choose. + jimin & jungkook

8 ＊ dad

Bomi was now sitting in her room, alone. Taehyung had gone home. Jungkook walked Bomi home. And Jimin has texted her to see if she was okay.

It was 1:34pm on a Sunday. Soon to be a horrific Sunday.

"Bomi-ah," Mrs. Song lightly spoke as she gingerly knocked on the bedroom door. She entered the room. Bomi immediately got off her bed and went over to her mother worriedly.

"M-mom? Why are you crying?? Is everything okay?? What happened-"

"Inho is gone."

'Inho.....Dad.'

"What do you mean Dad is gone? He just went on a business trip! He should be back soon-"

"The plane crashed. He's g-" Bomi's mom broke into tears before she could finish. The teen was now in tears, herself. The two crashed into each other's arms whilst sobbing. The old man was.....dead.

-

"You have the masks??" Jungkook asked Jimin. He nodded. They boys were planning on pranking Bomi. They wanted to appear in her window with creepy masks. But of course, they didn't know of the events that had recently happened.

They made it to her window, and they were about to scare her. At least, that's until they saw her curled up in a corner, sobbing into her knees. Her arms were clutching her stomach, and she seemed to be in pain. Though, the boys figured it was only a physical pain.

You see, Bomi was in both, physical and emotional pain. Bomi has this thing where whenever she gets sad, she gets sick in one way or another. Currently, she was dealing with stomach pains and headaches. Fantastic.

-

"You've got the pads and chocolate?" Jungkook asked Jimin. He nodded. The two had come to the conclusion that Bomi was on her period. And them being the great friends they are, went out and bought pads and chocolate.

The two used the spare key hidden under a rock to get into the building. They made their way to Bomi's room and gave her a weak "Surprise!"

"W-why are you here?" Bomi choked out.

"Well, we figured you were dealing with— ya'know....that time of the month, so we brought you lady stuffs and chocolate," Jimin explained. Bomi weakly smiled at the two.

"I'll gladly accept the gifts, but I'm not on my period." Bomi softly chuckled.

"Then what's wrong?? We can't have Noona being sad," Jungkook plopped down beside Bomi, on the floor. Jimin did the same.

"My dad....he got into a plane crash on his way home.....and...ya'know...didn't make it," Bomi spoke barely above a whisper. Tears once again, endlessly streamed down her face.

Jimin and Jungkook looked at each other, eyes wide. They didn't know what to do.

"I-I'm sorry-"

"Don't be. It wasn't your fault. No need to apologize," Bomi assured.

"But-"

"I'll be fine. I just— I just need some time...yeah, just some time. That's all," Bomi interrupted. She gave the boys a re-assuring smile, though she was really trying to re-assure herself. Was she going to be okay? She wanted to be okay. She wanted to be happy for her mom. She could only imagine how much of a hell hole her mother was in at the moment. It worried Bomi.

"Let's go out and get stuff for my mom, yeah? I'm sure she has it worse than me," Bomi stood up, internally cringing at the intense pain in her stomach.

-

"Okay, we have Nutella, pretzels, and 7up. All of my mom's favorite mope time snacks...erm...I don't think it's enough...what's something we can do for her...that's like...free and genuine?" Bomi tapped her chin, deep in thought.

"Can either of you sing??" Bomi's eyes lit up. She had realized that their voices were music to her ears, even if they were just talking. She was positive at least one of them had some music in them.

"We both can, actually," Jimin proudly smiled. Bomi jumped in excitement.

"Lemme hear!" Bomi insisted. She was pushing the bad things into the back of her mind. That's good. She's doing doing good.

Both the boys sang short excerpts from random songs. Bomi was shooketh. I mean—daMN!

"Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!!" Bomi lightly clapped her hands together. She had a plan.

Here's what's happenin' in Bomi's mind:
Mrs. Song used to be a middle school music teacher. Band, chorus, orchestra...all of it! So, as you can probably assume, she loved music. And she had taught Bomi a lot. Bomi wasn't the best singer ever, but she excelled when it came to playing instruments. I mean, she knew how to play numerous! She also had a small closet that contained of many instruments of hers. You see where this is going?

Bomi wanted to preform for her mom. She knew her mom was cheesy like that, and that she would really appreciate it. It was a perfect plan. And Bomi knew exactly what song needed to be performed. It held a special place in her and her mother's heart, though, Bomi never explained to anyone why.

-

"Momma?" Bomi walked into her mother's bedroom. She was still sobbing. This made Bomi want to sob...

"Hey....." Bomi gingerly rubbed her mother's arm as she sat on the bed, "we have something for ya upstairs."

"What is it?" Mrs. Song sniffed. Bomi smiled and led her upstairs, sitting her down on a chair.

"Wait here for a sec." Bomi pecked her mother's forehead before zooming upstairs and getting her keyboard. She brought it back downstairs to her mother as Jimin and Jungkook followed behind her. They set up what they had planned. During this process, Mrs. Song had let out a few "huh?"'s and "what are you kids up to?"'s.

Then they began. Bomi let her fingers glide along the keyboard. Her mother automatically recognized it, and she smiled as more tears streamed down her red, puffy face. Then Jungkook started off.

"They say there was a secret cord," Jungkook began singing. Yes, the song is "Hallelujah". Bomi and her mother used to sing that together all of the time. They called it their song.

They finished the song and Bomi's mother stood up, weakly clapping. She was in tears, and she was happy. She pulled the three teens into a big hug. You have no clue how much Mrs. Song appreciated that. She needed that.

"You kids are too much....and boy am I lucky to have you," Mrs. Song whispered into the silence of the room. She was going to be okay....Bomi was going to be okay....they were going to get through this.

-
a/n
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