“Jeon Haejung’s only child,” Jungkook said, his wide eyes fixed on Taehyung’s waiting, anticipating for even the slightest bit of reaction. And Taehyung reacted. He reacted fairly well.

“Jungkook, follow me. We need to talk,” he said and led him away. From the crowd; from the things that didn’t matter.

The pair rushed up to the school terrace never minding that the bell would due ring in around twenty minutes. Finally locking the door that led them to it, Taehyung turned to Jungkook and asked him what he had been dying to ask the past few fleeting seconds that were spent while running.

“What do you remember?”

Jungkook gulped. For Taehyung to understand, he had to start from the beginning. From where everything began and caused a chain reaction which eventually led him to be a ghost. A darned blasted ghost who had the cruel fate of meeting the most wonderful and self sacrificing person in the world whom he loved more than life itself (no pun intended). The day his mother found out about his piquing interest in fashion.

~~~

“If you liked fashion, why didn’t you say so, Jungkook?” a mellow but somewhat constricting voice asked the raven haired pale boy of twelve years in front of her. She had in her hands a legitimately sized art book which Jungkook treasured and painstakingly kept a secret from his mother in fear of being judged so critically.  The little boy stood nervously in the center of the room with his hands nervously knotted behind his back. The woman before him constantly turned the pages and made pleased sounds.

“You are talented, my boy,” she said and finally closed the book. “I suppose I don’t have to worry about the inheritance of my company now then,” she concluded and walked out of the room, leaving little Jungkook pleased and relieved that his mother liked his works.

~~~

“That was the last time I smiled so happily because of my mother,” Jungkook said nostalgically and furrowed deeper into the story which he was currently relaying to his elder companion.

~~~

Five scrupulous years of absolute meticulousness passed and Jungkook was past the point of regretting why he ever showed his mother his talent in the first place. What started out as innocent sketches eventually turned to blood sweating employment for Jungkook by his mother. He initially wanted to be someone who took over his mother’s company for the fun of it, because he loved art to be very frank, but the pressure was getting to him. His mother, even though she was a good mother, didn’t fail to breathe down his neck whenever she could.

And thus, the chain reaction took its place; currently working its way to the future which seemed to be planned out.

“Master Jungkook,” the old maid (who wasn’t really that old but for atmosphere’s sake, she was referred to as old) called out and pulled the covers off of Jungkook’s lean body. The said boy groaned and curled into an even tighter ball. The whole room (which resembled a ballroom regardless of the bed in the middle) lay wasted due to crumpled up paper and materials for sample production which his mother had set a deadline for. Four days from then.

“The mistress informs you that the meeting with Mister Lee has been advanced to today. She advices you to get up,” she said and nudged him like a mother would.

Jungkook groaned all the more. “Tell mom I’ve got classes today, Mrs. Jung.” He was tired. Physically, mentally, psychologically and emotionally.

Why couldn’t mom inform me herself? And besides, doesn’t she care for my education? She never even bothers that I’m actually getting the highest scores, does she?

“Master Jungkook,” Mrs. Jung urged again but failed as Jungkook only put the pillow over his raven black hair to mark the end of the conversation. Although worried, Mrs. Jung pulled back the covers over Jungkook’s body and drew back the curtains again. Jungkook was a genius, she knew. He could afford to miss one day of classes for sleep. Besides, she would have to wake him up a little later again for the meeting.

~~~

“I don’t have time Jungkook,” the woman in the desirably fashionable clothes said as she finalized the divorce papers on her study table.

“What do you mean, mother?” Jungkook yelled at her, balling up his fists till his knuckles went white. “You’re giving up your marriage for the sake of your work! Don’t you love dad?”

“Love was never a common denominator in this, Jeon Jungkook!” his mother finalized, ever the ice hearted woman that she was. But Jungkook didn’t believe it. He had seen his parents being in love and he knew that it was definitely the emotion, the feeling that he thought it was.

