† 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝟱𝟲 †

╭─━─━─━─━─━─╮𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝟱𝟲†❝𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗖𝗨𝗥𝗦𝗘 𝗢𝗙 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗕𝗥𝗢𝗞𝗘𝗡❞╰─━─━─━─━─━─╯

༺ ☠︎ †  𝖁 𝖎 𝖘 𝖎 𝖔 𝖓  𝖎 𝖓  𝕯 𝖆 𝖗 𝖐  † ☠︎ ༻

There's no pain worse than being shattered by the person you trusted the most-the one you gave your heart to without holding anything back.

The person who made you believe in love, who became your reason to smile in a world full of chaos... only to break you in ways you didn't even know were possible.

It's not just betrayal. It's destruction.

And you know what hurts the most?

They move on. Laughing again. Living again.

And you?

You're stuck in the same place, clutching the ruin of what you thought was love.

That's exactly what Taehyung felt. Every single day.

He wasn't perfect but he had always been kind-always the man who kept his heart soft, even when life was hard. He never played games. He never faked feelings. He loved deeply, genuinely, with his whole being.

But life had been cruel to him. Fate, even crueler. And the person he trusted the most? She turned out to be the one who tore him apart.

Evie.

Her betrayal still haunted him like a bad dream he couldn't wake up from, even though it had been nearly seven months. After everything fell apart, Taehyung had left New York behind like a grave he didn't want to visit again. He moved to Washington, telling himself he was doing it for his future, his career but the truth was, he was running.

Running from her. From the memories. From everything he couldn't unsee, unhear, or undo.

He thought time would heal it. It didn't.

That pain? It stayed. It became part of him. Like a shadow that never left, even under the brightest lights. The bitterness only grew, day by day, while she lived her life freely, without guilt, without looking back. That's what hurt the most-knowing she broke him and she never looked back.

And now, somehow, here he was.

The loud music through the surroundings as he stood outside the massive building, his eyes fixed on the glowing sign above: A High-end Nightclub known for its wild parties. The kind of place he would've hated just a year ago-a place he used to judge from a distance, calling it stupid, nonsense, meaningless.

But now, strangely, it had become his temporary comfort. A twisted kind of home.

The guards outside gave him a familiar nod as he walked up. He showed his ID–or maybe just his face and they let him in without a word. They knew him by now. He was one of the regulars. The quiet one who drank alone. Who never smiled. Who didn't speak unless it was to order another round.

As soon as he stepped inside, the wave of heat and chaos hit him all at once.

The place was packed-bodies moving in rhythm under the colored flashing lights, music thundering so loud it made your ribs vibrate. People were everywhere-dancing, grinding, laughing too loud, slurring words. Some were passed out on couches or booths, drinks spilled on the floor. Others were locked together like the world didn't exist beyond their skin. The air smelled like sweat, perfume and alcohol.

Taehyung didn't care.

He made his way through the crowd, someone shoving past him roughly, but he didn't react. He just kept walking, his face blank, his steps slow. He moved like a ghost–like someone who didn't quite belong here, but also had nowhere else to go.

He reached the bar and slid onto a stool, resting his arms on the counter. He didn't look around. He didn't care who was there. He just wanted his drink.

The bartender saw him and gave a small nod, already grabbing the bottle he always came for.

This version of Taehyung-the one who drank almost every night, the one who stayed out in clubs past midnight-would have disappointed the person he used to be.

There was a time when he couldn't stand alcohol. He used to say it ruined people, that it made them weak, that nothing good ever came from drowning your problems in a glass. He believed that. He was sure he would never become one of those men who needed a drink to get through the night.

But now, things are different.

Now, it wasn't about liking it. The burn in his throat, the sharp bitterness on his tongue—he didn't enjoy any of it. If anything, he still hated the taste. But he had started to crave what came after. The slow blur. The quiet in his head. The way his thoughts stopped chasing each other for a while.

It didn't fix anything. It didn't solve a single problem. But for a few hours, it made everything feel distant.

And lately, that was enough.

He accepted the glass without a word and took a long sip, feeling the familiar fire trail down his chest. The bartender didn't ask questions. No one ever did. They'd gotten used to the quiet guy with the heavy eyes who showed up every other night.

And maybe it was funny. Or maybe it was just sad.

That a man who once believed in love so deeply now came here, to this place, surrounded by strangers and noise and temporary highs, just to forget the sound of her name.

He became a heavy drinker since everything fell apart, but tonight was worse. Tonight, the pain was too loud to ignore, too sharp to sit with. So he drank more-glass after glass, as if the alcohol could wash away the memories that wouldn't leave him alone.

But it never worked. Especially not tonight.

Because tonight was the kind of night that reminded him of everything he wanted to forget.

Jungkook and Evie.

The two people who completely destroyed him.

The two people he trusted the most-who left him shattered without a second thought.

He couldn't understand how they could live so easily after what they'd done.

