Tae's Tea Cup

It was painful to know you didn’t feel the same, you still don’t and you probably never will. So, she closeted her feelings towards you. Her parents found out when they saw her in bed with her female tutor. They had an image to carry so they fired the tutor and told their daughter to cage her feelings, they made the latter date rich guys who’d marry her and take over the family business because she is just a woman.

She carried on with her life trying to be a good student, the valedictorian her parents always wanted her to be. She felt like someone stabbed her in the heart every time she saw you with Jimin but she was happy for you, nonetheless. She liked when you smiled. But she could never put it past her lips to tell anybody her dirty little secret. Not even when she knew you’d only support her. It came with baggage, after all.

Then she met Hobi who understood her and treasured her regardless, it made her develop affection towards him. The best part was that her parents liked him and her life was set. But her feelings for you remained. A sliver of hope was ignited in her gut when you broke up with Jimin. Maybe you’d finally see her now, right?

She slept with him because in her drunken state she thought it fit to take revenge. Revenge for not reading between the lines when she gave you enough hints. For not wanting her the way she wants you. Or perhaps it wasn’t revenge at all. She hates to admit it but deep down she knows she wanted to taste the same lips that tasted you, she wanted to drown herself in your scent, she wanted to be under the same sheets that you once used to be. She unknowingly wanted to break your heart to make things even. Obsession can be of many forms; this was one of them.

It got worse when you met that Jungkook guy online. And for some reason, she thinks he brought bad omen with him, like the plague. She doesn’t know whether it is pure jealousy that brands her biased or perhaps he truly is the devil, her heart starts racing every time you say his name. He is the reason why you got yourself muddled in that mess with a stalker.

She doesn’t trust him, rightfully so.

She trusts her intuition which, once again, proves her right. The last few weeks of the last semester was excruciatingly painful for her. Not only does she have to live with the guilt of hooking up with her best friend’s ex, but she also has to see a frown on your face every time you run into her. You live together after all. When she told you about her misdoings, she expected you to scream at her, to even throw a vase at her. She deserved it. But all you did was look at her in disbelief for what felt like hours.

She couldn’t even meet your gaze; the guilt was killing her alive. It was only then that she realised that you had left the room when she heard your bedroom’s door slam.

Today is the day she will be graduating with you. You had planned to go to the venue together and take memorable pictures. It was a pact made of stone but broken ever so quickly as if it was hit with a bulldozer. She heard you leave the apartment early in the morning, your department’s graduation ceremony was to start earlier. Miserable in her sheets, she held your high school yearbook clenched tightly in her arms. It wasn’t the official yearbook, the two of you had created it as an inside joke, painting you both as the main characters of this particular montage of photos. A testimony that you lived these memories together.

Her intentions to open the photobook was innocent but it was soon met with bewilderment. In almost all the group photos she found a boy staring at you. At first, she took it as a coincidence when it was evident in only two or three photos. But the numbers kept increasing, and her confidence in considering it normal kept decreasing.

The boy had dark hair which covered most of his face. He had a crooked jaw and was dressed in dark and baggy clothes. It seemed as if he was going through an emo phase. But his jaw looked concerning as if it had survived a massive blow and was dislocated in the process. Skimming through the collage she found one picture where his whole face was visible. There was something about his doe eyes and broad nose that brought a sense of familiarity in her.

Who could it be? She scanned through the official yearbook that was previously tucked safely below her bed. Pages kept turning but her attempt to recognise that face was in vain. Suddenly, she came across a name that she has recently become acquainted with – Jeon Jungkook.

Her fingertips freeze on its track.

Is this the same Jungkook? More importantly, did you know about this? She doesn’t remember much from the night you went to meet Jungkook for the first time. She doesn’t even remember how he looks from the photo you showed her. She mentally face-palms herself for being drunk that night. Regardless of whether she has his photo or not she has a feeling she has seen those doe eyes recently somewhere.

But she is at a loss of ideas when she tries to call you or text you, but neither do you pick up the phone nor do you see the text. So, she leaves you a voicemail asking you if you knew Jungkook from school or not, all the while she hurries to the university, half-dressed.

Throwing her graduation gown over her frame, she makes a beeline for the apartment entrance. The door swings open uncovering a man standing right outside. She had only run across him once; the day he had moved in. Distracted by the lengthy gown, she whips her head in her mysterious neighbour’s direction.

“Can I help you?”

He wears his hair in a pompadour and his ripped body clad in a black suit. He stands with perfect composure yet there’s something about his twitching hand that makes her look up. It’s when she meets his doe eyes scanning her frame, the realisation hits her.

“Oh my- you-”

Smirking dauntingly, he pushes her inside the apartment. One hand clenching her back, and the other palming her mouth, restraining her from screaming – he shuts the door with a loud bang.

⤚ ✵ ⤙

Jimin’s POV –

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. We have landed at Incheon International Airport where the local time is 11:30 and the temperature is 21 degrees. We hope you have enjoyed your flight with American Airlines this evening and wish you a very safe journey to your final destination.”

His heart pounds, and his hand begins to feel clammy against his bouncing knee. He breaks into a sweat as he gets up and tugs his suitcase from the luggage compartment. He starts to pace back and forth, stomping his feet impatiently while he waits for the other passengers to step out. The very act of thinking was hurting his brain, and his heart was still threatening to burst forth from his ribcage.

It will take him around half an hour to reach your university. You don’t know that he’ll be present at your graduation ceremony but how could he miss your big day? He doesn’t know how to face you after what he did. Of course, Wendy must have told you. You are best friends after all.

It took him everything he had to refrain from not fighting for you when you had told him that you didn’t love him anymore seven months ago. Maybe it was all in his head – you telling him you didn’t feel the spark any longer. He respected you more than he craved you. So, he did what his stupid brain thought was fit. He agreed with you to take a break, which turned out to be indefinite.

Breaks are supposed to end, and patch-ups are supposed to follow. That’s how true love works. He couldn’t move on from the never-ending separation from you. Somehow, it seemed like you did move on. But then he ran into you in that café and your cheeks turned crimson red when he said you looked pretty.

It can’t be a mere coincidence, right?

