"It's going to be okay. Jungkook, look at me."
Jungkook forced his head to turn to the left, his eyes meeting the watery ones of his mother. His elbows were resting on his knees, his body folding over itself as he struggled to keep his breaths even. He just had to pretend to be okay, and then he would be. It was like what his dad had used to tell him: To sell something to others, you have to sell it to yourself first.
"It's going to be fine, okay? We'll...we're going to be fine."
"Yeah," he said, his tongue dry in his mouth as he paid her the empty reassurance. It wasn't fine. Not even remotely. Every time he looked up at the chalky white ceiling, the light would sting his eyes, morphing into headlights, the scream of the tires against the wet street, scraping for traction, his fingers tight on the wheel-
It wasn't fine.
But maybe he was just selling it well enough that it looked that way to her.
"It'll be fine," he said again, giving his mom's hand a small squeeze. "We'll..."
They lapsed into silence. People rushed all around them, paying them no attention. The reality was at odds with Jungkook's perception of his environment; he felt like they should all be staring at him, like they should all somehow know. But they didn't. He was invisible. He was nobody.
His mom began twisting the bracelet on her wrist, the one his dad had gotten her a few years ago. The small pearls were shiny but worn, and the clasp was broken; the bracelet only held together around her wrist with the assist of a small rubber band. Jungkook had told her a million times to just buy a new chain, but she always refused. He'd also told her to throw the bracelet out altogether, but she refused to do that too.
She saw him watching, and she dropped her other hand from the bracelet, setting it on his shoulder instead and squeezing. Her fingers were bony, and so was his shoulder, so it hurt a little. "Listen, Jungkook, it's going to be-"
"Jeon Jungkook?"
Jungkook stood up altogether too quickly, his mom's hand falling off his shoulder. "Yes. That's- that's me."
"Right this way," announced the clerk, and Jungkook looked over his shoulder, waiting for his mom to get up. She gave him a nod, her lips pulled into a tight grimace in an attempt to offer him the smallest of comforts as she stood up, smoothing her hands down the front of her pants to try to get out any wrinkles.
He wanted to squeeze her hand tightly, but he tucked them into his pockets instead to hide the shaking. He followed the clerk into the room, catching the reflection of his dark eyes in the glossy wood as the clerk read out his name and case number.
"Jeon Jungkook, you stand here today because you were texting while driving, and you hit the car of a boy the same age as yourself. After receiving medical care, this boy survived the accident but, due to a spinal cord injury suffered as a result, has lost the use of his legs."
Jungkook curled inward slightly, his shoulders hunching as his stomach hardened, all the air forced out of his lungs. His eyes dipped down for a moment as he forced himself to take a breath before looking back up at the judge, who stared back at him with eyes void of sympathy.
"This boy will likely never be able to walk again as a result of your poor choices," the judge said, and within his pockets, Jungkook's hands clenched. The nails would have been digging into his palms if he hadn't bitten them all down to slivers. Each word the judge spoke delivered a harsh blow to Jungkook, and by the end of the sentence, he felt so small, like he was being glared at from the wrong end of a magnifying glass.
"What do you have to say in your defense?" the judge asked, clasping his hands in front of himself, and Jungkook hesitated, his tongue thick and heavy in his mouth.
"I'm so sorry," he mumbled, his eyes falling to the ground and this time, staying. "So sorry. I didn't..." He felt a hot sting at the corner of his eye and he sniffed, embarrassed by the tears. He hated crying, and doubly hated crying in front of other people. "I didn't mean to...I was just...I didn't mean to hurt anyone," he said after he'd gotten his eyes under control, looking back up at the judge. He wondered if he looked remorseful. He was, absolutely. But sometimes his feelings on the inside didn't match up with what people saw on the outside. He hoped the judge could tell that he was sincere. He didn't care that much about himself. He'd screwed up. He deserved whatever the punishment was. But his mom didn't deserve to suffer, even if she was anyway. And whoever the boy in the other car was, he'd never deserved that.
The judge stared at him for a horribly long moment before he rested his chin on his entwined fists. "I believe you son, as does the boy's mother," he said, gesturing towards a pale woman sitting in the first row on the opposite side of the room. She didn't look over at Jungkook, just stared straight ahead like she might break apart at any moment if she shifted her gaze. "But regardless of what you wanted or didn't want, there are consequences to your reckless actions that took away this boy's mobility."
For a moment, Jungkook felt a sick sense of relief that the other boy wasn't in the courtroom. He didn't think he could face him. He couldn't even face the boy's mother, and he could only barely face the aging man before him who only knew Jungkook as the name on a case file.
"In cases like these, there's usually a fine," the judge began, and Jungkook swallowed, thinking of the curling wallpaper in their kitchen and the flaking paint coating the outside of their house. "But after speaking with the boy's mother, we've agreed to waive the fine in exchange for a court-mandated service program to be performed within your community."
"A program?" Jungkook asked, the guilt in his stomach mixing with confusion. Nobody had mentioned this as an alternative to him.
"A community program," the judge confirmed with a nod. "If you agree, then we'll identify a suitable program to fit the situation. You would complete the program during one semester, and after your supervisor signs off, you'll be finished with repaying your debt to society. That, along with the condition that you never text and drive again. Should you be arrested for doing so, the penalty will be exponentially severe." The judge paused deliberately. "Or, should you decide otherwise, you can pay the fine in full."
Jungkook didn't stop long to think about it, only as long as it took him to look back at his mother, the bracelet going round and round on her wrist, the rubber band holding the bracelet together. "I'll do the program," he told the judge, hesitating before adding, "Thank you, Your Honor. And..." Jungkook sent a quick glance over at the boy's mother, but she didn't acknowledge him. Stomach hot with guilt, he looked back at the judge and nodded, eyes flicking downward.
The judge gave him a stern nod before dismissing them, and Jungkook turned around, pulling his mom into a one-armed hug.
"Honey, this is great," she said, her eyes still watery but a genuine smile on her face. Her teal scrubs peeked out from beneath her slacks. "I told you it would be okay, right? You just have to complete the program and..."
He tuned out her nervous rambling for a moment. It felt like he'd gotten off too easy. It didn't seem right.
Some kid couldn't use his legs, and Jungkook just had to complete a one-semester program and stay off his phone?
"This is great," his mom continued, wiping her eyes, bracelet sliding a few centimeters down her wrist.
He felt sick.
