You picked blankly at your cuticles, where the skin was starting to look red and irritated, but it didn’t seem to faze you. You were utterly focused on the simple wall clock that hung innocently against the ivory walls of the living room, as if it wasn’t informing you that he was two hours late from when he usually came home. Removing your attention from your fingertips, you settled with fidgeting around with the white gold ring that banded your fourth finger, twisting its shiny material back and forth against your skin. You wondered, definitely not for the first time, what had made you stupid enough to commit yourself to this marriage. The long hours of waiting at midnight, or his constant, irrelevant excuses? Yes, you loved him, very dearly in fact, but the silence and lifelessness in the house was slowly creeping up on you, messing with your mind. You had become the only occupant of the small house you shared with him that was meant for two.

You lifted your gaze that you didn’t realize had dropped into your lap at a scratching sound against the wooden front door. It opened slowly, revealing an exhausted Jimin in the frame, the moonlight leaking in accentuating the fatigue in his eyes and posture.  A strong scent drifted toward you with his entrance, but instead of the fresh laundry fragrance that he usually carried, it was the stench of alcohol. He staggered into the room, holding on to the walls for support. It was obvious that he had been drinking more than his fair share. As he closed the distance between you guys, your eyes zeroed in on something else you didn’t expect besides the wafts of alcohol that were now radiating off of him in a nauseating intensity. It sat on the edge of his collar, its crimson hue and vibrancy an obvious contrast against the white of Jimin’s shirt. 

A lipstick stain.

His eyes widened at your presence, as if he did not expect you to be sitting here, showered by the soft glow of starlight from the windows, although you’ve been doing the exact same thing for the past few weeks. Quite frankly, when you married him, you didn’t think that was what you’d be doing either.

“Why are you still up?” He glanced at his watch, and commented nonchalantly as if you weren’t already aware, “It’s 3:00 in the morning.”

But your attention was completely drawn to the mark on his collar, as if taunting at your dysfunctional marriage. “What the hell is that?”

Jimin glanced down the stain on his shirt, realizing for the first time that it was there as the effects of alcohol began to wear off. “.”

“Park Jimin...is that a lipstick print?”

He didn’t reply, but simply hung his head low in shame when he finally registered the seriousness and harm of the sin he had committed.

“Are you cheating on me?” You asked, voice trembling with fear.

“Listen, Y/N, I can explain.” He stepped closer to you, and lingering notes of perfume, the scent of another woman, drifted to your nostrils, forcing bile up your throat. Stretching his hand out to comfort you, he was disheartened as you recoiled further into the corner of the couch.

“Don’t touch me.”

He withdrew his hand, and being frustrated more with his own stupidity than your unwillingness to hear him out, he combed his fingers through his hair. “I’m so sorry... It seemed like a good idea then, under the influence of the couple shots I downed. I don’t dare to beg for your forgiveness because I know I don’t deserve it.”

“Good, because you’re not getting it.” You snapped, the words coming out harsher than you had originally intended, although you couldn’t care less about the way you were coming off in the heat of the moment. “How long has this been going on?”

“It was just this one time, I swear.”

“I really would like to believe you right now.” Your face sunk into your hands, and tears began to flow, salty and wet in the center of your palm.

“Babe…”

“Is that what you call her too?”

Your words stung, and hurt temporarily flashed across his face, but it was then quickly replaced by a surprising outburst of fury.

“Why are you acting so immature? Just listen to me!”

You stood, keeping your glare on him the entire time. His rage took you unexpectedly, and feeling ridiculed, your own temper flared. “Don’t you ing dare talk to me like that! You come home hours after midnight every single day, and you don’t even acknowledge my existence! We fight more and more, and all you can do is apologize halfheartedly just to go through the emotions again.”

