BLOOM JUST FOR YOU | JIKOOK ✔

𝑰𝒕'𝒔 𝑭𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒂𝒚 :: 19

"Miss Park? Dad? What's going on?" Jungkook asked curiously as he descended the stairs, lips parted and brows knit in confusion.

His father rubbed at his nape, Miss Park clearing her through awkwardly. "I thought you'd be at school already," Mister Jeon told in short, sure to take a step away from Jimin's mother who stood rather stiffly with her heels in her hands, feet bare.

"It's fucking Sunday," Jungkook responded curtly before he crossed his arms, staring at his father with a disbelieving looking in his big brown eyes. One of his brows arched, begging for a satisfying explanation.

His father rolled his eyes rather childishly, removing his glasses and a sigh following. He then crossed his own arms, tunneling his vision toward Jungkook rather than a randomly chosen spot on the floor. "If I'm so bad then how come I saw Jimin scurry out the front door while pulling up into the driveway?" he tested.

Miss Park turned to face Mister Jeon at this, jaw hung low in shock. "You saw my son? Why was he at your home and why so early?" she questioned eagerly as she began to slip her heels onto her feet clumsily.

"Ask my son and maybe he'll be able to give you an answer. Isn't that right, Jungkook? Why was he here and why so early?" his father pressed much further, causing Jungkook to taut. What was he trying to do, exactly? His personal life wasn't some sort of game, so he wasn't sure why his father had an itch to be so competitive and take the lead when that was Jungkook's job. It was his job to take responsibility of his own life, however his father was making that extremely difficult for him.

"I think I should probably go check on Jimin," Miss Park said promptly. It appeared as though she were about to press a kiss to Mister Jeon's cheek, however she pulled away almost immediately upon realizing her mistake. She cleared her throat, and then made her way out the door, closing it softly behind her.

A silence fell upon the Jeon home. Jungkook was boiling up internally, glaring intensively at his father and that smug little look on his face. "What are you trying to do? Your life isn't perfect enough and so you have to meddle with mine? When will you be satisfied enough? When will I be enough?"

Mister Jeon rolled his tongue into his lower lip, studying the combined look of sadness and frustration creating his son's visage. "You will never be enough for me. Maybe I'll change my mind as soon as you bring home a girl rather than a boy. Tell me, Jungkook. How far did you two go?" he questioned nosily, causing his son's fists to curl.

"Why does that fucking matter to you? It's none of your business what goes on between Jimin and I. You're gross for even thinking about asking that question. But the fact that you actually did makes me sick," Jungkook spat, pointing a finger forcefully into his father's chest.

"You better watch yourself, Jungkook," Mister Jeon warned with darkened eyes.

"Whatever. I'm going to see mom," Jungkook announced while travelling to the counter, fingers grasping his truck keys. He went to pass his father, arm being seized rather harshly.

"Why do you still visit her? She's the reason you're fucked up, you know. Like mother like son, I guess?"

Jungkook scoffed. "She may be fucked up, but at least she gives me more clarity than you ever could. She loves me for who I am, and that's enough. I don't have to fake anything when I'm around her. I can be myself," he explained harshly although truthfully, snapping his arm free from his father's brute clutch. "Don't be surprised if I'm gone for a couple of days. I'm sure you won't miss me though."

"Get back here right now, Jungkook," Mister Jeon ordered in a lowered register, attempting to intimidate his son into submission. However that clearly wasn't possible as Jungkook gave him one last look before exiting out the front door, slamming it shut behind him.

The brunette stormed off to his truck, ignoring the angry calls from his father. He took his place behind the wheel, starting up his vehicle. He placed his right hand on the passenger seats headrest as he reversed out of the driveway, peripheral vision picking up one last furious image of his father before he took off completely, driving through the affluent section of town and then reaching the less wealthier parts of it.

On the way there he felt like he could break down at any given second. He was so used to that kind of treatment from his father. Yet it never got any easier to deal with. He constantly took verbal blows and if he did anything in defense he'd receive yet some more, however physically. It was taxing.

Eventually, he reached the small little secluded section of land his mother managed to claim as her own. He drove through the trees, her trailor coming into vision. His heart beat began to slow and the adrenline coursing through his veins tranquilized just at the thought of being held by her. It had been awhile since he last saw his mother, albeit accompanied by very, very sore circumstances. He rolled up to her trailor, truck purring before he turned it off and removed his key. A sigh left his chapped lips as he peered down to his thighs, mind clamoring with unwanted thoughts. They made themselves present and thrived despite his want for them to leave. Evidently, he wasn't mentally strong at the moment.

Deciding to bring his wallowing to a pause, he decided to hop out of his truck, closing his door behind him. He didn't tell his mother he was visiting, which he supposed was kind of foolish considering the circumstances of his last unannounced visit. Yet it was clearly too late already, and so he approached the door of her trailor. He knocked softly, idling and honing in on the sounds emitting from the inside. Nothing. His knuckles collided with more force against the door. And still nothing.

Jungkook let out a shaky breath, fingers hooking beneath the handle. He tugged on it lightly, surprised to find that it popped open easily and hadn't been locked. That stirred suspicions within himself and he felt a shiver roll down his spine at the possibilities. He took a step forward, the faint aroma of his mother seeping into his nostrils. He missed her scent. He missed her.

"Mom? Are you here?" he asked gently, heart beginning to thrum in his chest when he got nothing in response. Not so much as a word or action to assure her presence. But he pressed his hand to his chest in relief, a stuttered exhale blowing past his lips as he saw the back of her head past one of the chairs in the livingroom.

He began to approach her. "Momma, I thought you were--"

His face dropped. There she was, face devoid of colour as her bony and paled figure sunk into the couch. Jungkook's glazed over eyes wandered to the needle sitting lazily in her skin, some heroin still visibly left inside of it.

"N-no! Momma, please! Tell me this is some kind of sick j-joke," he whimpered as he crouched down in front of her, feeling her skin. She was freezing cold. She was lifeless, and Jungkook knew this. However that didn't stop him from wanting to believe that she was still there. That she was still present, and with him.

"Y-you're all I have... please, momma. Your baby boy needs you," Jungkook cried as he reached for her hand, pressing it to his cheek. His lips trembled and he couldn't help but sob as he sat there, her still open yet departed eyes staring back at him. "I n-need you... now more than ever. Why'd you h-have to go? Why would you do this to me?" he asked, an amalgam of anger and sorrow slathering his words as he dropped to his knees. Heartwrenching cries stumbled out of his dry lips without any sign of stopping. He brought his hands to his face, biting down on one of his thumbs to try and stop. He wanted everything to stop. He wanted his world to stop spinning.

He could hardly see because of his blurred vision as he pulled his phone out. He stood, stumbling, however catching himself before plummeting to the floor once again. His shakey hand reached for his phone. He pulled it out, dialing 911. He stood and trembled, waiting patiently for the line to pick up which didn't take long.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"My mother is dead."