Chapter Text
Creating Love in a Lab: the Experimental Generation of Interpersonal Relationships in South Korea
Bae Joohyun
Seoul National University
Kim Wonshik
Yonsei University
Sandara Park
Konkuk University
Kim Namjoon
Seoul National University
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________
Throughout history, man has always sought a way to rationalise what it can see and what it can’t. In the following study, a practical methodology is presented for creating closeness in an experimental context. Whether or not an individual is in a relationship, particular pairings of individuals in a relationship and circumstances of a relationship development become manipulated variables. Over a two hour period, subject pairs carry out self-disclosure and relationship-building tasks that gradually increase in intensity. The aim of the study is to test whether the same can be applied with the cultural lens of East Asia, specifically South Korean individuals.
|One: Sample Selection|
[Time: 2 weeks before D-Day]
The news breaks in a warm, homely bar, one of the many dotted across the landscape of Seoul. It’s dimly lit and feels like home because it is home, it’s been home since sophomore year of college when Yoongi, Namjoon and Hoseok stumbled upon it in the middle of a sudden thunderstorm. It is home and carries all their imprints, the memories of their friendship, of Namjoon and Hoseok’s budding (and in Yoongi’s opinion, excruciatingly slow burn) love, the marks of drunken Jenga nights and heated Uno matches.
It now also carries the mark of Namjoon’s betrayal, a betrayal that Yoongi didn’t see coming at all because Namjoon is his best friend, his brother, really, since they made up after their first semester at SNU and stuck together. He can’t believe such a thing is marring one of his favourite places to be himself in Seoul.
“You want me to do what now?” Yoongi asks for the second time. Maybe the tenth time, because he still can’t believe Namjoon, Kim Namjoon, would ask him of all people something so ridiculous. He blames Hoseok immediately; there’s no way his best friend would do this without getting his heart and head twisted by the supposed love of his life. His internal image gags. “Could you repeat that for me again? A little more slowly?”
Namjoon groans. He’s wearing his PhD uniform which doesn’t fit in at all at the bar, but it’s been years and both of them might as well as be the patrons of said bar, except that they’re too broke to call themselves even that. “I don’t know how many times you’re going to drag this out of me.”
“Namjoon-ah. My cuddle bunny-”
“Hyung, stop-”
“Just do what hyung says and I will,” Yoongi retorts. He takes a gulp of the beer he’d ordered and realises midway that he’d taken a swig out of Namjoon’s. Oh well. He’d live.
Namjoon levels him with a steady eye. “Okay, but this is going to be the last time or I swear to God-”
“What? What will you do?”
“Gonna tell Hoseok about what you did his last birthday,” Namjoon comments idly, a smirk making its way slowly onto his face. Yoongi shudders; he’s been caught and trapped and really doesn’t want hell in the form of Hoseok to rain its fury down upon him.
“Fucking evil,” Yoongi mutters. He should have known Namjoon would never remain the sweet, innocent boy he’d been back in college. Graduate school really produced hellspawn in its stead. “Fine. I won’t interrupt.”
Namjoon clears his throat. “Okay, so. I’m involved in a preliminary study for a paper, a pilot of sorts really, to test whether love can be created if one were to manipulate certain variables that lead to ‘love’.”
“Please speak Korean.”
Namjoon sighs, one of those insufferable sounds he makes when he has to dumb down his impressive and expansive vocabulary for mere mortals like Yoongi.
“Basically I and a bunch of really smart, really overworked graduate students want to see if love is a science or magic like people want to believe. And I’d really like if you would be a part of the sample.”
“Shouldn’t that be, I dunno, random?” Yoongi asks. His knowledge of research is pretty shitty, but he’s done his bachelor level thesis and he knows basic shit like random sampling and whatever his professor spewed in his elective stats class.
“It could be, but for my section, I’m seeking out a certain, ah, sensitive population to study their aspect of love.”
“You mean the gays.”
“I do mean the LGBTQ+ community and some more,” Namjoon amends.
Yoongi waits for more, but he’s met with Namjoon’s ever-annoying steady gaze. He’s still waiting for the thing to settle in- love, study, sample- all the things he’s never really cared about and doesn’t want to start. Like, sure, he supports Namjoon and his magnificent big brain with its need to keep studying weird shit but he’s never wanted to involve himself in Namjoon’s studies and had requested that explicitly.
