(SPECIAL CHAPTER 2) JUNGKOOK: FILM

Author's Note:

2/13 of our special chapters for the side characters!

Hello. This is a special chapter which is not part of the main storyline. You can skip this, however, if you don't feel like reading since it won't affect the story.

I'll try to focus on posting these every five main chapters as long as the arcs will continue smoothly :D Also, I hope you could listen to the song and read its lyrics because it just fit perfectly in this chapter. I almost shed tears, LOL.

J U N G K O O K

In a world of colors, some people remain monochrome.

Click!

A boy was sitting beside the open window of the classroom, looking outside. He blurs at the background of his classmates playing, having fun and in groups. They were all bright painted kids, and even the room is in pastels, he's the only dull black and white in the frame.

No one ever bothers to talk to the boy in the corner.

Click!

A tree. A moon. A sun.

He has always been the one to play the background role. Literally. He was black and white and he hated stage plays. He hated standing in front of an audience. He wants to puke, he can feel his stomach churning. He can feel his nerves itchy, his hands shaking. But he can never tell anyone. Because they won't understand.

'Don't look at me.'

(You're overreacting. You're shallow.)

He gulped. His heart is thumping so fast. He bit the insides of his cheek.

(Someone else has it harder than you.)

His eyes frantically searched in the crowd. He found his parents in the middle. He looked straight in their eyes.

(Man up. Face it, coward.)

There was nothing but emptiness and disappointment. He ended up playing yet another minor role, wearing a cut out board, standing in a corner as nothing but a tree. That moment, he really did feel like a useless chunk of wood.

(If they can do it, why can't you?)

It was the cue to walk as the scene of the play changes. But as he tried to take a step, his wobbly knees failed him. He tripped on his own feet.

Shit. He became the center of attention of the peering eyes.

He looked at the crowd. They started looking like shadows, only their sharp eyes and mocking lips were recognizable, scrutinizing the colorless child. There were whispers... that were too loud for their own good.

(Why are you acting like that's a big problem? Get over it.)

His eyes searched for his parents again. He can see his mother shaking her head in disbelief and his father looking away. He felt his throat choking up, his eyes welling.

The only people who he wanted to see him, averted their eyes.

He became much aware of the crowd watching him.

Please...

'Don't look at me!'

The little boy ran away.

But, in reality, no one actually looked his way.

Click!

His aunt was softly combing his hair with her fingers as he lay on her lap in the bed. She stopped for a second, so he sat up and looked at her. She was leaning on the headrest, her frail arms struggling as she tried to reach a bag on the side table. He decided to hand it to her.

She mumbled a 'thanks' as she took out the thing inside the bag and gave him, "This is my gift for you."

"Camera?" he asked while inspecting it.

"Hm," she nodded as she watched the boy try it. She took his eyes, making him look at her, "When you can't see me anymore," she pats his head lightly.

"I'll be stuck in a film. You can find me there," she smiled at him.

They took a picture. It was the first gift he loved.

It was a monochrome camera.

The photo turned out black and white. But their smiles are colorful. He was making a peace sign, she was hugging him sidewards, bending her weak body to his height, to fit the frame. She had her hair under a bandage around her head, a dextrose on one hand, but she was grinning in her bed with him.

Since the camera didn't have colors, for the first time, he looked like a part of the photo.

He thought something changed.

No one told the boy what he was too young to understand.

Click!

"Hey, you," the little girl jumped from the swing and ran towards him, sitting on the bench, "That's a camera, right? Take a photo of me!" she told him.

He looked around to make sure she was talking to him despite the fact that he is the only one holding a camera. It was a school fair and he is alone yet again, "Uhm... Okay," he answered and took a photo of her.

The next day, he saw the same girl in the hallway. He mustered all his courage and tapped her shoulder.

"Uh," he fished out the developed picture from his pockets, "This is the p-picture... You uhm, asked yesterday."

The girl was about to respond when one of her classmates said to her, "You talk to the weird kid?"

Her eyes widened and she looked at the other girl before looking at him, "H-huh? No!" her eyes dropped to the photo he is still giving her, "What are you saying? Weirdo," she told him and slapped the picture from his hand.

It sting.

He heard their whispers and gossips as they left him.

Click!

"Hey bro, can you pass me the ball?" a boy from his middle school class yelled running towards him from a short distance. His eyes dropped from his camera lenses to the soccer ball on his feet.

He picked it up with both hands, "Uh... Sure."

