Between Truths ║Dahkook║K.DH J.JK

burning stars

CHAPTER XXIV

"THE heck was that?"

He barely heard the question as cheers around him rose to a fevered height; could not tell who it was from because of the chaos. But the faces around him were familiar. They had rushed to him from the players bench, eager and fervid, like melted glaciers racing down mountain peaks. He drowned in the flood of both sincere congratulations and derisive praises. They rose above him; dragged him away from her.

Jungkook pushed past them. Past Mingyu's stoic face on the edge of the crowd. Past Eunwoo's frozen smile even further away on the side-line. Towards the nearest exit, a little opening boxed by the rows of seats on both its sides and above it. There was little elsewhere she could have gone after disappearing like that. Please, don't let him be wrong.

He was not.

A wayfarer, lonesome and slow, she trekked through the long white tunnel. He should have hesitated, find words for her, or anything at all. But he ran, closing the distance between them. As if he alone could make things better. As if it had not been him that made her walk that endless stretch.

But when he stood in front of her, reality crashed at his feet. The song he hid for years. The one he trashed finally. Along with his favourite picture of Yein slipped between the pages of old books too. The feeling he buried—it was haunting him now.

His chest constricted. He hated his feelings. The oppressing guilt especially. There was no reason for it. He had always done whatever needed for him to live. He was not like the girl in front of him. Kind without expectations. Kind for no reasons. Kind to people who hurt him. He wondered if that was what it meant to live a carefree live. To have so much to give. To be able to laugh about the smallest things. To have a forgiving heart. Maybe then anyone could be as lovely as Kim Dahyun. Even someone like him.

"The exit is not this way," he said.

"But you're not here to show me the way."

"I want to thank you," he said.

"It was not for you."

"I know. Still, thank you."

"If you mean it at all, don't say anything."

He wanted to grant her the request, but quiet would not untangle them from each other; would not make this better.

"I didn't mean to go this far," he started to explain.

Nothing had ever turned out the way he needed them to be. He had not meant to end up here. The bouquet in his hands had not, either. She stared at the pretty thing. He did too. The ribbon around it undone. There were many loose ends about her too.

"No, you only wanted to fight gravity. You managed to fly this high. Is there anywhere else to go but down now?" She said, eyes stone cold, "You should have walked, no matter how tiring. You should have kept to yourself, quiet. Should have dreamed only in sleep. You shouldn't have pushed me down only to end up here with me."

"You want me to be happy just breathing?"

"Is this better—fighting to lose?"

"A thousand times." He said, fire lighting his eyes. "It might not be to you, but you don't know what it means to survive. You don't worry. You don't stay awake, hungry. You don't know what it's like to be so desperate, you'd do anything for dirty money."

"Oh, but you weren't trying to survive. . You were just low enough to buy someone's love when she's at the bottom."