The night was heavy, the weight of unspoken truths hanging in the air like an invisible fog. We had all gone back to our homes after a long, confusing evening. But for me, the most startling part of the night wasn't the past resurfacing—it was hearing his voice again after all these years.
When I called him, I hadn't expected much. I didn't know what I was looking for, or if I even wanted answers. But the moment the line connected, and I heard that familiar voice, my heart shattered into pieces all over again.
_"Hello?"_
"Tae?" I whispered, my throat tightening, the tears already pooling in my eyes. It didn't matter that years had passed—I would know that voice anywhere. Even in my grave, I could never forget it.
There was a pause, and then, a breathless response: "Jimin? Jimin, is that you??"
I choked on a sob, unable to hold back the flood of emotions. "Yes, it's me!!" I said, tears streaming down my face. The hurt, the confusion, the years of silence between us—it all came crashing down in that moment. "You motherf*cker!! How could you not try to contact me all these years?? I thought I was your best friend!"
On the other end of the line, I could hear Tae's breath catch, the sound of his own tears falling in silent agony. "I'm sorry, Jimin!! I'm so sorry." His voice cracked, the sorrow pouring out like it had been bottled up for years, just waiting to be released.
We talked for hours that night, just like old times. It felt both strange and comforting, as though no time had passed at all. We talked about everything and nothing at the same time—our lives now, random things that held no real importance, but the subtext was always there, lingering between us like a ghost. I told him I got his number from Niki, and we laughed about how small the world had become.
Then, out of nowhere, he asked the question I had dreaded.
"So... are you still single?"
I couldn't help but laugh through the tears. "Bitch! You wish!! I've got the cutest husband!" I tried to make it sound light, but there was a heaviness in my chest. It felt strange to talk about my life now, knowing that Tae wasn't really a part of it anymore.
"Lucky you..." he whispered, and I could feel the longing in his voice, the sadness that was laced underneath his words.
Tae hesitated, and then he finally asked the question I knew was coming.
"And you're still in contact with him?"
I knew who he was talking about. Jungkook. Of course. The one person who still haunted Tae's heart, even after all this time. I took a deep breath. "Nope," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "But he's here for vacation with his family."
There was a pause on the other end of the line, and I knew Tae was processing that. The idea of Jungkook—*his* Jungkook—having a family.
"He has a family?" Tae's voice was barely a whisper. "Of course..."
"Tae, I think you need to move on," I said, the words feeling heavy in my mouth. "Or at least come here and meet him for good."
"I don't want to..." His voice was shaky, filled with fear and uncertainty. "It's good like this."
"It's not!!" I insisted, but I knew I couldn't force him to do anything. Tae had always been stubborn, especially when it came to matters of the heart.
The conversation drifted after that, back to safer, lighter topics. But the unspoken truth remained between us—neither of us had really moved on from those days.
Later that night, as I lay in bed, I couldn't stop thinking about Tae's life now. He was successful, filthy rich, living in Paris. He was the CEO of a luxury brand, "Jazz," that sold high-end suits and old-money fashion. He had everything, or at least it looked that way on the surface. But I knew better. Tae was still incomplete, still searching for something—or someone—he had lost long ago.
