Episode 2

Jimin and Taehyung were sitting on the sofa in the lounge, deeply engrossed in a discussion about today's meeting.

Jimin: "I had no idea their company was in such bad shape. It’s a good thing you informed me just in time, otherwise... Dad would have literally skinned me alive! You’re the best, buddy!"

Jimin said this with a wide, relieved laugh. He knew in his heart that if Taehyung hadn’t stepped in, he would have faced a massive financial disaster.

Taehyung rolled his eyes playfully, a smirk playing on his lips.

Taehyung: "Of course, dude. I know I’m the best."

He jokingly adjusted his collar with an air of mock pride; he really did feel a sense of accomplishment for saving the day.

Jimin: "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Anyway, how is your throat now? Are you feeling okay?"

A look of genuine concern crossed Jimin's face. He remembered how much Taehyung had been coughing earlier that morning.

Taehyung: "Yeah, it's better... just a bit of itching," he replied, clearing his throat as if to test it.

Jimin: "If it’s itching that much, why don’t you take some medicine?" Jimin asked, his eyes filled with concern.

Taehyung: "Do you really think I’d be careless about this? I took it, but I don't feel any difference," Taehyung replied dismissively, crossing his legs as he leaned back. "Anyway, when is the next meeting? We need to be more cautious with our decisions this time. And don’t get too comfortable—I’m not so kind that I’ll keep saving your neck every single time."

Jimin: "Yeah, yeah... I know exactly how 'evil' you are," Jimin retorted with a sarcastic smirk. "Fine, I have some points for the next meeting that I need to discuss with you. Hang on, let me grab the file."

With that, Jimin stood up and headed toward his room. Left alone in the lounge, Taehyung unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt, trying to catch his breath. He cleared his throat repeatedly while scrolling through his phone, but the persistent irritation in his throat just wouldn't let up.

From a distance, Mrs. Kim was heading toward the kitchen when she noticed her son's visible discomfort. Seeing him struggle like that, she immediately changed her course and started preparing something in the kitchen to soothe his throat.

****************

After a while, Taehyung and Jimin were hunched over an open file, lost in a serious discussion about their new project. Suddenly, a hand appeared in Taehyung’s line of sight, extending a glass toward him.

Taehyung looked up at the person standing before him. In an instant, the lingering smile on his face vanished, replaced by a cold, visible spark of anger in his eyes. Mrs. Kim, still holding the glass, caught his sharp gaze but chose to remain unfazed, deliberately ignoring his resentment.

Mrs. Kim: "Why are you looking at me like that? I know your throat is hurting. Drink this; it’ll make you feel better."

She spoke with a gentle, enduring smile. Despite the tension, she was his mother, after all—she could sense his pain even when he tried to hide it behind his anger.

Taehyung: "Why did you bring this here?"

Ignoring her concern entirely, Taehyung’s voice was laced with sharp, cold anger.

Mrs. Kim: "Your throat is hurting, and this herbal tea (kahwa) will soothe it. That’s why I made it specifically for you... Now, come on, be a good boy and drink it."

She spoke with immense tenderness, gently bringing the glass closer to his lips, hoping her motherly love would soften him.

Taehyung: "Oh... so you brought this for me?"

Taehyung arched an eyebrow, his tone unreadable. To Mrs. Kim’s utter surprise, he reached out and took the glass from her hand with unexpected gentleness. For a fleeting moment, her heart soared with joy—she thought he had finally accepted her gesture, instead of pushing her away like he usually did.

Taehyung stared into the glass, slowly swirling the liquid around as if inspecting it. But then, without warning, the mask of calmness shattered. He lunged forward and hurled the glass against the opposite wall with full force.

The sound of shattering glass echoed through the room.

Taehyung: "Village people and their pathetic village remedies!"

He muttered under his breath, his jaw tightened in frustration.

Jimin: "Control yourself, Taehyung! Have you no manners?" Jimin snapped, his voice sharp and stern, unable to stay silent at Taehyung’s appalling behavior. Meanwhile, Miss Kim’s eyes welled up with silent tears.

Taehyung: "Manners? Ha! I’ve told her a thousand times that I don't want anything touched or brought by her. Why can’t this woman just understand? It feels like poison to me whenever she acts like this!" Taehyung screamed, his voice echoing with raw hatred.

Jimin: "You could have said that calmly. She only brought it for you—look at how bad your throat is!"

Taehyung: "I said it once, and I'll say it again, Jimin—I want nothing from her hands. I’d rather swallow actual poison than consume anything she gives me!"

Miss Kim: "Taehyung, don't say that... I am your mother, after all."

Her words felt like a dagger to her own heart. Even though she was his biological mother, she had failed to win even a shred of her son's affection. Her only child loathed her, all because she was an uneducated woman from a village, and because of a past mistake where her perceived neglect had landed him in the hospital. She was still paying the price for that moment—enduring the agonizing weight of her own son’s hatred.

