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«🎡DREAMS CHAPTER🎡» - hayot kitobingizdagi orzular bobingiz, biz bilan orzularingizni yarating🕊💜 Fanfics: @dreams_chapter_katalog Webtoon: @DCh_webtoon Instagram: Instagram.com/dreams_chapter
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Chapter 7
— Shattering
It started with a photograph.
A framed one, placed neatly on a forgotten shelf in the studio lounge. Jungkook hadn’t meant to notice it—he had only been wandering the halls, trying to ground himself in something that felt real. But his eyes landed on it, and everything stopped.
It was the seven of them. Him, the others. Smiling wide, arms thrown around each other. And her—standing just off to the side, barely in frame, caught mid-laugh. The camera hadn’t even focused on her, but Jungkook’s heart clenched all the same.
That laugh.
He turned away before the flood could rise. But the echo followed him.
By the time practice ended, he was barely holding himself together.
The sun had gone down when Namjoon found him alone in the break room, his untouched water bottle resting on the table, hands trembling slightly.
“You okay?” Namjoon asked gently.
Jungkook didn’t answer right away. “I saw her,” he said at last. “In a photo.”
Namjoon closed his eyes for a moment, then pulled out a chair and sat across from him.
“You all knew about her, didn’t you?”
The silence was answer enough.
Jungkook looked up, his eyes hollow. “Why didn’t anyone say anything?”
Namjoon sighed. “Because we didn’t know how to. You were—are—grieving. But with no memories... telling you everything might’ve broken you before you were ready.”
“Ready for what?” His voice cracked.
Namjoon reached into his coat pocket, then placed something on the table.
A necklace. A tiny, silver forget-me-not charm on a delicate chain.
“She gave this to you,” he said quietly. “You never took it off. Until the accident.”
Jungkook stared at it. For a moment, the whole world blurred. His throat closed, chest rising and falling too fast.
“She loved you,” Namjoon said. “And we loved her too. But after... we made a choice. To let you heal before letting the memories back in.”
Tears welled in Jungkook’s eyes. He didn’t even know her name—but his soul ached like it had always known her.
“She was real, wasn’t she?” he whispered.
Namjoon nodded. “Very real. And you... you were different when she was around. Happier. Softer. Like she saw parts of you none of us could.”
The necklace trembled in Jungkook’s hand.
“I keep dreaming about her,” he admitted. “And when I wake up... it’s like she’s still here. But slipping through my fingers.”
Namjoon gave a sad smile. “Then maybe it’s time you remember her on your own terms. Not what we tell you, not what we hide. Just… what your heart finds.”
The studio lights buzzed faintly overhead. Outside, the night pressed against the windows.
And for the first time since the accident, Jungkook didn’t push the memories away.
He held the necklace tight in his hand, and let himself remember.
Chapter 6
– Unspoken Things
There were shadows in the silence.
I started avoiding mirrors.
Not out of fear—but confusion. I didn’t recognize the man looking back at me. The angle of my jaw, the hollow around my eyes, the scar just beneath my hairline. All pieces of a story I didn't – don't – remember living.
The company had welcomed me back gently. They kept the schedule light—just a few hours a day, casual meetings, quiet practice sessions in sunlit rooms. The others treated me with care, with the kind of caution reserved for something fragile. Too careful, almost.
That’s what unsettles me.
I am not sure when i began noticing the glances. The way their voices faltered when I mentioned the past. The subtle shift in energy whenever I asked too many questions. I thought i was imagining it—until it became impossible to ignore.
Yoongi, who always met my gaze, suddenly started avoiding it when I asked about an old song he once worked on.
Jimin, who once teased me relentlessly, now changed the subject whenever a certain word came up. Her.
Even Hoseok, the most open-hearted of them all, had started hesitating.
There was a name no one dared to say. A presence that lingered like smoke in every corner of the studio, in every half-finished sentence.
I never asked directly. I didn’t need to. The silence told me everything.
Something had happened. Something that involved her. Involved me.
And they all knew.
That night, i sat on the rooftop of the building. The city was glowing beneath me, endless lights stretching into the distance. I held a paper cup of coffee, untouched.
