i never thought it would be this hard. looking down at my father, drained, his skin once spry and bright and his eyes once full of life. i close my eyes letting a tear roll down my cheek. this, this is not him. this is a stranger lying in front of me. tears well up in my eyes as many more people, dark and expressionless crowd around the cherrywood coffin. for many, this will be the last time they'll see my father, in this horrible state, barely reflecting the man he used to be.
"it's quite sad, isn't it?"
"hmm?" a tall man, his face narrow and his lips thin towers over me, giving me a small smile. he clears his throat.
"i mean it's sad to see such a successful man pass," his voice comes out deep and sharp, like chains rustling against each other. i quickly wipe the tears from my eyes, my hands travelling around my bag for a tissue.
"u-uhm yeah, yeah," i try to smile back, only ending up with a half awkward smirk.
"jeon jungkook, jeon inc.," mr. jeon sticks his hand out, and i accept the gesture, him keeping a firm grip on our handshake. he takes a pause.
"and you?"
"sorry, sorry, im sjlkfd," he nods, seemingly taking my name into account.
"you're mr.dldj daughter aren't you?"
"that's me," i mentally cringe as he chuckles softly, a strand of black hair falling onto his forehead.
"me and your dad got quite close before he died," mr.jeon sighs, looking up, as if my father was right there, plastered onto the ceiling. a silent cough from behind causes him to turn around. he sucks in air through his teeth, facing me once again.
"i guess that's my queue," my lips part, soon to be interrupted as he starts speaking again.
"i'll see you around skldkj,"
"you too, mr. jeon," he smiles.
"oh please call me jungkook," we share one more handshake before he walks away. it's much easier to observe him from a distance. his muscular arms, wanting to burst through his jacket and his staggering walk. my phone vibrates through my purse.