How they could laugh, move on, and be happy while he was still stuck, still hurting, still waking up every day with a heart that refused to heal.

Evie's betrayal with Jungkook wasn't just painful-it broke something in him that might never be fixed. And what made it worse was that neither of them seemed to feel guilty about it. Not even a little.

Jungkook-the man he once called his best friend since childhood-turned out to be the cruelest of all. There was no regret in his eyes. No shame. Nothing. Just cold indifference. And Evie? She played innocent. Acted clueless. But the way she crushed Taehyung's heart proved she knew exactly what she was doing.

He felt stupid. Embarrassed.

How could he have trusted someone like Jungkook?

How could he have believed that Evie loved him when she was sleeping with someone else behind his back?

He thought what they had was real. Even if it was short, he gave her all of him. His time, his care, his loyalty, his love. But she threw it away like it meant nothing. And seven months later, he still couldn't move on. Not when the pain was still fresh every time he closed his eyes.

Evie was his first love-the first woman he ever let all the way in. And she left behind the kind of scars that made it impossible for him to even think about loving someone again.

He still remembered that day clearly-the day she dragged him out of her house like he meant nothing to her. The day she looked him in the eyes and said she regretted everything. Called him the worst man she'd ever met. Said he was a stranger to her.

That memory never left him. It haunted him like a ghost.

Drinking usually helped dull the pain, even if just for a few hours. But tonight... tonight it made things worse. Because tonight, he heard something that completely wrecked him.

They got married.

Evie and Jungkook.

Married.

At first, he refused to believe it. He thought it was some stupid rumor or someone trying to mess with him. But no-the truth came straight from his own father. And that made it worse. His father, who was friends with Jungkook's father, told him casually during a phone call, as if it wasn't the most painful thing Taehyung could possibly hear.

He tried to deny it. Tried to convince himself it wasn't true. But he checked. He searched. And what he found broke the last bit of hope he was holding onto.

They were legally married.

It wasn't some big fancy wedding. No public event, but a legal contract. Quiet, simple... but real.

It felt like someone stabbed him in the chest and kept twisting the knife.

He gulped down another glass of alcohol, the liquid burning down his throat, but the ache in his heart was stronger than anything he could drink away.

He had been so foolish these past few months, hoping that maybe-just maybe-she would regret what she did. That maybe she'd come back. That maybe she'd apologize. That somewhere deep down, she still cared.

But no.

She was busy changing her name from Evie Parker to Jeon Evie.

She didn't just move on—she just fucking erased him.

He couldn't understand how she had chosen Jungkook. No matter how many times he replayed it in his head, it never made sense.

How had her standards fallen so fucking low?

A man like that-selfish, arrogant, careless. Someone who treated women like temporary entertainment, who was only ever interested in their bodies. He never took emotions seriously. He never respected anyone deeply enough to stay.

How could she choose someone like that over him?

To Taehyung, it felt degrading. Cheap. Disgusting.

He had always treated her with care. He never touched her without permission, never crossed a line she wasn't comfortable with. He gave her everything he had-loyalty, love, patience. He tried to make her feel safe, valued, secure. He wasn't perfect but he was sincere. He showed up. He stayed.

And yet, it wasn't enough.

Now she was married to the very man she had cheated on him with.

That was the part that twisted something deep inside him. It wasn't just that she left. It was who she left him for.

And the worst part? It hadn't even been a full year since their breakup. Not even a year since she walked away from him-at first chasing what seemed like physical excitement, something reckless and impulsive and now she was someone else's wife. Jungkook's wife.

Taehyung didn't know what hurt more: the betrayal itself, or the way she never once looked back.

The way she moved on so easily.

The way she chose him.

A tear slipped down his cheek as he sat at the bar, glass in hand, heart in pieces.

He kept asking himself the same thing over and over.

Why?

What did he even do to deserve this?

He needed answers.

No matter how many nights he drank himself to sleep or tried to distract his mind, nothing worked. The ache was still there. The betrayal still haunted him. And now, the fact that they were married-married-made everything worse. It wasn't just a one-time mistake anymore. It was a choice. A decision. And he needed to hear from her why she made that choice.

Why did she do this to him?

Why did she choose someone like Jungkook over him?

She knew who Jungkook was. Everyone did. He wasn't someone made for commitment. He was a man who never took relationships seriously. And marriage? That was the last word anyone would associate with him.

And yet, she married him.

Taehyung couldn't wrap his head around it. It felt unreal, like a cruel joke.

He knew he probably looked pathetic right now-sitting in some dimly lit bar, sulking over two people who were out there living their best lives like they hadn't completely torn his world apart. But he couldn't pretend anymore. He couldn't keep swallowing his pain like it didn't exist. He couldn't keep pretending the betrayal didn't happen.

He was fucking tired of holding it in.

Tired of acting strong when inside, he was still bleeding.

