The Dreaming Of Escape !! (Jikook) chapter 2

Nabi (Author)

Hello everyone 👋🏻🤗 Hope you'll doing good .. let's not waste time nd proceed...... Go Go Go ..!!!! 🤣🤣

Nabi (Author)

Continue of chapter first...

Nabi (Author)

Namjoon had notified Jimin’s driver, Geonwu, to meet them out front at the curb, per usual, but this time, they both slid into the backseat. Neither one of them had to say anything to Geonwu. He knew to drop Namjoon off first, since he lived closer to the office.

Namjoon (Assistant)

“You’ll be gone… ten days? Right?” **Namjoon asked, still on his phone. Jimin slumped into his leather seat, leaning his head back as he closed his eyes.**

Jimin (CEO)

“You’re my assistant, shouldn’t you know?” he mumbled.

Namjoon (Assistant)

“Yeah, I’m your assistant to get away from your father, so,” (**Namjoon said rhetorically, and Jimin cracked a small smile.**) “Ten days it is, then. If you come back earlier or later, I’ll panic.”

Jimin (CEO)

“I’ve never seen you panic once.” (Jimin then sat up straight, the seatbelt pulling at his waist.) “This is why sharing you pisses me the fuck off. You should be coming with me on these overseas trips.”

Namjoon (Assistant)

“I could do it, but your father sends a search party when I’m in the bathroom for longer than two minutes.” (Namjoon peered out the window, recognizing his street.)) “I’ll see you in the office tomorrow—oh, look, Kyungwan-ssi already e-mailed me asking why he’s covering for you. Shame I’m dead asleep and can’t answer that until seven thirty-one tomorrow morning.”

Jimin (CEO)

“Real damn shame. G’night, Joon-hyung,” (Jimin said. “Leave Jinnie-hyung alone.”)

Namjoon (Assistant)

“It’s not that late,” Namjoon said, and then he slipped out of the car and slammed the door shut, patting the hood to indicate to Geonwu that he was out.

Nabi (Author)

The car pulled away, and Jimin ran both hands down his face tiredly, subsequently staring at the passenger seat headrest in a sort of daze that he experienced often. At least two or three times as week, he stared into the abyss and wondered what he was doing. His quality of life was so piss poor in comparison to the quantity of years he had lived thus far, and he figured there had to be a breaking point. He just hadn’t reached it yet, a phenomenal achievement given his ever-fading patience.

Geonwu (PD)

“Anywhere rather than home, Master Park?” Geonwu asked.

Nabi (Author)

He was Jimin’s secret keeper in a lot of ways, never said a word about where Jimin chose to be taken when he was off the clock, and he had been driving Jimin around since Jimin turned ten-years-old. He had seen debauchery of all kinds.

Jimin (CEO)

“No, Geonwu-nim. Just home,” Jimin said politely.😊

Nabi (Author)

Geonwu dropped him off in front of his high-security, multi-billion won apartment in Hannam on the top floor. Jimin slept in his king-sized bed and did very little else within the walls of his apartment. It wasn’t home. It was just cold.

Nabi (Author)

There was no one there to greet him, not even a dog or a house plant. He couldn’t care for anyone or anything with the way that he worked his life away. Jimin pushed through the gate and took the elevator to the top floor, and then he unlocked his door and threw his keys into the metal bowl, shrugging out of his Brioni suit jacket.

Nabi (Author)

He tossed it onto the back of the couch and went straight to the fridge to grab a beer, because there was no chance of him falling asleep just yet. He opened the pantry and ripped open the lid of a pack of microwave instant ramen. He added the water. He tossed it into the microwave. He’d done this yesterday, too. Maybe the day before, as well, but he couldn’t remember.

Nabi (Author)

With a beer in one hand, Jimin loosened his tie and collapsed onto the couch that had a human-shaped indent on just one side where he always sat. The remote was exactly where he had left it because no one else was going to watch his 4K television. He took a swig of beer and flicked on the TV, thinking that maybe he could create a rift in the monotony of his solitary nights, knowing that there was very little chance of such a momentous occurrence.