He was raised to take over his father’s business empire after him which, in a way, pushed him away from you. Busy schedules, tiring days, frustrated moods – everything piled up to build a wall between you and him. But he didn’t let that affect him when you gave him a second chance. One thing led to another and you ended up having phone sex with him. He booked a flight right away, attracted to you like a moth to a flame. That night you let him touch you, feel you up, have him graze his tongue against yours. It would have escalated had it not been for that creepy stalker.

You must still love him.

All it took for him to realise that he was not over you was when Wendy, your best friend, was under him; getting pounded on the mattress. He enjoyed it at the moment but when it ended it took away his dignity. Holding it tight, he sobbed in his pillow while Wendy snored beside him. Feeling overwhelmed, he wanted to call you but he couldn’t since he had attained the knowledge that you had started dating.

“Fuck,” he mumbled, eyeing the purple velvet box in his hand that contains the twinkling diamond ring he had picked for you many months ago, thinking of proposing soon but the ring never saw a day on your fingers. You had broken up many times in the past but it always led to steamy and passionate make up sex. He has not lost hope yet. Whoever this Jungkook guy is, he doesn’t have the kind of history with you as Jimin has, and he will prove it to you at any cost.

He is obviously not going to pop the question today, no. That will only result in an imprint of your hand forming on his cheek. He has to win you back. And he will cross just about any limits for that to happen. For months he has been keeping an eye on your social media updates, even had your passwords which to his dismay you ended up changing. He guesses it’s because of the stalker because he’s positive that you did not realise that he knows all your passwords, or at least knew. Perhaps throughout the years the love he had for you planted a seed of this burning obsession possesses that makes him want to consume every bit of you.

“Please, ____, please take me back,” he slurs under his breath making the taxi driver turn his head in confusion.

“Huh?” He quirks his eyebrow. “You said something?”

“Uh, nothing.”

⤚ ✵ ⤙

Jungkook’s POV –

Cold wind wafts inside the room, making him pull the blanket higher. He lays on his bed, stripped naked, his angry and reddened cock standing tall, precum oozing out of it. He palms it slowly, whining when the sensation is too much to take. Grabbing the sheets, he opens one eye to sneak a peek at your nude form on his laptop screen.

You enter your room, dropping the pastel pink towel around your body and throwing it back in your bathroom. Your nipple perks up and your breasts bounce as you strut around to gather your belongings. You look tensed when you lift your head to massage your neck, slowly applying moisturiser all over your skin. It makes his cock twitch, making him fasten his pace. He glares at you lustfully, releasing croaked groans in his wake.

He wanted you so bad, his hand just isn’t enough to quench his thirst. He wanted your mouth around his pulsating shaft, bobbing your head up and down, sucking his filthy cock dry. He wanted to thrust vehemently in your throat, making you choke. He wanted you to swallow his cum when he painted the insides of your cheeks all white, being a good girl for him. And then he wanted to pull you by your hair and kiss you passionately, tasting his sins in the process. He wanted to leave beautiful purple bruises all over your neck just like the matching sweater you wore the first time you met him, or so you thought.

Just the mere thought of you lying naked and tied under him, completely under the mercy of his wicked intentions, makes him cum so hard that his eyes roll to the back of his skull. He groans loudly, arching his back as warm liquid smears all over the blanket and the sheets.

“Fuck, ____!” he hisses as oversensitivity seizes him, draining the blood out of his brain.

Throwing the blanket on the floor, he hastily gets up. His plump butt is now fully on display as the sun propels its velvety glow over his body. He has grown bulkier and stronger. Spending hours of weightlifting and boxing have paid off. Not only is he chiselled like a Greek god, but he also has the strength to overpower anyone during any time, all according to his plan.

He looks back at your now fully dressed form; applying makeup while you sadly glance at the mirror. It’s the same mirror that you like to look at when you touch yourself during nights of passion and lust. But you look tired and aloof when you ogle back at the ornamental mirror, decorated with bronze flowers as the frame. He rejoices his decision to hack into your monitor’s webcam, it has been a source of pleasure for both his emotional and physical needs.

He doesn’t have to wait anymore; you are going to become his today. He has tried many times in the past to initiate moments of desire with you when his hands travelled to forbidden places on your body that awaits his traces. But you always pulled away, making one excuse or the other. He never understood why. All these forms of surveillance he has over you, yet cannot put a finger on what goes inside your head.

He burns with jealousy when he thinks about that night your mouth melted in Jimin’s, how he was seconds away from undressing you fervently. He hated the way you looked at that brat, with nothing but love. He wanted to kill that pest but it was impossible. It would’ve led to a disaster that would pull you away from him forever. So, he did whatever was in his power. He bolted from his apartment next door and with the duplicate keys her had acquired by fucking the building owner, he cut the power in your building. It obviously had consequences, so did his resolution to break all the CCTV cameras in your building up till your floor. But he will do anything to have you.

He doesn’t love you, no. But he feels something stronger for you. It stems from feeling rejected, insulted, abused, and tortured during his blossoming age. He recalls the day he moved into that little town of yours. His first day in your school was the best day of his life because he met you. Of course, you didn’t pay much attention to him, it was just a glance towards his crooked face – something that was a result of the numerous blows he received one day when his father came home drunk and angry, dislocating his jaw. It was the last straw for his mother, she left the house with Jungkook the very next day and moved to your town.

He had a rough childhood, the kind of life one would never wish even on their enemies. His father was an abusive monster, and his mother was a joke of a human being. He tortured her and she let him torture her. She didn’t even bat an eye when her son became the victim of his rage, rather she looked relieved that she could go on days without having red and purple bruises forming all over her body. He guesses he’ll never know why she chose to leave his father that day. Maybe seeing her son’s ugly and damaged face made her heart melt. Though, she never took him to a doctor. He had to live on painkillers that he stole from his mother’s drugs stash.

He laughs whenever someone mentioned taking the help of law enforcement because they don’t care about people who truly need help. Fifty police cars will pull up at once if a celebrity or a politician tripped but who wants to take care of a low-life battered kid?