Guess a desperate PhD student is a desperate PhD student.
“You want me for this,” Yoongi starts slowly. He can say no right away. He can dismiss it entirely, not entertain the thing anymore and talk to Namjoon as a friend does.
“I do.”
“Why.”
“Because- because hyung, you’d be perfect for this!” Namjoon exclaims, his glasses going slightly askew that Yoongi fixes out of sheer habit as the elder hyung. “You’re gay, you’re young and not to mention, you’re really hot- I mean this in a totally platonic and aesthetic appreciation way- you’d be great for this.”
“So let me get this straight,” Yoongi says, pretends he doesn’t see Namjoon snort and mutter ‘that’s the only thing you’d be straight in’, “you want me to be part of an experiment that wants to see if ‘love’ between two people can be created. Manufactured. With the right questions.”
Namjoon nods eagerly, eyes shining in that Namjoon way of his. “It’s an American study and we want to recreate in Korea, see if it has similar results or not.”
“We’re talking romantic love?”
“100%.”
Yoongi nods. He hums, runs a finger over the rim of his glass, and fixates on one of the dim yellow light bulbs for way too long than necessary before he snorts. “C’mon, Namjoon. You’re kidding me.”
Namjoon looks hurt. Yoongi winces internally. “I am not, hyung.”
“Me? You’re really asking me this?” Yoongi points towards himself as if it isn’t just the two of them in their reserved booth. “Joon-ah, I don’t believe in- this shit. Love or soulmates or romance. I’d be the most useless candidate ever.”
“That’s exactly where you’re wrong,” Namjoon argues right back. Yoongi admires that quality of his, has always liked that when Namjoon’s convinced about something he refuses to back down. “On the contrary, you’re the perfect candidate for this. You’re sceptical. You’d be an interesting addition to the sample pool.”
Yoongi can say no. He can say it right now, Namjoon’s feelings be damned because he’s blunt and Namjoon’s more than used to Yoongi’s less than warm ways. He can say no, should say no because he’s not lying, he doesn’t fuck with love and all that jazz over it. He’s in the middle of making his music, he’s settled well with a career he loves, has a cosy one-bedroom apartment that he shares with his dog Min Holly and he’s happy. He has his best friends and has no unhealthy habits. He really doesn’t need any sort of drama interrupting this carefully curated life of his, that he’s earned after god knows, absolute years of struggle.
Namjoon looks like he knows what’s running in Yoongi’s mind and his eyes widen a bit, his lips trembling to let out a plea. It shouldn’t be cute or anything because Namjoon is a fucking dork at best and he’s cute only because Yoongi has a massive hyung complex.
Min Yoongi can say no.
Just not to Kim Namjoon, not when he makes that particular expression.
“Fucking fine,” Yoongi hisses, slightly upset as Namjoon loses said expression in a nanosecond, the fucking manipulator that he is, but not too much because he’s never been able to say no to him. “I swear to God, though, Joon-ah, if this shit causes me trouble I’m going to strangle you with Holly’s leash, Hoseok’s sadness be damned.”
Namjoon rolls his eyes. “Hyung, it’s an experiment. As I said, you’re sceptical and just one of the candidates. You’ve always been a fortress, what could you be possibly worried about?”
Which he’s not wrong about. Yoongi’s protected his heart pretty well and has no intention of putting it on a platter to be cut up and served.
“Yeah, it’s just an experiment.” Yoongi takes the last gulp and swishes the beer in his mouth, wrinkling his nose at the bitter taste. Why he drinks this shit when he knows it tastes like piss is a mystery. “Let’s see who you’d even pair me with.”
He knows it’s an unspoken challenge that’s been ensued, and one that Namjoon’s picked up on because he gives a happy version of a smirk, mirth trapped in his eyes as if he already knows Yoongi’s hapless partner. “Don’t worry about it, hyung, I’m sure we’ll find you someone.”
~
[Time: 48 hours ago]
“It’s just not fair, you know,” Taehyung hiccups, pitifully through his steadily decreasing cognitive abilities, “it’s just not fair that I’m alone. Me. The prettiest of them all. It’s really not.”
