The set lights dimmed as the final "Cut!" echoed through the studio. The members of BTS let out a collective sigh, a mixture of exhaustion and relief palpable in the air. The shooting for the latest episode of *Run BTS* had finally wrapped up, and the energy that had sustained them through the laughter and challenges now waned, leaving them eager to unwind.

"Ah, I can't wait to get home and just collapse on my bed," Jimin groaned, stretching his arms above his head as if to physically shake off the weariness. He felt a stare on the back of his head and he knew it was his boyfriend— Taehyung must be wanting to head back too.

"Same," Yoongi chimed in, his eyes half-lidded with fatigue, yet a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "But first, let's grab something to eat. I could use some energy before I completely crash." He quickly added as he saw his fiancee pouting slightly, clearly energetic enough to roam around till the dawn.

The others nodded in agreement, their conversations quickly shifting to discussions about where to eat and what to do afterward. Jin, ever the eldest and caretaker (as the staffs jokingly call him), suggested they stop by a nearby mall to pick up some snacks and maybe even catch a late-night movie if they were up for it.

As the members bantered back and forth, teasing each other and making plans, Jungkook remained uncharacteristically quiet. He smiled when required, hummed in agreement, and nodded along with the conversation, but his thoughts were elsewhere. There was a heaviness in his chest that he couldn't shake, an odd sense of detachment from the lively chatter around him.

Taehyung noticed Jungkook's silence and nudged him playfully. "Kookie, what's up? You're so quiet tonight. Did we finally tire out the Golden Maknae?" His tone was light, but there was a hint of concern in his eyes.

Jungkook forced a small smile, shaking his head. "Just tired, hyung. I think I'll walk around the mall for a bit, clear my head."

"Want us to come with you?" Namjoon offered, his leader instincts kicking in, but Jungkook waved them off.

"Nah, I'm good. I'll just wander for a while. I'll catch up with you guys later."

The others exchanged glances but didn’t press further, understanding that sometimes, even within the closest bonds, solitude was necessary.

As they entered the mall, the bright lights and bustling crowds seemed to magnify Jungkook's sense of isolation. The familiar faces of his members faded into the background as he slowly distanced himself, his footsteps carrying him aimlessly through the maze of shops and cafes. He had no destination in mind, just the need to escape the noise, both external and internal.

He found himself wandering into the stationery section of a small, quiet store. The air was tinged with the scent of new paper and ink, a stark contrast to the vibrant energy outside. Jungkook's gaze drifted over the neatly arranged shelves, his fingers brushing against the smooth covers of notebooks and sketchpads.

There was a strange comfort in the silence of the store, but it was soon broken by the soft rustling of the staff. They recognized him, of course, and though they tried to be discreet, he could feel their curious gazes on him. Feeling a bit self-conscious, he pretended to browse, picking up random notebooks and flipping through their pages without really seeing them.

But then, something caught his eye—a small diary tucked away on a lower shelf. It had a deep navy-blue cover adorned with a delicate silver moon, surrounded by tiny stars that shimmered under the soft lights. It was simple yet beautiful, a quiet elegance that spoke to him in a way he hadn’t expected.

His heart tightened as he reached for it, the memory of someone who had once been very close to him surfacing without warning. The moon had always been their thing, a symbol of quiet conversations shared under the night sky, of dreams whispered in the dark when the world was asleep. Holding the diary in his hands, Jungkook felt a wave of nostalgia wash over him, mingled with a deep, aching regret.

He could still picture their smile, the way their eyes would light up whenever they spoke of the moon and its mysteries. They used to say that the moon was a mirror to the soul, reflecting the light of the sun and illuminating the darkest corners of the night. Back then, he had laughed it off, teasing them for being too sentimental. But now, standing alone in a mall filled with strangers, he understood. He understood too late.

