Taehyung was forced to lose Jungkook to love himself. To lose his best friend, his first love. To lose the pain of his casual cruelty. He had to lose everything, and leave it all behind to find himself.
All Jungkook ever wanted was music, and Taehyu...
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10 June, 2027 - Paris
"When I grow up I'm going to have paintings in all the art gallery's in the world."
Jungkook remembered the day Taehyung had screamed it into the wind. He'd been eleven, and Taehyung had been the coolest person he knew. He drew and painted everywhere he could; on the sidewalk, on walls, on their desks in the classroom, in his notebooks. On the inside his wardrobe because his parents never let him draw in the house, or all over Jungkook's bedroom walls - his grandparents let Taehyung do it because he was talented, and they knew his parents were rigidly against him being an artist in any capacity.
When they were kids, there was never a day that Taehyung didn't have paint or pen somewhere on his clothes, skin, even in his hair. The rest of that day's memory squeezed in Jungkook's chest. They'd been standing on the top of the tray of the rusted old truck in the field outside of town. Their bikes were propped up against the side - Taehyung's a rusted blue gifted to him from a neighbour, Jungkook's was new and bright green. He'd wanted a red one, but didn't complain because his grandparents always got him things when he really wanted them. Not like Taehyung's parents, who barely remembered he existed, except to yell at him for something stupid that wasn't his fault, and hardly ever remembered to feed him considering the amount of meals he ate at Jungkook's house.
It was almost the end of summer and the wind had been blowing hot all day. Ten-year-old Jungkook had looked at Taehyung, amazed, inspired, and grinned. He remembered jumping on top of the drivers cab, throwing his own arms out wide just like Taehyung had.
"I'll be in the best band in the world and play music in every city and country ever," he declared.
Taehyung had turned around and beamed at him. Jungkook could remember his smile exactly because his shadow had blocked the sun and he could make out Taehyung's expression without the glare of light. He'd always had a smile that could brighten any gloomy day or mood. No matter what, Taehyung's smile never failed to make him happy.
"And in each city, I'll come with you, and we can go to your concerts, and then to my exhibitions."
Jungkook jumped down, the old truck rattled under the force of his eleven-year-old weight. He and Taehyung stood in front of one another.
