Room 541 | Jungkook SMUT

XXVII | Epilogue

You pull into your driveway after having a very long day week at work. TGIF! You park your car and check your phone before going inside. You start reading an article that catches your eye, but you're interrupted... 'Make it Right' by BTS starts playing on the radio. You let it play, but you quickly become annoyed and shut it off. Listening to BTS makes you think of Jungkook. It's too much for you to handle. You've spent months trying to move on from that crazy weekend back in October. You don't want to backtrack. It took you a long time to accept the reality; it never could have ended up differently. You kept your word, too—you never told a soul about anything that happened. Nobody would believe you, anyways. That reminds you, two days after you went home from Morimoto, you saw Jungkook on K-pop News, as paparazzi caught him leaving the Incheon Airport WITH A HICKEY—thanks to you. You found that part amusing, but it was really difficult having to try to forget it all ever happened. You cried yourself to sleep for weeks, and some nights, you couldn't sleep at all. It's been almost 8 months, and you do think of Jungkook from time to time. You wish him well, always. It just hurts having to see or hear him. You wrote him a fan-letter once, but you didn't believe it would ever actually reach him, so you decided not to send it, just to protect yourself from disappointment. To be completely honest, you miss him. A lot. But it is what it is. It happened, and you're beyond grateful that it did. You've accepted that it's always going to remain 2 mere days out of your life. You wonder if ever cross his mind. Maybe you do, but he's so busy that he probably doesn't think about you, much. Who knows, maybe there was another girl at another concert, after you—another NDA signed, another shopping spree with the style-team, another broken heart... You'll never know. You do like to think you meant something to him, though. You heard it from him, from Nabi, from Namjoon...so he must miss you sometimes, right? These are the exact thoughts that you avoid because they make you spiral, mentally. This is why you can't listen to BTS anymore.

You shut your car off and head inside, taking the mail out of your mailbox. You throw your mail into the mail pile that you've been neglecting for well over a week. You'll get to it eventually. You debate what you should do first—pack or make dinner. You tend to procrastinate when it comes to packing, so you decide to be responsible and pack for the trip you're going on tomorrow. You and some friends are going camping for an extended weekend. You're leaving early tomorrow, Saturday June 19th and returning the 22nd around 8pm. You're really looking forward to it. You need to get out of the house.

You go to your storage closet and take out two suitcases. You go to your room and take out your backpack, too. Even though you're only going to be gone for a few days, you like to be prepared. You pack several outfits, your whole skin-care routine, all your toiletries, your makeup, hair products, your laptop, your camera, batteries, chargers, everything. You go to the kitchen to pack some snacks—you pack water bottles and granola bars. You pack a book, a notebook and pencil, an oil diffuser, and 2 different pairs of shoes. You put your passport in your purse just for an extra form of identification in case you need one. You've packed just about everything. Feeling relieved, you lay out your outfit for tomorrow and move all your luggage right next to your front door. You start making yourself dinner—roasted potatoes and brussels sprouts. While your food is in the oven, you text your friends about your upcoming plans. You're going to go up to a cabin on the lake and go boating, hiking, roast marshmallows, etc. You're really looking forward to everything.

You get a text from your friend, Amber:

"I'll be at your house at 7 am to get you! (:"

You reply:

"Sounds good!"

SEVEN hours in the car, one way. It's going to be brutal, but worth it.

As you're eating your dinner, you start going through your mail. Junk mail, junk mail, water bill, junk mail...what's this? You come to an envelope that has no sender information, but a big, red stamp that says "EXPEDITED". It's a rather large envelope, too. You open it and stick your hand in, feeling...a postcard, perhaps. You pull it out. You look down and almost start choking on your food. You slam it down in disbelief and your hands and feet go numb. It's not a postcard. You feel your heart about to beat out of your chest. You flip the card over—it's a polaroid photo...of room 541 with the rose-covered bed. The same photo you have. Your hands shake while you hold it. You reach your hand into the envelope again and pull out a folded letter with two pages. Still shaking, you open the letter. The first thing you notice is a butterfly in the corner. In big, bubbly handwriting, it reads: