stranded | vkook/taekook

Chapter one

Jungkook had never felt more at ease.

The sound of the waves hitting the ship creating a soothing rhythm paired with the sunshine hitting his skin was everything he could have wished for during a summer holiday.

He breathed in the smell of the sea, closing his eyes. The sounds of the seagulls flying over his head made a beautiful background noise.

"Jeon needed in cafeteria two, a kid got seasick again." A voice spoke through his earpiece.

Too bad he couldn't enjoy it though.

Jungkook mumbled a halfhearted, "Coming." into the microphone attached to his white polo, which was part of the awful uniform all staff was forced to wear on deck. He stopped in the middle of the last task he was assigned and stuck his mop into the bucket before riding the cart to the cafeteria.

On his way there he passed the volleyball court, seeing a group of guys passing the ball around. He sighed in desire, missing spending hours with his friend messing around and doing absolutely nothing useful. He was quick to remove his gaze when he noticed they were all wearing branded clothes of some sort. Jungkook didn't want any trouble. Not more than he had already caused on his short stay here anyways.

Jungkook didn't notice the ball that had rolled in front of his feet just before he picked up his pace, resulting in him standing on it and seeing the sky flash by in front of his eyes when he tumbled backwards, head hitting the wood last.

He heard a crash, cringing at the newly obtained knowledge of the cart having fallen down.

Jungkook couldn't do anything but stare at the sky in shock though, hearing nothing but quiet whispers from the previously loud deck. His cheeks heated up, quickly scrambling to his feet.

He noticed all the stares from the guests, judging how unprofessional he was. Jungkook quickly looked down, ignoring the dull pain in the back of his head caused by the quick movements.

He squatted down to pick up the cart. Jungkook cursed under his breath when he noticed the bucket's contents had spilled all over the deck, now a puddle added to his list of things to clean. He reached out for the bucket, but a person stepped in front of it before he could.

Jungkook frowned and looked up, squinting through the sunlight to see who it was.

One of the guys from the court. He had silver hair that covered most of his forehead, despite the obvious attempt of holding it back with a black bandana. His jaw was square and sharp, giving him an intimidating look. But most intimidating had to be his eyes, bright and dark.. and glaring at him.

"Aren't you going to apologise?" The stranger barked after a few seconds, gazing down at Jungkook. The silver-haired guy's voice was deeper than he had anticipated, a slight accent behind his words.

"What?" Jungkook frowned. He felt inferior to him by the angle he was looking at him. And he didn't like feeling inferior, so Jungkook got to his feet.

He flinched a bit when feeling the protesting of his back, but hoped it wasn't obvious enough for the other to notice.

Jungkook held back a smirk at the fact that despite them being the same height, he was obviously broader. He might have glaring eyes, Jungkook has one mean swing. If the guy was looking for a fight, he'd definitely win. Not that Jungkook wanted one, his boss would definitely make him clean the bathrooms.

"For ruining my ball." The guy stated as if if was obvious, gesturing to somewhere behind Jungkook. Jungkook turned and saw the cause of his harsh fall, the sad excuse for a ball being nothing but an airless corpse on the floor. He turned back to see if the guy was kidding, but he was only met with the same glaring eyes.

"Are you serious?" Jungkook was the one who had hurt himself, and this guy demanded an apology?

"Yes, I'm fucking serious!" The guy had raised his voice, and Jungkook had to do his best to hold back a laugh. "I'll have you know that football was signed by Ronaldo!"

"I'm more of a Messi guy myself." Jungkook retorted, trying to look cool by pushing his hands in his pockets. Only then he realised the khaki shorts he was wearing didn't have pockets. Stupid uniform. "Why were you playing volleyball with a football anyways?"

"Listen," The guy's eyes flickered to Jungkook's name tag he had messily pressed onto his shirt. "Jungkook, that ball was really fucking expensive, and since you ruined it, I expect you to fix it. I want the amount that football is worth in my pocket in seven days, or I will make sure your sorry gets fired and shipped back to whatever miserable, small town you came from."

He had gotten closer to Jungkook with each word, eyes not leaving his for even a second. Jungkook didn't move back though, and he saw some sort of surprise in his eyes when he didn't even when their noses were nearly touching.

And despite Jungkook refusing to get blackmailed, he couldn't lose this job, even if if was for a summer. So he sighed in defeat, and the silver-haired already started smirking.

"How much?"

"700."

"What? Does that footballer shit fucking gold or something?" Jungkook shrieked and moved back, resisting the urge to punch the smirk off the guy's face.

"If I were you, I'd start saving money, and clean that ball up." He pressed the bucket Jungkook had been reaching out for into Jungkook's head, ignoring the pleading look he was giving him.

With those final words he turned on his heel, leaving Jungkook alone with his thoughts. He couldn't do anything but watch as the prick walked back to his probably as prick friends who had already pulled a new, probably as expensive ball from somewhere unknown to him.

Even if he didn't spend anything for an entire week he wouldn't have enough money. He would have to pull money from his savings or borrow money from people. It was an accident, and the guy was probably able to buy dozens of the same exact ball without a dent forming in his bank account.

With a huff Jungkook placed the bucket back in the cart and bowed down to pick up the lifeless ball, his back and head protesting once again.

He threw it into the trash, faintly seeing a black scribble on the white leather. It was an ugly signature anyways, he didn't understand what all the fuss was about.

Jungkook started pushing the cart again, and his blood was boiling.

This was not what he had wanted nor had expected from his summer job.

Lord, give him strength not to kill any of the entitled people on this cruise.