7 Years - Lukas Graham
Jungkook's father was more attentive toward his son ever since he returned home four days ago. Like right now, the young man was sitting on the couch as he stared at the TV mindlessly. He hadn't changed the channel in twenty minutes and was gaping the ads.
Mr. Jeon approached him and sat beside him. Jungkook flinched before he smiled, looking at the man's mouth bracketed by worry. "Appa... Aren't you late for work?" He asked haggardly.
"I can go late," the father smiled in assurance. Jungkook noted the perfume. The same smell he associated his father with. Poised, composed, confident. "Do you want to join me?"
"Me?" Jungkook asked, taken aback by the sudden ask.
"Diversion could be good for you," Mr. Jeon suggested quickly. Mrs. Jeon appeared behind them, looking dreadful and shaking her head no to her husband. Mr. Jeon's eyes caught her and averted to Jungkook again. "I don't want to rush you in anything, son," he gently patted his shoulder. "Think about it and we'll talk whenever you are ready."
Jungkook looked down and nodded. "I'll think about it."
"There's no rush, really," Mr. Jeon tried again, smiling in a friendlier way, his fingers deftly caressing Jungkook's shoulder.
"I understand." Jungkook stood up, making his father mirror him.
Not before flashing a weak smile, he walked toward his room, disappearing soon. Mr. Jeon sighed. "What was that about?" His wife chided.
"I honestly think it will help him," the man answered, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"He mightn't think in the same way. Please. He needs his time." The woman said, exasperated.
The man nodded silently, averting his eyes to the TV screen. Mrs. Jeon looked at her mother-in-law, who was crocheting sitting on her lawn chair by the window. "I'll see you at dinner," Mr. Jeon cuffed his sleeves before placing a kiss on his wife's forehead.
She smiled.
He nodded once before beelining towards the door.
Mrs. Jeon slumped on the couch with a loud huff and heard the elderly woman laughing out loud. Her troubled eyes glared at her. "What's so funny?"
"He's scared of you," the woman laughed louder. "You never know how to take advantage of it."
Jungkook's mother rolled her eyes and despite wanting to sink into the couch, edged towards the old lady. "What are you doing?" She asked, pacing closer to her.
"I am making a sweater for Kookie."
Now, Mrs. Jeon found her smile as she stared at the red thread in her mother-in-law's hands. "He isn't a kid anymore, Eomma. He's not gonna wear it."
"Of course, he will." The senior barked and gestured with the back of her hands to shoo her daughter-in-law away. "Go now. I have work to do. Unlike you."
"Unlike me?" Mrs. Jeon held her waist, popping her hip out as he looked down her nose at the lady sitting on the chair. "Who takes care of laundry, shopping, hosting dinners,-"
"The maids."
"I cook too sometimes!" Mrs. Jeon squalled, her lips pouting.
"You sure do." The elderly mumbled, nodding her head in faux agreement.
"Your medicines. Ha! I remind you every day to take them."
"Not before my alarm does."
Mrs. Jeon puffed and scurried away, leaving the elderly to smile fondly at her.
**
Jungkook walked into his closet and looked at his clothes. Shiny, colorful, somber, and classy. He didn't know what was his style anymore. For six years, he had learned to adorn the grey uniform. Now that he was back, his mother took him shopping two days ago and bought him all kinds of clothes ranging from t-shirts, bomber jackets, jeans, chinos, and suits. He just didn't know which ones defined his personality anymore.
It wasn't just clothes, he was confused about everything. Aside from still craving his favorite food, he felt in his core that everything about him had changed. He sat down on the floor over the rug and stared at the collection.
Feeling like an interloper, he couldn't envision his purpose anymore. It was a blatant fact that he was an heir to the Jeon hotel enterprise, but he couldn't see himself following his father's path. The last time he lived with his parents, he was seventeen, and now he was in his mid-twenties, clueless, mentally unstable, and unemployed. He thought his father was right. He needed to do something for a living.
Taking out his phone, he replied to a few texts from Frans with a small smile. Jin didn't text him, nor did he meet him in the facility after he'd told him about leaving. It didn't bother Jungkook. In fact, he felt relieved that Jin wasn't reaching out. If Jin did, he wouldn't what to do with it.
The moment he'd left the facility and gotten in his father's car, the first person he'd thought of was Jimin. What was he up to? Was he happy? Was he successful? Was he happily married? Did he have any kids?
When he'd decided he was leaving the facility, he'd downloaded the chat app on his phone just to get a glimpse of Jimin's picture on his profile. The chat room was long since abandoned. No one used it anymore except Taehyung, which Jungkook found out accidentally while he was online. He had logged off too quickly so that the other man would be unable to text him. The last two times he went online there, he caught a glimpse of Jimin's profile showing a green dot.
It made him panic so extensively that he deleted his profile and uninstalled the app from his phone, but now, he was regretting it. He felt a strong urge to see that tiny 190px face again and find out about Jimin, despite being aware of how bad an idea it was. Bad was an understatement. Losing his generational wealth on the gamble would be a bad idea. Wanting to look for Jimin was an utter disaster.
