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Thursday; December 6, 8:56PM River's Gas Station
Taehyung's P.O.V.
"The gas' stumped. Luckily, the gas station is close by."
"How close? I need to head home."
"It's literally to your left, dumbass." I pointed out, using the GPS app on his phone. He quickly turns to his window and laughs, embarrassed.
"Well do you got cash? Mr. I Know Everything." Taeyong mocks, opening the car door and walking around to my side. I sigh in annoyance, "No, this is your car. Aren't you the one who pays for this anyways?"
He swings my side open and drags me out, which left me on the floor in confusion. Taeyong chuckles, his mood randomly changing. "Guess you're right. I got some cash to spend at the station. Come on, you must be hungry."
I agreed to follow him through, having Jennie follow me close by. It had been cold out so Taeyong lends me one of his itchy Christmas sweatshirts.
I laugh, telling him it was only August. Jennie pauses and turns around at me as if I said something out of place. "Taehyung, it's December."
Taeyong places a finger on the calendar at the gas station. It largely showed it was the sixth day of the twelfth month.
I frown, rubbing the large sleeves around my wrists, "Hah... guess you're right. I've been out for that long..." I continue to mumble. Taeyong eyes me in confusion and continued to obnoxiously chino on the sloppy sandwich at his hands,
"Yeah, whatever emo boy. Let's hit the road again. I bought some gas for the van."
"R-right!"
------------------- Jungkook's P.O.V.
I sat lifelessly on my bed, my limbs dangling off. I look up to the ceiling above me, watching all the hanging pictures of Taehyung I stuck onto the roof.
Father's humming had sounded awkwardly around me, which had indicated he entered my room, but I pay no attention. He sighs as I quickly flip over to face the wooden floor below me.
"Hey emo boy, he isn't gone forever you know." He said, I ignore him and continue to stare at the ground. Father forces a boiling mug on my cheek to grab my attention. I gasp as I thrust it to the floor; it's ingredients spilling everywhere.
Father grumbles as he stares, disgusted, at the now brown carpet.
"What a waste, sending poor maids to clean this up I assume? How productive." He scolds sarcastically, walking out of the room. His hands became fists as he slammed the door closed.
Why do I have to be the son of a freak?
A piece of paper lands on the back of my head. I groan and reach to grab it, my face softening.
It was my favorite picture of Tae, he smiles into my camera innocently making finger hearts.
I remember him thinking that I was in the photography club taking a pictures for the newspaper. He wanted to be apart of the paper and asked me to.
Glancing up to the wall above, I saw all the photos close to coming down. "Shit, Father's anger may have caus—"
I scramble to find the tape and restick them, but they descend one by one, landing on my bed.
Each photograph's fall teasing his departure away from me a few days ago. The duct tape falls from my hand, rolling somewhere I don't care.
