Jungkook: A Fictional Narrative

“His palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy. There's vomit on his sweater already: mom's spaghetti. He's nervo-”
“You better shut up, Jungkook.” Jhope lightly slapped the younger’s shoulder as Jungkook quickly raised his arms in a defensive boxing position.
“Yeah, Jungkook. Can’t you see? Jhope’s getting old.” Namjoon taunted with an eyebrow raised. Both of them stared each other with _____ while ignoring the younger one of the group jumping around and throwing light punches at Jhope’s arm in the middle of the amusement park.
“Like you should be talking.” Jhope scoffed. “We were born in the same year.”
“But Namjoon, you can’t really blame him for being scared.” Jungkook looked at the roller coaster behind Jhope while dropping his punches.

“Thank you, Jungkook.

At least I have one nice, understanding fr-”
“I mean, he is a chicken,” snickered Jungkook, making him and Namjoon erupt into laughter and giggles.
Jhope furrowed his eyebrows at them. “Why are you laughing? It’s not even funny.” They ignored him and continued laughing, but raised their eyebrows with curiosity when Jhope stomped a little on the ground, similar to that of an elementary schooler. “I am not a chicken.”
“Prove it.” Jungkook’s index pointed at the ride behind Jhope. “Be a lone rider on that roller coaster.”
The victim didn’t even turn around, fully aware of the ride behind him, and instead answered with a blunt, “No. You’re crazy.” To assert the point even more, he gave a slightly harder slap on Jungkook’s arm. It was also to help assert dominance over the kid.
Jungkook looked up from under his lashes, looking quite innocent for a little devil. “You’re not going to do it?” A sly grin slipped onto his face. “Is it because you’re a chicken?”
“Am not.”
“Are

too.”
“Then do it.” A voice intervened the childish dispute, and they glance at Namjoon who had a lingering smirk. “Nothing to be scared of.”
That’s how Jhope ended up standing on the platform, in the front of the line, alone, while Namjoon and Jungkook were eating ice cream somewhere down on the ground.
“Any single riders?” asked the ______. Jhope couldn’t look them in the eye as he raised his hand slightly. “Ok. Come follow me.” The man walked to one of the carts and gestured to a seat next to a boy as Jhope followed with wobbling knees. “Take a seat.”
Jhope took a seat without looking over at the boy, for he was more focused on tightening the seatbelt until his body turns blue from loss of blood circulation.
“I think it’s tight enough,” said a breathy and squeezed voice, causing Jhope to jump, well if he didn’t have a seat belt over his lap ______ to the seat, he would’ve.
Jhope turned to the cute boy sitting next to him. He wore a pearly smile with twinkling eyes, and he reached up with a small hand to brush some orange hair out of his eyes.
“Do you wanna loosen that a bit?” the boy asked with a breathless laugh. “I can’t feel my legs.” That comment made Jhope actually take notice of the structure of the seatbelt, and he couldn’t help but cringe at his stupidity. The shared seatbelt stretched over the lap of the boy and Jhope’s, slowly cutting into both of their thighs.
Jhope felt something lurch at the back of his throat, but tried his best to ignore it. “I think it’s fine.”