"You'll get used to it."

That was a sentence Jimin heard a lot through his life. When he moved houses, when his Mother died, when he had his first heartbreak, when he was rejected as a dancer. He hated the simple phrase. It always came out of the mouths of people who didn't understand. Who just assumed what he felt. Who thought he was a baby for carrying on so much. But to be honest, Jimin never 'Got used to it' like everyone said he would. He just learned how to ignore the pain of everything. Almost unemotionally, conflicting with his reflexes to cry whenever something horrible happened.

So he never expected his own lover to formulate the words out of his mouth. The man that was standing in front of him with beach-blonde hair, dreamy eyes, and a smirk at the base of his lips that easily captured Jimin's attention. The man with Jimin's heart in his pocket. Tucked away safe, so no one can take it away from him.

Yoongi reached up to Jimin's chin, gently turning his head to plant kisses along his cheeks. He could taste the liquor in his breathe.  Jimin already knew his face was turning pink but was thankfully masked by the darkness of the night. The only light seeping through the window from city-street lights and flickering shop signs. They sat in a random, run down motel, far, far, away from home. Too far to ever think of returning.

The two depended on Yoongi's dreams. He hasn't given up like Jimin had yet. Jimin's dreams were easily crushed by a man shaking his head. A man he didn't even know. A man that got to dictate his life. Jimin was at first refusing to quit on his unreachable dream. He tried and tried and tried. No matter what he did, he was never good enough to become a professional dancer. In his last auditions, that was where he met Yoongi, the two got drunk in the realization of their failures. In the state that they were in, they found comfort in each other's sadness. Therefore, they were drawn to each other and stuck together. Yoongi continued trying and trying. He didn't give up. Because he is stubborn. Unlike Jimin.

Yoongi was finally offered a record deal for his rapping and music writing skills. It was from a small company, one that would have accepted anyone. Jimin still hasn't 'gotten used to' the feeling of being alone. When Yoongi was a lost musician, just scraping by with just enough money to live, him and Jimin were always together. Now, Yoongi is always working, or tired, or writing lyrics, or taking a call. He stopped paying attention to Jimin. Jimin felt alone, even when he wasn't.

The man in front of Jimin loudly exhaled as he leaned back, away from his face. Jimin took in all of it. His round face, thin lips, perfectly shaped eyebrows, his dyed blonde hair, the 'found' look in his face, as if this was everything he ever wanted. He didn't look 'lost' anymore. But Jimin knew this was all a scam. He was drunk.

Yoongi took another swig from the stolen bottle of liquor in his hands. Jimin hated it when he was drunk. That wasn't him. It wasn't the man he loved. It wasn't Yoongi. But even when Yoongi was sober, that wasn't the Yoongi he loved.

He loved the nights of getting in fights with random drunks on the street. The adrenaline rush they got when using spray paint to color the streets. The little pranks and tricks they performed on passerbys. Almost as if they were relinquishing their teenage years again. Not wanting to grow up and be responsible like everyone else around them.

"You shouldn't be drinking that much Yoongi." Jimin forced the useless words out of his mouth. Yoongi just looked at him, as if seeing right through him. As if he wasn't really there.

Jimin didn't really feel like he was there.

"Why don't you drink some Jiminnie. Stop being so uptight! We are celebrating for my released album! Come on drink with me!" Yoongi shakily shoved the bottle into Jimin's hands, before turning to the side and puking up. Jimin turned away, as the fowl smell hit him. When he looked back to Yoongi, he was standing up off the floor where they were sitting for the longest time, and he wiped off his mouth with his sleeve, heading for the door.

"Yoongi! Get back in here! It's not safe for you to be in such state and outside!" Jimin grabbed Yoongi's wrist as he was half-way outside of walking through the open doorway. Yoongi just shrugged his hand out of Jimin's grasp and started walking faster. Away from Jimin.

"Yoongi! Where are you going?" Jimin's words were met with silence as Yoongi disappeared behind the corner of the run-down motel. Jimin didn't go after him. He didn't have the strength to. So, instead, he turned around and went back into the room, where he scowled at the mess on the floor.

He felt so lost. So very lost. He never has the energy to do anything anymore. He never has motivations to do anything besides stay next to Yoongi's side, and he even failed at doing that.

You'll get used to it.
The words repeated in his head as a horrible taste came into his mouth. He didn't bother changing into night clothes, he just laid on the twin-sized, blanket strewn bed, staring at the crack, stained filled ceiling. He didn't go to sleep. He didn't have the energy to go to sleep. So instead he got lost in his own miserable thoughts, half wanting nothing but his lover to come back, and the other half wanting him to never show up again.