Taehyung: "You are NOT my mother! Mothers aren't like you. I only have one Mom—my Bari Mom. Do you hear me?"

He stood up abruptly from the sofa, pointing a trembling finger at her face as he yelled. Every time he saw Miss Kim trying to show him love, it felt like a sick, twisted lie. To him, her affection was nothing but a pathetic deception

"Have you lost your mind? Is this how you talk to her?"

Jimin’s patience finally snapped. It was just a glass of tea, but Taehyung had turned it into a humiliating spectacle. Standing up abruptly from the sofa, Jimin grabbed Taehyung’s arm and jerked him around to face him, his voice shaking with anger.

Before Taehyung could utter a word in response, a booming voice echoed through the lounge, cutting through the tension like a knife.

"What on earth is going on here?"

The voice was heavy with authority and laced with simmering rage.

...****************...

𝗢𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝗶𝗱𝗲

Jungkook stepped down into the courtyard, his eyes scanning the surroundings until they landed on Lusi. He began walking toward her with hushed, cautious steps, as if trying not to startle her.

"Hi, Lusi!" he said, giving a small, friendly wave.

Lusi: "What is it, you psycho?" she snapped, her voice dripping with annoyance.

Jungkook: "I want to go out for a bit... will you come with me?"

He asked her tentatively, his voice filled with a quiet hope. He knew deep down that no one would ever let him go out alone, nor did anyone ever care enough to accompany him. Yet, despite knowing the answer, he found himself asking the same question every single time.

Lusi: "I don't have time to waste on someone like you!"

She spoke with a harsh, biting tone before burying her face back in her phone. She was already fuming because of her poor test scores and the scolding she had received from her mother earlier; now, she was using Jungkook as a convenient target for her pent-up frustration.

jungkook: just for a little while… I need to see outside… Please, Noona.”

There was a strange, haunting helplessness in his voice, like a caged bird pleading for its first glimpse of the open sky. He gripped Lucy’s arm—not with force, but with a persistence that was impossible to ignore.

“What is wrong with you? Have you lost your mind?” Lucy snapped, jerking her arm away. “Boy, why are you testing my patience? If you want to go, then go! There’s the door—open it and leave!”

Her voice was sharp, dripping with irritation.

“You come with me too…” he whispered, his eyes swimming with that same heartbreaking innocence. “I don’t know where to go out there.”

Lucy let out a long, heavy sigh, trying to rein in her temper. “Ugh… good grief. Fine, come on.”

She kicked off the swing, slipped into her slippers, and marched toward the gate with hurried strides. And he… like a child who had just been handed the world, followed behind her barefoot

The moment he stepped into the street, the breeze brushed against his face. A soft smile tugged at his lips as he closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, trying to pull the very essence of the moment into his soul.

“When will this madman leave me alone…” Lucy muttered under her breath. He didn’t hear her. His entire universe had shrunk down to this single, fleeting moment.

He walked beside her, matching her pace, until suddenly—his gaze snagged on something above.

A colorful balloon. It drifted lazily through the air, swaying as if beckoning him. A spark ignited in his eyes. Without a word, he veered off toward it, drawn like a dreamer chasing a phantom. His footsteps slowed as he drifted away from Lucy, who continued walking, completely oblivious.

“Alright, you’ve seen the outside. Satisfied?” Lucy said, not bothering to look back. “And listen, if Grandma or Sis find out I brought you out here, next time—”

She stopped.

Silence. No reply.

A cold knot of dread tightened in her chest. She turned around slowly.

He was gone.

Her breath hitched. “Ugh! Where did this trouble-maker go?!” she cried, slapping her forehead in panic. The irritation was gone, replaced by raw fear. She didn’t just look for him; she began to run, searching frantically, but he was nowhere to be seen.

“Ah… where do I find him now? If the family finds out… they’ll kill me!” Her voice trembled, her eyes shimmering with tears as her heart hammered against her ribs. “That lunatic has ruined me…”

Think… think

…

Suddenly, her devious mind sparked an idea. She spun around and bolted back toward the house—steps frantic, breath ragged.

..

..

Meanwhile…

Jungkook was lost in a world of his own.

He stood on a strange, unfamiliar road. The noise of the city, the rushing people, the blur of life—it all faded into a gray mist. His focus was locked on one thing: the balloon.

He reached out with a light, airy laugh, but the balloon drifted just an inch higher.

He tried again, his fingers straining, as if capturing it was the only purpose he had ever known.

Barefoot, unaware, and innocent.

He didn't know where he had wandered. He didn't know how far he had gone. And he certainly didn't know… that behind this small, innocent joy, a turn was waiting.

A turn that was about to change his entire life forever

to be continued ___________

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