Jimin paced his room in endless circles, quaking with panic. "Fuck, Eun!"
"Jimin, calm down," Eun Yoon said into her screen. Yong stared at her panicking brother while scratching her midnight black hair in confusion. "Just where exactly did you last see it? I'll help you find it, alright? Just chill."
Eun was referring to the USB drive that held Jimin's song recording. When Jimin learned that it went missing when he returned from the restroom, he instantly Facetimed her the second he arrived back at home with his sister to rant on about how significant the recording was. Eun reasoned that overreacting wouldn't do a shit, but Jimin kept at it with a panic-attack streak of 10 full minutes and an amount of 47 laps around his entire bedroom.
"Chill? You want me to chill? Do you even know how big of a deal this is?"
"Jimin, you told me why about a billion times. Sit down and think. Where did you last place it? Were you with anyone at the time? Do you know someone that might have a reason to steal it from you? I'll come over tomorrow when I have to help you out. Just think."
Jimin obeyed and slumped into his pastel pink office chair, twirling it around and fidgeting with his tiny fingers to ponder. He went over the few hours he was alone in the empty dance room and first floor hallways of the enormous school. He recalled the silent halls, the dancing, the singing. Oh! The janitor. The janitor with a round belly and scraggly, white hair, wrinkles embellishing his chubby face, and a bright smile to complete his admirable personality. Only picturing his features, Jimin knew for a fact that it couldn't be innocent, old Mr. Cho who only seeked to do his job of mopping the floors. Right?
"Mr. Cho was with me—the after-school janitor. But it can't be him—he's just a cute old man doing his job. He doesn't have a reason to steal it."
"Then you're not thinking hard enough. Who was with you?" Eun pressed.
Yong finally understood what was happening. "Think harder!"
Jimin secured his eyes shut and thought further through every single detail. He remembered the flickering lights that stood on the popcorn ceilings and shown upon the beige tile floors that were damp in the soapy concoction that the janitor spread out on it. He remembered the clarity of the dance room mirrors and practicing his ballet that he was going to perform at prom. He recalled the smell of lemony bleach and cleaning supplies that lay on the bare foyers and plugging the USB drive into his laptop, and—oh, shit!
The shadow.
"Crap. What was that thing?"
"What, what?"
"I was listening to the recording, and then I saw this shadow outside the dance room. I thought it was just the lockers or something like that, but I guess not. I'm so dumb! I should've checked it out! Dammit!" He yowled, punching his bed and tossing his pastel pink pillows across his room in rage.
Eun sighed and brang a finger to her forehead to massage it in stress. Now Jimin was back to challenge his panic-attack streak as he went pacing across the room for what seemed like the trillionth time. Jimin then bolted out the room and began hurtling up and down the entire four-floor mansion, screaming gibberish and a sequence of curse words. His voice was shrill, sending a startling shiver down Eun's spine that was followed by a sigh.
"This crazy bitch. Yong, will you go fetch him?" Eun poked the plea. Yong nodded, dragging her panting pink-haired brother into the room.
"What now!" He demanded.
Jimin was fiddling with his fingers with his head drooped downwards. The pink-haired boy's pajamas were always hassling him because of the fact that he continued to stumble over them every time he walked. The fabric draped over his porcelain, short legs and past his knees to below his feet, making the material so long that Jimin couldn't even make a few steps without staggering over them and discovering that he was plunging down the circular stairs of their mansion. Next thing you know, poor Jimin is face down, flat on the carpets.
And that's just what happened.
Jimin ran out of his bedroom, when only a few minutes later Eun was alarmed with a 'Thud!' The mochi's painful groan could be heard all the way from the bottom floor to his pastel themed bedroom as the reverberation soared up the staircase and through Eun's light yellow headphones.
"Jesus, Jimin! That's it, I'm coming over. You need some mental remedy or something. Like, by that I mean help. And lots of it."
Eun slammed her laptop closed, and a few minutes later there were harsh knocks coming from the front door. Jimin helplessly crawled to the knob and there stood Eun. Her face was clearly displeased. "I was so worried you broke a bone that I came all the way here to your mansion to check on you. Your servants wouldn't even let me pass because they thought I was a kidnapper. You owe me a big ass meal." She declared with a light punch on the shorter's arm. Jimin followed her orders, guiding her towards the kitchen where their cook met them and served her Sundubu-jjigae in a pitch black bowl.
"Now help me out here!" Jimin whined.
"Gosh, what am I supposed to do? Go survey your entire school and ask if they were there last night?" She sarcastically suggested between bites of her Korean spicy tofu stew. Its texture was beyond her comprehension. Her tastebuds were in complete euphoria at the exquisite taste of her meal. Yong was literally hovering over her soup, her eyes begging for a bite. "And who the hell is your cook? I wouldn't hesitate to hire them as my personal chef because this stuff is good." She added with a pleasurable moan.
"Actually, that's not a bad idea. Help me survey all the students."
Eun choked on her stew. "Are you insane? "
"Yeah, of course I am. I'm Park Jimin! That name already screams insane."
"Well, the fact that all the pages in your diary are filled with Kim Taehyung does give an exception." She smirked.
"I hate you."
"I love you too!"
