~Jimin~
Yoongi hangs up the phone, shaking his head in exasperation.
"Well?" I ask, sitting up from my couch.
"The good news is, my teacher wasn't as stupid as I guessed. I think the misunderstanding with your pictures was mostly due to a mixup in the dance department." He runs a hand through his hair, "but that sill doesn't mean Mr. Ahn was blameless in this."
I pat the seat beside me. Yoongi has been trying to get in contact with Mr. Ahn for most of the day. It took all my resources to keep him from snapping, and now that he has his answer, I'm surprised he's taking it so calmly. "What did he say?" I ask.
The photographer sighs, coming to sit at my side. For a moment, I am distracted by the feel of his leg brushing against mine, but I force myself to concentrate. "You heard me explain the situation to him, right?" He asks.
"Yeah." I respond, biting my lip nervously. Yoongi wasn't rude to his professor over the phone, but I wish he had been a little less forceful.
"Well, he sent me this..." the photographer says, pulling up a page on his phone screen. "Read it."
I squint at the scantly worded message. "Dear Mr. Lee," glancing up at Yoongi, I explain that Mr. Lee is the director of the dance academy.
"Yeah, I got that." The photographer responds. "This is an email from my teacher to yours. Keep going."
Clearing my throat obediently, I refocus my attention on the email. "Here are some samples of Min Yoongi's work with your student, Park Jimin. There will be more pictures to come." Frowning, I read the email again. "That's it?"
"That's it." Yoongi confirms.
"Hmmmm." I say, frowning down at the message. "It doesn't really say that Mr. Lee can't use the pictures...but you would think he would take the hint that they are only samples."
"Exactly." Yoongi says, nodding at me. "Mr. Ahn said he only sent the photos so that the dance director would know what to expect of my work...but I he should have worded things more clearly."
"So...let me get this straight then." I say. "You sent the pictures to Mr. Ahn so that he could give you feedback. He sent them to Mr. Lee, and presumably, Mr. Lee forwarded them on to Ji, who didn't know better than to use them as my promotional images."
"I'm pretty sure that's how it went." Yoongi nods. "We're meeting Ji at eight to talk about the mixup. I should be able to sort it out with her then."
"You mean I should be able to sort it out." I correct him.
"Sure." Yoongi smirks. "I'll let you do all the talking then, won't I?"
I can tell he's teasing, but to be honest, it's a relief to have someone like Yoongi around. I'm not saying I can't deal with my own problems, but I have a tendency to overthink things. At least with him at my side, I know I won't need to carry the whole conversation.
"I'm going to touch up some of our pictures before we go." Yoongi says, glancing down at my watch. "We have...three hours until the meeting. Do you want to help me, or is there something else you need to do?"
I bite my lip. Ever since I found him in my apartment, Yoongi's mood has been subject to an endless cycle of extremes. I don't want to leave him alone, but the dance studio is mine from five to nine, and I need to practice my choreography.
Noticing my expression, the photographer nods his head. "It's okay, I can handle myself on my own if you need to go somewhere."
"Are you sure?" I ask, watching him in trepidation. "It's only dance practice."
"I'm sure." The photographer replies immediately. "Your performance is coming up. Be ready for it, okay?"
"Okay." I reply, swallowing down my apprehension.
It takes me a few minutes to change into my dance clothes. If I hurry, I can make it to the studio by five thirty. "You're sure I can leave?" I confirm, poking my head into the living room.
"Yeah." Yoongi responds, turning around to face me. For a moment, I see his eyes roving over my outfit. "Hey...didn't I get that for you?" he asks, pointing at the white cotton shirt.
"Yeah..." I respond, looking down at my top. "I would wear the pants too, but I'm scared to stain them." My lips turn up into a shy grin. "Actually, I'm using those as pyjamas right now."
For a moment, I see the photographer's expression soften. "Well." He grunts, turning back to his computer. "I'm glad my money wasn't wasted then."
I want to say something else, maybe about how thankful I am, but time is ticking by, and I need to make the most out of my practice. I walk out into the hall, draping a light coat over my shoulders. "I'll meet you at Ji's office at eight, okay?"
"Sure...and Jimin." Yoongi adds, stopping me in the doorway.
I turn to look at him.
"Don't forget to eat, okay? Let's both swear we'll have a good meal before going to Ji's."
I feel a rush of panic. I already had lunch with Yoongi this afternoon. If I eat too much more, I'll loose the progress I've been making with my weight.
Yoongi's eyes never leave mine, and I can tell he's waiting for my response.
"Okay..." I say, forcing a weak smile. "I swear."
