GIRL GROUP | jjk

Chapter 24

That night, Nabi and Jesstina fall asleep early. The performance went spectacularly well after my hiccup, but the scene is circulating the online space. I saw some comments saying that my reaction was all an act, just to "show off" how close I can get to Jungkook. Others are analyzing how I apparently have a severe health condition.

I breathe in deep, trying not to glance at the clock. I already know it's well past one am.

Jungkook hums, rummaging through the cabinets. "Hungry?" he says.

"Always," I say. I sidle up to him, glancing over his shoulder to our ramyeon stash. "I can make it for us."

"No way," he says, taking two packages of my favorite—spicy chicken flavored with sesame. "I'm making up for the last time."

Jungkook grabs two copper pots, setting them on the stove side by side. The telltale click of the switch soon follows. Then he pours water into the two pots, the trickling reminding me of the soaking performance we just got through. Even after a warm shower, my bones remember the storm.

He rips the packages of the soup base and dried vegetables, adding them methodically to each pot. The water turns the most mouthwatering shade of reddish orange. As he waits for the water to boil, he turns around.

His long hair is tied into a little ponytail, and his pajamas are from Seokjin's latest collection—a bright blue with tiny angels on clouds dotting the fabric. Without makeup, his skin shows the tiniest bit of texture attributed to his more acne-prone days. I subdue the urge to draw closer.

"Did you really see him?" Jungkook says, softly. "One of the... guys, I mean."

He practically spits out the word guys, as if he's disgusted—just from that one short conversation I had with him.

And because he already knows this much, I decide to bare my soul a bit more. "There were five of them," I say. "Five main ones, at least. The head guy, if you could call him that, was named Sam. I thought I saw him in the crowd. At least... it looked exactly like him."

I rest my eyes on the familiarity of the dorm room. The couch is beaten down, more gray than white. The carpet needs to be vacuumed. The tiny window overlooks an alleyway that probably no one in Yongsan knows about, with a gray alley cat that Nabi likes to stare at. Jesstina's athletic wear stretches over every chair, joined by more than one of my pairs of sweatpants. We like to keep the lights low, so only an orangish lamp in the living room and the kitchen lights illuminate the space. The scent of Nabi's favorite tropical Febreze, pineapple and Fuji apple, floats between everything, making the sights more homely.

Jungkook catches me admiring our space—which is much more appealing than facing him head-on and admitting that sometimes, I imagine what it'll be like to go back to Chicago.

Screw it, I already said so much.

"All the time, I feared what it would be like to disband, with the Fates not being able to debut." I slowly turn back toward him, noticing that he was following my line of sight to the nearest chair. "I thought that if I failed here, I would go back to Chicago and be caught in the same pattern. The group of boys would find me, even though I could finish my schooling online or transfer. And even though I've graduated here through a program, I still think that if I went back... I don't know."

"I get it," Jungkook says, sparing me from going further. "Your past haunts you there, and you feel safer where you are now. I understand."

I nod. I point to the boiling water. "I think we should start cooking."

Jungkook and I unceremoniously dump the ramyeon noodles into the boiling broth. I expertly press a few buttons on the microwave to set a timer for four minutes.