He lays with his cheek pressed to the cool wood of the bar countertop, vision distorted by the empty bottle of soju that lays in between him and- whoever is on the other side of the bottle, he can’t tell. Although on second thoughts, the wood isn’t that cool anymore. Taehyung’s sure he’s been laying like this for at least the past twenty minutes and the sweat and oil from the pores on his face have left a dirty imprint. The very thought makes him raise his head and his fears are confirmed by the strange sound of skin separating from wood. And the round circle shining in the bar lights.
He hiccups some more and takes one more swig from the bottle, after which it vanishes and is replaced with a tall glass of water. He doesn’t want to drink water; he’d come to get wasted. However, a light but firm hand coaxes him towards it, touch running up and down his back and the other hand edging the glass towards him. Taehyung is only human and so, he falls for the charm of the water.
He gulps down all of it and realises very belatedly that he was very thirsty. He feels better or rather, more rehydrated than before, and his vision clears up slightly.
“Better?” It’s Jimin’s voice, sweet and high and somehow not slurred, the bastard always having had alcohol tolerance in the infinite. Taehyung nods, bummed that he’s sloshed like this while Jimin’s taking care of him, again.
“Where was I?”
“Bemoaning the lack of a love life for like, the 100th time today,” comes Seokjin’s response. Right, right, he’d gone out drinking with Jimin, Seokjin and Jeongguk. Jimin and Jeongguk had dropped by his and Seokjin’s shared apartment for their Friday night clubbing ritual, taken one look at Taehyung’s sad and lonely mood which happened like 8% of the time and had suggested Sad Drinking instead. And now they were here. Well, Seokjin and Jimin were here while Jeongguk had fucked off to God knows which gaming table.
Taehyung doesn’t appreciate the bite in Seokjin’s voice but then, he’s also really sensitive. Especially when it comes to this topic. “It’s serious.”
“I didn’t say it wasn’t,” Seokjin replies, sipping at some painfully bright fruity cocktail. “Just saying you’ve said it a lot in the past thirty minutes and we don’t know what to say anymore.”
“Tell me I’d find someone.”
“Okay, you’ll find someone,” Jimin deadpans, and Taehyung swats him on the arm out of habit.
“You both are horrible. You’re not taking this seriously enough.”
Jimin throws up his hands in the air, clearly frustrated. “I don’t know what you want us to do about it, Taehyungie! We’ve set you up on blind dates and you’ve rejected them, I introduced you to Taemin-hyung’s friends and you found a flaw in all of them, which, I don’t know how. You’re not as willing as you’re whining about it all the damn time!”
At the end of this tirade is a Jimin looking frustrated, a Seokjin with eyes wide and Taehyung with what he’s sure is a hurt expression on his face and lips near trembling. Jimin seems to realise he fucked up because he immediately surrounds Taehyung, wraps him up in that heady orange blossom scent he’s partial to and coos at Taehyung, apologising fervently. It’s only five minutes later but Taehyung feels better.
“Nice save, Jimin-ah,” Seokjin adds cheekily, and Jimin glares over the top of Taehyung’s head while Taehyung just pokes his tongue out. He knows he’s just much more sensitive but still capable of using his charms to emotionally guilt his near and dear ones. Not that he should feel that proud of it.
Taehyung remains in arms that feel like home while Jimin and Seokjin talk to each other softly, in a way couples often do. He doesn’t know if that’s true, however, because he’s only ever seen Jimin, Jeongguk and Seokjin be the loudest people when together and logically, he knows that’s not the case 100% of the time. Like now, when he’s safe and secure between them, sure, but they still seem to be wrapped up in their world. Soft words, careful glances and just this established sort of love that Taehyung wants for himself too. Is wanting that so bad? He wants someone who would just get him and understand him, someone he can imagine the world with. Not someone perfect but just- someone. It almost makes him cry again, seeing Jimin and Seokjin being themselves, and how much he just wishes. Gosh, he must be drunker than he thought he’d ever be.
Whatever they’re in the middle off is interrupted momentarily by the beep of Seokjin’s phone, the old man never switching off the ringer like the rest of the hip people he hangs out with (Jeongguk’s pointed it out a million times and Taehyung agrees). Seokjin looks at the screen with squinty eyes and then he shuts his phone off with an air of disinterest.
“Who was it?” Jimin asks, and Taehyung’s glad he did because Seokjin doesn’t do that, leave people on read or even if it’s a spam mail, not mock whoever sent it to him. He’s an opportunist, he makes the most out of every situation he gets.