So, without thinking much, he pulled out his phone from his pocket. His hands trembled slightly, not just from the alcohol but from the storm inside him-a mix of anger, sadness, and desperation. He knew he looked foolish. Maybe he even was. But he needed to hear it from her mouth. He needed her to say why.

The bar was loud. Music was blaring. People were laughing, shouting, clinking glasses, dancing too close, some even making out in dark corners-it was suffocating. He couldn't call her here.

He finished the last sip of his drink, the bitterness coating his tongue, and forced himself up from the bar stool. His legs were slightly shaky, the alcohol making his body warm and dizzy. He moved toward the staircase leading to the VIP area-quieter, more private.

Upstairs, the lights were dimmer and the crowd was thinner. A few couples were tucked into booths, talking or kissing, and some were lost in their own drunken worlds. Taehyung found a small couch near the edge, away from the noise, and slowly sank into it, pressing his fingers to his temple as the room spun lightly around him.

He pulled out his phone again.

He stared at it for a long moment.

Should he call her?

Would she even answer?

He already knew the answer. She had blocked his number long ago-right after she ended things so coldly. But tonight, he had a different number. One she didn't know.

He didn't care how it looked anymore.

He just wanted to hear her voice.

To ask her the questions that had been killing him slowly every single night.

So he dialed the number. And waited.

Hoping... begging... that Evie would pick up.

⋆༺𓆩♱𓆪༻⋆𝔙 𝔦 𝔰 𝔦 𝔬 𝔫  𝔦 𝔫  𝔇 𝔞 𝔯 𝔨⋆༺𓆩♱𓆪༻⋆

It was a quiet night in their house. The kitchen light was the only one glowing downstairs as Evie stood barefoot on the cold tiles, half-distracted, stirring the soup she had left on the stove, lost in her own thoughts, unaware of anything else around her.

Meanwhile, Jungkook was upstairs, lying lazily across the bed, one hand tucked behind his head, the other scrolling aimlessly through his phone. He wasn't paying much attention to anything. Just flipping through videos, messages, barely processing a thing.

His mind was blank, not busy, just tired.

The sudden ringtone pierced the silence.

He frowned.

It wasn't his phone ringing-it was Evie's, buzzing softly on the nightstand beside the bed. He turned his head and stared at it, watching it light up again and again.

He waited a few seconds, assuming she'd come in to grab it.

But she didn't.

"Evie, your phone is ringing!" he called out lazily.

No answer.

She was probably still in the kitchen and couldn't hear him over the sound of the fan and whatever she was cooking.

He sighed, clearly annoyed. He didn't feel like getting up. He was comfortable and too lazy to move. But the phone kept ringing.

And something about that irritated him even more.

He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and got up slowly, dragging himself toward the nightstand. His annoyance shifted slightly when he glanced at the screen.

It was an unknown number.

No name. No saved contact.

That was odd. He usually recognized the numbers that reached her-he had a habit of checking her phone from time to time, especially in the beginning, just to see who she stayed in touch with.

But this number? He'd never seen it before.

That made him pause.

He didn't rush to take it downstairs or call her to answer. Instead, his irritation gave way to something else-curiosity.

Who was calling her this late?

And why from a number he hadn't seen before?

He stared at the phone screen for a moment longer, the unknown number still flashing before it finally began to fade. Without thinking too much, he swiped the screen and lifted the phone to his ear.

Silence.

Nothing came from the other end.

His brows furrowed, and for a few seconds, he thought maybe the caller had hung up. But still, he waited. He wasn't in a rush. Whoever had the nerve to call Evie this late at night from an unknown number had his attention now and he wanted to know who it was.

Then, after a long pause, a voice finally came through.

"...Evie..."

Just one word-quiet, low, almost broken.

But it was enough.

It was too familiar. Too close to something Jungkook had buried in the back of his mind. His eyes narrowed slightly as the voice rang again in his ears, coated in emotion. And then, like a switch flipping, it clicked.

No way.

He fucking knew that voice.

His jaw tightened and his expression darkened.

"...Taehyung," Jungkook said flatly, his tone sharp and dry.

There was a small pause on the line, like a breath caught in surprise.

Taehyung hadn't expected him to answer. That much was clear. He had called Evie, not Jungkook. He had wanted to talk to her, not the man who had taken everything from him. There was a shaky exhale from Taehyung's side-like he was trying to hold back the mess of emotions bubbling inside him.

"Why... why did you pick up her phone?" Taehyung finally asked, his voice so low, like he was trying to keep it together but failing.

Jungkook let out a low chuckle, clearly amused by the audacity of the man on the other end of the line. The nerve of him. Calling his wife at this hour and asking why he picked her phone.

"Why did I pick up her phone?" he repeated, his voice edged with mockery. "Why wouldn't I? She's my wife. I have every right to answer her phone."

