rubberneck

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at [Link]

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Category: M/M
Fandom: 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Relationship: Jeon Jungkook/Kim Taehyung | V
Character: Original Characters
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - 1990s, Angst, Drug Use, Swearing, Frat Boy Kim
Taehyung | V, Bad Boy Jeon Jungkook, Eventual Smut, Switch Kim
Taehyung | V, Switch Jeon Jungkook, Slice of Life, Strangers to Lovers,
Neighbors, Summer Love, kinda slow burn but maybe not that slow,
Angst with a Happy Ending
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2024-12-07 Words: 17,355 Chapters: 1/4
 rubberneck
by ifyoudontlisten

Summary

Two months. Eight weeks living with his mom after years. Jungkook has to make sure not to
lose his fucking head.

Notes

inspired by the first half of the movie ‘disturbia’ (2007), though this story is just a slow, slice-
of-life summer drama.
thank you, bk, for your help and love. thank you, lis, for everything. love you both! any
grammar mistakes are mine. english is not my first language. hope someone out there likes
this <3

See the end of the work for more notes

 💽
I.

Jungkook throws the cigarette butt next to the police car in his mother’s driveway, then
swipes away the sweat on his brows.

Summer sucks.

He hates it.

“Thought your dad was the only one with money,” Kava says. She brushes something off her
dress. Jungkook’s sure they’re getting shorter every time he sees her. “This neighborhood’s
fancy. It reminds me of the one from that movie we rented.”

“It’s alright.”

“Much better than campus.”

Jungkook snorts. Anything is better than that shithole.

“Just call me when you’re alone, okay?” Kava bumps Jungkook’s elbow with hers. She’s
always cold. “I wanna see it.”

“What?” Fixing the strap of his duffel bag on his shoulder, Jungkook pulls a face. “That
plastic thing?”

Kava shoots him a glare. “You know Dunton’s cousin had one. He said they’re heavy.” She
scrunches her nose, leaning in. “Clunky.”

“Whatever.” He takes a step back, tries to kick the cigarette butt on the ground; some small
rocks scatter around instead. “Where is he, anyway?”

“At work.”

“On his birthday?”

“He had to train your replacement, big head.” Kava smiles, rubbing a finger up Jungkook’s
nose. He hates it when she’s touchy.

“Jungkook!”
As he looks up, he finds his mother standing by the front door, the sun on her face, aiming a
judgmental look his way.

“Duty calls.” Kava rests a hand on Jungkook’s chest and slaps him twice. “Put on the
webcam tonight.”

“If there’s any internet.”

“Hey—” Clutching the collar of his shirt, Kava stops him. “You look better.”

Jungkook’s lips pull into a grin. His right cheek doesn’t hurt anymore. Today it feels brand
new, as if Pauly hadn’t punched him at Bohlen’s party two weeks ago.

“How is she?” he asks, avoiding Kava’s eyes.

“Jungkook!” His mother is still shouting, like she was holding a megaphone. “I’m not gonna
call you again!”

She disappears inside the house, leaving the door open.

“She’s going home,” Kava says, letting go of Jungkook’s shirt. Her voice is a soft,
comforting whisper next, “She’ll be okay.”

“Yeah.”

Jungkook glances at the ground again, at his cigarette, the police car a green smudge, fading
away as he starts walking.
“This won’t hurt.” Malachy is kneeling next to the big couch in the living room, both hands
holding a black electronic monitoring bracelet near Jungkook’s leg. “It’ll be quick.”

“Come on.” Jungkook’s mother paces around. Her heels against the marble floor sound
expensive. “No need to baby him.”

“He’s a kid.”

“I’m twenty-two,” Jungkook says, perched on the middle cushion of his mother’s couch, not
looking at his case officer, though he appreciates his kindness.

“An adult.” His mother hoists her chin out. “A very immature one.”

Jungkook exhales, heart squeezing inside his chest without wanting to. He searches for his
bag, remembers he left it by the sliding door facing the backyard.

“Lift your jeans.” Malachy taps Jungkook’s ankle once, waits for him to expose his skin.
“It’ll be cold for a bit.”

Pulling up his pants, Jungkook rests back. “Perfect for this fuckass weather.”

His mom halts. “Is this a joke to you?” She crosses her arms in front of her chest. Her brown
suit doesn’t even wrinkle. “You’ve no idea the things I had to do, the people I had to talk to,
to keep you out of jail.”

“Please”—Jungkook feigns interest—“fill us in.”

Malachy straps the bracelet’s buckle around Jungkook’s right ankle, really fucking tight.
Probably to shut him up. He has a threatening look on his face that screams ‘Be careful.’

“Maybe I should call your dad,” Jungkook’s mom says, walking past the TV to the other
couch. She fixes her ponytail, her hair slicked all the way back. “Tell him to cut his
honeymoon short and come get you. I’m sure Anita won’t mind.”

“Don’t.” Jungkook runs his fingers through his hair. He winces at Malachy. “Does it have to
be this tight?”

“Sorry.” Malachy clicks the tracker into place. A small light on the top edge turns green, next
to it a red light that’s off. He hops up. “You’ll get used to it.” He moves to one of the chairs
and picks up a small book. “All the necessary info is here. The red light turns on whenever
you get too far from the monitoring base in your room. If that happens, you have twenty
seconds to get back, or else I’ll come running.”

“Can I shower with it?”

“It’s waterproof. You can go for a swim if you want.”

“Well.” Jungkook raises his eyebrows at his mom, adds with a trace of sarcasm, “Too bad
you didn’t have enough money for a swimming pool.”

“Oh, but we have one,” she says.

Surprised, Jungkook blinks, waiting to hear more.

“Our neighbors. We share the backyard with them, including a pool.”

“What?” Jungkook perks up, trying to peek through the glass door. “Why?”

“Ask them yourself if you’re so curious. C’mon. Up.”

He crawls to his feet. The ankle bracelet weighs more than he thought.

“So…” After zipping his bag, Malachy smooths down his shirt. “I’ll come here twice a week
until your sentence’s done. You gotta give us a urine sample every time so we can be sure
you’re clean.”

Jungkook arches an eyebrow. “Do you need one now?”

“We’re good.” The smirk on Malachy’s face is brief. “Gotta get back to the station.” His eyes
slide to where Jungkook’s mom is massaging her neck. “See you in a few days.”

She nods, walking towards him and resting a hand on his arm. “Thank you, Mal.”

“No problem.” The guy stays still. “We should, uh, grab coffee sometime. To go over that
case you told me. Whenever you’re free.”

“Good luck with that,” Jungkook says, snatching his bag before rushing to the stairs. “I heard
her schedule is pretty tight!”

“You, stop right there.” A finger points at him. His mother sounds serious now. “We need to
talk.”
The kitchen is bigger than the one in his mom’s old apartment. White. Really white. A shiny
porcelain floor leading to a backdoor that faces the green backyard.

Jungkook can see the pool from here.

“How much did you pay for this place?”

His mother clenches her jaw. She opens a cabinet and takes out a notepad. “You’re aware that
Malachy took your case because I asked him to, right?”

Jungkook keeps his eyes on the trees, the flowers and green grass, the small patio with some
lounge chairs, a sitting table and a grill.

“Jungkook?”

“Yeah.”

His mother jots some notes down. “Here’s the code for the house alarm. Our phone number.
Internet password. A list of furniture I bought that might arrive while I’m at work—” She
glances up at him, her entire face growing stiff. “Got it?”

Jungkook tries hard not to answer.

“Where were you?”

“Out.”

“You knew Mal was coming. Judge Kapoor told you last week.”

“Thought I forgot something at the dorm,” Jungkook lies.

“Bullshit.”

Whenever his mother curses in front of him, Jungkook’s brain suffers a glitch. It’s like going
back to the past, before he moved out of his parents’ house.
“I’m telling you the truth,” he says, meeting her eyes. The deep black in them makes it hard
to focus. “Then I bumped into Kav and lost track of time.”

“You can’t do that again.”

“I know.” He sneers, staring down at his leg. The monitor is giving him anxiety already. He
wants to tear it off.

“Be thankful,” his mother warns, tossing the pen. “Jail is ten times worse.”

Jungkook leans back on a counter, wets his lips. “I didn’t do it,” he says. “It wasn’t me.”

“Your friends said they saw you.”

“Pauly’s friends?” Jungkook straightens up. “They hate me, Mom. Of course they’d say
that.”

“Aren’t you and Pauly close?”

“Were. A long time ago.”

“Jungkook, please.” His mother winces. “Stop with the lies. You’re an adult now. Adults take
things seriously and—”

“God, Mom, you just can’t let it go, can you?” He walks closer to the door, hands folding into
fists. “You keep calling me a liar for something that happened ten years ago.”

“Wasn’t talking about that—”

“I didn’t do it.” He inhales, his chest rising with every breath he takes. “Not now. Not then.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“But I’m telling you the truth.”

“What’s done, it’s done.” His mother’s face hardens. An expression Jungkook has grown
used to. “I don’t want you hanging out with people like Pauly, nor thinking about alcohol or
drugs. I need you to do better. Be better.” She begs, “Please… I have to get back to work.”

“Okay.” He runs a hand up his face, hiding the roll of his eyes. “Whatever.”
Not bothering with a house tour, Jungkook goes straight to the second floor, noticing a black
board on one of the doors with his name.

He stares at it for a second, at his mother’s handwriting, then walks in.

The room has more space than the ones on campus, which is nice. It also has more light, a big
window filtering the sun, showing the cloudless sky outside. A wooden desk with a swivel
chair rests to the left, a single bed covered in a plain white quilt to the right.

Looks like something out of a minimalist architecture magazine, the weird ones Jungkook’s
father used to keep in his nightstand before he left Jungkook’s mom.

It’s actually not that bad. Still, Jungkook can’t help but snort. “Fucking hell.”

He flips the tracker manual and his duffel over the bed, dragging himself to one of the
windows and resting his face against the glass. Warmth spreads across his skin. The sun is
shining directly at him.

“Fuck.” Jungkook pulls his neck back and, with his forehead, he hits the window softly.
“Fuck.” Again. “Fuck.” And again.

All the other houses are the same, although the neighbor’s a bit bigger. Their part of the
backyard is bigger, too. Even the pool is larger from up here.

Going for a swim would be perfect now. A dream. But the last thing Jungkook wants is to
bump into people. He’s here to lay low, survive living with his mom after years of phone
calls, get the tracker off, and go back to his life.

It doesn’t sound that hard.

“Yeah,” he says to himself, his breath fogging the window, eyes closing shut.
Not hard at all.

II.

Five frozen veggie pizzas, three Pepsis, and some small boxes of berry juice fill the fridge.
Compared to the one in Jungkook’s dorm, this one could supply an entire floor of starving
students.

“The berry juice,” Kava says. Jungkook hears the smile in her voice. “What’s up with that?”

He presses the phone to his ear, holds it with his shoulder while he takes one of the pizzas out
and figures out how to turn on the oven. “I used to drink it when I was a kid.”

“But you don’t like berries now.”

“Whatever.”

“Whatever,” Kava imitates him. “Last year it was ‘anyway.’ After that, ‘anyhow.’ Now’s
‘whatever.’ What’s it gonna be next month, uh?”

“I’ll start saying ‘fuck you.’ How’s that?”

Kava barks out a laugh. It makes Jungkook grin. “Sounds like Dunton.”

“Yeah… How is he?”

“Call him. He’ll probably answer. His bike’s at the shop, so he’s not doing deliveries today.”

“I’ll try.”

“Put on the webcam later, please.”

“I’m not showing it to you,” Jungkook says, though he knows he will. “I don’t even know if
there’s a computer here.”

“Your mom’s a lawyer. Those people can’t live without one.”

Jungkook frowns. “What are you talking about? They definitely can.”

“Just call Dun and show me the thing.”

“Why do you wanna see it so bad?”

Kava holds her breath, though Jungkook can still hear her. It feels as if she were standing
right next to him.

“Kav?”

“I made a bet.”

“What?” Jungkook laughs, finding a sheet pan behind some pots.

“With Dun. We bet that you’d get one of those ugly trackers the size of a public phone.”

Jungkook casts a look at his foot. “It’s not that big.”

“I have to be the one to confirm that.”

“Right.” Tossing the pan on the counter, Jungkook looks out the window, sees the moon
shining on the pool. “You two are the worst.”

