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It was his sixteenth birthday.
He had spent the day, just like any other day. He went to school, his classmates sang happy birthday for him. Although he had to admit, he did feel a little uncomfortable being looked at by everyone in the class at once, even though they were people he saw everyday. But he was glad they remembered, in fact, he was happy even.
It was just a regular day for Jeongguk.
It was just the day he was born, as simple as that.
Still a clumsy, bunny-toothed boy with messy black hair who had one dream which was to draw. He was tired of being constantly told by his parents the impossibility of his future. They always told him the same thing over again, the income wouldn't be stable, and that he had gone to a private school all his life to become an artist. They pestered him to be a doctor, a profession more realistic for their child.
No matter how much he tried to persuade them, it was useless. It was like trying to to talk to a brick wall. Their mind was made, and so was his.
If this was just a regular day, Jeongguk would've sat there and listened to them discipline go on and on, but something riled up within him. A certain anger which he was so used to subsiding, he had made sure to bury it.
Because there was never winning with his parents, the more he fought back the messier things got.
His words never reached them, and with the addition of riving hormones, he did the only reasonable thing a hot-blooded sixteen year old boy could think of.
He stuffed in his miniature carry-on three black shirts, one pair of jeans and sweats, a pair of converse, Beats speakers, a stuffed animal, Apple airpods, a sketchbook, toothbrush, face wash, bar of soap, a stuffed animal, box of pockys, a pillow, set of pajamas, his laptop, and he was gone.
Just like that.
It was scary how easy it was. It's all just adrenaline and anxiety pumping in you before, until you actually do it, and then it's nothing. Nothing at all.
He tiptoed quietly out the house, and closed the door hoping it wasn't loud enough to wake them. He almost felt guilty for a second, everything was so quiet. The farther he got, the more he kept wishing his mom would wake up and notice he wasn't there, hoping someone would get him.
But he shut these thoughts out of his head, just as quick as he shut the door while thinking to himself 'you're too young to let your future go, you only live once.'
So he sat in an empty train at three a.m. drawing the face of a stranger with two earbuds in listening to clairo. His head was heap of thoughts, all jumbled together, not a single organized thought in spot. He could only think about where he was he going to stay for the night, what he was going to eat, and how this would mess with his perfect attendance.
"Is that me?" a voice calls from across him, but he doesn't hear. She taps on his knee before, calling out again, "Is that supposed to be me?"
Jungkook quickly takes out his buds.
"Oh, I'm sorry. It-s-Uh' I didn't mean to. I uh, I'm really sorry" He puts his head down, and reaches quickly for his eraser.
"It's fine, you're really good at drawing"
"I'm pretty average. I mean.." The corner of his lips start to curl upwards. He loved being complimented on his art. It may seem egotistical but there are words that are unfathomable of the joys a creator feels when he/she receives good criticism on his/her work.
"No, you're really good. I hate when good people say that, I mean it If that's average then I suck"
He just nods. She talked a lot.
"Hey, by the way, where's your parents?" she drops formal speech with him suddenly.
Jeongguk's heart drops and he looks up with wide puppy eyes, almost as if he was pleading her not to go any further with the subject.
"I'm thirty-five"He blurts nervously.
A/N: So word, I'm just gonna start posting all these scraps of shitty writing from like years ago. I really liked them and I hope you come to like them too.