I closed my eyes. A flash of her laughter—echoing like windchimes. A memory, maybe. Or a dream.
I don't want to press. Not yet.
Because deep down, I know: when the truth come, it will change everything.
Chapter 5
– Not yet whole
The city looked different from behind tinted glass. Taller. Louder. Too alive.
Jungkook sat in the backseat of the black van, his fingers curled around the strap of his bag. He hadn’t been here in weeks, but it felt like years. The skyline blurred past him as they drove, and each familiar street sign sent a strange shiver down his spine.
When they pulled up in front of the HYBE building, a dull ache settled in his chest.
“Ready?” the manager asked gently.
He wasn’t. But he nodded anyway.
Inside, the halls were quieter than usual—either by coincidence or a silent courtesy extended to him. Familiar faces passed by, nodding respectfully, offering small smiles that didn’t quite reach their eyes. Everyone knew. Everyone was watching.
He headed to the practice room first. The polished floors reflected his uncertain steps. Mirrors lined the wall, showing him a version of himself he still couldn’t quite claim. He stood there for a moment, watching his reflection breathe.
Then came the first crack.
Laughter.
A flash of someone tugging him by the wrist.
Her voice, teasing— “Come on, slowpoke.”
He stumbled backward, breath caught in his throat.
The vision passed as quickly as it came.
He shook his head, pressing his fingers against his temple.
Not now.
Later, on the rooftop, he stood in silence, the wind brushing his hair. The sky stretched pale and cloudless above, just like in the memory.
She had stood here once. He remembered the way she leaned on the railing, face tilted up, her laugh tangled in the breeze.
“I wish we could stay here forever,” she’d said.
Jungkook gripped the railing. His chest tightened.
More fragments returned—her hand brushing his, the warmth of her gaze, the way she whispered his name like a secret only they shared.
“Kook…”
He staggered back, eyes wide.
“Jungkook?”
He turned. It was Jimin, standing at the entrance to the rooftop, concern etched into his face.
“You okay?” Jimin asked softly.
Jungkook nodded too quickly. “Yeah. Just… needed some air.”
Jimin stepped closer, not pushing. “It’s a lot, huh?”
“I thought coming back might help,” Jungkook murmured. “But being here just makes everything louder.”
Jimin hesitated, then offered a faint smile. “You don’t have to rush this. Healing isn’t a schedule.”
Jungkook didn’t answer. His gaze drifted toward the sky again.
Something was breaking open inside him. Not violently—but slow, like thawing ice. He could feel her in the spaces between the silence, in the echoes left behind.
He just wasn’t sure if remembering would save him…
…or destroy him.
Chapter 4
— In the stillness
I avoided the piano after that day.
I avoided everything that might trigger those flashbacks.
Suddenly, I didn’t want to remember anything. It felt like my heart couldn’t handle whatever truths might unravel.
Maybe... Taehyung was right.
I had to forget, move on, rest, and heal.
I couldn’t leave the house—reporters still lingered by my doorway. Nearly a month had passed, but they hadn’t gone away.
So, I fell into a routine: drinking coffee every morning, making lunch and dinner by following recipes on the internet.
I began doubting if I was really a singer. It felt like maybe I was born to cook. Strange as it sounds, the kitchen became my refuge—the farthest place from the room with the piano.
I watched TV a lot, learning about myself through fan-made YouTube videos.
Weird, right? The face was the same... but it felt different... unfamiliar.
Then I learned about my own band.
As I watched clips and read stories, flashes of memories returned — debut days, moments with the boys. Slowly, I remembered each member clearly.
But the memories weren’t complete. Something was still missing.
My heart knew what, and who, it was... but my mind avoided it like it was a death sentence.
Days passed.
One Monday morning, I was making coffee when the doorbell rang softly, breaking the heavy silence.
Wrapped in a loose robe, I moved slowly to the door.
Namjoon stood there, holding a small bag of takeout, wearing a tired but warm smile.
“I thought I’d bring you something,” he said quietly, stepping inside.
I nodded and led him to the living room. We settled onto the couch.
Namjoon took a deep breath. “The company’s been asking about you. The fans too. They want you back soon.”
The weight of his words sank in. I looked down. “I don’t know if I’m ready,” I whispered.
