Chapter Text
<Topless walking on the front-line with no ammo
I know I might get shot but I still go, though
Go hard, go hard, go hard in beast mode
All I wish is the clock be ticking in slow-mo
In a room with no exit
Not expecting things to be like this
Time keeps passing by
I'm just gonna slowly close my eyes
Can't breathe for now, I might die
Just hoping you'll be mine
Come back to my life>
Jackson sighs to himself as he stares down at the page he just filled with words… The lyrics he writes for nobody in particular have been getting more and more depressing lately.
He supposes this is just part of his grieving process, whatever the fuck that means. The pack bond specialist he has been seeing to help him through the process of breaking away from his pack always goes on about it, anyway.
Personally, he thinks it’s all bullshit, just an expensive way to get told he is lonely and needs time to heal. Duh, clearly.
He closes the notebook and sets it beside him on the bare mattress, then looks around the large bedroom with disinterest. The architecture is beautiful, high arched windows filtering light from the mid-morning summer sun into the room… but the beauty is marred by his own belongings.
Boxes surround him in varying states of being unpacked. Mostly just the ones with clothes and the basics he needs to go through his daily life are sitting open. Takeout boxes are stacked on the nightstand, and a small pile of clothes in unclear conditions of cleanliness is pooling in the middle of the floor.
He leans his head back against the wall behind him and closes his eyes, rubbing at them with the palms of his hands. He really needs to get his shit together today. He’s been here almost a week and still hasn’t unpacked ninety-nine percent of his stuff… he’s just been existing on this bare mattress on the floor and eating takeout like, well, a depressed and lonely shell of a man. Imagine that.
He had decided to leave his pack behind mutually with the others, it just made the most sense. It was a hard separation, but overall it was the best decision for them. If only they hadn’t chosen to become a pack before any of them had presented, it wouldn’t be so painful for them all, and especially Jackson, now.
Their scents just didn’t work together. Jackson’s sugared lemon scent soured the overall clean and fresh vibe they had going on without him, and once Yugyeom had presented late as an omega with a particularly sensitive nose, Jackson just couldn’t let the rest of them suffer for his presence anymore. They already had two other betas in Mark and Jinyoung with far less offensive scents.
It had taken almost 2 years, but as soon as his pack bond was completely severed, he had high-tailed it out of there and moved into his family pack’s summer home to wallow. And wallow he did. For almost a week straight. Just existing in the feeling of being truly alone.
Ugh, disgusting… enough is enough. He can’t keep going like this. Jackson resolves himself to fix this shit. Today.
He stands up and hops off the mattress onto the floor, proceeding to dig all of his clothes out of one of the boxes so he can fill it with the empty takeout containers.
Once that’s done, he sorts through the clothes on the floor via sniff-test (much to the dismay of his unsuspecting nose), and puts away the clean ones in the dresser inside the walk-in closet.
He digs around until he finds his laundry basket and fills it up, then wanders into the hall to find the box labeled “towels” so he can take a shower for the first time since he got here. Wait, really? Gross.
The shower feels amazing, the onslaught of graciously hot water beats into his back as he scrubs away days of grime from his skin. He emerges as a new man. At least, that’s what he tells himself as he looks in the mirror to fix his hair after toweling it dry.
He pads his way back to the walk-in closet and picks out something simple that still makes him look good. A loose white t-shirt, tight black jeans, black Fendi sneakers, and simple silver jewelry to complete the look.
He heads downstairs towards the kitchen, but when he touches the banister at the top of the stairwell his hand comes away dirty. He notices now that everything in this place is covered in a layer of dust… he really should take care of that.
He walks to the kitchen and opens the fridge to find it totally empty, save for the few condiments he brought with him from his old place. Well, crap. He definitely has to go into town for supplies.
Jackson shakes out the black denim jacket he left laying on the stairs when he arrived and pulls it on, checking the pockets for his keys. Once he finds them he runs upstairs to snag his phone off the charger. Nobody cares enough to call him while he is on his broken heart vacation, but just in case the exes need him for something.
Then he bounds down the stairs and out the front door. He’s at least a little excited to take his Harley out for a ride. It’s been a while since he felt the exhilaration of a road passing under him as he flies down it.