Mr. Perfect and Me
Description
Despite what she thinks, Taeyeon's got it all.
She has a beautiful best friend who she's hopelessly in love with.
And now, she's got Mr. Perfect.
Who the hell is Mr. Perfect?
“Hello,” Tia said, “you’re not getting the
point here. That,” she said, pointing to Kris, “is Mr.
Perfect.”
Foreword
Things weren’t supposed to turn out this way.
First, my mother had decided that it was a good idea to overdose on some pills
which, thankfully, turned out to be only a batch of panadol. Nevertheless, after
freaking out for a good hour after I had gotten her into the emergency room, I
myself had passed out and had to be sent to rest in my own hospital bed.
While I had been screaming my head off, trying to call the paramedics (who
didn’t understand the address I was blubbering out to them) Euni, my twin
sister, had been out kissing her boyfriend. Euni is my identical twin. But
somehow, she’s always been popular and prettier than I’ve ever been. It’s a
mystery, I tell you.
All in all, it was simply natural of me to flash my twin
sister an evil look as she
entered the hospital door,
holding a bouquet of flowers. They were lilies, and
she knew I hated lilies.
That was how we got into a fight, with her
pouncing on my already sore
muscles, and any passer-by
could see that it was definitely unfair. A hundred
percent
to her advantage, if you ask me. Just because I
was in a bed with a
couple of bandages wrapped around my
head, she had no right authority over
me.
“You’re a selfish little brat,” I said.
“You’re ugly,” Euni spat back.
“We’re identical twins!”
“Yeah, whatever,” she said, throwing the lilies on the ground.
“Hey…you killed my flowers!”
“You don’t even like flowers, Taeyeon. And you know what? I came in here to
really apologize, but you’re just being a little brat. So forget it.” And then she
was gone. She did not, however, forget to slam the
door shut on her way out.
I was left, utterly speechless, confused, and
abused, with a bunch of dead lillies
scattered on
my lap. And to make things worse, it occurred to me that
our
family would have to pay for the hospital fee, which
wasn’t a very pleasant idea
because the only person who
had a job was me.
To add on to it, Euni was pissed, and my mom
was out somewhere wandering in
the hallways, looking for
another batch of panadol to screw with.
These facts were all seeping into my head when, at
the most inconsiderable
timing there could ever be, the
door to the ward opened and someone stepped
in.
To be more precise, it was a rather tall someone.
All right—to be even more precise, the someone
happened to be a bit attractive.
He was, downright, the most gorgeous guy I had
ever seen on the face of Earth
itself.
Which reminded me, by the way, of the fact that my head was enclosed in a
massive piece of band aid and that I
was probably a mess at the moment,
considering the fact
that I had not changed for a while.
I ducked under my covers.
Gorgeous guy, however, seemed to get none of this
and came forward to have a
closer look (the blankets were
really thin, so I could kind of see the outline of
everything). “What the —“
And even though he’d said the f word, I couldn’t
help but notice that he looked
absolutely adorable when he
said it.
He was standing about three feet away from me when
he noticed that there was
a lump under the blanket,
probably guessing at the same time that the lump
was
indeed a human body. “Who are you?”
It wasn’t like he was going to know me even if I
told him my name, so I said,
“Taeyeon.”
“Oh.” It was more of a reaction rather than a
response. “You didn’t happen to
see a fat guy strolling
around here, did you?”
“Nope, don’t think so.”
A pause. “Alright, then, I’ll see you.”
He was just about to leave, and as I saw his
outline moving out towards the
door, I began to notice a
couple of things. Number one; of course, he was hot
and it
would be a complete fool of me to let him go like that.
Number two; I
should ask him for his number or, at least,
his name. Number three (and the
most important one, perhaps) he was holding a gun. No kidding. Even
through
the blankets, I could see that the black object sticking behind his back (it wasn’t
well hidden, of course,
since I could spot it). I thought I was crazy at first, but
on a second look it had to be a gun. Either he was a patient who had just
escaped from the mental ward, and the gun in his hand (hopefully) was an
extremely realistic bb-gun…or he was a murderer.
Before I even had time to consider which one of the two options was more
likely, my hands lunged for the guy’s shoulders
and, screaming, I pulled him
down with me.
Comments