First Kiss

The Past Revisited

He feels a hand on his shoulder, and in a startled cry, he says, "Hyung, I'm sorry!" He suddenly snaps awake. He looks around and rubs his eyes.

His bodyguard pats him on the shoulder, "Hey, wake up, we're here." They both get out of the car and head to the studio makeup room, where the others are arriving.

The first to see him is Jimin, who asks, "Hey, are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Jungkook puts his hand on Jimin's shoulder as he walks past him, "I have Jimin-ah, I have."

"What?" Jimin asks, but he has yet to get an answer as they are seated away from each other. Their stylists are working on their hair and make-up. 

Jimin leans over to look down the row of chairs at him but sits back up when he notices Jungkook has his eyes closed. So he continues flirting with his hair stylist, who rolls her eyes at him, causing him to giggle. 

As his hair stylist works, Jungkook drifts off. 'I never got to talk to Mia, but she moved away. There is a wrong I need to make right. I tried to talk to her at school but felt so awful I chickened out.' Jungkook, eyes still closed, sighs. 'And then she was gone.'

"Earth to Maknae." J- Hope pokes Jungkook's cheeks and says, "Hey, time to go. Stop your woolgathering."

"Sorry, Hyung." He followed the others out for the interview and then the singing of their newest release.

Afterward, they went out to eat with the show's host and then headed back home. Jungkook's mind was full of you and the past. He just wanted to go to sleep.

"Good night, hyungs. I'm so tired I'm turning in early tonight." He tells them, ready to head toward his room.

Jimin jumps up and goes to him, placing his hand on his shoulder and teasing him, "What, no workout?"

Jungkook tiredly shakes his head, mumbling, "No, not tonight."

"You doing ok maknae?" asks Namjoon, "You've seemed distracted all day."

"You're not feeling ill, are you?" questions Jin as he places his palm on Jungkook's forehead. "Hmm, no fever that I can tell."

Jungkook pushes his hand away, "I'm just tired." He weakly laughs at their attention, hoping they will leave him alone.

"That's okay, but if you feel ill, let me know." Jin lightly scolds him, wagging his finger at him.

"Yes, of course, hyung. I will. Goodnight." He goes to his room and quietly closes the door, staring at his bed. 'Will the thoughts of Mia even let me fall to sleep?'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had reached home exhausted. You ate a light snack, then showered and got ready for bed. You snuggle under the covers, but sleep eludes you. Instead, your mind is full of Jungkook, whose memories keep you up most of the night.

You can never forget the innocent kisses that you and Jungkook shared, but those memories have stopped keeping you awake since you turned 16. You punched your pillow, "Ugh! Stop thinking about him!" You shouted at your pillow as you punched it again. You flipped on your side and tried to sleep, but it was useless.

Jungkook was having the same problem with memories invading his mind, keeping him awake, tossing and turning. He finally jumped out of bed, frustrated, and poured a glass of wine. He sat there in the semi-dark thinking, remembering. He poured himself a second glass, trying to figure out how to make things right.

He is on his third glass of wine and climbs back in bed after sitting the almost empty glass on the nightstand. Before he lays down, he reaches for it and finishes it off. 

'I have a chance to make things right.'  He regretted not talking to you that day to ask for your forgiveness. He was so ashamed he couldn't face you. He was relieved that you didn't share any classes. He was hoping to build up his courage to speak to you, but when he didn't see you the following week, he found out you had moved away. His heart broke that day out of guilt and losing you.

'I have to make it right. I have to!' He thinks of ideas on how to apologize and explain what happened. 'And to tell you how I feel about you.' 

His mind is now so drowsy from the wine he finally falls asleep with his last thought, 'Someday *finna find my time.' 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, you're at your computer when your assistant approaches you, "Here's your coffee. Do you need me to take this to the publisher?" she points at the stack of papers on the corner of your desk.

"No, it's ok. I will send it electronically."

She gasps in mock surprise, "You're not carrying your manuscript this time? Is the world ending?" She runs to look out the window to make sure the world is still there. You join her at the window, laughing, watching the people walking below, avoiding traffic as they cross streets to get to work.

"I know you have been harping on me to get with the times." 

She interrupts you, "I don't harp."

 You hug her, your best friend. "Oh yes, you do, and I love you for it." And you both start laughing. "It keeps me on schedule. Besides, you know that is how my father and my grandfather did it. It's like a family tradition carrying our manuscripts in."

You hear your phone buzzing on your desk and go to pick it up. You look at the number calling, don't recognize it, and put the phone back down. A few seconds later, your phone lets you know you received a text. You don't bother to read it, you have to get your manuscript out now and didn't have time to read a text from an unknown person. 'Probably spam anyway.'

*(Oxford Dictionary, fin-na: contraction, Dialect- US. "going to; intending to.")