Jungkook sighed once more as he was escorted to the interview room. He saw more of that room than he saw his own mother.

All because of that accident.

Accident. Yeah, right. Jungkook had seen enough films to know that people don’t just randomly get shot on the way to the cinema. Then again, films were very different to real life.

The policeman held open a door and motioned for Jungkook to go in and have a seat.

“Interview starts at 2.32pm. Please state your full name.”

They knew his name. He had told them multiple times already.

“Jeon Jeongguk. Call me Jungkook.”

The policeman nodded and then the all too familiar questions started.

“On the night of the 2nd of July, around 9.30pm, Park Jimin and two others were shot on Orbit Street.”

Shot. More like murdered.

Jungkook had all these ideas running through his mind, but he couldn’t say anything. The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth; those were the rules and he was sticking to them.

“What did you see?”

Jungkook looked up and met the policeman’s eyes. His eyes were cold, like he had done this a million times. Since the funeral, Jungkook had been interviewed multiple times by multiple people, all the questions the same and, likewise, his answers the same.

“I saw nothing. But I heard the shots. Three bangs."

One.

Two.

Three.

"Then it went quiet. I had to crawl through Jimins door because he put a lock on mine. Then I saw it. Three bodies. Three non-moving bodies lying on the cold, hard ground.”

He couldn’t go on, his mouth suddenly dry, choking back the tears.

“When you say you saw nothing, what does that mean?”

Jungkook was forced to think back to that night. The way he had been dissing Jimins driving, and moving away from him when Jimin tried to touch his cheeks; he had turned away and was instead watching the traffic when Jimin went to get the ticket.

“I mean, I wasn’t looking at Jimin; I was looking at the cars. The parking meter wasn’t far and I thought he’d only be gone a minute or two.”

Jungkook had been putting on a brave face but he was falling apart inside. Jimin was his best friend and now he was gone. Jungkook cried himself to sleep every night, and at the funeral he only barely made it through; being constantly reminded of Jimin was not doing him any good.

The policeman nodded and scribbled something down.

“We had one of the other victim’s family members in today. She didn’t see anything to do with the shootings either.”

Why was he telling me this?

“If you wanted, you could meet with the other families. Talk through your grief?”

Jungkook shook his head. It won’t bring Jimin back.

The policeman nodded again and didn’t persevere. “If you change your mind you can ask for their details. Interview ended at 2.40pm.”

The policeman stood and unlocked the door, leading Jungkook to the outside of the station.

“Thank you for your time today. We might have to call you back.”

Great.

“I’ll look forward to it.”

Without another word, Jungkook took off. The interview had left him numb, the same feeling he got when he saw Jimin lying there, still, not moving.

Dead.