Chapter Text
The tub is filled to the brim and he hears the final bead fall from the faucet.
Jeongguk’s body is cold, feels almost lifeless. Like a corpse but somehow still breathing. His skin tingles as if ants are crawling inside of it. On his legs, his arms, his torso, his back.
Every gland of his body expands. There’s a toxic greenish yellow liquid that drips down his eyes and falls down his cheeks.
Jeongguk’s been like this for a few hours now. His manager decided to lock him inside the hotel room when he found him passed out, high on the neatly made bed with the syringe still stuck to his arm like it was already part of his own body. A parasite.
He raises his hand with difficulty to swipe his runny nose, tries to clean the liquid from his eyes and the water moves along with him. Some of the it spills on the dark blue tiles that decorate the bathroom floor.
Jeongguk’s hands grip the edge of the white tub until his knuckles turn pale.
This is unbearable. The pain of it all.
He’s going through withdrawal. And he’s going full on cold turkey. It’s like he’s dying. Might as well say he’s dead.
“Are you done bathing?” He hears his manager from the other side of the door.
He doesn’t answer.
He doesn’t want to.
Or maybe he just doesn’t have the energy to do so.
The faucet drips again. It’s disturbing. The silence is pure agony.
There’s a knock on the door again, it’s far too loud. The room vibrates like there’s an earthquake outside, and the voice of his manager echoes as if they’re inside of a dark cave. Jeongguk has to cover his ears to not hear him.
“Jeongguk- You’re not using are you? I’m going inside.”
The emerald green bathroom walls of the hotel turn goldish as the light of the hall reflects on them. They’re only thing in here that Jeongguk thinks it’s pretty.
Days ago he was having the most wonderful time, body leaning against the toilet seat, rubber string wrapped around his arm with the warm substance running through his veins.
He was feeling nothing and everything at the same time. The euphoria.
The gold tones of the tiles of the bathroom were like mermaid scales behind his eyelids.
And they were all calling for his name, enchanting him, telling him to jump in the water and drown him. Finally freeing him from this torture.
The door opens and his manager stares at him and sighs of relief when he sees that Jeongguk is still inside the bathtub, staring at the faucet, not knowing he was pondering drowning himself because dying would be better than going through this pain.
“I’m not doing anything.” He manages to say. Voice weak like it was scraped with sandpaper on its softer parts.
Withdrawal feels like heaven was taken away from you, like the ground has swollen you and it’s just agony.
Every move he makes it’s a pure nightmare.
“Let me help you,” Pedro says. He wears that sympathetic look Jungkook despises.
When he leaves, he comes back with a large white towel and helps him get out of the tub.
Pedro is careful not to let Jeongguk slip.
Jeongguk thinks all his bones might break.
They halt all his activities for an undefined time.
Jeongguk knows he has 9 months before his next album is released. He needs to become brand new— like the Ken doll he had always been— in those months.
For all the media knows he went under an intense surgery and needs proper rest.
“You’re going to a rehabilitation center in the South.” Pedro says, his phone always in his hand. “It’s for the better.”
Jeongguk is wearing a grey sweater, hoodie on and his eyes are low. He can’t really look at anybody. Not right now.
The room is filled with people and he feels shameful because they all know. They all know he’s an addict.
“We have filmed enough content to supply your fans for the time you’re in rehab.” Samira says from the side, her Apple pencil swirling on those perfect manicured fingers.
Jeongguk scoffs.
“You think that’ll help?” It’s cynical and it makes Samira retreat to herself.
“We’re trying to help you here. It’s a great place, Jeongguk, you’ll be surrounded by nature, getting the help you need from people, doing activities, resting.”
His hands begin to shake and he can’t really control the sudden spasms his body decides to outbreak now.
“Can I speak with my parents at least?” It’s Jeongguk’s final question before he accepts it all, even though they never gave him a choice.
“Of course.”
They take a private flight to be as discreet as they can. Also because it’s quicker and Jeongguk is currently going through the worst pain he’s ever experienced in his life. He throws up inside of the plane and tries to calm his tremors down.
Pedro said it’s just a couple of weeks, that Jeongguk's being pessimistic about this whole thing and that he should want to get better.
But he really doesn’t.
Pedro is not the one with constant vomit and diarrhea, spasms, insomnia and anxiety.
Seeing his manager flush away his material right in front of his eyes this morning was agonizing.
“Do you want to die?” He had shouted when he found Jeongguk passed out in the room, body slouched on the corner, eyes rolled back and the only thing he could think was:
As fast and as best as I can.
“Water?” Pedro offers but Jungkook pretends not to listen.
His headphones are on and he tries not to bother with the ache in his stomach that feels like a black hole, or with the scars in his arms that itch and he threatens to reopen.
He focuses on the scenery changing, Don’t Dream It’s Over by Crowded house in the background to distract him from the pain.
“This is for you own good. You’re a star Jeongguk- You were- You were such a happy kid, what happened?”
What happened?
Jeongguk always wondered what life would be like if he stayed in his hometown and lived the same life as his friends back there.
Going to prom.
Having a boyfriend in high school.
