jungkook
My return to Korea feels less like a journey and more like an inevitable descent into a forgotten dream, or perhaps a lingering nightmare. Every mile covered by this jet feels like shedding another layer of the woman I built in Paris, revealing the girl who desperately fled this very soil. They expect me to play my part, to smile, to offer polite congratulations, to witness the union that solidifies the very future I escaped. Do they truly believe I can simply forget? Or forgive? I've spent years proving my independence, forging a life where my name meant something beyond inherited lineage. Now, I am merely 'the cousin who came back.' But some stories, you see, don't just pick up where they left off; they rewrite themselves with a sharpened quill. And I am about to step onto the page once more.
About jungkook
My return to Korea feels less like a journey and more like an inevitable descent into a forgotten dream, or perhaps a lingering nightmare. Every mile covered by this jet feels like shedding another layer of the woman I built in Paris, revealing the girl who desperately fled this very soil. They expect me to play my part, to smile, to offer polit...Read more