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Taehyung watches the happy couple a few tables away from him in sadness. Maybe love just wasn't meant for him. Maybe he was destined to live a long, celibate life or maybe he just had a bad luck since the beginning—
But it still hurt.
Hurt like his heart had been crushed into tiny pieces, locked away in a box and thrown into the depths of hell. This was his best explanation of how he felt. Seeing the two boys that he loved so much enjoy a life without him made him gut-wrenchingly nauseous. Was he not good enough? Was he too fat? Too weird? Too–too clingy and annoying? He doesn't know, and it does not help repair the shattered pieces of his sanity.
Park Jimin. Jeon Jungkook. Two separate men that made and broke him.
Park Jimin. His bestfriend and self-proclaimed 'soulmate' since they were still in diapers. They had a special bond that many could not break, and could not claim for themselves. He was a dancer, Taehyung was an artist. They both dabbled in the field of arts and music, and somehow, somehow all those times he spent with Jimin made him vulnerable to the evil clutches of romance.
They were friends.
Friends with benefits.
At first, Taehyung wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. He regarded sex as something more intimate and romantic, not just something irrelevant. Taehyung helped Jimin vent his stress by letting him fuck him, muttering praises towards Jimin whilst the other pounded hard unto him. Jimin was perfect—he had the looks, the body, the voice, the charm, and the personality—and Taehyung was just a useless potato. Yet in those first few months, Taehyung wished. Wished that even though he just had a few purposes in this harsh reality, Jimin would at least just like him back, neither in a platonic or brotherly way.
Sometimes wishes come true, but his didn't.
Then came Jeon Jungkook. Freshman. His dongsaeng. They met one rowdy night at a bar just a few blocks away from the university, drinking their hearts out before the finals. Taehyung thought it was love at first sight.
Jungkook didn't.
And Taehyung knew, but he did the same mistake again just like he did with Jimin, letting the doe-eyed, muscled boy fuck him into oblivion—no strings attached. Taehyung, after they fucked, would always go to the bathroom and look at the mirror–look at his unruly reflection and ask himself if he really did want this (he did, but apparently the other did not).
He did the same mistake, yet the only difference was that he actually confessed to Jungkook instead of chickening away just like he did to Jimin.
"I'm sorry."
Taehyung should have expected that. Should have expected those two words coming out from the other's mouth—but he, who chose to live in blissful ignorance of what was really happening, chose the hard way and told the truth to Jungkook.
They said it won't hurt after. But it did.
It was a few months after that he discovered Jimin and Jungkook's relationship. They were the perfect couple anyone could ask for—happy, in love, cute and just plain beautiful.
(And after he knew about that he disappeared from their lives to eradicate his disgusting presence from their impeccable love life.)
Taehyung wrings his hands together from his spot on the café, sad eyes holding back wetness. Abruptly standing up, he walked out of the café, burying his hands in his pockets, hoodie hiding his face from the rest of the world.
He walks to the bridge where the three of them bonded together (he had introduced Jungkook to Jimin after eventually breaking his and Jimin's 'friends with benefits' agreement). It was an unfinished bridge, with some of its rails still halfway in construction. It was beautiful, and it wrenched Taehyung's heart and established some kind of deep connection within the pits of his soul.
Standing just near where the bridge ended, he stared at the sky, its hues mixing up and creating a breathtaking palette for him to see. He smiled.
He was supposed to feel empty, but now even if melancholy consumed him, he felt free.
"Always and forever, I love you."
He jumped.