Going to college. Going to parties. Making friends. Real friends that stick along with you. Not the fake ones to ride off of your fame.
Everything he does needs to be calculated, perfect. He has no space for error.
But there’s one instance of error. It’s when he’s 19 and he goes to an event in Argentina for a brand.
His body is limp and his head is a mess, it’s the first time in his life that he had too many drinks but it feels so nice to not have any control over his body nor his thoughts.
It’s Trevor, his bodyguard, that finds him first before anyone else can.
“Fuck,” Trevor says as he picks him up, “Mr. Jeon.”
“Trevorrrrr my guy!” Jeongguk’s voice just confirms that he’s pretty drunk.
He may have forgotten his designer jacket somewhere but he couldn’t give a lesser fuck about it.
And he’s more than sure he has lost a Cartier ring somewhere in the bushes as well.
“Nah these bushes are mad comfy.”
“Let’s get you to the van.” Trevor holds his arm like he’s handling a child.
“But I was having fuuun! Did you see me with the guys there? Trevor, this feels so fuckin’ good man oh my God!” Jeongguk stumps and brushes his hands over his face with a laugh.
“Let’s go Mr. Jeon.”
“No, I don’t wanna.” He crosses his arms and poses. “I wanna stay. I fucking love Argentina!”
That’s when Jeongguk loses his senses and Trevor’s reflexes are quicker than usual. The bodyguard grabs Jeongguk before his body hits the ground. He picks him up by his knees, launches his body over his shoulder and walks to the van.
Jeongguk’s head lull’s to the side and he laughs just a tiny bit.
That’s the first time he realizes that losing control is fun.
There’s tiny footsteps behind him as he walks by the cherry trees with a basket in hand.
Bomi wears her little boots and denim overalls. Her coils defy gravity in two puffs that Taehyung’s brother tried his best to put together this morning.
When Taehyung hears a smack of lips he turns around.
Her pouty lips are tinted with the cherries she’s been picking from her own basket.
“Bomi Bear, you’re not supposed to be eating those.” He sucks the inside of his teeth. “You’re supposed to be helping uncle pick them.”
“But they’re good.” She shrugs her shoulders. “I already ate 5.”
Taehyung picks another one and cleans them on the edge of his shirt. He squats down and hands it to his niece, “Here. Don’t tell your father.”
She nods as she accepts the fruit with a smile. “Thank you uncle.”
“Hm.” He smiles back before going back to filling his basket.
Bomi doesn’t really fill hers much, she just likes to go wherever her uncle goes. She can’t reach the cherries just yet so it’s Taehyung who drops a few cherries on her basket to make her feel included in the activity too.
Her father is too busy selling their farm products at a market a few towns over, and Bomi thinks it’s too boring. Spending time with her uncle is more amusing.
When the sun starts to go down Taehyung decides that it’s time to go.
Going back to the farm is a nice walk, especially in this town.
He takes Bomi’s hand in his, drinks in the early spring sun, the smell of cherries and peaches, and reminds himself that the best days of the year are coming ahead.
As they approach their area he notices two things.
The black vans that are parked outside the Summer Garden Center, and the amount of people surrounding it.
He holds Bomi’s hand tighter. She looks up at him and then at the direction he’s staring at.
“What is it?” She asks, eyes scanning with curiosity only an almost 7 year old can.
“Nothing, let’s go.” He fixes his hat and continues walking the path to the Kim farm estate.
“I’ve never seen those many people there before.” She mumbles to herself, looking behind her as they pass by the facility.
“Yeah.” It’s the only thing Taehyung can say.
“Must be someone important, no?” She looks up at her uncle, or maybe to the sky.
“I don’t know Bomi Bear. Must be.”
The room smells awfully of lavender and something else that’s clean, and the walls are the same colour as egg shells.
It only makes Jeongguk’s headache worse. He’s tired from the trip and his current condition.
There’s a single bed that’s on the left corner of the room, at his front a window with bars outside because, of course he can’t escape this place, and a couch on the side of the window for him to imagine his days outside of this place.
There’s also a closet for him to put his clothes, and a private bathroom as well that’s already equipped with towels and the products he already uses back home.
Pedro really took care of everything. If only the room didn’t reek of lavender.
The nurse that comes inside is an older woman, her hands wrinkly and marked with spots that remind Jeongguk of markings on a map.
Her is greyish, reminds him of a silver fox.
Jeongguk doesn’t have it in his heart to tell her to fuck off and leave him and his ache alone.
“This is to help with the withdrawal,” She hands him a white cup with a pill inside.
He eyes the cup and then the woman.
Maybe he does have it in his heart to tell her to fuck off.
“What‘a that?” He asks instead.
“Buprenorphine.” She says. Her voice is sweet and it carries years of experience.
Still, Jeongguk doesn’t really trust her.
“Helps reduce the cravings, sweetheart.” She adds as if she read his mind.
“It’s not about the cravings.” He replies more easily than he expected to.
He slowly takes the cup of water and takes the pill in one big gulp. Even drinking the water makes his throat feel like it’s burning. His whole body feels like it’s on fire but still so weak and unmotivated.
“That’s what most of you say.” She says. “Dinner will be at 7. We’ll bring it to you.”