People pitied him whenever they saw his broken face from then on. He hated it when they looked at him for more than five seconds. However, everything changed when he met you. His body was shaking with nervousness when he had first joined your class but a wave of calmness took over him when he looked at you. You looked ethereal, your long hair framed your rosy cheeks and your little fingers scribbled something away in your notebook. You took his pain away with the way you furrowed your brows, probably writing something important.

He wanted to kiss you.

Then you looked up and met his gaze, making him quickly look away. He felt insecure, he did not want you to pity him or even worse, be disgusted by him. Nevertheless, he was just as curious to find out your response so he quickly peeked at you, leaving him in utter shock. You smiled at him the moment you caught him staring. You were not like the others, you admired him like he was your equal. There was no sign of pity in your demeanour. He fell for you that day.

Years passed by and he became invisible. His social anxiety ceased his chances to grow courage and at least say a friendly hello to you. To his dismay, you never tried either. You completely forgot about him. You found yourself an older, rich and strikingly good-looking boyfriend – Park Jimin. But he never lost hope, he lurked in the corners, observed your every move, your likes and dislikes, your turn-ons and turn-offs. He read you like poetry, and he memorised you like the roadway to heaven.

You were taken away from him in eleventh grade when the class population was reshuffled according to your majors. He wasn’t intelligent enough to land in your class, shattering his hope. All he could do was sniff your used panties that he had stolen, among other items, and weep deafeningly for his loss.

His father tried to make a comeback when he realised that Jungkook had landed quite a fortune after his maternal grandparents passed away. He was eligible for the riches once he turned eighteen. Hence, on his eighteenth birthday, his father made an uninvited appearance that left Jungkook in revisiting his trauma. So, he did what he had to. His father was never heard from after that day. No one suspected a thing since it was common for him to go missing every now and then.

But by that time his mother had been wasted by her own demons and paralysis engulfed her in its shadows. He knew what he had to do with all the wealth he had secured. He decided to get plastic surgery done to fix his once eye-catching looks, a feature he inherited from his mother – that eventually succumbed to the hideousness he wielded.

Jungkook tried to forget about you, he really did. And he was successful. He stopped stalking you and tried to move forward when you started college but fate had a sick way of reuniting old flames. He found you on Reddit just when he thought he could get over you. It’s like you chased him, screamed in his ears for attention. So, he gave it to you.

“Hey, ____. I know you are mad at me, rightfully so. But I just wanted your attention on something very very important. I was going through our school yearbook and I found someone named Jeon Jungkook on it. I don’t want to alarm you or anything but did you know him since school? The guy you are currently dating. I don’t know, I’ve never met him but it’s a little weird, don’t you think? …And ____, I’m truly sorry for what I did, there’s no excuse for me to defend myself this time. If I could go back in time, I would change everything. I will do anything for you to have you trust me again. Please forgive me… And congratulations. I’ll see you at uni.”

Throwing the phone away with rage, he pulls his pants up. Of course, the bitch has to interrupt his persuasions yet again. He is glad he tapped your phone and has access to all forms of your communication. He is also glad that the wanted person in question lives next door, making his purpose much easier. This time he is going all in, just for you.

⤚ ✵ ⤙

You hug Jisoo tight while awkwardly glancing at her boyfriend, Yoongi, who keeps fidgeting around like a lost puppy. That fortunate day in the library, when Yoongi had rudely coughed at you lots for talking loudly, had resulted in a union that surprised not only you but Jisoo herself.

He clears his throat and nods at you, his own way of congratulating you. Their personalities are polar opposite, yet they fit like puzzle pieces.

You are standing in an open field, decorated with themed ribbons, garlands, and tents – surrounded by a cluster of graduates wandering here and there in their graduation gowns and DIY-ed mortarboards. Many are accompanied by friends and family. There are numerous chairs covered in embellished pastel blue cloth by the stage, two of them probably occupied by your mother and father.

“You haven’t seen Wendy by any chance, have you?” Jisoo treads carefully when she asks you. She knows you are not on talking terms but she doesn’t know why, and she has enough patience to wait till you are comfortable to open up to her.

Surprisingly, you haven’t seen Wendy today as well. You like to think that she hid away because she’s too embarrassed to face you and your family, that’s what she has been doing ever since she told you about her misdeeds. You had dreamt of enjoying the day with her for years but now it seems peaceful not having to deal with the drama she brings with her. You just want to get over with today’s shenanigans.

“No, I have not,” you say. “Your distribution ceremony is about to start, right?”

“Yeah. Maybe she is already waiting in the hall.” She places a soft kiss on your cheek. “See you later, tiger!”

Removing the mortarboard, you hug Jisoo tight and share your goodbyes when she leaves with her boyfriend and family to celebrate her graduation. You search in the crowd for any trace of Jungkook. He was supposed to be present during your graduation ceremony because your parents invited him but you couldn’t find a single trace of him.

Your heart aches in your ribs when the realisation hits you that maybe Jungkook did not want to be a part of it, maybe you are moving forward too fast. You were worried about the progression of your relationship to the point that you’d ignore his advances even when your core throbbed for his attention. Shaking your head, you try to get rid of sinister thoughts clouding your mind.

“Congratulations!” a soft voice acknowledges from the back, making your heels spin in its direction. Your jaw drops as you glare at the devil. Jimin smiles at you, pretending to be innocent yet the undertone of his quirked lips says otherwise.

“What are you doing here?” You spit. Your venomous tone makes him shudder, making you clench your first, drawing crescents in your palm.

“That’s not how you thank someone.”

You take a step forward and glare at him. “After what you did? Jimin, get the fuck out of my face.”

You try to walk away only to be pulled back by his strong arm. His fist holds your wrist hostage as he peeks back at you. You know this look, it’s the same as how he looked at you when he first told you that he loved you. You fell for it back then but all it makes you feel right now is the want to pull your arm back and punch him in the face.

“I need to talk to you. I need to apologise. I know that no excuse can cover my actions. I was drunk and needy. I didn’t think twice. I hated myself when I woke up the next day. I regret it so fucking much!” he chokes. “But we broke up months ago. Why does it bother you so much? Unless, you-”

Taken aback, you fume with newfound anger. “Why does it bother me? She’s my best friend, for fuck’s sake!” Or was. You snatch your wrist out of his grip and take a step backwards.

