Hey Jimin, sorry for keeping you up till this early in the morning but I just pulled into your apartment complex. Text me when you get down and I'll get out to properly meet you.

  Minseok sighed and rubbed his bare face, trying to hopefully rub the stress and exhaustion that clearly stained his young face. It took him several hours of driving through traffic just to get to Seoul with the ocassional rest stops to use the restroom, eat, do what he wanted. He sits in silence, his car turned off to conserve gas and the cold outside seeping in slowly. His phone beams bright, the faint sound of his text tone disturbing the quietness rudely. He glances down at it, reading the text message.

  Kim Jim (SEOUL): Hey! I'm on my way down! I'm wearing a green hoodie just so you'll know! 

  His phone screen dulled and eventually turned off, leaving Minseok back in the darkness that surrounded him before. He sighs, settling his forehead against the steering wheel, closing his eyes and groaning at the sting that erupts behind his eyelids. He stays there for a minute, taking in the now crisp, cool air in his car and the dull cricket sounds outside of his car, rustling in the bushes on the other side of the parking lot. Minseok inhales sharply, sitting up and staring at the apartment wall in the distance. As much as he had wanted to leave his stuffy house and the small city where he had been born and grew up, Minseok still loves everyone he had met there. His parents, his dog, his friends, hell even his almost monstrous college professors; he misses them all. He hadn't even moved in yet, but the home sickness already has settled in, making his heart heavy with an emotion close to regret and his stomach empty yet sick. A dull knock placed on his car window pulled him out of his thoughts, his eyes dragging from the off white wall to a boy outside of his car, clad in a comfortable, forest green sweater with tuffs of soft pink hair peeking through the hood. Jimin smiles brightly through the slightly tinted window despite his weary face, stepping away from the car door. Minseok gets out, stretching his limbs, "Hey, sorry. It's been a long day." Minseok excuses himself, smiling down at Jimin. The pink haired boy smiles back, "Oh no problem, I understand. Let's get some of your stuff upstairs first and let's introduce ourselves over some late dinner, is that okay?" Jimin asks. Minseok nods, "Yeah, that's actually great." 

   Minseok sits on one of the four chairs that are tucked under the glass dinner table, keeping his limbs as close to his body out of fear that he might mess things up. "It's just simple ramyeon, but I hope that's enough for you." Jimin shuffles out of the kitchen, a boiling pot of the midnight meal in one hand and bowls with utensils inside in the other. Minseok reacts quickly, sitting up straighter to receive the bowls with both hands, setting them down in front of him as Jimin piles the place mats on each side of the table in the middle. "Oh no, this is more than enough. Thank you." Jimin smiles, scooping some food in each bowl. The two devour the simple meal, Minseok ravenous from travel, Jimin starving from moving boxes and suitcases up the stairs. It's silent for a moment, just the sounds of eating filling the empty space.
   "So, let me formally and properly reintroduce myself. I'm Kim Jimin, nineteen, and an Art History major. Which, if you told the old me, like seventh grade me, I'd probably laugh hysterically in your face." Minseok chuckles, "Why's that?" Jimin reciprocates with his own airy laugh, setting down a spoon of soup back in the bowl. "I was so sure I was going to be a professional ballet dancer, was in ballet school even. Then I got in an accident that permanently damaged my knee, so now I just dance as an elective and sometimes at this local studio to keep the flexibility." Minseok nods solemnly, tracing random lines in his food absentmindedly at the almost depressing fact.
   Jimin snorts in amusement, "Don't get bummed about it. I actually enjoy art history and they apparently found, and fixed, something in my leg that I damaged while dancing ballet. Totally didn't even know it or feel it, but they said if I had kept dancing, I would've broken my knee and I wouldn't be able to walk or dance properly ever again. The accident was a blessing in disguise, if you will." Minseok nods, eyes meeting Jimin's across the table.

   A moment of tired silence.

   Jimin clears his throat, "Um, how about you?" Minseok raises his eyebrows in surprise, caught off-guard that he hadn't even told Jimin anything about him at all. "Oh yeah, um, I'm Jung Minseok, twenty. I'm an Arts major, and I also dance. I was classically trained in ballet and contemporary, but then I found hip hop and since then, I haven't danced ballet." Jimin pouts, "Bummer. Hip hop is cool, but ballet is a whole other level of cool." Minseok laughs, lips pulled back far enough to produce dimples. "Yeah, I guess it is. Maybe I'll try to get back into it one day."

   The air became gravid with silence once more, just slurping of noodles and sipping of soup.

   "Okay, fire round of ice breakers. Say three facts about yourself, then state your favorite color and ice cream flavor. Go." In the hour or so that Minseok has met Jimin, he's grateful at how he could control the awkward moments that Minseok creates.
   "Uh, uh, um. My first ever love was my best friend in ninth grade and she turned out to be a lesbian, I have an irrational fear of bridges, and I have a belly-button scar from a belly-button piercing that said ex-first love and best friend dared me to get. My favorite color should be black with the amount of black I own, but I really like bright yellow, and if I had to choose, rocky mountain road is my favorite ice cream flavor."
   Minseok feels the pink hue creep from his neck into his ears then his cheeks, embarrasment tainting the blood the pumps in his chest. "Sorry, I was under pressure." "You have a belly-button piercing?" Pink turns to fire truck red. "Had. It closed so I can't put anything in there anymore." "That's so freaking cool! Okay, okay, my turn." Jimin rests his chin on his hand, still gripping a spoon as he thinks hard.
   "I'm allergic to peaches, I can't swim, and I once lost a tooth by getting hit in the face with an out-of-control backyard swing. My favorite color is pink," Jimin points to his hair the color of sweet cotton candy, "And, funny enough, rocky road is my favorite ice cream flavor." Minseok chuckles with Jimin, a melodic harmony of amusement and tiredness.

