Take My Hand | KNJ ONE-SHOTS & IMAGINES

Drunk Drivin'

Min Yoongi feels nothing as he speeds up the highway. It's been like this for a while now. Is it sad that he never really noticed when he started to become numb? It's just like, one day he finally snapped: whoa; I don't feel anything anymore.

Yoongi would never admit this to his friends, but he's not scared to die. He could drive off the road and plow straight into a light pole and he wouldn't really care. Would he have any regrets about how he's lived his life? Perhaps. Maybe a few.

Yoongi guns the engine, pushing his Corvette even harder. The engine roars as he flies forward with a burst of speed. He reaches over, picks up his 42 ounce cup filled with straight tequila and takes a healthy swig, smiling as the burn rips down his throat and into his chest. He shudders, grunting as the fire in his chest dulls slightly. The road in front of him warps and twists, like a reflection in a fun-house mirror. "Oh, shit." Yoongi bites his lip as he swerves to attempt to stay in the right lane. "Ahh," he sighs, pushing a hand through his hair. He knows what he's doing is dangerous. He knows he could hurt someone, or end up hurt himself. But in all honesty, he doesn't fucking care. He doesn't care about his life or anyone else's, and it's been this way for who knows how long?

Yoongi's mind begins to wander, playing back through memories of his childhood, times spent with his friends raising hell. When did everything go so wrong? Yoongi's not sure. He shakes his head, reaching over to turn up the radio. The beat of the rap song floods the car, effectively drowning out the past that was running through his head. He sings along, closing his eyes.

After a few terribly long seconds, he opens his eyes once more, reaching for his phone. His fingers clumsily dial the number of an old friend. This friend picks up after a few rings, his voice making a dull ache blossom in Yoongi's chest. "Yoongi-ah, what is it? It's late."

"Joon-ah," Yoongi says, swallowing past the lump that has formed in his throat. It's been so long since he's talked to any of his friends. "B–Been a while, huh? How are you? How is everyone?"

"Everyone's fine. Are you drunk? I can tell that you're trying hard not to slur your words." Namjoon's voice takes on an admonishing tone. "It's not good to drink alone."

"I know, I know," Yoongi sighs. But you guys won't drink with me anymore. "Why'd you even answer if all you're gonna do is bitch at me, bro? If I wanted that, I would've called my mom." He runs a hand down his face, rubbing his eyes with a closed fist. A memory comes up in his mind, fuzzy with age and over-consumption of alcohol. Yoongi and his friends completely running the streets without a care in the world. They truly believed they were invincible, and they were; they really were. Nothing could touch them. "Hey, do you remember when we stole Jin's brother's truck and ran from the cops? And we completely stopped traffic?" Yoongi chuckles. "Do you remember?"

"Yes, I remember," Namjoon sighs. "But that's in the past. We don't run anymore. We've grown up now. Is this all you called me for?"

Yoongi feels the smile on his face slowly fade. "Yeah, Joon. I just... I wanted to reminisce. But I can see that I'm getting on your nerves. I apologize."

"Is that all? I have a meeting in the morning, so I should go. Goodnight, Yoongi."

"Joon, Joon; wait! Before you hang up on me," Yoongi speaks hurriedly. "You...You know I love you, right? I know we don't talk as much as we used to, but I'd do anything for you. You and the rest of the guys."

"Yeah," Namjoon says, his tone completely dismissive.

Yoongi sighs, shutting his eyes. When did Namjoon become so cold? He was never like this before. "Joon-ah, can you do me a favor?"