Whiplash | jjk.

[05]: Not An Option

3 MONTHS LATER

You were in the dojo setting up before any of the other boxers arrived.

But that was all a part of what you were doing. Because it was just a simple fact that, if you wanted to be on par with the males, you had to train a lot harder than them. Your anatomy had not been on your side, but with countless late nights and early mornings, you had been making it work for you.

You sat on the floor, gently massaging your strained arm muscles and covering up your knuckles with your wraps.

Your hair was tickling your shoulders and you were already sweating, since you'd been warming up for half an hour.

The dojo smelled of a combination of sweat, hatred and burnt rubber.

Like normal.

You heard two of the other boxers walk in finally, but kept your head down to not spark conversation with them. The talking between them was very loud and boisterous, as they passed you.

"Hey little man!" one of them says, reaching down to ruffle your hair. "Some of those muscles are finally startin' to show!"

They both laugh and walk off to go begin their own warmups.

Although they were joking around and having digs at your smaller form, as did every other person in the dojo, you could hear a certain level of realness in his voice. He really did notice some of your muscles growing.

And so did you.

You'd been working very hard.

One by one, the rest of the boxers enter the room and start warming up. You put extra effort into ignoring when you heard Jungkook and Taehyung walk inside - you'd been doing so well at avoiding them.

The hatred between you and Jungkook had only grown in the last three months.

His overbearing distaste for you slowly turned into vile, child-like teasing. Constant taunting, and tickling, bothering you and humiliating you in front of everyone no matter what you were doing.

Your cowardness towards him that you felt a few months ago had completely changed into frustration, as he never gave you a break. It was like it was his sole life purpose to make your day a living hell every time he saw you. You would snap back at him whenever you got the chance, but never un-provoked.

You kept your thick skin.

Leaving was not an option.

You had built yourself a place in the dojo now, even making nice with some of the other fighters. Your relationship with Jungkook became a studio-wide joke, as no one else could understand where the hatred came from.

But you knew.

He was far from innocent in the war. 

You had no other options. You couldn't change studios; you'd surely meet the same fate. You couldn't challenge him, because you'd definitely end up eating your own words. All there was to do was to be another swinging punching bag for Jungkook to abuse.

No where to go, nothing to do. This was the situation and you had to make do.

You were in check.

Not having your best friend by your side every day was a difficulty you didn't really see affecting you so much. You had gotten so used to telling her all of your problems, and letting your worries fall on her, and she did the same with you.

She was a source of life that filled the dark hole your father's absence had left in your quiet apartment.

She helped you fill it with warmth, and good smells, and sounds. When she visited, you'd cook together. You would laugh and cry and everything in between. There was barely ever a dull moment when she was there, creating a bizarre contrast for when she wasn't.