His eyes softened. “We all want you to rest. The boys worry... I worry.”
“But they expect me to come back. To perform. To act like nothing happened,” I said, voice barely audible.
“That’s the reality,” Namjoon admitted.
I looked away, staring out the window as the sky began to lighten.
“Sometimes, I don’t even know who I am anymore.”
The edges of my vision blurred. A faint memory brushed past—rain, laughter, a voice calling my name.
I blinked, grounding myself. “I’m scared,” I finally admitted.
Namjoon reached out, placing a steady hand on my shoulder.
“It’s okay to be scared. We’ll face it all—step by step.”
Chapter 3
– Echoes
The house was too quiet.
Every sound—footsteps on hardwood, the hum of the refrigerator, the wind tapping against the window—felt amplified in the stillness. Jungkook wandered from room to room, as if trying to remember how to belong inside these walls.
The paintings were unfamiliar. The awards on the shelf didn’t move him. Even his own reflection felt like a stranger watching him from another world.
Then he found it.
A room he hadn’t noticed before—tucked at the end of the hall, partially ajar. He stepped inside. Sunlight streamed through sheer curtains onto polished wood.
A piano.
Something in his chest stirred.
He moved closer, fingertips brushing the smooth surface. He didn’t know how to play—or at least, he thought he didn’t. But something pulled at him. Something deep.
Before he could sit, the doorbell rang.
Moments later, Taehyung stood in the doorway, holding two cups of coffee and a bag of pastries.
“Brought bribes,” he said with a lopsided smile. “Figured you wouldn't eat otherwise.”
Jungkook accepted the cup silently, motioned for him to sit. The air between them held a fragile weight, like words balancing on the edge of being spoken.
Taehyung glanced around. “This place... hasn’t changed much.”
“You’ve been here before?”
Taehyung hesitated. “Yeah. A few times.”
Silence again. The only sound was the ticking of the old clock above the fireplace.
“Can I ask you something?” Jungkook finally said. “That girl. The one in the photo on my phone... who is she?”
Taehyung looked down, lips tightening around his cup.
“I don’t know if I’m the right person to answer that,” he said quietly.
“But you do know her.”
Taehyung looked up, eyes filled with something like sorrow—or guilt. “Everyone’s telling you to forget, huh? Move on. Rest. Heal.”
Jungkook said nothing.
“You used to play the piano when you were upset,” Taehyung continued. “You’d sit for hours. She used to sit next to you, even if you didn’t say a word.”
“She?” Jungkook’s voice was almost a whisper.
“She was…” Taehyung’s voice cracked. He stood suddenly. “Some songs hurt more when they’re remembered. Just... be careful what you let yourself recall.”
He left before Jungkook could ask more.
Later that night, Jungkook returned to the piano. Moonlight poured across the keys.
He sat down, letting his hands hover above the ivory. Without thinking, his fingers moved—hesitant at first, then more certain, as if some part of him remembered.
A melody formed. Gentle. Haunting.
And then, the world tilted.
The room faded away. Rain fell on cobblestones. Streetlights flickered above. A girl laughed, spinning in the downpour. She turned toward him—her eyes full of light and sadness.
“Kook... you promised me...”
He reached out to touch her face.
She vanished.
His eyes flew open. He was back at the piano, breath caught in his throat. His hands trembled on the keys.
And somewhere in the quiet of the room, a name echoed without sound.
He didn’t know it yet—but his heart did.
Chapter 2
– Cracks
Faint, broken sounds.
Nightmares and a strange, persistent ache in my chest.
These things have haunted me for over a week now.
Everyone seems worried.
Reporters and fans crowd outside the hospital like vultures.
My ward is constantly filled with unfamiliar faces — the manager, men in sharp black suits, others I don't recognize.
The news only talks about me and the accident.
Was I really this famous?
I don’t know.
I spend most of my days staring at the photo on that cracked phone screen.
Even though it makes my heart ache, I can’t seem to look away.
Who is that girl?
A few more days passed before the doctors finally said I could leave.
We slipped out through the back like fugitives.
They put me into a car with windows so dark not even shadows could pass through.
They said they were taking me home.
But how strange it is — to return to a place that was once called home and feel like a stranger.
