PARK JIMIN grimaced as he took view of his best friend miserably quaffing the strong, translucent drink he rudely demanded from the bartender with his screwed condition. His lips were red from the burn of the powerful liquors and his cheeks were flushed from inebriation, exactly a perfect example of a man who was spiraling, heart unmistakably wrenching from breakdown.
Shot after shot with small talks regarding his situation with the whole divorce process and keeping a fair distance from the handsome male, he gradually began to show signs of temperament. Jimin beheld his emotions taking over as he phased not just long ago, angrily huffing while he rambles to himself once he lost his responsiveness then whining his complaints when he grieved just a minute later.
And now, there he sat quietly, staring unto the empty space filled with the stench of alcohol and burnt cigarettes while other customers were vocalizing from behind them, minding their own businesses though a few met their gazes from the chestnut haired male's early outbursts. The man with silver locks did try to halt the other from his collapsing state, but to no avail, the drunkard won him over. Thus, Jimin decided to wait with defeat, staring at his friend, unimpressed with his stunts.
Once he knew it was time, he gestured the bartender to dispose the shot glass that the other male had released and asked for some water. Thankfully enough, the employee didn't oppose and gave the water in an instant, probably because Jungkook had showered him with profanities and wanted nothing more but for him to sober up as well.
"Drink this," Jimin instructed, handing the highball glass that was brimmed by the clear and tasteless liquid. Fortunately, Jungkook didn't challenge and chugged it down, relishing the slight easiness the water granted from his flaring throat but steadily came to a stop when he felt bloated. His friend saw this and sighed, placing an arm on his back when he said, "Finish it. Slowly."
He blinked and took a large, forced draft. He then passed the glass and stroked his tousled hair, stirring awake from alcohol's suggestion to drowse. Given enough seconds, his senses roused and the foul scent lured him to the night before, the one that mingled with Taehyung's cologne and it reeled him again to reality. He had him in his arms that night then with a wink for sleep, he woke— what his fist held, all he'd ever truly owned and wanted was there— but his fingers now closed on air, clutching only his skin and bone to inflict him pain from sensitivity.
"You should be celebrating now that you got your way out from an insincere marriage," Jimin interrupted when he saw the stricken expression his sobered friend bore, "What's got you worked up?"
