Speeding Into Trouble || Taekook

26

It was 2 a.m.

The world was silent, but inside Taehyung's chest, there was a war raging.

He stumbled down the deserted street, every step feeling like he was dragging his heart behind him in pieces. His arms hung limply at his sides, his eyes glazed over, unblinking.

The air was cold, but he couldn't feel it. The streetlights flickered like they were mocking him, blinking in and out as if the universe itself couldn't even bear to look at him right now.

"Jeongguk has a girlfriend."

Those words echoed in his skull like a sledgehammer, cruel and unforgiving. Over and over and over.

What the fuck just happened?

Why did Jeongguk kiss him? Why did he hold him like that? Touch him like that? Look at him like he meant something? Why the hell did he let Taehyung fall for him, just to shatter it all like it was some kind of twisted game?

Was I just something to do while you were bored, Jeongguk?

Was I just a fucking pastime?

The anger surged inside him, so sharp it made his fingers twitch. And beneath that fury was heartbreak so profound it felt like it was splitting him open.

This wasn't just about the kiss. This wasn't just about Minji.

This was the first time in his life someone made him feel seen. Really seen. Like he mattered. Like he wasn't just some pawn in his father's legacy. Like he wasn't a prisoner in a golden cage, being groomed for a future he never wanted.

This was the first time someone reached into the cold, cracked mess that was his life and lit a fire.

And now Jeongguk had stamped it out with a single kiss. To someone else.

By the time he reached home, Taehyung was hollow.

He crept inside quietly, like a ghost slipping between the cracks of the world, climbed the stairs like a man dragging chains, and shut his door with trembling hands. He locked it.

He always locked it.

He collapsed onto the bed like he couldn't hold himself up anymore, staring at the ceiling with glassy eyes, breath uneven.

And then the thoughts came — ugly, sharp, relentless.

"Did he cheat on her... or did he just play me?"

Was I the other man and didn't even know it?

And then — the worst thought yet.

"Wait... is he even gay?"

His heart stopped.

No. No, no, no.

He sat up, like that thought physically knocked the wind out of him. He can't be gay. He has a girlfriend. He kissed a girl in front of everyone.

Then what the fuck were all those kisses, all those looks, the picnic, the ramen, the late night drives, the forehead kisses, the almost-touching fingers... what the hell was all of that?

Was it all just... fake?

"Fuck," he whispered, gripping his hair, his voice cracking. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

And the tears finally came.

Hot, fast, angry tears.

He buried his face in his hands, the sobs escaping before he could stop them. They weren't just soft whimpers — no. These were the kind of cries that clawed their way out of your throat and ripped you apart.