Anger never builds; it only tears down. In the heat of a single moment, it can feel like strength, an armor to hide behind. But when the fire fades, all that's left are the ashes of what once mattered. Anger doesn't solve anything-it devours patienc...
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You were the chapter I read over and over, even knowing the ending wouldn’t change.
Chapter 26: Realization
Taehyung’s thin jacket did little to protect him. His steps were aimless. He hadn’t eaten, hadn’t slept properly, and his body screamed for rest—but there was no bed waiting for him, no roof to collapse under. He had no place to go. No money. No plan. All he could do was keep walking until exhaustion forced him to sleep somewhere, anywhere.
His gaze drifted over the neon lights and muffled bass thumping from a nearby club. The laughter of strangers spilled out every time the door swung open. Taehyung kept walking, intending to ignore it, but a loud commotion made him turn his head.
That was when he saw him.
Jungkook.
The man was stumbling out of the club, flanked by two women clinging to him as if he were a prize they’d won. His shirt was slightly untucked, his steps uneven, his expression dazed with drink. The sight made Taehyung freeze, his stomach twisting—not with jealousy, but with something colder, sharper.
“Come on, tell us where your car keys are so we can head to a hotel,” one of the women teased, her voice dripping with flirtation as she tugged on Jungkook’s sleeve.
“Let me go,” Jungkook muttered, his voice slurred, heavy with alcohol. His steps faltered, and he swayed, as though the ground itself were unsteady beneath him.
The second woman chuckled, curling her fingers under his chin to force him to meet her eyes. “Don’t be so stubborn. We’ll help you forget, just for tonight.” Her lips curved into a practiced, sultry smile. “We’re very good at making men forget.”
“I said I don’t want to.” Jungkook swatted her hand away, his face twisting in irritation as he pressed the bridge of his nose. His headache was pounding, the women’s voices digging into his skull like needles.
But they persisted. One slid her hand across his chest, whispering promises against his ear. “If you won’t tell us, we’ll just take you to our place instead.”
That was the breaking point.
“Fuck it, I said don’t touch me!” Jungkook snapped, his voice sharp enough to cut through the noise of the street. He shoved her hand away with enough force to make her stumble back. His patience was gone, his anger burning hotter than the alcohol in his veins.
And then—his eyes shifted.
Across the street, through the haze of neon, his gaze locked onto a figure.
Taehyung.
For a moment, Jungkook’s breath caught in his throat. The fog of alcohol evaporated like smoke, replaced with a raw, jarring clarity. It was as though the world had sobered him in an instant, cruelly and mercilessly. His heart lurched, beating so hard it hurt. Without thinking, he shoved the women away and staggered forward, his entire focus narrowing onto that single familiar face.
