14
    The second we were released from practice, I dashed to the locker rooms and took the quickest shower of my life. I patted my body dry with a towel and threw some clothes on, then ran towards my car, not even bothering to say goodbye to the girls. I put my keys into the ignition and began driving towards Namjoon’s house. I pulled up in front. It was an older, single-story home that had seen some wear and tear, but they kept it looking cozy. I had never been inside before, or even met his mom and sister. Every time I came here it was because Namjoon had to pick something up, and I would always wait in the car. I held my breath as I approached the front door, knocking three times. After a few seconds, I heard the door unlock. It opened and a woman, I’m assuming Namjoon’s mother, stood there. She was a very beautiful woman, but she looked like she had a hard life. Her cheek was bruised, and I could see several scars on her neck and shoulders.

    “Hi, Mrs. Kim. I’m Sooji. I’m sorry for being rude, but I really need to talk to Namjoon, it’s important.” I quickly said.

    “Oh don’t worry, you aren’t being rude. Come on in. Namjoon, you have a guest!” Mrs. Kim called. She was very nice, but I could tell she was nervous by the way her eyes shifted around and the way she spoke. All those years of spousal abuse probably caused this. Namjoon appeared around a corner and looked surprised to see me here.

    “Oh, hey, Sooji. This way.” Namjoon said, waving me over. We walked past the living room, where I saw his adorable little sister playing, and down the hallway. Namjoon stopped in front of a door and opened it, allowing me to enter. We were in his bedroom, and he had quite the setup. There was a desk up against one wall that had two laptops, a keyboard, a soundboard, a microphone, and many other pieces of technology that I was unfamiliar with. Around the room there were several posters of rappers whose names I had never heard. I knew that this was the place where Namjoon could be himself and create his masterpieces. Although I was perfectly fine with admiring everything in the room, including Namjoon himself, there were more important matters. “So what brought you here?” Namjoon finally asked, sitting down on his bed.

    “There’s something that we have to deal with.” I said in a hushed tone. I feared that Namjoon’s mother or sister would hear the conve