Bear Trap

AN:Here's my early present. Merry Christmas!

"It's been such a long time since I've heard from you, Jungkook."

"Yeah…Thank you for agreeing to see me on such short notice."

"Don't worry about it, people tend to avoid therapists on the weekends for some reason. Well, besides you. So, what brings you here? I mean, I would be glad if you only wanted to catch up, but if history has taught me anything is that you only come when something bad has happened."

The silence she was met with had her leaning back in the chair, mumbling a quiet: "Well?"

"It has and it hasn't," I said slowly while staring at the floor only to quickly reveal a forced grin.

"I don't know what that means, Jungkook."

She said that, but jotted something down in the black agenda that was resting on her leg anyways.

"I am not sure if it's me or the person I'm dating, but it's like…"

"You're dating? But that's marvelous. Since when? How did you meet? How old is she?"

"She…" That word made the tongue feel too big in my mouth, which is why another smile stretched all facial muscles only to disappear before I went on, "…she's, well…a…that's not important."

The practiced neutral, yet curious expression of the therapist seemed to sway towards confusion mixed with annoyance for a moment before it regained its emotionless, yet considerate resting face.

"Then, what's important for you, right now?"

"You are probably aware from other students that you know, THE exam is this week which is really like too many exams in one, but…" I exhaled, and shut my eyes for a second to push the panic back into the pit of my stomach, "I find myself wanting to do anything but study. I don't really see the point of it since I've got no dream, nothing that I truly want to achieve."

"But you might…"

"Yeah, yeah, I already know the line: I might find something that I want to do in ten years and I'll hate myself. But that's like saying you won't eat anything that's bad for you since it might contribute to a sickness that you'll have when you're fifty. Not many people can make daily decisions based on one fear that might or might not materialize."

She wrote something down, nodding, and then to my surprise, put the pen down.

"I know this might be controversial since adults would advise you to ignore everything and just study, but if we ignore what's already eating at us, then it isn't going to solve it, will it?"

I knew I wasn't blinking and my mouth was hanging open, but I couldn't stop the baffled expression that I was showing her. I was that shocked. Since that was one of the reasons why I actually came. Ready to get a healthy dose of reality from an adult, rather than from the boyfriend that I wished to get weed from every time I saw his face.

'He's like a trigger at this point…'

"…I agree."

"Then, what is it that you couldn't solve on your own?"

She tried to sound worried and not condescending, but I hated it either way.

"This might sound weird, but…what is love, exactly?"

She chuckled softly at my joined, shaky fingers, only to clear her throat when she realized that it was only her voice that echoed in the room with too many paintings.

"Love. Well, love should and is about truly understanding the totality of one person. About both people having the best interest of one another at heart and being authentic regardless if that might expose some insecurities. It is being vulnerable, being seen, heard, felt, and understood."

"But what if you do see, hear, feel, and understand a person somewhat and yet, all you see is bad, and yet, you understand it since you might possibly be bad…yourself? What then?"

"Jungkook." She stated joining her fingers in her lap solemnly, "A healthy person can't possobly be bad. I don't know how to explain this without talking for hours, but basically, what love today is for people is just a …indirect resolve of one or more particular traumas. What I mean by that is that someone might not have received the affection that they needed from one of their parents or both. They didn't recieve their approval, perhaps even anything resembling healthy affection. And that's why they assign this quest to themselves subconsciously when they grow up. It's the: if I can earn this person's approval or affection, then it will heal the wound that my parents inflicted, quest. Is what I'm saying making any sense for you?" I nodded; she went on: "Some succeed, but most people don't, because people, well, everybody usually picks a person that is strikingly similar to the parent. Similar in what they were lacking in mostly. So, if the parent was shut down emotionally, then we're going to pick…"

She outstretched her hand towards me, telling me to complete her sentence and I did, with a bitter taste in my mouth.

"Someone who's also emotionally shut down?"

"Precisely. Which makes it that much harder. It's like trying to get a home cooked meal out of a vending machine. You're bound to fail no matter how many coins you earn or...steal."

She picked up her pen, so I talked faster and louder as if I wanted to prevent her from writing anything down.

"But what if…and I'm just spitballing… what if we see parts of yourself in the other person? And of course, they're not exactly the same, but still…"

She sighed. And I arched my eyebrow when the matter-of-fact tone slapped me in the face.

"It is normal that people mirror each other. Just like someone who plays the guitar is more likely to fall in love with someone who plays the piano. By the same coin, they might fall in love with the complete opposite, someone who doesn't even listen to music. It really depends on their childhood, preferences, their environment, their current connections, interests and so much more. Or mostly, if their trauma involves a person who is similar to them in any way or not."

"Then…"

The words died in my throat while the corners of her mouth went up slightly. And the pen returned between the pages of the agenda.

"How does the definition of healthy versus unhealthy love help you solve the problem that you're yet to describe in any…definite way?" She asked though a clenched jaw.

"…not sure."

" Jungkook, what is the real problem that you came here for? And don't forget, unless it is something illegal, then the client confidentially still applies."

"I think I already had a feeling that the relationship isn't healthy."

She sighed once more and asked, "How so?"

"Little signs…here and there." Words filled with irony and bitterness.

"How did I forget that you are the master of pointing the conversation in a certain direction without giving any information about the real-life situation?" She mumbled, drawing lines.