“Find a comp—”

He ends the call, pressing the handset to his chin, thinking.

A light flickers to his left, on the other side of the backyard near the neighbor’s house. Soon
after, it’s gone.

Jungkook focuses on the phone again and dials a new number.

“Hey, hello. Thanks for reaching Jupiter’s. What can I do for you?”

“A bet?”
The line turns silent, only voices and shoes scraping the floor serve as background noise.
Then, a chuckle. “Man.”

“Happy birthday.”

“Thanks.”

Jungkook rests back against the sink. “So, a bet with Kav.”

“Just for fun.”

“How much?”

Dunton says nothing.

“C’mon.”

A sigh. “Thirty.”

Jungkook pushes his tongue against his cheek, smiling. “That’s two whole shifts.”

“I know. That’s why I need to win this.”

“Dee, that better be a customer on the phone!”

After a groan, Dunton lowers his voice. “Are you gonna order something?”

“Nah.” Jungkook squats down to put the pizza in the oven, standing up and closing it shut
with his foot. “Hey, uh”—the cord of the phone stretches out—“sorry you had to take over
my shifts and train the newbie.”

“No big deal.”

“You can come over whenever you want,” he says. “Kav has my address.”

“Sure.” Dunton clears his throat. “Anything else?”

“I’ll get a burger next time. As long as you’re the delivery guy.”

The laugh Dunton lets out is Jungkook’s favorite one. “Fuck you.”
One last slice of pizza on a plate shares the coffee table with some newspapers and
magazines.

Jungkook’s laying on the couch, eyeing the TV guide as a movie he’s never seen plays, the
only light in the room coming from the screen.

When the doorbell rings, Jungkook’s attention falters.

At first, he thinks he imagines it. But then the thing shrills again.

Jungkook sits up, leaving the TV guide on the cushion next to him. “Who is it?”

A third ring comes.

Slowly, Jungkook approaches the door.

“It’s me,” someone says.

He hates that he recognizes the voice so easily.

“Hey.” Pauly’s standing on the doorstep, hands in the pockets of his varsity jacket, shoulders
hunched. He looks the same as all the times he sneaked into Jungkook’s dorm after a game.
“Got your note.”

Jungkook searches the neighborhood.

“I’m alone,” Pauly says. He stares at Jungkook with something different on his face. His
blond hair is a mess. “I’m sorry, Jeon. I— I didn’t mean to do it.”

“What?” Jungkook opens the door wider. “Punch me in the face?”

Pauly’s lips pull up. “Kiss you.” He rubs a hand down his neck. “I shouldn’t have done it.”
“Thought it didn’t matter anymore.”

“It doesn’t.” Pauly takes a step forward, resting his fingers on the door.

The silence that forms next is charged with things that make Jungkook’s stomach churn.
“Why are you here?”

“Your note—”

“It wasn’t an invitation.”

Pauly snorts, drops his chin, eyes on Jungkook. “You sure?”

Jungkook can smell his perfume and the beer in his breath. “No,” he says. He can’t keep
holding it anymore. “I didn’t do it, P.”

“I know.”

“Then why—?” He straightens up, releasing the doorknob and crossing his arms in front of
his chest. “Why did your friends say—?”

“Can we talk inside?” Pauly asks, wetting his lips. “I need to tell you something.”

Jungkook’s throat is dry. He tries to swallow as he gives Pauly space, letting him in. When he
shuts the door, he leans his back against it and waits.

“Esre’s going home,” Pauly says. “She’s okay. She just needs some rest.”

“You didn’t break up with her.” A statement. Not a question. It’s obvious, but Jungkook
wants to know.

“I tried.” Pauly shakes his head. “I swear I did.” He steps closer, lifting his fingers to the
collar of Jungkook’s shirt. “I’ll do it soon.”

Pauly’s thumb brushes Jungkook’s skin. Whispering, Jungkook closes his eyes, “We can’t
keep doing this.”

“I know. I know.” A hand touches his face, cups his cheek. “I’m sorry.” Rough lips land on
the corner of his mouth.

As always, Jungkook gives in. All of him.

It’s a desperate kiss, toeing the line of demanding. Resentful. Jungkook doesn’t know why.
He’s always thinking why, but he can’t figure it out.

“I know it wasn’t you,” Pauly says, kissing Jungkook’s chin next, brushing his lips down his
neck.

Jungkook opens his eyes. The glow of the TV flickers blue and white, shining on the walls,
on the sliding door, showing the backyard. “I swear I didn’t give it to her.”
Pauly nods, brushing his hands under Jungkook’s shirt. “I believe you.” He joins their lips
together. Their tongues. Even their hips touch.

Jungkook’s dick hardens with every new kiss, pressing against Pauly’s groin. He can’t fight
this weird pull he feels. He’s not even sure he wants to.

“Pauly, I—”

A knock on the glass door startles them, breaks them apart. Opening his eyes, Jungkook sees
a bright light. Then, a second knock follows.

“Who’s that?” Pauly tries to hide.

Jungkook marches past the couch to the patio door, opening it as he frowns. “The fuck do
you want?”

“Easy.” A man is holding a flashlight, one hand in the air. “I live next door. My power’s off,
and I thought you guys would have an issue with that, too.” He looks between Jungkook and
Pauly, who starts backing away. “Everything okay?”

“We’re fine,” Jungkook says, gripping the handle and pushing the door shut. The guy lifts his
eyebrows at him, a stunned expression covering his face. “Check your panel or something.”

When Jungkook turns around, he’s alone.

The living room is empty, the TV still on, the same movie playing in the background. As he
moves to the entrance, he finds the door wide open, a warm breeze sneaking in, the
neighborhood outside a dark, deserted street.

Pauly’s gone.

As always.
Sleeping is almost impossible with the tracker on.

Jungkook wakes up multiple times during the night. The next morning, he’s sweating and in
pain. Red marks smear his skin around his ankle, pounding as if his heart was right there.

He wants to get rid of this thing. Cut his leg off.

All the drawers of the desk are empty, so he searches in his bag. He finds the metallic ruler
his dad gave him for his Technical Drawing exam, the one he still keeps for good luck.
Jungkook tries to push the tracker off his ankle with it, putting pressure on it. But it doesn’t
work.

He hurls the ruler against the wall, pacing the room. Outside, the sun’s up.

What time is it?

Rotting in bed all day sounds good. There’s nothing else for him to do, anyway. No uni. No
plans. No job.

He’s fucked.

“Did something happen?”

Feet move against rug down the hall, growing closer. Apart from his mom’s voice, Jungkook
hears a guy.

“No, everything was okay.”

Jungkook forgets to put on a t-shirt, tip-toeing to the door.

His mother laughs, which is a weird thing to hear. “Thank you,” she says. “For doing this.”

When Jungkook tugs the doorknob, a screech fills the entire floor. The guy spins around,
eyebrows going up as their gazes meet.

It’s the same person that interrupted him and Pauly.

“Jungkook.” His mom hands the guy a drill and frowns at her son. “You’re up.”
Jungkook stares at them, blinks.

“This is our neighbor, Taehyung.” His mother gestures at them both. “Taehyung, this is my
son, Jungkook. He’s— Well, you’ll get to know him.”

Taehyung pulls out his free hand. “Nice to see you again.”

Jungkook’s stomach flips.

“You’ve met?” his mother acts surprised.

Taehyung studies Jungkook up and down, not caring if he’s obvious about it. “Yesterday.”
His expression changes when he notices Jungkook’s monitor on his lower leg.

“Yeah.” Jungkook shakes the guy’s hand, notices his fingers are long and soft, almost
delicate, but his handshake is strong, making Jungkook hesitate. “Never got to thank you for
getting the power back on.”

Taehyung’s attention is back on Jungkook’s face, confusion flashing in his eyes.

Jungkook’s mom asks, “What happened last night?”

“I”—Jungkook rubs his hand on his pajama shorts, wishing they had pockets—“was
watching TV downstairs when the power cut off. Taehyung here, he helped me fix it.”

After a long stare, Taehyung nods. “That’s true,” he says. His voice is deep. Jungkook’s hair
on the back of his neck stands on end.

“Then what do you need that for?”

Taehyung glances down at the drill in his hand. “Oh, it seems I did a bad job at my place.”

Jungkook’s mother shoots her son a disapproving look. “I’d tell you to go help him but—”

“Mom.”

“Well.” Taehyung must’ve felt the change in the air. “It was nice to see you,” he says. “I’ll be
at home if you need me.”

“Are your parents around?” Jungkook’s mom asks.

“They’re traveling.” Taehyung glances at Jungkook. “Got the house all to myself.”

“Gonna be the responsible adult here and tell you not to throw anymore parties.”

“You know I won’t.” Gesturing at the drill, Taehyung smiles.

Jungkook sees him walk across the hall, his loose t-shirt falling on his broad shoulders, his
swim shorts creasing around his ass as he reaches the stairs, his hair moving with every step
he takes.
“I spend most nights at the firm,” Jungkook’s mom says. “Don’t want you partying when I’m
not here.”

“These goes my summer dream.” Jungkook puts up his hands, leaning against the door
frame. “What am I allowed to do, then?”

“I don’t know, Jungkook. Read a book. Draw. Write. Play Solitaire on the computer. Talk on
the phone. Simple things that do not involve you getting in trouble.”

Jungkook scoffs, pressing the heel of his palms over his eyes. The sliding door downstairs
shuts, giving way to silence.

“Why are you up so early?”

Breathing in, Jungkook drops his arms, thinks about locking himself in his room for the rest
of the day. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Are you on drugs?”

He frowns. “No.”

His mother wets her lips, stepping back. “I’ll try to be home for dinner.”
Two hours doing nothing in his room are enough for Jungkook to start pulling his hair off.

He enters the kitchen, pours himself Pepsi in a glass. Outside, he notices a small shed against
one of the walls. A storage unit.

It’s open. Some screwdrivers, wood, a lawn mower, and buckets of paint lie there. The first
thing that pops into Jungkook’s head is worth a shot.

“One, two, three…” he counts as he walks from the front door to the street. “Eight, nine,
ten…”

When he stands in the middle of the road, the light on the tracker flashes red. He walks
backwards until the light turns green, by the edge of his mother’s driveway. There, in a
square piece of grass by his feet, he buries a wooden stick marked with yellow paint.

He does the same thing to his left, then to the right, walking from the front door until he
bumps into a neighbor’s wall, the light pulsing red. He stabs the ground with more sticks and
gets back.

Next, the backyard.

From the sliding door, Jungkook counts his steps.

He realizes the swimming pool is closer than he thought. Soon, he passes the patio with the
chairs, continues up to Taehyung’s house.

The light changes when Jungkook’s one foot away from the back door.

He stands there, peeking through the glass. The place is bigger than his mom’s. Way bigger.

As he buries the last stick on the ground, the yellow tip standing out against the green,
Jungkook wonders about Taehyung. How old is he? Does he live with his parents? What does
he do in his free time?

Jungkook stops himself. He hates being curious. Wanting to know too much.

After one more glance, he walks back.

On the couch, alone, with the TV guide open to his right, Jungkook eats frozen pizza again.
His mom’s working late. Compared to the time they lived together, not much has changed.

And just like the other night, the doorbell rings.

This time, it isn’t Pauly.

“Having fun?” Malachy asks, stealing glances around the living room. Tonight, he’s not
dressed as a cop. He looks like he’s on his way home after stopping at a drive-in.

“Kinda.” Jungkook scratches his forehead, closing the door as he watches Malachy search for
something. “My mom’s not here.”

“I came because the light turned red several times today.” Malachy stops next to a bookcase,
brushing his fingers over the wood. “Have you been inside all day?”

“Yeah, look, I was just”—Jungkook sighs—“figuring out how far I could go with this shit
on.” He gestures down at his ankle, says, “Wanted to get an idea.”

“You know what I have to do if I get notified about it, right?”

Jungkook stays silent.

“You haven’t read the rules,” Malachy says. Disappointment laces his voice, though he’s
smiling.

“I didn’t leave the house for long. I swear. Not even ten seconds each time—”

“But it could’ve happened.” Fixing his jacket, Malachy smirks, approaching Jungkook. “And
I could’ve been caught up in something, unable to come. Forced to call someone else to do
this job.” Any traces of humor fall from his face. “Don’t do it again.”

After a nod, Jungkook holds all the air in his lungs, mixed with the ‘thank you’ words he
cannot say. “I won’t.”