Nabi (Author)

The microwave beeped a few times. Jimin blinked at the nightly news, watching the ticker across the bottom of the screen until he saw that Park Consolidated’s stock had closed a few points higher than yesterday. The microwave beeped again.

Jimin (CEO)

Shut up, God damn it! Jimin wanted to yell,

Nabi (Author)

But he couldn’t find the energy. Instead, he quietly set his beer onto the side table, got up, and grabbed his noodles. He stirred in the sauce, dropped an ice cube into the contents, and grabbed some chopsticks. This was dinner. This was dinner all the time.

Nabi (Author)

One time about ten months ago, Namjoon’s modest little two-bedroom apartment was being renovated, so he stayed for three nights with Jimin. In those three nights, Jimin ate actual meals because Namjoon had bothered to cook something. It was basic, rudimentary Korean food, but it felt like home. Jimin had had someone sitting on the couch beside him for those three nights. He’d had someone sleeping in one of the two guest rooms he had that he never touched for those three nights. His dishes were dirty for three nights. His kitchen had cried in happiness from being used for three nights.

Nabi (Author)

Not tonight, though. Tonight, Jimin was alone. He’d go to work alone in the morning. He would get on a plane in solitude to Los Angeles in the afternoon. He would spend ten days in Los Angeles alone. And then he would fly home by himself. Lather, rinse, repeat,

Nabi (Author)

His bank account showed millions upon millions. Jimin felt poor.

🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃🌃😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😴😪😪😪🛌🏻🛌🏻🛌🏻🛌🏻🛌🏻🛌🏻🛌🏻

Later!!!! After that night 🌃 The next day in the afternoon.. At airport

Someone “PLEASE REMOVE YOUR SHOES! PLEASE REMOVE JACKETS! PLEASE REMOVE YOUR BELTS! ONE AT A TIME!”

Nabi (Author)

Jimin raised one tired eyebrow and blinked as the woman in front of him turned to her travel partner and asked if she really had to remove her jacket, and why it was necessary to put her laptop in a completely separate bin

Jimin's travel partner “Efficiency,” she complained, but if only she knew that she was the wrench in the well-oiled machine of the security line.

Nabi (Author)

Airports, and all aspects of flying, had long since lost their magic for Jimin. This flight was only one of easily hundreds. He was on a plane quite easily once a week and had a lifetime platinum membership to Transpacific Airlines, always in first class and always waited on hand and foot, if only he appreciated the service more. The poor flight attendants were always clambering for something to do to assist the Park Jimin, the face of his father’s multi-billion won company that manufactured automobile parts and tech for international export. Park Jimin, the face of a company he hated with every fucking fiber of his being.

Nabi (Author)

But Jimin had been raised and groomed to be the face of the company, something he thought about in idle time like in line for security check. The transition had been seamless—his father’s appearance, physically and for business, had lost its luster right around when Jimin had turned eighteen. So his father had promised all shareholders and interested parties that he firstborn son, his only son, the pride and joy of the family, was going to be inheriting a larger role before eventually wearing the crown. This, of course, had shoved Jimin right into the spotlight against his will. Now he had people snapping random pictures of him on the streets of Seoul, millions following his personal account on Instagram (an idea from the board of directors), and a whole slew of women interested in him as South Korea’s most eligible yet accessible bachelor.

Nabi (Author)

If only they knew.😏💁🏻‍♀️

Nabi (Author)

Jimin’s father knew damn well that Jimin had no interest in women, but that was the trade-off. Jimin agreed to be the face of Park Consolidated if his father kept fucking quiet about his sexuality and let him do what (who) he wanted, as long as he hid it from the world. So, naturally, there was no love lost between father and son, and Jimin preferred to keep it that way.

Security check lady “No shoes, remove your shoes! No jackets, please! One person at a time!”

Nabi (Author)

Jimin had taken his shoes off five minutes ago. He laptop was tucked under one arm, shoes pinched at the heels between his fingers. His father kept telling him to get pre-check approval, but sometimes, Jimin enjoyed the monotony and normalcy of joining others in the security line. It kept him grounded—ironic, seeing as he spent so much time in the air.

