Cabin 12 wasn’t anything special — just some creaky wooden floors, bunk beds, a few dusty windows, and the faint scent of bug spray and old pine. But after the long bus ride, the uphill hike, and the camp counselor’s overenthusiastic welcome speech, it might as well have been a five-star hotel.
Jimin was the first to walk in, dragging a bright yellow duffel behind him and immediately collapsing on the bottom bunk closest to the fan.
“Okay. If anyone tries to take this bed, we’re fighting.”
He didn’t sound threatening — more like someone one mosquito bite away from losing it. His cheeks were flushed from the heat, pink hair sticking to his forehead.
Namjoon followed behind, already looking like he regretted every life choice that led him here. His bag was way too full, and a book had fallen out somewhere back on the trail.
“Does anyone know if there’s air conditioning? Or a library? Or literally anything that doesn’t involve bugs?”
He picked a bunk in the corner and started organizing his stuff like they were museum pieces.
Yoongi showed up next, didn’t say a word at first — just tossed his bag on the bottom bunk across the room, laid down on it fully clothed, and pulled his hoodie over his face. He groaned.
“If anyone talks to me before I’ve had water and silence, I’m haunting this cabin.”
Right on cue, the door banged open and Hobi practically fell in. Sunglasses perched on his head, shirt half untucked, and a water bottle swinging dangerously from his backpack strap.
“I found the snack shack already. No one panic. Also, dibs on the bunk near the outlet.”
He threw his bag on a top bunk and immediately started fanning himself with a camp map.
Taehyung strolled in like it was a movie scene. Bucket hat, earbuds in, gaze slowly taking everything in. He didn’t say anything at first — just sat on a bunk by the window and stared out like he was watching something no one else could see.
After a beat, he said, mostly to himself, “Smells like trees in here.”
Seokjin was next — perfectly dressed, not a speck of dirt on him, pulling a suitcase with actual wheels. He blinked at the cabin like it personally offended him.
“...There are no mirrors.”
He sighed heavily, chose the bunk with the least amount of dust, and pulled out skincare products like he was prepping for war.
Finally, Jungkook strolled in last — tank top, tattoos peeking out, chewing gum like he wasn’t fazed at all. He scanned the room, nodded once, and tossed his stuff onto a top bunk without asking.
“Name’s Jungkook. I’m chill as long as no one steals my food.”
No one replied right away.
Instead, they all just kind of... looked at each other. Sweaty, tired, weirdly mismatched. Not friends. Not enemies. Just a bunch of strangers about to spend the entire summer in the same room, with spiders, shared bathrooms, and no WiFi.
The awkward silence lasted exactly four seconds before Jimin kicked off his shoes and said, “Well. Who snores?”
Outside, another pair of footsteps crunched on the dirt path.