Concern flashes in Malachy’s eyes for a brief second. “Your mom cares about you. She
doesn’t want those cops who won’t hesitate to put you in jail coming here.” He sighs. “It isn’t
worth it.”

“I know.”

Malachy squints, pushing his hands inside the pockets of his pants. He smells like faux
leather. “Do you?”

Saturday morning. The first one Jungkook doesn’t have to spend glued to the phone at his
job.

If he could, he’d be on campus right now, smoking by the angel statue behind the Arts
building, planning to go out with Kav.

Instead, he’s lying in bed—third day in a row—throwing the neon stress ball one of his old
roommates gave him.

It’s too silent around here. Unfortunately, Dunton has Jungkook’s Discman, and by the lack
of radios in the house it seems his mother hates music.

He groans.

Flinging the ball, he sits up, scanning every corner of the room. He grabs a clean shirt from
his bag, changing into his denim shorts before walking out.
Five bedrooms make up the second floor, two occupied by Jungkook and his mom. The other
three are almost empty, except for one. An office, with a large desk and a computer next to a
cordless phone. Paintings hanging on the walls, barely filled with colors.

No radio. No webcam.

“Hello, big head.” Kava sounds like she’s just waking up.

Standing next to the only window, Jungkook looks down at the backyard. The swimming
pool glistens. “Did you go out last night?”

“Yeah. Jiangsu’s house. He’s moving abroad.”

Jungkook holds the phone with his other hand. “Why?”

“His father got a new job.”

His mind writes a mental note to call his dad. “Listen, I need help.”

“What’s up?”

“Found my mom’s computer,” Jungkook says, hearing Kava squeal on the other line. “No
webcam, though.”

“I’ll get you one.”

“Can you also get me my Discman from Dun’s?”

“Sure.”

Something moves near the neighbor’s back door. Someone.

Taehyung.

“Did you talk to him?”

A little lost, Jungkook focuses on the conversation again. “What?”

“Dunton,” Kava says. She yawns.

“The other night. Yeah.”

With the same swim shorts from yesterday, a pair of sunglasses, and a towel hanging from his
shoulder, Taehyung struts to the pool. He sits down on the grass, taking out a bottle of
sunscreen.

“How is he?”

“Good.”

Kava chuckles. “Always forget how much you love to talk.”

A girl in a bikini comes out of the house too, running to where Taehyung’s sitting, shoving
herself onto him. They touch and joke about something, and Jungkook is suddenly ten times
more interested.

“What time can you be here?” he asks.

“You want me to go now?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” It sounds like Kava is getting out of bed. “ Uh, lemme shower first.”

Outside, under the sun, the girl puts a small radio on the ground, turns it on. A Pop song
plays.

Not sure why, Jungkook keeps his eyes on them, waiting for a kiss.

“Jungkook?”

“Yeah?”

“I asked you if you wanted something else. Chips. Beer.”

Jungkook swallows down, focused on the way the girl spreads sunscreen on Taehyung’s
back.

Taehyung’s smiling.

“Bring beer.”
“You’ve no idea how many people would love to trade places with you.”

Jungkook winces, nudging Kava’s arm to shut her up. She loses her balance, laughing as she
grips Jungkook’s shirt. They’re sitting on the roof outside Jungkook’s window, sharing a can
of beer.

Kava’s idea.

“If I fall, it’s gonna be your fault,” she says, even though the roof is not as tall as Jungkook
thought it’d be. “You’re gonna make me land on top of that girl and knock her out.”

Jungkook laughs, watches how Taehyung’s friend sunbathes down next to the pool. She can
probably hear them. “I’ll throw you myself.”

“You wouldn’t.” Kava kicks Jungkook’s foot with her own, quickly lowering her voice.
“Who is she, by the way? Looks like a model.”

Jungkook has no fucking clue. “Why you care?”

“‘Cause she’s hot. All your neighbors are.”

“I’m sure she doesn’t live here.”

“Your neighbor’s girlfriend, then?” Kava tilts her head, sighs. “They look like a couple. The
frat boy with the sorority girl.”

Rolling his eyes, Jungkook fans himself with the collar of his shirt. The only bad thing about
sitting on the roof is the heat. He’s sweating all over.

“Anyway.” Kava takes the can from him and drinks. “This house is really cool. Your mom’s
never around. You got a swimming pool. A good-looking neighbor. What else do you want?”

“I don’t know, maybe”—Jungkook flicks his wrists—“not having this stupid thing on my
leg?”

“Details.” Kava lifts an eyebrow, and Jungkook knows what’s coming. “So you agree…
about the good-looking neighbor thing.”

A smile creeps onto Jungkook’s face. He doesn’t bother to hide it. “Whatever.”

“C’mon, Jungkook.” She hands him the can. “When was the last time you had fun?”
Jungkook pulls his legs to his chest, resting his arms on his knees, taking a swig from the
beer. His gaze stays on the sorority girl; Taehyung’s nowhere to be seen. “At Bohlen’s party.”

He feels Kava staring at him from the corner of his eye.

“I’m sorry,” she says. The rap song coming from the radio strips the moment of all heavy
things. “She’s home, by the way.”

Jungkook’s ribs tighten. “What have you heard?”

“That she won’t miss uni this year.”

“And Pauly?”

“Apparently he’s glued to her. Doesn’t leave her side.” Kava threads her fingers through her
black hair. “They’re cute.”

Two guys rush out of Taehyung’s house, bare-chested, dressed in swimming trunks, bottles of
alcohol in their arms. Taehyung walks behind them, his sunglasses on the back of his head, a
big smile stretching his lips.

He notices Jungkook almost instantly, waving a hand.

“Not only is your neighbor and his girlfriend hot”—Kava waves back—“but his frat buddies
are hot, too? You gotta introduce us.”

Jungkook snorts, giving Kava the beer. “Didn’t know you liked frat boys,” he mutters,
watching Taehyung jump into the pool and shout as soon as he gets out.

“Sometimes ,” Kava says, dragging the ‘s.’ “I know you hate them, but during summer
they’re my type, okay? Don’t judge me.”

“Okay.” Jungkook laughs, shaking his head. He watches Taehyung and his friends fight in the
pool, the sorority girl opening a bottle of what seems to be rum. “Did I tell you that I have to
give my urine twice a week to the cops?”

“No way.” Kava looks genuinely surprised. “And you asked me to bring you beer? Screw
you, big head. It won’t be my fault if you go to prison.”

“I’m just taking a sip.” He tilts his head, smiles. “Now I’m kinda hungry.”

“God, me too.” Kava stands up, the wind brushing her skirt. She drinks what’s left of the beer
and lifts her arms into the sky. “Burger time!”
Warm air sneaks into the kitchen when Jungkook opens the windows. The loud music does
too, mixed with Taehyung’s laugh.

Jungkook finds himself constantly eyeing the pool. “He’s gonna be pissed,” he says, trying to
focus on something else.

“Why?” Kava takes a Pepsi out of the fridge, puts it on the counter. “I got him his favorite
burger.”

“Dun doesn’t like doing deliveries.”

“Then why work there?”

The faint hissing noise from the plastic bottle is followed by Taehyung’s voice.

“Hey.” He leans on the windowpane, smiling with his shades on.

Jungkook clears his throat, opening a cupboard and grabbing a glass. “Hi.”

Kava’s face lights up. “Hello, neighbor.”

“Kav.” Jungkook winces.

“What?”

“Nice to meet you.” Taehyung stretches out his arm, biceps clenching. “I’m Taehyung.”

“Kava here. Jungkook’s best friend.”

“Oh.” Taehyung’s eyebrows shoot up. “Cool.” His eyes land on Jungkook, catching him
staring. “We wanna use the grill but can’t find any charcoal. Your mom usually keeps a small
bag here.”

Jungkook lifts an eyebrow at him.

“In the pantry,” Taehyung says, “over there.”

Looking at Kava first, Jungkook moves to a large white door. He takes a peek inside, inspects
it, only finding condiments, bags of rice, cereal, and other things.

“Wait, can I?” Taehyung walks from the window to the open door, entering the kitchen. He
smells like coconut. “I’ve sometimes found it down next to the paper towels.”

Not knowing why, the comment makes the pit of Jungkook’s stomach twist.

Kava licks her bottom lip, gnaws at it, visibly forcing herself not to smile. When the doorbell
rings, she shouts, “I’ll get it!”

Jungkook throws her a glare as she leaves.

“Bingo.” Taehyung lifts the bag of charcoal in the air, waves it from side to side. “Thanks.”

“Man, why do you do this to me?”

Jungkook turns around, sees Dunton strutting into the kitchen with a paper bag, dressed in his
Jupiter’s uniform, dark circles under his eyes. His long hair is tied in a ponytail.

“We just wanted to see you,” Kava says. “Gimme.” She takes the bag and approaches the
counter where the bottle of Pepsi waits. “One of the burgers is yours.”

Jungkook opens his palms. “It wasn’t my idea.”

“Okay, so.” Taehyung gestures over his shoulder. “I’ll leave you guys alone.” He walks out
towards the pool, his friends listening to a different song and cracking jokes.

Dunton looks surprised. “You know who that is?”

Shrugging, Jungkook doesn’t bother to reply.

“That’s Kim Taehyung,” Dunton says, taking off his cap. He rubs a hand on his forehead as
he keeps his gaze on Jungkook.

“Who’s that?” Kava asks, searching for something in the cabinets. “Where can I find flat
dishes here?”

Jungkook ignores her. “Kim Taehyung?”

“Last year’s star player of the Pinnacles. Y’know, our uni’s biggest rivals. He’s on his way to
become a national prodigy.”
“Oh my god.” Kava gasps, stopping midway to a counter with three plates in her hands.
“That's why he looked so familiar.”

“I’ve never seen him before,” Jungkook says.

Kava lifts an eyebrow at him, serving one burger on each plate. “Have you ever been to a
game?”

“Yeah. Once.”

Dunton remains silent. Jungkook knows why.

“Whatever.” He rests both hands on a countertop, leaning in. “He’s my mom’s neighbor.”

“Right, right. Nice house.” Dunton peers around as Kava serves their food. “We don’t do
deliveries in this neighborhood, but Vince told me the tip was gonna be good.”

“I said that.” Kava peeks at Jungkook. “Give him his tip.”

Jungkook snorts, patting his back pockets. “My wallet’s upstairs.”

“Go get it.”

“I’ll go with you,” Dunton says. “You can show me the rest of the house.”

Another song plays on the radio outside. An R&B one. Taehyung and his friends are singing
out loud.

Jungkook nods. “Okay.”

His new room is depressing.

Jungkook’s embarrassed for Dunton to see it. Completely empty. Dry. Nothing that screams
Jungkook in any way or form, except for his clothes on the floor.

“This is like a hotel room,” Dunton says. He stands next to the door, eyes roaming the place.
“Are you gonna put up some posters on the walls?”

“What for?” Jungkook opens his drawer, pulling his wallet out. The silence is thick, a weird
thing for Dunton and him. “I’ll be gone when summer’s over.”

Dunton accepts the cash, looking at it. “How does it feel?” he asks. “To live in a house like
this?”

“Can’t complain.” Though Jungkook misses the noise at the dorm. His small group of
friends. The hangouts. Feeling like he’s part of something. “I’m starting to miss going to
class,” he jokes.

Dunton smiles, folding the money and shoving it in the pocket of his pants. “It’s serious,
then.”

“Yeah.” Jungkook’s grin fades. “Hey—” He’s not sure if he should do it, but he asks. “Are
we okay?”

“Of course.” Dunton’s shoulders move back. “Why?”

“We haven’t talked much lately.”

He chuckles. It’s a nervous sound. “Everything’s fine.”

“Is it?”

They stare at each other for a while, until Dunton pulls his gaze away.

“I don’t know, it’s— weird.” He gives Jungkook a once-over. “The thing at Bohlen’s. You
and Pauly. I still can’t wrap my head around it.”

“Have you told someone?”

“No.” Dunton frowns, letting out a snort. “Hell, no.” His voice holds something that makes
Jungkook sad. “He’s a jackass.”

Jungkook’s lungs are too tight. “He is.”

“I told you not to go to that party, man. Pauly and his friends, they’re…” Eyes on Jungkook,
Dunton bites his bottom lip, thinking.

“We have history.”

