns him into an epic flirt.
warner spends a lot of his free time doing crosswords, playing sudoku, and reading academic journals. human encyclopedia at your service. need some fun facts for your next group setting? look no further -- warner has an arsenal of extra knowledge at the ready.
um?? so in love with chase??? it’s like. someone will say his name, or so much as mention something remotely related to him, and warner will turn into the mushiest, gushiest little sap. you’re wearing a white t-shirt, huh? that reminds him of the one time chase wore a white t-shirt -- and now he’s grinning and blushing like a fool.
alright it’s late and this got rambly, but yes!! pls plot with me? i promise i’m nice and i can offer you hypothetical cookies!! i probably won’t be on the dash until tomorrow night because i have some plans ( hooray social life?? emphasis on the question marks there ).
so yeah, shoot me an message on here or hit that mfing like and i’ll come to you! i am so heckin hyped to write with all of you! x
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weelittlewain · 4 years
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Good morning, Heartache
Some unknown date in September of 2019
On the train to my college at 7:02 am, nonstop to Maynooth. I think back to the other night with a man from Split.
I hear the sirens of a car or maybe a home. I remember she used to joke it was the theme song of Dublin and laugh. A burglary happens every half hour or so in Ireland.
A man from Split asks me what my dreams are. The Buddhists say the root of all suffering is desire. I want so many things. Some that definitely make me question my morality. I tell him I want to be a doctor or a PA and take care of people with drug addiction issues. Sometimes I feel like an imposter taking care of people who struggle with addiction. I look in the mirror and wonder if I am the person I want to be or need to be to even carry on most days.
I think about the nurses and doctors who joked about drug addict’s misfortunes. I took care of a man whose entire layer of skin had been taken away from this hand to his chest from infection. His drug of choice was intravenous. We spend the better part of an hour taking the bandages off and bandaging what we could. I see his muscles move without protection and blown away. The patient softly sobbed as we peeled away the soiled layers of bandages, debriding with saline flushes and wrapping. 
The doctor finally takes the bandages off of his chest and it was absolutely unreal. The doctor jokes, “Don’t do drugs kids.” I immediately get angry but I’ve never met this doctor before and I haven’t been on the unit long. I talk to the patient calmly and tell him he will be due for pain medication soon and hold his other hand when we are done for a moment. I take off my yellow gown designed to protect me from MRSA and I’m still enraged. As if someone would choose to have their arm mangled while this twat doctor pokes fun at them while they writhe in pain. It’s disgusting the stigma around drug addiction.
I tell him I want to dismantle the drug war and take care of people with drug addiction problems. To be a threat to the men in power. Sometimes I wonder if I’m still trying to save Tessa. If subconsciously I think if I save enough people she’ll come knocking on my door after visiting her Dutch family and we’ll catch up over a pint or coffee. She’s never coming back but hopefully one day I can save someone that means as much to someone and she means to me.
I take care of that patient for weeks and he was a coffee fiend. We all have our vices I suppose. I used one of my Starbucks pods and make him a nice ass coffee. He gives me a hug with the arm he has left, he is now an amputee. He is in good spirits and I tell him to take care of himself and to not let anyone make him feel inferior. He now wants to save people just like him and go back to school. I sincerely hope he does.
The rain pit patters on the sidewalk and I’m reminded how lovely it is to have company in this town. He is 22 and has the world on a string and is incredibly handsome. We enjoy a lovely dinner at a bar near Dicey’s. On the walk home with him I’m reminded of a night out a long time ago. 
We were both scared of each other and while trying to coordinate with other drunken friends she hails a taxi. She’s upset and I’m left with a kiss on the cheek. The brake lights fade and I hesitate and start to run after her but I’m too late. I smile and think about how different my life is now and how that moment, however it made me feel was fleeting. 
The chemical reaction of anger takes about 90 seconds from start to finish. After 90 seconds you are choosing to stay in that emotional loop. I’m not sure what the time limit is for sadness but every hopeless emotion I’ve felt in my life apart from the ones manufactures from my mental illness have been fleeting. I spent the better part of four years numbing those feelings which never seemed to subside. 
People always say life is so fleeting and to cherish the ones you love. What happens when you cherish someone so much it becomes painful? None of it matters anyway, I have a job to do. I want to change this little corner of the world and I cannot be bothered with trivial questions.
It’s still raining but not enough to hold an umbrella above our heads without seeming high maintenance. We finally make it back to our hostel in one piece and I’m grateful for one night of calm.
I think about Billie Holliday and how the man who started the drug war hated everything about her. She was black, a jazz singer and addicted to heroin. Harry Anslinger made it his life mission to dismantle her. He met with Judy Garland after finding out she was addicted to heroin and suggested that she take longer vacations in between her acting gigs. Because of Harry - Billy died being treated as a criminal handcuffed to her bed after they planted a dime of heroin in her hospital room. They took her mugshot, finger printed her and all while she went through withdrawal. Finally she succumbed to her cirrhosis while people protested outside saying, “Let Lady Live.”
I’m reminded of how many patients I’ve taken care of must have felt like her - with their arms (and sometimes legs) tied to the bed. Going through withdrawal alone, some with a tube down their throat, some with limbs missing from an accident and unable to keep their pain under control because of their past drug use.
I have to remind myself why I came here and how I want to change the world. I want to give these people a voice and have them understand they are not a lost cause.
When Harry Anslinger learned of Billie’s death he wrote with glee, “There would be no more Good Morning, Heartache.”
I hear another siren now sitting in this cafe in Maynooth. The chef laughs and asks if I want the usual - a vegetarian breakfast. I’ve only been to this café five times but I’m happy to have a new morning routine. No more coffee shops off of University Avenue for me and in a way I’m grateful for that.
I hope that one day, at least in some small way I’m able to make an impact. So there can be more Billies and more Tessas to bring love and light into the word. My 9 am lecture starts in half an hour, with a twinge in my heart it’s time to take on the world. Good morning, heartache.
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