twenty four

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"change that shit!"

jihoon's ears were covered as music blasted out of the living room speakers. it didn't help that the song that was playing was something from a group he didn't know and minghao left the bass to the highest setting. so the music was high enough that he was surprised the neighbors haven't complained yet, and the house was just about shaking as well.

"it's not my fault you don't like bts!" minghao yelled back, barely being heard over the music.

"why do you have the bass all the way up, though? do you want the neighbors to form an angry mob?"

"i guess so!"

---

"hey, are they having a party or something?"

soonyoung, junhui, and seungcheol were walking down the street towards minghao and jihoon's shared home. soonyoung bounded across the sidewalk with three boxes in his hands while the older two walked behind him.

"and i wasn't invited? wow, i'm hurt," junhui gasped sarcastically.

"the only one of us that would be invited is me," seungcheol mumbled, nudging junhui softly. "at least i'm on everybody's good side."

"what makes you think i'm not?"

"jeonghan and jihoon basically want you dead, and seungkwan avoids you like the plague. it's obvious you're not."

soonyoung hopped up the porch steps and looked back at the other two, who were about five feet behind them. "come on! the pizza's getting cold. and i don't want them getting mad at us for getting them a cold peace offering!"

"be patient, you asshole," junhui said, the two finally catching up to him. he came up to the doorstep and rang the doorbell and knocked on the door sharply.

the door opened a minute later to reveal jihoon. the short boy looked over all three and took the pizza boxes out of soonyoung's hands. he pointed at soonyoung and seungcheol and pointed inside the house, opening the door wider to let them in. the two looked over at junhui before walking inside.

"you," jihoon started, poking junhui harshly in the chest, "can go back to seungcheol's house." and he shut the door.

"but his house is seven blocks away!" junhui complained. he stood on the pavement in front of the door, pouting, until he saw the curtain ruffle back and jihoon popped up on the other side of the glass. he held a piece of paper against the window with one hand that had 'not my problem' scrawled in large handwriting across it and his middle finger was proudly displayed on the other until he moved back and closed the curtain.

guess jihoon really did want him dead.

---

hey you should read my book 'burlesque' its gnna b lit

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