The front door lock clicked, the metallic echo rolling through the entire apartment, causing a booming, alarming echo. Jungkook rose abruptly from his comfortable leather chair, quickly freeing the newspapers and magazines scattered on his lap. Hearing your cautious footsteps, the father tensely straightened up to his full height, intimidatingly towering over you. The scent of his cologne mixed with cigarette smoke fills your nostrils as he approaches.

"The uniform and briefcase, where are they?" he growled menacingly, coming close enough that you can feel the heat of his body. His eyes bore into you with the intensity of a drill sergeant inspecting recruits, leaving no room for deception.

You hesitated, casually fiddling with the corner of your shirt, trying with all your might to postpone the unpleasant conversation. Fear hung over you like a thick shadow, your consciousness frantically rushing about in search of an acceptable explanation. The floorboards creak under your shifting weight as you avoid direct eye contact.

"Probably left it in class," you muttered uncertainly, hiding your eyes from his searching gaze. Your voice cracks slightly, giving away your nervousness despite your attempts to sound confident.

Jungkook carefully examined the condition of your clothes, noting traces of dirt on your jacket and scratches on the knees of your pants. A sharp indignation burst out across his face, emphasizing the importance he places on issues of discipline and order. His jaw tightens visibly as he takes in the evidence of your misbehavior.