Jungkook swallowed hard, the lump in his throat growing as he turned the diary over in his hands. The pages were blank, waiting to be filled with thoughts, with dreams, with the words he wished he could say to them. He could feel the weight of unsaid apologies pressing down on him, the words he'd never spoken lingering like shadows in the back of his mind.

Without really thinking, he made his way to the counter and purchased the diary, the staff’s polite smiles and soft-spoken words barely registering in his consciousness. The diary was now his, a small token of what once was, a silent promise to remember, to reflect.

As he exited the store, the noise of the mall rushed back in, but it felt distant, almost muted. He found a quiet corner to sit, the diary resting on his lap, and for the first time in a long while, Jungkook allowed himself to breathe. The moon was rising outside, its pale light filtering through the glass, casting a gentle glow on the pages that lay waiting.

He opened the diary, pen in hand, but no words came. Instead, he just stared at the blank page, feeling the weight of all that had been lost, all that had changed so quickly, like the shift from day to night. He could hear the echoes of his past self, the carefree boy who had laughed under the moonlight, oblivious to how fast the night could change.

And as he sat there, lost in thought, he realized that this diary was more than just a reminder of what had been. It was a chance to write a new story, one where he could finally express the feelings he had buried deep inside. It was a way to confront the regrets, to heal, even if only through the ink that would stain its pages.

The moon had always been a mirror to the soul, and now, under its silent gaze, Jungkook began to write, each word a small step towards finding peace within the night’s ever-changing shadows.

Dear Diary,

I find myself lost in reflection, haunted by the realization of how swiftly things can change. Just like the night morphs from day to darkness in the blink of an eye, so too did my relationship with him shift from warmth to cold. I wish I could rewind time, to take back the words and actions that caused him pain.

It’s as though I was a ship sailing recklessly, ignoring the warning signs of the storm I was brewing. Now, as I stand on the shore of my regret, the waves of my actions crash endlessly, reminding me of what I’ve lost. The night changes so quickly, and with it, the clarity of how deeply I’ve hurt someone I care about.

If only I could turn back the clock and navigate these waters with more care, maybe then the night wouldn’t have changed so harshly, and the horizon would still hold the promise of us.

—J∆J

The soft, haunting melody of Dancing with Your Ghost filled the room, wrapping itself around Jungkook like a blanket of sorrow. He sat on the edge of his bed, the dim light from the lamp casting long shadows on the walls of the room he shared with Jin. The space felt colder these days, emptier, despite Jin's presence just a few feet away.

Jungkook stared at the ceiling, the lyrics resonating with the ache in his chest. Two weeks had passed, but the memory of that night was still vivid, burning in the back of his mind like a wound that refused to heal. He could still taste the remnants of the alcohol on his lips, feel the warmth of Jin’s breath, the softness of his touch. It had been a kiss born out of a drunken haze, but the emotions behind it were anything but nonsense or some stuff to joke about.

The morning after had been a different story, though. The sun had risen, casting harsh light on the reality of what they’d done. Jin had confronted him, voice quiet but eyes searching for something—an answer, a reassurance, anything. But all Jungkook had given him was harsh words and a cold dismissal.

He could still hear his own voice, laced with fear and panic. "You're making it up, hyung. It was just a mistake, okay? Nothing serious. Let's just forget about it." The words had spilled out before he could stop them, each one like a dagger aimed at Jin’s heart. But he had been aiming at himself too, slicing through the bond they had built over years of trust and friendship.

The look on Jin's face had been devastating. It was as if Jungkook had slapped him, the hurt in his eyes undeniable. But Jin, being the ever-composed eldest, had simply nodded, swallowing the pain that Jungkook had carelessly thrown at him. He had agreed, saying they should forget it, but his smile never reached his eyes again after that, he also went to the point of snapping that he wasn't actually dying to fantasize his life as if he were some fan.