Seokjin shrugs. “Hoseok.”
Taehyung blinks, a little more awake than before. “Ex-Hoseok? Dumped-you-at-a-barbeque Hoseok?” He stops when Seokjin levels him with an unimpressed look, feeling sheepish. “Sorry. Just, we don’t hear about him.”
“Because he’s in the past.” Then the elder sighs, his impressive shoulders going down a notch. He gets like that sometimes, defensive automatically when it comes to things he’s not wholly comfortable with emotionally, no matter how okay he looks with his jokes and a kind smile. “We were a short fling anyway. And he didn’t like feelings just like I didn’t. There are no hard feelings involved.”
Jimin thinks otherwise, because he positively hisses, miffed like a Korean ahjumma. “He dumped you at a restaurant and didn’t even pay for his share. He’s on sight.” Seokjin chuckles. Taehyung’s too drunk to accurately read the elder like he normally does, but if he has the correct inkling- Seokjin’s being honest.
“You’re cute, Jimin-ah, but we know you wouldn’t kill him-”
“I’ll have you know-”
“You’d plan his death spectacularly in a gruesome way, all in line with the sticky notes you would have made about your plan. I don’t doubt you, love.” Jimin preens at this, happily pacified at having his passive dominance and just under the skin evilness acknowledged. Taehyung shudders internally at the kind of friends he calls his own.
He loses track of the conversation after that, somewhat pacified with unhealthy amounts of alcohol and friends petting his sadness away. The sadness, he knows, won’t really go away- it’s been ingrained into him for a while now, maybe since he got addicted to those infamous Korean dramas and realised that he liked his neighbour Minsuk and not his sister Mina. He knew somehow that finding love for people like him- beautiful, fabulously bi (now; he’d been sure he was gay and sometimes he thinks he’s pan but- he’s losing track) and eccentric would be a difficult endeavour.
Cue the big, silent, heavy sigh tinkering around in his brain.
Somewhere along the way, the night melts away and Taehyung wakes up to soft beds, bright lights and a couple of heavy bodies cuddling all around him, making it much too hot to breathe well. His head is aching, worsened by the aforementioned things and also the constant drilling noise he’s subjected to every morning.
Right. So they’re in his apartment then.
A brief look around shows him that the pair of bodies are in fact Jimin and Jeongguk, with Seokjin nowhere on the scene. Not that it’s strange, because the elder is an early riser and can’t stand sleeping with too many people around him anyway.
His suspicions are confirmed when he walks into the kitchen and sees Seokjin whipping eggs in a bowl, not even looking close to a hangover. It’s fucking unfair how he had to go and be friends with three people with stellar alcohol tolerance and (maybe) good babysitters. Taehyung’s, specifically.
“Morning, pretty,” Seokjin sings, much too cheerful than what Taehyung’s ready for. Last night’s melancholy has carried over into a new day and that sucks too. Everything sucks. But a lack of a potential love interest to share that suckiness with sucks the most.
“How are you so happy in the morning? I swear I saw you down, like, ten shots.”
“The power of genetic alcohol tolerance and the presence of the two chaotic loves of my life, what else,” Seokjin replies back smoothly, almost cheekily, and Taehyung positively hisses because wow, a low blow. He says so even.
“Wow, I was not expecting a low blow like that so soon.”
“Oh, quit moping,” Seokjin brushes off airily, putting scrambled eggs onto Taehyung’s plate. Rude, he didn’t even ask Taehyung if he wanted eggs. Taehyung’s ideal partner would have. “I have news in that department. Maybe good, depending on your reaction.”
Taehyung immediately narrows his eyes, picking up on the subtle tones of mischief apparent. “What kind of news?”
Seokjin takes a moment before getting his phone out and thumbing through a couple of things.
“So you remember Hoseok texted me last night?”
“Ex-Hoseok?”
“Jesus, yes,” Seokjin says exasperatedly. “I get it, I have an ex, big deal.”
“No, the big deal is you got dumped and not the other way round.”
Seokjin narrows his eyes then. “Careful, you might not get the good news after all.” Taehyung holds up his hands at that and waves at the elder to continue. “Right. So. Apparently he’s dating now.”
“Great…”
“No, hold up. Right, so, he’s dating this genius psych researcher who is the love of his life- that’s what I glean from these messages- and said love of the life is looking for potential…subjects.”