"But I'm not healthy either. I mean, I'm not horrible, but I don't think that I want a healthy relationship. I don't even know what you said truly…entails, but it sounds scary."

"Being seen for who you are and accepted?"

"But I think he already sees me for who I am. And that's scary enough. Since he somewhat accepts me, I think."

She looked up without moving any of the other muscles, but the eyelids, asking in the deepest tone her voice was capable of; a deadpanned:

"He?"

I leaned back, shaking my head, saying:

"She! She sees me for me. I think. And I see…her for her!"

Chin sustained by her right hand that was still holding the pen, she inquired with a sneaky expression that I thought people in her profession shouldn't display:

"And do both of you have the best interest of the other person at heart?"

"Well…kinda…"

"You don't sound convinced."

"I mean, I don't want anything bad to happen to him…"

'…anymore…for some odd reason that I can't put my finger on.'

"Having the best interest of someone is not what that means, Jungkook. That's the baseline of a good person. I bet you don't want me to get hit by a car, but that doesn't mean that you are in love with me."

'Definitely not.' I heard myself think outloud as I leaned back. Mumbling:

"I'd do anything for h…her wellbeing."

She shook her head lightly. Disapprovingly.

"Having someone's best interest is not easy. First, you must see, hear, feel and understand that person's reason for doing anything. You must put yourself in their shoes and become them. You must learn to spot their unconscious motivations that would make perfect sense if you were to take the time to listen to them talking about their past."

"So, I should ask about her past?"

"And let them gaslight themselves when they clearly punish themselves today from mistake they've done in the past. Agreeing to their self-destructiveness almost as well as that person does in order to understand that when, for example, someone comes to the therapist to get pills when they have an addiction problem it is most likely because they are trying to escape their painful emotions and that is the best coping mechanism they have at that moment. But that's only because that's tue one of the coping mechanism that they had access to or learned from someone else. Not because they're a bad person, or have some genes that tell them to keep consuming regardless of what happens in their life. It's all because they're feeling hurt, lonely, and powerless."

I opened my mouth to retort, but she held a finger up and went on:

"And it is perfectly normal, sane, and healthy to run from a bear when you have nothing to fight it with. But at some point, it becomes unhealthy and against your best interest if you never search for any other solution, so you never confront your emotions or problems, and you just use the crutches that are in fact, the pills, tv shows, and everything that can be used to distract you. To …take you away from the root trauma or whatever emotion you are trying to suppress, disown and deny."

It was her turn to force a quick smile that faded two seconds later, followed by a dense silence that I broke with:

"So…you're not giving me any pills today?"

I looked down. Unable to meet the cold gaze.

"And it's fine if you need help to fight the bear when you're ready Jungkook, after all, that's why I am here."

"But I don't think…I don't think I am done running…"

She nodded, but her face revealed a bit of disappointment before she consciously hid it.

I went on: "I'm really tired of confronting anything really. Everything's hard for me and it makes me hate it. My parents, my brother, my school, my classmates…everyone is stuck in their own little bubble and I'm all alone with him…" I swiftly caught my lower lips and loudly corrected myself: "Her…in our own little bubble. But is that love?! Is that healthy? Does it even matter?"

She didn't get to answer since I couldn't stop: "I just want to stay where I am…I just want time to stop, but they keep telling me that I have to go there and do this and that."

"This and that?"

"That I need to keep giving the impression of being someone who wants to do stuff, but...I feel like he, she! She wants to remain stuck in time with me as well, at least for a while every day...Yet we can't right now cause real-life just won't stop happening." I held my head in my arms by the ears and yet, I could still hear her perfectly.

"Misery likes company. Is what you're describing."

A raspy: "I guess.", came out of my throat.

"And that's fine. Misery should have company."

Eyes wide, I stared at the woman who's just changed the predominant leg, which was on top of the other since the moment I've arrived. She smiled, red nails hiding only part of her lip.

"How is that fine…?"

"It's fine, Jungkook. You're young. Your life right now is not helping you heal in any way after all. You have no support from the other side, just like you said, but you might not be alone in that bubble. And you are alone when it comes to facing the bear. Although I'll always receive you with open arms, when you go out there, you're on your own. And if what you need is for the both of you to lick your wounds, then neither is doing anything inherently wrong. In fact, you, acknowledging that you hate anything that strongly is a breakthrough. Remember that you used to feel nothing but panic at the sight of others and you didn't even know why? Now you know something. Finally."

"I do?"

"You don't think that your family, classmates, or just other people, in general, have your best interest at heart, and you might be wrong or you might be right. But what matters, at the end of the day is how you feel. That is valid and you should act according to your emotions since that is how you will feel even safer in your own body. Since no matter what happens on the outside, if you feel safe with yourself then I believe your anxiety will decrease greatly. After all, you'll be giving yourself the message that you have your own best interest at heart and that is a marvelous achievement. "

I shook my head continuously since I didn't feel like I was trusting myself more, but that I was bargaining.

'A little bit of pain for a little bit of pleasure.'

"…but what if I am wrong?" The weakness in my tone bothered me as I was saying those words.

"Then you're wrong." It was plain, but confidently said. "When you are one hundred percent certain that you've committed an atrocious mistake, then make the necessary changes and try anew. A mistake is bad only if you don't learn anything from it."