Security check guard at airport “Come through, please,”

Nabi (Author)

The man said, gesturing to Jimin once he had set all his stuff into bins on the conveyer belt. Jimin stepped into the machine and held his arms up, and then he stepped out when asked. Once he was given the nod of approval, he shuffled over and grabbed all of his stuff, stacked the bins accordingly, and continued on to his gate. Routine.

Nabi (Author)

Jimin had learned to travel light over the years. He was about to make his second most popular trip, after all. His first was to Japan. This time, he had to go to Los Angeles for both a meeting and and big to-do over the new product that involved a walkthrough, photos, the works. Most times he got lucky, and Namjoon could book him a nonstop flight. Other times, like now, he had to make a pitstop in another country. Namjoon knew that Jimin preferred Shanghai as a layover location, and though Jimin wasn’t looking forward to it, he couldn’t fault his best friend.

Nabi (Author)

Jimin had met Kim Namjoon when he was sixteen and Namjoon had just turned eighteen. Jimin’s father had been looking for a young, intelligent assistant who wasn’t interested in pay, but in experience. And Namjoon, the genius he was, had offered to do the job. Jimin had found out later that Namjoon wasn’t an idiot—he had only taken the job so that he could make the request to assist Jimin later down the track when Park Sangchul, one of the richest men in Korea with one (gay) heir to his throne, inevitably stepped down. So now, although he did a lot for Jimin’s father, Namjoon did most of his work for Jimin. They also happened to be best friends through circumstance, and Namjoon was often a buffer between father and son, making father see reason and son calm the fuck down.

“Excuse me, sorry,” a mother pushing her child in a stroller said hastily, nearly running over Jimin’s feet as she barreled towards the gate to board first.

Nabi (Author)

Jimin took a deep, cleansing breath and readjusted the AirPods in his ears, knowing that he wouldn’t have to deal with her once he had his seat in first class. Or so he hoped.

Nabi (Author)

Jimin laid his iPhone flat on the scanner and used his electronic ticket to board, carrying his small bag with him, subsequently shoving his phone into his pocket. The only downside of being a businessman at twenty-five was that he had to dress halfway decent on flights and couldn’t bum out. He was wearing black jeans with a decent stretch to them from constant wear, paired with a white linen button-up that he had unbuttoned almost halfway. His black hair was usually styled nicely, but for long flights like this, he didn’t bother. It was soft and free from product, pushed back often thanks to both hands but hanging in his eyes as he walked down the ramp towards the front of the plane.

flight attendant “Welcome back, Mr. Park,” 😄

Nabi (Author)

the flight attendant said the moment Jimin stepped onto the plane, bowing to him. Jimin nodded his head with a small smile. Most of the flight attendants and pilots working Transpacific Airlines knew him rather well, recognized him instantly. Jimin took the first aisle and took his seat, the window seat open for whatever stranger would occupy it for two hours, maybe for the twelve-hour trip to Los Angeles. Sometimes Jimin got two different seat mates. Sometimes the person booked the same seat twice, just like Jimin did.

Nabi (Author)

Jimin shoved his bag onto the floor, keeping room for whoever sat at the window to walk through the space thanks to the copious amount of legroom available. He collapsed into the seat and sighed, running all ten fingers through his hair and wishing the flight over already. The three-hour layover in Shanghai was what he was dreading the most. At least he got to spend it in the Transpacific Lounge away from the chaos. Was he going to be able to get any sleep on the twelve-hour leg of the flight?

Cut Cut Cut Cut Cut !!!!!!

Nabi (Author)

Okay soo that's it for today ... So next episode is going to intersting cause the introduction of Jungkook in that chapter😁🌝... So wait till the next update ..I'll try to update soon.. Till then, take care of yourself Byy 👋🏻👋🏻👋🏻💜😊 Work count 2212 Wow 😯 I don't know I can type this much ..😂😂