Worse yet, to feel like a stranger in your own body.
“If you need anything, just call,” Namjoon said before he left.
And then I was alone.
Alone in this luxurious house, surrounded by silence and expensive things I didn’t recognize.
I wandered through the rooms.
There was alcohol everywhere — champagne, wine, cognac, whiskey. I even had a personal bar. But I didn’t touch any of it.
It felt like everything might shatter under my fingers, like someone might yell at me if I disturbed a single bottle.
What had I done with all this liquor?
Was I... a heavy drinker? A reckless one?
Eventually, I made it to the bedroom — a large bed, a sleek nightstand beside it.
I sat on the edge, letting the quiet press in.
That’s when I noticed it: a sealed envelope sitting on the nightstand.
I picked it up.
The seal was unbroken, and attached to it was a tiny bouquet of delicate, blue flowers.
Forget-me-nots.
Just then, I could’ve sworn I heard her voice — soft, almost like a whisper against my ear.
“Forget me not...
I love them...”
Was that the name of the flower?
Why did I hear it in a girl’s voice?
Why did it make my chest hurt so badly?
I opened the envelope.
There was no letter inside — only more of those small, blue flowers, pressed gently into the paper.
Forget me not.
I didn’t know why it was there, or why it made me feel like I was breaking apart.
How could I remember the name of a flower, but not remember my own life?
The name alone felt heavy.
Forget me not — like someone was begging me to remember them.
But how could I?
I can’t even remember myself.
And trying to remember…
It doesn’t just give me a headache.
It gives me a heartache.
Chapter 1
– Who Am I?
Pain.
The last thing I remember is pain.
A sharp, piercing pain that started in my chest and spread through my entire body.
Then... even that pain was ripped away, and everything faded into darkness.
When I opened my eyes, several people were looking down at me with anxious expressions.
I didn’t know what I was feeling.
By the door, a man in a black suit was speaking heatedly to someone else:
“Kim Namjoon! Do you even realize the damage this will do to the company if he doesn’t wake up? The stock will drop!”
The man standing beside him, Namjoon, responded calmly, doing his best to remain composed.
“I don’t think now is the time to be talking about stocks. We’re all worried about him.”
The man in the suit didn’t seem to care and continued complaining.
Just then, another young man—leaning quietly against the wall—walked over and shoved the suit-wearing man out the door without saying a word, then firmly closed it behind him.
“Enough” he muttered in a low voice.
Suddenly, someone beside me shouted loudly.
“He’s awake!!!”
They all rushed to surround me.
Familiar faces… yet I couldn’t place them. I didn’t even know their names.
“Who are you?” I asked hesitantly after a long pause.
Their joyful expressions immediately shifted to concern.
“You don’t remember us?” the same guy who shouted earlier asked. I slowly shook my head.
“To be honest... I don’t even remember my name” I admitted quietly.
Namjoon, the one from earlier, sat beside me.
“Your name is Jeon Jungkook, he said softly. The others glanced at each other in silence.”
“You’re a singer. We’re your bandmates. I’m Kim Namjoon, the leader. This is Hoseok, he pointed to the guy who had shouted. I nodded.
Then he pointed to the one who had pushed the man out earlier,
“That’s Yoongi. Next to him are Jimin and Taehyung.”
Finally, he gestured to a handsome guy standing quietly in the corner,
“And that’s Seokjin.”
“I see” I said flatly.
But truthfully, I didn’t care. Nothing felt interesting. I couldn’t remember, and worse— I didn’t even want to.
Soon after, a doctor entered the room. He explained something about amnesia.
I nodded as he spoke, barely listening.
Apparently, my memories might return over time. When? No one knew. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe in ten years…
The doctor said I needed rest and asked everyone to leave.
Only Taehyung remained behind.
“I want to talk to him” he said firmly. So firm, in fact, no one dared argue. We sat in silence for what felt like an hour.
Neither of us spoke. Neither of us moved.
Eventually, Taehyung broke the silence.
“Jungkook...”
I looked at him. “Jungkook.” That was me.
But it felt… unfamiliar.
“Do you remember what happened?”
“What do you mean?”
“The accident. Do you remember how it happened?”
