Deadline

1. Crimson Stain

It was bad enough living the worst moments of your life once, but being stuck in a loop of seeing it again and again with the same outcome was worse, especially when it was overshadowed by outside voices and hospital machinery.

'On today with 'Cooking with Murgda, we will be learning about...'

Jungkook laid on his back on the stage in his mind as those words circled his head from somewhere that felt distant and far away. Blackness was all he could see swirling above him while a pain consumed his chest. His body felt anchored to the ground it was lying on as he brought up a finger to touch the painful spot, bringing it away to see crimson stain his fingertips.

'Crimson Stain! That'll be the name of your first album!' said the record executive five years ago when Jungkook had stood in the office; a rookie that always thought he was right. 'It illustrates heartbreak in a beautiful light. People will be attracted to you like moths to a flame!'

His eyes stared at his coated fingertips. They were such a dark crimson that they almost blended in with the blackness above him.

'Jungkook! You ought to stand out. Why are you trying to blend it to succeed? Where's my charming Kookie with the uplifting messages and attitude?' his mother asked three years ago, right before his world tour. It had been a time of brightly dyed hair and even brighter and brasher decisions.

'I'm an idol now,' Jungkook could hear his irritated voice echo out. 'I'm not blending in.'

'But you're not being you either,' his mother had reasoned.

'What if I hated who I was?! Did you ever think of that?!'

Jungkook began to realize that the pain in his bosom was the same as the pain of regret he had felt that day after saying those words to his mother; his first and most avid fan. Perhaps pain was all the same in the end. The same with regret.

'What's it feel like to be one of the world's most beloved idols?' asked an overdressed and overdone up reporter as Jungkook sat squished in a chair that he remembered later having a sore bum from. Squeals and cheers erupted from the audience in front of the two of them; fans with signs baring their adoration for him being waved about.

'Well, I wouldn't say I'm the most beloved,' he said, trying to be humble as he flashed his rehearsed smile at the camera.

What Jungkook had said had been a lie. Everything he said and did felt like a lie. He was consumed by expectations of what he was to be to other people and never felt like he had a chance to be himself. His mother had been right. He wasn't being himself. The pain in his chest spread like fire as he stood under a spotlight on a stage; his crimson stained fingertips about a shiny purple microphone.

🎶'Every heartache feels like fire

Burning brighter than fiery coals.

A pain that you cannot ignore

An inferno that consumes your soul.

You left this crimson stain with me

When you took my heart away.

Someday I may heal from this pain,

But today is not that day.'🎶

The roar of the crowd at the conclusion of his first chart-topping hit merged with that of the ambulance sirens.

'Oh dear! Preparations are never easy!' tittered Murgda's voice. 'Mistakes happen to everyone. Every day is a new day! We can still save this though!'

'How is he today doctor?'

Jungkook recognized the voice that cut through his thoughts and the Murgda cooking show. It was his manager. He came to check on him once in a while; helped him to break this vicious cycle that Jungkook kept finding himself in as he laid in this painful darkness.

'It is the same as the other day,' a doctor said. 'He's been like this for weeks now with no signs of improvement. We might not be able to save him. We might have to contact family and start considering...'

Considering what? His death? Jungkook felt the pain intensify at the thought; the darkness shifting as he stared down the barrel of a gun that was pointing right at him; fans screeching at the sight of a masked gunman emerging from off stage.

'You don't deserve to live,' the garbled voice reached Jungkook's ears before the 'Bang' that discharged with the bullet consumed everything all at once.

'Are you sure it's that time? Is it really time to consider that?'

'I'm sorry, but it might be...'

'BANG!'

'BEEP!'

'BANG!'

'BEEP!'

The sound of the gun and that of the monitor Jungkook was hooked up to seemed to create a harsh duet as the sounds of scuffling reached Jungkook in his abyss; a solid yet cold presence on his pain filled chest.

'Isn't that a good sign of life?' asked his manager.

'Not necessarily. I still think you should prepare for the worst.'

Jungkook wasn't ready for the worst. Staring up at the darkness yawning before him, he still felt tethered to where he was.

'I don't know if anyone is out there,' Jungkook thought, 'but please...please grant this wish. I wish I could have a chance to track down my killer and bring them to justice. Please.'

'I will let the company know then,' responded his manager to the doctor's words. 'We will place the necessary calls.'

Soon Jungkook was left alone once again with his cycle of thoughts and memories and Murgda's failed attempt at chicken pot pie. He had no clue that - like Murgda was getting a do-over on her recipe - he was about to get the same with his life.

- - -

AN: I tried to experiment with writing this chapter. Hopefully none of you are confused! Thanks for checking this out and see you in the next update!