No Good

one

One year ago: February 2nd - 9:20 am

My suit was neatly pressed around six o'clock that same morning. I recall not wanting to get out of bed that day, and I also woke up with cold sweats. I pushed my bangs back for a moment to wipe my sweat with my blanket. A quick check at my clock and it was 9:20 in the morning.

A knock sounded on my door again and it was clear that the maids were waiting on me to make my presence known downstairs. I sighed and wondered what the rush was. There was never a rush and no one rushes Jeon Jungkook either way. So the hurry confused me; startled me even.

My chapped lips parted for a sigh as I rolled myself out of bed. My suit was hanging on my full body mirror, and I snatched it from it's hanger. I stripped myself from my gray sweatpants and soon realized that I forgot to shower. "Fuck..." I swore lazily to myself as I dragged my feet to my luxurious bathroom.

Being the prince and all does mean a lot of money and a gorgeous place to stay, but sometimes I did get tired of having everything thrown at me for free. I got what I wanted whenever I wanted it, and I still do. It's just this particular day was different. I didn't want to see my suit hanging conveniently for me on my mirror, I didn't want to go downstairs to my freshly made breakfast, or even step down that marbled stair case.

I got out of the shower and sprayed on some deodorant. My suit designed by Gucci exclusively for me, sat on the edge of my bed where I left it. "You ready?" Yes, I spoke to my outfit. I sighed and dried my hair off as quickly as I could before dressing myself.

As always, I open my bedroom door and two maids are waiting outside to fix and perfect my finely tailored Gucci. I stepped down the stairs, my shoes tapping against them. The maids fall back as I grin and greet my already seated mother at the table. "Hello, mother."

My grin probably wasn't sincere enough for her because she surely didn't smile. Her facial muscles didn't even flinch. That's when my stomach turned faster than it ever had. No matter what mood my mother was in, she would always greet me with a smile. I even had her waiting three whole hours after breakfast had begun and she still gave me a grin right before scolding me. What was different? I thought.

"Sit." She said. Her voice was low and obviously weak and it frightened me to death.

What had I done? Was it the fact that my hair wasn't completely put together? Given the fact that it is still dripping faucet water, I still think she'd smile. Exactly how late was I? I sat down anyways while all of these thoughts circled my inquisitive mind. "Y-Yes?" Shit. I stuttered. She can't know I'm nervous.

A sudden bell rung in my head as I examined the seating. My father's chair was vacant. But, why? "Where's father?" I asked, trying my best to keep my volume as calm and quiet as possible. The staff surrounding me came closer as if I would start a riot some time soon.

Staff knows how easily offended, hurt, or upset I get. Once I got so mad at my father because he told me I needed to be wed soon. I stood and hollered and even threw a fork his way. Staff had to end up holding me back multiple times and that incident was not the first one. If staff was already close to me, I knew whatever my mom was about to utter from her thin lips was going to burn me.

Her small eyes shut. I blinked at her, distraught. Having no clue what was going on was never my thing. I hate not knowing. I also hate waiting, so if this old lady didn't spit it out soon, I was going to explode. "Your father was assassinated last night." Tears welled in her eyes, but they didn't spill.

When I didn't move a hair for longer than ten seconds staff knew it was time to come in as close as they could. My veins felt like they were going to pop, I couldn't blink for the life of me, and my muscles flexed all at once. "What the fuck?!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. As soon as I did, staff trampled me, and my mother began to sob.

The strong men held my arms and dragged me from my seat toward the outdoors. They knew it was best for me to be completely gone from any memory regarding my father. I slept throughout the whole night my father had been dead? I felt evil. The devil cradled me in his arms that night.

I could hear my mother crying loudly and as ugly as ever. I've never heard her cry the way she did that day. Not once. My mind exploded with the thoughts that I could've saved him. He was the king of South Korea after all. I knew he was someone's target, but with what benefit? What could someone possibly earn by killing my dad? A prison sentence? Round of applause, whoever you are. Round of applause.

Staff hurried me to the limo and tossed me in the backseat with five more men waiting for me inside. They held me down just in case I would act out on how I was feeling at the moment. Most times I had swore to myself that I needed medical attention for my anger. Well, I do take medicine for it, but it doesn't seem to be enough.

The chauffeur drove off immediately. My hair still wasn't done, I probably looked like an awful mess, but to what did it matter. My father died. I didn't care what I looked like to anyone. I just wanted my dad back. He helped me through so much. Girls, how to be humble, and he even gave me my smile. My bunny like, hideous smile. But, dad always said I could swoon the ladies with it.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked through hiccups of tears.

One of the men who was holding my left arm down spoke, "We'll take you to watch your favorite sport to get your mind off of things." When all the men that were holding me down realized I was somewhat calm, they released me from their clutches. "Prince Jungkook deserves the best." He bowed to me and I grinned bitterly.

I remember perfectly. They had taken me to watch the cars. I was always fascinated by the sport and people always asked me why. It's just cars taking constant left turns to you, but it's the thrill of the speed and the likelihood of anyone winning that gets my adrenaline rushing. I watched my favorite racer take home the trophy that day. Kim Hyungsik, a forty-two year old bad ass who can leave any competition in the dust. He has one son who changes the wheels for him after he wears his old ones out. A fucking legend, Kim Hyungsik.

After watching the race, I did feel slightly better. My mind wasn't rushing to conclusions anymore and my eyes were no longer swollen. I was driven home, which for me at the moment was complete hell. My good mood was suddenly faded once I stepped through the gates to my mansion.

I walked in to my mother chatting on the phone with someone. I was curious as to who it was and leaned against the frame of the entrance to my kitchen. "I need to know who did it and who did it now! No apologizes!" My heart dropped as she continued, "Bullshit! My husband had no enemies in our family! It was some stranger I tell you!"

Her screams wouldn't be enough because the phone beeped in her ear and she dropped it on  the expensive counter. I came up to my mom and hugged her gently from behind. She shed her tears in my arms that were wrapped carefully around her neck. "Oh, Jungkook! He needs justice! Oh, baby!" She cried to me.

"It's okay, mama." I attempted holding back my own water works, but that didn't go has planned. Tears fell hopelessly from my eyes at the thought of my dad dying without any justice given to him. A huge funeral just would not be enough. Whoever killed him deserves to be locked up for life or to be killed with my bare hands. Either would have worked for me. I lost everything February 2nd. I never thought my heart would beat the same again.

That night, I dragged my feet back up to my room, stripping myself clean of my clothing and tossing them to the maid who stood patiently at the door as she wrapped an expensive towel around my naked waist. "Good evening, Prince Jungkook." She bowed ninety degrees and made her way out.

I went into my bathroom and switched my shower on, discarded the towel from my waist, and stepped into the shower. I let the water soak over my back as I shampooed my shaggy hair. I stared aimlessly at my bare, wet feet and the tile floor of the shower just thinking. Whoever assassinated my father was going to pay. Whoever was related to the killer and breathed by my father's killer was going to fucking die.

After a large gulp, I tilted my head back into the water to soak my hair off and wash my pale, but fairly lean body. The water began to freeze my skin so I hurried out and wrapped the same towel back around my waist before drying off completely. I changed into my night clothes which were baller shorts and, like, nothing else. I collapsed onto my  bed and admired the chandelier that hung beautifully in the middle of my room.

"I'm going to find justice for you, dad. I promise."