Just One More Tear to Cry

Part 6

Jimin's POV

It's been two grueling weeks since Papa's discharge from the hospital. Despite his outward appearance of health, my skepticism remains ever-present. Every smile he offers seems like a fragile facade, masking the deeper uncertainties that linger beneath the surface.

In just two days, it will be my turn to visit the doctor. The prospect fills me with a mix of trepidation and resignation. How many more rounds of medical examinations will I have to endure? The headaches that once tormented me have abated somewhat, but the fear of their return looms like a shadow over my every waking moment. Yet, I hesitate to burden Papa any further. He's already sacrificed so much for me, and the weight of my gratitude feels almost suffocating. How does one adequately express such profound indebtedness? Papa, the unwavering beacon of light in the darkness of my existence, has bestowed upon me a gift of immeasurable value: a sense of belonging, of familial love, in a world where I once felt utterly adrift.

And then there's Jungkook hyung—Papa's son—a complex enigma whose presence in our lives both perplexes and unsettles me. His aloof demeanor and thinly veiled hostility towards me serve as constant reminders of my outsider status within this familial dynamic. The epithets he hurls my way—adopted son, beggar, murderer, thief—cut deep, but I endure them in silence, for Papa's sake, if not my own.

Lost in these ruminations, I'm startled by a sharp rap at the door. Opening it, I'm met with the imposing figure of Jungkook hyung, his brooding countenance casting a pall over the room.

"Could you ever have imagined sleeping in such a cozy bedroom?" he sneers, his tone dripping with disdain. I avert my gaze, unable to meet his accusatory stare.

"People like you have no shame, do they?" he continues, each word a stinging indictment of my perceived inadequacies. "Who else would freeload in someone else's house without contributing anything?"

His words land like blows, leaving me reeling with a mixture of shame and resentment. Oh, how I long to defend myself, to articulate the depths of my gratitude for Papa's unwavering kindness. But the words elude me, trapped within the confines of my own self-doubt.

As he prepares to depart, I summon the last vestiges of courage within me, forcing the words past the lump in my throat.

"Hyung..."

He pauses, casting a disdainful glance in my direction.

"I'm sorry. I never meant to cause trouble. Thank you for everything."

Tears threaten to spill from my eyes as he regards me with a mixture of pity and contempt, his unspoken judgment weighing heavily upon me. Alone once more, I sink to the floor, consumed by a sense of profound despair. Why must the world be so cruel, subjecting me to an endless cycle of suffering and rejection? It's a question to which I may never find an answer—a solitary echo in the vast expanse of my solitude.

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3rd Person POV

"Jimin, are you feeling alright?" Mr. Jeon's brow furrowed with concern as he regarded Jimin, his eyes searching for any sign of distress.

"I'm fine, Papa. Why do you ask?" Jimin replied, mustering a reassuring smile even as unease gnawed at him from within.

"I just have a feeling that something's not quite right," Mr. Jeon persisted, his tone gentle yet insistent.

"Don't worry yourself over nothing, Papa. Look at me, I'm perfectly fine," Jimin reassured him, though inwardly, doubts lingered like shadows.

"Jimin..." Mr. Jeon's voice held a weight of concern that Jimin couldn't ignore, signaling that this conversation was more than just idle chatter.