A Kiss For A Kiss

20

I drift in and out of consciousness, barely tethered to the world. There's a burning ache in my chest, deep and unrelenting, like something is ripping me apart from the inside. I can feel myself sinking into the darkness, but every so often, I'm dragged back up—by pain, by a memory, by something I can't quite grasp.

The sterile smell of the hospital assaults my nose. I try to move, but my limbs are heavy, useless. My eyes flutter open for a second, catching glimpses of bright lights above, unfamiliar faces moving in and out of focus. I hear distant murmurs, words I can't piece together, and then... a hand. Someone's holding my hand.

It's warm, firm. Familiar.

Jungkook?

I can't tell. I want to see him, to know if it's really him, but I can't hold on. The darkness pulls me under again, and this time, I don't fight it.

Ugh, I'm in so, so much pain.

The next time I wake, everything is... softer. The sharp, biting pain has dulled to a persistent throb, still there but bearable. My eyelids feel like they weigh a thousand pounds, but I force them open. Blinding light stings my eyes at first, but eventually, the world comes into focus. The beeping of the heart monitor fills the room, steady, rhythmic, almost soothing.

I take in the sterile white walls, the smell of disinfectant clinging to the air. Slowly, I turn my head, wincing as pain shoots through my chest. I glance down—there's a thick bandage wrapped around me, right over my heart.

Then I see them.

Flowers, lots of them, scattered around the room. Bouquets in every color, balloons with little notes tied to them, and seated around my bed, my girls—Lisa, Jennie, Jisoo, and Alice. They're here.

Alice. my older sister, is the first to notice I'm awake. "Chaeyoung!" she gasps, standing up and rushing to my side. "You're awake, thank God." The others follow, crowding around me with relieved smiles, their worried expressions slowly easing.

"Hey..." I manage to croak, my voice barely above a whisper. My throat feels like sandpaper.

Jisoo reaches over, brushing a strand of hair from my face. She grins. "You scared the hell out of us. How many times does a person get shot in a lifetime, huh?"

"Yeah," Lisa adds, her usual bravado nowhere to be seen. "We thought we'd lost you."

"How long?" I ask, barely able to get the words out.

"Two weeks," Jennie replies, her voice soft but strong. "You've been in and out of it. They had to operate—twice."

I don't know how to process that. Two weeks? The last thing I remember is the bar, the gunshots, the searing pain. And... Jungkook. But now, here I am, stitched together with flowers surrounding me like a funeral.

Did he send them?

Two weeks later, I'm finally discharged from the hospital. The scar on my chest is brutal, thick and ugly, a reminder of how close I came to death. It stretches across my skin, raw and red, a mark I'll carry forever.

But I refuse to let it be a symbol of my weakness.

Which is why I find myself at a tattoo shop the day after being released, standing in front of a wall filled with designs. I run my fingers over the outline of a rose, imagining it inked over the scar. A reminder, but one I can turn into something beautiful. It's not that I want to hide my scar, it's the complete opposite, actually; I want to gloat around like a trophy. 

The bell above the shop's door chimes as someone walks in. I glance over and nearly do a double take. Taehyung. Of all people.

Jisoo's current heartbreak.