Taehyung frowns. That doesn’t sound like good news at all. “Subjects for…?”
“Um, an experiment. A social-psych one, about- wait a minute, what the fuck is this- right. About the science of love.”
Cue pin-drop silence.
“Okay,” Taehyung says after five precise minutes, “what the fuck?”
“Yeah, same sentiment.”
“No, hyung,” Taehyung shovels more eggs in his mouth and downs his coffee because this just worsens his headache even more. “Be clearer.”
“I don’t know, Tae, Hoseok just wrote this brief para about what the experiment is about- apparently, they’re trying to see if love can be ‘made’ if the right set of conditions and questions are asked between two people. Thought you’d like it since you were, you know, eating our brain up about the lack of it in your life.”
Taehyung’s sure he’s blushing bright red at that, but he’s also- baffled. That’s the word. He’s utterly confused because he loves Love, you see, with the whole capital L, balloons and hearts that are not what hearts actually look like. He’s a sucker for the fanfictions and clichés and opposites attract (they don’t, really) and he adores it because he’s grown up that way, watching first his grandparents in love and then his parents, who loved him too. He likes the romantic aspect and the platonic one, and at one point, before Jimin got serious with Seokjin (way before they both decided to court Jeongguk), he’d even made a pact with Jimin to raise a child together.
So he likes Love. He just doesn’t get what this experiment wants from him, and he expresses as much to Seokjin, who just shrugs, sending something over text where a moment later Taehyung’s phone beeps with a listed contact. Kim Namjoon, it says, and he’s not familiar with the name at all.
“This is the guy. I think it’ll be better to ask him all the questions. Hoseok just asked me if I’d know someone or not.”
“Surely there are plenty of others.”
“My guess is this guy is looking for the rainbow railroad enthusiasts.” At this Taehyung shuts down, a temporary lid to the number of questions threatening to overflow his very self. It makes sense that the researcher in question might be looking for a specific kind of people. Isn’t that what plagues him as well? His pool of selection is reduced because sure, girls are there, but Taehyung always been more of a homoromantic and he’s never found one that he just clicks with. Because Jimin is right, the others have looked for ones for him and he’s rejected most of them; a couple he’s gone on dates with that never progressed to second or third ones.
He wonders if it’s worth it because, above all, he doesn’t want to be- used for his sexuality. But if this Kim Namjoon person is dating Hoseok, then there’s a high possibility it’s a genuine research thing and not some sick sort of homoerotic fetishizing game. He’s unfortunately met a lot of those weirdos as well in his woeful journey.
“Sounds cool,” he says at last, because it is cool, even if a bit strange. It’s somewhat like a blind date but like, with science. Is love a science? He knows attraction is biological. Calm the F train, buddy, you need to find out more first.
Later, when all of them have woken up and left and consoled Taehyung one last time about how hot he is and how inevitable it is that he’d find someone perfect for him, Taehyung sits with his phone (and heart) in the palm of his hand, feeling the nerves kick in. He’s normally never shy about phone contact but there’s something about contacting this Namjoon person that makes his hands sweat. His potential love interest would totally not like that.
Taehyung [2:40 P.M]
Hey
Is this Kim Namjoon-ssi?
Kim Namjoon [2:40 P.M.]
It is!
Who may this be?
Taehyung [2:45 P.M.]
Hi
Um
This is Kim Taehyung
My friend Seokjin-ssi was contacted through your, uh, boyfriend
Hoseok-ssi?
For some…experiment
Kim Namjoon [2:47 P.M.]
!!!!
Right! Yes, hello
Yeah, I’m Kim Namjoon
I’m guessing you’re contacting me to know
Well, more details about this
Right?
Taehyung [2:50 P.M.]
Yeah
I didn’t get the clear picture
I’m…interested in whatever you’re attempting
But I’d still like to know the full picture
Before, um
Stepping into anything
Kim Namjoon [2:55 P.M.]
Of course!
I apologise for the lack of details
Hoseok gets excited and says things before they can be formal
Ok, so
[typing…]
Here’s the short version. If you’re interested after this, I’ll explain it in more detail at the lab. So, there was an experiment conducted in the US in 1997 about whether or not ‘love’ as we know it can be created/manipulated etc. My team and I are recreating it in the Asian and specifically South Korean context with additional variables like culture, sexuality etc. And so, I’m looking for participants, of all kinds- men, women, LGBTQ. Age criteria can be early twenties onwards. It’s a small thing for now.
