Golden Kiss | Jinkook ✔️

One

Jungkook had always believed that love would be impossible to find. Too hard to deal with. Too many emotions and feelings for someone else who might or might not care in return. And maybe he wasn't the best fit for a relationship—all considering the fact that Jungkook cannot control any of these heavy, irrational feelings of his.

And now, as he's standing on the concrete filled pavement, staring into his boyfriend's house as Kunwoo's got his lips on Jungkook's best friend's neck, Jungkook definitely thinks that love isn't for him.

He should be livid. Should scream at the top of his lungs, get their attention. Make them panic and fear for their lives, and then march into that house and slap Kunwoo for cheating on him and slap Miyoung—his best friend, mind you—for going behind his back.

Instead, his feet are grounded, glued to the cement. The world turns into a haze, his brain scattering into bits and pieces of memories over the years; Meeting Miyoung at the office, when he'd gotten a job working as one of the editors for the entertainment company, and he'd been given a cubicle exactly three seats down from hers; Meeting Kunwoo exactly one week after that, when he'd been promoted to their floor and introduced himself in the break room; All the laughs and inside jokes he'd created with Miyoung, and the same with Kunwoo; The kisses he'd shared with his boyfriend; The times he'd gone shopping with Miyoung and they'd buy ice cream together while gossiping about their co-workers.

All of those memories hit Jungkook like a truck coming at full speed. It all meant nothing to them, but everything to him. They're making out behind his back, without any remorse or regret. They think he doesn't know—God, how long have they been doing this behind his back? Seriously?

Jungkook's stomach twists. His insides fill with pressure, a disgusting feeling settling within him. He feels like puking. He's going to puke. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He runs back to his car and flies down the highway until he reaches his local bar. It isn't even late in the afternoon yet, but he enters the building that smells of alcohol. Just the scent makes him relax, knowing he'll be drunk off his ass soon enough to say Fuck you to his boyfriend—ex-boyfriend, now.

There's a small sofa that Jungkook usually sits at, so he orders their strongest liquor before hurrying to the familiar yellow cushion. He drinks up and relaxes back into the sofa, and then orders another drink right after, and then another one after that.

Eventually, evening time settles in. Jungkook is the only drunk person there, but now that people are getting off work and are joining him, he won't be the only one for much longer. He waits, mildly aware of a few familiar faces as they come in and orders drinks or start dancing together. For a second, he thinks about the times he'd danced with Kunwoo or Miyoung in the exact same way. He finishes the last quarter of his current drink to push away the memory.

The bar is getting full, but everything is fuzzy to Jungkook. All he can really do is sit back and look at the ceiling—dark, yet bright with flashing colors and lights—while the next karaoke singer is called to the front. She sounds mediocre at best, but the lyrics hit Jungkook in every inch of his drunken brain and broken heart.

You must think that I'm stupid

You must think that I'm a fool

You must think that I'm new to this

But I have seen this all before

Tears well up in Jungkook's eyes because no matter how off-key the girl is, the lyrics make him feel like he's suffocating. Like a bag of rice is being poured on him inside of a bathtub, and he's drowning in it. Drowning in little white specs of rice. The tears start streaming down his face before he knows it, and he wants another drink so badly. He's too wasted to get up and order one, so he hopes a server walks by sometime sooner than later.