JUNGKOOK

Third place.

The insides of my lips go dry when I see my score, and panic starts to cloud my mind in black waves. I wasn't even second this time— I was third.

"Good work, Jungkook!" The teacher claps me on the back, but I don't hear any of his compliments. "Just what so expect from my top student."

But I'm not first.

Blinking hard, I stand up numbly as the bell for third period rings. I'd already slipped in my lens this morning, before first period.

I'd practiced the entire night, locking myself in my bathroom.

Forget about it. Father will understand. I can do better next time— I can work even harder. And then I won't disappoint him anymore.

But when I don't find Min in her usual seat, the small scraps of positivity I'd given myself dissipates into ashes.

Where is she?

This time, I go find her even before the teacher tells me to. I rush outside of school, my heart racing furiously in anticipation.

Min wouldn't do that to me. She wouldn't be—

She was.

When I see her smoking with an empty look on her face, I instantly feel my eyes sting with tears. My usually soft voice is even softer as I stand there hopelessly.

"Min."

She suddenly stands up, not saying anything at all. Her usual smiling lips are flat, and panic seizes my chest when she brushes past me.

"Min!" My fingers tighten around the sleeve of her upper arm, chest falling hard. "Why are you like this? Why won't you talk to me?"

"Why are you smoking again?"

Then I see her swallow. But her voice is steel, and my head goes light when she hisses between her teeth.

"Let go, Jungkook."

I let go. I'm too stunned not to, with the dark look in her eyes. She'd never looked at me like that before— and it was terrifying.

But when she walks away without looking back not even once, that's somehow much more scarier.

"Don't do this to me."

My voice is all broken, and she pauses for a second. I needed someone to confide in right now— and if she left me as well, I didn't know how I could deal with myself after.

But then the moment shatters, and she leaves.

________________________

"Third place, Jungkook?"

I've stopped breathing a long time ago. I just look down at the polished wooden floor of my father's study, my body shaking under his disgusted gaze.

"Pathetic." He spits, and I hear the sound of the chair scraping against the floor. I fist my shirt in my hands.

"Show me your hands."

My eyes flicker up in panic, and I see him standing so close. He's holding his metal poker, and I suck in a harsh breath in terror.

"Show me your hands."

Shaking, I finally put my hands in front of him. My palms face upwards, and I resist the urge to fist them tightly when the first blow comes.

A pained cry escapes my lips, and I instinctively draw back.

I deserve this. I remind myself, shaking violently as I force my palms back out. The pain comes again, and again, until I finally stumble back, crying softly.

I don't even want to look at my hands.

"Turn around and lift up your shirt." He says firmly, and I tug my shirt over my head. It takes me more than ten tries, because I can't put strength in my hands.

"Father, please, I'll do better." I whisper, pleading with my eyes squeezed shut. "I'll do—"

I cut myself off with a choked cry, my back lighting on fire with the pain. I could never get used to this— no matter how much I wanted to.

He hits again, and this time I scream, bursting into harder tears.

"Pathetic boy."

By the time he's done with me, the floor of his study is painted with drops of my blood.

"Go to your room." He hisses, eyes hard as I lose my balance, slamming my shoulder into the door trying to get out. My vision is blurred with tears, darkened with red.

"Jungkook!"

Strong arms wrap around my broken body, tugging me upwards. Taehyung growls under his breath, eyes harsh as he fixes a look towards the study.

"H-Hyung." I whisper weakly as he helps me to my room, my head hung low in shame. "I'm sorry."

"What?" He hisses, voice tight. "Sorry for what? Actually, don't even answer that. Save your breath."

Pulling down his sleeve, he wipes away my tears.

"Y-You shouldn't be doing this for me." I murmur, feeling like I'm losing my voice. "If— If my father finds out, you'll be f-fired."

"Save your breath." He repeats, eyes full of worry. "Jungkook, I'm allowed to take care of you as a servant. Just sleep, everything will be fine."

"It-It isn't fine, hyung." Strangely Min's face appears in my mind, and my chest seizes painfully.

She'd left.

Thinking of her makes me cry more, and he quickly whispers sweet words into my ear, trying to calm me down. He'd taken care of me for the past ten years, knowing this helped me.

I want her to smile at me again.

I want that so badly. I've never wanted anything else so much before as I want that now, to see her amused, dark smile.

"Shh, it's okay." Taehyung whispers softly, his features scrunching when he looks back to my numb hands. Pain tears at me from everywhere, and he finally curses.

"This is ridiculous, Jungkook. Your father is crazy— he's insane."

"It's not him." I say shakily, and he looks shockingly at me. "It's my fault. It's all my fault— don't blame him, hyung. I'm the one who should've done better."

_________________________

In the morning, I feel exhausted even though I'd slept through both evening and night. When I'd woken up, my back and hands had been bandaged, the sheets changed.

My writing hand is significantly less damaged than the other, and I feel nauseous realizing the truth.

He'd hit me less here so I could still write and study.

My head feeling heavy, I sigh as I get to my feet. Slinging my backpack over my shoulder feels like the hardest thing I've ever done, the backside of it hitting my wounds.

Then my eyes catch on the lens case.

I had my glasses on, but I swallow when I see them. My heart stings when I realize that hard night of practice was all for nothing— I remembered being so excited.

So useless now.

But maybe....

It takes me less than a minute to take off my glasses and put my lenses in. When I blink at myself in the mirror, I see a messy-haired, pale-faced boy, with eyes too big it looks hollow.

I swallow.

Running a hand messily through my hair, I decide to skip breakfast. I'd already slept until eight— the time when the driver would bring me to school.

I'm so exhausted that I end up falling asleep in the short drive.

When the driver wakes me up, I mumble out a quick thank-you. A forceful smile sets on my face when I see the top of Jimin's light brown hair, his eyes wandering around looking for me.

"Jimin." I call, and his confused eyes turn into happy crescents when he sees me. He wraps his arms around me, a classic Jimin-greeting. It always made me smile, but this time I try not to wince.

"You did so well!" Jimin says, and I nod, trying to fix my expression. "See, I told you not to worry! I got the usual hundredth place."

Then his eyes widen at my bandages on my right hand. When he looks to me in question, I smile weakly.

"I crashed it into a wall."

"This looks shattered!" He hisses in shock, holding up my hand gingerly. "Jungkook, only you'd break a hand and come to school the next day."

He shakes his head.

"You should've taken the day off. Didn't your parents let you?"

"They did." I smile, and then run my fingers through his hair playfully. "But I had to come see my Jimin, yeah?"