by mang_a_art

Student loans, student housing, student housing aid, exchange student housing aid… I sighed. Did our government support anyone who wasn't currently enrolled in higher education?

I did my math, and my unemployment benefits would be about sixty percent of my last three payslips. A roll of toilet paper was worth more these days. 

I groaned, cleared my search, and tried a new attempt. There must be something. Only they hid it really well. 

Support for families. My finger hovered over the link. Jimin and I were a family, weren't we? Although the knot inside my stomach already told me that I would fall through the system spectacularly. I opened the questionnaire.

First question: Are you a single parent?

Should I click yes or now? I was a single carer, but there was no option for that, of course. So I guess this was the closest option. Rapmonster, who was lying next to me on the couch licked my toe approvingly. 

Second question: how many children under the age of eighteen live in your household?

Theoretically none, but again, there was no option for family members with special needs. What the heck did Jimin's biological age matter when he needed the same amount of care as a primary school kid? Rapmonster nudged my toe again. "You're right." I told the dog, then selected 1 child, age six. 

There were more questions about my job, my housing situation, and my income. In the end, the computer told me I qualified for a monthly support of five-hundred thousand seven-hundred and thirty-three won. It wasn't much, but it would get us through the day. I downloaded the form, and started filling in my details. 

The questionnaire had been the easy part. Other than my name, address, telephone number and date of birth, they also wanted to know my education history, my parents' names and address as well as their work history and assets. There was no option to select relationship status: estranged.

Child's date of birth, sex, name of school. Please provide us with the following: certificate of birth, proof of school enrolment.

I threw the iPad on the floor, and Rapmonster looked up at me in shock. "The government knows special needs people exist? Right?" Rapmonster started waggling his tail and barked at my socks. 

"I have no idea what you're trying to tell me," I told the dog.

Rapmonster trotted to the entrance door, back to me, nudged my foot, then went back to the door, looking at me like he thought I was an idiot.

"I guess you want to go for a walk," I mused, and Rapmonster howled in agreement. 

"Okay, okay, let me just check on Jimin first." My brother had been asleep for three hours now, and while I didn't want to wake him up, I also didn't want him to come to his senses while being all alone. 

Jimin was still fast asleep. He laid spreadeagled on Joon's bed, blanket thrown aside, and snoring as if he was fighting an army of rainforests. He was out for good. For at least another hour or so, I would presume. Nevertheless, I left my phone with him in case he woke up and needed to call, well whomever.you stupid, dog

I halted…I never showed my brother how to use a phone… but I guess he would remember, from…well—before. Based on our conversation this morning, I had the feeling that Jimin did remember quite a lot. Or was that only my wishful thinking?

Rapmonster nudged my toe again, then let out an impatient growl.

"I'm coming, I'm coming, you big, fat, old dork."

I grabbed the leash, made sure I had a good grip on the hyperactive beast, and off we went. 

The weather had definitely changed for autumn. The air was moist and misty, and despite it being the middle of the afternoon it was dark enough for the streetlights to turn on. I carefully stepped around big puddles of mud on the ground, while Rapmonster seemed to be particularly fond of those and made sure to jump into each of them with great vigour. 

"Stop it, you stupid dog," I yelled at him, but probably the fact that I was laughing didn't really encourage the beast to listen to a single word. 

Maybe a dog was exactly what I needed. Outside in the crisp air, laughing at the dog's antic, my problems didn't seem half as severe as they did only a few minutes ago, when I was getting annoyed over online application forms and non-inclusive language in government documents. I may not have supportive parents, but I had great friends that had my back and a brother who loved me unconditionally. What more could I really want? Surely, I would make it through the occasional hardship. And perhaps Joon's intern was a little better in scraping together some useful information than I had been. I tried to reach for my phone to check for calls, but realised that I had left the device with Jimin. Well, worst case scenario, I'd give a call back later. 

There was a little park close to Joon's house from where I could already see some dogs running around freely. Rapmonster seemed to have spotted them too, as he was pulling into that direction. Other than playing dogs, there was a little cafe that seemed to be serving Hotteok and steaming hot cups of coffee, and I did quite fancy one of each. 

"Rapmonster," one of the other dog owners exclaimed, smiling widely at the mud-covered thirty kilograms of a dog that was currently busy sniffling her pockets for either drugs or treats. (It was Joon's dog. Both options were equally possible).

As it turned out it was the latter. The lady retrieved a bag of dry-looking dog-snacks from said pocket. "They're vegan and organic," she told me and I agreed that they looked the part. 

"And who are you?" Another lady asked with a raised eyebrow, as if she presumed I was a dog-napper and they had to plan a rescue mission. 

"Min. Min Yoongi. I'm a friend of Joon's"

"Joon?"

"Kim Namjoon. The dog's owner." 

