Uh....you can ignore this chapter...It's just a book I'm working on...I just wanted to put it here cause me want to. So yeah...XD

Ps. This a BTS FF...The chapter is called: Roadkill.
So ignore this if you'd like!

        Month: May

                                       우유 달

JUNGKOOK -

THE CORN WAS TALKING TO HIM AGAIN.

Warm winter and a balmy spring in Gap of Seoul, everyone with a field and a taste for corn had plowed and planted earlier then they have ever done before.

On the last day of his junior year, exactly two months after his life had bursted like a fireball, Jungkook slowly walked home from his bus stop past plants that reached up to his waist. It was his favorite part of the afternoon...or it should have been: the sun shining bright and hot in the blue sky, the plants twitching their long green fingers.

Corn could grow inches in a single day; if you listened, you could hear it grow. Jungkook caught the familiar whisper it would say....here, here, here....and wished it would shut up.

His friend Namjoon would definitely agree. Namjoon hated the corn, said the plants seemed . . . Alive. Jungkook reminded him that, duh, of course the corn was alive, all plants are alive, Namjoon replied that the corn sounded alive alive.

As if it wasn't just growing, it was ripping itself out of the soil and sneaking round onits skinny white roots. Scarecrows weren't made to scare the crows, they were made to scare the corn. It was enough to give someone nightmares. Otherwise, why would so many horror movies have cornfields in them?

Jungkook had enough nightmares, but they weren't about cornfields. His dreams used to be filled with typical stuff: getting naked with this girl or that one. Hair looking like an actual coconut. Showing up to class wearing nothing but his yellow jacket and his boxers that are stripped in many colors. Jumping so high not even a kangaroo could keep up.

Now? He couldn't close his eyes without seeing Jimin's small paw like hands slapping at fogged glass, the gleaming black Ford truck swallowed up by the gathering dark.

He didn't sleep if he could help it. And he didn't even bother to listen to the corn anymore. Why should he, when it wouldn't stop lying?

Sweat prickled on his scalp, he stopped to switch his backpack from one shoulder to the other. He lifted his head, cornfield stretched out for miles, but standing here, on a hazy back rode in South Korea, you wouldn't know it. The pavement in front of Jungkook ended in a wall of sky, as if it was sliced off by the swing of a scythe.

He would of stood there for a while, considering the cutaway and the perfect metaphor it was, of a murder of black crows hadn't shown up, cawing their small stupid heads off.

Jungkook was not impressed. "What are you fools supposed to be? Set decoration?"

Those stupid birds will pluck your eyes out before they peck you to death, Namjoon would have told him. Haven't you seen Hitchcock? But Jungkook never really liked movies, and thought those crows were nothing but a bunch of jokers and thieves.

That's what he called them. "Jokers."

The crows said, "Coward!" They cackled and flapped, sun shining blue on their glossy wings, beaks sharp as hay hooks.

Okay maybe Namjoon had a point.

Jungkook kept walking, feet heavy in the heat. His temples began to throb, sandy eyelids scratching his corneas. If he spoke, his voice would creak like an old door the same way Hoseok's did when he got sick in the winter, and on those days he would look like he chucked a whole bottle of drugged pills. He would yammer about his dogs when they were little pups, or how his dimples shined brighter then the sun, or the time he used to play with sticks and stones when was just a little boy.

Like Hoseok, Jungkook wished he could turn back the days as easily as a farmer turning a page in an almanac. He wished that the people of Gap of Seoul could forgive, and that he could forget.

He hiked up his backpack, working on forgetting.

Think of something else, anything else. Maybe like his chores, which his brother would want finished by dinner. Like studying for college entrance exams, exams he would ace if had any hope of going away, getting away, though the thought of leaving made his stomach clench. Like TXT, all five of them as mean as bulldogs, boys who like to hurt people who got them n their way, and people who didn't.

The very same boys who appeared on the rode in front of him.

Jungkook froze up like a monument to cowards everywhere. Was it them? Was he really sure? Of course he was sure. Jungkook could always tell, even from this far away. All five of them were tall and skinny, making them look like a chorus line of cats and dogs. They walked as if they owed the town.

The boys hadn't been on the bus, they didn't bother to show up in class. Jungkook had no idea were they'd come from or how he could have missed them. He was always missing things. Luckily for him, they seemed to not notice him as they headed in the same direction. He could just turn the other way. Or, if the corn was higher, he could vanish into it, go missing himself.

