Beautiful Prison

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He woke up in pain, groaning loudly.
God, his head was killing him, like a thousand pickaxe's were hammering against his temples.
He was nothing but pain, laying still as he groaned again and tried to breath calmly.
He couldn't think around the headache or the nausea taking hold of him.
Oh shit...he was gonna puke.
He scrambled over the messy sheets and empty bottles and something that looked like the crusty edges of pizza. Ewww, gross.

He went to stand, then fell and connected with the floor with a loud, painful thud. For one because he had stepped on a bottle and because his vision had turned dark for a second, his mind blurry.
He raised to his arms and then crawled to the adjoining bathroom on all fours.
He didn't know how he knew it was a bathroom, just that he felt like he'd done this a thousand times.
He barely managed to open the toilet lit before he puked out his brains.
The smell stung his eyes and the burn in his throat had him wincing in pain.
And the sound of his retching and choking sounded like a dying animal. He felt like one too as he threw up everything in his stomach until there was nothing but water, acid and horrible smelling, then slid to the floor as not even his arms could hold him any longer.

His skin was clammy with sweat, his white hair clinging to his forehead and he welcomed the cold of the bathroom tiles as he continued to focus on his breathing with closed eyes. It was way too bright.

A hangover.
Why had he gotten so drunk?
Where was he?
And where was Jungkook?

His eyes flew open.
Jungkook.

A sob rose up his still burning throat as the truth and past weeks flooded back, crashing into him like a tidal wave, cutting of his air.
He sat there, gaping for air that could not stop the pain and agony.

Jungkook wouldn't come.
He lost him.
He broke his heart.
He saw his tears, the expression of disbelieve and hurt, heard his sobs and the scream behind a closed door.
He remembered why he'd gotten drunk.
Why he had done so for the last two weeks. It was to make that memory go away. Make the pain stop, drinking until his mind floated and couldn't form a coherent thought. And then repeated it the next day.
A thought managed to form through the pain and heartbreak:

He didn't know what day it was and that sudden realization had him scrambled forward, on all fours again  because he still felt nauseous and dizzy, his legs weeks as butter.
He ignored the littering bottles and cans, crawling back to the bed, threw the stained sheets around until he found what he was looking for so desperately: his phone. 

The brightness of it nearly blinded him and sent another sharp stab through his head. 
He blinked and focused on the screen and the day it displayed. 

Friday. 

No.. no, it couldn't be Friday already. 

He came at the weekends. 

The monster who took everything from him and made him into this pitiful being he'd become, drinking his brains out every night. 

Seong-Min had picked him up that night- no... waited for him in front of his door as if he'd known Jimin would do it that day. 
And Jimin had not resisted. Had not gotten his stuff from his flat or written a letter of resignation, nor let the University know. He simply got in his car and let the monster take him away. 

And now here he was. 
In this beautiful, massive prison that was the beach house. 
Where he had spend his last days with Jungkook and his friends. 

Seong-Min's cruelty knew no end. Everything in this house was a reminder. Of his past as a naïve, stupid boy in love. And of the boy he had been before Seong-Min broken him a second time. Someone who believed he could finally have a happy ending. 

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