“A failed marriage isn’t uncommon in these times, Jungkook,” she said finally looking at the boy in front of her desk – her icy cold glare devoid of any form of emotion. Jungkook held back his tongue even though his mind came up with a hundred and one reasons that this was in fact, not a failed marriage. How could it be one when she wasn’t even trying?

“Besides, it was your father who had an affair. So why are you on his side?”

Jungkook’s tears were in the midst of shattering on the cold tiled floor now.

You never put up a fight. You never gave him a chance. You never gave him time. You didn’t give us time!

It would have been a lie to say that Haejung wasn’t affected to see her only child crying over the divorce of his parents. But it couldn’t be helped. He cheated on her, didn’t he? So she chose to ignore her only son, her only one true treasure in the whole world, as her eyes fell back to the other papers on the desk.

“I don’t have time for this Jungkook,” she concluded, pushing aside the file which contained the papers which would mark the end of her relation with Jungkook’s father forever. “And if you’re smart, you shouldn’t make time for it as well.”

~~~

Jungkook walked into his room with a self satisfied smile on his handsome face. He, after throwing his school bag onto his bed, went to the mirror and checked his newly dyed hair.

Pleased with how the maroon color seemed so outrageously bright, he did a fabulous hair flip and smiled even though he didn’t feel like it. He had been feeling empty ever since his parents divorced.

His mother, during dinner, only spoke to him about her upcoming meetings and how she would need new designs from him in a matter of three months.

To make things clear, she wasn’t a parasite, who kept on draining out ideas from him and taking credit for it. She actually gave him fully deserved credit for his own work. But she just pressurized him so much; enforced him into the business so much without actually letting him take a break from everything. And during the whole dinner, she never took notice of how changed, how different looked with his new hair. Or how different he looked in general.

And the only thing Jungkook regretted was not being able to tell her that he needed a break. Because of this inability to speak out to his own mother, he was stuck in an endless cycle of manufacturing endless ideas which eventually tired him out and led him to hate everything which reminded him of his mother.

“That’s an interesting choice of hair color, Mr. Jeon,” the teacher commented as he walked into the classroom the next day. But he didn’t bother about it. Why should he?

~~~

“I’m staying with dad tonight,” Jungkook finally said one evening. And for the first time in a long time, his mother looked right into his eyes making Jungkook realize that his mom still cared for him even in the slightest way. Realizing that she wouldn’t be able to stop him, she simply darted her eyes away, much to Jungkook’s disappointment.

Why couldn’t she have at least tried to stop me?

Mrs. Jeon resumed her work, burying her head deeper into her laptop and papers. She only gave a weak caution. “Be careful then. Inform someone when you’ve reached your dad’s place.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes disgustedly. ‘Inform someone when you’ve reached your dad’s place’! He chose not to even care anymore.

~~~

“Thanks for letting me stay the night dad,” Jungkook said and watched his soft hearted father lead him to his own room. His dad chuckled. “You could’ve informed me a little earlier, Jungkook. That way I could have ordered good food or something.”

Jungkook shook his head. “I had dinner, dad,” he lied. He just didn’t want to eat the food which the hotel service provided.

“Still then,” he said and turned the knob to one of the doors of his own private suite. “You could’ve informed me that you were coming. I could’ve went and picked you up. After all, you live on the extreme opposite side of the town.”

Jungkook chuckled, his eyes crinkling up at the corners – something which his face terribly missed. “I’m fine dad. Although, I think I’ll be imposing on you for more than a day.”

His father stopped dead in his steps and turned to Jungkook. “What?”

Jungkook sighed. “I’m really tired dad. Of everything. I just want to spend some time with you.”

His father was quick to intercede. “Yeah, no. I know. Even I’ve been busy the past year. But you won’t want to embarrass your mother now would you?” he said, referring to what would happen if Jungkook decided to cause a ruckus over family matters. “She has an image which she keeps, you know?”

It was a mutual understanding that Jeon Haejung loved her son a whole lot more than she actually showed.

Jungkook smiled reassuringly, quickly justifying that he didn’t intend to do such a thing. “No. I just need a break. She’s pressurizing me again to come up with ideas for her summer collection,” was Jungkook’s light reply.

“I wish I could do something to help,” his father replied, almost in a whisper. It was times like this that he wished he never signed those blasted divorce papers. But Jungkook caught his father’s words crystal clear. “You can, actually,” he said cheerfully. “You can let me stay here for a week.”

The two men shared a laugh and finally Jungkook’s dad commented, “By the way, Jungkook. I’ve been meaning to ask.” Jungkook turned to him expectantly for any question. “Why on earth did you dye your hair into such a color? Why, did the stylist run out of something more outrageous than that?” he asked sarcastically and humorously. Jungkook feigned hurt and justified that he actually pulled it off better than anyone else with red/maroon hair. At least he noticed.

