Elaine

"My workshop's on fire."

I'm spellbound. I'm confused. I'm shaken.

No matter what I would say at this moment, no word, no sentence, no sympathy can show how helpless I am. Did my ears even hear correctly? Am I sure that my brain is not still asleep and has not misunderstood everything? Is this a bad joke or am I in a dream right now?

My hands, which are engulfing Jungkook's cold cheeks, slowly fall down and swing along my sides until they come to a halt. His eyes are so empty, so taken by surprise that I see nothing alive in them. It is as if I'm looking into the eyes of a mannequin. I have so many question marks in my head, but I can't bring myself to face them. Not that he would even be able to answer them anyway.

My gaze falls on the phone that lies on the floor between us with a broken display. It's still lit, so I bend down to pick it up. Pressing it to my ear, I hope that the person who called him is still on the line so I can clear things up. I can't let my shock take me by surprise now and I need to be the person who keeps a cool head so I can be of help to Jungkook.

"Hello? Hello!" I call into the phone, but all I hear are just loud noises in the background. Jungkook moves abruptly from the spot, tossing on his pants and shirt, while I try to get someone on the line to talk before the person hangs up. Jungkook storms out of the bedroom and I hear him sprinting down the stairs two at a time with hasty steps, me after him in my pajamas.

"Jungkook, wait!" I shout as I hear the front door slamming shut, grabbing my keys, I run after him.

My hands tremble as I race down the stairs instead of taking the elevator to the entrance, my breath falls heavy and chopped off. Considering that I woke up only a few minutes ago, I surprisingly quickly reach the main entrance and catch Jungkook still getting into the car and starting the engine. Not thinking twice, I rip open the passenger door and jump into the car.

"What are you doing? Go back, Elaine!" he orders, his eyes stern, and the shock of a few minutes ago wiped away. If I'm honest, his deep and harsh tone intimidates me so much that I sink into the seat, but I don't take a step back. Not now.

"No. I won't leave you alone," I retort, our eyes locked in a quiet staring contest. I can't just let him go alone when he needs me most and pace around the house worried sick. We are in this together.

He slackens off, probably because he could sense the stubbornness in my eyes and because he doesn't want to waste another minute unnecessarily discussing with me, he puts the car in forwarding gear and races out of the parking space without paying attention to the road. My body sinks into the seat with every passing second that Jungkook presses the accelerator pedal even harder and I have to hold on to the door for my dear life.

The way we race through the streets makes my organs jump around with adrenaline, but I don't dare to tell him to slow down. The buildings are whizzing past us, so I can't even fix my surroundings before my field of vision has a new environment in front of it. When Jungkook made me confess my feelings for him back then, I felt a similar fear, only it is much greater now. I knew that he would stop back then if it didn't come to a confession, but now, at this moment, there is nothing that can stop him.

His eyes focus on nothing but the road and the determination to be there as soon as possible seems to eat his thoughts alive. I want to know how he feels, what he thinks, what he will do. I want to reach for his hand and tell him that everything will change for the better, but I can't. I don't know what exactly is going on or if the call is even legitimate.

One thing I'm sure of, though, is that he is shaken. The workshop means as much to him as I can't estimate and if the caller was telling the truth and it is really on fire, I don't want to know how Jungkook will react to the scene when we get there. Out of my peripheral vision, I see how Jungkook's hands both grip the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles turn white. I can't seem to swallow the lump in my throat, caused by the dryness, which resembles a desert, as I turn my head slightly towards him and my heart beats faster than before.

I forget that we are driving much faster than allowed and even over a red light as I catch sight of his furrowed eyebrows and his mouth pressed into a straight line as if he wanted to stop himself from bursting into tears. So many emotions radiate from him, even though no words pass his lips. Not being able to stand his condition, I turn back to the front again and notice that we have arrived too quickly. A right turn into the street of the workshop throws my body powerfully towards the center of the car, that I hit the console with my elbow, but I don't feel the pain.

Even from a distance, we could hear the sirens despite the roaring engine and when we turn into the street our faces are illuminated by the bright warm light. My eyes widen and my mouth falls open as I see the big flames blowing out of the windows and the gates of the workshop, angry and vigorous.

"No." he whispers, his voice broken.

Pulling up closer, Jungkook tears the driver's door open after jerkily braking and dashes out of the car, not caring to turn off the engine. He stumbles over his own legs, which in this situation are making it difficult for him to reach the scene of the incident like shaky strings. I run after him, but he leaves me behind with his strong legs as he pushes his muscles to their limit, his lungs begging for oxygen, but he ignores everything, only the thought of getting to his workshop clouding his mind.

The short distance between his car and the workshop lengthens with every second. It's as if the asphalt under our feet is stretching like elastic, making us drift away from our destination, deceiving time in its game as it also seems to slow down, beating us in a time-space contradiction. I observe a lot in this short time, the firemen trying to extinguish the hot flames with their thick hoses, the policemen who have scattered, some helping some investigating, a few neighbors watching the chaotic scene with their pitying and worried eyes. My ears perceive another fire truck turning into the street with the already loud noises and shouts, and a shiver runs down my spine at the thought that the fire is so severe that not even one fire truck is enough.

