One-Way Ticket | Jeon Jungkook

thirty

Hi everyone, I'm back! Ngl I'm writing this chapter with a fever so excuse me if anything comes off weird 😭 I just felt like you deserved a chapter after so long lol, enjoy!

TW: Violence, mental breakdowns

The door slammed closed, so loud that it echoed throughout the entire dorm and reminded Jungkook of the blasts of music from earlier in the night. But with no time to ease his broken heart, Jimin pried the door open and stared at him with those wide eyes, as if he couldn't recognize his own friend anymore. Jungkook had to admit, he had been acting different and distant for the past weeks. He was void of a purpose.
"Jungkook- Please just listen to what I have to say!" Jimin pleaded and held the door open with such strength that not even Jungkook could close it. "Please, stop running," he sounded out of breath. They had just gotten home from the concert; it was late into the night and his room was dark. The others were slowly heading to bed, but deep down Jungkook knew they were listening. Everyone had been on edge these past days, waiting for the impending moment he'd snap.
"I don't want to listen." Jungkook mumbled angrily and pushed against the door, but Jimin insisted with those piercing eyes.
"You don't even know what I'm going to say!" He said and Jungkook scoffed.
"Yes I do! You're going to tell me to forgive her!" Jungkook bellowed before exhaling deeply, looking into the floor and turning his back to Jimin. "Hyung, I can't. Leave me alone." He could feel his older brother's gaze on his back and tried his best to stay composed. The dorm had gone so quiet that he thought Jimin might've finally left.

"She's our friend too, you know." It wasn't a question, rather a statement, and Jungkook felt his insides churn with rage. They didn't understand, he had put his everything into her, every single part of his soul he had devoted, only for her to betray him. And only for his family to say something like this. Jungkook spun around on his heel and seethed through his teeth, warm tears in his eyes.
"And you're not mine?! You're supposed to be my best friend! How can you take her side?" He cried, a greater feeling of betrayal flooding his insides, pointing at his chest. Jimin's soft eyes looked upon him with pity, a mellow tone of his voice, and Jungkook felt his body shake. He was exhausted. The sleepless nights and the restless days haunted him, and on top of that: a concert he barely made it through because he was faced with her again. It was her face that haunted him. Those deep, beautiful eyes, the gentle curve of her cupid's bow and that sweet smile. That sweet smile he had now learned to resent.

"I'm not taking anyone's side, Jungkook. We just want you two to work this out." Jungkook shook his head at those words, liar, he thought.
"You don't understand, Hyung. She hurt me. She hurt me really bad." He said as the tears streamed down his cheeks. Jimin sighed and tried to step closer, but Jungkook took a step back.
"I know you're hurt Jungkook. I know, trust me, we all do. And we want to help, but you're not letting us." Jimin's arms looked inviting and for a moment Jungkook debated giving in. If he was being truthful, he just wanted someone to comfort him, hold him close and tell him it'd be alright. That she wasn't really gone.
"Both of you are hurt... Did you even properly look at her? Jungkook she was broken. Maybe if you'd listened to her instead of storming off, it might've made sense!" Jimin argued and Jungkook's body tensed.
"I listened plenty." He said gravely, staring at his feet.
"Really?"
"I had nothing more to say, nor to hear."
"That's a lie, and you know it." His eyes snapped up.
"I-"
"Stop lying to yourself. The quicker this is solved, the better for everyone involved. You're only hurting yourself this way, Kook-ah." Jimin sighed tiredly, staring at him blankly. "Come talk to me when you're ready."
"Jimin wait-" Jungkook called out before he turned down the hall. "I'm sorry." And when Jimin opened his arms for him he didn't hesitate.

◦◦,'°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°',◦◦

The lights passed by outside the cab window as I left the arena. The show had finally started, and the music blasted so loudly I felt it reverberate through the window. I leaned my cheek against the cold glass, the autumn air seeping through the cracks of the old car. I could see my reflection in the glass every time we passed by a streetlight, and it wasn't a good look. On my way here I had been excited to see him. Now I was sure it was over. My eyes were puffy, and my face swollen, red and severely distressed. The taxi driver had taken one look at me and then promptly looked the other way and made sure not to engage in conversation for the whole ride. I felt a newfound sort of numbness. The radio played gently.