When Kim Taehyung's fictional romance with his costar Jeon Jeongguk starts to feel more genuine than anything he accomplished in his entire acting career, he believes it shouldn't be a problem: after all, it's just acting.
But isn't it wrong to be...
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The ride to Jeongguk's house was silent.
However, while Taehyung was sitting patiently, Jeongguk looked like he was ready to throw open the car door and run the rest of the way to his house. Of course, he didn't let that happen, but there wasn't much else he could really do.
He was incredibly restless, and he supposed Jeongguk couldn't hear him after he called out to him softly multiple times. He wouldn't respond to his name, and when Taehyung tried to talk him, he dismissed him and whispered "I don't know" over and over. Whether it was genuine confusion or the fact he was stressed— he was still in pain.
Taehyung didn't exactly know what to say, or how to properly calm him down, fearing he might do something wrong. Hoseok wasn't responding to his frantic text messages. He begged him for some help or at least an answer as to why Jeongguk was freaking out but all he received was radio silence.
This whole new side to him was different to say the least.
Taehyung was completely left in the dark, but he couldn't bring himself to really... get mad at him.
No, he wasn't mad at all, regardless if Jeongguk kept fidgeting beside him and whispering all sorts of things beneath his breath. If he were to be mad, he would be mad at himself. It was obvious there was more to him, and all he did was give up. He never gave up, and now look: he couldn't do anything but watch him suffer.
The fact he gave up that easily left him unable to focus on anything but the incessant, heavy throb of his heart. He knew he had to apologize for being so callous, so hot-headed. If only he took the time to listen, to truly understand him, then he wouldn't have to watch Jeongguk unwind next to him with a heavy chest and his throat so tight from the guilt that strangeled him.
At least they were in his neighborhood. He could tell judging how Jeongguk drummed his fingers over his knees, tugged at his ear, and constantly looked out the window, the crease between his brow growing more and more prominent the longer they spent in the car.
"Can you drive any faster?" Taehyung whispered toward the driver, glancing over at Jeongguk, who was now rubbing his palms up and down his thighs.
"I'm doing my best sir. It's a residential area," The driver replied. Taehyung sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat. "But this also isn't my first time driving Mr. Jeon back home, if you were wondering."
"Is it always like this?" A burst of hope exploded in his chest, making him sit up in place. Even though he didn't know the driver, at least someone who knew about Jeongguk was telling him the truth.
"Sometimes," The driver winced. "Even though it's tough to watch, it's best to watch him silently and let him come out of it himself. Mr. Jeon made the orders, and the only time Ms. Park steps in is when he begins to hurt himself."
"He hurts himself?" Taehyung's stomach plummeted.
"Nothing major. Although he's tried to pull his own hair out sometimes," The driver said as they pulled up into Jeongguk's driveway. Taehyung didn't ask anymore questions and glanced out the window to see where Jeongguk lived.
