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"Every childs deserves a dad, but not all dad deserves children."
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December 12 2014
Jungkook's father, Mr. Jeon issued stern commands to his son.
"Sit straight," he commanded, his voice laced with authority, as he compelled Jungkook to adopt an upright posture.
Locking eyes with his son, Mr. Jeon continued his verbal assault, urging, "Act smart and think before acting." His words hung in the air, heavy with expectation.
As Mr. Jeon paced the room, his arms firmly clasped behind his back.
He delivered a crushing ultimatum, the weight of which bore down on Jungkook's shoulders.
"If you don't become someone greater than me," he declared, his voice unwavering, "then you're a complete failure."
The room seemed to echo with the harshness of those words, leaving Jungkook with a heavy burden to carry.
……
Amidst the jubilant chorus of 'Happy birthday to you,' their voices brimming with laughter, the room echoed with applause at the cutting of cake.
However, there were no childhood friends, no playful companions, and only wealthy business associates whose interests lay far from genuine ones.
The maid, her attire, a sombre black vest, entered silently, casting a shadow over the festivities.
Nine-year-old Jungkook's voice, tinged with sadness, broke the celebratory atmosphere as he quietly mused, 'He's not coming, is he?'
A heavy sigh escaped his lips as she nodded silently, aching to release the tears that welled within, yet the echoes of his father's stern decree played like a relentless melody in his mind: 'Men don't cry.'
Throughout the lavish celebration, Jungkook's lips refused to curl into a smile despite the wealth that surrounded him.
Amidst towering cakes and insincere well-wishers, he felt utterly isolated.
The abundance of gifts, while extravagant, did little to fill the profound void left by his absent father.
In a room filled with fake smiles and maids, he longed for the one thing that avoided him—a father's genuine attention and love.
……
Amidst the cruel chorus of 14-year-old teenagers chanting 'Beat him up,' a feeble figure lay sprawled on the ground, barely clinging to consciousness.
His hair was a dishevelled mess, his clothing caked in mud and discarded on the floor, leaving him clad only in tattered boxers, his body a canvas of painful marks.
As Jungkook approached, a surge of compassion washed over him, his heart heavy with sympathy.
'I can't do this,' he confessed, his voice trembling as he turned and fled, leaving the tormenting echoes of voices in his wake.
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Fuckable Friend || Jikook & Vmin
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