Recovery (GOT7 fanfic)

Sorry for Being Such a Mess

This is the most I've taken in one morning before. I've never taken more than two before today. I took four. I know it can't be good for me, but I needed it. After my fights with both Bambam and Yugyeom, and my throbbing hangover looming across my forehead, something needed to dull the pain. So I finished the bottle.

Jinyoung and I had arranged to work on our poster for school today, so I was using a map and the address he had given me, to find my way to his house. 

However, the effects were kicking in quicker than I had anticipated. I stumbled along, shaking off the feeling, pushing it aside, pretending it wasn't there. 

I knocked feebly on Jinyoung's door. No answer. I exhaled with panic and fear. He said that he would be at home. It felt like my lungs kept contracting, and failed to relax. I put my back to the door and looked both ways down the street. Empty. I wasn't too sure whether it was a good or bad thing. But really, I knew that it was bad. 

I had gotten myself into real trouble this time. No Yugyeom to save me, no Bambam, no Jinyoung, and a dead phone. My last hope had been Jinyoung. I knew I couldn't say I wouldn't do it again. That would have been too much, wouldn't it? I scoffed and cursed at myself.

I was already halfway down to the cracked pavement, back stuck to the door like glue, and my legs stuck out at awkward, abnormal angles. I felt like crying, but I pretty much blacked out before I could. 

Someone was shaking me, and I refused to open my eyes. Until I heard him say, "Should I call an ambulance? Should I call Yugyeom? Or Bambam?"

My eyes snapped open and I tried to stand up, but I fell back down to the pavement. "No, please don't. I'm fine," I said. Jinyoung had a hold on my shoulders.

"Are you sure? You don't look fine," 

"I'm just...tired. I just need to lie down for a bit," I told him. It didn't look like he believed me. I stood up fully without his help, and put on a smile.

"Well, you were at the wrong door," He rolled his eyes, smiling.

"Huh?" I frowned.

"My house is opposite this one," He grinned knowingly.

"Oh," I mentally face palmed. Of course I was at the wrong house.

"So, are you going to tell me why you passed out on my neighbour's doorstep, or not?" Jinyoung asked as he opened the front door. I gave a nervous laugh rather than a straight answer. 

"I'm sorry for being such a mess," I ended up saying.

"And, enlighten me. Why are you such a mess?" He continued his questions. He sat down on the sofa, and I sat next to him. He grabbed a tin off the table and opened it. Inside were chocolate chip cookies. He took one before offering me them.

"I shouldn't," I refused, even though I would love a cookie. Haven't had one of those in a while.

"You deserve one," Jinyoung put one in my hand anyway, and I took a small bite. It was annoyingly delicious.

I left silence, hoping he'd forgotten about the question, but he was obviously waiting for an answer. Maybe it would be good to tell someone about all this, but.. it wasn't a therapist. It was Jinyoung. I looked at the carpet.

"You can tell me," He murmured.

"I know..." I took a deep breath. "I..I--" I felt like hyperventilating. Why was this so damn difficult to say? I took the empty bottle out of my bag and gave it to him.

"What are these?" 

"Antidepressants," I said.

"Oh..." He studied the bottle. I didn't know what else to say, and I didn't expect him to know what to say either.