He closes his eyes. “I know, but—” Relaxing his face, Dunton breathes out. “You deserve
better, man.”

Jungkook breaks eye contact, swallows, nods.

Sitting at the small kitchen table, Jungkook finishes his veggie burger.

At the sink, Kava rinses the dirty plates. Dunton is next to her, pouring Pepsi in his glass for a
third time. They bump their hips to the best of the song coming from the radio outside.

“These guys have good taste in music,” Kava says, smiling.

Jungkook pulls a face, playing with what’s left of his food. “If you like mainstream shit.”

“Who doesn’t?”
The voice comes from Jungkook’s right. His gaze lands on the window where Taehyung is
leaning on like he did earlier, now with the bag Jungkook lent him in his hand, half-full.

“Thanks again.”

Kava dries her palms on her skirt before taking it. “No problem, neighbor.”

Taehyung grins, turning to Jungkook.

“Hey, is there—?” Kava glances around. “Is there any room out there for three really cool
people?”

The pit of Jungkook’s stomach churns. “Kav.”

“Don’t count me in,” Dunton says, as he finishes his drink. “Work’s calling. You have fun,
though.”

“Yeah.” Taehyung eyes Jungkook. He makes a ‘Sounds good’ face, arching his brows.
“You’re invited if you wanna join. It’s a small thing.”

“I can’t go outside,” he lies, gesturing at the tracker on his leg.

The corner of Taehyung’s lips pulls up. “What are those sticks with yellow paint for, then?”

Jungkook blinks. Did he see him the other day? Watch him put those things in the grass?

He keeps his face flat. “I’ll pass.”

“Great,” Kava states, clearly disappointed.

“Well, next time.” Taehyung pats the windowsill, fingers gripping the wood as he hangs back
and swings from side to side. The muscles on his arms clench. A smile never leaves his face.
“See you around.”

When Taehyung’s gone, Dunton whistles. “Man, he’s hot.”

“Why are you like this?” Kava glares at Jungkook, rests a fist on her hip, the frown on her
forehead louder than her tone.

“I’m not in the mood. Sue me.” Grabbing his plate, Jungkook approaches the sink, walking
past Kava who rolls her eyes at him.

“You’ll have to be, eventually. What else are you gonna do while being stuck here?”

“She’s right,” Dunton says, brushing his hands together.

Jungkook shrugs. “I just don’t like those people.”

“Who?”

“Frat guys,” he clarifies.

Kava scowls.

“C’mon...” Dunton shoots his eyebrows up, wetting his lips. “You sure ‘bout that?”

He can smell Jungkook’s bullshit kilometers away from here.

Jungkook is surprised Kava hasn’t.

Night comes, and only when the moon is high in the sky, hiding behind the house,
Taehyung’s friends leave.

Jungkook notices because he’s in his mother’s office, setting up the webcam Kava brought
him while the banter and music outside stop. The beep static sound coming from the dial-up
modem is the only noise in the room.

He squints through the window, sees the empty pool. The wrinkled towels sprawled on the
grass. The plastic cups. The used grill.

“My internet kinda sucks,” Kava says, dressed in her pajamas with a white towel wrapped
around her head. Her room is dark except for the orange lava lamp in the back.

“I can hear you well.”

“I won the bet, by the way. It’s big. The tracker.”

Jungkook rests his elbow on the desk, chin on his hand. He smirks. “Thought you meant
something else.”

That makes Kava fake puke. “Dear God, save me from my stupid friends. Why are you boys
always like that?”

“Like what?”

“You know what I mean.”

Downstairs, the front door slams shut. Jungkook glances back, listens to a pair of heels click-
clacking across the living room.

“What?”

“My mom’s here.”

Kava takes off the towel and uses it to dry her hair. “Fun’s over?”

“We never talk when she’s here.” Jungkook rubs a finger on the desk, the blue from the
computer screen casting shadows on his skin. “Bet she’ll go straight to bed.”

“Sad.”

“I’m used to it.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“Yeah?” He looks up, breathing in. “You know I hate to talk about it.”

“Such a… guy. Men never like to talk about their feelings.”

“Yeah, okay, Kav. Gotta go.”

“Where?” Kava feigns shock. Jungkook glares at her. “I’m sorry,” she says, though she’s
laughing. “I know it sucks.”

Jungkook wants to flip her off, yet he stops himself. “Thanks for the webcam.”

“Thank my dad and his obsession with buying things on sale. Hey, I might be busy with him
these next few days, but I’ll be here whenever you wanna chat, ‘kay?”

He puts on a smile, both sides of his lips pulling up, though he’s not really feeling it. “Okay.”

“Y’know” —Kava leans closer to the camera, her eyes a mix of dark and light brown pixels
— “things could be way worse.”

Jungkook bobs his head, running a hand down his chin. “I know.” He grabs the webcam,
looks at it instead of the screen. “Thanks for coming today, Kav.” He smiles like he means it
now. “It was nice.”
His mother’s scrubbing a countertop with force when Jungkook walks into the kitchen.

He puts a glass in the sink, flips up the tap. Water drips down as the noise mixes with the one
coming from the brush against granite.

“How was your day?” his mom asks.

Jungkook grinds his teeth as he thinks. “Good.”

“Was it fun?”

“Yeah.” He walks closer to the door.

“Did you have friends over?”

Jungkook turns around, not sure if he should lie or tell the truth. Is he allowed to invite his
friends? “Dunton and Kava showed up.”

“From university?”

He slips his hands inside the pockets of his jeans. Small talk is always weird, especially with
his mom. “They didn’t stay too long.”
“Good.” His mom squats down, opens a cabinet, getting a blue spray. “Your friends can visit
if they want. But, please, next time, make sure to keep things clean, okay?”

Jungkook pushes his tongue against his lip. “We washed the dishes.”

“But not the rest.” She sprays the countertops, grabs the brush again. “Would love to meet
them, by the way. It’s been a while since I met the people you hang out with.”

“They’re not bad people, Mom. If that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I just want to meet your friends.”

“Why?”

“Because.” She snorts. “I bet your dad does.”

Jungkook jerks his head back. “Why’d you care?”

“Am I wrong?”

“No,” Jungkook says, a little too hard. “He’s met them. And he likes them.”

The expression on Jungkook’s mom’s face changes. Her eyebrows drop. She angry-pouts.
“Such a cool dad.”

It’s like traveling back in time—Jungkook is a teenager again, hearing his mother bad-mouth
his father when he wasn’t around.

“He is.” Jungkook always feels the urge to defend him. “He visits me on campus. Invites me
to dinner at his place. He was supposed to take me with him on vacation this summer.”

“Oh, is that right?” His mother scrubs the countertop harder, moving the brush to the sides as
if there were grease stains there, hard to wipe. “And what type of excuse did he give you this
time, uh?”

“No excuse.”

“He lies all the time, honey. Where’d you think you got that from?”

“Wow.” Jungkook exhales through his mouth. “Good to know that’s how you feel about me.”

His mother stops. “Wait—”

“Whatever,” Jungkook says, storming out.

Sitting on the edge of the roof with his Discman, Jungkook listens to his Alice In Chains CD.
He has one headphone off his ear, just in case his mother pops up, wanting to argue some
more.

He hasn’t heard her since they talked. She’s probably asleep now. Still… Maybe she decides
to show up.

Jungkook thinks of ways to ignore her when he hears someone.

“Hi.”

He looks down, sees Taehyung standing in the middle of the backyard with a black plastic
bag in his hands, now wearing an MTV t-shirt.

“You like hanging out on the roof.”

Turning away, Jungkook pauses the song. He can hear the faint sound of cicadas from
somewhere. “Whatever.” He meets Taehyung’s gaze, wishing the roof was taller so there was
even more distance between them.

“I’ve never done it,” Taehyung says, picking up two plastic cups and shoving them inside the
black bag.

Wetting the corner of his mouth, Jungkook tilts his head. “Try it out, then.”

“I don’t know.” Standing straight, Taehyung looks back at his house, then at Jungkook again.
It’s weird—the attention. The way Taehyung's eyes look whenever they're on him. “Don’t see
the appeal.”
Jungkook watches him clean the table and chairs, snatch the beach towels and fold them.
“Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.” Taehyung squats down, grabs an empty bag of chips.

“Why do these two houses share a pool?”

Wrinkling the packaging, Taehyung gets to his feet, tossing it in the trash. “Honestly? I don’t
know. My dad bought them a long time ago so my aunt could live near us for a couple of
years. When she moved out, he started renting it.”

Jungkook frowns. He thought this house was his mom’s. That she bought it.

“Technically,” Taehyung says, “you’re sitting on my roof.”

Jungkook opens his mouth to reply, but stops himself.

“Hope it’s nice.” Taehyung ties the plastic bag and halts. “Can I ask you something now?”

Trailing his fingers up his arm, Jungkook nods. “Okay.” He waits for the ankle monitor
question; he can feel it.

“What are you listening to?”

That surprises him a little bit. “Here?” he asks, lifting his Discman in the air, his heartbeat
picking up. “Jar Of Flies.”

“By who?”

Of course, frat boys don’t know about grunge. “Alice In Chains.”

“Oh, I have a friend who likes that band.”

“Yeah?”

Taehyung gives him a nod. “He’s always wearing black or white clothes, piercings all over
his face, tattoos on both arms. He hates sports.”

“And you’re friends with him?”

“Best friends.” Taehyung flaps the towels on his shoulder. “Why? You thought someone like
me couldn’t hang out with someone like you?”

Jungkook winces at that. “Who said I’m like that?

“You like to wear black.”

“And?” Suddenly, Jungkook’s annoyed. “You don’t know me.”

Taehyung tilts his head. “Who are you?”

“No one.” Jungkook internally cringes, dropping his chin as he swallows down a dry laugh.

Taehyung acts cool. Smooth. As if this wasn’t the stupidest conversation ever. “Any
piercings?”

“No,” Jungkook says, shifting in his spot. He starts dangling his legs as curiosity wins him
over. “You?”

“Wanna get one on my left nipple.” Taehyung smiles. He gets closer to Jungkook’s house,
looking up at him, the plastic bag hanging from his wrist. “Any tattoos?”

Jungkook wets his lips. “Not yet.”

“Me neither.” Now that they’re closer, Taehyung lowers his voice. “What about sports? Do
you like them?”

“Yes.”

Taehyung arches an eyebrow up. “That didn’t sound convincing.”

“Sometimes.”

“Most of the time?”

Jungkook puts on a fake thinking face, then drops it. “Nah.”

“Okay.” Amusement flashes in Taehyung’s eyes. “Aren’t you gonna ask me?”

Thanks to Dunton, Jungkook has an idea of Taehyung’s answer. But he asks anyway. “Do
you like sports?”

“Love ‘em. Grew up playing volleyball, tennis, boxing.”

“I like boxing.”

Taehyung half-grins. “You’re built. Do you go to the gym?”

“No. You?”

He shakes his head. “But I played rugby in uni until my last year.” For a second, Taehyung
hesitates. “That guy that was with you the other night… when the power was off… He plays
rugby, too.”

Jungkook’s heart flips. He feels like he’s been caught. As if Taehyung were pointing at him
with a flashlight all over again. “So?”

“I’ve played against him. Can I ask—? Are you two friends?”

A sneer slips out of Jungkook’s mouth. “Too many questions,” he says, crawling to his feet,
his headphones and Discman in his hand.
“Sorry.” Taehyung steps forward, rising his voice. “I always do that”

Jungkook opens his window, slides a leg inside. He’s about to say one final thing yet changes
his mind.

He lands on the wooden floor and doesn’t look back.

III.

Everything’s dark until it isn’t.

Suddenly, the loud noise of the curtains being pulled open echoes in Jungkook’s ears,
followed by a punch of sunlight on his face.

He groans.

“Morning,” his mother says. She’s blurry, but Jungkook can notice the smile on her voice.
“Time to work.”
“What—?” He sits up, sees her fully dressed in a navy blue suit, ready to go to work.

“Our conversation the other day got me thinking. If you’re gonna live here, you gotta do
some things for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Go take a shower first,” she says, smoothing her hair. She’s wearing it down today. “I’ll
wait.”

His mother’s office is chaotic. Several open folders clutter every corner, and her desk is
buried by papers and pens.

