art || vkook || discontinued

paint-stained hands

numb. that's all he ever feels. the overwhelming sensation of nothingness weighs him down from day to day. he drags his feet as he walks, his head hangs low, his back is slouched, his eyes are void of everything but unadulterated misery. he hasn't truly been happy in years, and, as time passes, he brings more worry to the people who surround him.

he doesn't know where his misery stems from. he has two supportive parents, a lovely couple of friends who would walk the earth for him, good grades, and a decent part-time job at a small art store. despite this, he feels lacking. he hates his perfectly domestic life, hates his two bedroom apartment that sits just outside the city. there's a constant war inside his head, the need for life and the desire for death battle relentlessly, and, for the most part, life has the upper hand.

but, on this one day, with the sun shining and the streets filled with cheerful smiles and joyful conversation, life becomes the underdog.

jungguk is walking amongst the crowds of seoul when he's hit with a wave of sadness so immense that he nearly collapses, his throat tightens and he becomes light-headed, millions of negative thoughts come pouring in all at once, suffocating him, making it hard to breathe. no one spares him a second glance as he stumbles his way into the nearest convenience store, running to lock himself in the bathroom.

once the door is bolted firmly behind him, jungguk allows himself to collapse, allows tears to stream from his eyes, sobs to escape from his mouth. he's confused and scared, trying to block out the harsh words that flood his brain.

worthless.

unwanted.

unloved.

he covers his ears with his hands, desperate for relief.

no one would miss you. it'd just be another weight lifted from their shoulders. no more late night phone calls and pathetic cries. you're nothing but a burden.

jungguk scrambles for his phone as he cries, praying that his friend is awake. it rings and rings and rings and, eventually, he hears the familiar robotic voice, telling him to leave a voicemail for the blond man to listen to later on. the sobbing boy goes to try with another, only to stop himself as he's about to press call. he shouldn't be bothering his friends with things that don't concern them. they don't care if jungguk is in pain, they certainly wouldn't care if he died.

with that final thought in mind, the boy wipes the tears from his face and takes a shaky breath. he picks himself up off the filthy ground and lets himself out of the bathroom, head down, shoulders hunched, and makes his way to the tall apartment building across the street, determined to put an end to the voices screaming in his mind.

he bows to the receptionist standing behind the front desk and heads to the elevators, hitting the button for the top floor. jungguk watches as the numbers slowly rise, waiting for them to hit fifteen. when a neon thirteen lights up in front of him, jungguk's phone rings. he sighs as he pulls it out of his pocket. now is not a good time to call back, it's too late. he quickly ignores the call, repocketing his phone, only to sigh once more when he receives multiple text messages.

yoongi:

gguk?

are you okay?

why did you ignore my call?

please don't tell me you're about to do something stupid

as he reads the final message his phone lights up again, and, same as before, he rejects the call. the elevator doors slide open, allowing jungguk to step into the hall of the fifteenth floor. the boy follows the signs that point in the direction of the roof access door.