Jungkook closed his eyes, the regret gnawing at him from the inside. How could he have been so stupid? So cowardly? He hadn't meant any of it. Not a single word. The kiss hadn’t been a mistake; it had been real, more real than anything he’d felt in a long time. But his fear had blinded him, and in his desperation to maintain some semblance of normalcy, he had destroyed everything.

Now, things between them were different. There was a wall between them that hadn’t been there before, an invisible line that Jin never crossed. They still talked, they still laughed with the group, but it was all surface-level, all so painfully polite. The ease, the comfort, the silent understanding that had always existed between them—it was gone. And it was all Jungkook's fault.

He felt like an intruder in Jin's life now, even in their shared space. Jin had been giving him space, but it felt more like distance, a cold barrier that kept Jungkook at arm’s length. The warmth that had always been a part of their relationship was gone, replaced by something hollow, something fragile.

Jungkook had tried to convince himself that giving Jin space was the right thing to do, that maybe time would heal the wounds he had caused. But the longer this went on, the more he realized that he was only pushing Jin further away. The room they shared felt more like a cage now, filled with the ghosts of what had been, of what could have been if only he hadn’t been so afraid.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of his mistakes settle heavily on his shoulders. He wanted to take it all back. Every word, every moment of cowardice, every second of pushing Jin away. But the past was etched in stone, unchangeable, and now all he had were regrets and the cold silence that filled the space between them.

The song played on, its mournful melody echoing the longing in his heart. Jungkook felt like he was dancing with a ghost—Jin’s ghost, the ghost of what they once were. He wanted so badly to reach out, to bridge the gap, to pull Jin back into his orbit. But every time he tried, the fear of rejection, the fear of making things worse, held him back.

I’m sorry, hyung. The words were stuck in his throat, lodged there like a stone. He wanted to say them, to explain everything, to tell Jin that the kiss hadn't meant nothing to him, that he was just scared. But Jin deserved better than apologies now. He deserved the truth. And the truth was that Jungkook was scared of losing him completely, scared that even if he said everything, Jin might not want him back.

Jungkook’s eyes drifted to the diary on his bedside table, the one he had bought earlier that day. He had wanted to use it to sort out his feelings, to write down everything he couldn’t say out loud and he did. But now, he realized that words on a page wouldn’t fix this. Only action could.

As the song faded into silence, Jungkook made a decision. He couldn’t keep running, couldn’t keep hiding behind his fear. Jin deserved more than this half-hearted distance, more than polite conversation and forced smiles. If there was even the slightest chance of repairing what he had broken, he had to take it.

He got up from the bed, his heart pounding in his chest. Jin was in the living room, probably lost in a book or scrolling through his phone, unaware of the turmoil that had been brewing inside Jungkook. But Jungkook was determined now. He would face Jin, he would tell him the truth, no matter how terrified he was of the outcome.

Because even if the night had changed, even if he had made mistakes, there was still time. Time to rewrite their story, to bring back the warmth, to stop dancing with ghosts and start living again.

Jungkook took a deep breath, steadying himself. He walked towards the living room, each step heavy with the weight of his decision. He wasn’t sure what he would say, or how Jin would react, but he knew one thing for certain—he wouldn’t let fear control him anymore.

As he rounded the corner, he saw Jin sitting on the couch, the soft glow of his phone illuminating his face. Jungkook’s heart clenched at the sight, but he pushed forward. He had to do this. For both of them.

“Hyung,” he called out softly, his voice barely above a whisper. Jin looked up, surprise flickering in his eyes. Jungkook took another step, the words he had held back for so long finally ready to be spoken.

“I need to talk to you… about that night.”

And with that, the ghosts that had haunted him for the past two weeks began to fade, replaced by the hope of something real, something true.

A/N— I don't have any excuses for updating so late. Sorry for my careless behaviour. I've started writing the another part too and it'll get updated by tomorrow. Happy belated birthday to our angel koo. 🦋🥝

Do vote for some motivation.

Date- 2nd Sep 24
Words count- 2.5K+