𝐔𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃

57 | clarity

Jimin

A glass filled with a rich amber liquid is sitting in my grip halfway done. I raise it to my lips and take a sip tasting the strong notes of vanilla, oak and caramel. A hint of spice tickles my tastebuds and that's when I put the glass back down. I'm currently sitting alone in the bar at the Sage as I wait for Evelyn to arrive. I called her shortly after I left Sam's house and asked her to meet me here to talk. With the alcohol I ingested, I feel slightly relaxed and more controlled, so I don't need to worry about losing it. Besides, Eugenia is here to hold me down with her firm grip; she's used to dealing with brawls all the time in such a setting.

My gaze falls on the cracks on the wet bar and then at the purple marks clouding my pale knuckles. I can start feeling my fingers cramp up as a painful sensation overtakes my entire wrist all the way up to my elbows causing me to groan. A tired sigh leaves my lips and I raise my hands to push my hair away from my forehead. Those annoying spikes are now falling into my eyes. I might need to get a haircut soon. The Nirvana shirt I found at Sam's place is on my lap and the more I look at the damn thing the angrier I feel myself getting, so I raise my bruised hand to gesture to Eugenia to come here.

"I'd like a refill." I say vacantly and she raises a suspicious brow.

"Why the shit-face?" She returns while grabbing a Jack and Daniel's from the shelf.

My hair falls back into my eyes, and I angrily push it back. "I don't want to talk about it right now Eugenia."

She pouts sadly as she pours me my bittersweet cure. "So, you'd rather take baby steps toward alcoholism? Can't say it bothers me, since it benefits me, but you're good guy Jimin and you're my favorite customer, so it pains me to see you going through shit."

I offer her a small smile because her words are the first thing that make me feel a fragment of comfort in this shitty night.

"Thank you, Eugenia." I say. "But this is one is rather personal."

"I see," she mutters. "On a scale of one to ten how fucked is the situation?"

I shrug. "A nine."

"A nine?"

"Yeah," I sigh. "I guess that worse things could have happened, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt."

"If it's not a perfect ten, whatever it is that's fucking with your head isn't worth your time pretty boy." Eugenia pushes my drink toward me when she proceeds, "You're angry, feeling like you're torn into pieces, but you're still standing proudly. You have people who give a shit. Fuck everyone else." She pours herself some vodka in a shot glass winks at me encouragingly.

I suck in a breath as I raise the glass to my lips. With Taehyung being pissed at me, Nox avoiding me like the plague and Sam having fucked my ex-girlfriend while we were together; yes, I most definitely have people who give a shit.

"To not giving a shit about fuckers who aren't worth a minute of our precious time." Eugenia raises the shot glass, "Tva-jó zda-ró-vye." She cheers in Russian. We clink glasses and swallow down our drinks.

That's when the door chimes open and Evelyn steps into the bar in a dark gray coat and jeans. Her red locks dangle freely down her waist and her blue eyes examine the entire bar until they finally spot me on the wet bar.

"If I were dating her, I'd head dive into alcoholism." Eugenia snorts, then pours herself another vodka shot. "Good luck with that pretty boy."

Evelyn smiles at me and waves playfully and the way she looks right now is so innocent as if she never went behind my back and did unspeakable things. Her expression is almost convincing me that what I saw back at Sam's house was nothing but a lie. She paces toward me in the bar area, a slight bounce intertwined within each step she takes.