STELLA SYNDROME. ✓

VIII. saturn

VIII.
s a t u r n

━━

[ w a r n i n g ]
graphic themes ahead

JUNGKOOK was ready to die.

it had been four days since he'd eaten. almost two since he'd had anything to drink. he tried to gulp down water a few days but had to gag himself with a cloth to hold back his wounded screams once it had touched the hot celestial bodies inside of him, reacting as fire and water do. he had thrown up like hell after that, not even having the strength to lean back repulsively at the mix of the digested liquid and stars in the toilet bowl, drenched his his blood.

four nights ago, hoseok had knocked on his door, and jungkook could see his feet shift nervously through the crack underneath. "hey guk?" he murmured from the outside, toeing the carpet with a sock-covered foot. at this point, he could still sit up, so he heaved himself into a sitting position and blinked. "um, we haven't seen you out of your room in a long time... we missed you at practice today; and yesterday... and monday." guilt pricked his heart, but he hastily shoved it aside.

the older boy continued, "everyone's worried about you. especially jimin." his ears perked up at the mention of the blonde, but then he wilted. he doesn't feel that way. "the poor boy's been trying to hide his anxiety, but he keeps pacing the halls all week, stopping at your door every minute or so but never knocking." see. "namjoon's getting really nervous, yoongi is on edge, taehyung is getting emotional, seokjin is having a mental breakdown and i'm just trying to assure myself that you're okay in there and you'll come out when your ready." he paused. "right?"

jungkook didn't have enough in him to lie to him once more, so he just fell back down against the rough carpet floor and closed his eyes.

━━

FOR the next few days, he shut himself out. he didn't leave to grab some food in the middle of the night when no one was awake, he didn't use the restroom because he didn't have to. he couldn't swallow because his throat was rubbed raw with the edges as sharp as thorns of the shards that pushed themselves up every few moments now.

it wasn't so much that he didn't want to, it was that he physically couldn't. jungkook couldn't move his body without his stomach lighting aflame, shooting up stars and sending him into a coughing fit. to help suppress it, he laid face-down on the floor, limbs sprawled in different directions. the stars couldn't find a way to move sideways, and it gave him some peace for a little while, until an overwhelming number of them would build up and burst through his esophagus. there was a massive heap of them underneath his bed that he would sweep with a plastic stick of a light-rod he had in his room, just in case someone came in. they had burned the carpet through to the concrete underneath, but that was the least of his worries now.

sometimes, jungkook would lay on his side and pull his knees up to his chest like a pitiful child. he would remind himself of all of the great things that had happened in his life. growing up in a wonderful family who funded his education and early career. being part of a now-successful band, winning awards they worked hard for. the friendships with these six boys, even jimin. especially jimin.

and it was on the tenth day he had laid there rotting when yoongi yelled from the outside, "i've had enough of this shit, jungkook. we're coming in, whether you like it or not."