On the other side, Taehyung's hand tightened around his own device, the muscles in his jaw twitching.

My wife.

The word echoed in his head like a cruel reminder of everything he had lost. The alcohol in his system only made it worse, sharpening the pain instead of dulling it. His chest felt tight but he forced himself to stay calm. Losing control now would only make things worse.

"I want to talk to her," he said, his voice slightly slurred. "Just for a minute. I just... I need to ask her something."

Jungkook didn't respond immediately. Instead, he slowly stood up from the edge of the bed and walked toward the bedroom door. Without speaking, he reached for the handle, shut the door firmly, and locked it with a quiet click. He wanted privacy for this conversation, wanted to make sure Evie didn't walk in and see him holding her phone, talking to her fucking ex.

No fucking way.

He wasn't about to let that happen. In fact, he considered himself lucky that he had picked up the call before she could. He had built all this part carefully, piece by piece. He wasn't going to let any fucker interfere with it.

Bringing the phone back to his ear, a slow smirk spread across his face.

"Wow," Jungkook said with exaggerated disbelief. "You've got some nerve, don't you? Calling someone else's wife in the middle of the night like it's nothing. Where's your shame, Taehyung? Your manners? No hello? No courtesy?"

His tone dripping with sarcasm and intentionally cruel.

Taehyung said nothing at first. He was gripping his phone so tightly his knuckles had turned pale. Every word felt like it was pressing against an open wound. He wanted to curse Jungkook out, to smash something, to let all the anger spill over but he swallowed it down.

"I just want to talk to her... please."

Jungkook chuckled again. God, the desperation in Taehyung's voice was almost entertaining. He actually enjoyed hearing him plead like this.

"My wife doesn't talk to random people," Jungkook said smoothly, deliberately adding salt to the open wound because why not? He fucking loved this. "She has me now," he added in an amused tone. "And trust me, I can give you all the answers you want but you might not like the way I say them."

He paused for a moment, letting the silence stretch. Letting Taehyung sit there and absorb the humiliation. Jungkook could almost feel what was happening on the other side of the call.

From the sharp, uneven breathing he heard through the phone, he knew it was working. He could clearly imagine Taehyung's face right now-tense, hurt, humiliated.

"But hey," Jungkook continued when no reply came, "before we get to that, why don't you tell me how you've been? You kind of disappeared for a while... hiding in some corner of the city like a kicked puppy. What happened, Taehyung? How are you doing? Life treating you badly?"

He was enjoying this. Too fucking much. The mockery in his voice. He wanted Taehyung to hurt. Wanted him to feel small.

And Taehyung... was feeling every bit of it.

Every word landed like a slap, reminding him that he had lost-not just Evie, but the pride and dignity that once came with being her partner. Still, he swallowed his anger. He wasn't done. He needed answers. He needed to hear the truth from her.

Finally, Taehyung's voice broke the intense silence. His words came out slow, almost stuck in his throat.

"You... you married her?" he asked quietly, barely above a whisper. It sounded less like a question and more like disbelief, like he still hadn't fully accepted it and was hoping, somehow, that Jungkook would deny it.

Jungkook heard the question and couldn't help but let out a low, amused chuckle. Poor guy. It must be hard for him.

"Tch... took you long enough," he muttered with a smirk, even though Taehyung couldn't see it. "You're a bit slow, aren't you? But hey... I'm glad it's finally sinking in. Yeah, she married me. It's all legal. Papers signed and stamped. And guess what? She signed them herself. Her hands. Her decision. Her will."

Jungkook leaned back against the bed, completely relaxed, completely in control. His smirk widened as he imagined the look on Taehyung's face, the pain, the disbelief, the helplessness. He wanted him to feel it. Every single second of it.

There was a long pause after that.

From the other end of the line, Jungkook could hear nothing but faint breathing, uneven, shaky, heavy with emotion.

It sounded like someone slowly breaking apart.

Taehyung couldn't control his emotions anymore. The hurt, the humiliation, the alcohol running through his system–it all exploded at once. He shouted into the phone clenched tightly in his hand, loud enough that a few people around him in the club turned to look.

"How the hell could she choose a shitty man like you?" he yelled, anger clouding his mind. His voice cracked, almost choking on the words. "A bastard like you… how the fuck could she marry you? Over me? HOW COULD SHE?!"

Jungkook didn't even flinch at the thunderous roar coming from the other end of the line.

Instead, he laughed, genuinely amused, as if this was the most entertaining thing he had heard all night. Jungkook had always been the type who was confident in himself, brutally aware of who he was. He wasn't even going to deny Taehyung's accusations. Sick, bastard, shitty man—there was no doubt about it.

"Wow… look at you," he said mockingly, dragging out each word with a smug grin. "She chose this bastard, this piece of shit, over you. And now you're crying about it like a sad little boy who lost his toy."

