Bonjour//Jikook

Secrets

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Jimin's POV

I sit at a table with Eunwoo, watching with sparkling eyes as the third years file out of the building of lunch. (They eat lunch outside) Taehyung laughs with his friends, and jokes about something I don't understand, when suddenly that girl comes to talk to him. She's the same one who was with him that day I hit Sehun in the nose; the same one who was with him on that park bench. 

"Can we talk?" I hear her say, tucking her hair behind her ear as she leads him away from his friends. 

They stand and chat for a while, the girl becoming more and more frustrated. 

"I'm sorry, things just aren't working out for us." He says and suddenly he growls, grabbing a drink off of one of the tables before throwing it into Taehyung's face. 

"How's this working out for you?!" She shouts and briskly walks away from him, a tear in her eye.

His shirt is soaked...making it so that I can see his beautiful body under that confining shirt. He wipes the water from his face, and sighs as he looks back at his friends who all are laughing at him. 

Just then he looks toward me. My heart stutters, but I can't seem to look away. 

He shrugs at me, almost as if to say, you can't win them all. His runs his hand through his now wet hair; the left over droplets of water sliding down his perfected biceps-

"Don't do that." Eunwoo suddenly says, making me jump. 

"D-Do what?" I ask. 

"I saw you..." He says, "watching...." He sips some of his drink.

"W-Well what's so wrong with watching him?" I ask. 

He sits up, tipping down his sun glasses, as he glares at me. "Don't play with me....I mean it....leave him alone."

"You say that as if you like him." I chuckle. 

"No..I just know that his specialty is heartbreak, and I don't want to be here when you're sobbing your eyes out over him." He says bluntly. 

".....But I mean....would it be so bad?" I ask. 

"Dude!" He suddenly shouts at me. "He's...." He looks around, lowering his voice before he leans toward me. "....he's my brother."

"He's your what?!" I gasp. 

"Shhh...." He slaps my shoulder. "Keep your voice down."

"But...why am I just hearing about this now?" I ask. 

"Well, when I say brother...I mean, he's more like my half brother. We have different moms." He takes another drink of his soda. "I don't like people know that he's my brother, it makes people expect me to try harder." He confesses. 

"So then...I guess it's kind of embarrassing for me to be checking out your brother, huh?"

"Only a lot." He says as he leans back into his chair. 

I sigh. Why me? I mean, Eunwoo is great and all, and I really enjoy his company but....his brother is just so fucking hot....

~Afternoon Classes~

Practicing classical ballet is very important to me, the most important in fact. However, the school is The Foreign Academy of Dance, not the Foreign Academy of Ballet. 

"Hey what's going on, guys?" The teacher greets us as we enter the room. Everyone here speaks in French, but not him. He's from New York, which means you gotta brush up on your English if you're in his class. 

We free style for a good hour of class, just getting hyped up and ready to dance. This is when I really shine. I'm particularly skilled at rolling my body, I always have been. It feels good to get recognized for something you're good at...

Suddenly Sehun is pushed into the center of our class, our eyes are all on him. 

"I don't do hip hop." He groans, cocking his eyebrow at the teacher. 

"Then I guess it's dance or die for you, Sehun." The teacher retorts. 

With a groan, Sehun proceeds to show us all the extent of his extremely well thought out....organized...synchronized...awful dance moves to ever be done on the face of this Earth. At one point, someone just pulls him out of the center so we don't all cringe and leave class. 

~That Night~

As I finish my evening jog, rounding back toward the dorms, I suddenly catch sight of a dark haired man and woman. 

I recognize Mr. Jeon right away, but it takes me a second to realize that the girl he's with is the same one from the other day. 

Didn't she say she was leaving town? I think to myself.

"It's crazy how time has passed." I hear her say. I suddenly decide that I'm going to choose a spot just a few steps behind them to stretch my legs....and listen to their conversation. 

"It's true." Mr. Jeon chuckles. "It feels like only yesterday we were playing Romeo and Juliet."

I have to bite my lip from gasping. That's the girl who played Juliet?!

"I know." She laughs angelically. "...I can't believe you can't dance anymore." She suddenly says, making the mood take a dark turn. Mr. Jeon says nothing, but his posture stiffens. "...I mean...we used to be the best. Now look at us...I'm retired and you're a teacher at the academy."

"...I...I don't really want to talk about those days." He says, his voice low. "I already have to look at that ugly scar on my leg every day, reminding me that life is unfair and dreams are only temporary." He sounds so sad, my heart goes out to him.

"But-"

"Mr. Park?" I gasp as I suddenly realize I've been caught. 

"O-Oh...Mr. Jeon." I chuckle nervously. "Is that you?"

"....obviously it's me." 

"O-Oh..well....it's pretty late so I um...I better get back to the dorms. Don't want to be out past curfew right?" Quickly I jog away from them. 

As I lay in bed that night, my  mind won't stop racing about what I heard Mr. Jeon say, and my feet won't stop aching. 

I groan and get out of bed, searching in my duffel bag for that foot creme Mr. Jeon gave me, but it's no where to be found. 

"Aish..." I mumble. "I bet a left it in the studio."

Silently I leave my room, tip toeing into our classroom building, and to Mr. Jeon's studio. 

Everything is dark, and creepy looking, which makes me shudder.

As I walk to his door, pulling it open softly. I'm met with a sight that I never thought I would see a day in my life. 

Mr. Jeon stands in the center of the room, dressed in proper dancing attire, however...he isn't dancing, he's only staring. 

His body is a masterpiece, one that I can't seem to stop staring at. He turns from side to side, looking at himself, but as his eyes fall to his left ankle, he curses.

"This is all your fault." He whispers angrily to a large surgical scar which goes all the way up, and over, and under his ankle, and half way up his calf. Gently he turns, and stops...freezing in place as we make eye contact. 

"S-Sorry I was just-"

"What are you doing in here?" He asks, coldly. Hurrying to his seat, where he pulls on some sweat pants. "You don't have the studio booked tonight. Why are you here?!" He asks, sounding frantic.

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