“Just finished a big case, and Julio, from Homicides, is coming over to pick up the evidence.
I need you to organize it.” His mother walks to the desk and grabs a card. “Here are the
names of the documents. Put them in one of those boxes there, write ‘Mr. Veras’ on the lid,
and give it to him.”

“Mom…” Jungkook blinks at the mess. “Why do you think I can do this?”

“You’re a responsible adult, right?” Sarcasm drips from her words, an annoying smile etched
to her lips. “And you have nothing else to do. Better to use your precious time for a good
cause. Which leads me to”—she puts a finger up, her expression morphing into a focused one
—“this next thing. Come on.”
Jungkook follows her downstairs, to the backyard. A nice summer day welcoming them. The
pool looks teasing.

“I need you to paint this wall,” his mom says, gesturing at one side of the house, next to the
shed. “Everything’s in there. Leave it open when you’re done. I also need you to mow and
water the lawn and clean the pool.”

A snort slips out of Jungkook’s mouth without him wanting to.

“Jungkook, this is the least you can do, don’t you think?”

Jungkook presses his teeth together, all the words he comes up with smashed between them.

His mother’s right. He knows it.

“Any questions?”

Resting his hands on his hips, shifting all of his weight to one leg, Jungkook shakes his head
‘no.’

Two hours. One hundred and twenty minutes, maybe more, sweating with the sun on him
while reading boring documents and putting them in a box.
If stuff like this is part of the job, then being a lawyer sucks.

The air inside the office is suffocating. Too warm. Jungkook pushes the window open, letting
a breeze sneak in. When he looks down, he catches sight of a man, standing by the sliding
door in the neighbor's house.

Taehyung’s dad?

A lady appears from behind and hugs him. They both look like Taehyung. Or Taehyung looks
like them. A mix of them. The lady’s nose. The man’s eyes.

A voice makes Jungkook flinch.

Taehyung’s standing on the roof with a grin, a backwards baseball cap, green shorts and a
plain white shirt. A volleyball in his hands. He throws it at the guy downstairs, both
chuckling when the ball lands in the pool.

Jungkook smiles, his heart skipping a beat when Taehyung jumps. He crashes against the
grass, clutching his right foot as if he were hurt. Taehyung’s parents are unphased, so he stops
moving and laughs.

“Prick,” Jungkook whispers, breathing again.

Taehyung’s a kid. How old is he? He’s just like the other frat boys Jungkook knows. The ones
who feed from people’s attention, like Pauly and Bohlen and the rest of their friends.

But there seems to be something different about Taehyung.

Something interesting.

Jungkook can’t put his finger on it.

Three deadly hours later, Julio from Homicides shows up. He looks like someone out of a
detective movie, with a big belly and a messy beard.

“Good job, sport.” He smacks Jungkook’s arm, taking the box from him. “If something’s
missing, I’ll let you know.”

“Tell that to my mom.”

“Same thing.” Julio scratches his left cheek. “Hey, do you know that car? That gray one.”
With his chin, he gestures at a Chevrolet with the windows up.

“No.”

“I’ve seen a lot of sketchy vehicles in my life,” he says. “Keep an eye on that one.”

Jungkook peeks at the car, parked on the other side of the street.

As Julio gets into his beat-up SUV, Jungkook moves forward, crossing his arms in front of
his chest. The windows of the Chevrolet are tinted. There’s no way to see who’s inside.

He just hopes it’s no one.

Taehyung is cleaning the pool barefoot when Jungkook walks into the backyard. The sky is a
jumble of yellows and pinks, time for the sun to set.

“Hello, Neighbor,” Taehyung says, moving the skimmer net from side to side. He doesn’t
look up.

“I need your help.” Jungkook’s pulse throbs against his neck.

Surprise morphs Taehyung’s expression. His hands freeze, he stands straight. “I’m
listening.”

“Weird.” Taehyung watches the gray Chevrolet through the blinds in Jungkook's living room.
All the lights in the house are off. “I’ve never seen it before. It could be a neighbor’s car. Ms.
Jarr has a nephew that visits every weekend.”
“But this guy, the detective, told me it looked sketchy.”

“Mmh.” Taehyung narrows his eyes. “We always trust detectives.”

His head is close to Jungkook’s, their noses almost brushing the window as they look
outside.

“Need you to go out there,” Jungkook says, “and check who it is.”

“That sounds like too much.”

“What if it’s a murderer?”

“Dude, this neighborhood’s safe.” The pleading look Jungkook tosses him must work,
because Taehyung breathes out, pulls his baseball cap backwards, and says, “Okay. I’ll go.”

“If there’s someone, ask for their name. Where they’re from.”

Taehyung grins at him. “You like giving orders, don’t you?”

“C’mon.”

“What do I get?”

“Really? I have a freaking tracker on my leg. If I could do it, I would.”

“Your Alice On Chairs CD? Wow, okay.” Taehyung’s clearly ignoring him. “I think that’s a
lot, but I’ll take it.”

“In Chains. It’s Alice In Chains.”

Taehyung shrugs, walking down the driveway, hands in the pockets of his shorts. He looks to
both sides before crossing the street. Once he’s next to the Chevrolet, he turns to Jungkook.

Jungkook shoots his eyebrows up, moving his hand in a ‘hurry up’ gesture, his heart rate
accelerating.

“C’mon,” he whispers.

When Taehyung knocks on the car’s window, Jungkook holds his breath.

No answer.

Taking his time, Taehyung circles the vehicle, bending down to sneak a peek inside, then
sliding his thumb over the paint as he approaches a different window and taps twice. Three
times.

Nothing.

The car is empty.

Relieved, Jungkook swallows the lump in his throat.

“Do you have any enemies?”

Jungkook finishes pouring Pepsi in a glass, showing his back to Taehyung. “No.” He turns
around, hands Taehyung the drink and leans against the kitchen sink. It’s dark out. The
ceiling lights are casting shadows on Taehyung’s face. “Maybe someone hates me and I have
no idea.”

“Something related to that thing, perhaps?” Taehyung points at Jungkook’s ankle, taking a
sip.

Silence follows.

“I don’t think so.” Jungkook slides a hand on the countertop next to him, looking down at his
feet. “You haven’t asked me why I have it,” he says.

Taehyung clears his throat. “I don’t know.” He leaves the glass over the microwave, then runs
his fingers down his jaw. “Figured you wouldn’t want to talk about it.”

Jungkook tips his head.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Taehyung asks, curious. His eyes move in a funny way, like
they grow and squint at the same time.
Jungkook shakes his head. “Nah.” He approaches the door that leads to the backyard. The
skimmer net lies next to the pool, just where Taehyung left it. “My mom told me I have to
clean the pool from time to time. Why? I never use it.”

“I can talk to her if you want.”

Jungkook makes a face. “No, thanks.”

“You should use it, then. I bet that thing you’re wearing can survive some chlorine.”

A snort rolls out of Jungkook’s mouth. “It can.”

When their eyes meet, Taehyung looks ashamed. “Hey, I’m really sorry for the other night.”
He picks up his glass, puts it in the sink. “For crossing the line. I— Sometimes, I talk more
than I should.”

Pushing his tongue against his cheek, Jungkook slowly nods. “It’s okay.”

“Cool.” Taehyung takes off his cap, fixes his hair.

Jungkook focuses on the pool again. “Cool.”

It’s close to midnight when he hears the front door open. His mother’s footsteps punch the
floor as she walks to the kitchen, then up the stairs.

Jungkook’s lying in his bed in the dark, still unable to get used to his new room. It’s much
better than the one on campus, that’s for sure. Still, it’s not his. And it might never be.

“Are you awake?”

He rolls his head on the pillow, watching his mother standing on the threshold with a bowl of
something in her hands. The light from the hallway hits her from behind, her face unreadable.

“Trying to sleep,” Jungkook says. “It’s too hot.”

“Didn’t you love the heat?”

Jungkook’s chest expands as he breathes. “Things change.”

His mother nods. “They sure did.”

Jungkook thought he had built a stronger vest around him to dodge his mother’s words. If he
did, it’s not working.

They still fucking hurt.

“Good job today,” she says. Jungkook wishes he could see her face because her voice sounds
soft. “With the evidence. Julio said everything was fine.”

Jungkook nods, wanting this conversation to be over.

“Well.” She takes a step back, stops. It looks like she’s about to say something else.

But she doesn’t.

First time peeing in a plastic cup with a cop in the next room.

Jungkook laughs at himself, looking in the bathroom mirror the way his face falls.

“You good?” Malachy knocks on the door. There are no traces of worry in his voice. It’s just
flat. “Don’t try to do any experiments in there.”

“I’ve got nothing to hide,” Jungkook says, leaving the cup on the sink before washing his
hands. “Almost done.”

“Next time, make sure to drink more water before I get here.”

“Yeah.” Jungkook exhales, glimpsing at his yellow pee, like apple juice, wishing this was a
dream he could wake up from. “Whatever.”
Painting the wall under the heavy heat has Jungkook losing some brain cells. He’s had at
least two liters of Pepsi, and he still feels all dry inside.

He needs water. Gallons of it.

The pool looks really tempting. Shiny and calm. No one’s in the backyard right now.
Taehyung and his parents haven’t been around all day, so maybe Jungkook can try it out.
Dive into the water. Swim for a while.

It doesn’t matter if his shorts get wet, it’s hot enough to hang them from his window and wait
for them to dry.

He looks up. No clouds in sight. This backyard could use a tree or something. For a bit of
shadow.

“Fuck it,” he says, pulling up his t-shirt and swinging it to the ground. His flip flops too.

He looks around the place before testing the water with his fingers. It’s nice. Really fucking
nice. Jungkook can’t stop smiling.

If the tracker explodes once he’s in there, he doesn’t care. Malachy said he could do this. It’ll
be his fault if something goes wrong.

Or maybe the tracker stops working and he’s able to leave.

That’d be a good thing.

“Let’s do this.” Jungkook moves several steps back, getting in position, then runs to the edge
of the pool and jumps.

The jolt of adrenaline is instant.

“You lied,” he hears once his head is out.

Swiping the water and hair off his face, he blinks, sees Taehyung walking towards him,
flashing a smirk. He’s dressed in workout clothes.

“What?”

“You have a tattoo.”

Jungkook snorts, breaking eye contact. “And?”

“I thought we were making progress the other day. Getting to know each other.”

Taehyung’s talking bullshit now, Jungkook can tell. “Why do you even want that?”

“Get to know you?” Taehyung asks.

Jungkook sinks down until the water reaches his lips. He nods.
“You seem nice.” It looks like Taehyung is being serious when he adds, “And I guess you
could use some company while you’re stuck here.”

Slowly, Jungkook swims to the other end of the pool. “I’m fine by myself.”

“That’s what everybody says.”

Jungkook’s mouth pulls up. He has to roll his eyes. “I don’t need your sympathy.”

“That’s not what I’m doing here.” Taehyung tips his chin down. “Okay, a little.”

Jungkook exhales through his nose, closing his eyes as he floats, face up. “Liar.”

“We’re humans. We all lie.”

“Yeah, and we can be alone if we want.”

He hears Taehyung’s feet moving across the grass, getting closer to the pool. “You don’t have
to.”

Jungkook’s eyes stay closed. He breathes in. Between the smell of chlorine and grass, he
catches a hint of Taehyung’s musky scent.

A smell he’s never tried before.

“Anyway.” Taehyung smacks his hands together. “You can start cleaning the pool now that
you’ve used it.”

“Later,” Jungkook says, opening one eye. The sun is hitting hard today.

“Not too late.” Taehyung grins. “My friends are coming over.”
His mother’s wearing a sparkly dress when Jungkook runs into her in the kitchen.

“I’ll be gone for a few hours.”

Jungkook eyes her, opening the fridge and grabbing the last bottle of Pepsi. “With who?” he
asks, before he can stop himself.

“The Kims.” His mom fills a glass with tap water. “A friend of theirs is taking us to this
Argentinian restaurant an hour away.”

“Is Taehyung going?”

“No, he has to study.”

Jungkook frowns. “Why?”

“He has an exam next week. For a job he wants.”

Resting his hip on a counter, Jungkook is stunned. That’s not what Taehyung said. “What’s
the deal with him?” he asks, drinking Pepsi from the bottle.

“What do you mean? He’s nice. A good boy. You should hang out with him.”

Jungkook scoffs.

“I’ll be meeting up with Malachy at the firm after dinner, probably will stay there until late.
For our newest case.”

