[ complete ] 𝐌𝐀𝐅𝐈𝐀'𝐒 𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐅𝐄 || 𝐉.𝐉𝐊 𝐅𝐅

53. Tapes.

Y/N’s Perspective —

The house was too quiet again.

Jungkook had left earlier that morning with one of his usual cold, brief instructions: “Don’t step out of the house until I’m back. And don’t answer any unknown numbers.”

No kisses. No warmth. Just that look in his eyes that told me the world outside these walls was far more dangerous than I knew.

I didn’t argue. I never did when he used that voice.

Now, i busied myself rearranging things. The room smelled faintly of leather and lavender. I smiled slightly as I pulled out the boxes Jungkook had ordered for me—pregnancy pillows, some maternity dresses, supplements, and even books on parenting. That side of him was quietly thoughtful. Hidden under layers of rage and silence.

I moved toward the nightstand on his side of the bed. Normally I avoided touching his private drawers, but today, something nudged I fingers toward the lower one.

Click.

I opened it.

Inside, among neatly stacked files and his gun, was a small bundle of cassette tapes. No label. Just cold plastic staring back at her.

I bit my lip, hesitated… then took one out.

There was a small TV with a built-in tape player in Jungkook’s private study. I moved quietly toward it, heart thudding harder than it should.

The screen flickered.

I pressed play.

A grainy frame appeared.

A hand holding the camera, shaking slightly, and the unmistakable voice of a young girl whispering nervously behind it.

SUYEON's POV (on the tape)

Click.

The red light on the camera blinks. It’s recording.

My hands tremble slightly as I adjust the focus, trying to zoom in—not too obviously—on the boy standing near the edge of the courtyard.

Jeon Jungkook.

Even his name feels like a secret when I whisper it inside my head.

It’s my first day at this new school, and I don’t know anyone. Not really. But from the moment I walked through those massive gates this morning, I saw him—and something inside me… clicked.

He stands with his friends, casually tossing his head back as he laughs at something one of them says. His uniform is a little messy. His tie loose. His confidence—untouched.

He doesn’t look like he belongs in a high school courtyard.

He looks like the main character of a movie I was never cast in.

I pull the camera closer to my face and whisper softly, almost shyly, into the mic. “Okay… um… this is weird, I know. But I think I like him. Already.”

I giggle under my breath, heart pounding.

“I mean… who does that? Falls for a guy on the first day? But—ugh—look at him. His voice is deep, and he smiled once at a teacher like he didn’t care if he got detention for talking back. And I know I’m being stupid. But…”

I bite my lip, the camera shaking just a little as I shift positions.

“…I want to remember this. In case I never get to talk to him. In case he never knows my name. I want to have this—him, here, like this. Before everything changes.”

My feet take a step forward as I try to get a better angle. The sunlight hits his hair just right, and my fingers clench the camera a little tighter.

And then—

CRASH.

My foot catches on the edge of a bench I didn’t see. The world flips. My arms flail.

The camera tumbles with me.

I hit the ground with a painful thud, and the camera skids a few inches away.

“Ow!” I gasp, trying to sit up, mortified. My knee stings. My elbow too. Great. What a perfect first day.

A shadow falls over me.

“Whoa there,” a voice says, smooth and amused.

I look up—face burning—and blink hard.

It’s him. Jungkook.

He crouches down, his brows drawn in mild concern but his lips slightly curved.

“You planning to record every bench on campus, or was this one just special?”

I choke on a laugh. “I—I wasn’t recording benches! I was just—ugh, I tripped.”

“Clearly.” He smirks, then reaches for my hand. “Come on. You’re bleeding a little.”

I let him pull me up. His grip is warm and steady. My heart isn’t.

He examines my scraped palm for a second, then sighs softly. “You should be careful. You’re cute and all, but if you keep falling like that, you’ll be covered in scars.”

My mouth parts slightly. Did he just call me cute?

I freeze.

Did I die when I hit the pavement and this is heaven?

He lets go of my hand and walks over to the camera, brushing off some dust. “You messed up the lens a little,” he says, then adjusts it like he’s done it a million times. “Here.”

He hands it back to me.

I stare at it. Then at him.

He’s still watching me.

Still… there.

“You… you looked back,” I murmur.

He blinks.

“Hm?”

“In the courtyard. You looked back at me earlier, didn’t you?”

He studies me for a second, eyes unreadable.

Then smiles.

Not the smirk. Not the cocky grin.

A real one.

“Maybe I did,” he says.

And then—

He turns and walks away.

Just like that.

Leaving me with a beating heart, a dusty camera…

…and a memory I know I’ll never, ever forget.

Back to Y/N’s POV

I sat frozen on the chair, the screen black now but still holding Suyeon’s last whispered laughter like a ghost.

My hand clutched my chest.

That was the real Suyeon.

That was the real Jungkook.

Not the monster. Not the mystery.

But a boy who once smiled at a girl who had loved him quietly.

Tears burned my eyes before i even realized they’d come. Not out of fear. Not out of jealousy.

But from something heavier—

Something called truth.

And now, i wasn’t sure what terrified me more:

The man Jungkook had become…

Or the pain he had buried so deep, that no one had ever looked hard enough to see it until now.

A/N's Perspective —

This chapter out, enjoy.

Well, guys you all can contact me through my insta id.

Love from kookie.

To be continued.