My head spins with the screams from the fire truck racing past me to the voice I'm familiar with. The voice that I love to hear, but not now, not at this moment in these circumstances. Jungkook is held back by two policemen and is desperately trying to get inside the workshop. His heart-wrenching screams echo in my ears and sting my heart. Fighting to hold him back, two more policemen join in, grabbing Jungkook by his arms. He lashes out like an innocent animal locked in a cage, tortured to accept its fate.

"Please let me pass. I'm the owner, this is my workshop," he cries, so much pain hidden behind every word that deafens all ears due to his razor-sharp calls. "I can help. Please!"

"No, sir. You can't pass, it's too dangerous!" All four men wrestle heavily against him. But the desperation and helplessness give Jungkook such enormous strength that even I fear to try to hold him back.

"Please! It's all I have."

And that's when I feel it. A keen pain, sharp as broken glass, sitting deep in my chest, tearing my organs apart and making it difficult for me to breathe. That little sentence that carries so much weight, so much despair, so much suffering. I know how much the workshop means to him. It is more than just a workplace for him, more than just the source for his daily meal. It was given to him by Uncle Haeseong, knowing that Jungkook would keep it up with all he has. It is the reason that Jungkook was able to build a new life for himself, to escape from his past and now he has to watch it all burn down before his eyes.

Everything he has built up over the years, even after Uncle Haeseong's death, all the memories, his home. Simply everything falls like dust in this dark hour. The flames that furiously rise high into the dark night sky from every direction don't warm us up like the sun on a happy day. No, they burn everything down, showing no mercy and with every second, consuming even more like a hungry lion. Everything is out of control, Jungkook's fight against the policemen, who still try to restrain him, the fire, which ignites more and more and my thoughts, lost and no relation to the outside world, desperate and helpless, like a good-for-nothing, useless.

We are in a mess.

Figuring out how to go on, how everything is supposed to be rebuilt, whether there are any residues left that can be built up at all, is skull-crushing. But what is even more shattering is the thought that Jungkook could have been injured. If he hadn't stayed with me, if I had actually fallen asleep and hadn't had the chance to stop him from leaving, Jungkook could have been killed. He could die and I would have to struggle with his emptiness and the guilt for the rest of my life. And before I even realize it, a hot tear runs down my cheek, its trail of residue on the way to my chin burning on my skin until its place is taken by new tears that constantly sting me. I can't and don't want to think about losing Jungkook.

My legs, which were glued to the floor below me, move over to him by themselves, who is now a little steadier but still begging to be let by, his hands tugging at his hair, frustratedly pulling at the curls as he paces back and forth. My shaky hand raises, heavy as a rock that can't be moved from its spot, and gently grabs him by his shoulder. Among all the policemen, he notices my delicate hand on his skin despite the fabric of his shirt, halting in his steps, as his head shoots back to me. My eyes sting with the newly formed non-flowing tears as I look into his matching ones.

His eyebrows are raised in the middle, his eyes shine with the moisture that he refuses to let flow, and with our meeting gaze, his lower lip starts to quiver. It hurts me so much to see him like this. I want to see him smile, I want to see his eyes shine for joy and not for misery. It must be eating him up inside just standing there and not being able to do anything. Watching the flames swallow his hard work and all his belongings, turning them into ashes.

Allowing his arms to fall to his side, his shoulders are dragged along with them. Unable to contain the emotions and grief, his head drops down and his shoulders begin to shake with his quiet sobs. There are no tears flowing, but he gives up, he gives up fighting because at this point there is nothing more he can do. He gives up because he thinks he has disappointed Uncle Haeseong, he gives up because he thinks that with a blowing wind the ashes will be swept away, taking everything he loves with it.

I don't know how long we have been standing here, how long the fire has been raging, but the next moment all I perceive is how Jungkook's legs lose their strength and he falls to his knees. Beaten by the hopelessness, his head hangs low, his hands resting between his thighs and his upper body bent forward, small like an abandoned child. I kneel next to him, my hands running through his hair, because I don't know how else to comfort someone in such a situation.

What am I supposed to say?

What am I supposed to do?

How can I make him feel better than just being by his side?

I need more than just words, sentences that are formed to comfort someone, but are actually nothing more than empty words that have no hold of the truth. Will it make him feel better if I tell him it's okay? That everything will be just fine? I doubt it.

Jungkook leans into my touch, surrendering to the tiredness caused by constant disappointment and I squeeze him into my chest, pressing him firmly against me with the hope that my presence will give him the strength he needs not to collapse completely. My hands embrace his face, my fingertips caressing the skin in a soothing manner as we watch the flames of torture rise to the sky. The sparks float around like little stars, but much darker than the ones we watched in the sky.

"This is all I have," he chokes out in a small voice.

My eyes are burning, but whether this burning is caused by the bright, hot flames or by the stinging tears, is something even I can't tell.

