xxi. "The End"

“he called me over because this needs to end,” she spoke, her voice shaky and terrified,”

Jungkook took a deep breath, his lungs expanding in a very uncomfortable way as he felt this inevitable pressure against his chest. He felt like there was something or someone sitting on him, not letting him take a breath comfortably and regularly.

He opened his eyes, he was not even aware of his surroundings until he decided to look around. He didn’t know why there was so much numbness inside of him, he felt nothing yet something at the same time. He didn’t know how to explain it, but he felt no happiness, no sadness and no anger, yet, he was feeling his stomach sinking and that pressure against his chest could not be ignored.

He looked up, noticing that he was in the bathroom. He looked at his reflection and automatically despised it. He was a joke, a simple child whaling and nothing more but a waste of space.

He saw the way his skin was beginning to crease around his eyes. He was half way to fifty and was already seeing his eyes beginning to show signs of wrinkles. He looked at his eyes and felt his entire world crashing down, he looked like him.

“Why?” He whispered, his voice echoing in the empty bathroom.

He was frustrated, he was beginning to feel the anger build up inside of him because no matter what he did, he will always see his father’s reflection. And he wanted nothing more than to stop seeing that cold heartless man in his reflection.

“,” he winced, cussing as his hand began to throb and ache.

He saw his right hand being submerged by water. The cold running water crashed against his skin and splashed all over the counter. It was washing away blood, it was hitting his skin faster than the blood could pool out, causing extreme pain against the open cuts.

He didn’t know what happened, where he was and why he was even there. He just knew that he was in the bathroom, running his hand under cold water as there was blood staining his bruised and cut knuckles.

He tried to recall what happened, how he got there and exactly what he did. But the more he thought about it, the more his brain begun to pulsate and create a head ache that only grew in intensity the more time went on.

He couldn’t remember what happened, he just knew one thing.

He needed to get out of there.

He took another deep breath, the pressure coming down on his chest still lingering. He looked up one last time and saw the exact same thing he always saw, a waste of space. He may have the visage of a walking bank, he was the son of one, but he still saw a sorry excuse of a man.

He was pathetic. He kept thinking about how stupid and worthless he was, he couldn’t even remember what happened and what he did to be this hurt. It was frustrating to not remember, and he hated himself so much for being so incompetent to not even remember his own actions.

“Think,” he spoke through his teeth, grunting as his hands gripped the sink.

He closed his eyes tightly, his hold on the counter tightening more and more as he clenched his jaw. He needed to remember, he needed to know, he wanted to know. Why was it so hard for him to even keep track of his own actions? Why was he so useless that he can’t even think?

The same thoughts, the same ideas kept pooling into his mind and no matter how hard he tried, how hard he was trying to force himself to remember, he couldn’t. And that made him more aggravated.

The clock kept on ticking, the world kept on revolving and he still remained there for a few more minutes. He didn’t even know what bathroom he was in, it was too normal for it to be a company bathroom, yet it wasn’t his.

It had a regular sink, it was of a pretty white marble. The curtains behind him that stared at him through the mirror were white and were tied at the middle with a simple black ribbon. There was a shower next to him, with a sheer glass door that slid open. He could confirm this was not his bathroom, he has never seen it in his entire life.

“Hurry up dude, I have to take a leak.” The sudden voice startled him, the loud and low bang against the door echoed in the bathroom as Jungkook looked at the door with confusion knitting his brow.

Junhong’s sarcastic voice eased into his ear, he was in Junhong’s bathroom. At least, he assumed it was, but how exactly did he end up there? At what point in his day did he come here? He wasn’t sure, he couldn’t remember anything, maybe Junhong knew. The possibility of the older being able to explain everything that happened was enough to build the courage to leave the small bathroom.

The moment he opened the door, Junhong rushed in, not even caring if he nearly knocked Jungkook backwards because the older only had one goal in his mind, the toilet.

Jungkook found his footing, his balance being distorted by Junhong’s rush. He closed the door behind him saw that he was in fact somewhere he has never been at before. He was in a small apartment, it was bright and casual. The color tinting the room was mostly white, it could be found in the curtains hanging in the living room windows and the countertops in the kitchen.

He didn’t know where he was, but he oddly felt comfortable. He wasn’t sure why he felt welcomed, like he himself lived here for a while and it was nothing new. It could be that he was simply at ease that he was in, what he finally assumed, Junhong’s apartment. Or it was simply due to that numb feeling returning, and he was trying to make sense out of the empty feeling. He still didn’t know how to handle the feeling, it came and went as it pleased, leaving nothing behind and taking everything away.