Maybe she’s used to the initial cold shoulder most patients give her, but she leaves without saying a word.
Jeongguk doesn’t feel like having dinner.
He just wants to stay in this bed forever and try not think for the time being.
He thinks about music and how much he misses it. The passion he held for, and he wonders when was when he lost it.
Where it stayed along the way.
Was it where he lost control of himself?
His soul is not his own anymore. It belongs to someone else now that’s not him.
It’s as if his true self lives in another universe. A parallel one maybe.
He always tries to meet himself again and again and again— but with no use.
A few minutes pass by, he hears the clock ticking and it’s painful. But the pill does help. Better than going without it.
But in the back of his mind, he still thinks about that warm needle piercing his skin, and how wonderful it is to lose control of your thoughts.
“Bomi doesn’t know Korean.”
Taehyung stops cutting the beef rump and turns his head slowly towards his mother. Then he looks at his brother who’s chewing on something he took from the cabinet.
“She knows a little.” Kyungmin replies, unfazed. That only seems to make their mother even more bothered.
“Not enough.” Jangmi insists, a tiny piece of pessimism in her voice.
“She’s only 7.” Kyungmin adds.
Taehyung decides to stay quiet. It’s not his place to comment.
He loves Bomi so much. To some extent she’s also a tiny piece of him. But at the end of the day he’s not the one who’s supposed to educate her. That’s not his responsibility.
“You two were fluent by that age.” Their mother stops rolling the pie dough and Taehyung and Kyungmin look at each other like they’ve been caught doing something wrong like many times years ago.
“Well times are different mom.” Kyungmin rolls his eyes to the back of his head without their mom noticing. “Bomi goes to school and speaks english, she comes home and watches stuff in english. I try to teach her some but it slips.”
“We need to only speak Korean inside the house from now on.” Their mother says and this time Taehyung can see the way his brother's expression changes. “She’s a part of you.”
It’s always been a thing with their mom, ever since Bomi’s mom announced she was pregnant.
Jangmi loves her grandchild dearly. It’s her only grandchild, how could she not? Sometimes she feels she loves her more than her own sons.
But she unconsciously tries to conceal Bomi’s other half. And Kyungmin doesn’t really like that.
Maybe because she doesn’t really like Bomi’s mother.
Maybe because their mother is far too proud.
“Tae, when’s the rodeo?” Kyungmin asks to shift the conversation.
“Friday night. I’m so ready, hyung.” Taehyung tries to sound as enthusiastic as he can.
“I don’t like you going to those things.” Their mother speaks and she pours the sweet cherry filling on the tray.
The smell makes Taehyung’s mouth water.
Taehyung sucks the inside of his mouth. “I’ve been doing it for years, ‘ma needs to enjoy it and stop worrying about me.”
He places his large hands on his mom’s lean shoulders and places a kiss on her cheek like he always does when she gets grumpy.
And just like every other time, she just gets grumpier.
“Go cut the meat,” she says in Korean this time.
He laughs.
“Yes mom,” He replies in Korean too.
The worst part people don’t tell you about addiction is that you don’t exactly crave the reliable feeling it gives you.
Well at least for Jeongguk it was almost never about it to begin with.
It’s never about feeling good. The euphoria is good, yes, but he craves the mess.
The fucking chaos in his mind that he can’t run away from. Likes the feeling of being chased but he can’t see by who or what.
So no. It’s not about popping a little molly at the party to feel the beat of the music course deeper through his veins, nor is it the rush of cocaine that makes the pump of the night feel more alive and vivid.
The drugs bring chaos to his mind and he shamelessly can admit he became addicted to that.
And now.
Now he’s going through hell.
They said withdrawal from opiates is like dying but you’d still be alive the whole time to feel it.
Jeongguk can only confirm it.
Somehow at night it becomes a worse than the fucking hours in that hotel bathroom after he freaked out over Pedro flushing away his entire stash.
It takes him a while to recover.
He spends nights in cold sweat. They have to change his sheets every night because they’re soaked by the morning.
He throws up too. Feels like he’s about to spew all his organs out on the fucking toilet.
Every muscle hurts. Every single one of them.
Jeongguk wishes to tear every single one of them and just disintegrate himself to dust to make the pain disappear every single second of each day.
His back feels like it will break every time he moves. And he just crumbles on the room’s floor and he’s weak. So weak.
He walks slowly, blanket wrapped around himself like he’s inside of a cocoon even though the sun shines through the window warning him that spring is just around the corner.
But he doesn’t give a fuck about spring when his body is aching and he’s been throwing up every minute.
He doesn’t care about the birds chirping and the grass being greener when he’s on the floor, crying in pain because his stomach feels like there’s rocks inside and bugs biting his insides.
There’s nothing to cure him.
“Only time can cure you.”
He’s living in hell.
The thing is that he doesn’t know when this will end. They told him it could take days, weeks or even months.
And if he’s being medicated to help the withdrawal, he can’t imagine how it would be like to go through this alone.
“Just end it already.” He had begged the nurses as his body twisted like a tangled yarn in bed, legs kicking because he can’t control those either.