I shook my head.
Taehyung sighed, then pulled out a phone from his pocket. He turned it on and showed me the lock screen.
A photo— Me, and a girl.
An ache bloomed in my chest — sharp, deep, unexplained.
My eyes filled with tears. I didn’t know why.
What was happening to me?
“W-who is she...?”
I asked, startled by how shaky my voice was.
“I don’t know” he admitted. I just hid your phone before anyone else could find it.
He handed me the phone.
“Do you know how long you were in a coma?”
“A week, they said.”
“That’s right.” He looked like he wanted to say more but stopped himself.
“Get some rest” He said, then walked out the door.
No one else came in that night, except a nurse.
After a week in a coma, even the idea of sleep made me nauseous. So I just sat there, staring out the window at the city lights.
Later, I picked up my phone again.
The screen was cracked—barely usable.
I wanted to check its contents, but I couldn’t remember the password.
Apparently, I hadn’t set up biometric access either. So I just stared at the lock screen.
I looked happy in that photo—truly happy.
But now, staring at it made my heart ache.
I didn’t understand why.
And it scared me.
I turned the phone off.
Forget me not
Author: #Akari🦋
Genre: Fanfiction.
Heart has mind of its own... Even if our whole existence denies, the heart, the soul holds onto those memories and feelings once burned us alive... It seems like i am destined to burn in this blur of your memories...#Akari🦋
Forget me not
Author: #ivelle🦋
Genre: Fanfiction.
Heart has mind of its own... Even if our whole existence denies, the heart, the soul holds onto those memories and feelings once burned us alive... It seems like i am destined to burn in this blur of your memories...#ivelle🦋
Hammaga Assalamu Alaykumlar~
Hamma tirik, sog' omonmi? Qonday, maktab univer tugayaptimi 🌚
Shu deselar Akari yo'q bo'lib qolgan kunlarida... Bitta fanfic boshlab qo'ygandi :)
Bu safar bu fanfic nafaqat boshlangan balki tugatilgan ham 🥹
Xo'sh, xo'sh, xo'sh... Kimdir o'qishni xohlaydimuuuuuuu? 🥸
Lekin... Lekin bir lekini borda. Inglizcha yozganman boshidan oxirigacha...
#Akari | #fanfic
Repost from N/a
🅰️🅰️🅰️ 🅰️🅰️🅰️🅰️🅰️🅰️
➿➿➿➿➿➿➿➿🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🌟➿➿
🖤by_Soonme🖤
-💋𝙷𝚊𝚢𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚖 𝚋𝚒𝚛 𝚝𝚎𝚔𝚒𝚜 𝚔𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚢𝚘𝚝𝚐𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚗 𝚙𝚊𝚢𝚍𝚘 𝚋𝚘'𝚕𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐
~
-𝙱𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚊 𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚖𝚊𝚢𝚖𝚊𝚗 . 🤍𝚈𝚘𝚕𝚐'𝚘𝚗 𝚍𝚎𝚋 𝚊𝚢𝚝 𝚋𝚞𝚗𝚒 𝚒𝚕𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚘𝚜
~
-𝙱𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚋𝚘'𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚒 𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚖🤩
~
-𝙷𝚊𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚒 𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚋, 𝚢𝚞𝚣𝚒𝚖𝚐𝚊 𝚚𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚚𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐
~🤩
-𝚃𝚞𝚢𝚐'𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚖 𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚝
~🤩
-𝙾𝚢𝚒𝚓𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚒𝚣𝚗𝚒 𝚜𝚘𝚐'𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚖. 🤩𝙾𝚕𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚣𝚐𝚊 𝚋𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚘𝚚𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚗
~
-𝚈𝚘𝚕𝚟𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚒 𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚕𝚊𝚋 𝚔𝚎𝚝𝚖𝚊🤩
➿➿➿➿➿➿
Kanalga kirish
➿➿➿➿➿➿
My love... Don't let us fade away Don't wake my dreams i pray Just keep me lost in you Love... Loneliness drowns me deep My heart is too torn to keep Yet i crave your touch so true.#feel
Ikki sekundga Yena lichka bilan kanalni almashtirib qo'yibdimi deb o'ylabman🕷
#Akari
Mana chala bitgani
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