He searches for something in your eyes. Was it hope? If yes, then what for? Just as he is about to say something, your parents interrupt him. “Ah Jimin-ah, here you are! You left us alone among other boring parents.”

You glare at him, signalling him to leave. Whether he comprehends your actions or not, he chooses to ignore them and bow towards your parents, pretending everything is fine between you. Your parents hesitantly join him on either side, wondering why on earth do you have your ex with you rather than your current beau.

You wonder why, too.

Your father, being the polite man that he is, exchanges his pleasantries with Jimin – talking about the weather, politics, and what not – all the while Jimin keeps stealing glances at you making you want to punch him in the face.

Your mother, taking advantage of their occupied state, pulls you by your elbow and whispers in your ear, “where is your boyfriend?”

You want to correct her for using the term ‘boyfriend’ because you barely think your relationship has progressed all that much, but you bite your tongue, not wanting to create a bigger mess. Instead, you choose to simply answer her question, “I don’t know. I tried calling him earlier, but his phone is switched off, apparently.”

“My goodness! I hope he’s okay,” anxiously, she pulls you closer; as if you’ll vanish if she doesn’t hold tighter. Her motherly instinct is clearly kicking in as if she knows something is wrong. She has the same suspicions when she visited during Christmas. “You haven’t eaten anything since morning, you must be starving. Let’s go someplace to eat, and you text him the address. He’ll come eventually if everything’s alright with him.”

Your gut starts rumbling, making you clutch it tighter. You don’t know whether it’s purely from hunger – now that food has been mentioned, your stomach wants it, or it’s from worrying about Jungkook. You hope he is okay. Or maybe you are just overthinking. He should be fine.

When your mother tells the party about your dinner plans, Jimin jumps in uninvited to accompany – or rather sponsor the dinner celebration. You accidentally (not), step on Jimin’s expensive leather shoe, making him flinch and grunt in pain. To your dismay, it does not deter him to annoy you till the end.

“I’ll meet you at the restaurant, I’ll first have to check in a hotel, drop my suitcase, and make some phone calls,” he explains. You hadn’t noticed a small black suitcase standing beside Jimin. He had come prepared; you don’t know for what reasons. And you plan on being ignorant as long as he stays away.

Unbeknown to you, Jimin turns around the corner of your university’s perimeters – his suitcase rolling after him – when veiny hand carrying pepper spray sprits it all over his face, straining his eyes. In the isolated corner, rather less visited by the attendants, Jimin gets dragged as he tries to struggle and scream in agony. But it goes in vain when the thick muscular arm of the perpetrator creates a hindrance, making Jimin’s voice drown in his palm.

“It’s your day sweetheart,” your father nudges you. “Where do you want to eat?”

You look around the campus, one last sweep hoping to spot your doe-eyed boyfriend amidst the huge crowd dispersing in every direction possible. Defeated, you nod your head.

“Italian sounds good. Let’s go to Jangseng Geongangwon.” You want to hurt Jimin’s pocket, if not his feelings the way he hurt yours. You look at your hopeful parents, they wait for the cab innocently. No matter how badly you want to avoid Jimin, you can’t bring yourself to explain to your parents what actually happened, it’ll ruin the day. So, you suck it up.

Reaching the destination after a small cab ride, you sigh in relief. Your stomach had been grumbling all day due to nervousness and hunger. Your mother pays the cab driver and while you wait outside, arm clamped around your father’s.

“Don’t you think this place is a bit upscale?”

“It is upscale,” you shrug. “But Jimin can afford it. He wanted to treat us, here we are.” Hearing you say it so simply makes him chuckle. Your mother joins the party and you enter the restaurant cum bar.

The interiors are mostly wooden with a dim-lit setting. There is a long bar adorned with every variety of alcohol imaginable. The oak brown bar stools welcome you like an old friend. You gesture at the bar, nodding in your parents’ direction while they make a beeline for the restroom. Just old people things – the need to use a restroom every now and then in short intervals.

You had sent a text to Jungkook when you had reached along with your live location, so it’ll be easier for him to find you when he is free from whatever was holding him occupied. You don’t want to overthink but alarming thoughts enter your mind, trying to take your collective sanity away.

What if he doesn’t want to see you anymore?

What if he met someone else?

What if something serious happened to his mother?

What if something serious happened to him?

You gulp hard, thinking about the last possibility. He better be safe. The word “safe” reminds you of the past few months. Safety has been your top priority but you had mostly failed to meet it. Your mind wanders to the letters, the texts, the pillow, the dead rat. And you wonder who could’ve been so cruel to want to hurt you like that.

And if wanting to hurt you was the purpose, why have they stopped suddenly?

You haven’t received any form of communication from EAP, or whoever that is. You should be happy about it, a huge burden of protecting yourself from the unknown has been lifted.

But it still feels like it’s not over, as if it’s the calm before the storm.

You had ordered a gin martini and your parents were busy munching on Spiedini - delicious meat and onion kebabs. You had ordered Italian Meatballs, the impeccable cure to your hunger, and its taste did not leave you disappointed. Eating a proper meal while enjoying a cocktail at a bar wasn’t the conventional way to do it, but when have you ever wanted to approach life conventionally?

Jimin hadn’t arrived yet, making your parents come up with an explanation. He’s your ex and he would probably not want to be in the same room as your current love interest, right? They try calling him nonetheless, just confirming whether he reached his hotel safely but he doesn’t answer, making them worry. You couldn’t care less about him, he has a habit of vanishing and appearing back without any warning. That’s just classic Jimin.

Boredom hits you soon along with the stimulus of the third drink you had that evening. It’s difficult for you to understand what the bartender is saying to you. Or is he even talking to you? Drinking on an empty stomach is never a bright idea, so is mixing different kinds of alcohol all at once. You probably shouldn’t have done that. But we all have our vices, don’t we?

You took out your phone to drunk text Jungkook, asking for explanations even. But you stop in your track when you see a voicemail sent by Wendy. Squinting your eyes, you try taking a clearer view of the timestamp and notice that it was sent in the morning after you had left your shared apartment. Had you been sober, you would have ignored it because it makes you feel upset but you were drunk and bored and lonely.

