"This is Jeon Jungkook, CEO of Seoul Higher View. You must pour all your skill, energy and talent into protecting him from all these attacks."
My head snaps up to meet eyes as bewildered as mine.
"You-"
"Do you know each other?"
***A week earlier*...
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■ 🍁 ■
| Hyejin
I rush into the hospital as soon as visiting hours start. I'm so nervous, so worried about Jin. I slightly jump, feeling someone take my hand but relax the second I realise it's Jungkook.
"It's okay, Hyejin." He gently squeezes my hand and I take in a shaky breath.
I wish it were. I wish I could say it's okay. But truth is, I don't actually know if it is. While we wait for the nurse to tell us which number his room is, I turn to Jungkook.
"Jungkook..." I start, hesitant and he nods, keeping silent to let me go on. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Jimin. I really wanted to-"
"Hyejin." He cuts me and I look up into his dark orbs, nervous and worried. "Don't apologises. Don't be sorry. The only people who should be sorry are Jimin and all the people who work with him."
I let him take both my bandaged hands and pull me closer to him. I feel my hands slightly shaking.
"Ma'am?" I turn my head from Jungkook to the nurse. "He's on the VIP floor, room 238." I nod my head and throw a worried glance towards Jungkook.
"And how is he?" Jungkook asks before I do. I glance at the nurse anxiously.
"We're not sure yet. The surgery went well. But he's had antecedents regarding head injuries and we can't tell just yet how well he will recover if he does."
I stumble on my feet and vaguely feel Jungkook holding me. But there's nothing I can hear, nothing I can see.
I'm standing there, the ground crumbling beneath my feet. So if he doesn't make it it's Taehyung and my dad's fault? He'll have killed his son after all...
That can't be.
I bury my face in Jungkook's chest, denial and pain gripping on my heart. I wish that I could just go back in time, make sure that never happened.
"Shhh, hey, Hyejinah..." I hold onto Jungkook like he's the last thing keeping the pieces together, which he post probably is. My first instinct is to just burst, smash everything, end the people responsible for this. My hands are slightly shaking and I know my body is aching for me to just snap.
Instead, I grip on the material of his sweater and hold onto him tightly. I close my eye and focus on stabilising my breathing. I let the tears stream down silently. I can't lose my brother. I physically and psychologically can't.
