"promise" YOONKOOK

+chapter four+

NOW PRESENTING + 10:26 AM, SEPTEMBER 1

Yoongi sighs when he walks down the stairs in the morning to find a man sitting on the couch smoking a cigarette. This stranger is definitely not his dad, who he hasn't seen in three or so months. At this point, Yoongi has stopped wondering when he'll be back. He moves quietly behind the couch and into the kitchen where his mother is pouring two bottles of wine. He wrinkles his nose. "Who's he?" Yoongi asks, gagging slightly when the smoke from the man's cigarette reaches his throat.

"None of your business," his mother retorts, picking up the wine glasses and sending him a sharp look. She's wearing her best dress, the one she usually wears when she has male company. Yoongi hates the screaming red color. "You know the drill. I don't want to see you for the rest of the weekend. I'll give you ten minutes to pack up whatever you need, and then I want you out of the house."

Groaning quietly, Yoongi watches his mother with disgust as she heads toward the man with her hips swaying in what is supposed to be a sexy way. The stranger pulls her down for a heated kiss, slapping her ass for good measure. The whole scene makes Yoongi want to barf.

He hasn't thought of his mother as his mother in a very long time.

The thirteen-year-old races upstairs, grabbing his black backpack and tossing it onto his bed. Yes, he knows the drill all too well.

With his father never at home, his mother puts all kinds of men on that stupid couch and entertains them for the weekend. Yoongi is old enough to understand what they're doing when he leaves, although he wishes that he was an ignorant little kid. Then maybe it wouldn't be so hard for Yoongi to deal with everything. He tosses a change of clothes into the bag, as well as the snow globe his father had given him for his ninth birthday.

Yoongi shoves his emergency one hundred dollar bill into his back pocket just in case, pulls on his shoes, then makes his way once again down the stairs and out the door.

NOW PRESENTING + 11:51 AM, SEPTEMBER 1, cont.

"This cake is the giantest cake I've ever seen in my whole entire life!" Jungkook screeches, standing on the tips of his toes to admire the cake sitting in front of him. His father chuckles as he removes the candles.

Taehyung pokes Namjoon, making him look down at the shorter. "Joonie-hyung, you have to get me a good piece of cake with only chocolate icing on it. I don't want that nasty blue stuff. No sprinkles, either. They're gross. And make sure it's a big piece, okay?"

"I know, Tae," he replies, and Yoongi smiles at their interaction. "I've been to enough parties with you. You're really picky. I almost can't believe it."

Even if his mother hadn't mercilessly kicked him out of the house for the remainder of the weekend, Yoongi was still going to go out because it's Jungkook's birthday, and he'd been invited to the now ten-year-old's house. Although he does regret coming. The birthday boy keeps screaming loud enough for the green aliens living on Mars to hear it. He has a feeling he's going to have to deal with a headache later.

"Alright, Kookie, why don't we open your presents now, and then we'll eat the cake afterwards?" Mrs. Jeon asks, despite already knowing the answer to her question. Jungkook makes a beeline for the mini mountain of presents stacked next to the brick fireplace with Taehyung and Namjoon hot on his heels. It takes two reminders from his parents to make the brat say thank you before he starts ripping into the wrapping paper, and Yoongi wants to laugh when he hears them whispering to each other about sending him to a private school to learn manners. They definitely have the money for it.

Jungkook's face lights up when he sees a large present with Yoongi's name written on it in ink. "Yoongi-hyung, it's giant! Is there a baby elephant in here?" he questions with a suspicious tone in his voice.

"As if," Yoongi snorts, plopping himself down on the white couch. He smiles as Jungkook rips into the wrapping paper. "You want me to cut the tape on the box for you?" His question receives an eager nod, and Yoongi whips his pocket knife out without a second thought, flipping the blade into place. Jungkook watches in awe as he cuts through the pesky tape holding the flaps of the cardboard box together.

"Do your parents know you have that weapon, Yoongi?" Mrs. Jeon asks, eyeing him wearily with a frown of disapproval.

Yoongi grins, waving it around in the air just to scare the poor woman. Her face turns white. "Nope," he chirps, finally closing it and hiding it away again just in time to save Mrs. Jeon from a heart attack.

"Holy cow!" Jungkook screeches as he opens the box. "It's my very own bike!"

Namjoon whistles in amazement. "It's got a fresh coat of paint and everything!" he exclaims. "Nice, hyung."

"Min Yoongi, I told you not to give him that old bike of yours," Mr. Jeon says, shaking his head with a sigh. "He'll be riding through traffic, and he could hurt himself. Did you even bother to get him a helmet, or do you not care about his health?"

Yoongi likes Mrs. Jeon, but Mr. Jeon gets on his nerves.

It takes all of his willpower to keep himself from laughing. "I learned how to ride a bike when I was seven, and without a helmet. Those things are useless," he says. "Jungkook is ten and he still hasn't touched a bike in his whole life. I get that you guys are rich, but that doesn't mean you have to keep him inside instead of letting him go out with the small risk that he might get a scrape or two. I sprained my arm when I was four from falling out of a tree, and I almost stabbed my eye out with a stick when I was nine. I don't see any scars on Kookie."

Jungkook's grandmother places her hand on her son's shoulder. "Hwan, he's right," she says softly. "I get that you're worried about Jungkook getting hurt, but it's a little excessive if you won't take him to the park because squirrels could attack him. That's the craziest thing I've ever heard."

Mr. Jeon ignores his mother's words. "That's because unlike your parents, Yoongi, we actually care for our kid."

Forcing a smile in the awkward silence, Yoongi does what he's best at: pretending that he's too tough for emotions. He turns back to Jungkook, who is looking at him sadly. Yoongi isn't sure how much of the conversation he understood, but he must understand enough. "Kookie, you want me to teach you how to ride that bike? It's really easy."

i sit with a group
at the lunch table
made up of some
of my female
classmates, and
we call ourselves
the 'sexy six.'
i came up with
the name.