𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐒

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ⁴

"Anyway" Jungkook continues when I don't say anything.

"Im really sorry about earlier. I didn't mean to ditch you for Lisa. I just thought- I mean- you did say you werent hungry. So I assumed you wouldn't care. I feel awful."

"It's fine" I say. No it's not.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

"Ok, if you're certain."

"God Kook, it's fine. Just drop it" It's not fine at all.

There's a silence at the other end.

"Sorry" I say. "I didn't mean to snap."

"It's okay. Why aren't you asleep?"

Another pause.

"Um. I wanted to apologize... and, well, my parents are arguing again. So it's kind of loud" I can hear the exhaustion in Jungkook's voice.

"I'm so sorry, Kookie." Jungkook's parents fight all the time, and he thinks he's good at hiding how much it bothers him.

"It's okay. I just kinda wish they would get a divorce already, you know? I'm so tired of hearing all of this. They act like maybe if they can just scream at each other, that'll fix everything. And then Dad takes it out on me."

"I know. You don't deserve that." He really doesn't. Anyone who can't see how amazing of a person Jungkook is can fight me. Not like l'd win, but l'd certainly go down with the world knowing how perfect he is.

"But what if I do deserve it?" Jungkook's voice is quiet.
"I feel like it's my fault their marriage is falling apart. Dad keeps telling me that."

I sit up in bed, a spark of rage going
through me, directed at his dad. I hate that guy more then my life, which is saying a lot.

"No way, Kook. Listen to me, none of this is your fault, okay? They're the ones that don't know how to love each other right, you have nothing to do with this. Don't let anyone tell differently"

"Thanks, Tae. I really needed that." I can hear him smiling. "You're always there for me.

"Yeah." I'm quiet again. "Anytime."

"You know, you never told me why you're still up"

"No reason. Just can't sleep:"

"Okay. You know you can always talk to me, right? You're my best friend, I'Il be here."

"Yeah, of course." I don't say how much I hate that term, best friend. I want to be so much more then best friends.

"Good. Anyway. I'll see you tomorrow, I guess. Just so you know, Lisa might sit with us as lunch, I hope that's okay with you"

My blood freezes. No, no it's not okay with me. "It's fine."

"Awesome. Good night."

"Night" I hang up, and then bury my face in my hands. I hate this feeling so, so much. I just want it to go away. I make a split-second decision.

Sliding off the bed, I stand up and go into my bathroom, opening the drawer where l keep the little box. I roll my sleeves up.

It's been a few weeks since I've done this, but the feeling is just as good as I make the first few cuts on my wrist. It does exactly what I need it to; all the thoughts spinning around in my head come to a stand still. And all I feel is the sweet relief of pain.

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