𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 • ᴊɪᴋᴏᴏᴋ

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 1 : Jimin moves out

The first thing he realises when he regains consciousness is the unbearable pounding in his head. He sits up in bed with a groan and looks around the room, a little disoriented. He finds the bed beside him empty, no sign of Jimin in the room. He doesn't bother about it though as he swings his legs off the bed. He screws his eyes shut at the ache that blooms in his head with the sudden movement.

"Jimin?" he croaks out.

He needs something to douse the pounding in his head. He knows Jimin will have something prepared for his hangover, just as he always does. He pushes himself off the bed and grips the footrest to steady himself. At snail pace, he shuffles out of the bedroom.

Jimin sits in the living room, head in his hand, phone resting on one side of the couch.

"Jimin," Jungkook calls from the doorway, eyebrows pinched together as though annoyed with the ache.

Jimin notes how it's no longer the sweet nicknames Jungkook had reserved for him. It was no longer "mimi," or "lovebug," or "baby." Just a plain "Jimin."

"What is it?" Jimin asks, without looking up because he knows if he does, he'll cry.

"I've got a hangover and I need your homemade medicine to cure it."

"Of course you do."

"What's up with you?" Jungkook has the audacity to ask, an annoyed undertone to his voice.

Jimin pulls his head out of his hands and fixes his bloodshot eyes on Jungkook, "what's up with me is that I'm sick and tired of waking up every night to open the door to my husband who comes home so drunk that he can't even walk straight. What's up is I'm tired, Jungkook! I'm tired of hoping. I'm tired of worrying. I'm just tired."

There's a small tug of guilt but the pounding in his head and his growing annoyance quickly extinguishes the emotion.

"I feel happy when I drink. Why can't you be happy for me?" Jungkook demands and Jimin gives him an incredulous stare.

"You're slowly digging a grave for yourself. What you're doing right now is killing yourself at a slow pace! How do you expect me to be happy when I'm watching you crumble before me?"

Jimin's voice cracks, eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"But you don't care. You don't care about yourself. You don't care about me. You don't care about us. You don't care enough to try."

"I care," Jungkook protests, but it's weak as though he isn't certain himself.

"You care about alcohol. As long as you have that, you're satisfied! Look at everything we've built over the past three years. It's crumbling down. You can see it. I can too. I've tried to hold us together, but I can't keep doing this by myself. The Jungkook I know would have never left me to steer our ship by myself, not even through the roughest seas. So where are you, Jungkook? Where are you?"

His voice is shaky throughout his rant. Jungkook is quiet.

"I want out," Jimin sobs, "I want out, Jungkook. I don't recognise you anymore. I don't know who you are. This isn't who I married. This isn't the man I fell in love with. This isn't the loving, caring, determined man I once discussed having a future with! I can't keep fighting for us while you do absolutely nothing on your end. I'm so tired. I just can't."

Jungkook's face stays devoid of emotions, "if you want out, then I'm fine with it."

Jimin's teary gaze snaps up to him.

"That's it?"

"What else do you want me to say?" Jungkook demands, feeling irritation creep up within him.

"You're just going to quit on us without a fight?" Jimin asks, his tears spilling down his cheeks, chest heaving from how much yelling he's been doing, "you're fine with it? You're just going to let go?"

And Jimin isn't sure why he still expects Jungkook to fight or say anything else at this point. He knew that if he let go, it would be the end. He knew, yet his heart longed for a different response, for a different reaction.

"You suggested the divorce and how am I the one who has quit on us," Jungkook yells back at him.

"Because I'm the only one fighting for us. You're addicted, Jungkook, and your addiction is destroying us."

Jimin grabs his keys off the table and slings a bagpack over his back, "I'll collect the rest of my stuff later. And I'll get the divorce papers for you to sign as well."

He harshly rubs the tears off his face and avoids eye contact with Jungkook. No more words are shared. Moments later the door slams shut and it seems to strike Jungkook that Jimin has left. He feels anger course through his veins and he growls in frustration. He grabs the first thing he can find and sends it sailing through the air. It strikes the television dead in the center and the electronic device hits the floor, glass shattering on impact.

His chest heaves with unleashed anger. He grips his hair and screams enraged. To be honest, he doesn't understand why he is behaving the way he is. Nothing makes sense. Nothing seems right. It's that urge, that craving, that he gives into without thinking twice.

His nails prick his skin as he drags them down his face, peeling the skin off his cheeks. He lets out a broken sob. He used to have a respectful job as an author, but he lost it. He used to have friends, but they left him. Jimin was the only one who stayed, and now he left as well.

Jungkook pulls a bottle from his secret stash in a hidden corner in their kitchen.

"But you didn't leave me," he whispers to it with an almost maniacal chuckle after he swallows down a sip or two.

——

"You can't keep dancing with the devil and ask why you're still in hell."

28 May, 2023