~~~

“I’ll pack up everything when I get back dad,” Jungkook spoke through the phone as the elevator doors opened upon reaching the ground floor. It was his last day to stay at his father’s place. It wasn’t that his mother was worried for him not returning home for a whole week (she was. And she called him to ask when he would be coming back. Once) but he wanted to go back to his mother because in some way, he missed her.

“Okay,” the voice on the other end of the phone said. “See you later then. Oh wait,” he suddenly added. Jungkook put the phone back against his ear again. “Yeah dad?” he asked. “Are you sure you don’t want me to ask a chauffeur to drive you to school or something? You seem late today.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, but not in a disrespectful way. “I’m fine, dad. Besides, the walk to the bus stop is just fifteen minutes from here.” His father finally gave up in convincing him that a car would be faster since his school was a long way from their place.

Jungkook paid no heed to the time. He was sure that had probably already missed the first period by then but he didn’t mind; allowing three buses to pass as he sat quietly at the deserted stop. He didn’t know why but he felt that he had to wait for some more time. A gut feeling enabled him to do so, so to speak.

And since it was a little hotter than expected that day, he had left his blazer at his dad’s place, which meant that he only had on his white shirt and a loose black tie and his school trousers to signify that he was a student which meant less hassle from concerned passer bys.

Feeling a disappointment at nothing and everything in particular, he stood up and walked slowly towards the edge of the sidewalk to see an approaching bus from the distance.

The bus stopped right in front of him and the doors opened with the hissing of the hydraulics. Jungkook held onto the handle bars and slowly decided to pull himself up into the vehicle. However, choosing that moment to take one final look at his surroundings; because, after all, he probably wouldn’t be returning to this place ever again, he turned towards his right and saw a not very strange sight.

In the distance, a few blocks away from where he was standing, he saw another student, making his way – running, in fact, towards the bus stop. From the looks of his uniform, he was from a completely different school. But that wasn’t what caught his attention. No. His attention was unquestionably seized by the color of the student’s hair – Neon orange.

Pondering whether or not to ask for the bus driver to wait for a few more seconds, he watched the student nearing the bus stop, secretly hoping (though he had no idea why) that he would make it to the bus. But realizing that the stranger was letting the bus go, which was evident from the slowing down of his footsteps, Jungkook turned away; back to the bus and pulled himself in.

Oh well! The student can get another bus…

~~~

Jungkook choked back a sob but cold tears toppled down his cheeks as he watched Taehyung watch him. He continued his memories.

“A student with hair as bright as the sun,” he said, “You were the last person that I got to take a good look at, hyung. You were the last person I saw before the bus I got on crashed and killed all the passengers.”

Taehyung watched Jungkook in sheer anxiety and worry. The maroon haired boy with the adorable bunny teeth and the beautiful eyes did remember everything. And he didn’t know whether to be happy or not of this little outcome.

A/N:

Now everything is explained. What do you think will happen?

(If there was anything confusing about this chapter, feel free to ask... I'll be happy to answer you. And sorry this chapter took up only Taekook's story. But if you noticed the title, there will a part b to this chapter so stay tuned.)

As always, feel free to comment, subscribe and upvote... Thanks <3

Indefinitely,

Typical Fangirl09