honey | taekook

one

the reflection staring back in the kitchen window was unrecognizable.

a milky complexion, the underside of each orb lined with bags the color of the night sky, speckled skin stained from sunlight and stress. it had sadness written all over it, the only curtain a mop of black curls in desperate need of a trim.

jungkook grunts at his own appearance before tugging the cup of coffee from beneath the machine before settling back far away from anywhere he could see his own figure.  even the sight of unpacked boxes and a dirtied floor were more welcoming than whatever had glanced back at him.

had you asked jungkook what life would have been like mere months ago, alone in an undecorated apartment wouldn't have topped the list.  it wouldn't have been on his radar.

the magazine in front of him made sure to highlight that fact.  it alluded to his high point of success, the momentous triumphs that he had been wrapped up in, the connections, the friends, his (soon-to-be-ex) wife, and of course the anticipation around a new album that he should be recording as of right now.

unfortunately for everyone, he hadn't even started it.

he was too wound up in being kicked out of the house he paid for, turned away from venues and ad deals. too busy being thrown from his throne.  too busy being a huge fucking disaster.

next to the stack of articles sat a coloring book, belonging to his sweet, sweet daughter.  the only person who was his fighting light at every dark twist, he thought of her smile and the way she mumbled goodnight and suddenly things weren't so bad.

but her smile couldn't fix it all, at least not this time.  the way she said daddy or did grabby hands- nothing could repair his heart from the ultimate betrayal of his best friend.  the one that ruined him, his career, his life.  that stripped him of his wife, of trust, of love.

park jimin and the sweet taste of addiction had taken it all with no remorse. just two twisted ships in the night that stripped him of his sanity and left him to the wolves where he'd bleed out and die amongst every other washed up idol in the country.

in a perfect world he'd pull it together and clean his image up, get back on track-

but the world wasn't perfect.
at least not to jungkook.

the bitter taste of coffee hit his tongue before the bourbon he had sunk to the bottom did. his nose scrunched at the sharp bite that left goose pimples on the back of his neck, the hairs standing straight as a street pole before a wind of refreshment relaxed each muscle in his body.

despite having a drink with dinner which was only hours ago, he had been craving for more.

he always was.

"jungkook?" the front door cracked open, the grinding of wood on wood creating a noise similar to that of an erased chalk board as a mop of freshly-dyed, purple hair walked through.

his manager. his saving grace. the only one who was still here- so it seemed.

"joonie!" the boy had eyes of a baby deer as he glanced to the new figure, "what are you doing here?" that familiar buzz lingered in the tip of his brain, leaving his lips numbed, he wondered why he was ever sober? it felt so good not to be.

"what are you doing?" the man didn't even bother to take his shoes off, eyes fixated on the rolled up rug and half put together couch, "did you not let the guys in today who were supposed to finish this?"

jungkook's eyes darted around trying to recall if anyone had stopped by.  at some point there had been a knock but he had been lost in his own world. back down on the bedroom floor as the ceiling spun around him, the prettiest ballerina dressed in neutral.  it would probably be easier to lie than to bring that up, "i don't think i heard any guys. maybe they came while i was on a run?"