Jimin opened his mouth to speak, only to be cut of abruptly by your rising volume, “Now you have the nerve to stumble back home, extremely drunk, after you’ve slept with another woman? And here you are, explaining, apologizing, trying to get untangled from this mess you ing got into yourself. Is that all you can do, Park Jimin?! Can you only talk but take no action? Have with other women and come crying back to me, begging for forgiveness? That’s not what you promised me at the alter! That’s not what you said when you asked me to marry you! That’s not what you whispered in my ear, while embracing me, when I agreed despite all my family’s objections! You said you would take care of me! You vowed that you would cherish me and love me for the rest of my life until death splits us apart! Do you even remember that anymore? Or am I merely another of the many women you’ve laid, except you bought a ring for this one?”

Slap!

Your head whipped to the right sharply, cheek suddenly burning in the shape of his hand. Your own hand flew up to your skin, your cool fingers calming the red welt on your skin, but doing nothing for the fresh gash on your heart. Staring at him in disbelief, you watched him pull back and sank down onto the couch, eyes wide with bewilderment. Jimin eyed his hand, as if it was no longer a part of his body. Then he bursted into tears.

“You shouldn’t have fallen for me.” Sobs racked his shoulders, but you were too in shock to respond. “I told you. I told you the from the very beginning that I’d up. Yet I still asked you to commit to this relationship. God, I’m so stupid. It’s all my fault, I ed up, I’m so sorry.”

You simply watched silently as this all played out before you, watched his usual smug and cocky facade crumble into pieces, yet that was all you did; watch. “Yeah you did. You ed up big time.”

You unclenched your fists that had stiffly stayed at your sides, and reached your hands into a crook in the couch where you hid the letter you wrote to him. It was no longer of use to you. Next, you felt for the silver band around your ring finger, warm from adjusting to your body temperature, and slipped it off in one swift motion. You waved the two of them, but especially the letter, in front his face, wrist hurting from the harsh motions.

“I thought we had a chance! But I guess I was wrong. I knew it was coming.” Slamming both items that were of unimaginable importance to you at some point down on the coffee table before Jimin’s legs, the ring over the letter, you dropped your hands to your sides in a small sign of defeat. “I’m done. Let’s break up. Let’s divorce.”

You allowed your legs to carry you out of the house, not even bothering to gather your possessions from the place.

A few weeks later, a manila envelope arrived in the mail box, and Jimin picked it up. Sitting down on the floor amongst all the sprawled out paper boxes, he ripped open the package and stared at the heading for a while, just trying to register the reality of it all. “Final Decree of Divorce” it silently screamed, and the edges of the document were beginning to wrinkle from the sweat of his palms. Jimin finally looked up from the paper after a good ten minutes, scanning the room aimlessly. It suddenly felt larger, emptier, and more foreign.

After your departure that day, Jimin endured a lot of self-reflection. He went to all the placed the two of you went to, and redid all of the things you guys did before, as well as all the things you couldn’t. He hated himself for everything, the neglect, the cheating, and worst of all, the slap. Never in his life did he figure that he would turn out to be someone like this, but he guessed that just punishing him by tearing you out of his life was not enough. He didn’t dare to chase after you, for he knew better than anyone that you deserved so much more than him.

So picking up a stray pen lying on the dusty wooden floors, he scrawled messily where it told him to sign the document. You guys were officially divorced.

Exhaling slowly, he pushed himself up from his sitting position and picked up the box closest to him, labeled “Bedroom”. He walked out of the room without hesitation, but his heart wrenched with every step. Leaving the small house you guys had once shared, he also left behind any lingering hopes of getting you back.

-Almost One Year Later-

“One shot of Vodka.” The waitress slid the small, glass cup in Jimin’s direction, and strode away without a second glance to tend to other customers at the bustling bar, flipping her blonde locks over her shoulder.

Muttering a word of thanks, he examined the cup in between his fingers, the chill of the drink causing condensation to form outside the smooth surface. The drink, the cup, the atmosphere, and everything else was foreign to Jimin, although it would’ve felt just like home a little less than a year ago. Dancing bodies drew close to him, the ladies blowing kisses at the handsome young man who was sitting alone without a woman in his arms. Jimin ignored their flirtation, and continued to stare at the drink, swishing its contents in a whirlpool then watching it settle down. Without a second thought, he raised the shot up to his lips and tipped its contents into his mouth.

