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lovestrippedbare) wrote2019-09-12 02:05 am
lovestrippedbare) wrote2019-09-12 02:05 am
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He makes his way to the top of the building to be closer to the stars. But now that he's here, Jungkook realizes his mistake.
There's too much light in the streets. Even from above, he can hear the rush of every car as it zooms by, the puttering of scooters as they work on delivering dinner to their destination. Even the ghostly echo of voices piercing in the night. Jungkook came here to be closer to the stars, but he finds himself staring at the city underneath his feet instead, legs dangling off the side of the building. He has a few cuts and scrapes on his hands from climbing up the fire escape — he's not meant to be up here, but Jungkook's learned too much from Taehyung by now to be kept out. Besides, he can't imagine having this conversation with his feet on the ground, walking about with the rest of the crowd.
He smiles as he presses the phone to his ear, though it's hard. His muscles are stiff from disuse. But Jungkook has learned from the few months he's watched Hoseok at the restaurant, knows now that the smiles people wear can translate to their voices, even when they don't feel genuine. It's better than nothing.
It's better than being honest.
"Did you think I'd forget?" Jungkook asks, when the phone takes him to voicemail. Closes his eyes, and imagines Namjoon huffing a small laugh, standing off to the side of a gas station, neglecting his duties for only a moment. "Hyung."
The silence breaks the illusion. Just a little.
Jungkook huffs a small laugh, staring down at his toes. The one solace in reaching out to Namjoon is knowing that if Namjoon isn't with them, then he must not be alone. Namjoon chose to follow his family, and Jungkook can't find it in himself to begrudge that. "You probably have other people there," he murmurs, musing at the way Boyeon's face seems to have faded over time. Not Namjoon's, though. "But you've got people here too. At least one of us has to sing right?"
It's months off yet, but Jungkook swears that he can feel the whistle of winter in the wind. The way it makes his throat feel rough, and a little dry. He clears his throat, checks his smile. "Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you," he sings, half breath and half melody. "Happy birthday, Namjoonie hyung. Happy birthday to you."
He wonders if the phone will pick up the sounds of life below him, the sudden honk from a distance. Maybe that's part of the present — a little touch of Seoul.
Only after he hangs up does Jungkook relieve himself of the burden, cheeks trembling as his lips thin. He had thought about gathering the others, as he had every month before, whenever there was a birthday to celebrate. But to gather over someone absent feels too ominous, somehow. Still, Jungkook hopes he's not the only one to sing, and hopes that there might at least be a word from his hyung tomorrow, or the day after. Something to express the gratitude Jungkook's sure Namjoon will feel.
When he gets to his feet, Jungkook hesitates, letting one shoe hover over the edge. A hand follows, fingers weaving through the void. He grasps at the lights he sees shining below, and he feels nothing. Glances up at the sky above, and sees nothing. The quick shift of perspective leaves Jungkook dizzy for a moment, his balance pitching forward, and when Jungkook catches himself and stumbles back, regret immediately settles in his stomach.
It would have been kinder to let himself fall, free from the burden of choice. Just an accident.
It could happen to anyone.
But with the edge now an arm's length away, Jungkook finds himself rooted, immobile. He lingers there for a few minutes longer before turning around, heading back in the direction from which he came.
There's too much light in the streets. Even from above, he can hear the rush of every car as it zooms by, the puttering of scooters as they work on delivering dinner to their destination. Even the ghostly echo of voices piercing in the night. Jungkook came here to be closer to the stars, but he finds himself staring at the city underneath his feet instead, legs dangling off the side of the building. He has a few cuts and scrapes on his hands from climbing up the fire escape — he's not meant to be up here, but Jungkook's learned too much from Taehyung by now to be kept out. Besides, he can't imagine having this conversation with his feet on the ground, walking about with the rest of the crowd.
He smiles as he presses the phone to his ear, though it's hard. His muscles are stiff from disuse. But Jungkook has learned from the few months he's watched Hoseok at the restaurant, knows now that the smiles people wear can translate to their voices, even when they don't feel genuine. It's better than nothing.
It's better than being honest.
"Did you think I'd forget?" Jungkook asks, when the phone takes him to voicemail. Closes his eyes, and imagines Namjoon huffing a small laugh, standing off to the side of a gas station, neglecting his duties for only a moment. "Hyung."
The silence breaks the illusion. Just a little.
Jungkook huffs a small laugh, staring down at his toes. The one solace in reaching out to Namjoon is knowing that if Namjoon isn't with them, then he must not be alone. Namjoon chose to follow his family, and Jungkook can't find it in himself to begrudge that. "You probably have other people there," he murmurs, musing at the way Boyeon's face seems to have faded over time. Not Namjoon's, though. "But you've got people here too. At least one of us has to sing right?"
It's months off yet, but Jungkook swears that he can feel the whistle of winter in the wind. The way it makes his throat feel rough, and a little dry. He clears his throat, checks his smile. "Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you," he sings, half breath and half melody. "Happy birthday, Namjoonie hyung. Happy birthday to you."
He wonders if the phone will pick up the sounds of life below him, the sudden honk from a distance. Maybe that's part of the present — a little touch of Seoul.
Only after he hangs up does Jungkook relieve himself of the burden, cheeks trembling as his lips thin. He had thought about gathering the others, as he had every month before, whenever there was a birthday to celebrate. But to gather over someone absent feels too ominous, somehow. Still, Jungkook hopes he's not the only one to sing, and hopes that there might at least be a word from his hyung tomorrow, or the day after. Something to express the gratitude Jungkook's sure Namjoon will feel.
When he gets to his feet, Jungkook hesitates, letting one shoe hover over the edge. A hand follows, fingers weaving through the void. He grasps at the lights he sees shining below, and he feels nothing. Glances up at the sky above, and sees nothing. The quick shift of perspective leaves Jungkook dizzy for a moment, his balance pitching forward, and when Jungkook catches himself and stumbles back, regret immediately settles in his stomach.
It would have been kinder to let himself fall, free from the burden of choice. Just an accident.
It could happen to anyone.
But with the edge now an arm's length away, Jungkook finds himself rooted, immobile. He lingers there for a few minutes longer before turning around, heading back in the direction from which he came.