Gilded Hearts, Hidden Scars

chapter 20

Taehyung’s hands were still trembling when her father stood and turned off the news.

“Appa… what are we going to do?” she whispered.

He looked at her, and for the first time in a long while, his expression wasn’t cold or controlling — it was fatherly, full of quiet fury and gentle protectiveness.

“Taehyung,” he said firmly, “you are my daughter. And I would never let you be married off like property — especially to someone you don’t want.”

Her eyes widened.

“You mean…?”

He nodded. “Even if I have to take this to court or call a press conference myself — I will not let this wedding happen. Not while you’re against it.”

Tears welled up in her eyes — this time from relief. She had been so sure she’d have to fight alone.

“Thank you, Appa…”

She hugged him tightly, heart finally calming down.

---

Meanwhile, at the cafe…

The late shift was slow.

Jungkook wiped down the counter absentmindedly, lost in his thoughts, when a pair of chattering customers near the corner booth caught his attention.

“Did you hear? That Kim Taehyung and Choi Minjae wedding is back on! It’s literally all over the news!”

“Yeah, I saw the headlines. Some couples just can’t stay away, huh?”

The rag in Jungkook’s hand froze mid-wipe.

He stood there — blank.

Wedding…?

He didn’t move.

He didn’t blink.

The words repeated in his mind like a cruel echo.

Taehyung… and Minjae… are still together…?

He looked down at the counter, his reflection faint in the polished surface.

His lips parted slightly as if to ask someone for the truth — but no one was there.

No one to explain.

Just noise.

And somewhere in the silence, he felt a sting in his eyes — before he even realized it, a single tear rolled down his cheek.

He quickly turned away, wiping it with the back of his hand.

I knew it, he thought. I was just a joke. A distraction.

And like always, he stayed quiet, swallowing the pain alone.

---

The metal door creaked as Jungkook stepped into his apartment — a small, quiet space that once felt like his safe corner of the world.

Now, it felt hollow.

He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, eyes closed, breath shaky.

Why does it hurt like this…?

He tossed his bag aside, kicked off his shoes, and walked to the center of the room, standing still like a statue.

The silence was deafening.

No fan buzzing.
No music.
Just the sound of his thoughts clawing at him.

He slumped down onto the mat — the same mat he'd slept on since he was kicked out of the orphanage — and buried his face in his hands.