He closed his eyes and leaned back on the sliding door on the wall, his foot tapping against the floor, contradictory thoughts constant and silent companions. His left hand was shaking when he threw his phone a little ahead of him, deciding that he was going to stop thinking about the man who would never do him any good.
The chime on the phone made him open his eyes and reach for the device. Picking it up, he saw Frans' new text.
Eating the last Toblerone you gave me.
Jungkook got up suddenly, feeling a sudden sense of commitment coming to him out of nowhere. His hand reached towards his mustard yellow suit magnetically. After an hour, he was walking out of his room when his grandmother caught sight of him and called for him.
He turned to see her and smiled at her. "Come here," the woman gestured to him with her hand.
Jungkook obediently trodded to her and crouched in front of her legs, seeing the crocheted sweater in her hands. "You making this for me?" He jutted his chin towards it.
"Yes," the woman beamed. "Your mother says you won't wear it."
"Nonsense," he shook his head. "I'd wear it in August."
"YOU HEAR THAT?!" Grandma woman hollered. "He'll wear it!"
Jungkook lightly chuckled at that. At least nothing had changed between his grandma and Eomma. "Where are you going?" The woman now asked, satisfied by the silence from her daughter-in-law.
"To do something important." Jungkook offered a vague explanation.
"Don't you dare leave this time." His grandmother asked sternly. Jungkook always adored how strong she was. She never showed vulnerability, never wept, or at least, never in front of anyone. And right now, she might as well have been thoughtful and nothing else, but it still sent a pang spiraling straight into Jungkook's heart.
"I won't leave. I am a grown man, Grandma. I will have to go out there to do something with my life at some point." He offered weakly.
"You know what I mean," the woman raised her brows. "Your father worries. You don't know it, but he hasn't been himself since we heard on that ghastly phone call that we almost lost you." She sighed softly. Jungkook had least expected the serious talk from her. It was a surprise his mother wasn't the one to discuss this. He thought perhaps she was still afraid that if she said something, he'd up and leave.
Everyone was walking on eggshells around him, and he felt untrustworthy and incapable. He sure was glad that his grandma was offering him tough love. "You understand how your mother is. Sentimental to a fault. She doesn't recognize her own strength, but they have suffered, son. I don't want anything happening to my grandson again."
Jungkook held her hand and brought it up to his lips to kiss her fingers. "I won't worry you again. I promise."
"Good." She stared at his face so profoundly as if to scratch the surface to find out what lurked beneath and heal it with her magical touch.
"I'll be back before dinner."
The woman nodded and blessed him silently with a prayer before he could close the door behind him.
He wasn't comfortable behind the wheel yet, so he asked the driver to take him to the convenience store.
A considerable amount of eyes turned to him walking in a suit, but those gazes didn't bother him. He felt thankful for the multilayers of his suit. Perhaps this could be his new style.
He gathered snacks, and chocolates, especially Toblerone in his cart. When he reached the billing counter, he looked at the young girl and suddenly remembered his own part-time job back in Germany. "Could you please get all this wrapped? I need to ship these to Europe." He told the girl and she looked at him in confusion. Nonetheless, she did what was asked without asking questions and Jungkook carried the box outside.
His driver lunged to get it from his hand. "I am giving you the address. Please ship them to Frans." He apprised the driver, who mumbled a 'yes sir' while continuing to walk back to their car in the parking.
Jungkook scribbled the address on the box and the driver then dropped it at the post office.
He oddly felt good about himself. It might've been something so small, but he tried to picture Frans' smile when he received that box.
The facility restricted outside snacks and liquor. Though it wasn't exactly prohibited by rule, it was encouraged to not indulge in things from the outside world. The facility was a little planet on its own with unwritten rules that everyone had to abide by. Although he was feeling much more productive, he didn't know what else to do. The day was still young, but with no other options, he asked the driver to take him back home.
As the car drove past the skyscrapers glistening in the sunlight, he kept thinking about the future. Perhaps he could start by renting a place to himself. Knowing his parents, they wouldn't take the news kindly, but he knew he couldn't stay with them for long. He needed to figure out his situation and be independent not for anyone else but to gain his own confidence back.
He just didn't know where to start and that was when he was reminded of the promise he'd made to Frans. Perhaps he could start by making good on it. With a loose strategy in his mind, he felt a bit more oriented than he was in the morning.
Heading home didn't feel as empty-handed as it did last week.
An hour had safely passed since he stepped out and the moment he walked back inside, he found his mother lying on the couch, pale as a ghost while her grandmother soothed her back. "Eomma," he rushed to her and bent down to check her.
"Kookie, you are back." The woman breathed better once she saw her son's face. She quickly sat up with urgency and pulled him close in a hug. Her shoulders shook as she let go and wailed her eyes out. "I thought you wouldn't come back."
Jungkook's eyes started dropping tears even when he didn't actively try to cry. He did this. He didn't only jeopardize his own life, but he also made his family fear for him every second of their lives.
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30 Aug, 2023