https://youtu.be/_A0Beo0M-tQ

The Wisp Sings - Winter Aid

Things were looking up for the artist. The next two cheques Jungkook received for his paintings were through the mail. He had been slightly disappointed and equally relieved that Jimin hadn't delivered them himself. There were no words exchanged between Jimin and Jungkook for the next month and a half. Avoiding Jimin was easy. Things were forgettable if the man of his uninterrupted desire was out of sight.

His paintings had gone for a price heftier than he had anticipated. The administration had set a cost on every piece, but his role was only to propose the amount he wanted. The management, i.e., Jimin and a few gallery shareholders, added additional expenses, including taxes, amounting to approximately twenty percent more. Then there was the dynamic profit margin, the asking price, which was way higher than the cost incurred in creating the pieces.

That was why Jungkook was shocked that he had made his yearly salary by selling only three pieces in just a few weeks.

He wanted to invite his parents over to his apartment to celebrate, but he dreaded going to the team dinner they had combined with Jimin's birthday celebration later that night. He wished he could just bail, but he also didn't want to, not when the man himself specially invited him. Those sorts of things were under Mingyu's purview, but Jimin must've wanted to make sure that he went.

Closing the shop upstairs, he walked down with a small backpack on his back and looked for Kijoo. She was scrolling on her phone. "You ready?" He asked.

She slightly jumped at his voice, startled. "Yeah, let's go."

Grabbing her bag, she quickly made her way towards the exit with Jungkook. "I have a scooter. I hope you don't mind."

"What?" Jungkook scowled, now spotting a key in her hand.

"Don't worry. I have an extra helmet you can use."

Jungkook had thought that they would hail a cab to the restaurant, but seeing Kijoo walking towards the small alleyway where a yellow scooter was parked changed plans a little. It had been a long time since he drove a car or rode a bike. He couldn't show his apprehension to the girl, though, regarding what she might think.

He walked slowly, unsurely. "Don't worry," Kijoo was already tightening her helmet. She extended the spare one to Jungkook and straddled the front leather seat, taking hold of the handlebars. "I won't make you fall."

Oh, hell no.

Jungkook stared wide-eyed. There was no way he was sitting behind her.

"What?" Kijoo frowned, the cogs in her brain tumbling in tandem with Jungkook's reservation. "Don't be that man."

"What man?"

"Who thinks he is less masculine because he is sitting behind a woman on a bike?"

"I didn't say that."

"You thought that," Kijoo said pointedly. "It's pasted all over your face like bad news."

"Fine," Jungkook thought it, but what made him waver more was second-guessing Kijoo's driving skills. "If you promise to safely deliver me in one piece, I will shut up and sit. You don't know who my father is in case I die."

Kijoo's head tipped back with a loud chortle, and Jungkook smiled at his newfound ability to joke as he mounted behind her.

They laughed their way to the venue, and Jungkook realized that it had been years since he laughed so freely and had stupid fun. He didn't share the emotional bond with Kijoo, but he was happy in that moment, and it made him think of Ulrich.

They could see the numerous familiar cars outside the restaurant in the parking lot, indicating that everyone had already arrived.

Jungkook spotted three acquainted faces and one familiar back as they barged in. He stepped closer to where they were sitting, his heart immediately racing.

Jimin traced the eyes of his colleagues sitting in front of him and turned to see Jungkook with Kijoo.

"Happy birthday, Jimin."

"Thank you," Jimin admired Jungkook's outfit with a once-over. "Take a seat." He made space near him as the other side was full.

Jungkook prompted Kijoo to sit next to Jimin, and sat beside her. A few of them were already drinking. "Order your drinks. I'll be right back." Jimin told the two and got up with his phone.

As he walked away and took the call from the hospital, his eyes found Jungkook talking to people. He had a mask in place, not giving anything more than socially necessary. He looked different not only in a physical sense of the world but also in every other way. He stood taller and silent, like he was carrying the weight of the world, fighting it so it didn't crush him. His smile was faint, and his laughs guarded, like he was hiding a story no one would ever understand.

The young man had been on his mind for years, but not in a way like he was since he came thrashing into his life again. Jimin could be meeting with renowned doctors, and the thought of Jungkook would be running through his mind like a goddamn act of rebellion. It wouldn't be specific about anything, but he was always acutely aware of the man who had brought about a drastic change in his life.

Jimin needed to seize a moment before it slipped away to kick him into regret. He, for some reason, enjoyed his position outside Jungkook's field of vision as he looked at him with longing. He missed the boy tonight, who was once the life of any party. In fact, any party's success used to greatly depend on Jungkook's gimmicks. He now seemed to blend with the quiet shadows as Jimin watched, a poundage on his chest.

He craved conversation from Jungkook with debilitating ferocity. He'd also take five minutes; he just needed to talk to him. 

Finishing the telephonic conversation, he returned to the table, and his eyes took in Jungkook, who gripped his condensed mug of beer tightly. He was perceptive of Jungkook's breathing. Someone said something. Somebody else added another comment, and Jimin only got that they wanted him to open the champagne bottle. He willed a smile on his face and popped the cork, noting the way Jungkook slightly jumped in surprise.

