Truth Or Love || Taekook

41

The arena was alive with the roar of the crowd as students gathered to cheer for their teams.

The energy was electric, but Jungkook's mind was elsewhere. As the captain, he had a duty to motivate his team. His words were strong, his voice loud and clear, but his heart was in turmoil.

As he glanced toward the crowd, his eyes desperately searched for him.

For Taehyung.

But instead, he spotted Yoongi waving at Jimin. There was no sign of Taehyung anywhere, and Jungkook's heart sank, a crushing wave of disappointment hitting him.

His chest tightened, the hurt gnawing at him, reminding him of just how much he missed him—how broken he felt without him.

For a brief moment, he stood frozen, the ache almost unbearable, as if everything had come crashing down at once. But he quickly masked the disappointment, shoving the hurt deep down, forcing himself to ignore the gaping void inside.

He had a game to play. He couldn’t fall apart now.

The referee's whistle blew, signaling the start of the match, and Jungkook took a deep breath, his hands still sore from the relentless hours of practice.

The game started with intensity, both teams fighting for every point. Jungkook, as always, led his team with precision and power, his spikes sharp, his defense unbreakable.

But beneath the surface, his exhaustion was catching up. The pain in his hands, though ignored, began to slow him down.

Every hit, every serve felt heavier than the last. Sweat dripped from his forehead as he continued to push himself harder and harder.

With each passing point, the crowd was on edge. Jungkook's team was leading, but barely. They just needed to hold on for a few more points to win.

But something wasn’t right. Jungkook's movements became sluggish, and his timing was off.

His team members and friends knew exactly what was going on. Jungkook had been over-practicing for days, torturing himself in the gym and on the court to avoid thinking about Taehyung.

They saw the toll it was taking on him—his hands were injured, raw and red, but the emotional pain he was burying hurt him more. He was using every ounce of energy just to numb himself from the heartache of missing Taehyung.

During a crucial rally, the ball came straight for him—an easy spike to end the match—but his hands, weakened from overexertion, gave out. The ball slipped through his fingers, landing with a thud on their side of the court.

A stunned silence filled the arena.

The other team celebrated their win while Jungkook’s teammates stood frozen, disbelief clear on their faces.

No one could understand how they lost, how their captain, their strongest player, had messed up.

Jungkook stood there, staring at the scoreboard, the numbers flashing in front of his eyes. They had lost.

And it was his fault.

He felt like dying from shame. His teammates were disappointed, but none of them said a word to him.

They knew what Jungkook was going through. The pain in his hands was nothing compared to the turmoil in his heart.

He had lost Taehyung, the one person who meant the most to him, and now he had lost the match too—a match he desperately needed to win, not just for the team, but for himself.

The weight of defeat pressed down on him, heavier than anything he had ever felt before. His chest felt tight, and for the first time in a long while, he wanted to cry.