“Okay,” Jungkook says, watching his mom walk out of the room. Once she’s gone, he
whispers, “Have fun.”
An hour later, Taehyung and his friends are listening to Boyz II Men, screaming the lyrics to
their songs.

Every note drills a hole on Jungkook’s skull as he lies on his bed. He groans, unable to
believe his luck, burying his face on his pillow and pulling the covers up.

When the voices reach the chorus, he’s fed up. It takes him a second to hurl half his body out
the window and shout.

But the guy sitting on his roof stops him.

“What the—?”

Frat boy wheezes, lifting the beer he’s holding. “Neighbor!”

“Gunn, c’mon.” Taehyung’s voice is coming from below. “Get back here!”

Jungkook steps out, his feet against the rough slates of the roof. Once he sees Taehyung, he
lifts an eyebrow at him. “Really?”

“Sorry.” Taehyung scrunches his nose in shame. “I told him my neighbor likes to sit on the
roof and, well, this guy thinks he’s Spiderman.”

“I’m fucking Spiderman!”

Jungkook tries to calm down. “You’re wasted.”

“That too.”

“Taehyung,” he warns, but his voice comes out softer next, “Please.”

Taehyung’s smile fades.

“I’m fine,” Gunn says as he’s getting dragged out of Jungkook’s house by Taehyung’s
friends.

Most of the people have left, the music sounding lower than earlier.

“Sorry about that.” Taehyung scratches his neck, giving Jungkook an apologetic look. “The
party’s over anyway. My parents will be here soon.”

“They think you’re studying.”

An unabashed grin takes over Taehyung’s face. “Maybe I was.”

“For an exam?”

“Kind of.” He nudges Jungkook’s chest, making Jungkook cross his arms. “C’mon. It’s not
like you don’t lie to your mom. I was there when you said I helped you fix the power instead
of the truth.”

Jungkook tips his head to the side. “And what was the truth?”

“I have my theories.”

That pisses Jungkook off a little too much. “Keep them,” he states, poking out his chest,
reaching for the door handle, ready to say goodbye.
Taehyung makes a military salute, probably thinking he’s funny. “Good night.”

Jungkook keeps his mouth shut.

Wednesday. Jungkook wakes up late.

He’s not in the mood to paint the wall today. He’s tired. Lazy.

Unmotivated.

He goes out for the first time at noon to get some food.

The kitchen’s empty, as well as the backyard, the pool a sparkling bed of calm water.

He takes one of the veggie pizzas out of the freezer, heats it up. The sun spreads on the
counters as he pours Pepsi in a glass. He thinks about swimming in the pool soon. When no
one’s around.

He can’t remember if he packed his swimsuit, though. He’d have to check.

When the pizza’s ready, Jungkook brings everything upstairs, closing his door. He eats while
listening to music before falling asleep.
It’s after 4 p.m. that the doorbell wakes him up.

“What are you doing here?”

Standing by the door, Pauly smiles. “Are you busy?”

“No.” Jungkook tries to fix his hair. “But—”

“Are you alone?”

“Yeah.”

They hold eyes for a second.

“Are you gonna leave me hanging?” Pauly asks, laughing. “I came all the way here just to see
you.”

Without truly wanting to, Jungkook opens the door and steps to the side.

Pauly walks into Jungkook’s room as if he’d been there before.

As if he owned it.
“This sucks,” he says, with a grin on his face. “Miss those nerdy architecture posters on the
walls back at your dorm.”

Jungkook walks to the window, gazing at the backyard. Taehyung’s not there. “I’ll be out of
here soon.”

“I hope so.” Pauly’s hands wrap around Jungkook’s waist, his groin pushing against his ass.
“I miss going to Jupiter’s with the team, seeing you there.” He rolls his hips. “Kiss you in the
storage room. Fuck your mouth next to the ketchup bottles.” He smiles against Jungkook’s
ear.

“That was one time.”

“Can’t stop thinking about it.” A hand grabs Jungkook’s chin, pushes it to the side so they’re
looking at each other. “Don’t you?”

When Jungkook nods, Pauly kisses him—hard. With tongue. No preamble.

He kisses Jungkook like he owns him, too.

Maybe that’s the feeling Jungkook’s addicted to.

“Did you tell her?” Jungkook asks, after breaking the kiss and moving out of Pauly’s arms,
keeping his distance.

“Why do you always wanna talk about that?”

“She almost died.” Jungkook frowns. He only gets a groan in response. “Aren’t you
worried?”

“No, ‘cause she’s fine now. Nothing happened.”

“I almost go to jail. For something I didn’t do. When are you gonna tell your friends to
change their statements?”

“You’re asking me for too many things.”

Jungkook snorts.

A strong, joyful laugh seeps through the window. Taehyung’s in the backyard.

“Neighbors?” Pauly asks, getting into Jungkook’s space again, kissing Jungkook’s cheek up
to his ear, dragging his tongue over his earlobe.

“Don’t.” Jungkook slides away from Pauly’s hands, scratching his forehead.

Pauly rolls his eyes. “Fine.”

Taehyung screams again, now sharing words with whoever’s with him.

“What’s up with your neighbor?”

“He’s always loud.” Jungkook stares at Pauly, deciding if he wants to get into this
conversation or not. “He actually knows you.”

“Everybody knows me.”

Jungkook straightens his back, tilts his head. “Kim Taehyung.” He notices how Pauly’s eyes
sharpen. “He’s a rugby player.”

“He’s an asshole.”

That’s surprising. “Why?”

“You don’t play any sports. You’ll never get it.”

Jungkook blinks, surprised he’s not that hurt by Pauly’s tone. “Okay…”

“Just stay away from him.”

A laugh slips out of Jungkook’s mouth. He stops when he notices Pauly’s jaw is tight and
locked. “You’re serious.”

“I am.” Running a hand through his hair, Pauly takes a breath. “Look— It’s best if I go.”

“Wait, why?”

“I’m not in the mood anymore.”

“Wait, P.”

“Hey, I get it. We’ll talk later.” Pauly comes closer and kisses Jungkook on the forehead.
“Have fun here.”

Taehyung’s laughing when Pauly walks through the door, leaving Jungkook in the middle of
his room, frozen.
Next morning, Jungkook’s mom is working from home.

The noises on the first floor give her away. Laughter and sounds of struggle.

As Jungkook walks out, he leans on the stair rail to see her better. “Mom?”

“Not quite.”

Downstairs, next to the front door, Taehyung’s holding a cardboard box.

“Where does this go?” he asks.

Jungkook’s mother struts in, a paper in her hands. “My office. The bookcase goes into one of
the empty rooms, next to Jungkook’s.”

“Mom.”

She looks up, a slight grin morphing her face. “Good morning. Did you finish the wall?”

Jungkook thinks about lying to her, yet he settles for the truth. “Not yet.”

“Then come downstairs and help us.”

“What’s going on?”

“A few things I bought just arrived. Taehyung could use your help.”

Jungkook glances at the stuff Taehyung’s holding, at the boxes next to his feet.

“Okay,” he says, blowing out a deep breath. He walks down the stairs, skipping some steps.

Taehyung’s smiling at him.

In one of the empty rooms, Taehyung and Jungkook build a bookcase together. Which means
Jungkook’s working on it while Taehyung plays with the tools.

“You’re a kid,” Jungkook says, sitting with his legs crossed and back hunched, putting two
pieces of wood together.

“I’m fun to be around with.”

“Is your ego that big?”

“Don’t know. Wanna find out?”

Jungkook casts him a glare.

“C’mon, you worry too much.”

“I don’t do that.”

“You do.” Taehyung points at him with the screwdriver. “I can see it in your face. Your
eyebrows. They move.”

Jungkook stops his hands. “Move?”

“They’re very expressive.”

“Okay.” He says it like he’s weirded out, focusing again on the bookcase. But there’s
something about Taehyung perceiving him, talking to him, studying him.

Jungkook grabs a hammer and the manual to run it over again.

Taehyung’s not done talking, though. “Were you living with your dad before coming here?”

Jungkook lets silence speak for itself.

“Campus?”

“Yeah,” he finally says. “Why?”

“Just wondering. Living with a parent after so long can be a challenge.”

“It’s whatever.”

“Your mom’s happy to have you here.”

Jungkook locks eyes with him. “How do you know?”

“She looks happier.”

“Yeah, right.”

“It’s true.” Taehyung slightly prods Jungkook’s shoulder with his hand. “She is.”

The touch makes Jungkook’s brain glitch. It felt too real. Warm. Jungkook wants to rub the
place where Taehyung’s skin was. “Since when you and my mom know each other?”

Surprise flashes in Taehyung’s eyes. “A long time ago.”

“You two seem close,” Jungkook says. He can hear the dryness in his tone, the way his body
tightens. It puts an embarrassed smirk on his face. “Not that I care.”

“She’s nice. She’s been friends with my parents for years.”

Jungkook is suddenly curious about that. He wants to keep asking questions, get to know
Taehyung a little more, peek into his head.

But once again, Taehyung’s fist connects with Jungkook’s shoulder, this time a little harder,
making his brain glitch. “Any music group you like other than Alice?”

Jungkook purses his lips, grabbing a measuring tape. “The Verve.”

“What else?”

“Stone Temple Pilots. System of a Down. Pearl Jam. Limp Bizkit.”

“You’re a walking cliché.”

That drags a chuckle out of Jungkook. “So are you.”

“Yeah?”

Jungkook lifts his chin. “Bet you were popular in uni,” he says.

He immediately regrets it.

“What else?”

Unsure, he shoots Taehyung a look. “You always have a girl with you…”

Taehyung offers him an encouraging nod. “Go on.”

“No girlfriends, because you can’t commit.” A fuzzy feeling spreads across Jungkook’s chest.
“You party almost every weekend, getting wasted until you black out. Parents don’t know
that, though. They think you’re perfect. All of them want you as their son. You win every
game you play, and people admire you because of it. You’re a star.”

“Whoa.” Taehyung shakes his head with a grin. “You really nailed it.”

Jungkook’s not sure why, but those words send chills up his arms. He has to grip the manual
to stop the feeling from spreading.

“Except for one thing,” Taehyung casually says.

Lifting an eyebrow, Jungkook stares at him.

“I’m gay.”
After a while, Taehyung’s friends come to pick him up. The bookcase is almost finished, but
Jungkook can’t stop wondering where they went.

“Everything alright?”

He snaps his head up, finds his mom looking at him from the hallway with a worried face.
“What?”

“You’ve been looking at that thing for the past ten or fifteen minutes.”

“I wasn’t.” Jungkook goes back to the tools on the floor. He cracks his neck. “Just trying to
finish this.”

“What about painting the wall?”

“Sorry.” He breathes out through his nose, looking at his mom again. “I’ll do it tomorrow.”

“Need you to look into some folders too. It won’t take you long.” She rests her head on the
door frame. “I know it might feel like a lot, but these things will keep you busy. And that’s
good for you.”

“Mom.” Jungkook sits straight, focusing his attention on the bookcase again. “I know.”
When it’s late, Jungkook sits on the roof outside his window, watching the neighbors’ house.

It’s creepy how close they are, almost like there’s no privacy. Sharing the backyard with a
stranger, the pool, the patio and grill, is weird.

Taehyung doesn’t seem to mind. It’s like he goes through life accepting everything. Enjoying
everything.

The word ‘gay’ is running circles in Jungkook’s head. The way Taehyung shared it. No
shame. Not worried about what Jungkook could say.

That type of confidence is ten times more attractive than a hot body or a pretty face. It’s
something Pauly’s missing.

Why is Jungkook wasting his fucking time with him, then?

He asks himself that question with every step he takes, all the way down to the first floor, into
the kitchen, while he picks up the phone in the dark and dials the number carved on every cell
in his brain.

“Hello?”

“Hello, sir.” Jungkook’s stomach churns. “Is Pauly home?”

“Who’s this?”

“A friend from the team. We have a meeting with Coach this week. Need to tell Pauly about
it.”

“You know what time it is, kid?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Wait a sec.”

Jungkook breathes in, turning around as he runs a hand through his hair. The cord tightens
when he walks towards the windows. He stops and waits.

“Pauly here.”

“Hey.”

Pauly’s voice immediately changes. It sounds fake. “Hi, man, what’s going on?”
“Was thinking about you.”

“Yeah? What did Coach say?”

Jungkook hates when they do this. The pretending. “Need to ask you something.”

