sadness flourishes in company and his came in the form of alcohol and barely clothed women at a strip club. the after taste is acidic beneath his tongue at another shot out of many, the light show making it very hard for him to open his eyes, yet alone see things properly. he’s in a foreign country with an open table, countless girls passing by him and when he squints his tired eyes hard enough, he can almost hear her saying his name. a light voice calls for him and had it been logic that were speaking through him, he’d think it could be a fan in the club or a paparazzi chasing after him for a new headline. until he feels a hand wrapped around his, that somehow felt exactly like hers. he looks up, the unknown figure blocking the light from him, allowing his eyes to peer through the haze. park chaeyoung. and before he could even speak, she’s pull him through the back door. 

“what the were you thinking jungkook?” she pushes him against the wall, and his eyes feel overly heavy, “… you’re in a country that you don’t speak the main language of, in a ing strip club without security personnel. don’t you know the struggles i went through to find you?” 

“i’m sorry,” he barely manages to whisper, a sheepish smile across his lips, “… how’d you find—”

“don’t talk, i don’t want to listen to you tonight. the car is on its way so just stay awake we’re going straight to the hotel and straight to bed, do not pass go and collect two hundred doors and certainly no fast food stops,” she’s ranting on in concern as the car quickly arrives. 

she doesn’t wait for him to move, tugging his arm and