But then, there was no point in running, no point in hiding, and he had nothing left to be scared of. He dragged his heels, pebbles rocketed across pavement.

One of the boys turned around. "Hey, look. It's Yellow Jacket. Trying to sneak up on us again?"

"Whatcha doing, Bunny boy?"

"Eating Carrots with your big teeth?"

Mean as bulldogs, dumb as dirt. He sighed, the sharp exhale like the hiss of the plants all around them.

"Who are you laughing at?"

And easy, too. "I'm sorry. I'm not laughing."

"Yes, you are. Moonface."

"Okay, I am laughing."

"Not at us," said one.

"Not if you're smart," said another.

"Haven't you heard?" Said Jungkook. "I'm not so smart."

Easy and easily confused, eyebrows scrunching like inchworms. The five boys didn't know what he was going on about. Nether did himself.

"Never mind," said Junkook. "Just talking to myself is all."

"Yeah, Just keep talking to yourself, because we have places to be."

"Later, bunny boy."

Later, thought Jungkook.

And then, nothing will be different later.

He hadn't been laughing, but the crows? They were laughing. The corn kept on whispering. The sun a yellow eye scorched in a blanket of blue. He looked at it for too long, and ate holes in his head. Just that morning, he'd gone into Jimin's apartment and found all his stuff gone, the air fog of Pine-sol. Sometime that night, who knew when, Jungkook's brother had clean things out, scrubbed things down, as if Jimin could be washed from memory just by washing the floors.

More pebbles shot across the road, more words shot out of his mouth.

"Now that you reminded me about it, I was chatting to the crows earlier. They were wondering why you guys looked like dirty stray of cats and dogs."

The boys had surrounded him before he had the chance to think of a way out. Not that he wanted one. They circled around him, old names and new one dropping like bouncy balls.

"Spaceman! We're talking to you!"

Jungkook replied, "what?"

"What do you have in that bag of yours?" One of them ripped the backpack off him, searched it. The bag went flying into the field of corn.

He could still turn around.

"Hey! Crack head! Are you listening?"

He could of dived into the corn—backtrack, sidetrack.

"Why do you even have so many books when you can't read?"

Jungkook said, "Funny coming from guys who can't tell the difference between their cows and their girlfriends."

The first blow knocked the air from his lungs. He bent at the waist, trying to get his breaths back. He didn't have the chance to see which one had hit him— Soobin, Yeonjun, Beomgyu, Taehyun, or Huening Kai. None were more than about eighteen months apart in age, all had brunette or raven hair and pale skin and dark eyes, and who could tell one from the other?

Jungkook took a couple of rabbit punches to the kidneys before one of them grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked him upright. Jungkook blinked his eyelids, his eyes zeroing in on that famous jawline.

They weren't even trying.

He said, "Listen, Soobin, if you thought—"

"Are you joking?"

"No, I'm-"

"He's Soobin," the boy said, pointing to another. "I'm Yeonjun. And you're roadkill."

All five boys suddenly forgot the places they had to be, because they took their time and gave it their all, knuckles almost sharper than their jawlines. And even though Jungkook was tall, his arms and legs ropey with farm muscle, the boy's were taller and stronger, and there were about four and a half too many of them.

Once they were done, they gathered around and peered down at Jungkook, sprawled on the cracked asphalt. "You know," one of them said, "anytime Yoongi wants some real brothers, we could make room for him."

If Jungkook's teeth didn't feel so loose, he might have laughed again. Everyone loved Yoongi, even TXT.

If someone ever needed help, Yoongi was the guy who'd show up, sirens blaring, arms pumping, black bag swinging in his big hands, sharp eyes taking it all  in. Though Yoongi had questions to ask, he never asked too many, and never the wrong ones.

But of course it was more then that. The people of Gap of Seoul loved Yoongi because of Jimin.

Because Yoongi loved Jimin.

Above Jungkook, someone muttered about being hungry. Someone else said, "shut it." Someone's phone tinged. Someone nudged Jungkook with his foot as if Jungkook were a possum. Pretending to be dead.

He wanted to shout so that everyone could hear. I loved him, too. And it was true. But it had done none of them any good.

Jungkook spat the blood from his mouth. "I'll tell Yoongi you guys said hello."

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This is half of the chapter...still have to write more-
But if you made it this far...I hope you enjoyed or whatever! UwU