   The two finish soon, spoons scraping the bottoms of the bowls. "It's late. I'll wash up down here, you go ahead and go to bed." Jimin stands, the chair screeching against the wood floors as he reaches over the table to grab Minseok's bowl. Minseok stands as soon as Jimin does out of the instictive respect, grabbing onto his empty bowl. "Ah, no, I can't possibly leave all this mess to you. That would be rude." Jimin smiles, plump lips as pink as his hair, "No, you're the guest. I'll give you a three day and nights pass before you start helping around with chores. Besides, you drove such a long way and orientation is tomorrow." Minseok returns a thankful smile, letting go of the bowl and letting the other take it. "Thank you." "No problem! Good night." "Night." Minseok pushes in his chair, dragging his feet to the staircase where he disappears up the stairs. 

   Minseok wakes at exactly 9 am, flickering strands of sunlight streaming on his face. His alarm is ringing in the background, muffled in the sheets it's lost in. "I hear your alarm ringing! Get up, you have orientation today!" Jimin yells from the bedroom door, lips cartoonishly pursed through gap, his eyes blocked by the frames but he can see Minseok groaning in his bed. Minseok grumbles incoherent words to which Jimin chuckles at. "Come on! Up! Up!" Jimin intrudes into his new roommate's cluttered room, dodging boxes as he makes way to the newcomer's bed. "Today's the day! Orientation! You have to get up now or you'll be late." He warns, grabbing onto Minseok's muscular arm and shaking him. "I'm up, I'm up." Minseok mumbles, eyes heavy laden with purplish circles underneath, blinking slowly to regain eyesight. Jimin chuckles, something to which Minseok might just enjoy waking up to. "Good, I need to brush my teeth. By the time I'm done, you better be on your way to getting ready. I'm driving you today, you're first class chauffeur for the first day on campus." Minseok smiles, eyesight still blurry with sleep. "Thanks." Jimin smiles brightly as the sun that washes them, sticking the toothbrush in his hand into his mouth, "Don't mention it!" 

   When Jimin leaves is when Minseok sits up, the loose and oversized muscle tee we wore to bed tangled in his limbs. He rubs his face quite aggressively, stretching wide with bones cracking left and right. Slightly more awake, Minseok shoves his feet inside his slippers and stands, his immense size immediately shrinking as the air conditioning starts to circulate. He shuffles around the boxes and suitcases, taking his sweet time to bend down and search through the baggages for clothes to wear and hygeine supplies. It takes him a minute or two, but his arms were soon filled with plausible outfits and showering items. Minseok debates on which door other than the obvious one that lead to the rest of the house, was the one to the bathroom. He looks back and forth between the two, and ultimately decides the one on the right was the bathroom. He struggles to open the door, but when he does, he's delighted to see the tiles. For him, he'd considered it his first win of the day. 

   It's undeniable that Jimin is rich. Despite being just a student, he owns a semi luxurious apartment with each three rooms having their own bathrooms and closets. The rooms themselves are relatively big for an apartment, all located upstairs. The bottom floor is reserved for the open dining room connected to the kitchen, both separated by a simple wall to the living room. Minseok didn't fully understand how fancy Jimin's place is until now, after taking a shower and getting himself ready. He takes in all of the minimal artwork hung on the walls as he jogs down the stairs, the bounce in his step making thunderous noise that catches Jimin's attention who sits on the living room couch.
   The temperature reached lower that Minseok's gravelly morning voice, though there wasn't any snow on the grounds, just rough and dry winds that bit at the skin. In an attempt to shield himself from the bite of the cold, Minseok sports an all black outfit-- least to say it was very on brand of him. The university sweatshirt he wears is black with gray outlines of the logo, that tucked into a black pair of pants that contrasted with the even blacker belt that wraps his hips. His daring outfit doesn't stop there, his socks barely peeking out is an all-new conservative black that disappears into shiny black dress shoes. To top it off, the black trench coat he wears compliments the outfit.

   "Badass."

   Jimin has wide eyes from behind his phone, the screen flashing faded colors on his cheeks, replacing the pale blush on it. 

   "Or should I say fashionista? What is it? Prada? Gucci?" Minseok rolls his eyes, turning to a round mirror on the wall to make sure his styled and gelled hair sits in place. 

   "Thrifted. But if I look that expensive, I'll take the compliment." Jimin smiles at him through the mirror, to which Minseok responds with an equally enthusiastic smile. "The fact that the only color on you other than black is gray and silver makes you look quite expensive, maybe even standoffish. But, hey, if it's your aesthetic, it's cool. I know some people that would cream their pants with how you look right now." For once in the morning, red graces Minseok's outfit, a highlight on his cheeks that, quite frankly, suited his outfit. "Thank you?" Jimin smiles, all teeth and teasing.
   "Let's go. I have some people I want you to meet." Jimin stands from the couch, shoving his phone into the back pocket of the equally black pants he wears. Minseok follows behind, shoving his own belongings in various pockets in his outfit. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but doesn't orientation start, like, two hours from now?" Minseok asks from behind Jimin who locks his apartment door and jiggles the doorknob to authenticate if it's truly closed. "You're right. But I have this little tradition in my morning routine that I meet up with my friends in the morning at a cafe, get some breakfast or a drink or something. Helps to wake you up and sets the day in a positive light, you know? I want you to meet them! If you're going to be living with me for who know's how long, I want you to be comfortable with the people that are constantly around me. Plus, it's a great way to meet and make friends."

   Minseok doesn't know if it's the sun that warms him or if it's the guinine sweetness in Jimin's voice, but a grin graces his face.