Sitting in the middle of the stage in the auditorium, the room completely devoid of sound, an air of semblance fell around her. She took a deep breath, another one, and then let them both out.
The week before, she had auditioned for the solo part in front of their orchestra teacher, hands shaking before she could even grasp the bow. But she had somehow pulled herself together, managing to string out an (albeit shaky) rendition of the song lost stars.
Now, it was late- late enough that even the drama kids had left, and the teacher was going to post the results on the office window, which was right next to the auditorium.
She revelled in the quiet for a bit- fingers practically throbbing from practicing so much, violin case propped up against her thigh.
She was startled when she heard the door slam, and glanced up to meet eyes with Jungkook. The only difference now, was that she didn't shy away.
Over the past few weeks, she had learned that he was more of a myth than reality. Everything kids said about him was based off superstitions- ones he didn't deserve to carry.
Their relationship wasn't anything above friendly; they had small arguments over literature, different subjects, had deep life conversations that would usually only occur when a person wasn't sober.
He still smelled like smoke, still had scratches on his face or a swollen jaw almost daily, and still never missed English class.
In the mornings when she read, he would snatch the book out of her hands, glance at the cover, read the summary, sometimes even the first few pages. Always left a comment like 'I read that' or 'sounds good. How is it?'
Sometimes, when he came earlier than her, he would leave small notes on her desk- that were usually quotes from books.
Her favorite to date was the one from her favorite book; The Book Thief.
"Like most misery, it started with apparent happiness."
Something about that rung deep within her, and she found herself looking forward to those small notes- usually on scratch pieces of paper, with small, messy scrawl.
(She would be lying if she said she didnt keep them all)
Jungkook strolled to the stage, hoisting himself up and sitting next to her. His thigh rested against hers, and she found herself leaning into the contact.
"What are you doing here so late?" He asked, voice more strained than usual.
"The audition results are out today," she murmured, picking at her cuticle.
His eyes softened, and he smiled slightly.
"You're going to great- I know it. Your playing is amazing."
She blushed at the praise, finding the courage to smile at him shyly. She was about to ask him what he was doing there so late, when she saw his shirt- blood soaking through the abdominal area.
"Jungkook!" She gasped, hand flying up to her mouth. He winced, slumping a bit.
Without thinking, she grabbed his arm, dragging him to the backstage area, where she knew there was a first aid kit- (there were plenty of accidents in drama with all the props)
"Do you want to die?!" She seethed, slamming open the kit before shoving him to sit on the counter. His jaw was already swelling, and in the better lighting, she could see that his eye was blackening as well- scratches across his cheek.
He lifted up his shirt, and she saw a long scratch across his lower ribs. Luckily, it wasn't deep and didn't look like it needed stitches- but unfortunately it was ruining the extra shirt she had brought as she dabbed it against the cut.