So that.
I understand if you don’t feel comfortable. If you do take this further, please know that you’d have the right to withdraw at any time.
Taehyung looks at the last message for a long time. He reads and rereads the short passage, wondering and doubting both at the same time. Experimenting with love? It sounded so horribly logical and scientific about one of the most beautiful emotions of all times, and yet- he couldn’t help but feel curious. Not that it was the magic solution to his number one problem but it was still a unique twist and he was- sue him, intrigued.
Taehyung [3:05 P.M.]
This sounds neat
Yeah, I’m interested
Count me in!
Kim Namjoon [3:06 P.M.]
Awesome!
I’ll contact you with further details in a short while
Thank you so much for participating.
I look forward to working with you
PS- Apologies again for Hoseok
Taehyung smiles. He locks his phone, chucking it to the side and clicking fingers in the air, whistling for his dog Yeontan to come out of whatever hole he’d decided to make his home. His dog, realising that the house was free of pesky human intruders like his loud friends, tumbles out, and Taehyung picks him up, nuzzling into his fur.
“What do you think, Tan-ah? Should appa go for this?” Yeontan yips at him and Taehyung can’t discern if he’s agreeing or simply asking for treats. Knowing his stature as a dog, it’s most probably the latter.
Sigh. He’s really fucking lonely if he’s talking to his dog and expecting a human response.
But maybe no longer.
~
[Time: 1 week later, pre-day 1]
“You sure about this, Namjoon-ah?”
“Absolutely certain,” Namjoon replies, not even looking up from the rough mess of sheets he’s handling. He knows Hoseok is somewhere off to his right, on the couch maybe, at some awkward angle that Namjoon can’t manage with his shitty flexibility. “This will be fun.”
“You’re not using statistics,” Hoseok replies, voice edging closer. “I don’t think you’re very certain about this.”
Namjoon looks up briefly from the proposal. “Certain about what? That this experiment is killing two birds with one stone?” He looks down again. “Besides, I’ve always been more of a qualitative research guy. Numbers are just spicy.”
Hoseok groans. “God, you’re so weird.” There’s silence for a while before he hears a resounding sigh. “I don’t know, Joon. Yoongi-hyung won’t be happy with his life being interfered with like this.”
“Yoongi-hyung’s never going to be happy as long he’s got his head taking space up in his ass,” Namjoon intones. “So we’re being sneaky a bit. Big deal. We wouldn’t have to if he’d just listen to us instead of ranting about the capitalism of love for the 500th time.”
Hoseok only shrugs helplessly. Namjoon knows where Hoseok’s nervousness is coming from; after all, he’s taking a slight risk in being so persistent in having Yoongi be one of his subjects. Technically, he shouldn’t. He ethically can’t take someone known to him, but sue him- he’s sick of Yoongi’s defences and would really like his hyung to widen his world view, if not his people view.
If Yoongi found out that this is a deliberate ruse cooked up by Namjoon to maybe set him up, he’s going to be strung like a dead goat. Over a spitfire, slowly roasting even.
“I mean, it’s not necessary that love needs to happen or be the thing people are looking for, you know.”
“I know that,” Namjoon says. He’s debated this point a million times with his team. “Love can be anything, not just romance. I know we’ve dubbed this the ‘science of love’ but really, if the end result is friendship or intimacy or whatever, it’s still love. It’s still a result.” Namjoon shakes a hand through his hair, internally cringing at how greasy it feels. “Look, I love hyung but he needs to stop being that crone at the edge of the forest who hisses at everyone to leave him alone. I want him to find out more. Experiment a little. You and I both know where most of his hostility comes from anyway.”
At that Hoseok shuts his mouth and falls silent. Neither really like recalling the Core Reason, even if Yoongi jokes about it sometimes. They know how important it is to Yoongi’s sense of identity.
So maybe Namjoon’s breaking a rule. Maybe he’s using his friend a little. He’s a shitty person sometimes. But he really wants Yoongi to be happy, to at least give life a chance beyond the capitalist dogma which he totally agrees with on most days. That’s one of the things he’s always wanted for his best friend.
And Namjoon thinks, maybe he’d find something good for his hyung in the meantime.