"Dude, are you alone again?" he asked when he stopped to take the ball and catch his breath. He curtly nodded before walking away but the boy stopped him.

"Let's play," he offered with a smile.

"I can't win against Namjoon," he continued as he dragged him by the wrist, "Let's team up against him!"

"Huh?" he was still dumbfounded as he was being pulled by the stranger.

"Cmon, it will be fun!" the guy encouraged him.

"Stop pestering people, Jimin," the other student said when they reached the field, "Are you joining? If you are, you might want to put your camera down. We don't want it breaking," the guy talked to him with no questions.

He didn't have the chance to say no. Deep inside, he also didn't want to. They played for hours that afternoon.

"Let's take a photo!" Jimin suddenly announced when they were cooling. He stood up right away to reach for his camera.

"Okay," he agrees as he moves away from them, pointing the lenses to the two boys.

"Huh? What are you doing?" Namjoon furrowed his brow while looking at him.

"Taking your photo?" he put the camera down a little to stare back at him.

The two looked at each other and back at him, "Nah," Jimin suddenly pulled him and took his camera, "We're all in this frame."

He held it up high as he put his arm around him. Namjoon did too, "3... 2..." he clicked the shutter before one, taking them by surprise. He laughed.

"Hey, that's cheating! One more!" Namjoon complained as he hit Jimin with the ball.

"It's fine. I look good there already," Jimin continued laughing.

On the other hand, he took his time to stare at the photo. They were all in one frame.

Click!

She wore a white blouse that day.

She was looking back at someone over her shoulders with bright, sparkling eyes. Her hair was perfectly carried by the wind. She was beaming, he never knew what exactly genuine happiness looked like until he saw her.

It was a perfect shot.

One he captured in an accident.

Perfect.

For him, he had always stared at vivid hues of people. But when he saw her, the colors burned brightly. The brightest he has ever seen.

Click!

"Wow, really?!" Jisoo grinned at him while clapping her hands to the news he just shared with her, "I'm happy for you!" she exclaimed before hugging him briefly.

She pulled back and flipped the portfolio, "These photos are lovely," she complimented.

He rubbed the back of his head bashfully, "I'm still amateur so I probably won't be part of their gallery yet."

"Of course it will take time," she looked at him, "But are you happy?" she asked.

"Yes," he answered straight, looking at her expressive eyes.

"Then that's what's important!" she told him. Jisoo looked at his portfolios in awe again, observing the pictures he arranged.

"Thank you," he suddenly uttered.

"Hm?" she turned towards him.

"For telling me I can," he responded, "Even if we're not really... exactly... friends?"

"Huh?" Jisoo tilted her head, "Are we not?" she blinked at him.

"A-are we?" he asks.

"Yup!" she smiled, "Unless you don't want to—"

"No!" he instantly interrupted, shocking her. He averted his gaze, "I mean, I would... I would love to... Be your friend," his eyes went back to her and he gave her a small smile.

Jisoo chuckled, "Me too."

"Thank you," he stated again.

"For what now?" she couldn't help but laugh once more.

"For being my muse," he looked down and played with the page of the portfolio he showed her, "Someday..." he trailed off.

"Someday... I'll make a gallery of you," he whispered while staring at the photo. It was a photo of her, smiling at the camera, the one he took the other day when she agreed to help him.

He was caught up in his thoughts, he didn't realize he was thinking out loud.

His eyes widened as he snapped his neck to face her, "I... I m-mean, only if you still want to be my muse... muse of my photography... and if you would allow, of course."

She stared at him for a second and didn't contemplate before answering right away, "Sure. Thank you for making me your muse!"

"I would love to see that gallery someday," she added with a smile.

The world was colorful.

She was in beautiful bright pastels.

Her side view was still stunning as she flipped through the portfolio silently. She looked breathtaking, peaceful. She was the opposite of him. Because he is sure, if ever the world was the one monochrome, she will still be in colors.

And he'll always be black and white.

Click!

The camera is rolling in an abandoned cinema. There was no audience around except for him. He was watching a movie about her.

He remained in his spot.

Even if the old cinema was destroyed, he remained watching.

Even as they built a museum from its ruins, he remained watching.

He will never grow tired of watching.

Soon, the rolling scenes stopped moving.

Yet even as the movie became a frozen photo framed and hung on the wall of a museum, he remained watching... staring... admiring... her.

Just like that, slowly, the film fades to nothing.

[The End]

Thank you for watching.

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