Bully|tk

4| i woke up in someone else's bed

Taehyung—

I woke up in someone else's bed.

Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I glanced at the figure beside me, to find some random girl. I stared at her, blankly, letting my brain process what had happened yesterday.

Jungkook had come back to Korea, and to get him off of my mind, I'd stopped by a local club. I suppose I took one too many doses of alcohol, and ended up sleeping with this girl. Slowly, I slipped out of the bed, cringing at the stickiness that clung to me. With a quick glance at the girl, I padded to her bathroom, to take a quick shower.

I raked my hands through my soaked hair, squeezing the soap.

You should stop, my conscience whispered to me. I know I should. I should go to therapy or something. I should man up, and finally get over that damned Jeon Jungkook. Why am I the one suffering? It seems like he hasn't regretted anything that he's done, so why am I the the one who's still hurting?

I shut off the water, with a deep sigh, and quickly dried and dressed myself. I stepped out of the girl's bathroom, and found that she was still asleep. An unamused expression found its way to my face.

She was about as pathetic and hopeless as I am.

Swiping my phone, off of the floor, where it'd apparently been thrown in the midst of last night's events, I pocketed it, and made sure that I still had my keys.

I ruffled my hair, before quietly slipping out of the girl's one-room apartment. Softly, I closed the door behind me, and looked around, to see if I recognized this area.

It was just a suburban unit, like any other, and the good news was that I knew where I was. Seems like that girl lived near the bar; how convienant.

I made my way down the street, breathing in the fresh morning air. How peaceful it was.

Yet, karma seemed to hate my guts, since the still silence was cut off with the rumbling of an expensive car, revving at me. I sent a glare towards the black tinted windows, before stomping off. I was hoping that the car would just leave, but it kept following me, as I tried to head home.

Finally, the window rolled down, revealing an older man, whose graying roots were starting to take place of his bleached hair.

"Hey, pretty boy, would you like to hop in?" He called. I sent him a murderous scowl, before continuing to walk away.

The man still continued to follow me.

"Come on, baby! I'll treat you nice and gentle!"

I narrowed my eyes, and finally strayed off course, to head to the man's car.

His smug smile soon wiped off, when I aimed a kick at his door. "Hey! What do you think you're doing?" He yelled.

"What do you mean?" I asked, laughing, manically. "I'm just repaying you back for the inconveniance that you've caused me this morning!" I brought my fist to the guy's backseat window, making it crash and shatter. The man stared at me, mouth hanging agape, and expression in between of fear and anger.

I shook my hand, revelling in the pain that shot up my arm, and smiled at my bloodied and torn up knuckles.

"Thanks for letting me vent on your car." I grinned, widely but the brightness didn't reach my eyes, giving me a slightly off look. "Next time, don't cat-call random strangers. You don't know how far off someone is until you meet them face-to-face."

With that, I turned on my heel, and headed back to the safety of the sidewalk, to avoid getting run over. I slipped into an alleyway, knowing that it was a shortcut back home, and that I'd lose the guy if he decided to chase after me, once the shock died down.

I walked through the winding, narrow, streets, ignoring the stabbing pain from my left arm. I made sure to hit the man's window with the arm I didn't write with.

Once, I'd spotted my small apartment, I hurried towards the door, and dashed inside.

Emotionless, I went to my kitchen, and grabbed the first aid kit. It wasn't my first time hurting myself, so I had a whole cabinet dedicated to medicine and bandages. I washed and cleaned my tattered knuckles, before rubbing medicine on it, and wrapping a bandage around it. My arm hurt, so I'd probably broke something; which means another trip to the hospital.

I grabbed a small blanket, and wrapped my arm in it, making a make-shift sling. It was the best I could do for now. I was tired, and all I wanted to do was sleep.

Slowly, I trudged to my room, and flopped onto the bed, shoes still on my feet.

Wearily, I let my eyes close, and let the drowsiness take my body away.

Sleep was probably the only time I was closest to being back to my old self. Yet, it was just sleep. I wake up as the same fucked up Taehyung.

Nothing more, nothing less.

—

Jungkook—

Taehyung came back to school, the next day, with his arm in a cast. I casted a worried glance at him, but I remembered the words he'd told me before. I'm sure he could still beat me up, with just one arm, no doubt. He'd defintely changed.

I know nothing about this new Taehyung.

Yesterday, Jimin had brought me back to the others and we all reconciled. Yet, I still felt an oppressing air. I knew that they all blamed me for damaging Taehyung, even if they didn't want to say it. I knew it was all my fault, but I honestly didn't know that he was going to react like this.

Who knew that he had that in him?

I guess, now is too late to go back and tell him that I'm sorry. He'd probably take it the wrong way, and accuse me of trying to clean my guilty conscience, and honestly, that was all it was. A guilty conscience; nothing more. It wasn't like I cared about what happened about him. I just felt bad that he suffered because of me, that's all.

Does that sound confusing?

I suppose it does.

Now, I was leaning against the wall, in the entrance of the school, with Jimin. He seemed to have forgiven me, but I knew that he was still wary of me. I wanted to reassure him that I didn't want to mess with Taehyung, but I doubt that he'd trust me.

I guess I really did mess up, in this case.

But, do I care?

Only, slightly.

I'm just bothered, is all.

Nothing more, nothing less.

—

I listen to a bunch of sad kpop songs to get into the mood for this story :) I'm just not used to writing so much angst.

-Author-nim