𝙱𝙻𝙸𝙽𝙳 𝙸𝙽 𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙴

𓆩♡𓆪; 16

Jungkook's POV

As I finished cleaning up the apartment, I received a call from my PA. My heart raced when he informed me that he had located Jimin at the "VIP Bar," a swanky spot 13 kilometers from the apartment. Despite my exhaustion, I felt a surge of energy. I instructed him to wait there; I would be right over. I grabbed my keys and slipped out of the apartment, careful not to disturb Airene. 

The streets were quiet as I sped toward the bar. When I arrived, my PA was already waiting at the entrance. Without a word, I tossed him the keys and rushed inside, scanning the room for Jimin. There he was, sprawled on a luxury couch, his clothes stained with his own vomit. His state was a stark contrast to the polished, opulent surroundings of the bar. A wave of anger washed over me—anger at the sight of my friend reduced to this, but also frustration at the situation. I moved quickly, lifting Jimin with a grunt and throwing his arm over my shoulder. I paid the tab at the bar, my movements sharp and impatient. I could hardly believe how far Jimin had fallen. 

The image of him, disheveled and defeated, made my heart ache. Once outside, I helped Jimin into the back of my car. The drive back to my apartment was tense and silent. I kept my eyes on the road, my thoughts a chaotic mix of concern and frustration. I didn't want Airene to see Jimin in this condition—she was already distressed enough. When we finally arrived at the apartment, I carefully helped Jimin inside and guided him to one of the guest rooms. I didn't want to risk Airene encountering him in this state. She was asleep in Jimin's room, looking peaceful despite everything. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing mind. 

After making sure Jimin was settled in the guest room, I decided to crash on the couch. It was surprisingly comfortable, but no matter how plush the cushions or how soft the blanket, my mind was far from at ease. The anticipation of what the morning might bring weighed heavily on me.

My thoughts were a tangled mess—concerns about Jimin's state, the impending conversation with Airene, and the overall stress of the situation kept me from fully relaxing. I couldn't shake the images of Jimin's condition and the turmoil Airene was facing. How would she react to seeing Jimin in this state? What would be the fallout of everything that had happened?

Despite the discomfort of my racing thoughts, exhaustion eventually took over. I managed to drift into sleep, though it was fitful and plagued with fragmented dreams about Jimin, Airene, and the endless complexities of their lives. 

The next morning, I was jolted awake by the unmistakable sound of retching. My eyes flew open, and I immediately recognized the sound—it was Jimin. I jumped up from the couch and hurried to the guest room, the weight of worry settling heavily on my shoulders. As I opened the door, the sight before me made my heart sink. Jimin was on the floor, his face pale and drenched in sweat, his clothes stained. He looked up at me with bleary eyes, barely able to focus. "Kook...?" His voice was barely a whisper, struggling to acknowledge my presence. I sighed deeply, feeling a mix of frustration and sympathy. "Hang in there, hyung," I said as I moved to help him. 

Carefully, I assisted him to his feet and guided him to the bathroom. The whole process was slow and delicate, ensuring he didn't hurt himself further. Once in the bathroom, I started the shower and helped him undress. We used to bathe together often when we were younger, so it wasn't a big deal in this state. His drunken stupor made him more passive, and he didn't resist as I helped him into the shower. The warm water seemed to revive him a bit, washing away the remnants of his distress. 

As Jimin stood under the stream of water, I grabbed some fresh clothes from his closet and laid them out for him. Once he was out of the shower and somewhat more coherent, I handed him the clothes and told him to get dressed. "I'm going to make you some hangover soup," I said, trying to sound reassuring. "It'll help you feel better." He nodded weakly, his eyes still glazed but showing a hint of gratitude. I left him to get dressed and headed to the kitchen, where I started preparing the soup. As I worked, I couldn't help but think about how the day was shaping up—Airene would be waking soon, and I had no idea how to navigate the next steps. For now, though, my focus was on getting Jimin back to a semblance of normalcy. He needed to be in better shape to face whatever was coming next.