You try to click on your screen, aiming it pointlessly, but your fingers shake and you end up clicking on another voicemail. It was an older one sent by a classmate of yours. Annoyed, you grumble and take another sip of your hard drink while the audio keeps playing over the background music in the restaurant.

Someone takes away the drink from your hold, making you form a pout and grumble harder. “No fair!”

“That’s enough for today, ____.”

Your head spins in the deep voice’s direction faster than Barry Allen jumps from one timeline to the other. His doe eyes burn holes into yours, his furrowed brows look worried and a selfish part of you enjoys the fact that he cares about your wellbeing. His muscular arm puts the drink on the bar’s table. You hear your father say something followed by your mother but perhaps due to the plastered state of your mind, or maybe the presence of Jungkook in his black shirt pulled up to his elbow makes everything feel like white noise.

“Why are you here?” you ask stupidly, covering your mouth quickly to take back what you just said. He takes a step closer, making heat rise in your body. Is it the alcohol or is it his presence, or both?

“You texted me the address, remember?”

“Oh,” you lower your head in anticipation. “Where were you all day?”

“I had an emergency.” You look up at him, finding him starching the nape of his neck nervously. “My mum had an episode, I had to rush her to the hospital.”

“My goodness, how is she now?” Your mother beats you to it. “What did the doctor say?”

“She’ll be fine, it was a post-trauma response. She keeps having them sometimes, it used to be no big deal but this particular one was intense.” She holds his hand in hers. Maybe she knew his mother before she was met with this unfortunate fate. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t come to your graduation. I want to make it up to you.” He gets on his knees and puts his unoccupied hand in your lap, looking up at you expectantly.

“Please don’t apologize, Jungkook. You did what you had to do.” You slur, forming the words slowly. You regret drinking so much. You wouldn’t have if you knew Jungkook will find you. “I just hope she gets better.”

You notice how tired and worn out he looks when you get a closer peek at his face. He looks just as handsome, if not more but there’s an aura to his demeanour that seems like today’s chaos aged him a little. You take his face in your hands and place a soft kiss on his forehead, making your father roll his eyes. You can just feel your parents’ awkwardness when they get up.

You give them your apartment keys for retiring and after many sincere apologies and requests by Jungkook your father allows him to take you for a long drive, as a post-graduation celebration. The fun time never seems to end, you feel like a kid at a candy story – Jungkook being that giant rainbow-flavoured lollipop that every kid wants but only you can taste.

“This your car?” you inspect the Cadillac from afar, surprised that he could afford it. You obviously can’t, you don’t even own a second-hand car, forget about a new one. Besides, you had to pay for the drinks and food at the restaurant since Jimin didn’t come at all, and you couldn’t put the burden on your parents.  It hurt your bank account like hell, and you probably wouldn’t be going shopping this month as collateral damage. Maybe if you work extra shifts at the bar, you’d be able to compensate.

“Nah, I stole it.” He smirks.

“Wait, are you serious?” you stare at him, stunned.

“Just kidding,” his sinister smile widens, making your spine tremble. “Now, get in! We have a long way to go.”

“Where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see.”

Whatever suspicions you had about Jimin is sizzling down because the Jimin you know will and can never do something like this. It has got to be someone else. Besides, how can he be pulling the strings from The States? He had to leave the very next day of your encounter and the last you heard; he hasn’t come back.

“Shit!” The call goes to voicemail as you try ringing her for God knows how many times. It has also been weeks since she left your shared apartment the very next day of her breakup with limited belongings of hers. She hasn’t returned your calls or texts and you can’t help but blame yourself for whatever has happened to Wendy. She was there for you every single day during your breakup, she was the pillar you could hold onto when hell breaks loose. But now that she’s going through so much pain and agony, you are not there for her. Or is it that she doesn’t want you to be there for her anymore?

You feel sick to your stomach realising that Christmas is coming soon and Wendy might not attend it with you and your family, which has been a tradition for many years. She never liked spending Christmas in her family’s huge mansion, with her parents and their poker faces, in parties where only people liked boasting their wealth and making small conversations about which Caviar is better. She said that spending holidays with your family felt like home, it gave her the family she never thought she could have.

You feel a pair of hands encircle around your waist, warm breath fanning over your neck. “Did she pick up?”

You turn around in Jungkook’s embrace to face him. It amazes you how he manages to look so good even when his brows are furrowed, and he has a hint of worry on his face. You stand on your tiptoes and wrap your arms around his neck, ruffling the hair on his nape. “No, she didn’t.”

He leans his head closer to you and gives you a sad smile. “She’ll come around eventually, it’s best to give her some space for now, yeah?”

“I guess…” You look down guiltily, worrying about how Wendy must be when Jungkook tilts your chin towards him using his pointer finger and whispers, “do you want to dance?”

Your eyes light up at his proposal and you nod your head. He turns around to connect his phone with the Bluetooth speakers and plays a lively jazz record. He comes back to hold you by your waist and suddenly hoists you in the air, leaving you giggling like a child. He twists you around like a ballerina making you stumble a little. He starts laughing and you playfully smack his arm in retaliation. “Jungkook, you dance like an amateur.”

“Is that so? Would you be so kind to teach me the art of dancing, my dear?” He cups your cheeks and plants a small kiss on the tip of your nose, making you blush.

“Sure! Now, watch and learn.” You spread your hands in the air and start jiggling your body. Prodding around in the room while jumping like a kangaroo you keep rocking your head, making your hair bounce. Jungkook smiles like an idiot, his eyes trained on you as he joins you to make similar moves. You open your eyes and find him dancing, making you both laugh. He makes you forget about all the worries in life and the only person you can think of is him, and only him.

“What are your plans for Christmas?” you ask between the beats.

“Huh?”

You repeat the question, except this time it’s much louder. He stops moving and looks at you. “Nothing, really. You?”

“How about we spend it together?” You motion towards the flat, “in here.”

“But you said you’re going to your hometown for the holidays.” He takes a step ahead.

“Change of plans, I want to be with you. Or you can accompany me to my parents’ place?”

He rolls his eyes and steps right in front of you, taking your soft hand in his big ones. “We’ve been to how many?” Looking up at the ceiling he squints his eyes, “three dates and you already want me to meet your parents?”