“Mr. Jeon, how is your hand?” Her voice startled him, it came out of no where and held a rather cold tone.

He looked at her, her presence looming in the hallway. She begun to walk towards the kitchen, her every step was gracious, almost as if she was scared to step too hard against the floor.

“What is going on?” He asked, not even knowing anything that lead to this.

He didn’t know why he was there, how he got there and why exactly was she doing there too. It was all a big question that seemed to grow more and more, and the bigger it grew, the harder it seemed to answer it.

She clenched her jaw, her eyes fell upon him as the black mask was no where to be seen. The only thing that hid her face was a matte charcoal colored paint that covered her eyes. The painting was smudged, it looked like after painting her eyes, she took three fingers and ran them down each cheek, like claw marks. It looked rather tribal, and it made her dark eyes more mysterious and piercing.

“Do you remember anything?” She asked, her voice low and simply stiff, it sounded like she was holding back an emotion she tried hard to conceal.

He simply shook his head, causing her to sigh. What happened next was that a painful silence enveloped them both. Silence was comforting for him, but silence has been his worst enemy in the past few days. It made his heart beat pulsate in his ear, his lungs became a little heavy as his breathing was hard to even control and nothing good ever followed this type of silence.

She sighed, pulling a notebook from under the counter and simply opened it and then, she looked at him as if what was inside that notebook affected him in a terrible way.

“Your father said something that set you off. You lashed out violently, knocked your desk over and tried hitting him. Junhong ran in on time, you ended up hitting your desk, multiple times, you ended up hitting Junhong trying to break free form his grasp and you knocked your fiancé down. Junhong brought you here, he called me over because this needs to end,” she spoke, her voice shaky and terrified, yet it was firm and he knew she was trying hard to sound confident and calm.

But she was not doing a good job. She looked at him with eyes glistering like polished marble. She gulped, her teeth biting onto the inside of her bottom lip and he knew she was having a hard time looking at him.

“End what?” He asked, not even thinking about what she said.

For the first time in his life, he didn’t have a hard time believing what someone told him. He always detested being told that he did something or even said something when he couldn’t remember any of it happening. But the way she spoke, the way she looked at him, it was like a needle puncturing his skin little by little.

He couldn’t deny that it could be true. He couldn’t deny the idea that he would in fact lash out on his father, especially when the man has been setting off so much furry inside of him in the past few weeks. His knuckle was throbbing, and the bleeding was barely subduing, and he just knew, what happened was in fact correct.

And it struck a chord of fright inside of him. He assaulted his father, or tried to at least. Yet in the process, he ended up hurting Junhong, who sounded like he was not angry nor disappointed with him. Jungkook hoped he wasn’t.

But he hurt Yein, and that was the hardest part to digest. He nearly wanted to scream that he didn’t hurt her, that he wouldn’t be capable of doing so. He never wanted to hurt her, yet Cinderella said he did, and he could not handle the idea of it. It couldn’t be true.

“Your problem, how you live all caged up and became a walking time bomb all derives from one thing. I’ve been scared to even ask because if I am correct, you are going to hate me,” she spoke, her voice shaking and unstable, it even cracked at the word hate.

Jungkook felt his stomach sink, falling lower and lower that it was at his feet. She sounded so concerned and pained. She looked at him with eyes drowning in worry and it made him uneasy.

“Why would I hate you?” He asked, taking a step forward, it only caused her to gasp softly and pull away.

“Because it is what you do. Mr. Jeon, I offer a solution, in order to give you a solution you must tell me about your mother. What was her relationship with you?” She asked, her body taking another step away from him as she was simply waiting.

The questioned s into his mind and he didn’t know why it was even asked. His mother was never part of any of her questioning, not even his father, he was the one that would bring the man up. Why did she need to know about his mother? There is nothing to say about his mother, she was nearly a victim of it all and there was no need to bring her up, let alone in the topic of his solution.

He gasped, the ongoing cycle of thoughts triggering one that suddenly got launched into his mind. She was implying his mother was the problem. Was that it? Was that where she was going to take this conversation, that his mother that did nothing wrong in her life apart from marrying a terrible man, was the reason his life was unbearable.

“No, leave her out of this. You were right to think I’d get angry, how dare you imply my mother is the cause of all of this?” He screamed, the anger seeping into his blood like a drug that just consumed him whole.

She flinched, her eyes closing, and she took a deep breath.

“Why do you refuse to talk about her? Why do you refuse to even remember her? Mr. Jeon, you have a tendency to block out memories, to make yourself forget something happened and I have a feeling you did the same for your mother,” she spoke, her voice gaining confidence as her body straighten out.

