Living in a viciously boring cycle of tips and refills, a young waitress finds herself being pulled headfirst into the world of sex, drugs, and rock & roll.
With an unexpected turn of events, Lyla embarks on a journey with the three handsome men fro...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Don't mean no harm. I never knew that life was gonna be so hard.
Hey, when I show my scars, don't be alarmed."
-Scars by Dirty Honey
As promised, Jimin texted me the address of the restaurant with plans to meet me there shortly. He still isn't willing to tell me what he has to do beforehand and since Taehyung and Jungkook are still here at the hotel, I know it doesn't have anything to do with work. Every time I cutely begged him to spill the big secret today, Jimin would just giggle and tell me to quit being so curious. Even up to the point where he quickly gave me a kiss goodbye before making a mad dash out of his hotel room as if he was going to be late to get to somewhere.
Swiping on some mascara, I realize that Jungkook still had my earrings. Picking up my phone, I try to call him but get no answer. Assuming he's probably down at the gym with Tae, I look through the spare room keys each one of them gave me in search of JK's suite number and make my way down to try to figure out where he placed them.
Reaching his suite down the hall, my brow furrows at the sound of music playing and glass breaking. I open the door as quickly as I can only to spot Jungkook sitting on the small couch with his elbows on his knees and his hands gripping into his hair. It doesn't even seem as if he notices my arrival.
The half-empty bottle of whiskey and the broken drinking glass on the table catches my attention before a small bag of some kind of illegal substance comes into view. Taking slow steps forward, I anxiously approach him, hoping that he didn't partake in anything like this when he had assured me in the past that he doesn't do hard drugs.
"Jungkook?" I announce myself once I've stepped up to the other side of the coffee table. Shaking his head, he grips onto his hair even tighter and I slowly sit down next to him. "No?" I question in regard to his gesture, "No, you don't want to talk or...?"
"No," his voice is extremely unstable and my heart sinks at the sound but the moment he looks up at me with tear-stained cheeks and red-rimmed eyes that soften the second he sees me, I know that something serious is going on, "I'm not okay."
Reaching out for him, he slightly flinches before my hand could touch his shoulder and I pull back to give him space. "What's going on? Is that cocaine again?"
"Heroin," he spits with anger and disgust in his tone as he stares at the substance on the table.
My heart breaks at the name of the drug, knowing that it's what almost killed his mother and left him at a young age to be mistreated and to fend for himself. There's no need for him to explain his current state as it's all too apparent to me why he's struggling tonight.
"Why wasn't I good enough, Lyla?" He sniffles and looks at me, "Why didn't my mother love me more than this shit?" He picks up the small bag and tightly grips it in his fist before harshly slamming it down onto the table and making me jump. "Shouldn't I have been more fucking important than the need to get high and damn near kill herself?! Do you realize how terrifying it was as a boy to see his mother convulsing and choking on her own vomit? I still see that image, Lyla. It still haunts my dreams."
