#5; You tell him he's cool

  

 

 

Nervousness, it turns out; has weight.

 

And mind you, it's quite heavy. If it miraculously falls in your system, it will cause your feet to weigh like a hundred pounds of steel and your hands to be bound down by anchors. Dragging anchored limbs forward, Yoona tries her best to make it to the large, metallic doors that serve as the main entrance for 'exotic'.

 

Around her, women clothed in sheer fabric with lips smeared in bright shades of red glide through the dark alleyways as if it is their second home. Their absolute ease in a process that seems so foreign to her is intimidating. Beside her, a man with a face that's carved with scars stands guarding the door. He gives her a once-over and ignores her just as she ignored him. Her hands latch on to the cold metal knob and she pulls it open, feeling like a three year old in an adult's world.

 

Blends of colorful, soft, and harsh lights flitter around the room. The place is therman and her ears take in the music from unseen sound systems. On the right side of the gigantic room--like a gothic theater-- is a large stage where three or four half- men were dancing. In front of the designed platform, covered tables are aligned and occupied as if it's a catered event.

 

Yoona straightens her back and takes a step inside a different world.

 

"Good evening, madam." She turns and in the dim light, she sees a four dimensional manghwa character towering above her. His voice is low, the kind that demands respect.

 

"Good evening." It sounds much more formal than what she was going for.

 

The man's eyes rake over her body, causing her to be acutely conscious of her attire. In the midst of silks and velvets, her loose tank top and ripped jeans mark her as underdressed. She squirms when he eyes her shaky hands. "I think you might need my help."

 

"I'm looking for someone."

 

"Darling, every lady here is looking for that 'someone'." The moving lights overhead lands on him. She observes his swept-back blonde hair, sharp features, and eyes the color of mud before the lights leaves him. Now, he is just a standing silhoutte in front of her. "But you don't look like you need that kind of service, so I'm going to ask you politely. Why are you here? This isn't a place for little girls."

 

"I'm here for Kim Jongin."

 

Tall dude purses his lips and even in the dark, she could feel his eyes on her face. They stood like that for a few more seconds, his eyes examining her and Yoona staring right back at him with confidence she doesn't quite posess. After about a minute (although she could swear that it felt like an hour), his shoulders finally relax and he tilts his head to the side before walking away. "Follow me."

 

 

♡ ♡ ♡

 

 

"How do I smell?"

 

"Like a French ."

 

"If I was a French , you wouldn't be able to afford me."

 

"Burn."

 

"Shut up, Chanyeol."

 

"Come on, how come that's all you guys say to me?" The twenty-two year old that's at least a head taller than everyone in the cramped room whines and tries to pout. Baekhyun stands on his tiptoes and pats his friend's head. "You tried, Chanyeol."

 

Park Chanyeol is tall, blessed with a nice set of teeth, and has hair that looks like it was stolen from a chihuahua's fur. He's been working here ever since he was nineteen and Chanyeol has this ability to kill, castrate, and bury a nice joke without even meaning to. Baekhyun, who had been working side by side with him for years, finds this endearing.

 

"Guys." Heads turn to the sound of Wu Fan's voice. "Where's Jongin?"

 

"It's just half past nine, Wu Fan. That kid is always late." Yixing--the only person tough enough to talk back to Wu Fan--is the first to answer. Muffled agreement fills the room. "He'll be here in a few minutes, don't worry."

 

"Heard that, miss? Just wait here." Wu Fan calls out from somewhere behind him. They all watched as a woman dressed casually walk up and stands beside Wu Fan. "I'm going to check out on Luhan and Sehun outside. Take care of her until then."

 

Internally, Yoona whimpers; controlling the need to hold on to the blonde-dude's shirt while begging no, please don't leave me alone here. But of course, she doesn't and she witnesses in agony as the blonde dude departs. He's not really her preferred cup of tea but any tea is better than no tea at all. She stands on the edge of the door, shifting her weight from one foot to another and staring at the ground as if it's going to sprout magical beanstalks out at any moment.

 

Yixing looks away. Baekhyun leans closer to Chanyeol. Tao huffs. Chanyeol utters, "You're really pretty."

 

For the first time in years, the three guys are thankful for Chanyeol and his lack of necessary brain cells. Almost simultaneously, they release a long breath and offer the newcomer shy smiles, which she gladly returned. Yoona's fingers clumsily tinker the fringe of her shirt; her stimuli to nervousness. "Thank you."

 

"Why are you looking for Jongin?" Chanyeol stands up and faces the mirror, checking his reflection. He asks this lightly, as if they were friends who haven't seen each other for a long time. Baekhyun lets Chanyeol drill questions to their strange visitor; covering his torso with Chanyeol's discarded shirt. It still has the feint aroma of Chanyeol's favorite cologne (which Baekhyun insists is meant for babies) and he's distracted.

 

"I sort of have something to tell him."

 

"Oh my god! You're pregnant aren't you?! That kid has finally done the deed."

