Chapter Text
Seokjin picked up the pot of reheated ramen, and added the usual store-bought toppings; some boiled eggs, a sprinkle of green onions, and a single slice of processed cheese. He adjusted the garnish with chopsticks like a chef plating for a cooking show, even though their kitchen was the size of a closet and their ingredients could barely fill a corner store shelf. Still, he tried to make it look as appetizing as possible. Presentation mattered. Especially when you had almost nothing to work with.
Ever since moving into the dorm with the other boys, Seokjin had become painfully aware of how terrible their diets were. The younger ones often skipped meals altogether, trading food for more hours in the practice room, convinced they could survive on adrenaline and stubbornness. The older ones weren’t much better. They didn’t skip food. However they just made deeply questionable choices.
He still hadn’t recovered from The Chicken Smoothie Incident.
He shuddered slightly at the memory. Yoongi, bleary-eyed and sleep-deprived, standing in the kitchen in the dead of night. Two boiled chicken breasts. A banana. Some yogurt. A blender. Seokjin had walked in just in time to witness the moment Yoongi added a handful of frozen berries with the determination of a man committing a crime he fully intended to deny. The sound it made haunts him to this day.
After that, Seokjin decided someone had to intervene. And if no one else was going to take the job, it might as well be him. It was a small thing really, but it grounded him. Gave him a way to contribute, quietly, in the background. A way to feel like he wasn’t just taking up space. Like he wasn’t a burden the others had to carry.
The microwave pinged behind him, distracting him from his thoughts. Seokjin grabbed the steamed dumplings and transferred them to a plastic tray, arranging them like a little sampler platter. He slid on his pink fluffy slippers, then balanced the tray(carrying the ramen pot too) in his hands and carefully headed back toward the common room.
The space wasn’t large. Just a few feet between the couch and the wall, with a low table pushed to the center and the blankets still crumpled in the corners from earlier. But it had become their converted dining room for the evening supper.
Jimin and Jungkook sat on one side of the table, and on the other side were Hoseok and Taehyung. As Seokjin approached with the tray, Jimin stood up without a word and took it from his hands, setting it down gently before sliding back into his spot. It was a small gesture, but enough to let Seokjin settle in at the end of the table without awkwardness.
“Where are the others?” Seokjin glanced around, finally realizing the absence of the two members.
Hoseok leaned forward slightly, chopsticks poised over his bowl. “Namjoon’s stuck in some meeting with management. Something about concept discussions, album stuff. He didn’t say much. Just grabbed his notebook and disappeared.”
Seokjin nodded slowly. “And Yoongi?”
At this, Hoseok paused, as if trying to recall something that hadn’t quite made sense. “He left in a hurry. Didn’t say where he was going. Just muttered something about needing fresh air and then sprinted out the studio.”
Taehyung chimed in with his mouth full, “He also took one of the good umbrellas.”
“Wait, the green one?” Jimin frowned.
“Yup! The green one,” Taehyung confirmed. “Hyung better not lose it.”
“Oh then I have to warm up the frozen kimchi for them,” Seokjin sighed. Everyone grabbed a noodle bowl and started serving themselves directly from the pot. The steam curling into the air and their chopsticks clicking in anticipation.
“Thanks for the food,” Jimin murmured as always, head bowed slightly before slurping his first bite.
“So delicious,” Taehyung groaned with his mouth full, his eyes fluttering shut like he was being spiritually transported.
Jungkook didn’t say a word. But the way his eyebrows pinched together in a frown, was proof he felt the same way as Taehyung.
For a few minutes, the table fell into a kind of silence, filled with the rhythm of chopsticks clicking against bowls and soft slurps echoing in the small room.
Hoseok cracked open a can of soda, the sharp hiss briefly breaking the lull. He unlocked his phone with one hand, casually scrolling as he drank. Then he suddenly choked.
“Pffft—what the—!”
He set the soda down, coughing into his sleeve as the others startled.
“What did you do to our account today?!” Hoseok demanded, staring at his screen like it had personally offended him.
Everyone blinked. Jimin’s chopsticks paused mid-lift. Even Taehyung, who was in the middle of slurping a particularly long noodle, paused. Then he swallowed.
“We uploaded a photo of Jimin,” he said slowly, now sounding unsure. “Why? What happened? Did something go wrong?”
Hoseok didn’t answer at first. His mouth opened, then closed again, trying to find the words. Seokjin became concerned, and a flicker of panic started to settle in him.