Taehyung couldn't stand the mockery. "You fucker—"

"You think I don't know what I am? You think I care?" Jungkook cut him off mid-sentence, chuckling again, deeper this time. "You can call me every name in the book–fuckboy, trash, selfish asshole and I'd agree with you. I am all of that. But guess what?" He paused deliberately. "She still chose me."

That simple sentence hit Taehyung like a hammer to the chest.

He gritted his teeth, gripping the phone so tightly it felt like it might snap. "You're not the marrying kind. You never were. You think I don't know you? I know exactly who you are—you're a lying, manipulative piece of shit. You play with girls like they're disposable. You don't love anyone. You use people, chew them up, and then move on like nothing happened."

Jungkook stayed quiet for a moment, letting Taehyung's words settle. He was enjoying the outburst far too much. The frustration, the desperation, it was almost amusing. Poor guy. Looks like he'd been hurt too deeply.

But did Jungkook care?

No.

Then he laughed again.

"You're right, Taehyung," Jungkook said, almost admiringly. "Damn, you really were my best buddy. You know me so well. You're right about every fucking thing, I don't love. I don't care. I ruin people. I break hearts like it's a fucking hobby. And you know what the funniest part is? She knew all of that too. She saw everything. Every crack, every flaw, every ugly part of me… and she still married me. No hesitation. No second thoughts."

He chuckled again, twisting the knife deeper.

And it was working.

It hurt like hell–so much that Taehyung couldn't even speak for a moment. His throat burned. His eyes stung. He was sitting in the crowded club, surrounded by loud music and flashing lights, but none of it mattered. Not when the woman he loved had married the one man he now hated the most.

"So if she didn't have a problem choosing me, knowing exactly how fucked up I am–then why does it bother you so much?" Jungkook asked coldly. "If she didn't even flinch, then why the fuck are you itching about it?"

He didn't stop.

He wasn't done rubbing salt into the wound.

Because why not? It was fun for him–showing people their place, reminding them of their limits.

"I never changed for anyone. I won't change for her either. That's not how I work. But she didn't want me to change," Jungkook said, evil amusement dripping from his tone. "She accepted me the way I am. Broken. Toxic. Fucking shameless. She saw all of it and still walked down the aisle."

Of course, Jungkook wasn't going to tell him what kind of game he had played to make that happen. Some truths were better left unsaid. But there was something undeniably entertaining about watching someone suffer–especially when he was the one who had put them through it. And right now, that was exactly what he wanted.

When no reply came from the other end, he continued, a twisted smile forming on his lips.

"So don't look at me like I'm the one who stole her. It's not my fault she finds all this shitty, fucked-up man so attractive. It's not my fault she chose me—the guy who fucks her brains out every night, makes her lose control, makes her crawl for more—over you… the sweet, soft, ‘respectful' little lover boy."

That broke something inside Taehyung.

Tears burned at the corners of his eyes, and for once, he didn't care if anyone noticed him standing in a dark corner of the club. He was already shattered–there was no dignity left to protect. Every word Jungkook threw at him replayed in his head, stabbing at what little strength he had left.

Just imagining it—her with him, choosing him, touching him willingly, made Taehyung's blood rush violently to his head. His stomach twisted. His chest felt tight, almost suffocating. The humiliation was unbearable, crawling under his skin, making his hands tremble.

"You know you're… going to rot in hell for this. Trust me," Taehyung said, his voice broken, anger shaking beneath it.

Jungkook only laughed.

Poor guy. As if Jungkook didn't already know exactly where he was headed.

"You know, it's really funny," he said with a low, satisfied chuckle. "But here's the catch, it's not even my fault that she cheated on you for me. That she crawled into my bed while you were still waiting for her like a fucking loyal puppy."

Taehyung felt the humiliation sink deeper. His breathing turned uneven, his vision slightly blurred. The image alone was enough to make his fists clench painfully.

"And it's definitely not my fault that she agreed to marry me even after knowing how fucked up I am. I didn't beg. I didn't even try. She just… wanted me. And trust me, I enjoy every single fucking moment with her. She's hot, she's wild and fuck—she's so good in bed."

Disgusting. Taehyung felt disgusted, utterly, completely disgusted. He couldn't even find the right words to describe what he felt after hearing Jungkook talk about her like that. For a second, he forgot that Evie was Jungkook's wife as he growled into the phone.

"How the fuck dare you talk about her like that?!"

Damn. Jungkook hadn't expected that reaction. Poor guy still had a soft spot for her, despite everything.

Jungkook chuckled. "Whoa, man. Calm your ass down. She's my wife now, hmm? Don't forget that. I can say whatever I want about her."

From the other side of the line, Jungkook could hear Taehyung's ragged breathing. It was enough to picture his expression. He could also hear the faint background music and with the slur in Taehyung's voice, Jungkook knew exactly where he was.