 

"Who's pregnant?" Jongin emerges, catching Chanyeol's semi-accusation. When Jongin's back is turned, his co-workers sometimes talk about his weird ways and how he seems to appear out of thin air. Tao thinks that Jongin was a ninja in his past life. This supports their current theory about their youngest dancer.

 

"Your girlfriend." Chanyeol points at the stick-thin stranger whose wide eyes currently remind him of Kyungsoo's.

 

Jongin stops and stares at Yoona, hearing the girlfriend remark but choosing to ignore it. They're about a meter apart but he feels as if its farther than that. It had been four days (he's keeping count) but he thinks that he nearly didn't recognize her. She looks the same but not really. It's as if she fell asleep and while unconscious, something had taken the pieces that made her, well Yoona, jumbled them and hurriedly put them back on. It's not just the same.

 

"I came to talk to you."

 

 

♡ ♡ ♡

 

 

"I don't have all day. I'm not going to wait forever." Jongin takes a long drag out of his cigarette stick and accidentally-on-purpose blows it in her direction.

 

"Wait, I'm trying to calm down." She ignores the puff of smoke and turns her head from Jongin. He had excused themselves from the room and unmercifully dragged her outside the joint. At present, she's standing beside him as he leans against the stone wall and childishly attacks her with tobacco. Yoona isn't the biggest fan of smoking and it does bother her; but she decides to pretend it doesn't. She won't let Jongin get to her.

 

It isn't worth it. It isn't worth it. Just apologize and it'll be all over. You won't have to see him again. She bites the inside of her cheek slightly and starts, "Look, I came here to apologize for what I said about the stripping thing and the whole hot water incident. It was my fault and it was rather childish of me. I was just pissed but really, you're not that bad. You're sort of cool, actually."

 

"Do you have a phone right now?" Jongin slurs and breathes out another cloud of smoke in her face. Her eyebrows shots upward; forming mini umbrellas above those doe-like eyes.

 

"Yes, why?"

 

"Can you repeat what you said about me being nice and cool? I want to set that as my ringtone." His tone is serious but a small smile betrays him. "But thanks, anyway."

 

"So," Yoona looks down at the gravel and kicks it marginally with the heel of her sneakers. "I guess we're cool then?"

 

"Yeah, we're cool." Jongin smiles, eyes creasing at the sides and tongue slightly sticking out in a playful way.

 

She momentarily stops and hits her left ankle with her right foot to make sure that she didn't just imagine that. The noise from the joint are dulled by the thick walls to the point where she can barely hear them. The spot is in the outskirts of the city and only a few cars zooms past them. Jongin is no longer that cocky guy she initially disliked. Tonight, he can actually be someone she might have a hearty talk with over a cup of coffee. Minus the cigar, of course.

 

"I'm moving out." She declares on a whim. She can't point out why but as soon as the words leave , she can't find a way to stop them. Words that she was hesitant to tell her best friend now flowed freely in front of this bronze-skinned guy who looks like sin and sometimes talks like Satan's spawn. "I want to start anew. I mean, I realized that maybe I've been wasting all these time indoors and that there's more to life than just watching re-runs and taking care of Toblerone. He's my hamster, by the way. But I decided to let him go, too. After all, when you start over, you don't bring tiny momentums of the past, right? And I'm sorry if I'm ranting, it's just that it's you, you know? After you asked me about being passionate about things, I thought it over. Maybe I've been living my life wrongly."

 

"There's not a  'wrong way' to live." Jongin waves his hand in front of him; as if warding off an imaginary being. "You're boring, that's right. You're not that interesting, correct. Man, you even name rodents after chocolates. The point is, your life might be nothing dynamic but there's nothing wrong with that. As long as your happy, it's all okay. But if you want to change because you're not satisfied, go for it."

 

"Thank you, grandpa." She smiles at him in a way that makes Jongin want to kiss her. And you know, he's not one to listen to his conscience so that's what he does. Jongin drops the cigarette stick between his fingers down to the ground, takes a step forward, lifts his right hand to cover the back of her neck and leans down to grace her lips with his(eyes closed, of course).

 

It doesn't feel right. Instead of the soft flesh he expected, his lips encounter a cold surface and when he opens his eyes; he sees that a small box is separating his face from Yoona's. Jongin eyes Wu Fan who is smirking beside them with a box in hand.

 

"Miss, try this." Wu Fan demands.

 

And when Jongin registers what the box was, he raises his fist and lands a punch against We Fan's oh-so-precious cheeks because god freaking dammit; no one interrupts Jongin--just as as he's about to kiss someone--with a box of pregnancy-test kit.

 

♠ ♠ ♠

 

I was terribly pissed today so I tried to calm myself down by writing and this is what happens when I write mad. It's wacky and I somehow hope that my jokes made you laugh /facepalms/. I'm going to switch updates since /if  you noticed/ i dont listen to myself and end up writing whatever I feel like. Anyway, I'll make a character map or something & I hope you enjoyed reading this!! (; comments, subs, votes are very much appreciated & silent readers kill me okay ;P love you (;

 

/yes i can finally eat that piece of chicken as a self-reward (;/