“Sure.” Pauly clears his throat, and Jungkook knows he would rather stop the call than listen
to whatever Jungkook’s about to ask.

“Do you really want this? Us?”

It takes Pauly a moment to answer. His voice is still strange, like every time Jungkook calls
him on the phone. “Yes.”

One word. One fucking word, and Jungkook’s gone for. “What are we gonna do, then?”

“Keep doing what we do best.”

“P…”

“Dude, it’s not an easy thing to talk about.”

“I don’t think it’s fair. That’s all.”

Pauly lowers his voice, breathing out. “Give me more time.”

“I don’t know if I can, P.”

“You do. C’mon.” Pauly laughs. A fake sound. “ Tell me when we have to meet for practice
and I’ll work it out.”

Jungkook says nothing, listening to his own breathing, louder than any background noise.

“This weekend? Sounds good.”

“Yeah.” Jungkook presses his tongue against his bottom lip, looking at the night sky. At the
dark outside. “I’ll be here.”
 IV.

The heat’s heavy in the air, sunlight piercing through concrete, making the blue sky feel like
red. Mornings feel like afternoons with an empty schedule.

“How are things going?” Malachy asks, standing by an open window with a glass of water in
his hand. The sample cup with Jungkook’s urine rests inside a transparent bag on the dining
room table. “It’s been, what, a week? Two weeks?”

“I have no idea.” On the couch, Jungkook runs his fingers through his hair. They come out
wet. “Time moves differently here trapped in this house.”

Malachy smirks. “I like you.” He swirls his glass, standing straight. “My daughter wants to
get into your university next year. Is it good?”

“Could be better.”

“Do you recommend it or not?”

“Yeah.” Jungkook rests his arm on the back of the couch. His armpit smells. “What is she
going for?”

Malachy loosens his tie, opening the four first buttons of his shirt. “Something in finance.”

“That’s tough.”

“But it brings the money home.”

Jungkook takes the opportunity to ask, “How many kids do you have?”

“Two alive.” Malachy takes a sip, looking out the window, then at Jungkook. “Three if we
count them all.”
“I’m sorry.”

“Whatever happens is part of the Lord's plan. He helps us be prepared.” Malachy downs the
rest of his water, licking his lips before drying his mouth with his palm. “He works in
mysterious ways.”

Silence stretches out, a strong, warm wind pushing the curtains to the side.

“Thanks.” Malachy gestures at Jungkook with his empty glass. “See you next week.”

Jungkook has never believed in God. But every time he watches the sunrise, like he’s doing
right now from the roof outside his room, he thinks he should.

Plants are a blue-ish green, an orange hue bouncing off every surface, golden streaks
sneaking through the clouds.

Taehyung’s house is still. All the windows open. Lights off.

Suddenly, the image of Taehyung falling from the roof the other day, with his parents there,
has Jungkook wanting to try it out.

He can do it. The backyard is not that far. And it’s just grass. A puffy blanket of green grass.
Breathing in, Jungkook counts to three. And he jumps, thinking of God on his way down. A
blurry thing.

If God existed, they would’ve helped Jungkook land on his own two feet.

But they don’t.

Jungkook’s right ankle bends.

He falls to the side, on his right arm, hitting his head. Air rushes from his lungs.

“That was the lamest thing I’ve ever seen,” someone says.

Jungkook looks over his shoulder, rolls his eyes when he sees Taehyung. “Fuck off.” He
groans. “I almost got it.”

“Oh, yeah.” Taehyung stands next to him, his shoes hanging from his fingers, his t-shirt
wrapped around his neck. He’s holding an empty yellow Solo cup. “Having fun?”

“Not as much as you, apparently.”

“I did have fun watching you fall.”

Jungkook scoffs, sprawling on the grass. “I meant because of the way you look.”

“How do I look?” Taehyung leans forward, chin down, checking himself out.

“Like you’ve been partying all night.”

Taehyung grins.

“Or were you studying?” Jungkook asks him, putting his arms behind his head.

Barking out a laugh, Taehyung bends forward. “Why do you care what I lie about so much?”

“I don’t.”

“You do.” He gestures at him. “You should focus on yourself, anyway. Saw you getting cozy
with one of your lies the other day.”

Jungkook’s stomach drops. “You didn’t.”

“I did.” Taehyung winces, and it’s the first time Jungkook sees him do that. Of course, he still
looks good. “Y’know, I hate that guy.”

“Funny. He hates you, too.”

Amusement flashes in Taehyung’s eyes. His whole demeanor changes. “You talked about
me?”

“After hearing you laugh a few times. Yeah.”

“Sorry for having fun.” Taehyung’s sarcastic side is in full force today. “Can’t believe you’re
hooking up with him.”

Jungkook whisper-yells, “Shut the fuck up.”

Shrugging, Taehyung lifts his open palms. “Forgot your mom doesn’t know.” He walks
backwards, a smile growing on his face. “Not surprised. I wouldn’t want my parents to know
I’m dating someone like him either.”

“We’re not dating.”

“Right, of course.” Taehyung nods, pouting his lips in a mocking way. “Pauly doesn’t date
men. At least not in public.”

“What’s your fucking problem?” Jungkook stands up, wiping his shorts with his hands.
“You’re an asshole when you’re drunk.”

“There’s no alcohol in my body by now. I just didn’t get laid when I wanted to, and Pauly’s
not my favorite topic of conversation— And just so you know, you’re not the only one going
through life stuff.” Taehyung turns around, strides to his house. “If you ever wanna talk about
things that matter, let me know.” He waves the yellow plastic cup in the air. “You know
where to find me.”
Jungkook’s still reeling about his encounter with Taehyung.

Painting the wall in the backyard gives him a lot of time to think about it. The fact
Taehyung’s nowhere to be seen makes it worse.

“You must be Dani’s son.”

A man with sunglasses stands in the middle of the backyard, hands in the pockets of his
expensive shorts. His Polo shirt is white as bones.

“Your mom talks a lot about you.” The guy pulls a face. For a second, Jungkook can see
Taehyung all over him. “Only good things.” He stretches out his hand. “I’m Hain.
Taehyung’s dad.”

“Nice to meet you, sir.” Jungkook shows him his hands covered in paint. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Don’t want to bother you. I just need to talk to your mother. Is she around?”

“She’s at work.”

“I should’ve known. Okay. I’ll give her a call, then.” Mr. Kim looks up at the sun, then back
at Jungkook. “Have a good one.”
Getting the white paint off his skin takes Jungkook at least an hour in the shower.

Once he’s done, he goes to his mom’s office, sits at her desk, turning on the computer and
connecting the webcam.

“Any fun news you’d like to share with me?”

Kava’s on the screen, doing her nails.

“No.” With a small towel, Jungkook dries his hair. His body is exhausted, he could fall asleep
right there. “My mom’s been keeping me busy.”

“Doing what?”

“Building stuff, painting, helping her with some work documents.”

“Cool. What if you found out you’re good at Law?”

“No way.”

“What? It’s not like you’re studying the career of your dreams.”

“Are you?”

She scoffs. “I think no one is.”

“Yeah.” Jungkook opens the window, spreading the towel over the sill. His attention instantly
falls on Taehyung’s house. “The frat guy has been bothering me lately.”

Kava changes the color, painting her thumb. “What do you mean by bothering?”

“He keeps making small talk. He’s somehow best friends with my mom. And he’s always in
the backyard, alone or with friends.”

“It’s summer, Jungkook, and you have a pool. What else would he be doing?” Resting her
elbows on the desk, Kava blows at her nails. “You need to chill.”

“He kinda said that.”

“Then he already knows you better than you do.”

“Ha ha.” Something doesn’t sit well in Jungkook’s chest. “I don’t know, it feels forced.”

“What if he’s into you? You’re handsome. Single. Unproblematic.”

Jungkook barks out a laugh. As soon as Pauly’s face appears in the back of his head, he
sobers up. “Kav, I—” He winces. “I have to tell you something.”

“Oh my god, you kissed him!”

“Who?”
“The frat guy!”

“No!” Jungkook shifts in his seat, noticing a folder on the desk with his name on it. A
message written in blue marker: ‘ Please, organize these in alphabetical order.’

He sighs.

“What is it?”

Before he can speak, he hears the doorbell ring, followed by a loud knock.

“Sorry, Kav.” He stands up, looking straight at the screen. “Gotta go.”

When Jungkook flings the door open, he halts.

“Surprised?” Dunton’s wearing his job uniform, his bike parked by the curb. “After you and
Kava called the other day, Vince decided to change the delivery zone. I had to deliver an
order a few blocks from here.”

“Sorry about that,” Jungkook says. He smiles. “You wanna come in?”

“Just wanted to say hello. See how you’re doing.”

“Good.” He rests his arm on the door, rubbing his chest. “Trying not to drink or smoke. Gotta
give out urine samples every week.”

Dunton’s eyebrows jump at that. “Shit, that sucks.”

“Yeah. But the pool’s nice.”

“I’m gonna have a free day soon. Maybe I could… come over? We could hang out.”

“Sure.” Jungkook nods, straightening his back. “Definitely. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Great. Like old times.”

They stare at each other until Dunton breathes out.

“Good to see you, man.”

“You, too.”

Hoping to see Taehyung in the backyard, Jungkook eats dinner in the kitchen. Frozen pizza.
Again.

He’s getting tired of it. But he really hates cooking.

“Eating this late?”

Jungkook looks at the door, finds his mom striding in with her suitcase. No jacket on. “I was
finishing the wall.”

“That’s great. Thanks.” She opens the fridge, grabbing a bottle of wine. “My feet are killing
me.”

Jungkook doesn’t know what to say. He focuses on his food, glancing at Taehyung’s house
from time to time.

“You haven’t touched the juice I got you.”

“I don’t like berries.”

“Since when?”

Jungkook remains silent, elbows resting on the table as he chews.

His mother exhales. “Okay. Whenever you can, write me a list of things you like. Don’t want
you to survive on Pepsi and pizza forever.”

She ties her hair up in a bun, grabbing a glass and pouring herself a drink. The wrinkles
around her eyes are deep. The ones around her mouth too, signs she’s been smiling a lot.
With who, Jungkook doesn’t know.

He just watches her. “Mr. Kim was looking for you earlier.”

“He called me at the firm,” she says. “You met him?”

“Yeah. He’s nice.”

“He’s the best. I need you to be on his good side, okay?”

Jungkook nods, poking at his food with a fork. “How do you know each other?”

“I was his secretary for ten years. It’s thanks to him I’ve been able to get this far in Law.”

Jungkook nods, remembering how his mother used to work during the day and study during
the night. Never home.

“I’m too tired to eat,” she says. She takes her suitcase and the bottle of wine with her. “Try
not to go to bed so late.”

Pushing his plate away, Jungkook stays there, waiting to see Taehyung walk out of his house.
Alone or with a friend.

It never happens.
It’s 8 a.m.

As soon as Malachy hands Jungkook a tiny cup, the voice of a woman blurts through the
black radio strapped to his chest.

“Code star.”

Malachy pokes a button. “Got it,” he mutters, groaning with his eyes closed. “Something
came up.”

Jungkook rests his hips against the back of the couch, crossing his arms in front of his bare
chest. “I have to drink water first.”

“What? What did I tell you last time? You—” The radio buzzes again.

“Sorry,” Jungkook lies. He doesn’t mean it. “There’s no pee in me right now.”

Malachy glares at him. “Fine.” He walks to the front door, opening it, letting the morning sun
in. “I’ll come back for the sample tonight. Don’t try anything stupid.”

Jungkook lifts his hands, the plastic cup brushing his skin. “I won’t.”
The water from the shower is too hot.

Jungkook’s mom has left for work, so with a towel wrapped around his waist, he rushes down
the stairs to the kitchen to look for the heater.

The thing is inside a counter on the wall, set at the highest level possible.

“Fucking hell.”

He slams the door shut when Taehyung’s muffled laugh reaches the kitchen.

Through the window, Jungkook finds him sunbathing on one of the lounge chairs, sunglasses
on, looking like his dad. A guy is sitting next to him, spreading sunscreen on Taehyung’s
arms.

Still wet, Jungkook strides back to the bathroom, snatching the small cup and taking a leak.
Water mixes with his pee, and Jungkook hopes that way the sample is more healthy or
something.

Once he’s in his room, he shoves a t-shirt and shorts on him and tosses his towel on the bed.

