JUNGKOOK
Days on trial: 66

The wind howled behind me as I shuddered at the door of my mom's place. With estranged parents, Christmas had always been a tricky one to navigate, even more so as an adult than it had been as a child. Back then, it was them who chose for me, but now I had to choose who to see, and it wasn't a decision I enjoyed making.

As a result, a compromise had been struck a few years back; I'd see them both, one during the day and the other for the evening, alternating each year.

First up today was mom, and for once, I didn't feel agitated. Sure, my step-dad would inevitably be a dick, and his snotty little kids would be even worse, but the usual anxiety that rested in my lungs didn't seem to be making itself known. Fresh air filled them, like it was spring already.

I felt content. It seemed silly to fret over the factors in my life that I didn't enjoy, when there were so many things that I did enjoy. I had the boys, our little apartment, a job I loved to do, and colours - fucking colours!!

I also had a certain little reporter, who kept prodding at my phone notifications during my drive back. Every time it pinged, I smiled. It didn't matter what the messages said - and she didn't care that I wasn't getting back to her. She'd double, triple, even quadruple text me if she had something she wanted to share with me. 

There were no games with Annie - yet I always felt like I was winning. 

Right on cue, my phone vibrated in my back pocket, and I slid it out to check.

annie📝:
RED ALERT

annie📝:
i know you like red, but i don't mean it in a good way

annie📝:
I MEAN IT IN A VERY BAD WAY

idiot🥴:
how bad are we talking?

I grinned as the message sent through, the nickname that she had christened me with on our messaging app standing tall and proud above my words. If I'd have figured out all those weeks ago that it was actually her way of flirting with me, then maybe I wouldn't have been such an idiot after all. That being said, she reckoned she liked idiots, so perhaps I should have been thanking my lucky stars instead.

Her reply was instant, lighting up the screen that I had only just locked.

annie📝:
i was carrying my little niece over to the table and she started playing with the neckline of my jumper

idiot🥴:
okay? 

annie📝:
she asked me what was only my neck

annie📝:
SHE COULD DISTINGUISH THE HUES

idiot🥴:
OH

annie📝:
i told her that i just had a poorly neck 

idiot🥴:
looooool, sorry matey

annie📝:
wasn't a very 'matey' thing to do now, was it? 🙃 😉

idiot🥴:
what? we're just mates... aren't we? 😜

annie📝:
i'm blocking you

idiot🥴:
please do

annie📝:
anyway, shut up, it's not the worst part yet

annie📝:
she called out for her mom, my sister, and proceeded to announce that i'd broken my neck

annie📝:
my mom is a NURSE

annie📝:
she came over pretending to check my neck and i couldn't shoo her away because i was carrying the little gremlin 

annie📝:
so yeah, mom saw and now thinks i've been doing god knows what

idiot🥴:
oh my god

idiot🥴:
i'm never coming round for dinner. ever.

annie📝:
Who said I'd invite you? 🤨

idiot🥴:
don't act like you dont wanna 😜

idiot🥴:
parents love me, i'll win them over

annie📝:
your confidence is cute

idiot🥴:
ur cute

annie📝:
🤢brb, gonna be sick x

idiot🥴:
yeah that was really wet actually, i take that back 

annie📝:
good

idiot🥴:
great

annie📝:
grand

idiot🥴:
fuck off annie 😘 

annie📝:
happy christmas, asshole x

As her last message pinged through, a gust of warm air engulfed me. The scent of roasted veggies and burning Christmas candles attacked my nostrils, as my mother pulled me in for a hug.

"What are you smiling at?!" She cooed at me, tenderness in her willowy eyes.

"Nothing, mom," I rolled my own pair, grin still very evident on my face as she welcomed me into the house.

She'd instantly taken to fussing over me, stroking hair, asking if I had been keeping well and berating me for not calling her in weeks. It was a flaw of mine, one that she loathed, the fact that I was awful at keeping in touch. I saw my dad daily at work, so I never had to try too hard with him.

"I hope you've got a good excuse for being so late," she teased as we meandered up the hallway. Once we reached the dining room, it would no longer just be us; but her new family too. I liked to pretend that I still had my mom back, even if just for a few short moments. 

"Last minute gift wrapping," I smirked, trailing behind her. I think Annie would have argued that I had been unwrapping, instead. I wondered what she'd be doing now, or if her family would be teasing her about the hickies. She must have got her sense of humour from them. I wondered if they'd be asking questions about me, or if she'd be thinking of my smile, like I was thinking about hers.