“Only if you are comfortable.” You shrug. “Although, I’d rather spend it here, just you and I.” You can’t face your parents without Wendy, especially if they get to know that she has detached herself from you.

“It’s a done deal then,” he says as he pecks your lips softly.

⤚ ✵ ⤙

“Mashed potatoes are over the counter, Kook,” you nodded in the kitchen’s direction. Setting up the table without your mother was more difficult than you had anticipated, however, Jungkook came early for your rescue and baked the most delicious looking stuffed chicken you had ever seen. And gaping at his muscles flexing while he worked was just cherry on top.

“Here, looks delicious.” He starts arranging the crockery when you hear the doorbell ring, making your heartbeat fast. It’s a reaction your body has been giving from the trauma caused by your stalker, which you hide well from Jungkook, not wanting to worry him.

“It’s just mashed potatoes, how delicious can it get?” you scurry to get the door. But he stops you midway, somehow sensing your anxiety. “I’ll get it, you just relax here. You’ve done enough work for today.”

How and when did you get so lucky?

You watch him open the door, seeing his expression shift to that of confusion. Worriedly, you ask, “Who is it?”

“Who is it?” a woman steps inside, carrying two giant bags in either of her hands, followed by a man. “It’s your mother, who you, just so you know, forgot to invite to your…” she points at the small and rounded dinner table, “little Christmas gathering.”

“Mum, papa, what- what are you doing here?” you gasp.

Your father takes off his shoes and flaps his arms in the air, “surprise! We got food for you.”

You look at an awkward Jungkook standing by the door and then at your parents back and forth. This isn’t what you expected when you heard the doorbell ring, and you are not sure whether this outcome is better or the one you expected is.

“Stop standing there like a deer in headlights, I’m starving!” your mother walks hurriedly and starts setting the table with the food she had brought. “You dining table is so small, how can we ever fit all the food and eat here, ____?” She asks and her eyes land on Jungkook, making them widen. “And who is this young man? Is he your boyfriend?”

You scratch your ear out of nervousness and nod, “Yes, this is Jungkook… My boyfriend.” You try looking anywhere but at your parents. “Jungkook, this is my mum, and this is my dad.” Jungkook quickly bows his head and greets them, making a satisfied grin appear on her face, but it seems she wants to tease you more.

“And you didn’t care to tell us the reason for cancelling our family dinner, why?” she playfully glares at you, you not realising that she’s not serious. “You know, we would’ve been completely fine if you brought him too. How can you be like this?”

“l-” You are unable to form words when your father comes for your rescue. “Hush, now. You don’t have to pull her leg. ____, it smells pretty good here let’s not wait, the food might get cold. So, Jungkook is it? Let’s get to know each other son.”

After all, you ended up settling in the living room because the centre table you had was comparatively big enough to fit all the food. Sitting on the carpeted floor, you passed everybody apple pie for dessert – Jungkook sitting beside you, and your parents at the sofa, while they got to know each other better. Lucky for you, your parents seem to like him, you’re not sure but he did make them laugh multiple times.

“You know, I feel like I have seen you before…” your father suggests. Before he can continue, you interrupt. “Oh, yeah, he used to be a part-time model.”

Your father gapes at you, perplexed. “That’s not what I meant. I’ve seen you in town, I couldn’t figure it out before but now I feel like I remember. You are Mrs Jeon’s son, right? Your family used to live by the river, I suppose.”

“Ah, yes,” Jungkook gulps. “I-I am her son.”

“See, ____ I was right.” Your father looks proud of his memory. You, on the other hand, are completely blown away by this revelation. Just thinking about growing up in the same town as Jungkook gives you chills. How did you two live so close yet meet so late? “How is your mother doing now? Last I heard about her she was in a coma,” interrupts your oh-so insensitive mother while you watch them exchange new information with a dazed face.

“Umm,” he licks his lips uncomfortably, “she is still in a coma, the doctors say that there might not be any going back.” Your heart sinks and you clutch his hand in yours. To think the same Jungkook who makes you feel all the happiness in the world; the one that rescues you all the time have struggled so painfully in his life. You feel like hugging him so tight till your hug removes all agony from him. You look at his aching expression making him look back at you nervously.

They carry on their conversation about Jungkook’s family, your parents quite insistent on knowing every single bit of his personal life. You soon come to know that Jungkook had a difficult life growing up, born in a family of three, him, his mother, and his alcoholic father. His father was out of the picture by the time he turned nine years old. His mother started teaching at a pre-school to make ends meet. Due to the trauma of being abandoned, with time his mother lost her mind as she succumbed to the influence of drugs and alcohol. Her physical health deteriorated too, first taking paralyzing her legs and then moving upwards to the rest of her body.

You really do want to take away Jungkook’s aching but there’s one thing bugging you that you cannot get off your chest. It would have been more intimate if he opened up like this when only the two of you were present and not in the company of your parents. Now that you think of it, he has never been this open about his personal life before and you didn’t want to pressurise him either. You don’t know whether you should thank your parents or reprimand them for being nosy.

“Where is Wendy?” your mother interrupts your train of thoughts, breaking you out of your reverie.

“She has gone to her parents’ place for the holidays,” you lie easily. You don’t want to tell them the truth, it’ll only make it difficult. They’ll probably ask you to ring her or her parents even. They might even forget about Christmas and search for her in every nook and cranny of Seoul.

“That’s surprising, I thought she liked spending Christmas with us,” your father muttered with a pout. Sometimes you think they love her more than they love you. You might as well love her more than you love yourself. “Did you two have a fight?”

Your eyes widen and you quickly shake your head. You glance at Jungkook in an attempt to have him cover you, but you find him devouring the rest of the dessert items with utmost interest, making you internally groan. “No, we didn’t have a fight, why would you even think that?” Huffing, you continue, “she broke up with Hoseok, actually. Maybe she needs some time away from people, I guess.”

Speaking of the devil, your phone starts ringing, and you find Wendy’s smiling face flashing on the screen. You excuse yourself, catching Jungkook off guard and press the pick-up button. Sliding the shutter open, you get embraced by the cold wind on the terrace.

