Rhymes || Taekook

Namjoon

"Jungkook-ah... tell me what you want for dinner tonight." I asked as I scrolled through different recipes on my phone. I might not know if we put oil first or water but I know how to follow a well written recipe with steps. 

Footsteps running down the hallway made it known the boy was late to somewhere. He was 30 and yet late for school. The only difference was now he was the teacher and not the student. 

"Morning, hyung!! Anything is fine, you know I eat everything!—but please do you know where my glasses are?? I can't even see my name on my register!" He flailed as he flipped the couch cushion as if his glasses were some cat to slip in those gaps. 

I sighed and stood up, not before putting on my playlist for the background music. "When was the last time you saw it?"

"Last night? I don't know!!" He yelled in panic as his phone's alarm overlapped with the opening chords of Lana Del Ray . It was 0950 and this man was not even out of the house yet. I don't even have to guess if he would get late marking today, he will.

I pulled open the drawers to search for it but the found all but sticky notes and gel glitter pens. It was also doused in shimmering gold sparkle enough to recreate Belle's gown which meant Jungkook had once again tossed it in without closing the lid of the bottle after his school craft. 

"Jungkook, I will ban glitter in the house if you won't--"

"My glasses hyung!! I can't put glitter in my eyes and hope to magically see the world in high resolution!!" I raised my hands up in mocking surrender as I resumed my search for his glasses. I didn't comment how not in high resolution but he might be seeing things golden though with his glitter. 

Finally, his glasses were found, in the flower vase near the door which made me question exactly how they got there. We don't have a cat to do such things. But before I could ask him, he was already sprinting through the door, hopping on one leg to wear his shoes then running down the stairs to the car parking.

I chuckled at my brother's actions, now standing in silence. He was entering his 30s now and yet he looked the same to me when he was seven and father brought him home. When I first saw him, I thought he looked like a small baby bunny, skitters, jumpy and always cautious of his surroundings. His large round eyes taking in everything around him.

He was scared of everyone except mother. A true mamma's boy. Always hiding in her skirts as if she would protect him from the world. 

It often needled me to see her smiling so sweetly at him when I was her son and he was the adopted one. That was the first time,  I felt the jealousy of older sibling, the second child, the ignored one. It was always Jungkookie this, Jungkookie that. Let Jungkookie play, let Jungkookie have the last piece of pie. 

It drove me mad.

 He was my mother's golden child, the favorite one, my father though, loved us both equally, but was often worried about Jungkook in a way different than mother.

Unlike mother, he was scared our youngest wouldn't fare well into the real world with how our mother was sheltering him. Away from any harm, strangers and the world, into her arms. 

And so, he made mother resume her job she had quit to take care of Jungkook and hired a nanny for us. No more our mornings were filled with mother singing my brother's favorite song, or preparing breakfast for us. She would leave in early morning with father and would come back late at night.

Something my little brother loathed. 

And suddenly we were back to square one. No. It was worse than before. He started flinching at everyone's touch, sometimes shouting for no reason, closing his ears off when a song played, even the song mother always used to sing to him became unbearable to him. It was as if he was fighting shadow enemies, his own demons that no one could see.

Our parents tried everything, talking to him, taking leaves for him, but nothing was working. He kept saying unbelievable things, weaving impossible tales, seeing unimaginable peoples. It was strange and scary. Mother was crushed with grief seeing her son in so much pain. Our father tried everything Jungkook said, listened to all his tales, tried to help him, believe him, yet nothing was fruitful. 

He was at dead-end.

So it was a shock to all of us when mother, who loved him the most decided to seek psychiatrist for him and in no time he was admitted to a mental hospital recommended by a friend of father. They had the best doctor treating him and to this day, my parents are thankful to him.

I shook my head, smiling to myself. It was all past, now my brother was with me, happy, healthy and normal. Instead of dwelling on past, I decided to clean off the drawer filled with glitters. 

"This boy... I wonder how his wife would manage him. She wouldn't need a child, this man is a grown up toddler." I picked off the small sticky notebooks, there was a bunch of them. It was one of Jungkook's sudden obsession, using sticky notes for everything and anything. Reminding me for groceries, making a note for himself, he would stick those little notes everywhere from fridge doors to washing machine.

"Ah! I need dusting pan and brush to clean this off..." I murmured to myself as I watched the disaster in front of me. It wasn't a small portion of glitter but a whole large packet. What a waste of material. 

But soon I realised, dusting the drawer was a bad idea. Now the glitter is everywhere. Even on my face. 

I guess it's good that Christmas is coming.