I considered mentioning Annie's name, speaking her into the reality of my family life. I'd no doubt made a precarious impression on hers, so I at least wanted to give her the reassurance of a warm reception with mine. 

Securing my teeth down on my bottom lip, I had to stop myself. I was getting far too ahead of myself - but that was probably just a side effect of my head going straight over my heels. 

"I should bloomin' well hope so too!" Mom scolded me with a laugh, as we turned into the sitting room. "Your poor lovely girlfriend has had to play charades with the kiddies for nearly an hour while we waited for you!"

It was a joke, surely, but not one that I understood.

I didn't have a girlfriend. And my last one certainly hadn't been lovely. 

"What d'ya mean?" I laughed politely, and a little bit awkwardly.

And then I saw her. Sitting there. On my mom's couch. 

"Men, what are they like?" My mom joked with her, nudging her shoulder gently as she made her way through to the kitchen, leaving just the pair of us in the sitting room. "He'd forget his own head if it wasn't screwed on!"

I didn't even want to acknowledge her, or give her the time of day. She was shameless.

"What are you doing here?" I hissed underneath my breath, smiling towards my mom as she glanced over at us with a grin. 

I hadn't called my bloody mother. I'd never told her we'd ended. I was a fucking idiot. 

"If you'd have bothered replying to me, you would have known. Your mom invited me, because someone didn't tell her they'd left me."

"If you hadn't have cheated on me, maybe I'd be more willing to answer your texts. Might have even stayed with you."

"Oh, grow up," Tiff sneered. Green lights dappled her skin, reflecting the festive decor mom had layered the room in.  "We both know you had the hots for that reporter anyway. What does it matter if I did?"

"Leave Annie out of this," I snapped. I thought Annie had shown me the meaning of 'seeing red', but I'd never really been that angry around her. In fact, I didn't think I'd ever actually been angry at all with her. Now? I really was seeing red. Fury seethed over my body. She had no right being here. 

"Are you together? Is that why you've been ignoring me?"

"None of your god damn-"

"Sweetheart, can you help me in the kitchen?" Mom called out, bashing pots and pans about on the hob. "You too, Tiff sweetie."

"This conversation isn't over," I seethed, throwing her one last filthy look. The only reason I hadn't thrown her out entirely had been for mom's sake.  I knew she would have been preparing this meal for days. My discomfort would pass, but her disappointment would be held like a grudge. She was good at those. At least that's what my dad said.

Coming into the kitchen with a smile, I grabbed the oven gloves. "Potatoes need turning?"

"I swear you're a mind reader, " she grinned sweetly, eyes filled with adoration. Yeah, there was no way I was fucking this day up for her. 

"It's this big old nose of mine, I can sniff out a good potato from a mile away. You know that by now, mom."

"Mmmm, don't I just! You should have seen him as a child, Tiff sweetie," she said with a smile, turning to the leech stood beside me as I turned the potatoes in goose fat. Reaching for the salt, I shook my head fondly at the memories.

"I just really enjoyed a good roast potato, what's the harm in that?" I grinned, trying to keep the conversation light. 

"There's enjoying roast potatoes, and then there's having an entire plate full of them with a teaspoon of peas and half a pint of gravy! That was the last time I ever let him serve his own Christmas dinner," she laughed, reciting childhood anecdotes to someone who didn't deserve to know any of them.

Had it been Annie here, she would have quipped some witty remark, teasing me further. She'd have laughed with my mom, sharing her own tall tales of me and my odd behaviours. I'd have protested, claimed Annie was full of shit, and then I would have kissed her while no one was looking to say thank you for being such a good sport.

"I think four roast potatoes is enough," was Tiff's feeble response. "Any more than that is too much."

"Too much is never enough," I tried to banter, but it would have made no difference. Tiff's brain just wasn't built for the kind of humour ingrained in me. That should have been the first red flag, really.

"Oh, I almost forgot!" Mom cheekily nodded to the ceiling above us. My eyes followed and instantly wished they hadn't. Strung up above us was a small sprig of jade green leaves and pearly white berries: mistletoe. "C'mon love birds, you know the tradition! One for the photo album." 

No.

No, no, no, no, no.