Then, with a slow grin spreading across his face, Hoseok turned the screen to face the others.
“We’re going viral,” he announced.
They all leaned in, heads bumping together like curious puppies. On the screen, the post Taehyung had uploaded earlier was blowing up. Over 10,000 likes, more than a 1000 comments, and the number kept rising with every second.
“Wait, seriously?” Jimin asked, his voice small, stunned.
Taehyung gasped. “I told you that photo was gold!”
Seokjin blinked, genuinely caught off guard. His hand still rested on the ladle, hovering absentmindedly over the pot. He hadn’t expected… well, any of this.
Jungkook leaned in, reading the comments with wide eyes. “Someone called Jimin ‘the next generation’s visual fairy.’”
Taehyung whooped, throwing an arm around Jimin’s shoulders and shaking him. “Visual god! Look at you, Jiminie! We’re about to be famous.”
“I didn’t even pose properly,” Jimin mumbled, cheeks turning pink.
“So many comments are asking us our debut date,” Hoseok added in cheerful tone, as he turned back his screen and continued scrolling.
Seokjin relaxed once again, the ball of nerves already untangling themselves. A quiet smile tugged at the corners of his lips.
“It’s all thanks to hyung!” Taehyung announced proudly.
“Hyung?” Hoseok questioned, looking confused.
“Yes. Seokjin hyung! Did you know he’s an actor, Hobi-hyung? That’s why he’s so handsome and knows so much about photography. He took one photo of Jimin. Just one. And look at the response. People love it! He’s really amazing.”
“Oh really?!”
Seokjin’s face flushed instantly, color rising all the way to the tips of his ears. “It’s not a big deal,” he mumbled, eyes dropping to the table. “Jimin already looked beautiful. I just… pressed the button.”
“Come on now. No need to humble yourself, Seokjin-ssi,” Hoseok said offhandedly, eyes still fixed on his phone. It was the kind of comment that slipped out without much thought. But for Seokjin, it landed with surprising weight. Something about it settled in his chest, unfamiliar and warm, like the quiet recognition of being seen.
“This is crazy!” Hoseok went on, brows climbing higher with every scroll. “We used to get, what? 20, maybe 50 likes on a good day. Now we’ve crossed 5000 followers, and it’s still going up.”
Taehyung leaned in, eyes gleaming. “Read the comments. Read the nice ones.”
“Okay, okay.” Hoseok flicked through the feed, skimming. “‘Who is this? He’s too pretty, it’s unfair.’ ‘Tell me their debut date so I can start stanning immediately.’ ‘I don’t know who he is, but I’d let him ruin my life.’” He raised his brows. “Okay, that one might be a little much.”
Jungkook snorted into his soda, nearly choking. And Jimin turned pink again.
It was rare to see Hoseok like this. Giddy, a little breathless, like he was trying not to get too excited but couldn’t help himself. Normally, he was the one who held everything together. Structured. Calm. Focused. But right now, even he was allowing himself this small win.
And honestly, they all needed it.
The past few weeks had been uncertain. Their debut date was still unconfirmed, and the album wasn’t ready. Some of their recordings had been scrapped altogether. Most of their days blurred into one another. Practice, more practice, cold convenience store dinners, and the silent hope that something would work out.
Their small, unknown, and under-resourced label offered little in terms of promotion. Other groups had marketing teams, TV appearances, industry buzz. They had none of that. When morale was low and hopes were thinner than their budget, Namjoon had suggested starting their own social media accounts. “Even if just one new person sees us each day,” he said, “that’s still worth something.”
At the time, it felt like grasping at straws. But now… now there was a spark. Somehow, this one photo had pushed them onto the trending page. Something they never imagined reaching during their debut, let alone their pre-debut.
Seokjin didn’t say much after that. He just listened, smiled where it felt right, and let their voices fill the space around him. There was still so much to worry about. But for now, he let himself feel the same hope Hoseok seemed to be full off.
———————————-
Seokjin woke to the sound of something crashing in the kitchen. He was a light sleeper, always had been. So even the smallest noise was enough to pull him out of rest. Someone was definitely out there. He reached under his pillow for his phone, blinking against the brightness as he checked the time.
2:06 am.
With a soft sigh, he sat up and looked around their cramped bedroom. The younger members were still fast asleep, undisturbed by the noise, lost in dreams. Two beds were empty. Which meant it was either Namjoon or Yoongi.