I was staring at my joined hands for a while, not truly seeing them, feeling as though all the air was stuck somewhere between an exhalation and an inhale.

She was writing something in the silence that stretched for far too long, as if she didn't want to disturb it, or me. Hence, I threw another ambiguous question into the disgusting mix:

"But what if they're normal and we're the crazy ones? The outsiders and the..."

"Then you belong with the crazy ones. There's nothing wrong with that. As long as you find the place that makes you happy. Or the people. When you'll find belonging, hang on to it. Though I doubt you're the crazy ones."

"Do you, really?" The bitter accusation was not lost on her.

"Jungkook, you've had a…neglectful childhood. Someone who gives you their undivided attention for the first time and you, allowing it to happen, reciprocating even, is a step forward. As scary as that might be."

"You say that, but if you knew…everything…you wouldn't be saying that…" I mumbled.

"Perhaps." She smiled widely, sarcastically as she started swinging her leg. "I would say many other things if I had any idea about what or who we've been talking about for almost an hour. Especially about what kind of 'unhealthy' relationship you're in. Oh, and their definite gender. That'd be nice."

"I told you that it's a she."

"But you said he by mistake for how many times?" I looked away, suffocating in both frustration and the feeling like I had made a grave mistake by coming here altogether.

A hand in the air, however, had my immediate attention: "That's not important. What's important is the way this person treats you. You said there were similarities between you two. Can you expand on that?"

She took the pen, prepared to write whatever new detail I'd offer, but all she got was a shy: "Not really…"

"Jungkook." She uttered, obviously frustrated. "I can't help you if you don't tell me anything."

"Where did you write the line that reminds you that I don't trust anyone? Maybe you should go back a few pages..."

"For how many years have we known each other? You told me a lot about your childhood. Did you read about it in the newspaper afterward?"

"No, but…"

"I would lose my job if one word would leave this room. I would never jeopardize our relationship either way."

'The one in which my parents pay you? Of course not. Silly me.' I scoffed with a bitter smirk.

"It's not what you'd do with the information, it's more about the way you'd change your opinion about me…"

"Jungkook, I assure you that unless you've committed murder, I am not going to think any less of you."

"You say that, but I doubt it."

"Test me."

I crossed my arms, and despite the voice from the back of my mind that started screaming as soon as I've made the decision to speak, I heard the words my mouth was making with masked surprise: "I think I'm encouraging hi…her bad behaviors just so I am free to behave badly."

'I can't tell her the truth. Not even bits of it. Shit. I just told her a summary of what's bothering me because I'm desperate. Why couldn't I say…No. That's revealing enough as it is.'

"What kind of behaviors?" She cocked her head and squinted her eyes.

'It's a he and he's my dealer, kind of. I use his boss too, who might be a murderer, to give me grass. Oh, and also, he might have a sex addiction and I absolutely do not. But who knows, it might rub on me if I try hard enough? I hope. Not to mention, I think he'll kill me the moment he finds out that I talked to someone he specifically told me not to talk to because he may or may not be a rapist. Or he might kill just him. Or both of us. Though he kinda raped me too when I was high. I honestly don't know what will happen. He drugged me and fucked me for like five hours last time as punishment. But I want to thank any divinity out there that he had drugged me before he literally jammed his huge and hard…' I thought.

"Can't say, all I can say however is that they're negative ones. Use your imagination." I said.

'Oh, and after this. I'm going to meet someone who's also on the list of people that I shouldn't talk to. It's not a long list, but I am like meeting most of the people from that damn list. And it's not because he's a controlling ass, but because these are bad people. Bad people who have information about his probably dead girlfriend and drugs. And I can't stay away from bad people. No, sir. They attract me because they have what I fucking want! Which is not being seen, felt, understand, and loved…Like all the healthy shit you've been yapping about. Though I doubt Yoongi's trustworthy either. He wasn't really nice when we were children, though I thought he was a friend. But enough about me, how about you?'

My mind talked and my mouth swallowed every single word. Keeping it down. Hidden. Unexposed to the light of day.

She abandoned the pen to the table next to the chair and was rubbing her temples, saying:

"Whatever it is negative...And do you think that makes you evil in some way? Everyone has negative traits to some extent. You might just be more aware of them since you already are very critical of yourself. That's all. And feeling like you're bad is different than taking action on the 'bad' impulses you have."

"You wouldn't say that if you knew what kind of…"

"Well, I don't! Don't I?!"

The burst of anger was making me comfortable for some reason. It was her way of showing that she cared while I was swimming in newfound shark-infested waters.

'I don't doubt that it's not normal. And I don't doubt that we're only licking each other's poisoned wound. Still…my actual concern is that I don't see how this will result in a happy ending, for either of us. But there's no point in voicing that to her since…that's only a concern if she knew…everything. And also, there's no guarantee she could offer, after all…' I thought.

"It's really complicated to predict the future, isn't it??"

"What?"

"The future."

"Jungkook, we were talking about negative kinds of behaviors."

"No matter how many negative things happen, a few good ones can change the future, right?"

I mimicked her. One leg on top of the other, and hands joined on top of my lap. Feeling angrier the more disheveled she looked. But more in control.

"It depends. But perhaps."

