Crush Me /Jikook/

23

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"I don't want us to get married. Moreover, I don't want to marry you. Taehyung, you just don’t get it, do you? I’ve been using you since high school to secure my future, and now it’s gone too far. I don’t like you. My company is stable, it’s bigger than your father’s, and I don’t need you—or him. So whenever you’re done being delusional, please leave my house." Jungkook’s voice was cold, cutting through the tension in the room.

Taehyung’s expression shifted from smugness to disbelief. “Wait… so that’s it? You’re kicking me out? Just like that?” He leaned against the doorway, hands in his pockets, trying to mask the irritation with a teasing edge.

“I said it. Leave. Now,” Jungkook repeated, tone flat, emotionless.

Taehyung let out a low laugh, stepping closer, face inches from Jungkook’s. “Do you even realize how much of this—everything—you owe to me? I put you in front of people, helped you climb, got you connections, pushed your career when no one else would. Don’t act like you did it alone.”

“I said I don’t need you,” Jungkook snapped, his patience thinning. “My company is bigger than your father’s now. Everything you did? Irrelevant. I don’t care.”

Taehyung’s grin widened, but his eyes were sharp, calculating. “You sound proud… but arrogant too. You’re forgetting the truth. You’d be nowhere without my influence. You can try to deny it, but everyone knows you’ve been riding on my support since day one.”

“I don’t care what anyone knows,” Jungkook said, stepping forward. “I’m not that person anymore. I don’t need your money, your connections, or your approval. Get out. Now.”

Taehyung paused, tilting his head, studying him. “You really think you can just throw me out like some—” He cut himself off, his face flushing, frustration bubbling over. “Fine. If that’s how it’s going to be.”

He stormed past Jungkook, slamming the door behind him with a bang that rattled the walls. Jungkook didn’t flinch. He leaned back against the couch, eyes narrowing, heart still racing.

For a moment, the apartment was quiet. Only the faint hum of the city outside filtered in through the windows. Jungkook let out a long breath, trying to settle the tension still coiling in his chest.

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Meanwhile, somewhere else in Seoul, a new figure stepped off the plane. He carried nothing more than a small duffel bag and the weight of a plan that had taken years to set in motion. The city’s skyline stretched before him, filled with possibilities—and dangers. He didn’t linger on the sights, didn’t pause to marvel. Every step was purposeful. The apartment that had been arranged for him awaited, along with the quiet cover of a life that could finally allow him to move forward.

It was just after dusk when he arrived at the apartment building. The lobby smelled faintly of cleaning solution and old carpet. He didn’t bother to smile at the receptionist; he had no need for pleasantries. His focus was singular, and he climbed the stairs two at a time, eager to settle in before night fell completely.

Inside the apartment, he unpacked quickly, laying out his few belongings neatly. Clothes folded, essentials stored, and a plan already forming in his mind. Seoul was alive with people, noise, and movement, but he remained a shadow in the crowd—silent, calculated, and observant.

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Back at Jungkook’s house, the air was still thick from Taehyung’s departure. Jungkook paced the living room, phone in hand, eyes darting to the screens of stock prices and company updates. His focus was sharp, methodical, but there was a subtle unease beneath it, a tight knot that wouldn’t loosen.

He glanced out the window at the evening city lights, bright and taunting. Taehyung had always been a storm in his life—loud, demanding, impossible to ignore. But now, with the door shut and the apartment silent again, Jungkook realized just how free he felt from the constant pull of someone else’s influence.

And yet…

A small, stubborn thought lingered at the back of his mind, one he pushed away quickly. A memory of high school, of past mistakes and things better left buried. He didn’t dwell on it, couldn’t afford to. Not tonight. Not when he had work, deals, and a life that was finally his.

The apartment felt larger, emptier without Taehyung’s presence, but Jungkook didn’t mind. He moved to the kitchen, poured himself a glass of water, and leaned against the counter. He allowed himself a small moment of quiet.

Outside, the city carried on, oblivious to the tension that had just unfolded in a quiet apartment. Cars honked, neon lights flickered, and somewhere, unseen, a figure moved silently through the streets—new, unknown, but very much present.

Back inside, Jungkook checked his phone again, scrolling through emails and company updates. Every number, every statistic, reinforced the reality he had built on his own. He was in control. He was independent. And Taehyung’s storm, as chaotic as it had been, no longer mattered.

Hours passed. The apartment grew darker as the city lights outside shifted and dimmed. Jungkook finally set the phone down, crossed to the couch, and sank into it. He stared at the ceiling, thoughts moving faster than he could track.

He thought of high school. Of decisions made in anger, in ambition, in youthful cruelty. There was a flicker of guilt—small, almost imperceptible—but he pushed it down. He couldn’t dwell on the past, not now. Not when everything he had built demanded his attention.

Still, a shadow lingered in the corner of his mind. The memory of someone he had wronged. The memory of someone who had disappeared, who should have been gone. And somewhere, far away, that someone was not gone.

Jungkook’s fingers tightened around the couch arm, just slightly, a tiny, almost imperceptible reaction to the memory he refused to face. He shook his head and leaned back, letting the tension roll off his shoulders, forcing his mind back to numbers, charts, and strategies.

Seoul’s night grew deeper. Outside, cars sped past, and the city pulsed with life. Inside, Jungkook sat alone, surrounded by everything he had built. He was free, independent, untouchable—or so he told himself.

And somewhere in the city, someone else had just arrived, silent and watchful. Plans in place. Eyes forward. A presence unknown to Jungkook but destined, in ways yet unseen, to intersect with his life.

For now, the night was still, the apartment quiet, and Jungkook’s thoughts firmly fixed on the future he had fought so hard to create.

Yet, deep down, a single, uneasy thread remained—one memory that refused to be buried, one guilt that wouldn’t fully fade, one shadow in the corners of his mind that whispered of the past he had tried to erase.

~long time no see huh~