STORMS

six

06 —
HOME.

jeongguk felt like shit.

it was almost rare for him to feel like he was dying, normally he'd just experience infuriating headaches and coughs—bloody ones, sometimes—but right now pain flooded his body enough that the boy almost whipped out his phone to say goodbye to the few people in his life. he seated himself on the couch with his neck resting back, forehead damp with beads of sweat. the same blasting of heavy rock was still unable to block the migraine but jeongguk isn't one to learn his lesson the first time.

his chest rising up in uneven patterns and heartbeat smashing against his ribcage indicated his first nightmare in a while, in which the people stopped crying and there were no more salty tears to fill the lonely sand. his dearest blue waters were gone, but maybe it was a sign for jeongguk. a message trying to be sent across saying he needed to stop swimming in his pain of the past because the summer memories were gone. soon enough the air will plant goosebumps on his skin and paint his nose red. he will never get that familiar warmth back. of course, he was so sick and tired of feeling worthless and guilty. he asks himself why every day, why jewels always lose their sparkle when one has had them for so long. it'd been years, and not even a tumor can help him forget.

the sofa wrinkled with old kisses and lost love was almost uncomfortable considering he hadn't sat on it for so long. the cherry wood floor was his only friend since he didn't have the guts to place himself where memories were created. he grew sick of the floor, sick of the couch, sick of his own home, sick of the same intense tune that he blasts on days like this. a vibrating tone is felt beneath the back pocket of his jeans belonging to the cellphone he spends a good amount fishing for. his mouth forms into a firm line as the ghostly name pops onto the glass screen. a name he hadn't seen in months. "what is it, taehyung?" he says, sure to make it obvious he was not willing to forgive and forget.

"wow, it's been a while guk," the silky honey leaks through the other line. "jimin and i are hanging out, just wanted to know if you—"

"you know i don't drink." he says in sync with his sudden urge to punch the walls. his eyes shut tight at the voice that makes him wish he was never friends with such a man who had the capability to abuse.

taehyung knows it all too well. they'd been friends since childhood before the summer jeongguk cut ties with him, would he really not know the reason he doesn't drink? "don't worry about it! let's meet at my house then?"

jeongguk is on the edge of his seat with vengeance which gave him the sudden strength to prop himself up. the anger tempted him to reach into his pocket for the nicotine, which never calmed him but, it was a better excuse to use so he could at least pretend to not be furious. the boy concludes that taehyung has officially lost his mind and that he must really not care, if he ever did care at least. everything started with taehyung's house, it was the summer spot where they threw parties as young teens who drank underage with pretty girls at their sides ready to give themselves away. but a pretty girl did not belong, she had caught too much attention. taehyung's house is the reason jeongguk grieves. the reason he is incapable of commitment.

but he attempts to calm himself, the strong grip wrapped around the phone slowly loosening. if it wasn't now, then he'd have to go through this again. "sure, why not? i have something i need to tell you two anyways." jeongguk ends the call first. he wobbles, spending a few extra seconds trying to get up from the sofa before a loud grunt helps him up. he walks toward his speaker before deciding last minute to leave it on during his absence, because his landlord just loved the ruckus. with a half–way gone pack of cigarettes he walks out the door to the home that put him in despair.

taehyung's home was always cold. even in the hottest of summer days, the doll–like residence was nearly an ice box. and ironically, so was the heart of the owner. two years ago it was the perfect excuse to have limbs tied to limbs with a lover for the night, but at the time the poise elder had for once committed to a jewel buried in the sand. maybe he's changed, the insomniac teen ponders with shattered hope drooping into his eye bags. or maybe i've changed too much.

it takes a minute before jimin peeps out from behind the door, his small figure an obvious clue. jeongguk knows his sleepless presence is worrying when jimin eyes him up and down with furrowed brows. and it hurts more to know he doesn't know why jeongguk looks more like death each day. but that's why he agreed to come here, to tell them his rotting secret.

"wow, you look like a pile of horse shit." the small boy remarks with a quiet snicker, heart–broken tone hidden within. "by the way, tae's out buying more alcohol at that one over-priced store. i told him i could settle for soju, but he insisted."

jeongguk only smiles as he steps into the home that hasn't changed one bit, sending nostalgic chills down his spine. the many empty green bottles on the counter create a pit of disgust in his abdomen, a frown when he sees one in the hands of his only sane friend. "i got these last night from the convenience store down the street," the shorter dark haired male says as he drops himself onto the leather sofa, jeongguk following behind along with the instant remnants of regret that surround the home. sweaty palms find comfort in the small strands of jeongguk's hair as a hard sigh escapes his frail lips. his eyes wander toward the stairs in which kim taehyung's room was located, the very room that started the aching of jeongguk's heart. just like this home he lives with the guilt of the girl they've shattered together, the girl whom they have no clue if she was dead or alive. but the boy who's fingertips smell of tobacco feels it's all his fault. and maybe, it was. "the girl who worked there was really nice, reminded me of her."

jeongguk averts his eyes toward jimin as his words echo in his mind. there was only one girl that could cause him to think back to the past, and that was choi jiho. "so you've met her too." jeongguk says while seating himself on the armrest of the couch.

jimin seems to get the hint, that the small girl was in fact the one jeongguk was talking about a while back. "do you like her, guk? she seems nice, and oddly enough . . . broken. do you have a thing for broken girls?"

"i don't want to hurt her," jeongguk says in a quiet whisper. "she doesn't deserve it, nobody deserves it. i already feel myself growing attached and i know why but i don't want to admit it."

because she reminds him too much of her.

"here's the best part, jimin. if i could, one day, overcome this stage of loss in my life; if i could learn to want her for who she is and not who she reminds me of, i don't think it would last. and it's quite fucking hilarious actually, because—because i think i might just die."

"guk, what the hell are you talking about? i know what happened really fucked you up, but like, death? you would never do that to yourself." jimin sits with crossed legs, body facing jeongguk who's gaze is fixated on the glasses of soju.

jeongguk gathers the courage to look at his friend. two years ago, as young and reckless teens, there is in fact more than one reason why jeongguk loathes taehyung. on a night with twinkling stars and whiskey running through the veins of kim taehyung, he'd offered to pick up more beverages for the party he was having. jeongguk still remembers the classical song playing, mozart requelm in d minor, he was always playing that damn song. instruments intensified and as a drunk taehyung asked the very question of what were you doing with my girlfriend? he'd driven right into a tree which sent jeongguk flying, strong force and glass enough to plant a tumor into his brain.

"i have a brain tumor."