Chapter Text
Jungkook was getting ready to start the day at his home. After the block, he decided not to go to the gallery and try to find inspiration from scratch.
It had been two days since the event. He could still feel his heart race as he thought of Jimin and how close he stood as they talked.
He was amazed by how mundane they must've looked from a third person's eye, but no one could guess their muddy history. He sighed and shook his head to shoo away the thought. He had to focus on the canvas placed in one corner of his living room by the window.
His phone zapped on the floor, vibration strong. He picked it up to reply to his mother, who had been texting him, but saw that it was a message from an unknown number.
Hey, good morning. I am swinging by the gallery today. Are you in?
His heart raced as he thought about only one person. He had Mingyu's number saved, which meant exclusively one thing. It was Jimin.
He stared at the text again, unable to think.
It's Jimin, in case you deleted my number.
He knew the message had been acknowledged as seen, and he had to respond.
I am working from home today.
No problem. I can plan my visit for another day when you are in the gallery.
Is it something urgent related to work?
I wanted to have a chat about your paintings. But it can wait.
Jungkook's curiosity about his buyer didn't surpass his desolation to tell Jimin that he'd go there. If he could help it, he wanted to avoid the man.
His thumb hovered over the screen to want to save Jimin's number, but then he locked his phone and put it away.
For the remainder of the day, he focused on the canvas, and surprisingly, a melancholic cocktail of colors began to tell a story by dawn. He considered he needed to make it clearer, but for the day, he thought he did well.
When he got up to cook something for dinner, he realized he only had three ingredients in the fridge, so he mixed them all up and invented something that tasted delicious.
Putting the bowl in front of him on the table and sitting on a couch, he dialed his mother's number. The woman picked up after it seemed like she wouldn't.
"Kook-ah!" Her voice sounded high-pitched, breathless.
"Are you okay, Eomma?" He asked, worried instantly why she was huffing.
"I am. I am," he heard some whisper and a ruffle behind her, and frowned. Her way of giggling made him scowl. Having lived with his parents again after the gap years, he realised once again that the people who contributed to his birth often engaged in a physical act of intimacy. It roiled his stomach, leaving his mouth tasting like he had eaten tasteless poached eggs. "What are you doing? Come home if you aren't going to work tomorrow. I will make you something you love."
Her genuine invitation put a smile on his face instead of leaving him annoyed like the last ten times. "I will come home tomorrow and stay there for the night." He promised.
He could imagine her grinning clearly without seeing her. "Okay. I will keep everything ready for you."
Jungkook tried to hide his smile, even knowing she couldn't see him. "Okay, Eomma. I am looking forward to it."
She didn't mention his birthday, and he also continued to put up the pretense that they had forgotten for the rest of the conversation.
Soon after ending the call, he got ready for bed.
Without turning around too much, he felt his lids heavy. There had been a decade of agony where his heart was ripped out of his body while he still tried to breathe through it. A soft sigh escaped his lips, and he felt proud of himself for being able to protect his heart at last. It hurt less, and he had more acceptance of reality each passing day.
**
The next morning, he woke up earlier than usual and checked his phone. There were no birthday wishes. It didn't bother him too much, like it would have been in the past if no one fussed about his birthday. He was unmistakably getting a surprise at home at night.
After finishing his morning routine and drinking a glass of milk, he got ready for work.
Walking to a bakery he had been eyeing for quite a long time, he entered and immediately inhaled the fresh items. It was called 'elf's treat' and he thought the name was fitting with what he saw. The cost was about a tad more than any average bakery, but he didn't care.
Buying a blueberry cheesecake for co-workers and a smaller box of chocolate truffles for his mother, he paid for it and continued to walk to the gallery.
The glass doors were locked when he arrived, and he opened them using his access. The first thing he did was put everything inside the fridge and then use the restroom.
He felt positive about today as he walked upstairs, knowing he could make a piece with a different kind of theme.
Maybe he could draw a landscape that he'd seen in a dream once.
He could hear the girl come in after thirty minutes as he set up the blank canvas. Pouring the blue and green colors on the metal palette tray, he'd already begun dipping the brush and smudging it over the cold surface before creating the first stroke.
"Jungkook-ssi?" The girl called out.
"Good morning, K!" He hollered, mouth slightly ajar as he focused on the light second stroke.
"Good morning! You are early today!"
"Yup!" He shouted back. "Had to work!"
The girl understood he was busy and decided it was wise to leave him alone, like always. Jungkook often got so lost that he forgot his surroundings.
He continued to paint and realized that some time had passed. He looked at the watch to be sure and strolled up to the balustrade, leaning down to look at Mingyu. He wasn't there.
He had brought cake for the team, as Mingyu had asked him to, and he wondered if the man was running late. Taking out his phone, he texted the man.
Are you coming today?