"Then I think I've got my answer."

"To what question?" She almost screamed, exasperated.

"Will it get better or worse? Now I know that both are viable possibilities. Nothing is set in stone."

A raised eyebrow and a grimace that revealed white teeth made her look like a tired, feral animal.

'Ah, here it is. The true face of my therapist.'

A beast that feeds on the accurate details of all her patients' lives. She likes to get lost in them, and yet who has answers that solely refer to a situation in its most general sense. Like the phrase: stealing is bad. Yet it isn't bad if you're the one starving, nor if is it done with no ill intent if you're all alone, on the streets, and your parents are gone. It all depends on the details.

But in this room filled with motivational quotes and incense that is meant to induce you into a false sense of security, the same advice would be given from the books she's read. Books that can't give solutions and reasons for every little change in the narrative. Some might have the answer to very specific problems, but no personality is exactly the same, no past, no parents, nothing is one hundred percent the same. Then it doesn't really matter. It's never an absolute solution. Also, no one's got the time to write all possible scenarios down and come up with actual, helpful suggestions.

An addict is an addict and this is how it behaves and how it thinks. But an addict can stop being one at the drop of a hat and it has nothing to do with what pills they're given, what their therapist has said, or what happened in their life. It can be randomly personal. And I knew that.

It can be that the person is just so deep in depression that they no longer have the energy to chase after dealers so they face the bear, not with newfound courage but with all their weapons down. It might be because they see no point in running anymore, for a stupid reason, like the fact that it feels better to wake up with a clear head in the morning. Those minute, humane reasons that a book never mentions are sometimes, the real solutions. The line in the sand that everyone has but might never recognize. That moment in time when their whole being screams: enough. Maybe after a lifetime of lying and cheating. Or who knows what else. Namjoon told me this.

And I haven't found mine yet. Nor was I truly looking. Nor did it matter if I was looking or not.

But it was little victories like these that I truly considered an improvement. When I realized that the reason why I felt safe in someone's presence was mainly when they'v'e dropped their mask by mistake and their real scarred face was showing.

It wasn't that I wasn't another bear like the rest of them. But because they pretended to be birds, fish, and felines so, at some point, I got confused and terrified to be amongst different species. And I was told that I was the odd one out. Also, I couldn't predict anything they'd do. That was the reason why my system produced so much adrenaline. Cause a bear's behavior is familiar and any behavior of a bird is a threat since it is unpredictable, unknown, and therefore, unsafe.

Every time I made one of them show me the teeth that only a bear has, I relaxed from head to toe.

After that, I felt satisfied. I thanked her and didn't even mention the word pill.

I was waiting at the green and red market for the short bear that pretended to be a snake without bothering to look at the time once.

He hissed a quick: "Hi." as soon as he laid eyes on me.

And I growled another: "Hi."

My dilemma was: 'Will you coil around my neck like a noose that Namjoon will hang from the lamp on his bedroom ceiling or will I be able to get all your honey and then hide?'

"Have you waited long?"

"Just got here." I lied.

"Want to buy anything?"

I glanced at them. The spot between the automatic doors where Namjoon used to wait as if they wouldn't react to me since I was not as tall as him. And spit a childish: "Nah."

"So, this place that I told you about…"

Was a wooden, dusty, old bar whose owner somehow afforded the two floors of a the two-floor building. He told me that the bottom one was for the newbies and the second for the regulars who were also chill drunks. Or that's what the owner thought the youngsters on the second floor were doing since they kept ordering beers and cocktails. But pills were being passed inside folded napkins and if one was smoking weed on the balcony, it was code for everyone else to smoke, since so the smell would be gone all at once.

The rules of the house were mostly unwritten.

And that's where I was, freezing with a joint between my fingers. Fighting the panic that made the acid of my stomach rise to my throat. But after I smoked all of it, I momentarily forgot about Namjoon and the fact that this was a public place. Though it was fairly empty this time of year. Only two other girls were on the second floor and the ones below were just old geezers that sometimes emphasized their opinion on politics a bit too loudly.

Yoongi and I were the only smokers. His two friends cut a pill in half on the square, dark wood table and they were currently staring at the ceiling while making unintelligible remarks.

And they looked more handsome in my now, faded world. Their laughing was no longer annoying, but a melodious background noise that sometimes blended with the jazzy song that kept playing as a woman's voice softly sang along to it. Words that were lost to me now. And to my smoked-out brain.

"You guys are in the same class?"

I looked at Yoongi as if I needed approval, though I mostly wanted him to answer whatever interview was coming next. But the guy's eyes were redder than mine and all he did was nod which didn't deter them from asking me the following question.

"And how come we've never seen you with him?"

"We used to be friends when we were kids," I confessed, taking a sip of a lukewarm mojito.

"Grew apart?"

"Kind of," I mumbled. "But what about you guys?" I quickly asked after.

But Yoongi already spit out a: "I was a jerk to him."

"No, you were not." I leaned back, slightly laughing, trying to keep the atmosphere light while thinking that I should make a good impression in case any of the two was a dealer or if they could give me the number to their dealer.

"I was. I deserved to be beaten up."

My neck twisted so hard that it kept hurting even after I hid my shocked expression when the two of them were doing sounds like 'oh snap' way too close to my ears.

"You beat him up?"