I walk out of the house without another word, trying to contain my anxiety. Why does Yoongi care what I eat?
I just want to loose ten pounds before my performance. If I can do that, I'll be able to stand confidently in front of the audience, without worrying about what I look like. As soon as I have lost ten pounds, I'll be able to think better of myself, but right now, I can't afford to compromise my diet.
Still, lying to Yoongi is worse than overeating.
I stop at a roadside stand, picking out an apple and a bag of nuts. The university is a fifteen minute walk from my house. If I increase my pace, I'll be able to count this as a warm up for my dance practice.
Transitioning into a brisk jog, I feel my heart rate start to elevate.
It doesn't take long to reach the dance studio. Checking my watch, I calculate that I have two and a half hours to practice before our meeting. I bite my lip, determined to make the best of it.
The time whittles by, but more and more, I find myself loosing focus on my choreography. The only thing I can think about is my reflection in the mirror. The way my cheeks squish when I lean down, the soft build of my fingers, even my pathetic height...it's all disgusting.
Cursing, I force myself through a set of rigorous dance routines. According to the rules of my diet, I'm allowed to have one small meal a day. The lack of food makes exercising a delirious hell, but I refuse to let my system rest. This will all pay off in the end...
Suddenly, my dancing is interrupted by a knock at the door. Glancing towards my reflection, I feel a spike of insecurity. I look pale and sweaty, the clinging fabric of my clothes amplifying every small imperfection. Whoever it is outside, I don't want them to see me like this.
A dark head pokes in through the door. "Can I come in?"
I look up in time to see Yoongi's eyes passing over my tired form. Blushing, I signal for him to enter.
"I know it's still twenty minutes until the meeting," the photographer says, "but I finished my work at home and...well, I thought I would come watch you."
"You shouldn't have..." I say, running a hand through my sodden hair. Yoongi's gaze never strays from mine. "I mean, I'm practically done. I was going to take a break to eat and then clean myself up before going to Ji's."
"That's probably a good idea." The photographer replies, nodding at me.
"Plus..." I say, looking over his outfit. "You look really professional. I should try not to seem too messy in contrast."
"Do I seem like I mean business?" Yoongi asks, straightening the folds of his shirt.
The photographer is wearing a white button up top and dark pants. If I didn't know better, I would think he was going to a tense family reunion. "I don't think Ji cares about that sort of stuff, but yeah, you look very professional." Laughing, I pat his hair into a stiff centre part. "Especially now..."
The photographer pulls a sour grin. "Oh yeah. With this look, I could be asking your father to bless our relationship."
For a moment, my expression freezes. Did Yoongi just say what I think he did?
"Heyyy." I splutter, hiding my surprise at his comment. "My dad isn't a snob. Get him a gift and I'm sure he'll be okay with anything."
"Speaking of which, I brought you an outfit too." The photographer says, turning quickly away from me. Rummaging in the folds of his bag, he pulls out a bundle of soft material. "Try these on."
"Here?" I choke.
Yoongi rolls his eyes. "Are there no change rooms in this academy? Go get yourself cleaned up and put on the goddamned outfit. Here, catch." He adds, throwing the clothes at me.
Grabbing for the bundle of material, I hurry across the hall to change. After maybe fifteen minutes have passed, I return to find Yoongi napping on the studio floor. He sits up, cocking his head at me. "What took you so long?"
"There's this thing called sweat Yoongi." I say, rolling my eyes at him. "It's what happens when you get exercise. Ever experienced that?"
"Never." Yoongi replies, his expression one of of mock severity. "And I hope I never will."
Standing up, he throws his arm over my shoulders, turning me towards the mirror. "What do you think?"
For the first time, I notice that our outfits are coordinated perfectly. "We're wearing matching clothes now?" I remark, disguising a broad grin.
"They were buy one, get one free." The photographer explains, turning around to face me. "I don't think you got the shirt collar right though..."
"What?" I laugh. "I've worn like, a million dress shirts. Of course I got the collar right."
"No...let me fix it." Yoongi grunts, toying with the soft fabric.
I cock my head at him, biting my lip in amusement. "Don't we have to be at the meeting soon?"
"Shit." The photographer replies, glancing down at my watch. "Isn't Ji's office like, across campus or something?"
"Yeah."
"Then we have to hurry." Grabbing my wrist, he tugs me towards the door.
"Yoongi, wait." I say, trotting after him. "I thought you said my collar was crooked."
"Pfft, that was just an excuse." The photographer replies, picking up his pace.
"An excuse to do what?" I ask.
"I don't know." He smirks. "I hadn't figured that out yet..."