_________________________

By the time the fire finally died out after almost two long hours, Jungkook's friends and Nora arrived at the workshop. The firefighters are still trying to put out a small fire at the back entrance while the police are looking for causes. An ambulance was sent for emergency cases, in which Jungkook is now sitting with a blanket around his shoulders. He looks worn out, his face pale, his lips cracked and dark circles around his eyes shading his features.

"Mr. Jeon?" a policeman calls for Jungkook and we all jump on our feet, Jungkook quickly running over to him. We stare at him with hopeful eyes, encouraging him to continue.

"The fire department has finally managed to extinguish the fire completely. So far, we, unfortunately, have no information about how the fire broke out. Since your property is a car repair shop, we can only make a more precise statement when further investigations have been initiated. Do you perhaps have a suspicion about the cause? Maybe a smell of gasoline that was stronger than usual, tools or machines that you left on, kitchen appliances, anything?" he asks, but with every hint, Jungkook shakes his head. I can confirm that Jungkook is very attentive and cautious, he doesn't leave the workshop without having double-checked everything.

"Can you imagine this being arson?" the police officer pushes, taking note with every answered question and that's when Jungkook answers rather too fast than expected. He denies the issue, his form clearly stiffening as his hands form into firm fists.

"All right. I wrote everything down and so did the fire department. If we can provide more details about the investigation, you will get a call from us. You can't enter the workshop for the time being, because, as I said, we are not sure of the cause and the chances of arson," the tall and middle-aged policeman exhales. "Go home and get some rest. It has been an exhausting night."

Patting on his shoulder, the policeman walks away, leaving us in silence. No one says anything, no one looks at each other, all have their eyes and their heads lowered. Nobody finds comfort in the presence of the other, for all of us the workshop had major importance because despite the short time of knowing each other we had a lot of fun and beautiful nights. Jungkook slowly takes one step after the other, passing us by, and moves to his car where he gets into the passenger seat, probably too tired to do anything at all. I give everyone else a grateful smile because they came and stood by us at this time of night.

"Elaine," Taehyung calls out, stopping me just as I was about to walk to the car. "I can take Jungkook to my place if you want. You can rest."

"Thanks, Tae, but that's not necessary. I probably won't be able to sleep anyway." I force a smile that doesn't reach my eyes and Taehyung presses his lips into a straight line giving me a reassuring hug before I leave everyone with a head nod.

The drive back to my apartment takes ages. I don't know what today is all about, but everything seems to be in slow motion and I'm going crazy with each deafening second in this car. I'm not used to sitting in an uncomfortable silence with Jungkook, usually we have stupid conversations or the silence is a pleasant one. Leaning his head against the windowpane, Jungkook's eyes are paved to the street, but it doesn't seem like his surroundings bother him.

Not muttering a single word, he gets out of the car after I parked it in the previous parking space and disappears inside the building. I nibble on my lower lip, allowing myself a few seconds in the car to pull myself together. A quivering breath leaves my lips as I gather all my strength and follow him.

The door is slightly ajar for me to enter and I feel for the first time in my own apartment how heavy the air is and I would rather be somewhere else than locked up between these four walls. Jungkook is nowhere in sight so I guess he is upstairs. Climbing slowly up the stairs I reach the bedroom where he has crawled into a little ball on my bed, his back turned to me.

I can't stand the sight and when new tears threaten to fall I quickly turn around and find myself back in the living room. It is hard to see such a strong man like Jungkook so hurt and helpless. It breaks my heart and it makes me feel useless because there is nothing I can do about it. I throw my head back after sitting down on my sofa and close my eyes to block the salty drops.

The morning arrives sooner than expected as the first birds start to chirp and the sun already brightens up the day. I couldn't sleep, but the tiredness and mourning must have sent me into a slumber at some point as I jump up from the slight sound of a closing door. I look around me to check my surroundings and see Jungkook slowly walking down the stairs, his eyes drowsy and his cheeks puffy.

My heart races with uncertainty as to how I should approach him. My tongue seems to be knotted and my brain is unable to form sentences. He heads for the door where he starts to put on his shoes and I take cautious steps towards him.

"Where are you going?" I ask, beating myself internally for this stupid question as if I have nothing better to say. He doesn't answer and I wait expectantly, twirling my fingers in front of my stomach and biting my lower lip.

"Don't wait for me." is simply all he says before he leaves me alone in this now far too big apartment.

I didn't realize that I started crying until a tear that ran down my cheek drops on my linked fingers. It hurts me even more because he didn't even look me in the eye before he left. He was purposely avoiding me, which is why my heart is tightening in my chest right now. His voice was cold and emotionless. His movements hard and impatient as if he had to throw himself out of the apartment in order to breathe again.

I can sympathize with him. He wants to be alone, probably sorting out his thoughts or looking for a fix. But why does it feel so empty? Am I being selfish if I want him to stay with me so I can hold him in my arms, feel his warmth and closeness?

The deafening silence in my apartment and the ticking of the clock in the near distance seem to mock me, the walls coming towards me, locking me inside their four sides.

And little did I know that I would spend my nights here alone many more times, worries and loneliness swallowing me up.