The alcohol seared his throat, making Jimin furrow his brows in pain. He had not touch a drop of alcohol in nearly a year, not since that fateful day. He just couldn’t bring himself to lose his senses again and do something else he’ll have to regret for the rest of his life. But today was different, special, for it would’ve been his first anniversary with him had you guys still been together. Jimin hadn’t intended to do anything in celebration of that, except maybe come home from work, mope around, and wonder what you’re doing, just going through the same routine that had dominated his life since your departure. Although, he didn’t know what got into him on his way back to his lonely apartment that had led him here; to the bar where he first laid eyes on you. Perhaps it was just because that’s what he would’ve done with you.

His second shot arrived shortly after he placed the first empty cup on the counter, then another, and another, and Jimin downed them all without hesitation. His thoughts were beginning to grow foggy, his head pounding with the same rhythm as the heavy bass of club. Wanting to do it before he was too unaware, he slipped his hands into his pockets and pulled out the letter, the paper soft and crumbled from reopening and closing it countless times, and your neat, cursive handwriting became smeared with sweat and tears, although he couldn’t tell which. He began reading your letter, in spite of the fact that he has gone through it so many times that each word was carved painfully into his heart.

By the time he got to the last sentence, his vision was blurry. “Because I’m still in love with you.” you wrote. It still got to him every time. He didn’t know what you had felt then, the pain, the frustration. Maybe if he did, things would be different, and you would be sitting with him right now, enjoying your own drink. Jimin had understood from the moment you left that he had made a grave mistake, one that he will never be able to compensate for. He also knew that he would not be able to get over you, no matter what he had done or assumed before. At least not in this lifetime.

A girl stumbled over to Jimin’s hovered figure, a drunken grin plastered across her lips against bright lipstick. She slid into the vacant stool besides him, bringing a pungent waft of alcohol to the seat, and ran her fingers up his arm seductively, her eyes glistening from the effects of the many drinks she must have had.

“Oppa,” she cooed, words slurring together, “Oppa, I’m lonely. Will you dance with me? Let me buy you a drink?” Scooting closer, she laid an elbow on his shoulder, batting her eyelashes at him lazily.

Jimin quickly moved out her way, shoving your letter that he spread on the counter before him into his pockets in haste, and shifted to the next chair over. “Sorry, I’m not interested.”

“But oppa, you’re not even with anyone. Come play with me,” she whined again, this time pulling at his hands towards the dance floor where dozens of sweaty bodies were swinging to the beat.

“Who said I wasn’t with anyone?” Jimin bluffed, then quickly looking around the bar for any girl who he could possibly frame as his date. His suitor straightened and crossed her arms in front of her chest, peering at him expectantly through narrowed eyes.

“Well? Then who is it?”

Jimin scanned the bar again, now nearly empty from the late hours and the intoxicating music drawing people to the dance floor. He didn’t realize he had been sitting here for so long. He cursed under his breath as he failed to find someone who can help him out, until he spotted another figure on the very end of the counter where the strobe lights couldn’t reach, also alone and almost completely hidden in shadow. He couldn’t quite make out her features very clearly, but desperate to escape the pursuit of the girl, he stood up and moved to the unknown woman. Her back was to turned to him, and she let out a soft yelp of surprise as Jimin slipped his arm around her shoulders. Jimin wasn’t paying attention to her shocked expression or her unusual silence, but simply glared at the other girl who was standing a few feet away, an angry pout materializing on her face. After staring at Jimin and the stranger he had wrapped his arm around with skepticism and suspicion, she blew out a exhale of defeat and stormed back into the mass of bodies. In the blink of an eye, she was absorbed into the moving crowd and had disappeared.

Breathing out in relief, Jimin quickly dropped his arm from the stranger’s shoulders upon feeling her stiffen under his touch. He turned his gaze away from the people on the dance floor, and steered it towards the girl who had relieved him of his sticky situation. Opening his mouth to both apologize and thank the person, his words were abruptly choked in his throat as he looked at her.

Turns out, it wasn’t a stranger. It was worse, way worse, because it was you.

