Jeon Jungkook' Fiançailles

A wedding is beautiful, it's that joyful moment when two lives, two people, are united in a strong bond and promises are made. In sorrow and in joy.

It's a truly touching and tender moment, when the tears in his eyes aren't from sadness, but from boundless joy. It could have been the same for Taehyung. But now, he's standing at someone else's wedding. Not his own. And he's crying not from joy, but from a wild longing, a crushing, heartbreaking, soul-aching anguish.

Even in his youth, he loved a loud and handsome boy named Jungkook. They were both still boys, silly and mischievous. They were friends for a long time, until one day they confessed, and a lot of time has passed since then. Taehyung remembers many joyful and happy moments. Only he's not at his own wedding, but at Jungkook's.

The man is dressed handsomely, respectably, tall, and strong. The very man with status and power is now standing next to another, kissing another on the lips, making a promise to someone other than Taehyung.

Taehyung loved him, he really liked Jungkook, marrying him was his little dream after he confessed. But life is such that things don't always go your way.

“Why did you agree to come?” Hoseok says, looking at the guests, who for some reason are already crying. “Did you decide to hurt yourself?”

Taehyung smiled and sighed silently:

"Does it hurt? What are you talking about? I'm happy for him, he found what he's been looking for," his voice was quiet, slightly nervous.

"Well, yeah. Jungkook's a serious man now, not even a child anymore. It's scary to even approach him, he's so serious, it's creepy," Hoseok laughs, trying to lighten the mood a little.

“Yes...” a pause, “He really has changed a lot,” Taehyung took a sip of the tart wine and winced a little, either from the bitterness of the situation itself, or from the cloying sweetness of the wine.

— You still haven’t talked?

"What are we talking about? He sent me an invitation and didn't even look at me when I walked in," Taehyung replied, crossing his arms over his chest. His heart sank, and a smile appeared on his lips. A sad, mournful one. "I'll get over it."

[Les rêves ne se realisent pas toujours. ] — Dreams don't always come true.