Vacant place for death[JENSOO]

33

As I raced through the busy streets of Los Angeles, panic filled my head with emptiness, and my heart, thudding in my chest, drove fear through my veins. An hour and a half of an exhausting trip flashed by in seconds, and only when I was already in the elevator, slowly crawling to the floors of penthouses, to the endless accompaniment of classical music, leaning against a steel wall, I allow myself to catch my breath and try to calm down.

Everything will be fine!

Damn you!

Now I will see Jennie, hug her, and all the strife in my feelings and in my body will pass... And then I'll tell Jungkook about the terrible news...

After another five floors, I even manage to smile maliciously when I realize that I swept through the lobby of the hotel so quickly that Mr. Suho did not even have time to see me off with a contemptuous look, not to drag me into another unpleasant conversation with veiled insults in my address. And this, admittedly, slightly improves the mood, helping to wait patiently for the desired 67th floor.

However, when I get out of the elevator, my stomach convulsively contracts again, making another frightened somersault.

Lord Jesus, how tired I am of being constantly in a state of tension!

Fucking! Fucking! Fucking maniac!

Pulling the bag off my shoulder, I cautiously peek through the wide-open doors of the penthouse, from where the obscene rap is heard in a loud recitative. Jungkook is standing in the center of the living room, giving instructions to the right and left, and some people in overalls are scurrying around him.

-Jungkook, what's going on?!- I dropped my bag in the hallway and came closer.

-We're leaving for filming!- He spread his hands in confusion.

What the fuck!

This can't be happening!

Jennie promised, didn't she...

-Where is she?

Waving in the direction of the bedroom, the guy hurried to the loud screams coming from the terrace.

Some strange feeling, something similar to a feeling of hopelessness or a foregone conclusion, comes over me when I reach for the door handle. More than anything, I want to pull my trembling hand away and, turning around, hurriedly leave, hoping that when I return here in the evening, everything will fall into place and be the same as in previous evenings. But I don't leave myself a chance to escape. Rubbing the bridge of my nose in frustration, I absentmindedly run my fingers through my hair and resolutely open the door. She stands at the window that has been freed from the curtains and, with her hands behind her back, looks into the distance. Here, too, people are scurrying around everywhere, putting her things in boxes. Someone comes in and out. But it seems that the noise and din in the room does not touch her, it's as if they are not there for her, or maybe she herself is not here.

-Jennie?

If she didn't expect me to arrive so early, she didn't even flinch.

And she didn't turn around.

I take a few hesitant steps and freeze in the middle of the bedroom, suddenly for the first time in a long time, feeling superfluous here.

-Jennie, why does Jungkook say you're leaving?

Shifting from one foot to the other, she slowly turned around. The bright midday sun, invading the room through huge windows, envelops it, leaving me to contemplate only a silhouette. The silence is oppressive, and the sun rays hiding the girl's expression from me are annoying. I'm angry, clenching my teeth...