Jin. Slumped in deep dejection, his unpleasant experiences scarred him for life. He thought he wasn't capable of falling in love, but he was wrong. He fell in love with Taehyung. A man twice his age, married and husband of the man he wanted to seek...
"It is in the deconstruction of ourselves that we begin to build our lives."
- DeloraArgiroOBrien
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SEOKJIN
Friends.
I have little. You can count them with one hand. And when I say friends, they are the real ones. No inhibitions, no secrets, no bullshits. We trust each other.
Aside from myself and my reflection in the mirror, it's Yoongi. He is my best friend. Of all the so-called friends I had, he is the most transparent one. I don't need to pretend or to hide anything. Everything is sincere and honest. And he's the only one who stayed, who saw my hardships and who knew my darkest pasts. What I love the most about him? He never judged me.
I can say that he's better than my family. I thought there was no place better than being with family. That was before. When my dad died when I was sixteen, things changed. My mother remarried after just months of being a widow. And the biggest twist of it all, she married a 23-year-old jobless man who knows nothing but to give endless praises to my mother. He's often drunk, left my father's expensive liquors empty, he smokes a lot and he gambles. And my mother is okay with it. It's a fucked up relationship, but my mother wouldn't listen.
I am now seated in a place that I once called home. My home for 18 years. It's still as pristine and as elegant as before. The crystal chandelier still glitters on the white ceiling. The grand staircase is still as polished as it used to be. My feet still sink to the carpeted floor and the maids still greeted me as if I am still a resident of the huge home. Nothing's changed. Except my father wasn't there anymore.
"My baby. I'm glad you came! " My mother seemed happy to see me, having ignored her calls and messages for several months. "My baby, still as handsome as before. Maybe more."
I rolled my eyes. I did not acknowledge any of her lies. I never treat her praises as is, they are lies. Like what I have learned, some praises are meant to deceive and my mother is one of those people who loves doing that.
"Come on, eat well. I asked our maids to cook your favorite foods. " She sat down on my right, raising her hand to command her maids to put food on my plate. Something that I hate. Living alone for two years, I realized that having someone to put meals on your plate will only teach you to be forever dependent. You have hands, you can do it on your own.
I stopped the hand of the maid and smiled at her. "I'm fine. Thank you."
The maid placed the serving plate back on the table and stood back in her position.