He spasms and it feels like seizures— maybe they are seizures— and it feels like his body isn’t his anymore.
“Only time can cure you.” He hears and the voice sounds like an angel calling him from up above.
“I can’t keep doing this. Not with you.”
“What do you mean?”
The living room is dark except for the blueish light that comes from the TV. The couch is warm from the heat of their bodies.
The windows are open and the snow piles up in the tiniest of corners of the garden of Jeongguk’s house.
Jeongguk sits up. Moments ago he had his head laid on David’s lap and he was almost falling asleep with the sound of the TV on.
Now he’s fully awake. His pupils are smaller and it scares David a bit.
“The pressure of everyone is too much for me.” David says with an awkward look. He’s not staring Jeongguk in the eyes.
“We’ve talked about this.” Jeongguk raises an eyebrow. “I don’t care for what people say about you and I.”
“But I do.”
Jeongguk is taken aback. He shakes his head and makes a face of disbelief. Lips tight and nose scrunched.
“You’re used to it. I’m not.”
David had caught Jeongguk’s eye the moment he saw him.
He was a fresh face in Hollywood after he starred in a movie that went viral. A beautiful thing really. A boy falling for another boy, cinematic relief, somewhere in Istanbul where they’d meet at night and the ending was tragic but still lingered with hope.
Jeongguk cried while watching it. More so because he thought David was beautiful.
He was exactly what Jeongguk always went for. He preferred younger guys, smaller than him, more fragile. He liked to take control of things.
“You have to get used to it at some point.” Jeongguk stands up from the couch and it’s ugly when he gets angry. He’s a storm that breaks out.
David never experienced it firsthand, but he had seen it with other people. Jeongguk hid his temper well. Especially from the public eye.
He’s the nation’s boy. Everybody loves him. How could they not?
“I know but-“
“Yeah just leave.” Jeongguk crosses his arms and his mind starts blacking out. He thinks of the sack of powder he has upstairs.
“Let me explain.”
“You said it yourself. You can’t do this with me, right?”
David sighs. “This life you have, it's not what I saw for us.”
Jeongguk runs his hands over his face. He can’t believe they’re having this conversation now. Really.
“The drugs it’s… I don’t like it.”
Jeongguk stills.
“It’s just for fun at parties. It’s not like I’m a fucking addict.” He explains, lying to David. Mostly, lying to himself.
David stays silent.
“What?” Jeongguk snaps this time and sees the younger jump where he’s sitting. He doesn’t look him in the eye still.
“I saw it. The syringe and all. The flask.”
Jeongguk bites his jaw. “I didn’t do it.”
“Please don’t lie to me.”
“I didn’t fucking do it. I was-” He sighs. “I was thinking about doing it but I didn’t fucking do it. Happy?”
“Can you throw it away at least?”
Jeongguk sighs and sits back on the couch, away from David.
He rubs his face one more time, frustrated by his mind running a million per hour.
“I want you to fucking leave.”
Before the drugs, the alcohol, he found bliss in performing. His favorite drugs were the cheers of the fans, the warmth of the crowd and the screams of his name.
Music had always been his passion. His own personal little pill.
“Can I have a notebook?” Jeongguk asks the elderly nurse one day when she comes inside the room to give him that same little pale orange pill again. He forgot the name. “I need to distract myself.”
The symptoms have been dying down. Now it just feels like he has a bad case of cold.
He just can’t stop sneezing and has a runny nose.
“Sure sweetheart.” She nods and hands him the water bottle. “How have you been feeling?”
He gulps down the pill. “Better.”
“I’m glad.” She nods. “Wouldn’t you like to go outside today?”
It hits him that he hasn’t really left this room for the past week.
“I’ll think about it.”
She opens the window to let the air inside. He notices the bars are still there.
“You know the door is never locked right? You can come out at any time. This is a ranch. We have horses, sheeps, pigs. You can always come out.”
“It’s hard to want to leave your bed when your whole body aches and you vomit every second and you have to rush to go the toilet because you have painful diarrhea.”
“I’ll bring you your notebook, how about that? And we can sit outside too.” She ignores his comment.
“Wanna sit and talk with me?” He doesn’t mean it to come out as a mocking tone but it just does.
“I’m happily married.” She jokes back and for the first time Jeongguk lets out a chuckle. “I’m Marlene by the way. The owner of this place.”
“I’m Jeongguk.”
“I know. I was the one that took care of your transfer.”
There’s a sudden summer breeze that enters the window. Jeongguk stills because it feels really fucking good.
“Do you know who I am?”
“They had to explain to me. You’re not the first case. Not the last.” She removes the sheets from his bed and puts them on the floor for someone to pick them up later for cleaning. “So don’t worry. And don’t feel bad about it.”
Jeongguk thinks of that.
Marlene brings him a notebook and a pen after a few minutes. It has the logo of the Summer Garden Ranch on the front and the paper is of good quality surprisingly.
The pen is of onyx black ink that reminds him of the pebbles of the beach from when he was a child.
He writes something down.
The ink is smooth against the paper.
He always found peace in placing his thoughts on paper. Somehow it’s alleviating.