Apparently that name didn't ring any bell either. Right. It was normally his neighbour who took the dog on afternoon walks. "I forgot the name of the lady who normally walks the dog for him. Perhaps in her sixties? A little square-shaped. Seems to love fancy hair accessories."

There was some communal nodding. 

"Well, then. In that case, you have to join us for coffee and sweets. What would you like? It's my treat?"

One of the ladies who wore a blue, woollen hat, grabbed my hand and walked me to the coffee stand. I don't know how I felt about being treated by a bunch of middle-aged ladies, but I didn't have the pocket money to complain. 

"So, tell me your name again, young man," a woman in a knitted cardigan enquired. She wore bright red lipstick and a matching beret as if she was the star in a cheesy Paris-based love drama. 

"Min Yoongi," I repeated. 

"That name rings a bell." Woollen Hat mused. 

I shrugged. "It's a name like sand on the beach. There are probably a thousand Min Yoongi's in this city alone."

I didn't think my parents had wasted a lot of time selecting a name for me. They'd probably named me after the first thing they'd seen in a phone book or something. 

"Well, one of them must be rather famous," Red Beret responded. I hear that name on the news all the time. 

"I thought I had heard it, too." Woollen Hat added. 

I shrugged. "No clue. I don't really watch the news."

"Oh, I do. Three times every day," a short haired lady in a green parka added and wiggled her eyebrows. 

"You don't watch the news," Woollen Hat replied. "You watch the anchorman."

The whole group, including Green Parka burst out into laughter. "He is rather handsome though, isn't he?"

"He's about half your age, Minlee," Red Beret laughed, reapplying her lipstick. I guessed she was the oldest in the group. 

"So?" Green Parka shrugged. "He's of age. What else is there to matter?"

More laughter, and I realised sixty-year-old women were the equivalent to sixteen-year-old boys. 

"So neither of you are married?" I asked, and was met by loud laughter. "Thirty-two years," Green Parka flashed a wedding band. 

"I'm divorced. Thrice." Red Beret purred, looking me up and down in a way I wasn't sure I was really comfortable with. "Husband number one was a mistake picked by my parents, and two and three were a lot younger than me."

"So how did they become your ex husbands?" Was I too intrusive? Before I could clap my mouth shut, Red Beret started to grin in delight, as if she had waited for this question. She sighed dramatically, then adjusted her headgear. "I had to return to Korea," she cried, as if this was some kind of insufferable hardship.

"Where had you been living before?"

"Oh, I was here and there and everywhere," she announced, and I could see some communal eye-rolling. This didn't seem to be the first time the other ladies heard the story. "I moved to NYC at age twenty-eight." She said, eyebrows raised. "That is in international age. You know that's different to the way Koreans count their years."

"I'm aware…my brother, he used to live abroad, too." I couldn't help but grin as I added,  "he figured it out the hard way. Tried to go nightclubbing, but they wouldn't let him, in explaining that according to his ID, he was two years too young." I bit my lips, looked down at my shoes. I hadn't thought of those ill-timed random drunk-calls Jimin sometimes made whenever something silly or stupid happened to him. There hadn't been any in the last ten months. There wouldn't be any more of those in the future. 

"Anyway," Red Beret continued, as if I hadn't opened my mouth. "I met husband number two at the Met." She looked at me as if that name was supposed to ring any bells. And I think I thought I heard it before… "Met…" I repeated. "The Metropolitan police? Was he an officer?"

More laughter was directed my way. 

"The art museum in NYC," Red Beret huffed. "He was a curator."

I had no idea what that meant, but not fancying being laughed at any more than necessary, I just nodded along. "He was younger than me by three years, and at that age, it seemed to be a big deal. But unlike here, no one in NYC cares about such things. And let me tell you, he was a Stallion with capital S." She winked. I blushed. 

"It lasted for ten years," she sighed, stopping the conversation. She had a sip of her coffee then looked at me expectantly. 

"What happened then?" I asked dutifully. 

Another theatrical sigh then Red Beret continued. "Well, he turned thirty-five."

"So?"

"Everything goes downhill at thirty-five," she wiggled her index finger a way to indicate what exactly it was that apparently went downhill. The party giggled again. 

I cleared my throat. What the fuck had I got myself into? "So, husband three?" I prompted, trying to get to the end of this convo as quick as I could.

"I had met him in NYC, too," Red Beret said, "but he was European," she looked up in a fake nonchalance as if this was something rather peculiar. 

"So are another seven-hundred million people," I shrugged.

"He was French, to be precise." The same look. 

Was there anything special about being French? Other than probably having baguette and red wine with every meal. 