“Hello?” you squeaked as it got colder by the second, making you pull your jacket’s hood on your head.

“Hey…” A male voice fills your ears. Your subconscious mind immediately recognises the voice, but it takes time for it to reach your conscious mind as it’s near to impossible to hear his voice through Wendy’s phone. Jimin’s low baritone rings through your brain, making you shiver. Various possible scenarios play in your head, your anxiety getting the best of you. “I’m fucking drunk… And I missed you.”

“Jimin, why do you have Wendy’s phone with you?” You ask in a clipped toned. “Where is she?”

The line stays silent for a few seconds, you imagine him contemplating his answer. “She… She… Where is she?” He chuckles lowly, making you gulp air into your lungs with uncertainty.

“Stop fucking around and tell me where she is!” You press. You get no response in return, only the sound of someone shuffling. You hear him whispering something away from the phone.

“Umm… Hello?” Hearing that familiar honey-like voice makes you release the breath you didn’t know you were holding. “____?”

“Yes, yes, it’s me, ____. Are you alright Wendy? Where are you? Let me come and pick you up, yeah?”

You only hear the sound of giggling from the other side, making your frustration increase. “Wendy, are you there?”

“Yeeeaaahhhh, I’m there!” she beamed with unmatched enthusiasm. “But you can’t pick… me up…” she giggles more. “I’m because, in America. This… is America. Don’t catch you slipping now… look what I’m whipping now. Whoop whoop.”

“Oh, okay.” You feel your heart constrict. The thought of Wendy finding comfort in your ex-boyfriend rather than her best friend devastates you. You never realised that they were even close to each other. The only reason why Wendy got to know him was that you had started dating him, they were never that intimate. “A goodbye note would’ve been helpful. I was worried about you, even called you many times. Are you mad at me?” You know she is drunk and cannot even form comprehensible sentences to be able to answer these questions, but you also know she’s the most honest when she is drunk, so you shoot your shot.

“I’m not mad at you.” Somehow, she sounds sober now, yet the intoxicated vibrato in her voice tells you otherwise. “It’s just that… you suffocate me. So, I left. If I had told ya… you would chase me…”

You suffocate me.

Your heart shatters in million pieces but you don’t let that falter your calm façade. “In what way do I suffocate you?”

“You- I- I didn’t… I don’t know…”

“Wen, I can’t make amends if you’re not honest with me.” You pace back and forth, the winter cold contrasting the heat of your burning heart. “How do I suffocate you?”

She takes a deep breath and grunts lowly. “Just by existing, I guess”

“What? So, my existence is bothersome to you?” You don’t hold back anymore as you fume in frustration. You look back to the living room, checking up on Jungkook and your parents. You father seems to have found solace in playing cards with the rest of the party, you reckon that he is the one who must’ve come up with the idea of playing cards after dinner. Your mother, being the competitive lady that she is, seems to have accepted the challenge – now engrossed in the cards she’s holding between her manicured fingers.

Jungkook, on the other hand, though enjoying his time with them and smiling every now and then, keeps stealing glances in your direction. You nod assuredly when his eyes lock with yours, making his eyes crinkle as he grins in relief. You turn around to hide your face from them as you await Wendy’s response even though you are sure it’s no good.

After a long pause, you hear more shuffling, making you think she handed over the phone back to Jimin marking the end of your long-standing friendship. But you are proven wrong when she inhales deeply and goes on, “It’s not that! Your existence is everything to me! It’s more important to anyone’s existence!”

“Then why did you say that I suffocate you? Have I done anything to hurt you?”

“No! Never! You… You are like a warm blanket. Like a Christmas morning. Y-you make me feel things I’ve never felt before. You scoop me up in a sushi roll and pour wasabi all over me. You make me melt and burn all at the same time. I love you so fucking much that it hurts me. And I hate it. So, I left.”

You’re not sure what she means by her contradictory confession, nonetheless, you want to understand better. “I’m so sorry Wen I hurt you, it was never my intention to. You know, I love you too. You’re the bes-”

“No, you don’t! You don’t love me…” She sniffles. “You don’t.”

“Wen, yes I do. I’d do anything for you, you are my best friend,” pool of tears starts forming in your eyes, yet you try to speak calmly.

“Is that all? Will I always be just a best friend to you?”

“No Wen, you-”

“I know what’s next. I’m like a sister to you, right? That’s the last thing I want to hear because when I said I love you I meant more than just friends. I am deeply and madly in love with you, ____. And I know you don’t feel the same for me. I’ve been trying to not let that affect our friendship, but I’ve had enough now. If I can’t have you the way I want you then I don’t know what will become of me.”

The line goes silent. You stand near the railing with your eyes wide open, your phone’s screen turning dark in your trembling arms. The first tear slips down your cheek and onto the ground ever so slowly, turning your world upside down. This can’t be happening right now.

⤚ ✵ ⤙

“I’m nervous, actually...” Jungkook fumbles through his coat pocket and hands you a tiny box enclosed in a red wrapping paper adorned with tiny elves on it. You chuckle lightly on noticing his creativity and efforts, making his doe eyes dart right back at you which were previously resting on the gift he just gave you.

“This is so cute,” you beam as you start unwrapping the present. “Just like you.”

“Oh, come on! Not when you’re in the room.”

“Huh?”

“You’re cuter,” he breathes. “And I like you very much.”

What started as small smile breaks into a full-blown laugh, making your eyes crinkle and your face thrown back. “Well, I like you too. A lot.” He tilts his own head as he admires you. He runs his thumb through your cheeks as he cups your face. It’s the way he looks at you so sincerely that makes your heart melt in a puddle.

Wendy’s words kept ringing in your ears like venom stung in your skin, coursing through your body, you never thought your friendship will come to a situation like this. The change in her sexuality was news to you, or rather it always existed but you failed to become aware of it. Knowing that her parents are the textbook definition of homophobia it doesn’t take long for you to realise why she must have kept it a secret.

You wanted to tell her before she cut the call that it’s okay to feel that way about someone. We don’t get to decide who we have feelings for, the human heart can be quite notorious. Do you feel the same way about her? Absolutely not. Would you let that affect your bond with her? Never. If this was her coming out to you then you want to make a cake for her with “I’m fucking proud of you,” written on it with colourful icing, even though the other part of her confession might remain unrequited. When you came out to your parents in your first year of college as a Pansexual, they made a cake for you and wrote the same greeting, albeit the “fucking” part.

