'Jimin wants to get back together.'
Six words. That's all they were. That's all he had seen. That's all he had needed to see. He had always known that there was a finite amount of time before this exact thing would happen. Before he would have to process the fact that he was no longer needed. And he wondered how long it would last. If he was just meant to wait until the next time the cycle restarted.
At some point he stopped and got gas, not actually willing to run out and be trapped in some nameless place. Briefly considered just staying in the little tiny village that didn't even have a stop sign. No, just a single gas station in the middle of a sea of houses.
But he didn't And by the time he turned around it was dark and he was so lost that he had to use GPS to find his way back. There was so much emptiness filling his heart. So much pain and anger. So much that he wanted to say. And all of it was aimed at himself. For being so foolish. So stupid. For letting himself think for a single moment that anything would ever turn out well.
The sun was rising when he finally made it back, hands trembling as he unlocked the door and shoved it open, sighing at the eerie stillness of the apartment. There was no one there. Nothing for him to actually come back to.
So why had he? Why hadn't he just kept on going until he found some place else? Some place new, some place where no one knew him? Where he could start over. Make a new life.
Because that wasn't who he was. Because his fate was to remain here. To suffer.
His phone was dead, and he plugged it in using the charger next to his bed. Didn't even bother stripping out of his clothes before he flopped down and tried to let the weight lift from his shoulders.
But all that happened was he ended up sobbing into his pillow until the surface was soaked through with his tears. Until his skin was blotchy and pink and he was so stuffed up that he could barely breathe. Until he lost track of time and before he knew it the sun was shining and he couldn't even bring himself to get up. To go wash himself of the shame.
The end was always meant to happen. He just never knew that it would be sooner rather than later.
...
It was days before he actually bothered to read over the entire series of text. Sitting there curled up into a ball on his couch. Going through them felt like someone was repeatedly stabbing a blade directly into his heart. But he was tired of constantly seeing he notification, a reminder of all that had been. Like Jungkook's ghost was there haunting him.
'You look so beautiful baby. Daddy is sorry he can't be there for his good morning kisses. I had something to take care of.'
'Be free for me tonight, okay baby? Daddy wants you so much.'
He wanted to stop there. He did. Wished that he could just forget what came next existed. But he couldn't.
'Fuck. I don't know how to say this sweetheart.'
'Jimin wants to get back together.'
That was it. Just those six words. Nothing more. Nothing less. Nothing came after. No other explanation. No offering as to weather or not it had actually happened. And he wasn't meant to ask questions. He wasn't meant to know. So he just left it. Deleted all of it in one fell swoop and actually considered erasing Jungkook's number entirely. Blocking it and being done.
But he wasn't strong enough. Because something within him whispered that this wasn't the end. That it wasn't really over. Nothing in his life ever was.
...
Nothing in his life was ever really over.
Just like nothing ever really changed.
He still wasn't sure if Taehyung was just using the apartment as some kind of glorified closet. And he hadn't ever gotten the chance to ask. Not until he came home one day to find the other in the middle of the living room, sorting through a pile of clothing that he was completely certain was new.
"You're home late." Something inside of him wanted to ask how Taehyung would even known, considering he was never there. But he bit it back. Held it inside as he dropped his things off on the center island and walked into the kitchen.
"I picked up a double shift." Lately he had been looking at apartments, no longer wanting to basically be the care taker of someone's closet. He had long since been aware that he was being left behind. That his only remaining usefulness was watching over someone's massive amounts of clothing. But admitted it out loud would make it real. And he truly didn't think he was strong enough for that.
"You've been doing that a lot lately." Again, he wanted to ask how Taehyung would actually know. Except they worked together, so of course he would know that much.
"Yeah, well, trying to save up to get my own place." Bending over to retrieve a bottle of juice from the refrigerator, he spoke as he stood back up, twisting off the cap and tossing it into the trash.
"What are you talking about?" There was a hint of surprise there that he hadn't been expecting, and it only made the resulting sigh even heavier.
"Look, I'm happy for you Tae. I am. I know how long you've had a thing for Yoongi. But I can't keep staying in a glorified closet, you know?" Because that's all it really felt like at this point. An over sized closet and he was a mouse who had been allowed to invade.
"That's not -" But it was. It was exactly what was happening and they both knew it. Only Seokjin was far too tired to actually stand there and argue the fact. Drinking an entire bottle of apple juice in one go only served to cause a swift kick of pain to flare up on his temples, but he ignored it as he crossed the expanse of living room and headed back towards his own.
"I'll let you know when I've found something." And that was it. That was all the more he was ever going to allow it to be. A definite ending to a question that had been plaguing him for so long.
...
There was a cute little studio above one of the bars in the same neighborhood as the restaurant where he worked, just big enough for him. The kitchen was tiny, with barely enough counter space for a coffee maker and microwave. But there was a full sized refrigerator and range, perfect for his needs. The bathroom was the actual selling point. Apparently the owner had lived there for a rather long time herself before getting married, and had taken her baths very seriously. The tub was huge, with massaging jets and a separate shower stall where the water fell over head like rain. It was small and cozy and most importantly he would be able to afford it without working himself into an early grave.
So he put down the deposit and first months rent. Hired people to move his things despite how he knew he could, rationally, still ask Taehyung and Yoongi for their help. Packed his entire life away into boxes and left everything that wasn't his behind. Only took the television from the living room because it had originally been his purchase and it wasn't like it was ever going to be watched otherwise.
Bought a tiny little couch and new furniture to match the bright, pure white of the walls and floors. Decorated it in dark, muted colors. Kept his accents simple. Pale pinks and few lavenders in way of throw pillows. It was simple and minimalist but he didn't care. It was his. Not someone's massive walk in closet that he was just fortunate enough to be allowed to live in.
And that alone made him feel better. Sure he was alone. Sure there would never be anyone there waiting for him. Would never again walk up those stairs and find someone sitting at his door. But maybe it was best if he left those memories behind. If he allowed them to fade.
No, not maybe. It was. So he did.