Sorry, no. I got something urgent at the head office. I will see you next week.
Jungkook didn't know why, but he felt a punch of rejection. If he were entirely true, he knew the reason.
He was a nobody now. No one cared enough to be present, and he felt sorry for his poor little cake. It wasn't even about a cake that would go to waste. It was about how he wanted to start fresh.
He knew for a fact that his co-worker cared enough to be present for a special occasion for his predecessor, or even the head office peers on their birthdays, but he supposed he wasn't as important to anyone outside his family as he thought. He could never.
Without saying anything, he walked downstairs as he pocketed his phone to take a lunch break and share a piece of cake at least with Kijoo, only to find that she had also left for the day.
An empty feeling pressed on him with double intensity, and he looked at the cake after taking it out of the fridge with his color-smeared hands, eyes barren and heart vacant.
Not wanting to feel sorry for himself, he thought to get rid of the cake. He was walking out, his sleeves still folded up slightly, when he stopped dead in his tracks on finding Jimin.
The older man looked at the younger's eyes widen a fraction in shock before the silent despondency he'd become used to seeing in them replaced it. "Where are you headed?" Jimin asked, taking in his haggard form.
"Um. Just out." Jungkook felt ashamed to admit that it was his birthday. He no longer wanted to be pitiful. He'd thought he wanted to reclaim his power, but he knew that was bullshit. He had no power or influence.
Jimin could tell it was a cake, seeing it through the transparent wrapper on top of the cake box. "Can this wait?" He asked.
Jungkook nodded before turning around to walk back inside. He put the box on the table and shielded it with his back as he turned to face Jimin.
The older extended an envelope to Jungkook. "This is the payment for your painting."
Jungkook gasped a little, shock overwhelming him. He knew his first-ever professional painting was sold, but he didn't expect to get paid for it like this. He assumed the amount would reflect in his next monthly salary.
"Thank you," he grabbed the envelope, feeling the smooth texture between his fingers, the light paper somehow heavy.
Jungkook's heart was still racing when Jimin extended a black-colored Nike logo bag to him. "Here's something for you. Happy birthday, Jungkook."
The young man couldn't decide if he should have pressed a hand to his chest to stop the dizzying feeling first or reject the present from Jimin, even though his foolish heart did a pirouette in joy by just getting a birthday wish from the man standing in front of him. It meant more to him than any materialistic gift. "Thank you," he pasted on a polite smile. "But it's not necessary. You don't have to."
Jimin wasn't surprised by yet another rejection, but was hurt all the same, despite counting his blessings that Jungkook didn't look at him like he despised every fibre of his being. "You are in my team, Jungkook. It wouldn't be okay with me if I gave everyone a present and not you. Please keep it even if you don't want it. It's something small."
Jungkook felt Jimin's vulnerability. Then his senior and now his boss always had an uncanny ability to make him feel good and bad at the same time.
He had to decide, and if he wanted restoration of himself as a whole man instead of a broken one, to see his scars as a proof of greatness and not hurt and vindication, he knew the healing journey to his fresh self-discovery demanded forgiveness at some point. Maybe he could be powerful, too, after all.
Forgiveness didn't mean erasing the past or his afflictions; it was more about freeing himself from its control, so he could lay a healthy foundation for his future. Silently and slowly, he reached for the bag, and Jimin extended it further, a smile splitting his face, which the younger chanced a glance at and paused in the middle of accepting the present, losing all sanity, his mind overwhelmed with the vision Jimin was presenting him with.
His cheeks burned, and he looked away, the image stuck in his brain for the foreseeable future. "Thank you. Now, I know I am late, but I hadn't forgotten. Do you want to wind up here and go to the head office so we can all share the cake?" Jimin offered easily, and Jungkook's cheeks burned once more for another reason. Embarrassment.
"I don't feel up to it. But you can take this and distribute it among them." He proposed quickly.
Jimin stared at him for a long moment before walking around and began to open the box. He was careful as he pulled away the carton, not to damage it so it could be repacked, and picked up the candle and the knife that were taped to the side.
"What are you doing?" Jungkook asked when Jimin deftly walked near the fridge and grabbed what the former found was a matchbox.
"I can't take the cake without the birthday boy cutting it first, can I?" He said with a lilt of amusement.
Jungkook was enchanted by that smile and was transported back to the time when everything was okay in the world, and he was full of hope and fight. When Jimin urged him closer to the burning flame, Jungkook joined his hands in a prayer to wish for the two things he needed in life. Peace and falling out of love with Jimin.
The older was happy to pack up the cake after both of them had their bites and didn't talk unnecessarily, which Jungkook felt relieved about.
"Don't stay too late. It's your birthday." The man told him, and he nodded unsurely before watching him leave.
At last, he felt content with how the day turned out, looking forward to heading home and seeing his parents and grandmother.
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2 Aug, 2025