Smoke Song

New Life

Jungkook stood in front of a mirror, staring himself down, tears streaking down his cheeks. He lifted an arm, staring at the flames as they ate away at his skin. A flash of movement in the mirror caught his attention, and he turned. Antis in their white uniforms stood there, spread out as far as he could see. They parted to reveal Soomin and Yoongi-- but Yoongi was a limp form in Soomin's arms, blood dripping out of the corner of his mouth. Soomin tossed him forward, smirking at Jungkook.

"Think you can escape me?" he said. "We'll see about that."

Jungkook backed against the mirror, and he was standing in front of the pillar again, the chains wrapped around his hands, flames racing up his body and sucking the air out of his lungs. He screamed, fighting to get away, but there was no one there to rescue him.

He was alone.

Jungkook's eyes snapped open. He laid on his side in bed, staring at the phone on the dresser. It was vibrating. Slowly, he pulled it toward him, checking the contact ID. No one he knew. He ended the call, then sat up slowly, hands shaking, staring at the keypad that appeared in its place.

He needed Taehyung.

He needed someone to tell him everything was alright.

But Yoongi's startled face hovered in his mind, reminding him of everything that had happened. He could never go back to them. Even now, he stared at his uniform in distaste, knowing it made him stand out on this side of the no-man's-land. People might not recognize him yet, but the outfit wasn't helping.

He would need to stop by a clothes' store... and perhaps a salon. His hair was getting longer anyways. He needed to be able to see.

He wished it would be that easy to find a job.

He let out a long sigh, biting his lip and closing his eyes. He didn't have time for this. He needed to get a job, so he could get a phone, so he could... what? Hide for the rest of his life?

He needed to get a grip. This was his new reality.

But he couldn't seem to get Yoongi's face out of his head.

"I mean, I guess I could give you some work hauling boxes... but what am I supposed to call you?"

Jungkook shrugged, running a hand through his hair, and the man in front of him rolled his eyes. "Fine then. Do you have a nickname? I'll grab a piece of paper."

Jungkook nodded, reaching over for the pen the man handed him, and wrote 'Kook' on the paper, watching as the man grinned down at it, folding it and slipping it into his pocket.

"Well, Kook, I'm Mingyu," he said. "I think you'll be best in the back. I'll show you where to find everything-- if you need something, just come and tap my shoulder, yeah?"

Jungkook nodded, rubbing the back of his neck and following Mingyu to the back of the shop, where another quiet young man nodded to him, making space for him in front of the sink where he was washing the dishes.

Minyu patted his shoulder and left, shooting the other young man a smile. The young man looked Jungkook over, his face a blank mask. "Here," he said, his voice low and soft. Jungkook looked down as the young man handed him a sponge, and soon found himself elbow-deep in the suds, scrubbing like his life depended on it. And maybe it did, because working took his mind off of everything, off of what he'd done.

He sighed, relaxing as he leaned against the sink, and the young man shot him a sudden smile, offering a bubble-covered hand.

"I'm Wonwoo," he said.

Jungkook shook his hand, returning his smile shyly. Wonwoo handed him a dish, and when Jungkook pulled the hose down to rinse it, the young man ran a hand through his hair, laughing as a clump of bubbles settled in his bangs. Jungkook laughed with him, ducking his head, and plunged into the sink for another dish, feeling some of the weight in his heart lighten.

Maybe it would actually be alright.