Jungkook's POV:

I don't know where I'm going, but I just need to get away. From them. From everything. I don't even care anymore. The argument, the words—how they all cut deeper than I ever thought possible. My throat tightens as the memories replay, over and over, like a broken record.

"Maybe they're right," I think bitterly. "Maybe I am just a burden to them."

I push my hands into my jacket pockets, and the cold air bites at my skin. But it doesn't matter. The chill outside is nothing compared to the one settling deep within me. The anger, the rejection—it's all too much to bear. Every step I take feels heavier than the last.

The memories start to flood in. I can't stop them. They're too vivid, too real.

We were in the studio, working on the new song. Everyone was throwing ideas around, but my words got lost in the noise. I had suggested a twist on the chorus—something different, something that might set the track apart. But no one seemed to care. 

Jimin kept scrolling through his phone, Taehyung fiddled with his guitar like I wasn't even there, and even Namjoon, who usually tries to encourage me, just nodded distractedly. I could see Jin glancing at me, but his eyes were blank like he had already moved on to the next idea in his head.

I kept waiting, hoping someone would look my way, maybe ask me to elaborate, maybe give me a chance to be heard. But that didn't happen. They just moved on as if I wasn't there. As if my idea didn't even matter.

I forced a smile, trying to shake off the sinking feeling in my chest, but it stayed there, heavy and suffocating. After a while, I just stopped trying. It was pointless to keep speaking if no one was going to listen.

"Am I invisible?"

"Why do I even try anymore? They don't need me."

This was after one of our performances. The euphoria of being on stage had dwindled down, leaving me hollow and exhausted. I used to build on adrenaline rush, but that night, it didn't work. I sat in the corner of the room as my mind started to cloud up with fatigue. Something inside me was breaking apart.

I wanted to tell someone how I was feeling, but no one seemed to notice. Jin, Jimin, and Taehyung were laughing at some joke they shared, their voices loud and easy, but I wasn't part of it. I didn't want to interrupt them; I just wanted someone to ask if I was okay. To care, just a little. I laughed with them, but it was empty—like I was watching myself from outside my own body.

I tried to brush it off, but the feeling continued to gnaw at me. So, I went to my room. The door clicked shut behind me, and I stood there in silence, staring at the walls. I wanted to scream. I wanted to be heard, but my voice wouldn't come.

That night, I looked in the mirror and did not recognize the person staring at me. My eyes seemed hollow, the way things looked before they got too bad.

"Why doesn't anyone care?"

"Why am I always the one who has to pretend everything is fine when no one even notices when I'm falling apart?"

I shake my head, pushing the memories away, but they cling to me, suffocating me. I try to move forward, but it's like the weight of everything is keeping me in place.

"Maybe they're right. Maybe I'm not good enough. Maybe I'll never be good enough."

The thought eats at me, gnawing away at my confidence. It's like I'm standing on the edge, looking down at a drop I can't escape.

I need to get out. I need someone to listen. So, I head to the company, to Sejin Hyung's office. Maybe, just maybe, he'll understand. Maybe he'll be the one to tell me I'm wrong, that I'm not the problem. That I matter.

I reach the building and head up to Sejin Hyung's office. I don't know what I'm going to say when I get there. I don't know if I'll even be able to say anything. But I need to talk to him. He's always been someone I looked up to, someone I thought would always be in my corner. Maybe he'll remind me that I'm important, that I'm not the problem.

Before I knock, I hear voices outside his office. I freeze.

"Do you think Jungkook is a burden?"

The question strikes like a lightning bolt. I can't move. I can't breathe.

Another voice answers, almost casually, almost like it's not a big deal. "I don't know... he's been different lately. Distant. It's like he's not really here anymore. I think he's just a little lost."

I swallow, trying to steady my breath. My heart is pounding in my chest.

"Yeah," the first voice continues. "And when we ask him about it, he's always so closed off. He just doesn't seem to care about anything anymore. It's starting to feel like a burden."

I can't believe what I'm hearing. Every word hits me like a slap across the face. A burden. That's what I am. That's all I am to them.

The silence from Sejin Hyung is what hurts the most. He doesn't say anything. Not a single word. He doesn't defend me. He doesn't even acknowledge that I might be struggling. I thought he would, but he doesn't.

I feel like I'm invisible like I'm just a shadow that no one even sees. No one cares.

The voices fade away, and I take a few shaky steps backwards. My mind is numb, my body heavy. I can't stay here anymore. I can't stay in a place where I'm not wanted, where I'm not even seen.

I walk out of the building, but it's like I'm walking in a dream. Everything feels distant, blurry. The air is colder than it should be, and the city lights feel too bright and too harsh.

I don't know where I'm going, but it doesn't matter. The world is fading away from me. The thought, "Maybe it's better if I just disappear," keeps repeating, louder and louder in my head. I don't fight it this time. I don't push it away.

I stand in the middle of the street, the lights blurring around me. "What's the point of fighting? What's the point of even trying?" I think, feeling the weight of everything collapse on top of me.

For the first time in a long time, I don't feel like fighting the darkness. I feel it swallow me whole.

"Maybe I'm just not worth it."