Jimin
Days on trial: 66
There were about three things I was absolutely sure of.
The first was that clay face masks were a gift from the gods. Why I wasn't doing them before I met Chloe, I'd never know. My skin had never felt so soft and supple.
The second was that I needed to have the ring that was hidden underneath my bed resized. Chloe's fingers were tiny. It would just fall off. There was no way I'd be having her lose a family heirloom at midnight on the beach over on Jeju. My mum would kill me. And so would Chloe.
And thirdly, it was that Jungkook was an idiot. Just like Annie said.
Twisting a coin in the lock of our bathroom door, I knew that he wouldn't actually be showering. He only turned it on to muffle the sound of him crying. The lack of a bedroom with four walls had forced him to be creative.
Sat with his legs tucked up to his chin, back against the wall, steam billowed around him. He didn't flinch when the door opened, nor when I shut the shower off or took a seat next to him. Instead, he just sniffed and wiped his eyes with his sleeves, embarrassed for having been caught in such a state.
"What's happening, man?" I implored, searching for signs of an answer in his petal pink eyes. Ravaged from tears, it had been a while since I had seen him like this. The last time had been after a back-to-back movie marathon, where he'd watched The Notebook, followed by Titanic. He stayed silent, lips pursed shut. "C'mon, dude, talk to me."
Gnawing at his bottom lip to keep it from trembling, he shook his head slowly, a small sardonic smile gracing his lips. "Everything's fucked."
He didn't seem to be interested in rational thinking, so I wasn't going to patronise him with it. "How so?"
There was a pause. Then a sob. And then, finally, a sigh.
Ruffling his hands through his hair, he shrugged, resting his tired eyes on his lap.
"Tiff showed up at my mom's."
"Uninvited?" I had to confirm. I knew he wouldn't have willingly fucked Annie over. He wouldn't be in this state if he had.
"By me," he nodded, closing his eyes. "But not by my mom. I hadn't told her we'd ended."
I inhaled sharply, wincing.
"I know, I know," he beat me to it, berating himself. "I'm an idiot. Out of sight, out of mind, I guess."
He'd always been shit at remembering to call home. At least four times in the last week, he'd mentioned 'needing' to call his mom, but he never did. She didn't call either, so it was easy to see where the habit had formed.
"So?" I urged, attempting to coax more out of him. I wanted clarification on what had happened, but I wanted him to give it to me willingly. I wanted to see if he'd admit to what we all knew, without having to tell him that we knew. I wanted to feel peace in the fact that he wasn't gonna dodge the truth in a bid to keep Annie happy.
He wouldn't. He simply wasn't built that way. Lying didn't come easily to him.
"So," he sighed. "I didn't make her leave. I should have done. I just didn't want to cause drama, not on Christmas, so I let her stay..."
He let the syllable of his last word hang in the air, like the head that was on his shoulders. "She kissed me."
"I know."
"I lost my colours."
Our words mangled upon one another, his quiet statement buried slightly underneath my bold declaration. The pair of us looked at each other with bright wide eyes and slack jaws from our respective revelations.