I immediately put both hands up, sincerely saying:

"No! No."

"His…" Yoongi started and despite knowing that the next word should remain a secret, it was someone else's voice who made that word get stuck on his tongue.

"Sorry, I'm late again."

"The V man's finally here. You weren't kidding when you said you're going to be late today." One of the two brown-haired guys said.

"My bad. The cop felt like giving me a lecture about going out before the exam."

"He's home this weekend?"

Taehyung nodded, the other burst with complains: "Not again. Every single time you want to go out he appears. It's like he has your camera phone on his laptop or something."

"Doesn't he have to like…do some patrolling or some shit?"

I assumed it was an inside joke at play since they chuckled for some reason.

But the square smile that he wore was meant only for me and Yoongi must've noticed since he pointed at his face, whispering a tired: "Whatever you desire, he's your genie."

He plummeted back into the chair as I stood, wide-eyed, mouth agape. The music and their laughter seemed louder and the air blurrier, almost as thick as smoke.

"That's right. If you rub me three times…" He joked and started searching through his bag while one of the two was still sober enough to notice: "Wait, do you two know each other too?"

I grabbed my backpack, ready to leave. Suddenly sure that there was some wrong going on though I couldn't put two and two together.

"We've seen each other here and there," V answered with the most coherent voice at the table. "I can show you what's in my lamp Kookie, but I'd rather show you all of it on the balcony if you don't mind."

A zip lock bag filled with aluminum foil had me dropping the backpack back on the floor. Despite hearing Yoongi's sigh clearly.

When V clicked his tongue and pointed with his head at the balcony, I got up and followed him like a hungry dog.

The air was colder outside. So crisp that I was sure it would snow anytime now. And yet, my head was no clearer than it was inside.

"Didn't think you'd come." He casually admitted, leaning on the wall, lighting a joint so dark that I couldn't tell how much weed was in it. He was the first to take a hit.

"Drop the crap. Did you know about me and Yoongi?"

"What's there to know? Your boyfriend has beat up both of us, big whoop. I've heard he's beaten up a lot of people. I don't think we're that special." My lips parted, ready to argue, but unsure of it myself, I just stared. Not finding anything that could prove otherwise.

"Want some?"

'I shouldn't.' Is what I thought, but my hand reached out immediately, inhaling deeper than I did before. Fueled by the intention to completely make my brain shut down so I'd stop feeling whatever emotion was making my feet wobble.

"Like it?"

"It tastes a bit different."

"It's my favorite type. None of that common shit."

"Where'd you get it?" I casually inquired, passing the joint back to him.

"That's a secret."

I chuckled sarcastically.

"Are you my new dealer?"

"I thought you already had one."

"Oh, I do. I just need one until the exam's over."

"Can't pretend to be the studious kid anymore?" He mocked, nearly singing the words.

"I don't plan on smoking a lot, just to…"

"Please! Don't sell me the speech. I've already told you. I get it."

"What do you get?"

I hugged myself and zipped up my jacket as every gust of wind had me shaking harder, despite the two layers I had on.

"Everything. The hiding. The excuses. The…"

"No. I mean. What do you get by getting me green?"

He looked away with a closed-mouth smile and then extended an arm towards me.

"Come here."

"Why?" I asked, shaking harder.

"Aren't you cold?"

"So?"

"I'm not going to bite. Come. My coat's better than yours."

"Proud much?"

"Realistic. Come on."

Two fingers caught the material that covered my crossed arms in between them. And then the rest of the hand-pulled me towards him. I hit his chest, remaining stiff as he wrapped an arm around my waist, only to pull me even closer. Head under his chin, the joint went from his lips to mine.

The joint was wet.

"What do you get?" I repeated.

"Your boyfriend doesn't do stuff for you unless he gets something in return? I see."

I shut my eyes. My chest aching.

The lights of the streets were even brighter when I opened them. The girls that I saw earlier were smoking as well. They had the same big metal garbage can between them, with an ashtray on top. Their eyes, blood shoot, their bottom lips coated with black tar, and one of them, the one whose blond hair seemed to have a halo around it because of the street lamp behind her, she grabbed the neck of the other and pulled her forward in a tongue filled kiss without bothering to look around. The other was clearly surprised. But she smiled afterward, covering her lips with her hand. Nudging her friend or girlfriend playfully.

"Do you want to kiss too?"

"What?" I moved immediately, feeling even more uncomfortable in his arms, but he kept me still and warm.

He laughed, staring at my face, blowing smelly smoke into it.

"If they see us kiss, maybe they'll talk to us. And I could get some. You too. Or are you strictly gay?"

"I am in a relationship."

"I won't tell if you don't."

"I don't want to."

"It's just a kiss Jungkook. Look, if you do this for me then the weed that I'll give you today and the one you've already smoked, it will all be free of charge. What do you say?"

"So, that's what you get?" I bitterly said those words, filled with reproach.

He smiled, leaning down. His face was nothing but a blurry stain with a dark wooden wall behind it. His perfume, a suffocating musky smell, and his chest, the only source of warmth.

"A threesome with two girls? I'll take it."

"How are you so sure they'll talk to us if we kiss?"

"Because I've done it before."

I smiled with disbelief, but I didn't get to pull back.

