Spring Day | BTS ✔

15

I walked out of the courthouse, heart in my hands. I got off with a fine and a warning. Truthfully, I should've gotten a lot worse. I got in my car, sighing as I turn the ignition key. I hit my head against the wheel, going over what happened three days before as I pulled out of the parking lot.

It had been raining really hard. The weather was hot and humid and my head wasn't making rational decisions. I had gotten up and the guilt hit ribcage like a semi. I didn't know how people could deal with this poison, guilt, or how I had for four years.

I guess alcohol really helps that.

It wasn't until half past nine in the evening that I realized no amount of sleeping was going to fix the guilt. I got into my car and drove to the nearest bar I could find, trashing as much money on alcohol as I had in my wallet. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough to get me past two beers and a shot of vodka.

The guilt had passed, for the most part, and I made my way back to my car since the smell of sex, drugs, alcohol, and douchebags was too much for my brain to handle. I got back on the road and made my way towards wherever. I wasn't sure where I was going, only that I didn't want to go home just yet.

My phone rang and I looked down at it, swerving slightly. It was just a Twitter notification so I looked back up. As soon as I did, a car appeared in my view. I slammed their left taillight, jerking back to the correct lane as I watched them spin out. The rain was too much and they couldn't gain traction fast enough before a large twisted tree appeared through the thick of the rain and they almost wrapped the car around it's trunk.

I pulled over, racing out of my seat, the police already being dialed. I ran a hand through my hair as I waited for the sirens to show up the rain soaking every inch of my clothes.

The rest of that night I spent in temporary arrest while the accident was being investigated. The cold of the concrete holding cell didn't help clear the unconscious faces and bloodied bodies of two old friends who I once took care of as my own younger brothers.

A sobriety test that said I was still sober enough to drive was the only reason I didn't get a DUI or jail time. I couldn't bring myself to look at the news and hear the names of the two who'd I'd nearly killed.

I turned down a street heading to the one place I hadn't yet been able to bring myself to in the past three days. Seoul Center appeared soon enough.

"God Namjoon, Jimin, I'm so fucking sorry," I felt my throat clench, "I'm so, so, so fucking sorry."

I was parked in the visitors' lot for ten minutes before I built up the courage to get out. As soon as my car door was closed, a brown haired boy in a white sweater ran past, pinning me back to my car without so much as an apology. I sighed and shook it off, rain already soaking my form as I cautiously made my way into the reception area. I watched the boy who had pinned me to the car get led away by a nurse in purple scrubs. He was probably injured somehow, I thought. I tried thinking about that and not the guilt of what I had done to Namjoon and Jimin.

It wasn't long until I was walking out of the elevator. It was only a few hallways away from the reception desk for the adult side of the ward.

"Excuse me? I'm here to see Kim Namjoon and Park Jimin," It wasn't my voice so I looked up, shocked that I wasn't the only one visiting them. I froze in my place as I noticed who the nurse on duty was. My gaze drifted to the boy in the blue hoodie who was also staring at him.

"Jin?" Taehyung sounded shocked.

"Yoongi..." Jin caught my gaze past Taehyung and he turned around. Jin was wearing pink scrubs, not surprising since it had always been his favorite color – even if he never admited it to any of us. Taehyung looked so much older. He was soggy with rainwater, a small pool forming at his feet. He looked tired, as if he ran almost the whole way here.

"What are you three doing here?" I looked up to my right to see another familiar face appear in the hallway.

"Jungkook?" he looked older too, even more so than Taehyung. He wore the same damp clothes and sopping wet hair as the boy who'd pinned me to my car on the way in. His lip was stitched up and there was a little bruise forming on his temple.

"We're all here huh?" now we all looked down the left hallway. Hoseok stood there, almost not surprised to see us. He looked tired, but not from running, guilt, getting beaten up, or staying long hours at the ward like the rest of us. His fatigue was much longer lived it seemed, like he hadn't had a good night's sleep since we all left four years ago.

"Why are you all here?" Jin's voice was fragile and quiet, but sounded like thunder in the quiet ward.

"I'm Jimin's emergency contact," Taehyung explained.

"I'm Namjoon's," Hoseok stepped further into the light.

"I heard Namjoon was here...I wanted to..." Jungkook trailed off "See him."

Everyone turned to me since Jin's reason was obvious. I sighed and hung my head, biting back tears. Is it you who changed or is it me? I hate this moment, this time flowing by. I can't catch it, mend it, or make it all better for you. Instead, I've only made it worse.