"Now stop being such a pathetic drunk, crying in some damn club and embarrassing yourself like this," Jungkook continued with a mocking chuckle. "You sound like a fucking joke. Man the hell up and accept it—I'm still better than you. I was always better than you. And she saw that. That's why she chose me."

"You're a fucking asshole. You should be ashamed of yourself," Taehyung said in a slurred voice, which only made Jungkook laugh harder.

"And still she chose me, Taehyung. Over you. That should've been your fucking wake-up call."

Taehyung went silent. He didn't know how to respond. His silence only encouraged Jungkook to press further.

"I still can't believe you're sulking over her like some lovesick little boy. Don't you feel even a little ashamed?" Jungkook asked, his voice dripping with mockery and disgust. "It's been seven fucking months and here you are, drunk out of your mind, crying in public like some pathetic loser. Where's your self-respect?"

A low tsk left Jungkook's mouth, followed by the faint sound of him shaking his head, not that Taehyung could see it but he could hear the judgment in it.

"I still can't believe you're out here wasting tears on someone who doesn't give a flying fuck about you," Jungkook said lazily. "She moved on. Hell. she didn't even look back."

The music in the background thumped against Taehyung's ears but Jungkook's voice cut through it effortlessly.

Jungkook leaned forward on his side of the call, his tone sharpening. The silence irritated him more than any insult could have.

"You want me to remind you what happened? You want a little recap?" he sneered. "Did you forget how she dragged your ass out of her house? How she kicked you the fuck out? How she stood at her front door and threw your shit out without blinking, like you were trash she finally got rid of?"

Taehyung's grip tightened around his phone.

That night.

He remembered it too clearly. The cold air. The door slammed. The way she dragged him out of her house without hesitation.

His throat burned. His vision blurred. He swallowed, but it did nothing to ease the ache rising inside him.

On the other end, Jungkook laughed, stripped of any kindness.

"You forgot the words she said that night? Because I didn't," he continued. "She told me all of it, every damn detail. She told me how she insulted you. How she said she was disgusted with you, how she never wanted to see your face again."

Taehyung shut his eyes. He could still hear her voice from that night.

Jungkook's voice lowered into something almost intimate. Almost poisonous."You know what that makes you?" he asked softly. "A fucking fool. A man with no self-respect. You're still out here crying over a girl who kicked you to the curb like a stray dog. She humiliated you. And yet you're still holding on."

A pause.

"Pathetic."

The word didn't need to be loud to hurt.

On the other side of the line, Taehyung didn't speak. He couldn't. His throat felt tight, his pride bruised raw.

But he stayed on the call. Because some wounds are easier to reopen than to let go.

"You want some advice?" Jungkook continued, that smug satisfaction still sitting comfortably in his voice. He could almost picture Taehyung standing there, still hoping for something that didn't exist anymore. "Be a man. Grow a spine. Stop calling her. Stop thinking about her. Stop acting like some broken little toy left out in the rain. She's my wife now."

He said the last part clearly, slowly, making sure it sank into the other man's head.

That she was his wife.

His.

The ownership in his tone wasn't subtle. He wanted Taehyung to feel it.

Then something shifted. The amusement faded from his face, and the air around him grew heavier. This part wasn't a joke.

"And listen to me very carefully," Jungkook said quietly, "because I won't say this again."

On the other end, Taehyung's fingers tightened around the phone. His heartbeat pounded loudly in his ears. The change in Jungkook's voice—the loss of smugness—made him go still.

"Don't you ever fucking think about her again," Jungkook continued, his voice calm but firm. "Don't call her. Don't dream about her. Don't even say her fucking name in your thoughts."

He said the words calmly. He didn't want to threaten directly, but his tone and intensity didn't help.

And the calmness in it somehow made it worse.

"If you come between me and her again, Taehyung… I'll ruin you. You know I can. You know exactly what I'm capable of. You've seen it. I will destroy every inch of your life without blinking."

This shouldn't have affected Taehyung. He shouldn't have let those words get under his skin. But they did.

Because he had grown up beside Jungkook, he had seen what he was capable of, he knew there was truth in every single word.

And that realization left him speechless.

"And the best part?" Jungkook added, the mockery slowly returning. "She won't stop me. Because she won't give a fuck. Just like she didn't when she left you."

Taehyung swallowed hard. His throat felt dry, burning with everything he wanted to say but couldn't. His hand trembled slightly, but he forced it still.

He had already lost her.

Now he was losing himself. His dignity.

And Jungkook knew it.

But for a long moment, Taehyung said nothing.

Just silence.

Each breath was forced past something stuck in his throat. Rage, heartbreak, humiliation–all of it sat heavy inside him. Another tear slipped down the side of his face before he could blink it away, tracing quietly along his jaw.

And then he finally spoke.

His voice was low.

"…No one lives peacefully after ruining someone else's life," he said. "No one."

Jungkook didn't respond, but Taehyung kept going, forcing himself not to break completely.

