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Kim Taehyung - considered to be the idol of idols in the k-pop industry, the epitome of perfection, the object of envy for many, and the role model for every idol in the Korean music scene. He was the face of k-pop, the soulf...
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╔═━▒ ۞ ▒━═╗ AWAKE ╚═━▒ ۞ ▒━═╝
Yi-Seo
On the other side of the bed in the small space next to the wall, Taehyung is lying sprawled out on the floor in an inebriated state. In a corner, there is a toppled-over empty bottle of alcohol—the sight of which makes my head spin, and my mouth go dry.
I thought I took away all his bottles, and how the hell did he get access to this? Shit!
I watch with apprehension as Jimin goes down on his knees and lifts Taehyung’s wrist in his shaking hand to check for his pulse.
“His pulse is okay,” Jimin mutters weakly, relief evident in his voice as he dismisses a drop of sweat that rolls down his temple and towards his jaw.
“I have no idea where he got that bottle from. He isn’t going to wake up now, is he?” My fears hit an all-time high, and my chest feels tight when the powerful smell of weed attacks my nostrils the closer I get to Taehyung.
The answer is unquestionably a big fat ‘NO’ because the stench of alcohol and weed surrounding Taehyung is too strong, implying that he had probably been drinking and smoking until an hour or so ago.
“Taehyung,” Jimin taps Taehyung’s flushed cheek and tries to jostle him out of his drunken slumber, but as expected, there is no response from him.
“Taehyung-ssi!” I call out in a shaky voice, falling on my knees and vigorously rustling him by his knees.
Only his body sways weakly, but there is absolutely no other reaction except for his head that lulls about and his arms that flap in slow motion, and these are sufficient to break my tears free. Anger, disappointment, frustration, and helplessness are all fighting it out inside my chest, not knowing which emotion should burst out first.
“How the HELL can he be like this? He’s so damned irresponsible! We’re doing all of this to get him what he deserves, and look at what he has done now!” I cry out furiously, rising to my feet and slamming my handbag on Taehyung’s bed as I break down on the spot, my forehead buried in my hands.
Jimin stands up on his feet and nervously keeps combing his hair with his fingers, and I’m unable to catch his facial expressions because my glasses are fogged, and my eyesight is so blurry right now.
“Yi-Seo, please calm down,” Jimin holds my arms on both sides and tries to console me. “Taehyung is addicted, for God’s sake. Right now, he is heavily drunk, and we only have less than two hours to show up at court. He must be present in court, and we need to think,” he summarizes the situation in a voice so stable, and he is being in his best composure given how shitty the entire setting is.
I’m the exact opposite of him right now—crying, shattered and unable to think straight.
“He isn’t going to wake up,” I cry out, shaking my head, resulting in more tears pouring out of my eyes, and Jimin’s hold on my arms tighten.
