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Damn, why do I feel like I could cut someone's hands right now? That Jeon Jungkook.
I gripped the glass tightly as I watched them on the dance floor, dancing and talking. Why do I feel like this? This isn't right. I shouldn't be affected by this. I never was.
But Aelda, damn.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I groaned in frustration and downed the sour vodka.
"What happened, bro?" Jimin asked. I glared at him, his eyebrows scrunching in question.
"Nothing."
"One more glass," I said to the bartender.
As I downed another glass of vodka, the liquid burned on its way down, but it did little to soothe the turmoil within. The dance floor continued its chaotic rhythm, but my attention was solely fixed on Aelda and Jungkook.
Jimin leaned in, sensing something was amiss. "Taehyung, you're not usually like this. What's bothering you?"
I shot him a glare, frustration evident in my eyes. "It's nothing, Jimin. Just forget it."
But he wasn't one to easily let things go. "Is it about Aelda and Jungkook?"
I clenched my jaw, avoiding eye contact. "Why would it be? It's none of my business."
Jimin raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "Alright, Taehyung. If you say so."
But deep down, I knew I was lying to myself. Something about seeing Aelda with Jungkook was stirring emotions I hadn't allowed myself to feel before. I cursed under my breath, the bitterness of the vodka only amplifying my frustration.
The party ended, and the crowd began to disperse, but my eyes remained fixed on her. That Jeon fucking Jungkook got a call and left, but I couldn't find solace in that.
I scoffed to myself. Why did I care so much?
Aelda glanced at her phone, her expression shifting to shock. She quickly made her way towards the exit, and as the pathetic asshole I am, I followed her.