"No one sleeps peacefully after snatching someone's peace. No one smiles with a clean heart after making someone else cry themselves to sleep for months."

He swallowed hard. His hands were shaking now, but he tightened his grip on the phone, pressing it harder against his ear as if that could steady him.

"You might be laughing now, Jungkook. You and her. You both might think you've won. But life doesn't let people walk away clean after destroying others. And I swear, you'll regret it. Both of you will. I want you to regret it. I hope you regret every single thing you did to me."

He wasn't saying all this just because he was hurt. He meant it. Taehyung had never done anything to deserve being treated like this. He hadn't betrayed. He hadn't cheated. He had just loved—fucking loved her with everything he had.

"I want your pride to fucking shatter. I want your peace to rot. I want you to wake up one day gasping for air like I do. I want you to sit in silence and realize you've lost everything you never deserved in the first place."

He didn't feel guilty for saying it. Not even a little. People say the curse of the broken is powerful, and right now, Taehyung wanted his words to carry weight. He wanted them to echo. To follow Jungkook and Evie into every quiet moment.

"And congrat-fucking-lations on your marriage."

His voice dropped even lower, each with resentment.

He hoped their lives would collapse slowly. That they would feel what he felt. That one day Evie would truly understand what she had done–whom she had chosen.

She chose Jungkook over him.

She betrayed him for Jungkook.

He hoped karma wouldn't be gentle with her.

Life had a way of balancing things.

And he wanted it to balance this.

"I hope you both have the most miserable marriage in the world. I hope you fight so much you forget what peace even feels like. I hope you suffer–both of you, not for a week, not for a month, but for years. I hope she breaks you from the inside, like you broke me. I hope the same pain you gave me comes back to you, tenfold."

Taehyung meant every single word.

His breathing had grown uneven by the time he finished. His eyes were red, vision slightly blurred. He wiped his face roughly with the back of his hand, but it didn't change anything. His chest still felt tight, like something was crushing it from the inside

Maybe the only day he would truly breathe freely again was the day those words became reality.

There was a pause.

Then Jungkook scoffed.

He had listened to all this bullshit without interrupting, leaning back comfortably, one arm resting behind his head as if this was entertainment. A slow smirk stretched across his face. If anything, Taehyung's curses only confirmed how broken he was.

His voice came through the speaker, mocking.

"Cry more about it, loser."

That was it.

Taehyung didn't wait another second. He hung up, his thumb smashing the end call button like it could somehow silence his pain. His breathing turned erratic. His blood was boiling. His throat burned from holding in screams.

And then—

"FUCK BOTH OF YOU!! I HOPE YOU BOTH CHOKE ON THAT DAMN MARRIAGE!!!"

With a yell of pure frustration, he threw the phone across the room.

It crashed against the far wall, shattering into pieces.

People's heads turned, startled by sudden action.

He slumped back into the plush sofa, chest heaving, fists clenched so tight his knuckles turned white. The music thumped around him, but inside him was only the sound of silence, a storm of memories and unspoken rage swirling in his mind.

His eyes were glassy, bloodshot, lips trembling but he didn't cry anymore.

His elbows rested on his knees, head bowed low, strands of his messy hair falling over his eyes as silent tears slid down his cheeks. The shattered phone lay across the floor, broken–much like him.

The world around him continued moving: loud music but he sat there, torn apart from the inside.

Just when he thought he was alone in his misery, a soft voice broke through the noise.

"Hey… are you okay?"

He didn't look up.

The woman who approached him was tall, confident in the way she moved. She looked mature, bold. She slid into the seat beside him slowly, giving him space, but her eyes were fixed on his tear-streaked face.

"You look like the whole world just gave up on you," she said with a curious expression. "Don't cry over people who didn't deserve your tears."

He didn't respond. He just kept staring at the floor like it held all the answers he was searching for.

But the woman didn't leave. She leaned in gently, her fingers brushing against his thighs. "Some people… aren't worth it," she whispered while looking at him. "No matter how much you loved them."

Her touch lingered a little longer this time. Her tone was soft but her gaze was bold.

"You don't need to torture yourself like this," she said, her voice a little lower now. "I can help you forget. Just for tonight. Let me help you feel something else. Only if you want."

For the first time in minutes, Taehyung lifted his head and looked at her. His eyes were red and heavy with unsaid things.

"Can you really help me forget?" he asked, voice raspy and tired–like someone clinging to a last bit of hope.

She smiled, her hands drift upside, fingers grazing his jawline. "Let me try."

She moved a little closer, her body brushing against his, as she slowly climbed onto his lap. It was bold, teasing, but oddly comforting. Her arms loosely draped around his neck, and she pressed a soft kiss to the side of his throat. Her touch was warm, her scent different–a distraction.

Taehyung closed his eyes.

He didn't push her away.

