Jungkook hated mirrors.
Not because he was ugly—he wasn't. He had soft features, big brown eyes, and pouty lips that turned pink when he cried (which was more often than he'd admit). No, he hated mirrors because they reminded him of how small he was. How breakable. How easy it was to overlook someone like him.
He tugged on the sleeves of his oversized hoodie, which had more holes than stitches, and tried to smooth down the wild curls of his hair. Pointless. His reflection still looked like a boy trying too hard to disappear.
The tiny apartment groaned as he stepped into the hallway. Water dripped from a rusted pipe. Mold clung to the corners like parasites. He passed by his neighbor's door, already hearing raised voices and something shattering.
Just another Tuesday.
At the convenience store, Jungkook bowed politely to his manager and clocked in. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, washing everything in a pale, sickly glow. He didn't mind. It was better than being home. Here, at least, he could pretend to be useful.
"Hey, loser," muttered a voice behind him. Jungkook stiffened.
Hoseok, a part-timer from another shift, leaned over the counter and sneered. "Heard you got shoved into the trash yesterday. Again."
Jungkook forced a smile. "Yeah… guess I deserved it."
"Pathetic," Hoseok snorted.
Jungkook nodded and went back to stocking the shelves, each movement quiet and precise. He didn't cry. Not yet. He couldn't waste his tears—not when he needed them to fall asleep later.
Hours passed. People came and went. Jungkook offered smiles, bowed, and thanked them all in a soft voice. He was good at pretending. It was the only thing he'd ever been praised for.
As the clock neared midnight, the streets emptied. The store grew quiet. Jungkook cleaned the counter for the third time, humming softly to himself. A lullaby his mother used to sing.
He looked up at the moon through the glass windows.
"I hope… something changes soon," he whispered.
He didn't want much. Just peace. Safety. Maybe someone who wouldn't hurt him.
He didn't know it yet, but fate had already started moving.
And somewhere above, in a glass tower that touched the stars, a man who didn't exist was already dreaming of a boy he hadn't met.
Jungkook closed his eyes and let the silence wrap around him.
Tomorrow would come.
And it would be anything but ordinary.