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What does it feel like to be drunk?
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Flashback...
"Enough, Jungkook! Yesterday, you made a mistake, and a mere commander had to clean up your mess! Have you no shame?" Mr. Jeon's voice thundered, addressing his twenty-year-old son, who had recklessly revealed his identity as a king in the crowded market.
"But what's done is done, father. And you handled it well," Jungkook retorted.
In pursuit of information about his mother's whereabouts, Jungkook approached a shopkeeper. Unbeknownst to him, the old shopkeeper recognized him instantly. The shop had a long history, and the owner, having personal ties, was also a messenger for his father.
The shopkeeper discreetly conveyed the news to Mr. Jeon through a secret channel, refusing to provide more details. "I am not supposed to answer you, sir. Please leave," he insisted. However, when Jungkook, in a moment of frustration, loudly declared his identity as the king's son, the hushed conversation became public.
The revelation quickly spread through the market, turning into gossip that stirred up trouble.
"How long will you fuss over this? You're too old to be looking for your mother!" Mr. Jeon shouted at Jungkook in frustration, his patience wearing thin.
"I'm not looking for her. I just want to know the truth," Jungkook insisted.
"The only truth you need to know is... Love? Kindness? Laughter? It's all a lie!"
"Then what about mother? Was that a lie too?"
"There's no such thing as love for people in our world."
"Then what is there?" Jungkook pressed, his determination undeterred.
"Duty. I have to protect what my father passed down to me. And you have to protect what I've accomplished."
"Love? Don't be foolish. Just be good at your training!"
"Fathe-"
"If you're going to talk about your mother again, leave."
"Moreover, I'll keep searching until I learn everything about my mother." Jungkook yelled defiantly as two employees of Mr. Jeon dragged him to the basement, imprisoning him for two days without food or drink as punishment.
Flashback ends.
Jungkook winced as his forehead throbbed, sinking onto the bed with a hand pressed to his head. It wasn't just a dream; it was a haunting memory, a reality from his past.