No matter what your sexuality is, Wendy is like family to you. You regard her in the purest form you could imagine. She is like the sister you never thought you could have but you ended up having, nonetheless. It’s difficult to make her understand this, though you can only try a little harder next time.

Jungkook had found you in the balcony sniffling tears and when you tried hiding it from him, he simply hugged you – no questions asked. You wonder how he knew that you did not want to talk about it, you just wanted warmth. You just wanted that sense of protection at that moment, assuring you that everything is going to be alright. This year might have not been your best, but it will become better. He ran his fingers in your hair as you relaxed under his warm embrace. He felt like home.

You quickly look away while grinning ear to ear as you resume unwrapping the gift. It holds a rose gold necklace with tiny flowers hanging from it. You remember wanting to order it online, but it was expensive, so you decided to put it on your wish list and started saving up.

“Wow, you remembered?” your breath hitchhikes. “Jungkook you honestly didn’t have to.”

“Anything for you, ____.”

The necklace shines under the moonlight making your heart shine a little too.

“Let me,” he takes the necklace from your hand and tenderly turns you around. You pull your hair in a makeshift ponytail as he wraps it around your neck. “You look so beautiful.”

He places a tender kiss where your shoulders and neck meet and starts working from there, making your release a low moan. He stops the moment he hears you. Hovering over you, his breath sends tingles down your spine, and you feel like you might come undone any second. You grab his shirt to make him resume his ministrations, making him smirk against your neck. He groans against your collarbone as you grind your back against him ever so slowly. Just when he’s about to flip you to face him, you interject. “I got you something too!”

Leaving the balcony all while your heart pounds hard and you feel like you’ve been electrocuted, you grab the present you’ve got for Jungkook and run back to the balcony where he waits for you patiently. You nudge the big box towards him making his doe eyes widen in surprise. “It’s so big!”

“Eh, it’s nothing really,” you shrug.

Peeling off the wrapping paper, he gasps as he takes in the big box of his favourite upcoming video game. “And how did you know I wanted this?”

“Well, you told me about it.”

“Ah.” He engulfs you in a warm hug, with the video game between your tummies.

“You are treading on thin Ice, ____. You might as well make me fall.”

You run your cold hand over his back, “By all means, go ahead.”

All you hear is a teasing chuckle from his mouth as a part of you slips beautifully yet excruciatingly in his palms.

⤚ ✵ ⤙

“I’m sorry, really,” she confesses, running her fingers through her hair in an exasperated effort to calm her mind. “Let’s just forget about what I said, start over and get some drinks. Many Tequila shots, actually.”

“Absolutely not. First, you take a seat. And second, you listen to me because for many days you are the only one who has been talking,” your eyes narrow into slits at Wendy who showed up at your doorstep out of nowhere. “I. Get. To. Talk. Now. Got it?”

Sighing, she drops her luggage, pulls a bar stool by the kitchen counter and makes herself comfortable. “Okay.”

“First of all, you didn’t even tell me, your best friend, that you broke up with Hoseok. You came home plastered as fuck and that’s how I get to know that that happened? That is unacceptable! You broke our code.”

She shifts uncomfortably in her seat, “if it makes you feel any better, we broke up because I not-so-subtly confessed to him that I have feelings for you.”

Furrowing your brows, you enquire. “And how does that make me feel better?”

“You told me to fill you in on the whole breakup thing.”

“Okay go on.”

She does her job of filling in the blanks of the happenings in the past few weeks. Hoseok told her that he was planning on proposing to her this year after her revelation. Let’s just say things could have become dirty had he not been an angel. But she did get dumped on that day and chugged in bottles of alcohol to numb the pain away.

She woke up the next day finding you by her side after you had tugged her into bed. It made her feel disgusted with herself, so she booked an early flight to escape to the USA. She had planned on staying with her cousin Seokjin and his boyfriend Taehyung for a while. But for some reason, she ended up contacting Jimin and stayed with him. They went to a club on Christmas and got intoxicated which resulted in drunk dialling and cumbersome confessions.

There was another pressing matter that you wanted to ask her about, but you’re not able to recall what it was. It had something to do with that night she came home drunk. “I’m sorry Wen, I don’t remember what it was. I do want you to know that though I might not be able to feel the same way as you do for me, you are extremely important to me. And you deserve to be in a relationship with someone who wants you with a love so unconditional and pure that even the greatest romance classics of all time will shy away in defeat.”

“Why thank you, Shakespeare.” She giggles.

“Wait, I have to show you something,” you shuffle towards your room and bring out a hat box containing all the things EAP has sent you so far, including the recent letter, calling you theirs. “This was the last letter I received from this Edgar guy or girl, whatever. And this will shock you.” You shove the small parchment paper in her face.

Creasing her eyebrows, she reads it out loud. “What’s wrong with this dude? I just know it’s a dude. Men have no morals.”

You nudge your head frantically towards the parchment in her hand, “Focus on the ‘IF YOU EVER DARE TO WHORE AROUND WITH OTHERS, GOD FORBID, A FUCKING WOMAN, THERE WILL BE SEVERE CONSEQUENCES.’ He knew about you. Have you ever told this to anybody before? Maybe it’s that particular person. Though, I’m not sure whether I should indulge in this anymore as I’ve stopped receiving anything from him.”

She rereads the letter and screeches, “What the hell? How did he- how is this possible?”

“You tell me.”

“I did tell Hoseok that day, but I definitely don’t think it’s him. The timing doesn’t match and he’s an angel. I also told Jimin, but it was in America, that too after this letter was sent to you.”

You pace back and forth in the kitchen, your index finger tapping on your bottom lip, thinking hard. “I used to think it was Jimin, but I don’t know anymore.”

You turn around swiftly only to find Wendy looking at you guiltily. Your instincts kick in making you gasp for air. “Was that you?”

You wave your hand in front of her face, breaking her trance. “Me? No!” she defends. “Speaking of Jimin, there’s something else I wanted to confess.”

“What is it?”