"Happy 29th birthday!" A howl reverberated.

"Thank you!" Jimin laughed. "Who is not driving later?" He asked, making sure only to serve people who wouldn't be driving. A few raised their hands to his right, but Jungkook didn't. It didn't matter because Jimin knew Jungkook wasn't going to drive, so he twisted his torso to his left and slid an empty glass to him.

Jungkook's left hand slightly trembled as he lifted it for his boss to pour from the bottle. Jimin wondered if it was due to the anger the younger was amassing inside him by tolerating his presence, which was rendering him so unstable.

For the rest of the dinner, they didn't say anything to each other directly unless it was to answer something that other people from the group asked. The party wasn't quiet, but the distance between them was.

After a few rounds of drinks, people shuffled from their original places, getting into deeper conversations and forming numerous smaller groups. Jimin stayed in his place, talking to a doctor on his right, his attention and awareness also on Jungkook.

"Mingyu-ssi... I've been meaning to ask, but I was forgetting it whenever you were in the gallery. Would you help me get the details of my painting buyers?" He asked the manager.

Mingyu nodded and put the drink down, patting Jungkook with a congratulatory remark once again, who nodded politely.

The team dinners were always a way for Jimin to get to know people who worked for him, but for the first time, he lost interest in the trail of talks. He texted Rosenow.

Is Iseul asleep?

Just slept. When are you home?

I think everyone will take at least an hour more to wind up. You should go to sleep, too.

I would, but it's your birthday, and you aren't even home with us to celebrate.

Jimin huffed deprecatingly. Since he hadn't told Rosenow about Jungkook yet, he wasn't feeling like himself anymore. The kind of guilt he had experienced in the uni returned, only ten times stronger. What would he even say now when he hadn't in the last suffocating six years, when he was desperate and looking for the man sitting in front of him, yet seemed oceans apart?

It's my first birthday after I started my venture. You know it's important. From next year, I will spend all my birthdays at home. I promise.

:) :)

Drive safely. I think I'll just pass out since I have that early interview tomorrow.

I remember. That's why I asked you to go to sleep. See you.

I love you.

Love you too.

Jungkook's eyes were on him when Jimin locked the phone, but he was quick to look away and stand up. "I'll be right back." He told the group of people who weren't paying attention and headed to the men's room.

Getting inside the bathroom with two cubicles and relieving himself, Jungkook realized how hard his heart was hammering. Why did he have to look at Jimin when he was acting perfectly aloof all evening?

He had to be a sucker for punishment as he let his mind wander if Rosenow was the one Jimin was texting. He huffed at himself mockingly as he paced to the sink to wash his hands, thinking, of course, he would text his wife.

The door opened and closed, and he didn't care to look at the reflection of the person in the front mirror, but when Jimin stood behind him, he could feel the presence, all-consuming. The hair on his nape tingled, and he turned around.

"I have to talk to you."

"Jimin-"

"Just listen to me," Jimin pressed impatiently.

Jungkook was breathing hard as Jimin watched him, stunned and disarrayed as he turned to face the man. "I bought your paintings."

Jungkook bit his bottom lip, beginning to nibble on it.

"I know I should've told you, but you are still not ready to talk to me. I couldn't find the right moment to bring this up."

"Say something, Jungkook!" Jimin expressed with urgency after waiting for a few beats, his body shaky.

Jungkook only looked down, thinking.

"If you are angry, tell me. If you want to take a swing at me, I won't move from my place. Hit me." Jimin tried his best to get some reaction out of the artist.

"I am not angry. I am just...dispirited." Jungkook spoke softly.

It was Jimin's turn to be quiet as he waited for more.

A tear dropped from Jungkook's eye, which he didn't bother to hide, and Jimin was in shambles suddenly. Seeing the proof of hurt he had imparted from Jungkook's eyes obliterated him, and the way his chest clenched shocked him.

He'd seen the boy cry before. The agony of seeing Jungkook cry now was something he'd never known. Not like this.

When the younger hadn't looked Jimin in the eyes for more than a handful of seconds, he darted into Jimin's eyes and held eye contact for the first time since their last dance together. "Imagine a chef prepares all night and cooks all day in the hope that his food will feed the patrons. Now, imagine you bought all that food. It didn't go to the needy. The chef will never find out if his food was even worth it. You weren't even hungry and possibly didn't finish eating everything. To a chef, it was a pain that went in vain."

"Jungkook," Frost coursed through his veins, and Jimin took a step closer to Jungkook, thinking about his next move. Guilt dancing in his eyes, he noticed the mole under Jungkook's trembling lips.

He reached for Jungkook, but the man pushed past him, unaware that Jimin was coming apart at the seams. "Thanks for nothing, Jimin. You did it again. I hope you heal from the things you don't tell anyone."

Jimin felt the air infused with Jungkook's cologne on his face as the door swung closed by force. His breathing came quicker as he succumbed to something he had become familiar with lately. A panic attack.

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25 Aug, 2025