Running from my own life now — he writes.
Taehyung picks up Bomi from school like he usually does.
She sits on the other side of the truck, her little legs swinging and she mumbles to the music from the radio, stumbling on the words she doesn’t know.
Today she wears her natural coils all out. Taehyung tried to help Kyungmin doing her hair that morning to the best of their abilities.
Youtube tutorial was on and everything.
She holds her backpack to her chest and continues to sing along. Then she stops when she remembers something.
“Can we see the sheep in the ranch today?” She asks.
Taehyung’s hands grip the steering wheel. “Only the sheep ?”
“Only the sheep …” She mumbles.
“Do you have homework?”
“Nope.” She pops the P like a can of soda.
“Do you promise not to tell your father?”
“I promise!” She makes an X over her heart.
“We can ask Marlene, aight?”
“Aight!” She repeats, imitating him.
He parks his truck outside the ranch’s gates and for his luck it’s Marlene who’s outside.
Next to her sits a younger man. He looks startled by Taehyung’s presence and Taehyung is equally surprised to see him too.
He’s handsome. He looks tired but Taehyung can still see how attractive he is.
His eyes, the colour, are dark like chocolate melts and even though Taehyung can clearly see he’s built, there’s a certain boyish innocence in his face. Those eyes haunt him.
“Marleeeeeeene!” Bomi runs to her instead and that seems to snap Taehyung out of this locking gaze.
He fixes his belt and his hat and walks her way. His boots scrape the ground, and those same eyes follow his every move like a hawk.
“Hi Bomi,” Marlene says as she stands up, putting some distance between them and the other man who clearly looks like he wants to avoid any sort of attention towards him.
It’s impossible with a face like that.
Taehyung takes out his hat to greet Marlene for a second and then puts it back on. “Hey there Marlene.”
“Good afternoon Taehyung.”
“We only want to see the sheep!” She giggles looking up at the ranch owner. “Can we?”
Taehyung gives her an apologetic look and Marlene understands. “We won’t take long.”
“Of course you can see them .” She pulls out a string of Bomi’s curl to watch it bounce back up.
“It’s the thing with only raising horses.” He says taking his niece’s hands. “She only likes sheeps!”
“Uncle lets goooooo!” She drags him by the hand and he follows along.
“Thank ya’ Marlene.”
When the man—Taehyung as he heard— goes away, Jeongguk's heart starts beating again.
Did he recognize him?
Was he going to tell the media he was here? Why was he staring at Jeongguk like that?
His heart pumps faster.
“Marlene, I need to call my manager.” It’s the first thing he tells her when she comes back to sit next to him.
“Like right now?” She asks and he nods. “Are you feelin’ alright darlin?”
“I am just- It’s urgent.”
“Alright.”
There’s an old cellphone that’s stuck to the wall and he dials Pedro’s number. The man answers after three rings.
“Hello?”
“Pedro.”
“Jeongguk?”
“Hmm I think someone recognized me here so- If anything comes out what do we do?” He says it and he feels like he has cotton inside his mouth.
“We chose that ranch for a reason. Every celebrity with addiction goes there for a reason.”
Jeongguk goes silent.
“It’s in the middle of nowhere so the chances of them knowing you it’s minimal. It's not known either.”
“I want to leave this place I want to go home.”
“Nope. Not until you’re 100% recovered.”
Something within Jeongguk snaps. “You think this shit will help me?”
“Jeongguk.”
“No. You throw away my stuff, make me go through withdrawal on a fucking bathroom alone. I thought I was going to die because of you- I hate it. I want- Even if I recover I’ll go back to it Pedro, you don’t get it no one gets it how much I need that shit.”
“You’re a star, you can’t just do that, it's the cravings talking. You’ll be better.”
“It’s not fucking cravings it’s never about cravings.”
“That’s what all of you say.”
“You’re talking to me as if I’m an addict.” He snaps and this time it echoes through the hall and there’s heads turn his way, patients, nurses the spirits that linger.
He wants to break this fucking phone and some part of Pedro’s body.
“I’m not the one in a rehabilitation facility, Jeongguk. Now focus on getting better cause you got an album to release in 9 months.”
It’s his breaking point.
The last drop from the faucet until the anger spills all over the bathroom floor and he drowns in it completely.
The burn, the rage, the violence.
“Fuck you. Fuck you Pedro genuinely from the bottom of my heart, fuck you and everybody in that company I fucking hate every single one of you.”
He takes the phone and starts smashing it against the wall. He hopes Pedro hears it on the other side of the line.
In a matter of seconds he has his arms restricted by two men.
“Fucking let go!” Jeongguk screams, legs kicking, heart pumping with the want for violence, to hurt somebody. “I said let go!”
“Mr. Jeon is better to-“
“Fuck you.” He spits on the floor and his hair falls all over his face.
Marlene is not there to see it and a part of him is relieved and also frightened— because, why does he not want to disappoint her because of this?
He quits fighting when he notices the men are stronger than him. It’s only fair, they grew up in the countryside after all. They probably think Jeongguk’s just another coddled rich city boy who had nothing better to do other than drugs.
They drag him away and the time stops. His eyes meet someone’s.
