Chapter 6: The Fire in the Room
Jungkook's POV
College parties are all the same. Too many bodies in too little space. Bass vibrating through the walls. Cheap drinks trying too hard to taste expensive.
I didn't want to be here.
But Yuri the girl from the date the other day dragged me in — claiming post-game victories deserve celebration. And when the team wins, people expect you to show up. Especially when you're the guy who used to be the star back home — and now you're just a face trying not to get noticed in a crowd.
But the second I stepped into the house, I knew she was here.
Wonie.
Even her name sounds too much in my head these days.
I hadn't seen her much since... that night. The double date. The smile she wore like armor. The way she said my name like it was a punchline in someone else's joke.
I'd spent years pretending she didn't matter. But now, I couldn't even cross a hallway without wondering if I'd see her again.
And here she was.
Across the room.
Wonie.
She looked...God, how do I even explain it?
That short black dress — off-shoulder, hugging her waist like it was made for her. Her hair was curled at the ends, bouncing softly around her collarbone. She wore small gold hoops and red heels, and her lips were glossed in something cherry-sweet that made my throat go dry.
She didn't look like the girl who used to chase after me in playgrounds. She didn't even look like the girl I left behind without a goodbye.
She looked like a woman who had grown without me.
And Liam noticed. Of course he did.
He was standing right beside her — grinning like a man who didn't know what regret felt like.
Dressed in an oversized black shirt, dark jeans, and that smug confidence athletes carry like perfume. And he wasn't alone.
Her roommate — what's her name again? Grace — was practically stuck to his arm.
As the party pulsed around me, I tried to stay low — in the corner near the kitchen, a beer bottle in my hand I hadn't even touched. I just watched.
Wonie was laughing. Dancing a little. Her cheeks pink, her guard slipping.
And I hated how much I wanted to be close.
Somewhere near midnight, Liam and Grace disappeared into one of the rooms upstairs — lips locked, arms tangled, drunk off both beer and attention.
And Wonie?
She stayed by the speakers, sipping from a red cup, still holding her own.
But then... some guy — tall, long hair, chain around his neck — slid in beside her. Started talking. Too close. Too smooth.
I couldn't hear what he was saying. But I saw her laugh nervously. Saw her shift back. Saw his hand graze her waist.
And something inside me cracked.
I pushed through the crowd.
"Hey," I said, voice flat.
The guy turned. "Yeah?"
"She's not interested."
Wonie looked up at me, sharp.
"Back off," I told the guy again, more bluntly this time.
The stranger held his hands up. "Alright, chill, man."
He walked off, muttering something I didn't care enough to hear.
But before I could even look back at her, she stepped forward — eyes narrowed.
"What the hell was that, Jungkook?" she snapped.
"I was helping."
"I didn't ask you to."
She was tipsy. But not slurring. Not wasted. Just... bold in the way people get when they're tired of pretending.
"You don't get to show up and play hero," she added. "You don't get to interfere in my life like that."
"He was all over you."
"So what? It's my choice, isn't it?" she shot back, hurt flashing behind her anger.
I stayed silent.
She stared at me, eyes glassy but fierce. Then she shook her head, pulled her clutch tighter, and turned.
"I need air," she muttered, walking off.
I watched her leave. I should've walked away too.
But I didn't.
I kept my distance, following her out onto the street — just far enough that she wouldn't notice. Just close enough to make sure no one else would try something stupid.
She walked fast at first. Then slower.
The wind played with her hair. The moonlight kissed her bare shoulders.
She stopped by the edge of the sidewalk, pulled out her phone, then just... stared at the sky. Not crying. Not angry.
Just still.
And I realized...
She's been carrying pain I never bothered to see.
Maybe I was too much of a coward to face it. To face her. To face everything I left behind.
But in that moment, I wasn't Jeon Jungkook — the guy who ran away. I was just a boy who missed his best friend.
And I couldn't look away.