She looked determined, she hasn’t seen that look in anyone’s face in a while. It was a look of determination, a look that only showed up when someone stands down to the world trying to knock them out. He saw it in Ms. Kang a month ago, and he saw it in Junhong days ago, now, she is the one wearing it.

But the part that made his heart race and adrenaline feeding hatred into his senses, was the idea that she thought she had him all figured out. She knew nothing about his mother, nothing about him at all, yet she was so confident in what he did with his mother’s memory.

“You don’t know anything about me? I answer your questions and just because of that, you think you know me?” He spat, his voice gaining more power and becoming louder and stronger.

“I don’t know you, but I know that something happened to you that completely turned your life around. What happened with you mother? Why can’t you just answer me?” She asked, her eyes wavering behind him as Jungkook could feel another presence lingering.

Junhong got out of the bathroom, he was on stand by. There was a reason he didn’t leave them alone, like he’s done before. And Jungkook knew it was because they were both afraid that he would lash out and assault her.

Is this what he had become? He asked himself. Not knowing what was worse, the answer or the proof that backed it up. He is being guarded by Junhong, because he had become so violent and uncontrollable. He didn’t know when it happened, but his anger has become harder to contain, and these were the consequences of it all. Who he stated were his friends at one point that week, were now equally scared of his own actions.

“She died of cancer.”

His words froze everyone, they even froze him. He never talked about it, he never wanted to talk about it and he never wanted to remember it. He never forgot what happened that day, the day that she died. It became like a mark embedded onto his skin.

Every morning, he would wake up and remember how cruel the world was. Because no day goes by where he forgets that his mother died of cancer. And he never talks about it and tries to forget about it, but he just couldn’t because he saw it all.

“She was diagnosed and underwent treatment. When my father’s rising company was getting busy, he showed no interest. He wasn’t even there on her last day. I saw it all, I saw when the life left her eyes and he was no where to be seen. She died, leaving me alone with that sick man and I can never forget that. Are you happy now?” His words were withering away, his voice thick with emotion and all that left his lips were emotions that were concealed for far too long.

He could never forget that day, how could he? He sat there, at his mother’s death bed. Her hair was gone, yet she still looked beautiful. Her weak hand grasped his, she whispered a simple ‘I love you’ before she took one last breath and left him all alone.

What happened before that moment, before that minute and after, was a blur. He never recalled anything, the only thing that he can remember about that day was that simple whisper and that last spark of life leaving his mother’s eyes.

“No, what was your mother like? What was your relationship with your mother?” She asked, her voice thick and shaking as she was having a hard time pushing the question out of her lips.

He felt his throat throb and it became painful to even swallow. How could she be pushing it? He hated talking about it, it was painful and hard and he was having a hard time concealing a scream, but she had no compassion. She kept on pushing.

His mother was…

His mother was…

He had no idea how to fill that in. He looked at the ground, his head dropping heavily as he tried to remember. The memory of his mother becoming more limited the more he kept thinking about how to answer.

His mother was…

“Mr. Jeon?” She screeched, her voice shaking and full of fear.

His head spun, he looked at her and saw her standing there, her silhouette was slightly blurred and almost foggy. He didn’t even realize she wasn’t looking at him, her foggy figure simply ran forwards and falling onto her knees, she rushed rather slowly.

She looked like she was a slowed down image.

Jungkook felt the pressure against his chest start again, he felt his lungs became harder and harder to expand and be filled with air.

“Junhong, call in the paramedics,” she shouter, her voice thin and fragile as she loomed over a figure that was on the grown.

Jungkook looked, not knowing what had just happened, where that person lying on the ground even came from. He stared, his head spinning as everything thing felt like he was looking at the world with eyelashes covered in water.

He stumbled back, screaming as he saw a group of men storming in and rushing to aid the man on the ground whose body was shaking uncontrollably. He stared and stared but it was inevitable, the man was him.

You know, I feel bad having you guys wait two more weeks for what is going to happen.

So, I have an idea.

I’m in my last week before spring break, and like the lame person I am, I have no plans to do anything. I’m just staying home, binge reading like 5 books and binge watching like 5 anime shows.

So, my idea is to finish publishing the last four chapters that week of spring break, which is March 10-18.

I just want to get this story out of the way and begin on my next project. I have two stories in mind, one which is supposed to be a fun fluffy one and another is more supernatural fun one.

So, Chapter 22 will be up next Sunday the 11^th and the rest will follow through. Chapter 23 that following Tuesday, Chapter 24on Thursday, and Chapter 25 + Epilogue on Sunday.

And then, we are done. Thank you for reading, have an amazing day you amazing human.