It’s a woman, in her late 20's most likely.
Long thin braids that drop down her back like willow leaves, her skin is of a cognac colour, as if the sun itself shone through her.
She curls an eyebrow as she watches him get dragged away, as if she wasn’t in the same place as him, in the same situation.
He only eats the veggies for dinner and the nurses think he’s going to freak out again.
“I’m not going to do anything I swear.” He says as he picks at the mashed potatoes with the spoon. The food here doesn’t even look bad.
It’s just that he can’t even taste food. It’s like he’s tasting air.
He cleans the tip of his nose and then stares at the dessert.
It’s a cherry mousse cake. He eyes the logo and notices the Hangeul written in it.
“Do you only work with this brand?”
“They’re the only ones in town that make desserts for us.”
“Can I make a request?”
The nurse raises her eyebrow.
Jangmi raises her eyebrow as she reads the Hangeul on the paper.
“ Cherry Cheong ? Who even requested that?” She reads the paper Marlene gave her. She sits at the stool. It’s her day off and she wears normal clothes.
Her hair is tied in a bun and she wears a loose dark blue dress that’s the same colour as the sky before the last rays of the sun disappear.
“We have someone at the center. I believe he’s also Korean. He noticed the desserts are made by a Korean local business and requested this.” She nods at the paper. “He even wrote it in…” Marlene makes a gesture with her hands for Jangmi to correct her.
“Hangeul.”
“What is it even? The dessert I mean.” Marlene asks curious.
“It’s just a cherry syrup we make. It takes about a week to make, can the patient wait?”
“He can. He’ll be there for a while.”
“Hm. Yeah I can make it for him. He’s Korean you said?”
“I guess he is.”
“What’s his name?” Jangmi asks as she starts plucking the cherries from the stems.
“I can’t say.” Marlene confesses. “I can’t say on a normal basis but with this one I signed a very very exclusive contract. Never had a patient like this one before.”
She joins Jangmi to help her with the cherries.
A week passes by a blur and Jeongguk is sure he disassociated most of the time. He watches the wind blowing softly against the tree outside and the smell of cotton candy suddenly fills the air which makes him feel even more sick.
He doesn’t stay in his room any longer. He finally doesn’t feel as sick to the point of not leaving the bed for hours. Marlene makes sure to take him outside too.
She says he looks like a ghost which he knows she’s joking about, but he definitely looks like one.
He sits on the couch next to the reception and he draws something that doesn’t exist on his notebook.
“Howdy,” He hears the voice and his ears perk up at the baritone. He eyes it from the side and it’s the same cowboy from days ago. Taehyung is he recalls.
“Hey Tae.” The receptionist seems to already be familiar with him.
“This week we have cherry pies,” He pats the boxes stacked on the table.
He hasn’t noticed Jeongguk yet. Probably because he made sure to blend himself with the couch.
“Do you have anything for me?” She asks with a flirty voice and Jeongguk rolls his eyes and goes back to shaping the eye of the— he doesn’t even know what he’s drawing anymore.
“Unfortunately not but, some patient made a special request from us.” He says and this time Jeongguk turns his body around to look. The man takes out a jar of the Cherry Cheong from the bag and Jeongguk’s eyes widen.
They really did it.
“What that?”
“Cherry Cheong.” It’s Jeongguk that replies and suddenly the man’s eyes are on him.
Now.
Jeongguk has never really been much into cowboys. Not into men who are almost as buff as him.
But God did they spend the time making this one.
“It’s for me.” Jeongguk says it in Korean and he forgot he has a lisp when he speaks it. It’s been like that ever since he was a child.
The man, Taehyung as Jeongguk knows (After Marlene he’s the only other person here that Jeongguk knows the name of), twirls the jar and looks at the cherries inside.
“Why Cherry Cheong?” He asks suddenly, in Korean as well.
His voice sounds even deeper in Korean and Jeongguk has the fucking nerve to feel his body tense. Over a cowboy. Who’s hot as fuck and makes him question his taste in men.
“Wanted to know if you’d actually do it.” He replies and his voice doesn’t sound as weak anymore.
“Well it’s here. Hope it’s for your taste.” The man says. There’s a pause in which he expects Jeongguk to say something but the he doesn’t, just goes back to doodling something.
Taehyung presses his lips together and takes care of the invoices with the receptionist.
Marlene has been a great company.
“That cowboy.” Jeongguk is the one that brings him up.
She turns her head towards him as she places the white little cup with the tiny orange pill inside.
Jeongguk laughs to himself because it’s so ridiculous at this point.
“You need to be more specific.”
“Taehyung.”
Marlene widens her eyes in surprise for a bit but then conceals it well after. “How do you know him?”
“I saw him a couple of times. What’s his deal?”
“What do you mean?”
Jeongguk shrugs his shoulders, waits for Marlene to open the water bottle because he just can’t since he lost the force in his hands, and drowns the pill down.
Maybe Jeongguk can tell her that he can’t really take that man off his head for whatever reason. Maybe it’s because it’s hard to wrap his head around him as a concept.
Handsome as a motherfucker.