Dizzy, high and with a frozen red nose, his lips covered mine and I thought: 'If it's only a peck, it's fine. But why isn't he …'

The lips parted and the tongue touched my teeth and it didn't stop there. It forced its way between them. His tongue had a hint of cherry and green lime. The strong perfume overpowered every other smell. And despite the fact that I was pushing him with my hands, our tongues kept rubbing against each other, saliva dripping down as the winter air was cooling it on its way down.

I hit his chest with a fist lightly. It lacked any strength whatsoever, but it served as a demand for him to stop. But all that got me was a hand on the back of my neck to keep me still as his tongue licked the roof of my mouth before the lips caught my tongue and sucked on it.

I moaned.

Nails digging into the sides of my nape. Clothed fronts squashed against each other forcibly.

Ah. It was intoxicating.

Forbidden.

Wrong.

High.

Kiss.

"St---op." I was able to pull back somehow. But I didn't step far enough. His breath was hitting my nose as his spidery eyes looked down at me with something that I couldn't confuse with anything else but lust.

"Good job."

"Huh?"

"Hey." The blood girl was right next to me and the brown-haired girl was behind her, shyly hiding after her taller friend.

"Hey," Taehyung answered, looking at them with a smile, but his hand was still around my waist.

"You two?" She pointed at us and he just nodded.

I stood, frozen.

'Why the hell did I kiss him back?!'

"Cool. Us too." She said confidently, but her friend's cheeks were redder by the minute. It didn't seem like it was because of the cold.

"Want to hang sometime?" V asked, and she nodded this time.

They exchanged numbers while I continued to stare down the street, expecting to see Namjoon holding a gun in the middle of it.

After they left just like that. V lifted my chin with his fingers and before I got to say a word, placed the half-smoked joint between my lips and lit it with a tiny violet lighter.

"We should go in soon. Or Yoongi might come looking for us."

I inhaled, filled with rage.

And then took the cigarette between my lips and blew the smoke into his face as he did to me.

"A peck would've been enough."

"No, it wouldn't have been enough. I told you, I've done this before."

"And how does it end?"

"It ends with me fucking one of the girls while the other licks her girlfriend's pussy."

I felt my face burning.

"Or it can end with you fucking the other girl. After all, even lesbians need some dick once in a while."

"No, thanks."

"You really are exclusively gay."

"No. I'm not."

"Have you ever fucked a girl before?"

"No. But that's just because Namjoon's my first boyfriend."

"Oh, right. I forgot your first time was when you were raped."

I accepted the joint, but felt myself wanting to leave more than ever. If only it wasn't for the possibility that I could get more weed than I thought, I'd rather smoke alone.

"You got what you wanted. Now, what about what I want?"

His sigh dirtied the air as he too stared at the street below and in front of us. And then back at me, with an almost sad expression.

The excess saliva from inside my mouth was frustrating all of a sudden.

'He's just a good kisser. Nothing else. Fuck him. I have Namjoon. I don't need this fucking…'

And then he leaned closer, our noses touching. Lips only a few millimeters apart.

"How much do you want?"

I answered without thinking:

"How much do you have?"

"Can't do that. If Namjoon sees too much then he won't believe you when you tell him that you walked in on someone from school smoking in the bathroom. The same person who magically gave you some out of pity."

I bit the inside of the cheek. He went on: "Just enough to keep you happy for two days or maybe one will do. Though how long it lasts depends on how much you'll miss me and then all you have to do is give me a call, a blank text or something and I'll find you."

"I won't miss you." I spit those words through clenched teeth and shut my eyes. Feeling the world spinning immediately.

"Maybe you will. Maybe you won't. But you'll miss my weed."

I smirked.

"I think I know why Namjoon doesn't like you now."

"I think Namjoon hates me to death now."

He said that mostly to himself before leaning down again. This time placing only a peck on my lips.

I stepped back, letting his arm hover in the air.

"The girls left," I stated.

"Yeah?" He looked around as if he didn't see them passing me by and going inside the pub minutes ago. "Guess we don't have to kiss anymore."

I tried to appear angry, but whatever was in that weed got me hanging onto his coat as we walked back to the table. It was then that Yoongi's face seemed almost foreign and the smiles of the two guys whose names I couldn't recall didn't make me feel a thing. It was as if I could just close my eyes and go to sleep without caring if everyone here saw me.

"You two were gone for quite a while."

"Business meeting," V answered as he took my backpack and slipped the tiniest zip lock bag of weed into it. I saw it. They saw it. But Yoongi seemed to have felt something in the air change since he ordered a few shots on him and had us all drunk in less than an hour. I wasn't sure what the conversations were about, but I was laughing, laughing until I was unable to breathe.

The kiss between me and V, forgotten. The buzzing of the phone from my backpack, a ghost.

V's thigh occasionally grazing mine, an innocent flirt.

No. I haven't done anything wrong. I told myself.

As if Namjoon told me that it was alright to be high before the exam and not the total opposite.

As if I told him anything besides the fact that I had to see my therapist today.

As if telling V that it's fine to come to the flat that I shared with my brother was smart. As if Yoongi didn't hear it and didn't know that there was no way in hell that Namjoon would be fine with it.

But I was only trying to be nice since he was just as drunk as I was and his dad was home. Just like Namjoon was at the house that I was supposed to go to.

