An hour later, Jungkook finally had the schedule sitting somewhat neatly in his mind. It was still messy around the edges and a few timings threatened to slip away every time he blinked, but he had done the work. Rows of meetings, transfers, reminders, and everything Taehyung had dumped on him earlier were now sitting in his memory, mostly cooperating. His brain felt sore from forcing it all in, but he had pushed through because there was no other option.
He wiped his palms on the sides of his jeans. His throat felt tight. He had not eaten since morning and had barely had water. His stomach kept reminding him, louder by the minute, but he ignored it again and knocked on the office door.
"Come in," Taehyung said.
Jungkook stepped inside and kept his posture straight. He was careful this time. No slouching. No careless mistakes. Taehyung looked up at him with that slow, deliberate lift of his eyes that always made Jungkook feel like he was about to be judged from every angle.
"You finished memorising it," Taehyung said without a hint of warmth.
"Yes, sir. I can recite Monday fully. And the week's meeting slots," Jungkook replied.
Taehyung leaned back in his chair. "Show me."
Jungkook began. His voice stayed steady even though he felt oddly lightheaded. He listed timings, names, departments, locations, and everything else he had crammed into his brain in the last sixty minutes. He stumbled twice but fixed both slips quickly. The whole time Taehyung watched him sharply, as if nothing Jungkook said could hide the way he was swaying slightly on his feet.
When Jungkook finished, Taehyung stayed silent for a few moments. Jungkook had to look at the floor to hide the slight shake in his fingers.
"Acceptable," Taehyung said at last.
Jungkook felt relief spread through his chest. It was not praise, but it was enough to breathe again.
"You will learn it cleaner next time."
"Yes, sir."
Taehyung stood and walked around the desk. Jungkook kept his eyes lowered. He did not trust himself to look up because the room still seemed to blend in at the edges. Taehyung stopped in front of him and Jungkook forced himself to stand straighter.
He could feel Taehyung's gaze moving over him. Slow. Observant. Jungkook tried to keep his breathing normal even though his throat felt like something was stuck inside it. His vision blurred for a moment and he blinked hard.
Taehyung did not comment. He said nothing at all. But Jungkook saw the small shift in his expression before the man turned away, something quiet and unreadable.
"You may leave," Taehyung said.
Jungkook bowed slightly and walked out. As soon as the hallway air hit him, he let out a slow breath and leaned briefly against the wall. His head throbbed. His lips felt dry. His body was running on nothing. He pressed his fingers against his temples and tried to steady himself.
He did not know that Taehyung, from inside the office, was still watching the closed door with a clenched jaw. Taehyung tapped his fingers on the desk once, then picked up his phone.
A few minutes later, Jungkook heard footsteps approaching. He straightened himself quickly, forcing away the dizziness, and looked up as Hannah stopped in front of him with a small frown.
"You look like you're about to collapse," she said. She held out a lunch box and a bottle of water. "Eat this. Drink. Now."
Jungkook blinked. "What? Why?"
"Because you look terrible," Hannah said. "And because someone clearly forgot humans need food."
Jungkook hesitated. "Did Mr. Kim, tell you to..."
"No," she cut in quickly. "Just take it. Do not argue. You need it."
She placed the items firmly in his hands. Jungkook stared at them, confused and embarrassed, but mostly relieved. His stomach growled loudly enough that Hannah raised an eyebrow.
"See? You are not fooling anyone," she said.
"I just did not have time," Jungkook muttered.
"Well, make time now," she replied. "Sit. Eat. I will not leave until you do."
Jungkook sighed but sank onto the bench beside the hallway window. The first bite made him realise just how badly he had needed food. His hands shook slightly while he ate but he felt warmth spreading back into his body.
Hannah sat nearby, pretending to scroll through her phone, but she kept glancing at him to make sure he was actually eating. Jungkook did not notice the small text she sent quietly once she confirmed he was finishing the meal.
He also did not notice Taehyung receive it. For now, Jungkook only knew that his stomach no longer hurt, his mind felt clearer, and the world was slowly returning to focus. He closed the lunch box when he was done and leaned back, finally breathing properly.
He had done acceptable work. He had survived the day. And for the first time since morning, he felt like he might actually stay upright.
Later, Jungkook stood in the employee parking lot, bent over the crooked handlebars of his bicycle. The evening lights made the bent metal look even worse. The front wheel wobbled every time he nudged it, the frame was scratched raw from that day's crash, and the chain kept slipping from the gear like it was exhausted. He tried to rotate the pedals backward to adjust it, but the whole thing clicked sharply in protest.
"Please," he whispered. "Just hold on for one more day."
His palms throbbed while he worked, the red marks from the heavy files still clearly stamped across his skin. His whole body felt drained. He had not eaten properly. His throat felt dry. His head felt light. The bicycle's stubborn clattering only added to the humiliation of an already miserable day.
He was fixing the loose chain when he heard a familiar, expensive-sounding engine glide into the lot. Jungkook froze. He lifted his head slowly.
Taehyung walked out of the building like he owned every particle of air around him, coat draped neatly over his arm. The driver hurried to open the back door, but Taehyung did not enter immediately. His eyes scanned the parking lot, bored, sharp, assessing.
Then they landed on Jungkook.
Jungkook straightened fast, nearly tripping over his own bicycle. He forced a smile that died immediately when the bicycle let out another pitiful metal clank. Taehyung's eyes flicked from the bent frame to Jungkook's flushed face, then to the chain Jungkook was still gripping.
It was worse than being yelled at. Taehyung's silent gaze was pure judgment. Cold and precise.
Jungkook swallowed and pretended to tighten something even though it made no difference. "It still works," he said quietly. "A little loud, but… it works."
The bicycle betrayed him instantly with another clatter.
Taehyung stepped closer, not enough to speak, but enough to make Jungkook feel ridiculously small. His gaze lingered on the broken reflector, the loose brake cable, the dented basket. Then it shifted to Jungkook's hands, the red lines on his palms, the tired slump in his shoulders.
"You still ride this?" Taehyung said.
Jungkook nodded. "Yes."
Taehyung took his time replying. His jaw tightened the slightest bit.
"It is unsafe."
"It is all I have," Jungkook murmured.
Taehyung stared for a long moment, expression unreadable. Not anger. Not pity. Something in between. Something tight and controlled that Jungkook could not decipher.
The driver came out of the car and bowed. He opened the back door for him. Taehyung slid inside with polished ease and shut the door without another glance. Or so Jungkook thought. The car rolled forward, then the tinted window lowered halfway. Jungkook froze with one hand still on his bicycle seat.
Taehyung looked at him again. A quiet, deep stare. Calculating. Disapproving. Maybe even… annoyed that Jungkook looked this helpless. Jungkook's chest tightened.
The window went up. The car drove away, smooth and perfect, leaving Jungkook and his shaky little bicycle behind. Jungkook let out a breath and leaned his forehead against the handlebars for a moment. Then he picked up the bicycle, hopped on, and pedaled away even though every rotation of the wheels made the chain rattle like it wanted to fall apart.
He tried not to think of Taehyung's last look. But it stayed with him all the way home, heavy and cutting, like a reminder that he had been seen, judged, and left without a single clue whether he had passed any test at all.