𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫. | BTS |

chapter 72 ~ 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒐𝒖𝒕

CONTAINS STRONG LANGUAGE, ALCOHOL CONSUMPTION, ABUSE, MINOR FLUFF, & ANGST

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     It was the day after Kiana had stopped by to visit. Less of a visit and more of an interrogation. She'd pestered me with all kinds of questions regarding mainly my health and whether or not I was caring for myself during the gloomy days I lay locked up in my room, but she'd also questioned me on all the things I'd stumbled upon before Rachel's appearance at the airport. Matching her address with the one in Jungkook's Bentley, reading the texts she'd sent him the night I'd actually hung out with him as if everything were normal. How stupid of me.

     The brunette had also made me retell most stories of what Rachel put me through with Yura, using them as reasons to why she had gone after the maknae. She said that there might've been the chance that Rachel was out seeking revenge and that she'd gone after Jungkook to get to me. I'd considered it but forced the thought further back into my head the more I tried to rationalize it. Jungkook had cheated, there could be no other explanation. How else would he explain the texts she'd sent him? Calling him baby and claiming to miss him. How would he explain the words she'd purred so flirtatiously at the airline gate, dragging her nails down his forearm and rehashing the memory of the night he disappeared?

     Not only had I been interrogated by Kiana, but by Seokjin as well. The brunet had come in earlier the next afternoon with a fresh meal in his hands. He'd set them down on my nightstand, watching as I picked listlessly at the fresh fruit, before bombarding me with a series of questions about Rachel. Not to mention the question on how Yura used to spike my drinks to take advantage of me. I cursed Kiana silently for telling a stranger of such an intimate part of my abusive past, fisting my bedsheets as I shared very little on what Yura used to do to me. Seokjin seemed more interested in what Rachel had done anyways, so we'd quickly steered away from that memory and onto another.

     Now, I sat alone in the darkness of my bedroom, the clock ticking in at almost 11 PM as I stared blankly out into the empty blackness. It was so cold in my room, my door always shut preventing the circulation of heat from out in the hall to warm it. It was like lying inside of a refrigerator with the door shut.

     I craved the numbing feeling that I was so used to. After years of Yura's abuse, I'd grown a protective wall that prevented me from feeling pain whenever I was hurt, but living with Jimin and the others had eventually forced that wall to crumble. Leaving me a helpless, sobbing, aching mess. I sniffled back tears that had dried against my crimson cheeks, fisting my bedsheets against my chest as my brain refused to shut off for the day.

     With a sigh, I tossed my sheets off of my shivering body, sitting bolt upright as I rubbed at my eyes. I was so sick of feeling. Shakily, I pushed myself to my feet, angrily adjusting the clothes on my body before padding quietly downstairs. My stomach felt unsettled and I knew that the only solution was a good night's sleep and a decent meal, but I still walked into the kitchen and to the fridge just to pull out a bottle of soju. And, another. And, another. 

     My vision grew blurry, my steps uneven, as I swayed back and forth between the fridge and the kitchen island. I managed to dump the empty glass bottles into the recycling bin, collecting two more bottles before stumbling back upstairs. Tears gathered in my eyes and began to flow down my cheeks as the alcohol forced my thoughts over the edge. I just wanted everything to be over and done with. I wanted to stop hurting so badly. I wanted to go home.

     Home.

     A smile formed on my face as I thought of my old home back in America. Before I met Jimin. Before Yoongi. Before Rachel. Before Yura. When I lived with my roommate back in California and we both attended the best college in our county. When my biggest concern in life was trying to pay my tuition and deal with irritating customers at my job at the mall. Saving myself from abuse, from manipulation and cheating, wasn't even in the back of my mind. My drunken smile grew wider as I realized that the happy life I once lived was no more and that I would never feel that way ever again.