𝐒𝐈𝐗𝐓𝐘 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

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[ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐗𝐓𝐘 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 ]

"Okay everyone," Hoseok said, clapping his hands together as he looked over everyone who he'd managed to congregate back at the field. "Count how many tokens you have and present them."

I could already feel the heat roasting my insides as a furious blush arose to my face. Getting two counters was bad enough but having one stolen was just downright embarrassin, especially when I was standing besides Jungkook who had spent a good twenty seconds emptying just his first pocket.

"Twelve," he announced proudly, flicking the last coin into the air, watching it spin before catching it again. As much as I loved and admired that boy, I couldn't help but roll my eyes at his outrageous boasting.

"Okay," Hoseok hummed, looking down at the piles of tokens carefully lined in front of each people. "Looks like Jungkook won with twelve and Hayeon and Jimin lost with one and zero."

In the background, I could hear Yoongi snigger as Jimin slapped him over the head, a pout taking over his face. The former boy had done surprisingly well to say that, before the game begun, he had very little enthusiasm and came out with a reasonable catch of nine. Namjoon had also done decently with seven tokens banked, landing in the middle place, whereas Jin and Taehyung both tied with four.

"How did you get zero, you idiot?" Yoongi scoffed, reveling in the other boy's humiliation.

"I couldn't get it out of the lake!" He whined in response, a downcast look on his face. It also didn't take long before the boy shuffled over to me, his feet dragging through the long grass. Looking up at me with wide, blinking eyes he asked me a question, chewing nervously on his bottom lip. "Please tell me you can cook."

Freezing in my spot, I looked away sheepishly before mumbling out a feeble, "no."

Jimin groaned loudly, holding his head in his hands as he let out an obvious display of despair. "We're screwed."

Let's just say that Jimin couldn't have been anymore correct.

The first obstacle came along before we'd even begun to actually cook anything. Yoongi had kindly lit the fire and we were prepared to put the beef strips and pork belly onto the fire only to realise that we had absolutely no idea how to do it. Did we use foil? Did we put the lid of the barbecue down? It was one large mystery.

At the end of our endless internal debating Jin came over, waving a skewer as though he was a composer or a lecturer. He told us the instructions on how to prepare the meat which although, I didn't want to admit, blew over my head but luckily Jimin seemed to understand and we finally managed to get the food prepared for cooking.

Then we faced the waiting game as we were forced to stand patiently, watching the meat carefully to ensure that it didn't overcook or burn. I could tell Jimin was already getting bored as he was drawing shapes in the dirt with his foot and consistently sighed obnoxiously.

"How are you two doing?" Taehyung said, walking over, peering down at the flames and breathing in the scent. "It smells decent. I was quite alarmed when I heard that Jimin would be cooking."

"You can't say anything," I said, shooing him away with an oven mitt that I'd insisted on wearing for my own safety. "If it weren't for you, I might not even be in this situation at all."

Taehyung pulled up a chair, slumped into it before putting his feet up comfortably. "Trust me, I'd rather it be you than me."

Jimin joined in the conversation, his eyes glazed slightly as though he was remembering something. "He's got a point. The last time he did some cooking, he burnt down three cupboards before we could extinguish the fire."

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