He remembers the documents his mom asked him to organize and decides to work on them
on the roof.

No reason.
He’s barely focused on them when Taehyung notices him.

“Hey,” Taehyung shouts, gesturing at his lap. “Busy?”

The other guy looks up. It’s Spiderman, looking hot during broad daylight. Not as much as
Taehyung, but good enough.

“Yes,” Jungkook states, gaze dropping to the documents he hasn’t read since he sat here.

He wants Taehyung to talk to him, but he also wants Taehyung to know he hasn’t forgotten
their conversation from the other day. That’s why Jungkook acts like he’s pissed, although he
is. He wants Taehyung to know that.

“Do you want to join us? Take a break.”

“I can’t.”

“It’s summer.”

“For some of you.” Jungkook shrugs. “Not me.”

A chuckle rolls out of Taehyung’s shiny lips. He must be wearing vaseline. “You really know
how to take the fun out of things.”

That pokes a deep corner in Jungkook’s chest; he’s surprised how hard. “You don’t know
me.”

“Because you don’t let me.”

Taehyung’s friend isn’t watching anymore. He’s just sprawled on the other chair, eyes closed.
Jungkook’s uncomfortable talking about this with the guy there, listening to everything.

It’s crazy how Taehyung doesn’t even care.

“That sad boy, depressed thing you got going on?” Taehyung sucks in his teeth. “Doesn’t suit
you, by the way.”

Jungkook snaps his head up, finding Taehyung resting on his chair, soaking up the sun.

Something’s different. Is he acting like a prick on purpose?

“If you get bored…” Taehyung lets the words hang in the heat, clearly because he can.

Jungkook shakes his head, focusing on his mom’s documents, lying to himself that he’s there
only to work on his assignment and not to be right where Taehyung is.
The first thing Jungkook does after waking up is cringe at himself. He covers his eyes with
his palms, wrinkling his face.

Whatever he did yesterday was a mistake. Today, he’s going to ignore Taehyung, work on his
mother’s documents, and just wait for the time to fly.

After showering, he sits at the desk in his mother’s office, dying of boredom when the
doorbell calls.

He’s starting to hate the sound.

“Cheers.” It’s Dunton, holding a movie and a plastic bag. “Been wanting to watch this one
for too long.”

He gives Jungkook the tape, then smacks his arm with fondness as he walks inside the house.

“Tom Cruise?”

“People say it’s his best work to date.”

Jungkook closes the door, turning around. “A movie called Jerry Mcguire.”

“Yes.”

He smiles, says, “Alright,” guiding Dunton to the living room.

“I have to return it tomorrow before work,” Dunton says. “Ever since that old lady bought
FanVideo, things have been going south.”

“No wonder it’s the cheapest place to get a movie from.”

“Brought popcorn and smokes, too.”

“Is this a date?” Jungkook asks, grinning.

Dunton hits him with the plastic bag. “You wish.”

“A huge guy, definitely part of the rugby team, had his legs dangling from the edge, an
expensive beer in his hand, screaming the fucking lyrics to a Boyz II Men song.”

Dunton cracks a smile, taking a drag from his cigarette and giving it back to Jungkook. The
wind is cooler here on the roof today. “I would’ve pissed my pants.”

“These people think they can do whatever the hell they want.”

“Because they usually can.”

“Yeah, ‘cause no one tells them to go fuck themselves.” Jungkook scoffs, takes a pause to
look at the cigarette between his fingers. He studies it. “I was obsessed with these. Now it’s
just… whatever.”

“Hate them. I need to quit.”

“I’ve tried doing that multiple times.”

“Kava joined you once. Our first year.”

“And she’s still going strong.”

Dunton breathes in, chin up. “Can’t believe this is our last year,” he says. “Have you decided
what you’re gonna do next?”

“Don’t wanna think about it.”

“You should.” With his fingers smoothing his long hair, Dunton groans. “I don’t see myself
working at Jupiter’s forever.”

“Vince’s gonna miss you.”

“Fuck him.”

They both laugh, shaking their shoulders and closing their eyes. The smoke makes Jungkook
cough.

He puts out his cigarette, rubbing it against the roof tiles. “Have the other guys asked about
me?”

“Rani did.”

“What did he say?”

“He hates your guts, man. Of course he was happy you were gone.”

Jungkook snorts. “I don’t think it’ll be easy to find a job after this.” He gestures at the tracker
on his leg, looking down at the pool. The backyard’s empty. “Wish I could go somewhere
else. Disappear.”

“Isn’t that what you’re doing here?”

He meets Dunton’s eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Disappearing.” Dunton pushes his chest out, motions around. “Not everyone knows where
you are. And not everyone here knows you. Use that to your advantage.”

Jungkook blinks away, looks at the sky, at his hands.

“Come on.” Dunton drags himself up. “Let’s give Tom Cruise a chance.”
They’re halfway through the movie, sprawled on the big couch, eating the popcorn Dunton
brought.

“Cush’s a dick,” he says.

“He did it for the money.”

“He should’ve stayed loyal to Tom.”

“Jerry,” Jungkook corrects him, smiling.

“He’s messed up.”

“Wouldn’t you’ve done the same? Go with the better option? Jerry’s just starting his own
company, of course he would like to—”

“Were you waiting for someone?”

Jungkook glances at Dunton, the blue light from the TV making his eyes shine. “What?”

“The doorbell rang.”

“When?”
“Just now.”

A knock comes next, kicking up Jungkook’s heart rate. “I’ve no idea who that is.”

He pauses the movie, approaching the door. When he opens it, his ribs squeeze.

Pauly’s wetting his lips, a thumb pressed against his chin. “Aren’t you gonna let me in?”

“This isn’t a good time,” Jungkook says, shutting the door so only half his body is visible.

“Why? Are you with someone?”

Words die in Jungkook’s throat. The look on his face must be one of shock because Pauly
slightly jerks his head back.

“Who?” He frowns. “Is it Kim?” He pushes the door with a fist, walking past Jungkook and
freezing at the sight of Dunton on the couch.

“You’re shitting me.” Dunton’s reaction is no surprise. “Really?” He stares at Jungkook

before standing on his feet and fixing his sweatshirt. “Why did you invite him over?”

“No, I didn’t. I swear.”

Pauly snorts. “You called me.”

“Days ago.”

“Of course.” Dunton looks disappointed, like all the times he’s shared a room with these two.
“You just can’t stop. After all he’s done to you.”

“Excuse me?” Pauly steps closer, choking out a laugh.

“You freaking punched him,” Dunton spits, looking at Jungkook next with his most serious
face. “Tell him to leave.”

“Dunton…” Jungkook’s voice sounds small. He wishes he didn’t give a shit. But he does.

Pauly scoffs. “Is this asshole being serious right now?”

Jungkook holds Dunton’s gaze, even though it hurts.

He just can’t do this. Not now.

“Okay.” A nod. “Whatever. Right?” Dunton tosses his arms up. “Enjoy the movie.” He walks
to the door, squeezing in between Pauly and Jungkook, making sure not to touch them.

“Wait—” Jungkook tries to hold him by his sleeve, but Dunton slips away.

“Just remember to give the movie back, or else you’ll have to pay the penalty fee.”
The sound the door makes when it closes keeps echoing in Jungkook’s ears long after
Dunton’s gone.

Pauly walks from behind him, touching the back of his neck. He can never read a fucking
room. “Why did you have to tell him about us? I swear, I hate that he knows.”

“He’s my best friend,” Jungkook states, stomping to the side. He turns around, first time
facing Pauly since he arrived. “Why are you here?”

“Because you called me, and I said I’d come.”

“Today of all fucking days.”

The words seem to annoy Pauly by the way his lips twitch. “How the hell was I supposed to
know?”

“You need to leave.”

“What?” Pauly’s eyes grow bigger. He can tell Jungkook means every word. “Jeon, c’mon
—”

“Are you here because you like me, P? Or because you want something?” Jungkook’s
breathing gets heavy. “What do you want from me?” he asks, knowing how desperate he
sounds. “Is it ‘cause I suck your dick? ‘Cause I’m always free for you? Because you’re
bored?”

“Where is this shit coming from?”

Jungkook never gets like this. Not with Pauly. But the shame and guilt that woke up inside of
him after the way Dunton looked at him burns. “You have a girlfriend, P.”

“And you were okay with that when we started fooling around.”

“Right. Because that’s what this is. We’re just… doing stupid shit.” Jungkook groans,
wanting to punch the wall. Anything.

The fact he hasn’t been able to see things for what they are. He’s never wanted to.

“Just— Fuckin go.” Jungkook hangs his head in his hands. “Get the hell out. Please.”

Pauly’s jaw ticks. He pushes Jungkook’s shoulder with his on his way to the door. “Fuck
you,” he says. “Don’t ever call me again.”
Jungkook is trying to reach Dunton over the phone when his mother gets home, walking into
the kitchen with two take-out bags.

“Brought dinner,” she says, grabbing some dishes and forks.

Jungkook hangs up. “Dinner?”

“Thought we could eat together.” She swirls around, a smile plastered on her face. “Too
much frozen pizza will kill you.”

“I’m not in the mood.”

“Jungkook, if we’re gonna share the house, at least let’s try to get along. Eating together
shouldn’t be this hard.”

It’s been years since they’ve sat around a table and eaten. Talked. Laughed. Normal things
kids should do with their parents. Especially with their moms.

“There was a time you liked me.”

Jungkook looks at her as she approaches the table and sits down.

“I couldn’t do anything without you wrapped around my waist.”

She puts the food down, dragging a chair out.

“I barely remember that,” Jungkook says, waiting for his mom to give him a plate. Voices
come from the backyard, followed by music.

“You were so small.”

The scent of garlic makes Jungkook’s stomach ache.

As his mother splits a bowl of rice in two, he looks out the window. “Taehyung’s having
friends over again.”

“Let him be.” His mother hands him a plate with cooked greens, waits for Jungkook to take
some. “He’s a good kid, helps his dad with their family business whenever he can, and has a
lot on his plate.”

“Why do you know all that?”

“Well, he’s always making conversation. Always asks me about my day.” The look she sends
Jungkook cuts deep.

Jungkook never asks her that.

“Is being grumpy the new trend?” She grins, in a condescending way. “Why are you always
like this?”

“I’m not.”

“Did something happen?”

“No.”

“You’re an adult, Jungkook. You should know how to communicate. There’s no use in
keeping everything inside.”

Jungkook snaps. “Since when do you wanna talk?” he asks, voice loud. “It’s been years,
Mom. No calls from you. No visits. Not even a letter.”

She drops a handful of veggies onto her plate, then stares at Jungkook with a frown. “You
stopped answering your phone at the dorm. What was I supposed to do? Go stalk you?”

“This is why I prefer Dad. He makes the time.”

“He has the time. I’ve been busting my ass off for the past ten years to give you the life you
want.”

“What I want? You have no idea what I want.”

She lifts a finger. “Don’t push me.”

“Dad cares.”

“He’s not the hero you think he is.”

“At least he’s been there for me, not drowning in work.”

“The work that pays your bills? Your school?”

“Dad handles that.”

“News flash, kid.” His mother drops her fork, puts her hands up. “Your father hasn’t paid a
single thing since we split. Why do you think he can go on vacation five times a year?”

The air in Jungkook’s lungs dissipates. “Bullshit.”

“I’m not the liar here.” His mom scoffs. Rap music plays on loop outside. “Where is he,
anyway? Is he here asking you how you are? Worrying about you? Was he even worried
when you got arrested? Did he talk to the judge and police so you didn’t end up in jail? No.
He’s been getting wasted in Punta Cana with the girl he married, thirty years younger than
him.”

“Is that it? Are you mad he married another woman instead of you?”

“Please. I’m glad I never married that man.”

“Yeah, thank god. I’m sure things at home would’ve been ten times worse.”

“That’s it.” Jungkook’s mom slaps the table with both hands, standing up. “I’m eating
upstairs. Deal with whatever this is alone. I don’t care.”

Once she’s out of the kitchen, Jungkook exhales.

Taehyung’s laugh sounds louder than before, his friends joining him. A group of frat boys.
Drunk.

Jungkook pushes his tongue against his cheek, thinking.

“Fuck it,” he mutters, pulling the door open and marching towards them.
End Notes

thank you for reading!!! updates will be once a month!!! see you soon <3

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