'If only there was a button that could make the rest of the world stop.' I thought.

"So, what's the lie?"

"What are you talking about?"

He asked and then started tickling me in the backseat of the taxi.

"Hey, you two. No roughhousing in the back."

"Sorry. Sorry." He said in an amused tone and then slid his hand under my shirt to warm it up. The hand didn't move, but something in my stomach did. It moved around like a snake.

'Are you the snake?' I heard myself thinking and then my head fell and hit the side of the door.

"Did you just blackout?" He asked while laughing.

"No." I lied and let him pull my head back up.

"Credit or cash?"

'The side of my head should hurt.' I thought as I was trying to find the keys inside the messy backpack.

I held onto the wall and onto him on our way to the elevator, but as soon as we got in, I let myself sit on the floor.

"You really can't hold your alcohol."

"I feel better now actually."

"How? You don't look good at all."

"What are you talking about? I can see and talk."

"That's true. You make much more sense. But you've lost all strength in your lower body."

"Yeah…" I mumbled and then laughed at myself.

I was happy.

Genuinely happy in this new pitch black bubble that I've fallen into by mistake.

'This is just what I needed.' I thought.

I was happy when I tried to open the door while V told me that I am an idiot. Happy when he tried to get the keys into the hole himself and failed.

I was happy while I was vomiting in the toilet as he embraced me from behind, both long legs flat on each side of the toilet with shoes on.

I even told him to take them off while vomiting.

I was happy when I was brushing my teeth, barely able to see the upper side of my face. Happy when eating right after vomiting, happy watching a show that I would've never considered watching otherwise. Blissfully happy when he rolled another joint and had me lighting it up.

The happiest when we smoked with our backs against the edge of my bed, tv blasting in front of us. And then I had to hear him asking: "So, what's the lie?"

"Again...what do you mean?"

"You're going to lie to Namjoon. Aren't you?"

"About tonight? Oh…I'd rather not, but…"

"You have to."

He said in a matter-of-fact tone, shrugging. Wearing a smile that was full of pity.

"Hey. If I have to lie, it's because you screwed up. If you two were friends, then I am sure tonight would've been fine. He would've been glad that I was …relaxing."

"Really?"

"Really."

He took the joint from my lips and put it between his.

"I really don't think he'd like me hanging out with you even if he and I were all buddy, buddy."

"And why not?"

He exhaled in my face and then passed the wet joint.

"Because I am a handsome guy. And not only that. I am also bisexual and an addict. You're a pretty gay addict. Do the math."

"You wouldn't." I looked away, with a scoff.

"Didn't we kiss today? Or did I imagine it?"

"That's because it was part of your evil threesome plan."

"And I will fuck them." A brief silence happened before he continued with a low: "But I'd rather fuck you."

I laughed, holding my belly while sliding towards the floor. Expecting it to be another joke of his. But the serious face had me feeling vulnerable while laying on my back.

"You don't mean that." I tried. But he simply smirked as if I was an idiot.

"Well, it's not like I can. Considering the phrase 'your boyfriend will kill me' is not a joke in this case, but more of a statement when it comes to Fred's monster."

"Don't call him that."

He looked down at me with changed eyes. And then looked down at my exposed abdomen. The one that I covered with my blouse as he was still staring at it.

"I get it though. I'd kill too, if I had someone like you."

"Stop it…" I said, jokingly. Lifting myself up sluggishly. Yet, he pushed me back down with only one finger and placed the joint between my lips with the other.

It was only when his arms were on each side of my body that I realized that I'm wasn't happy anymore.

"I want us to be friends," I whispered quickly. The snake from my stomach was moving in circles.

"We can't be friends." He whispered back.

And after he inhaled a bit of weed, he exhaled all the smoke through my parted lips.

I swallowed it and held it in. And then asked: "Why not?"

"You aren't very self-aware, are you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you want a mirror?"

"What did I do?"

He stared at my lips for a second and then back at my eyes.

"Big round eyes, pink lips, skinny high boy innocently spread on the floor of his bedroom at three in the morning." He leaned in, and I could feel the words on my lips when he whispered:" You're just begging me to fuck you."

"I'm not," I argued. And I meant it.

"No. Not on purpose. Which makes it even harder for me to hold back."

I shifted under him, thinking of a way to get away.

"But don't worry." He went on, getting off and up instantly. Walking towards the door by the time I prompted myself on my elbows to hear the words: "I won't touch you unless it helps me fuck someone else."

'Why?' I thought, but didn't say it.

He answered that exact question as if he heard it.

"I'll act as your friend as much as you want. I'll even be your dealer and the guy who touches you everywhere without fucking you. I'm fine with it. But let me know when one of you dumps the other. I bet I can be the best high fuck you've ever had. And will ever have." He smiled to himself and went on: "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go ins your bathroom to jerk off. You know…so, I don't rape you just like your boyfriend did."

The door was opened and then it was shut.

And the silence I was left to drown in was screaming.

I turned up the volume of the tv, but there was no use. The silence was in my head. The lack of thoughts, the hard-on between my legs, and the twinge in every heartbeat. It hurt the rib cage and it hurt the whole chest, leaving me terrified.

