La Vie En Noir | ᴛᴀᴇᴋᴏᴏᴋ

❖ 06 | mirrors and knuckles

kth - 24 - present

Once Jungkook left Taehyung ordered lunch, famished due to his missed dinner and breakfast. He was sure he was in a dream, or it must have been his imagination.

Why were they acting like strangers? Taehyung knew he had begun the act out of pure impulse, but why did Jungkook play along? He felt like he was in a trance, eating bite after bite of his lunch.

Once he realized his plate was empty—and that he was scooping out nothing but air—Taehyung got up, calling his driver and signalling to the lady that his meal was finished. Just as he pulled out his wallet the woman shook her head, extending her arm,

"The man from earlier paid in advance, there is some change leftover though."

Taehyung raised his eyebrows in surprise before telling her to keep the change. She bowed, escorting him to his Maybach.

The car journey back was quiet, Taehyung didn't play Eartha Kitt's jazz songs like he usually did. Instead, he just stared at the sky, noticing the clouds looked stagnant as buildings flashed past.

Taehyung nodded towards security, walking into the elevator. Every wall was covered in mirrors, forcing him to look back at his own face. Feline eyes stared back at him, sharp and unwavering. Minor dark spots resting under his eyes and his hair fell in loose curls, covering his eyebrows.

CRACK

The loud sound of glass shattering surprised him as he looked down at his hand. There was a shard of the mirror lodged under his knuckles, which were red and bruised. He sighed looking back up at the mirror, it was cracked, his now-distorted face staring back at him.

Pulling the shard out of his hand he walked out of the automated doors, blood now sluggishly leaking from the wound.

It had been impulse and frustration that led him to punch the glass. Perhaps it was the emotion that threatened to overtake him after seeing Jungkook— but he blamed it on the threat from Dongbaek.

Heading to the kitchenette he pulled the drawer open reaching for a vial and one of the packaged needles. Some part inside him warned him that he was being reckless but he pointedly ignored it.

Normally he had half a vial, twice a day. One in the morning and one in the evening. It wasn't enough to really get him high, just enough to extinguish the craving. At the moment it was afternoon, not usually when he began craving the drug.

He injected a whole vial.

At first, it felt normal, the relaxing of his tense muscles, the relief. But then it didn't. The unfamiliar feeling of getting high overtook.

Taehyung put down the injection and went to sit on the couch. He waited for the adrenaline to rush through him, for the pent-up frustration to flow out of him.

Eventually it came, that feeling of just being light and clear-headed. Taehyung leaned backwards, his back hitting the couch. After a few seconds of staring at the ceiling he burst out laughing. He didn't know why, maybe it was the irony of it all. Just after he had learned to somewhat survive without Jungkook, he popped back into Taehyung's life acting as if nothing had happened—maybe it was just the heroin flowing through his veins.

Taehyung looked at his phone, his contacts looking back at him. Mindlessly he pressed on Jimin's contact name, staring at his face while waiting.

It rang a few times before there was a response,

"Yes?" Jimin's face popped up on the screen. He looked slightly annoyed.

"Come over please," Taehyung said, not really aware of what he was doing.

"I have a life Taehyung," he sighed looking up from the screen at someone else.

"Yeah... I'm sorry that you're my only friend and that I'm fucking lonely, sleep-deprived-" his ranting was cut off by Jimin.

"Are you drunk?" Jimin sounded confused, probably because Taehyung would never say such things sober.

"Nah, I'm on fucking cloud nine," he smiled lopsidedly.

Jimin was now frowning, "are you high?"

No response.

"Good lord, I'm gonna have to come over?" Jimin was rubbing his temples, disappointment evident on his features.

Taehyung felt like he should be guilty but the drug didn't allow him to feel anything negative.

"I'm gonna leave," Jimin said to the other person in the room with him, "and Tae, try not to jump off the balcony." he cut the call.

Taehyung stared at the blank ceiling, hand still gripping his phone. He tugged at his tie with his free hand, feeling suffocated by his tight clothes. Taking his suit jacket off he went to the bathroom, he turned the bath on and let jazz music waft through the house.

As he slipped into the warm water he felt even lighter, he was practically floating without a single worry plaguing his mind. After a good couple of minutes he heard someone shuffling around the penthouse, Jimin presumably.

Jimin was calling his name but Taehyung didn't respond, he wasn't sure why. After a minute Jimin opened the bathroom door. He averted his eyes from Taehyung's very naked body, instead choosing to look at the marble tiles.

"Why didn't you tell me you were here? I got worried," Jimin looked disappointed. Like a parent finding out their child did something terribly wrong.

"I don't know."

Taehyung's voice was soft. Whenever he was intoxicated he tended to be the sad, self-pitying, and questioning-my-existence kind.

"Put on some clothes."

After Taehyung put on an olive green robe that barely seemed to cover anything he padded out into the living room. Eyes trained on Jimin, who was pouring himself a glass of champagne.

"Do you have any meetings or plans for today?" Jimin asked, swirling the liquid around.

"Yeah, I think I have to meet Jungkook."

Jimin turned around, eyes wide, "Jungkook as in— The Jungkook?"

this was originally supposed to be way longer but I decided to split it into two chapters