YOUTH. | JK | COMPLETE

bail

I LOST A FRIEND
FINNEAS

I lost a friend
Like keys in a sofa
Like a wallet in the backseat
Like ice in the summer heat
I lost a friend
Like sleep on a red-eye
Like money on a bad bet
Like time worrying about
Every bad thing that hasn't happened yet
I know I'll be alright, but I'm not tonight
I'll be lying awake counting all the mistakes I've made

I'd apologize if I thought it might make a difference
Or make you listen
I'd apologise if it was black and white
But life is different
Just try to listen to me now

Jeongguk is cold as he sits in the jail cell. The cold metal bench that's beneath him and the cold metal bars that press against his back and the cold metal handcuffs that dig into his raw skin. He's not just externally cold, though. His heart feels empty, numb. The look on Seokjin's face is permanently burned into his memory, the ghost of Haneul's hands pushing him away still on his skin. Hoseok's pale body in the hospital bed imprinted into the backs of his eyelids. The acrid taste of vomit lingering on his tongue, the video of Hoseok's body jerking violently and dropping to the ground churning his stomach and making him feel the urge to vomit more. The pool of blood around Hoseok's limp body staining the very edges of Jeonngguk's subconscious.

He's tired, not physically, but emotionally exhausted. Jeongguk has lost everyone he cares about in the span of a few hours, and the one person left who cares about him is dying because of him. He wonders if living this long was worth anything at all, if all he did was hurt people with what he was. He doesn't know how long he's been in the cell, staring at the raw skin of his wrists. When the officers handcuffed him, he didn't try to struggle, but they set the cuffs too tight, and didn't take them off even when he was alone in a cell. He knew this was because they considered him dangerous, though he didn't know what dangerous activity he had done other than be born two hundred years ago and live without someone who is destined to love him.

Guilt seeps through the flimsy walls of his pity party the second that thought passes through his mind. That's not true, at least, the last part isn't. How could he have gotten so caught up in self loathing that he could forget about Jimin? Jimin, and his bright smile and meaningful words and gentle touch. Jimin, with his soft kisses and fluffy hair and sparkling eyes as fresh in Jeongguk's mind as if he saw them yesterday, not a dozen decades ago. Jimin, whose pretty lips were stained ruby red as he coughed up blood and died. Jeongguk shivers, suddenly even colder than before. The vivid crimson only reminds him of the bloody puddle sourced by Hoseok's body.

Jeongguk sighs, leaning his head back against the bars. He's tired, and his head aches from thinking, but he keeps his eyes wide open; he fears what his dreams will bring him more than he fears his thoughts. He should have known better than to try to make friends. Someone like him doesn't deserve friends; they'll only get hurt.

"Wanderer. You alive in there?" The gruff voice of a police officer penetrates his thoughts, and he looks down from the ceiling at the officer's hateful eyes and set jaw. Yes, but I wish I wasn't, he's tempted to answer, but instead, he sits up straight and manages his best, most well-behaved smile.

"Yes, sir." Jeongguk replies, his teeth gritted in his smile. The amount of choice words he has for this officer, this ruthless, apathetic officer who insisted on bringing him here for "questioning" only to lock him up and not speak a word to him, to deny him his one phone call (though Jeongguk doesn't know who he'd call if he had the chance), is uncountable. But he doesn't want to know what kind of trouble he'd be in if he said even the kindest out of the expletives, so he bites his tongue and puts on his best act.

"Should've known you'd be. Unfortunately. Well, someone's bailing you out. Don't know who in their right mind would want to let something like you out, but money can work wonders, can't it, Wanderer?" The officer practically hisses as he unlocks the door, walking over to a positively stupefied Jeongguk. Who would come to get him out of here? He is shocked out of his stupor when the officer takes care to make sure the metal cuffs chafe against his red and ravaged skin one last time before removing them. Stumbling to his feet as he rubs his wrists tenderly, he follows the officer out of the back of the police station where they keep prisoners and to the front.