He slipped on his pink slippers and padded quietly toward the kitchen. The light was already on, casting a warm glow across the small space. Namjoon stood by the microwave, watching the plate turn with quiet focus. He turned around as Seokjin entered, as if he’d sensed him coming all along.
“Seokjin-shi,” Namjoon said, a little sheepish, his voice laced with guilt. He must’ve known his late-night noise had woken someone up.
“Did you just get back?”
“Yeah,” Namjoon replied with a tired smile. “It’s been a long day. Or night, I guess.” He glanced at the microwave. “Just warming up some of the kimchi you made.”
Seokjin looked at Namjoon. He had dark circles under his eyes, his face drawn with exhaustion. He looked like someone carrying more than just a long day. Like the weight of something much heavier had settled on his shoulders. Seokjin wanted to ask, to help ease whatever was pressing down on him, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, he moved quietly to the fridge, opened it, and took out a bottle of water, sipping slowly to fill the silence and distract himself.
The microwave beeped, loud and final. Namjoon opened the door and pulled out the plate, the smell of warm kimchi filling the small kitchen. He stood there for a moment, paused, just staring at the food like he’d lost his appetite.
Seokjin took a breath, the kind that trembled a little on the way out. He wasn’t sure how to say it, but he couldn’t walk away either.
“Namjoon-shi… is everything okay?”
Namjoon didn’t respond at first. His fingers tightened slightly around the plate, and for a second, Seokjin thought he wouldn’t answer. But then, almost like he was afraid of hearing the words himself, Namjoon replied, “I don’t know.”
He finally looked up.
“I keep wondering if I made the wrong choice,” he admitted. “Trying to be a rapper in an idol group. Putting myself out there like this. What if I can’t live up to what they expect from me? What if I disappoint everyone? The company… the fans… even worse all of you.”
Seokjin didn’t say anything right away. He stepped closer, his hand wrapping around the bottle of water from the fridge. Then he turned back to Namjoon and said quietly, “You’re not the only one who’s scared, you know.”
Namjoon blinked.
“I’m terrified too,” Seokjin went on, his voice steady despite the lump in his throat. “Of not being good enough. Of holding everyone back. Of being the one weak link in a chain that’s already straining. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that fear doesn’t mean you’re doing something wrong. It means you care.”
He paused, letting the silence settle between them.
“You’re not alone in this. We’re all figuring it out as we go. But we’ll get there. Together.”
Namjoon looked down again, his shoulders sinking a little, but in relief. The tension in his frame eased, just enough for him to breathe.
“Oh… by the way,” Seokjin said, voice lighter this time. “Did you see the photo we posted earlier? The one of Jimin?”
Namjoon glanced up mid-bite, eyebrows raised. “Yeah, Hobi texted me. It blew up, didn’t it?”
Seokjin nodded, the corner of his mouth twitching with a trace of pride. “Over ten thousand likes. Thousands of comments. People are already asking when we’re debuting. It’s kind of surreal.”
Namjoon smiled, small but genuine. “That’s really good… especially for them. Jimin, Jungkook, Taehyung. I think they needed something like that. To feel seen. You did a good thing.”
Seokjin shrugged, but the warmth in Namjoon’s words stayed with him. He didn’t really know how to take the compliment, but hearing it from Namjoon, the leader of their group, meant more than he could explain.
“Oh,” Namjoon added, as if remembering something. “Speaking of… the company wants to see you tomorrow. Something about a meeting. I think it’s just you.”
Seokjin blinked. “Me?”
Namjoon nodded. “Yeah. Don’t worry, they didn’t say it was bad or anything. I think they just want to talk. Maybe it’s about the photo, who knows.”
Seokjin didn’t reply right away. His mind buzzed with possibilities, none of which he could quite pin down.
Once he saw that Namjoon looked a little better and had started eating, he turned to head back to bed. But just as he reached the doorway, Namjoon called out, “Seokjin-shi.”
He paused and turned.
“Can I call you hyung?” Namjoon asked, a little flustered, eyes dropping to the floor.
Seokjin blinked, caught off guard. “I—yeah. I don’t mind.”
Namjoon smiled then, dimples showing, something softer settling in his eyes. “Thank you, hyung. I needed this.”
Seokjin gave a small nod and walked away.
Back in bed, staring up at the ceiling, he smiled softly, wondering what magic he has casted to have two members call him their big brother already. Maybe, just maybe, being part of this group was the start of something good after all.