Apparently so, because all other ladies started to either blush or giggle. This reminded me. I still had to call Sookie. She must be pretty upset with me by now. I mean, even more upset. I just hoped I hadn't reached breaking up upset, yet. Although I was certifiably a shitty boyfriend. 

"You're still with us?" Woollen Hat laughed, trying to get my attention. "I was asking three times now whether you would like another coffee. I'm getting a new round."

I looked down at the cup in my hand I hadn't even noticed that I already finished my first one. "Um… I think I better head home now, but thank you so much." I bowed, then called for Rapmonster, who was busy playing with the other dogs, and naturally wasn't paying any attention to me. I shouldn't have allowed the beast off the leash. 

"I guess your dog isn't done playing yet," Red Beret quipped, and put one of her talons on my shoulder. The gesture implied she wasn't done playing yet, either. I guess I wasn't supposed to be rude to older ladies, but that went one step too far. I took a step backwards. "I'm sorry, but I really need get home…to my… girlfriend. Her mother had a stroke recently…she's of a similar age as you, you know. So naturally I'm very, very concerned."

I'd never seen Mrs Kang as an old person. She was active, lively, and fun. But the talon disappeared from my shoulder that instant, and I couldn't hold back a tiny smile. Thank god I had moved my mask back up in time to conceal it. 

I called for Rapmonster again, and this time tried to bribe him with a treat. But the animal proved to be just as stubborn as his owner and pretended not to have heard me whatsoever. 

Green Parka and Woollen Hat took mercy on me, and called their own dogs back, whereas Red Beret was entirely focused on her cup of coffee now. 

But thanks to the help of the other ladies, Rapmonster finally had the mercy of trotting along. 

"I really shouldn't be giving you this," I told the dog as I fed him his treat. "You didn't deserve it, you stupid mule."

Rapmonster waggled his tail and gave my hand a hearty lick in answer. I sighed. I was thoroughly unable to remain upset with dogs, just as much as I was thoroughly unable to remain upset with Jimin. I had turned into a softie. What would D-dawg say, when we met tonight? 

My stomach jolted. Today was Friday. I was supposed to meet my friend. And I had almost completely forgotten about it. Shit. 

Once again, I tried to reach for my phone to cancel for tonight, but it hadn't magically appeared in my pocket.

"Remind me to text my friend later," I told Rapmonster, who barked in agreement. "I guess I'll be taking my leave now, ladies." I bowed. "Thank you very much for the company."

"Lovely to meet you too," Woollen Hat nodded. 

"Maybe you'll join us again another time." Green Parka agreed, then leaned forward. "My daughter Rachel is a little older than you, but if you and your girlfriend don't work out, let me know. She's a nurse, you know."

Woollen Hat coughed, then slapped the other woman's shoulder, "Your Rachel is in her mid-thirties, isn't she? And didn't you say she hasn't dated in years? I think my Jisoo would be a much better match."

Green Parka huffed. "Last I heard, Jisoo was busy doing her exams. Isn't she a little young to date?"

"Didn't you hear? This fine young gentleman is currently in a relationship. By the time they break up, my Jisoo will be just the perfect age."

I didn't wait around long enough to hear the rest of this rather enlightening conversation, but I made a mental note not to take Rapmonster to the park anytime soon. 

But—I had to laugh out loud at the idea—I really needed to send Joon their way one day. I'm sure that would be fun to watch. 

I shook my head. I really shouldn't be mean to my friend who was helping me so much. But that…It would be a crime against the universe if I didn't throw Joon into the deep end at least once. 

I got back to Joon's and let myself in. Jimin seemed to be talking to…someone? Perhaps to the overly loud television…apparently In the Soop had a new season. 

Rapmonster immediately bolted his way, loudly barking, and his wet cloth of a tongue ready for a very thorough greeting. 

Jimin squealed in delight then started to giggle. "Raymond is home." He told whoever it was he had been talking to. "And he's licking my face. That's funny. Maybe you come and he lick your face, too. Joonie is living in the house with the green door. Do you know the house with the green door?"

Apparently, the crackpots in his favourite show were discussing how to cook clams properly. I rolled my eyes. None of them sounded capable. Especially the fake blonde one who looked like a dumpling that was found under a bridge. What a bunch of baboons. 

"Yes, Yoongles is home too. But Yoongles is cranky."

I was what? I made my way in the direction of his voice. I only hoped there wasn't any other cooking attempt.

"Yes," Jimin continued. "Yoongles is always cranky after drinking too much." There was a small pause. "Yoongles drank sooooooo much this morning. And then he was singing weirdly. Do you wanna know what?"

Excuse me? 

"Yoongles needing chocolate. But it's my chocolate, so he can't have it." Jimin's voice didn't come from the kitchen, but Joon's bedroom, and that didn't make the situation any better. With a jolt, I realised that Jimin was talking to someone. ON MY PHONE. 

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