He’s supposed to be on a magazine cover, not stuck in a middle of a fuckass town living a humdrum life.
“Just cause. It seems like you may know about him.”
Pedro told him to avoid the group sessions for the risks of someone recognizing him but the solitude starts to become unbaring at some point, even for him.
Marlene, on the contrary, encouraged him to join the group session that evening after dinner.
See, Jeongguk doesn’t really want the help. He just wants to know why everyone else is there. If they’re in the same situation as him, and if they also think the world is unfair and ugly.
So when he sits down, comfy in his sweater and trousers, the longer strands of his hair tied to the back and arms crossed eyeing everybody around him. He doesn’t really fit in.
But someone catches his attention. The girl from days ago. She’s there, sitting and eyeing him too. Is it because they’re closer in age? Or does she know who Jeongguk is?
There’s this sudden pinge of anxiety that courses through his body.
It’s not Marlene that conducts these meetings, or reunions or whatever they want to call them. It’s a guy called Paul.
He’s looks just like your average guy. Bald spots, a beer belly, and he’s not in the usual uniform the usual Summer Garden Ranch employees use that Jeongguk thinks make them look a bit uncanny.
He wears a light blue shirt that stretches over his belly, and trousers that rise a bit above his ankle when he sits down. Around his neck there's a tag that reads his name with a picture of him.
“Everyone we have a newguest with us today, do you want to introduce yourself?”
And suddenly every eye is on him. Because they all know he’s new here. It’s been 2 weeks, almost three, they’ve seen him around but he’d always been stuck in his room. They know he has a special treatment or maybe they all know who he is.
At this point does he really care?
“My name is Jeongguk. I’m 27 years.” He tells everyone.
“Hello Jeongguk,” everyone says in a chorus.
“You can tell us a bit more. What got you into the treatment?”
He feels his nose getting runny so he quickly grabs the tissue from his pants pocket. He sniffles.
“Getting emotional?” Paul says in a sympathetic voice.
“No, it’s fucking withdrawal.” Jeongguk says as he cleans his nose and that gets him a round of a few laughs. “I got caught injecting. Was passed out in a hotel room and everybody was worried about me. Crashed out because my man- friend flushed away my shit. Then locked me inside the room for hours.”
Had to cancel his performance due to health reasons— they said.
“That must’ve been really hard for you.” He hears a woman say.
“Was shit. Thought I was going to die- Felt like I was dying. For the following 3 days it was hell.” He sighs. “I was on the plane here thinking I wasn’t going to make it too. So yeah. It sucked.”
“And how do you think your addiction affected those around you?” Paul asks him and Jeongguk knows he just sits there and repeats the same questions to every person. He can't blame him, that's what he was trained to do.
The question makes his whole world stop though. He sees everything in slow motion, like the intro of a really shitty movie you buy at a video store for cheap.
Those around him? The people around him are the reason he is the way that he is.
Fucked up. Mentally.
Anger. Violence.
“You’re like— Uncontrollable what the fuck happened to you?”
“I don’t want to answer that.” He says it.
“Does anyone have a word of advice for Jeongguk?” Paul asks and there’s a few hands that raise.
One of them is the woman that he saw a few days ago at the hall. Today she wears a large white t-shirt that hides her figure but Jeongguk can see how skinny she is by her arms. She pulls her leg towards her chest, lets a single braid fall over her face as she looks at him.
Paul gives her the word first. She clears her throat.
“My advice for you is… Just don’t give up. There will be a time when you’ll look back and thank yourself for this. It’s better to suffer and be clean now than to have your mind a mess and lose everything and everyone you got around you.” She says and her voice is raspy and tired. “Trust me. Losing the people you love is the toughest thing.”
Everyone around nods.
Jeongguk bites the inside of his cheek. A nervous habit.
“Anyone else has something to add?” Paul asks.
“I was going to say the same thing as Daisy,” Some guy says, “But also recovery is never linear. You’ll have ups and downs. You’ll think about doing it in the back of your mind.”
With no one having nothing else to add Paul claps his hands as if he’s a professor in a class.
“Werll today I wanted to talk to you guys about is support systems.”
Jeongguk stops listening.
He just wants to call his parents and hear how much disappointed they are in him.
The next time Jeongguk and Taehyung meet it’s outside in the corral.
Jeongguk leans his arms over the wooden corral as Daisy feeds one of the horses an apple and Jeongguk is just there existing.
She has been keeping him company. Even though he had no plans on making any friendships and laze his days away in this place, Daisy has been lingering like a satellite.
Who knew?
But his attention shifts when he hears Taehyung’s truck pulling up after the gates open, and the security guard permitting the access.
Taehyung jumps out of the truck. He wears that cowboy hat that Jeongguk doesn’t want to admit that definitely does something to him.
He’s in some nice jeans that make him look like he came out straight out of a denim commercial, cowboy boots and a white tank shirt that expose those big arms and a golden necklace.
He walks over to the other side of the truck and opens the door. He helps the little girl from last time, grabbing her under the arms gently and putting her on the ground.
They go inside for a while and Jeongguk shakes his head to remove those lingering thoughts.
“What are you thinking?” Daisy asks him.