"It's cringey," I deflected, trying to weasel my way out of the position I was in.

Tiff's cold, spindly hands clasped the sides of my face. I had always hated her hands and how cold they were, come rain or shine. She never warmed up, but I supposed snakes like her were meant to be cold-blooded. 

Her lips were on mine, nose crushed awkwardly as my eyes scrunched together, uncomfortable with having someone else so close to them. There was a flash of a camera, and then it was over.

Tiff pulled away, no doubt smug with herself. I stood, stuck, still, eyes not budging open.

"Oh look at him," my mom cooed. 

It was evident how little time she had spent with me in the last few years. 

This wasn't a face to find endearing; it was the face I pulled when I was in pain. My eyes wouldn't open, because my brain was focusing too many of its resources on the source of the pain. "Still stunned that you want to kiss him after all this time!"

Tiff giggled and started spewing some bullshit about how I was always like this.

Like thick strums of a harp string, the tugging sensation I had become so familiar was back. Except this time, there was no relief as they pinged back. 

They didn't ping at all. 

They dragged down and down and down until they snapped.

"Shit," I winced, thumb and middle finger pinching either side of my bridge, digging into my tear ducts. "Shit, shit, shit."

"What are you doing?" Tiff sneered, baffled by my staggered posture. I was hunched over, the hand that wasn't massaging my eyes holding me balanced against the kitchen counter. White noise rang in my ears like the flatline of a heartrate monitor, nauseating and never-ending.

Chest heaving, sweat collecting on my sternum, I was breathing too heavily to string any words together. 

Pain throbbed through my veins, threatening to burst. Tucked into my back pocket, my phone twinged and vibrated. 

Annie. It had to be Annie. 

Oh god, it stung like a bitch.

"Jungkook, sweetie, what's happening?" My mom came to my side, placing a hand on my back. 

I knew it had been in a bid to comfort me, but I hated the idea of her seeing my face twisted and contorted in such a way. Tears had begun to seep, rinsing my sockets like sandpaper. 

It hurt. 

It fucking hurt. 

"Open your eyes for me, honey."

"I can't," I said through gritted teeth, barely a whisper beneath tortured sobs. 

Physically? Yeah, that was probably a lie.

But mentally? I couldn't bring myself to do it. I couldn't. I just couldn't.

"You can," her flat palm rubbed in circles, coaxing the despondency out of me. 

"I think I should go," Tiff finally said. Her voice was quiet, obviously not having anticipated such a response from me. It had just been a kiss, and she'd kissed me a thousand times over when we had been together.

"No, sweetheart, i-"

"Yeah, you should," I interrupted my mother. Inhaling sharply, I winced at the pain that consumed my entire vessel.

Neither of them said anything for a moment. It was impossible to know what to say.

Tiff's boots clicked out of the room and down the hallway, lifting a small weight from my shoulders - but only a very minuscule one. 

It was just me and my mom. I felt like a fucking child.

"C'mon, sweetheart."  

My lashes were soaked, cold against my skin as my tears began to evaporate. Slowly, my eyes began to flicker upwards. 

They focused on my hands first. Ashy against a black granite worktop. 

No.

The splashback tiles were next. Smokey grey. 

No, no, no.

And then on my mother. Monotone.

This can't be happening.

Her bewildered eyes were dark black voids, and I wanted them to swallow me up.

"I've lost them," I spoke slowly, brows painfully furrowed, tense jaw aching. "They're gone."

"What are you on about sweetheart?!"

Sinking down against the counter, I let out a sob. It was louder this time, harsher. What was the point in trying to keep myself composed? It was done now. Fucking done.

"My colours. My Multivision. It's gone."

The front door clicked open, and then shut again. Like a tornado, Tiff had shown up uninvited and unannounced, only to destroy everything in her path and leave again.

"Oh, honey," she gasped, not knowing what to say. There was nothing she could say. Nothing could make this better.

"What's all the racket about?" My step-father strolled into the room and my god, I wanted to yell at him to just  fuck off.

But what was the use?

My eyes trailed around the room, painfully adjusting to the word I thought I'd left behind.

My names Jeon Jungkook, the voice in my head echoed hauntingly. 

My lips shivered, as I whispered the sentence out loud.

"And I'm a Mono."

A/N: wrote the end of this while listening to You Were Beautiful by DAY6 and when i tell u i nearly cried... lmao