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"20, 21, 22, 23." Jungkook has been at this for hours. His palms pale and his face beet red, dripping with sweat that makes his hair stick to his skin in such an uncomfortable manner. He's been here since 3 in the afternoon. It's 8 now and most people have already left. It's just him, in his own little world, listening to music too loud to be good for his hearing.
The pain was unbearable, but Jungkook saw it as fitting. If he was hurting so bad on the inside, why shouldn't it be the same on the outside?
The elevator was the last time Iris and Jungkook really spoke to each other, really spoke. Words beyond "good morning" and "how are you" were non-existent. Glances here and there at her when they happened to cross paths. The longing he got to say something more to her but his words always failed him, caught in his throat until he choked.
For the first few days, he had spent his time in depression. Lying on his couch eating all the junk he would have never dared to eat before. Playing video games, never studying, utterly pathetic. Then he got tired of that, tired of lying around like a sad sack of shit, feeling sorry for himself. He loved Iris to Hell and back and he made a mistake. She wouldn't love him like this and he hated feeling the way he did while laying lifeless on his couch.
So instead, he spent copious amounts of time getting out his frustration by way of working out, trying his best to study even when it all felt so impossible. Because how was he supposed to have her like him if he didn't even like himself?
His hands gripped the metal of the bar as he hefted them up once more. "30." He dropped the weights. He hated deadlifting, broke his foot once when he was 18 by accidentally dropping the weights on it. Jungkook grabbed his towel and sat down on a nearby bench, and began to wipe his face. Between that, he pulled off the straps of his waist belt.
Jungkook's music was interrupted by a notification of a text message. He almost broke his neck to see if it was Iris, always hopeful that maybe this would be repairable. After all, she didn't see the video. She said she didn't. They'd get out of this rut and be back just the way they were. Him pining hopelessly after her, hoping to win her over with a pretty smile, some gourmet food, and his other various charms. Iris rolling her eyes at him but never fully shutting him down because even if she doesn't like him, she likes the attention he gives her, how utterly devoted he is to her.
They were just two horribly broken people, hoping to find all they were missing in their lives by way of each other.
It wasn't Iris. It was his mom.
I want you to come have dinner with me on Saturday. 6 on.
No events he needed to help set up for? No important business meeting he had to show up for and put on a smile for? As sad as it was to say, Jungkook felt a little suspicious that his mother wanted just to have dinner with him. They didn't even have family dinners when he was a kid. He'd just eat his dinner in his room. So now, for maybe the first time in his entire life, she wanted to have a simple dinner? There was something wrong here.