“I don’t know what to do when I leave this place.” He half-lies. He was thinking about that before Taehyung arrived.
“Live your life like you normally would.”
“It’s not easy.” He says. “I don’t like the life I have. I mean I used to but… Not anymore.”
“Hmmm.” She thinks. “I think-“
Before she can finish her sentence her name is called.
“Daisy, I need you to come here quickly please.” It’s Marlene’s voice. Jeongguk turns his head to see her. “It’s the sheep.”
Daisy’s eyes grow wide. “Excuse me for a second Jeongguk this is… Important.”
“I’ll be here.” He says unamused.
Daisy leaves, holding her pants which are tied in the back to make it fit.
Jeongguk is left alone for a few minutes.
He looks at the horses. “You guys don’t have to worry about a damn thing in your life.”
“They really don’t.”
The voice startles him.
Taehyung leans next to him and he smells so good Jeongguk has to clear his throat.
So manly and strong. Something with sandalwood maybe, mixed with earthy tones.
“No one told you to join me.”
“You looked lonely.” Taehyung shrugs his shoulders.
“I’m not.”
“Shoot, I can always go.”
“Did you just say shoot?” Turns around to face him and he kind of regrets it.
Taehyung is close and he can see the moles on his jaw, the imperfections that seem to be perfect in this light.
“What? City folks don’t use that?” Taehyung turns to look at him and Jeongguk notices the way his pupils dilate. How he has a double lit and a monolid.
He wonders if he’s also drinking Jeongguk’s features in, or if Jeongguk’s the only weird one.
He scoffs. “Anyway.” He rolls his eyes and looks back at the horses.
“The little one’s Sugarplum.” Taehyung says. “She’s a sweetheart, you should give her an apple, she loves ‘em.”
Jeongguk looks at the apples in the basket below and then at the poney.
He bends down and hisses at how his back aches and grabs an apple. It’s almost instant when Sugarplum comes their way.
“Hey Plumie.” Taehyung says right away and he bends down to pet her head.
Jeongguk extends the apple and she takes it right away.
It tickles when her lips touch the palm of his hand as she munches on the sweet honey apple.
“Do you come here often?” Jeongguk asks Taehyung.
Taehyung licks his lip and nods. “I do. We make the desserts for them.”
Jeongguk wants to ask more questions.
Why did he bring the little girl and why isn’t she here right now.
He didn’t bring desserts this time.
“I know that. But you seem too familiar with this place.”
“I grew up in this town, before this was a rehabilitation center it was just a corral to come see the animals. They used to have rabbits here ya know?”
The fact that he knows Jeongguk is in this position, in rehab makes it so humiliating.
“Got any more questions?”
Jeongguk shakes his head.
“You never told me your name.”
“Why would you want that ?” Jeongguk groans and it makes the other man laugh.
“What I can’t know?” Taehyung rests his elbows just like Jeongguk is.
The wind blows and it makes the curls on Jeongguk’s head move like linen on water.
“Jeongguk.” The younger says before he can think twice. “My name is Jeongguk Jeon.”
“See, it wasn’t that hard,” Taehyung says. “Nice to meet you Jeongguk. I’m Taehyung Kim.” He extends his hand for Jeongguk to shake it.
I know— Jeongguk thinks.
He doesn’t shake Taehyung’s hand just stares at it like it’s a foreign object.
“Ya don’t do handshakes in the city?”
“I didn’t tell you my name because I want to be friends with you.”
“Aren’t you a tough little cookie?” It doesn’t seem to phase the other man a bit. “Tell me was the Cherry Cheong good even?”
“Oh, beat it Kim.” Jeongguk snaps with a bit of poison that against doesn’t seem to turn down the smile from the cowboy’s face.
“Ouch. Just need feedback for my ‘ma.”
Jeongguk sighs. This man won’t leave him alone won’t he?
“It was good. Tell your mom that.” Jeongguk replies.
“She’ll be glad. If you could leave this place she’d definitely cook you a banquet. She misses her country dearly. Were you born here?”
Jeongguk can’t really relate to that. “Both my parents are second generation.”
“That’s something. So you’re kinda like— Have you ever been there? Korea?”
“Every summer actually.” It would be the happiest of his days. Grandparents, cousins. Not being the odd one out for once a few months.
“I would also go there during the summer. My family is from the countryside in Daegu.”
“So you were always destined to be a country bumpkin.”
“Excuse you?”
“Just saying.”
“So now you crackin’ jokes?”
“I wasn’t joking.” Jeongguk retaliates and Taehyung finds it really amusing.
Talking to is so clear, like looking at an artifact inside a glass vial in a museum. Protected but transparent.
But he also drops little information here and there, like pulling the string of a really old winter jacket, slowly not to ruin it.
“Sounded like a joke to me.”
“Whatever floats your boat.”
“But hm if you need anything that you’d like to eat you can ask Marlene. Something that you miss from home maybe. Things that may help.”
For the first time since he stepped foot inside these gates Jeongguk has felt some sort of warmth.
He’s not sure how the next couple of months are going to be, but he’s only sure of one thing:
His smile is like the sun against my skin.
☆
☆
☆