Boy By The Sea • taekook

Two

In the dark, the living room is expansive and sparse, all the modern lines and hard edges dulled by the night. A large industry style steel lamp casts a soft ember glow over the cold soapstone kitchen island. Piles of documents are sorted in order and neatly arranged in a row. Jeongguk, in a thickly starched white shirt unbuttoned at the collar, sifts through the paperwork while mulling over a long email.

He's long found that a few hours of work after dinner helps him sleep better, a recap of the day of sorts, when he focuses on drafting longer documents that require a bit more finesse, sometimes over a sip of scotch.

Victoria always hated it, "You make having money look like the most exhausting thing in the world", she would scoff and roll her pretty eyes. And Jeongguk always smiled back at her, eye apologetic and softly reminded her of some social event of the night that she could escape to, alone.

She was probably right. Managing wealth is indeed much more boring than what people believe it to be, but it's what he's good at, what he's poured all his time and energy into perfecting, in lieu of hobbies and other passions that seem to have eluded him over the years. He's heard of the rumors in the industry, that he has the golden touch. Any private equity investment he's even worked on - from high tech to entertainment - seems to always flourish and prosper. When he was younger, he use to be anxious about having to prove himself, alone in front of the executive board of his company, or the judgmental eyes of some senior studio head, but he learned to channel his anxiety and use it to push himself to be more meticulous than anyone else.

There's no such thing as a golden touch, just a hollow catchphrase tossed around during small talks. People love a success story, the countless failed efforts are usually conveniently forgotten and left behind.

His hand on the keyboard slows, as he tries in vain to curb all the scattered thoughts. Victoria's sympathetic smile flashes across his mind stubbornly.

What now, Gukkie. You wanted the divorce, you always get what you want in the end. What now.

He looks up and soaks in the solitude, and can no longer ignore the trigger of all the random thoughts. The tiny hairline crack on his otherwise mundane day. Jeongguk reaches for his phone.

Which motel did you drop him off at?

Jimin responds almost immediately - If you really want to go, I should take you. I strongly recommend it.

Jimin turns out to be right, as usual. The car zooms pass the dim streets of Washington Heights, before stopping at an old worn out motel with an empty parking lot saved for one really beat up car. Jeongguk gestures for Jimin to stay in the car and half expects the heavy sigh that follows, "alright, that's the room I put him in. He's too weak to hurt you anyways, just holler if you need anything, ok?"

Jeongguk leans in to pat him on the shoulder reassuringly, and whispers a thanks before stepping out.

The door to the room is unlocked, and opens with a creak. A dark figure is curled up in the corner of the bed, like some wounded animal, taking up a surprisingly small space on the otherwise empty bed. There was no response to his entrance. Jeongguk hesitates but decides to turn on the lamp by the bedside. He walks over to the other side of the bed, the kid's face is just as gaunt and grimy as he remembers, with knotted brows and pursed lips. Just when he thought about leaving him be, the kid opens his eyes, "I figured it was you."

Jeongguk struggles to respond.

Those eyes, icy and in pain, take another look at him and close, "whatever you want, just be done with it and leave, ok?"

The words irritate him, making him feel irrationally uneasy. Jungkook looks at him for a moment before finally drawing a breath and speaking with a stern tone, "I don't want anything from you, the room is already paid for, get some rest, and try not to die while you are here."