You were watching him through the entirety of his conversation with the other girl, staring at the back of his head which was facing you. You felt the warmth of his arm seep into your shoulders, a motion was so familiar to you before, but was now so strange and foreign. You couldn’t speak, for shock had blocked off both your vocal chords and some of your windpipe as breathing became more difficult. Now staring into Jimin’s eyes, you registered the surprise on his face, and saw the astonishment on your own through your reflection in his eyes. Taking a deep breath, and gathering up your courage, you spoke.

“Hello Jimin.”

He didn’t reply, but only gaped at you, mouth hanging slightly. Realizing that you had spoken a couple seconds after, he closed his mouth and swallowed.

“Uh...hi, Y/N.”

“What are you doing here?” you nodded your head at the bar, the place you first met at.

“Just...um...getting a drink. You?”

“Same.”

“Oh.”

“Had a little trouble back there?”

“Yeah.” he mumbled. An awkward silence ensued, and both of you looked away, as if you were scared to see your pasts replay in each other’s eyes. Jimin scratched his head awkwardly, and deciding that he better say something to break the tense atmosphere, he asked, “Haven’t seen you in a while. How have you been?”

“I’ve been good. You know, just the usual. I stopped working at that old law firm, and am now at this new magazine publishing company as an editor. So that’s pretty neat.” You rambled mindlessly, desperate for relevant things to say. Brushing your hair back from your face, clearly flustered by your sudden reunion, you wondered, “How about you? How are you holding up?”

At the sound of those words, Jimin’s brain had finally began to process the reality of this, and the alcohol he had consumed seemed to rush to his head all at once. He finally saw you after almost a whole year of silence, and he figured that he had to grasp this chance. He let the words flow out, not even getting a chance to filter his thoughts, as the past year and its misery flashed by his mind’s eye.

“I would really like to say that I’ve been doing well, but that would be lying. I feel like I’ve been a walking corpse; I have blood flowing through my veins, and all my vital organs are functioning properly, but it’s just that,” he pointed clumsily at his chest, his heart, “I’m empty here. And no one can fill this place up because it’s only reserved for you. I’m still not over you, Y/N. Look! I still have your ring.” He fetched out the necklace he was wearing from under his shirt, and your previous ring fell limply against his chest.

Dumbfounded at his sudden confession, all you could force out was “Jimin...I think you’ve had a little too much to drink.”

“No! I’m thinking straight right now! I’m okay…” He leaned violently towards the marble counter of the bar, tipping off balance on his feet, and you rushed to help him before he got hurt.

“Jimin, you’re drunk. Do you have anyone to take you home?”

His head that had hung low before was now lifted to look at you, catching you by surprise. He examined you for a moment, the worry in your voice bringing a lazy grin to his face.

“You’re so pretty, Y/N. Just like before. God, you haven’t changed a bit. You’re still just how I like you.” He brought a hand to your cheeks, brushing your skin with his warm finger. You tried to escape his touch, but he only brought you closer. And before you could protest, he had closed the distance between your faces, lips hovering just a couple centimeters above your own.

“Park Jimin! Stop! You’re drunk! You don’t know what you’re doing right now!” You pulled back, and pushed against his chest. But he was much stronger than you, and the alcohol didn’t seem to allow him to notice your complaints.

Jimin smiled wider, his eyes crinkling at the sides. “What are you talking about? I’m sober. So sober.” He leaned towards you again, lips puckered.

“No! Stop!” This time, you shoved against him with all your might, and he staggered away, eyes wide. Angrily, you waved your left hand up to his face, the other pointing repeatedly at your fourth finger. Jimin paused as his eyes focused difficulty on the shiny, clear stone that sat at the base of your finger, glistening brightly under the multiple lights of the club. He may be drunk, but he was thinking clearly enough to realize what that was. He removed his attention from your hand to look up at you, utterly stunned.

You scoffed at his reaction, and shook your hand in the air again. “Yeah. You see now? Just because you haven’t moved on doesn’t mean that I have to linger in the past with you. I have a new life now, Park Jimin. I’m married.”