For a moment, he let it happen–her lips moving gently along his skin, her hand sliding down his chest. He felt something... different. Not comfort. Just a numb escape.

Evie and Jungkook were probably happy somewhere–smiling, celebrating, building a life together after leaving him behind. And here he was, drowning in pain and liquor. Crying like a fool.

Maybe this was what he needed. Maybe this was how people moved on.

But as her touch went further, something inside him twisted.

Wrong.

It felt fucking wrong.

No matter how drunk he was, no matter how broken—he couldn't do this. This wasn't him. It never had been. He couldn't do it.

How ironic that even after everything, he still couldn't take that step. Couldn't cross that line.

And pretending wouldn't fix what was shattered inside him.

He gently held her wrist, stopping her. His breathing was uneven, his heart pounding from the chaos raging in his head.

He didn't want this. He was a man with dignity, and he definitely wasn't going to lose it. He couldn't sink any lower. He wouldn't chase a temporary thrill just to escape his pain. He wouldn't use someone else as a distraction.

His standards weren't that low—like theirs. And Taehyung refused to become like them.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

She looked at him, a little surprised, but she didn't get disappointed. She wasn't here to push. She could see the pain in his eyes–pain no physical comfort could fix.

"I thought I could," he added, voice shaking. "But I can't. I'm sorry."

The woman nodded softly and moved off his lap without a word. Her expression wasn't offended–just understanding. "It's okay," she said quietly. "Some pain takes time."

Taehyung stood up, grabbing his coat from the side, his legs unsteady but his decision firm. The alcohol still clouded his head, he knew staying here any longer would only make him lose himself even more.

He walked out of the VIP lounge and down the hallway, past the booming music and the flashing lights, then he stepped outside into the cold night, his vision blurry, not sure where he was even going.

But in his mind, one thing kept repeating:

They moved on.

They laughed, loved, and started over.

And he?

He was still stuck—broken, lost, rejected.

His parents were disappointed in him too. They had warned him not to let his emotions cloud his actions, not to let love make him weak. And now they barely spoke to him. The once-respected gentleman… reduced to a ghost in a nightclub, crying into whiskey.

He felt pathetic.

But that was the truth now.

That was his life.

†

Jungkook slowly pulled the phone away from his ear, his lips curling into a mocking smirk as the call ended abruptly. Taehyung had hung up–voice trembling with rage and heartbreak, spilling curses for karma.

Jungkook scoffed under his breath.

"Pathetic love-sick fool," he muttered, shaking his head.

Still crying like a kicked puppy.

With an absent-minded ease, he looked down at the phone in his hand–Evie's phone. With no expression at all, he unlocked it using her passcode, swiped through her call log, found that unknown number by which Taehyung had called and he blocked it without hesitation. Then, he carefully deleted the call history–like nothing had ever happened.

Just as he was about to place the phone back on the dresser, there was a knock on the door. A second later, the handle twisted slightly, but it wouldn't open.

"Jungkook?" came Evie's voice from outside. "Why is the door locked?"

He didn't respond immediately. He walked to the door, quickly composing his face, and opened it with casual ease. Evie stood there in her apron, a confused look on her face and a little flour dusted on her hands.

Her eyes scanned his expression, then dropped to the phone in his hand.

"What were you doing?" she asked lightly, frowning. "Why was the door locked?"

Jungkook blinked, as if the question surprised him. Then, without missing a beat, he smiled and slipped the phone into her hand. "I was changing into other tshirt," he lied smoothly. "Didn't want you walking in on me half-naked, did I?"

Evie raised an eyebrow. "You locked the door… just to change?"

He shrugged with fake innocence. "You know I hate being caught off guard."

Evie nodded slowly, unconvinced. "I heard you call my name. But I was in the kitchen and couldn't come in time."

Jungkook chuckled lightly, brushing a hand through his hair. "Oh, that? Yeah, your phone rang–I picked it up. Turned out to be one of those scam calls. Said something about being from some organization, asking for personal info. Complete bullshit."

She looked at him, her brows furrowing slightly.

He held her gaze calmly. "Blocked the number. You really shouldn't answer unknown calls these days. Scammers are everywhere. You never know what they're after."

Evie hesitated, then looked down at her phone. There was nothing suspicious there now.

"Right," she said quietly. "Anyway… dinner prep is done. I came to tell you."

She turned to go, but Jungkook grabbed her wrist before she could take a step.

"Still mad about yesterday?" he asked in a lower voice, eyes searching hers.

Evie didn't answer. She pulled her hand out of his grip gently and stepped back. "Dinner is ready," she said coldly. "I won't call you twice."

Then she walked away, without turning around.

Jungkook stood there, watching her figure disappear down the hall. He chuckled under his breath–bitter and amused.

"Certified idiots," he whispered, shaking his head. "Both of them."

★ ★ ★

—𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗏𝗈𝗍𝖾        𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝗋𝗈𝗉 𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍···୨ৎ