𝐄𝐘𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐘

63 | a toast

Am I sad that Jungkook left town without telling me?

Yes.

But I'm not sad in the immensely sorrowful way that makes you want to do reckless things like key a car or throw a brick on a window or call the person responsible for making you feel like shit and yell at them for being so inconsiderate and heartless while black tears are streaming down your face.

No, I am not sad.

I am deeply disappointed in Jungkook.

I'm hurt.

I want to call him. Text him even. But I won't allow myself to do that. If anyone he should be the one to contact me.

A black pit has opened up in my mind welcoming all kinds of scenarios. I'm brainstorming and I feel like I'm gonna go insane as I think of Jungkook just chilling in some opulent apartment in Seoul, drinking a bourbon on the rocks while a beautiful Korean girl with perfect hair seduces him and he falls for it. In another case, he's out partying all night and wakes up in a hotel with the mother of hangovers and multiple naked girls laying next to him. Oh and the best one of all-he's left with someone and he's spending some quality time away from New York while I'm sitting here drowning all of those fantasies in my new loyal fruity companion: 'Red Your Smile'. It's basically a Raspberry Smash, the waiters here just changed the name to make it look fancy.

I fucking hate myself for ovethinking the entire situation when clearly the person who's in this 'relationship' with me doesn't give a shit. What's worse is that I had to find out that he's gone from his egotistical step brother. If the rest of his family is as narcissistic as Adonis I can understand why Jungkook turned out the way he is now. However, that doesn't justify the fact that he fucked up.

I'm currently in Amantes Amentes and I can say that my alcoholism is only developing with each drink I gulp down. I've had two drinks and they're not particularly strong. I can still think clearly and I'm aware of my surroundings so I won't be getting into any trouble tonight. I'm not gonna get fucked up for Jungkook's sake. Besides, I still need to go to work at ten.

I'm sitting at the bar all alone with two empty glasses and I'm halfway through the third one. All of them are the same sweet n sour raspberry mix that I can't seem to ever get tired of. I always stick to the same beverage because when a drink is good it's always good and there are no regrets. Unless of course someone spikes it, then I'm screwed either way.

A laugh escapes my lips at the thought. "I'm screwed either way. You hear that?" I tell the busy bartender who's switching between mixing rins and gathers more ingredients that mostly consist of fruits and booze. Then I giggle to myself as I switch positions on the tall bar stool. I almost fall from it and I grip onto the counter like my life depends on it.

"Well that's fucked up." The bartender is obviously indifferent but that doesn't stop me from talking. "Your stools are so tall. Us shorties need to climb a ladder to get up here."

He gives me a quick look to see if my previous life is endangered because of those stupid chairs and a hiccup rises to my throat.

Okay, maybe I'm a little bit drunk.

But only a little bit.

Okay maybe a lot.

"Should I call an Uber for you?" The blonde bartender asks while shaking the rin. "You don't seem so good."

"I'm perfectly o-" hiccup "-kay."

He shrugs and returns to making his drinks. "If you say so."

I cross my arms on the counter and lay my head on them. "Do you have a girlfriend?" I ask him.