I could feel the adrenaline filling my veins so I just reached for the joint, and smoked the rest of it. Desperately. Not being able to get any higher, I only felt sicker. Blacking out without meaning to. But I was fine with it. Sicker made me soft. Sicker made me wheeze on the mattress while my new friend was jerking himself off in my bathroom while thinking of all the ways he'd force me down.

And all I could think of was how Namjoon looked like when he was sleeping in my bed with a fever.

'This is wrong. I know this is wrong. I need to trust my emotions. And my emotions tell me that this is wrong. Even if he's better than Namjoon…wait. Is he? Isn't he just as bad? He's even worse. He's a junkie and a sex addict! Just fuck! What did I do? Why did I go out with Yoongi? Why didn't I leave when I realized something was up?"

I covered myself with a blanket and then rolled on the bed, trapping myself in a blanket spiral. Mainly to hide and not because I was cold anymore.

'Why did I like it when he kissed me? Why did I let him come here?! That's the worst. I'm the worst. I deserve whatever punishment Namjoon gives me after this. After this…will he find out? What if he does? What if he doesn't? What if…he'll notice that I am high? I have weed…I can't stop smoking…no…I can't be sober, knowing that I smoked weed that wasn't his. I can't, fuck…fuck…fuck…she said…If I am sure that I've made a mistake…then I need to do something about it. Start anew. Start….'

"Did you fall asleep?" V was right next to me.

"No."

"Then can you help me? I couldn't cum."

The only uncovered part was my hair and the eyes. Eyes that I used to stare at him, accusatorily.

"It was a joke. Just a joke." He said that, but still went on to say: "I mean. I didn't joke when I said I couldn't finish, but I'm not letting you help me."

I hid the rest of my head. And he found that funny.

"You really need to loosen up. Don't worry about it. Namjoon won't know a thing. And I told you that I won't do anything to you."

"Hmm."

"Stop being so cute."

His words had me wrapping the last part that provided air. I hoped I'd just die right from asphyxiation right then and there when he embraced the blanket roll that help my body tightly in the middle.

"Everything will be fine."

"No, it won't."

"Just tell him that you fell asleep. And left the phone on silent. You felt sick or whatever. Took a sleeping pill. He'll understand."

"Do you think so?"

"We can make a bet."

"But Yoongi…Yoongi knows that you came here…"

"But we didn't do anything."

"He doesn't know that!"

"Look, I can't tell you any specifics, but I have Yoongi wrapped around my little finger. He won't say squat."

"Why are you …comforting me?"

The lack of air was starting to bother me so I got my head out and stared at the man who looked more out of a comic book than an actual drawing. His red eyes bore straight into mine.

'He's the snake.'

The hand that used to be around the rolled-up blanket was now caressing my cheek.

"I told you. You're cute."

"That can't be it."

"And much more innocent than all the junkies that I've met. I think I know why Namjoon's so smitten with you now."

"Why?"

"You don't know?"

I shook my head and he chuckled softly.

"Don't you ever look at someone and feel like they're so vulnerable that you simply want to…make a mess out of them?"

I shook my head again.

"Not even once? Never saw an innocent toy, all pink and girly, and felt the need to burn it?"

"You want to burn me?"

"I already told you what it is that I want to do to you."

I hid my head again. Prepared to die from lack of air this time.

"Let's go to sleep and then never met again." I was serious, but that seemed to only add new notes to his laughter.

"But you will be the one who'll call me."

I didn't respond to that.

"And you know why?"

He couldn't see me, but he just assumed that I shook my head instead of nodding from inside the blankets.

"Because even if he wants to get you some weed after exams, he won't be able to."

I got my head out the middle of the roll so fast that my neck made a popping sound.

"Why not?"

"You'll see."

"Tell me!"

"Hmm…and what do I get?"

Our eyes met and despite sensing that he knew something that might or might not affect Fred, I sank back into the cocoon.

"Not even a kiss? When what I know might prevent…"

"Get out," I mumbled.

He laughed, saying that I am cute again.

Knowing that I only half meant it.

And now that I knew he was the only one who could provide, I let him hug my blanket and by extension, I, while we slept through the whole night.

Certain that I will not move an inch, nor call Namjoon to beat the information out of him.

No. I had to keep him happy just like I felt like I had to keep Namjoon happy. No matter what.

And V was now on a different level. Not only because he was the only one who'd get me weed for a while, but because he now had leverage that could make Namjoon either commit murder or break up with me. Either way, I let him kiss my cheek in the morning. Smoked half a joint with him. Ate breakfast together and called a cab. Even let him embrace me before he left.

Despite the fact that I knew that he only kissed me to get the numbers of those girls and nothing else, he also told me that he wanted more. I was seriously conflicted about what his sexual addiction implied or if there was any.

And yet, I stared at all the missed calls and messages from Namjoon and turned off my phone. Smoked some more and went back to sleep.

Accepting the dreamless sleep as the only antidote for what I have done.

And that's what I did all Sunday, but when the end of Monday arrived, I was out of weed. And so well rested that I couldn't fall back asleep after five melatonin pills.

My phone was back on after an hour of tossing and turning in the mysterious perfume that V left on my bed.

I could either call Namjoon and make something up.

Or call Kim Taehyung to bring me more weed.

'Am I wearing the skin of another animal too now?'

The phone started ringing before I decided which one to call.

'Or have I always been a bear in sheep's clothing without realizing?'